#oz and other countries

[nevis-the-skeleton]

Awesome :D and so useful ^^ !

Maps of Oz.

[hyperfixation-station-2442]

Random headcannon:

Alright so- the books state that tinman (Nick Chopper) lost his arm, then leg, then was split in 2 right?

And each time he lost a limb he got a tin prosthetic. Up untill he had to be remade of tin entirely anyways.

So-

Amputation is a thing that happens in oz,

I belive that the only reson his prosthetic limbs were made if tin was due to resources & he was probably afraid he'd accidentally chop his arm & leg again if they were wood.

And-

Once he became emperor of the winkies- if any of them needed prosthetics, they'd get them made in tin in honor of him.

[orchestrahearts]

modern headcanon

our app tiktok in oz modern verses is still just called tiktok. the tiktok company was founded by mechanical man (and l. frank baum character) tik-tok, who designs and manufactures many of the pieces of technology used by the average ozian every day. the wizard is an inventor and ceo of a rival company, the oz corporation or oz corp, and has attempted to get tiktok products banned, claiming he doesn’t trust the mechanical men not to be spying on the citizens of oz. thus far tik-tok has managed to fight off these bans but it is a regular point of tension in ozian technology spaces of who prefers tiktok products and who prefers oz corp.

tiktok products are innovative and unique and steampunk in aesthetic and oz corp products are streamlined and modern in design.

[aria0fgold]

MHYK ANIME NEW PV!!! NEW PV!!! MMHYK ANIME NEW PV!!! FOR CENTRAL COUNTRY!!! CAIN!!! CAIIIINNNNN!!!!!

[constantvariations]

It's kinda funny to me that so many people are up in arms about Neo's actions in C8 when it's easy for me to dismiss simply because that ain't Neo, yknow?

Like, Neo has never pussyfoot around murder. If she wants you dead, you gonna get dead. From Neo about to stab Yang while the latter is unconscious to Neo and Ruby falling through the void while Neo uses the visuals of Ruby's loved ones to try and weaken her enough for Neo to strangle her to death, Neo has always been fairly direct in her methods

So, it's difficult to reconcile that version of Neo with the one who would passively let her target take themselves out

Not to mention the semblance shift. Neo's semblance, Overactive Imagination, is illusions manifested via semblance glass. They shatter upon contact. Because they're illusions

That's the biggest deal breaker for me. Crwby changed her semblance so much she might as well be a whole ass other person. Fuck, it could've been an Afteran. It's not like Neo was needed here, especially with how easily she was discarded

Instead of illusions, Neo's new abilities seem to be... animorphing people/creatures she may or may not have met via semblance clones and allowing them sentience

Mcfucking what???

The point of illusions is they're not physical. It's not an actual transformation, but rather the aesthetic of one. This could have worked if they kept the semblance evolution to multiple illusions at once OR allowing physical transformation, either of which would have been super cool to see, but they pushed too far. There's too many upgrades that deviate so much from the original ability that it's a whole ass new power

So, immediately on her introduction, the og Jabber is killed(?) and in its place is... multiple Neo-Jabbers. Who can eat other creatures alive. And apparently desire to do so

McFUCJING WHAT

This implies that all her semblance clones of others have their own sentience. Which would never make sense when she never interacted with anyone in that torture scene besides Roman. Seriously why the fuck is Lionheart here? Give us nothing, king

Now, given that we are shown the stream of souls, what could have happened is the illusions were possessed by folks who needed to get a last word in, but that's not. what. happened.

Instead, we have the writers disregarding a character's inability to speak so they can brutalize a teenager in the stupidest way possible, and throwing away all logic of a fairly easy to understand power because it suits their plot needs

Riveting

[toestalucia]

there is no way theyre asking me to play each m2 raid 100 times

[supercap2319]

So I just saw wicked and I desperately need something with Fiyero having his sights set not on Glinda but Glinda’s brother y/n

Y/N Upland always knew that he was different. From a young age, he realized that he didn't fit in with the rest of his family, and not just because he was attracted more to boys than girls. When he was born, Y/N was given the rare gift of ice and snow, bringing great promise to the Upland name.

His mother and father tried to turn his talent into something that would make Y/N think he was better than the rest of the people of Oz, but Y/N didn't want that. He just wanted to be normal. That's why he made himself scarce as much as possible. He dressed in normal clothing and he preferred to be alone, instead of playing with other children his age. Then came Galinda, the pride and joy of the Uplands. Galinda was beautiful and had a certain way of getting whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. The biggest difference between Y/N and his sister… he chose books. She chose looks, and it was certainly working out better for Galinda than Y/N.

She was beloved by all in Gillikin Country. The one everyone thought would succeed, whereas Y/N, would be the first ever person to disgrace his family as the ‘Upland Freak of Nature.’ And maybe they were right. To an extent. The cost of powers always came with a price, and even though Y/N was powerful, he was very bad at controlling them. It was one of the main—if not the most important -- reason to attend Shiz University to gain a better understanding of his powers, and how to properly control them. Unsurprisingly, Galinda was also majoring in sorcery.

That's how he and Galinda arrived on a pink boat to Shiz University, Galinda practically bouncing with excitement. Her pink outfit was pressed and crisp as her nails. “Oh, Y/N! I simply can't wait to attend Madame Morrible's sorcery seminar. I just know I'm going to ace it.” She flashed pretty white teeth that hurt Y/N’s eyes. He pulled his sparkly blue cape over his shoulders. “I'm sure you will, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to help me with this.” He made a small snowflake dance on the palm of his hand before closing it.

“Of course, brosicle.” Galinda laughed.

Once they were close enough to the school, Galinda stood on the back of the boat and sat down on her luggage, looking like a queen on her throne. A few students in blue and brown uniforms waved to them as Galinda waved back. Y/N looked down at the water until they were docked. Stepping off the boat, Galinda and her ten thousand pieces of luggage were greeted by their mother and father at the docks.

“Oh, we're so proud of you!” Their father said, as he and their mother gave Galinda kisses. “Thank you. I love you. Just remember, it's not goodbye. It's farewell.” Galinda told them.

“We love you.” Their mother said, finally taking notice of Y/N. “Oh, and you too, sweetie. You'll be good. Probably not as good as your sister, but good enough.” She said.

“Wow. Thank you, mother. Your words of reassurance melt my heart.” Y/N said, tone sarcastic.

Arduenna Upland looks at his son. “You make sure to look after Galinda, Y/N. See to it that she's comfortable, and well taken care of.”

“Of course, father. I wouldn't dream of disappointing you and mother again for the what? Sixtieth time?” He said.

“Just don't do anything to make trouble.” Arudeena said. He looks at Galinda and smiles with happiness and pride. “Have all your kisses? And you will write?”

“Yes. I love you. Sad time. Miss you already.” Galinda said.

“Popsicle board the boat.” Y/N said.

“They are going to miss me so much.”

“Us.”

“Right. That's what I said. Us.” Galinda said.

…

“Attention, students! It is my honor to announce that Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country will be filling out our student body. Having transferred from the Royal Winkie Academy. Please help him feel welcome. Without making direct eye contact.”

That's how Y/N and all of the student body at Shiz found themselves in the courtyard by the fountain, waiting for some spoiled Prince from Winkie country. Y/N to suppress the urge to roll his eyes as the Prince rode in on a horse. A blue horse. How original. Lines of male and female suitors were watching as the Fiyero walked passed, his black boots echoing against the ground. Some winked at him, while others twirled their hair in hopes of catching the Prince’s attention. He seemed unbothered.

Fiyero had light brown hair with blonde streaks on it. He wore a tailored navy blue suit with golden trimmings. He headed towards the bulletin board and asked a gawking male student to move as a faculty member checked out his ass. Y/N rolled his eyes from his position across from where Fiyero was. He has been studying with Madame Morrible and another student named Elphaba. He was currently reading a book about the history of ice magic in Oz as he watched Galinda swipe a book from a nearby student, and tried to pretend to be uninterested.

“Are you looking for something?” Galinda asked. She flips her blonde hair dramatically. “Or…someone?”

“No, I was…” Fiyero starts, but stops when his eyes look past Galinda and looked at Y/N.

Y/N frowns. Why was Prince McDimples looking at him like that?

“Sorry…what was I doing?” Fiyero asked.

“How would I know?” Galinda shrugged.

“Maybe it was that young man over there.” Fiyero smiles in Y/N’s direction. Galinda follows his gaze and frowns. “That's Y/N. My brother.”

“Brother you say? Well, I fancy I should meet him as well, don't you agree?”

“I guess.” Galinda pouted as Fiyero had eyes for Y/N, but her.

[kirbism]

14oz. Sweetened condensed milk comes in 14oz cans. I'm american I swear

like clearly for The Home Cook it's almost always going to be much easier to write recipes around ingredients that are sold in hard, unchanging amounts (like 16oz cans of, i don't know, sweetened condensed milk or something) and adjust the other ingredients that might be more easily distributed among multiple recipes (like sugar) but why do we have to bring brands into it

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Ode to the Oilbird

The oilbird (Steatornis caripensis), also known as the guácharo, is a species of bird found throughout northeast South America, from Guyana to Bolivia. They are found primarily in montane and semi-montane habitats, which contain both caves and fruiting trees for them to roost in and feed on. The oilbird is named for its young, which are quite fat and traditionally collected by indigenous people for cooking.

The oilbird is quite bat-like in its behaviour. During the day, they roost in nests constructed of faecal matter and regurgitated seeds along the walls of deep caves. At night they emerge to feed on fruits, primarily avocados, laurels, and palms. Like bats, they use echolocation, emitting a series of high-pitched screeches as well as a highly developed sense of smell to find food. However, these calls are below 20 hertz, and therefore audible to humans Because of their nocturnal activity, their primary predators are owls. Snakes are also known to predate upon eggs and hatchlings.

S. caripensis is a monogamous species. Between April and May, males and females seek each other out by circling each other during flight and emitting a series of mating calls. Afterwards, the pair spends most of its time together constructing a nest and foraging. Females lay 2-4 eggs, which both parents spend 30 to 35 days incubating. Afterwards, the hatchlings are intensively taken care of for up to 125 days, at which point they fledge and leave the nest.

Oilbirds are fairly large, with a body length of 40–49 cm (16–19 in), and weighing 350–475 g (12.3–16.8 oz), with a wing span of aboutn95 cm (37 in). They have rich brown plumage, speckled with white, and a flat head with a hooked beak. Compared to other birds, the feet and eyes are fairly small, but the pupils are relatively large to allow for greater night vision.

Conservation status: The IUCN has classified the oilbird as Least Concern. Guácharo Cave, which is home to at least 15,000 birds, is protected by the Venezuelan government, and the several more caves are protected in other countries' national parks.

Want to request some art or uncharismatic facts? Just send me proof of donation to any of the fundraisers on this list, or a Palestinian organization of your choice! Proof does not have to include any personal info– only the date, the amount, and the recipient.

Photos

Greg Homel

Will Sweet

Roger Alham

[justbelievinginmagic]

BEWITCHED - part 1: we're not in munchkinland anymore.

pairing(s): witch!seonghwa x witch!reader ft. honjoong & san. mini-series summary: all your life you've had this spark - a touch of magic to your heart. as a munchkinlander, it was both a blessing and a curse. after all, two horrible witches had ruled over the land - all your life you had been asked: would you be a good witch or a bad witch? you wanted to be a good witch. and, finally, you would be! the day arrived; you were going to shiz university, the most-esteemed magical college in oz! you were prepared to work hard and make your dreams come true. but when you stumble upon cold bullies and an even colder sorcerer-in-training named park seonghwa who seemed to captivate you at every turn, will you be able to achieve your magical goals or will you fall under his spell? warnings/tags: inspired by the musical and movie adaptation of wicked, magical college AU, wizard of oz AU, set at shiz university, fem!reader, 3rd person POV, use of YN, set after a divergent-wicked timeline (where the wizard or a wizard still rules), magic, angst, some bullying, oz references and lore, use of ozian vernacular, nervousness, second-hand embarrassment, mentions of panties/corset, name calling. let me know if there are more tags needed. word count: ~4.5k

It had been known throughout Oz, for as long as the Time Dragon Clock tick-tocked, that the only place to become a grand sorcerer was Shiz University. Established, expensive, and exclusivatory, the university was known throughout the land as the cradle to success. Anyone who wanted to be anything went there – or to the Wizard to have their heart’s desire granted. But, of course, a meeting with the Wizard was rare. So, the only other option to success was hard work. Work hard to one day get to Shiz University.

Staring up at the ancient buildings of Shiz, YN couldn’t help but feel a rush of exhilaration. She had made it. Spiraling towers, open-air patios, water canals weaving in and out of the architecture, she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t in Munchkinland anymore.

A shoulder bumped into her, making her huff and stumble over the aged tiles. She righted herself with a small huff, a familiar zing in her chest making her pause and take a deep breath. That was the last thing she needed to happen. The bustling crowds of students surrounded her like a sea. Some in the perfectly-pressed navy-blue jackets and horizontal-striped uniform dresses of Shiz with the silver-stitched emblem proud across their chest. Others were like her, dressed in their best-to-impress as they entered the grand corridors of Shiz as a new student. It reminded her of stories of masquerades in grand ballrooms – their outfits were all so different and extravagant. Pinks of the lightest shades, deep-rubied vermillion, bright yellows, all in the strangest textures and designs. Far different from her own dress fabric but never the less fantasticamagical!

YN felt out of place like a lost air balloon amongst the clouds. Clinging to her luggage case, she took a tentative step away from the open-air waterfront. As she moved ever forward into the college, she realized just how different everything was here. The air was cool and humid; the sound of sea-salt water trickling between the canal-filled paths babbled; there was the smell of fresh-Ozma petals blooming on the large leaf-pads floating across the shimmering water. It was really nothing like Munchkinland, and its sprawling country-sides. There was no smell of Ozwheat-ground bread, of fresh upturned soil, fragrant tulips in every shade of the rainbow, or the towering blossom stalks of sweet-flowers.

It was strange.

Swallowing, she hugged her brown suitcase closer and continued to walk further into Shiz. The honey-soft yellow of the buildings was complimented by a once-royal, now-pastel blue in the awnings and in delicate hand-painted décor across the buildings. Sunshine flickered past the shingled rooftops to cast the center of Shiz in a golden glow. It was beautiful. A different beautiful than what she was used to, but an optimistic jingle in her heart said she could like it here.

Another person pushed past her purposely, and this time it sent her tumbling to the ground. A laughter grumbled from the crowd, surprised but cruel. A mean-looking girl with a pointy nose laughed as she crowed out, “Watch where you are going, little farm girl!”

“She’s used to being that low to the ground I bet,” another encouraged with a sneer.

YN’s face crumbled at the words. Eyes burning before her face flushed. All her things toppled across the bustling court-yard – her books scattered, her dresses tumbled, her keepsakes rolled. Her suitcase had broken open. The clasp was worn and old compared to the new fancy luggage the rich (but mostly their entourage) toted along, but she didn’t think it was that old.

Embarrassment burned more fervently than that spark in her chest. Her focus to split between the pain of in her knees, the hurt from their words, and the panic of needing to grab her things now.

YN didn’t understand their uttertodious rudeness. She wasn’t the first nor the last to attend Shiz as a Munchkinlander. She hadn’t expected the dirty looks, the cruel laughs, the cold whispers, the foul name-calling. How did they even know she was of Munchkinland? She wasn’t of Munckinland holy blood. She was no Eminent, nor of the upper-class. She was just… YN. Was that so offending? Was it her dress? Was that what they were whispering about behind their hands and falling into giggles? Was it hideoteous compared to the swankified fabrics of the upper-class? She didn’t think so. She had put on her prettiest – a dirndl-esque dress of a deep sapphire. Hand-embroidered vibrant poppies, delicate milk-flowers, and candy-chrysanthemums decorated the hem and décolletage. Fresh flowers decorated her pig-tailed hair; some had begun to wilt in the change of temperature, but they still were prettied pastel yellows, blues, and pinks.  Some of those petals now rested on the ground from her fall, crumpled.

She felt the burn flare like embers fanned by a wind. Her book pages rattled in a nonexistent wind unnoticed by the snickering students. Behind her, a man’s voice cleared itself, baritone and rumbly.

“Are you alright?” He asked beside her.

Oh, his voice so melodic it reminded her of the Lullaby League singers that would pass through Munchkinland during the holidays. It reminded her of honey being poured over fresh-bread, of warm summer nights in the fields, of a bed waiting for her to curl up in.  

Looking up at him, her breath was stolen. YN swore for a moment she saw a star, a wizard, a sorcerer, an otherworldly being. There, haloed in the light of the afternoon sun, was a man with hair as light as milk-flowers and a nose carved by an artist. His shapely lips pursed in a thoughtful yet neutral pout; his eyes were a dark shade of fresh-soil. And somehow, they twinkled with stars.

Or maybe her eyes were filled with hearts. She blinked. YN had never seen someone so beautiful. The burning spark in her chest faded with awe.

His hand outstretched to her after a moment.

“Are you okay?” he repeated, bleached brow raising faintly.

There was another blink of her pretty eyes before she was shaken from her stupor.

“Oh, yes, yes,” she insisted as she took his hand.

With ease, she was tugged to her feet. “Thank you,” she whispered, pink cheeked.

The figure was tall especially so with his heeled boots. His presence was one she imagined only the Wizard to embody. Peace, stoniness, wisdom. He struck her with wonder. His gaze flickered from her, a faint ghost of a smile on his lips disappearing at the sight of her dresses tumbling away, her books’ pages fluttering in the wind, and, mortifyingly, her panties tumbling from her luggage.

“Um,” he cleared his throat, chin nodding in their direction.

Red cheeked and mortified, she went to grab the frilly underthings before sliding to her knees once more to catch all of her belongings from blowing away. Laughter rang out as students rushed around her things. Someone stepped on her leatherbound book of the History of Shiz.

Her savior, her star, hadn’t bent at the knee to help. He simply watched on, glancing at the student who was cackling at the Munchkinlander’s humiliation.

“Seonghwa!” A cry from the side caught her attention as a red-haired man, shorter than the white-haired star that had helped her, rushed forward. His arm slung over the taller’s shoulders - despite their size differences. Seonghwa bent at the knee for him, letting the red-head adjust him ‘til he was comfortable half leaning on his counterpart.

“Your Highness,” Seonghwa replied.

Highness! Her face only seemed to grow hotter and hotter. She knew Shiz had the rich and royal but she didn’t expect to a royal highness to be watching her gather her intimates and shove them into her luggage today. If her face could burn any hotter, she’d be a furnace.

“Here.” A stray hand held out a blue nightgown her way, and she grabbed it with only the quickest glance.

Sweet Oz, was this entire school flooded with beauty? A strong-shouldered man in decorated regalia was kneeling down to offer more of her items her way. He had collected a handful in his arms - a book, another nightgown, her corset! Grabbing it quick, she thanked him under her breath as she pushed everything into her bag messily.

“Making the ladies swoon and lose their panties already?” the red-haired man teased.

The burn in her chest returned almost as if it could incinerate her away ‘til she was nothing but dust. She wished she could disappear. She didn’t even notice her fingertips fading away, disappearing as she accepted another book from the handsome knight. They sparkled a ghastly transparent shape, almost like she was part ghost. San’s eyes lingered on her hands for a moment, eyes widening. She didn’t even notice that as she shoved a balled-up sweater into the bag.

“She stumbled and fell on her own,” Seonghwa commented. His tone felt cooler than before, almost defensive.

“I was tripped,” she muttered under her breath as she placed the last of her things in her bag.

With the last thing safely tucked away and her bag firmly shut, the broad-shouldered man gave her a soft smile, charmingly so, before he rose and returned to the Star named Seonghwa and his Highness.

“No harm in swooning anyone; stop acting like it’s some scandalacious thing,” the red-head chuckled as he peered down at the Munchkinland woman. His hand rose to tilt his rose-tinted glasses down the fine bridge of his nose.

He winked at her, and her face nearly matched his crimson locks.

“We aren’t here to swoon, Prince Hongjoong. We are here to—”

“Study, yeah, yeah. You okay, miss?” This Prince Hongjoong’s smile, or well, smirk was deadly. Playful, seductive, charming, all wrapped up in one.

“She’s from Munchkinland; I’m sure she’s familiar with being in the dirt,” someone said from the crowd.

Snorts and giggles erupted around. It made her ears burn as she finally stood back on her own two feet, with no help from the strange trio in front of her. The only reassurance was that they didn’t laugh, well, much. Hongjoong giggled out a high-pitched thing as San whispered in his ear. It didn’t feel cruel, more jovial, but still her ego was bruised.

They were laughing at her.

“I’m fine,” she said firmly, trying to cling to her words’ truth as tightly as she clung to her luggage.

Water-chimes rang out; hummingbirds playing them to the tune of the Shiz University alma mater. Everyone’s heads turned; some exclamations of excitement rang out.

“Orientation time,” she heard a girl from behind her say. “We have to get a good seat, c’mon.” A trio of girls pushed past and soon everyone was heading in the direction of the quad.

Orientation… so that’s what those bells were all about. It felt so utterly strange to not know. Everything was so different here, no bell towers here. Everyone seemed to know what things were – even something as simple as orientation’s starting call. But with that, her disturberanceand bullies left in a herd of Ozians scrambling to the main courtyard of Shiz.

She sighed out watching their attentions shift. Like she was nothing but an ant. Momentary entertainment before they casted her aside. She didn’t know it was going to be like this when she left home. Humiliating. Teasing. They weren’t children – why did they act so childish?

After working hard in her classes, after studying day-in-day-out, after facing endless scribing of papers, and even after facing nay-sayers who would taunt her with the words, “are you a good witch or a bad witch?,” she made it here. And she wasn’t going to let some rich-snobs make her feel lesser. So, what she didn’t have money or status? So what she came from Munchkinland? She was going to make it for herself – live an Ozian dream.

Munchkins were simple-folk – small-minded some would say, but not her. No, she believed they were clever. Innovative. They were responsible for feeding Oz; they were the Ozwheat Bread Basket of the lands; their rainbow-tulips techni-colored Oz! That had to stand for something. She was something.

She deserved to be here. She made it. She did it. She was equal.

The burning flame in her chest eased as she reminded herself this, sighing out as color flooded back to her fingertips.

Following after the crowd, she noticed that the trio stayed near her. Hongjoong’s stance was lazy, half leaning on Seonghwa who stood tall as ever, towering over both him and the strong-shouldered man who had helped her.

None were in the standard uniform – did that mean they were freshman like her? The Prince’s attire wasn’t exactly sloppy but mismatched. Dark velveteen pants hugged his legs tight. Laced up black boots with far too many laces climbed up his calves. He wore an ivory-white button up with far too many buttons, far too unbuttoned to be appropriate. A cream suit-jacket-esque sweater rested overtop that. The pattern on it held delicate handstitched purple-flowers… maybe gillyflowers? Was he from Gillikin Country? Regardless, he wore a strand of pearls around his throat, haphazardly. His rose-tinted glasses perched on the tip of his nose and a large oversized blue suede fedora hat hid most of his vermillion hair.

Meanwhile, the two accompanying him wore more uniformed outfits. The broad-shouldered one wore a black-suited ensemble with golden embellishments. A cape draped over his shoulder in deep purple. The one who she thought came from a Star had all white linens on, sharp shouldered and corseted tight around his already lean waist. They looked more royal than the so-called prince.

“You’re staring,” Seonghwa stated, blankly.

His gaze caught hers solidly. His gaze was all-consuming. Like he could see right through her. Read her thoughts. Great Oz… she was both intimidated and intrigued by him. He felt magnetic. Her stomach clenched. He tilted his head.

“Sorry,” she blushed.

“Again.” he added, brow twitching into a sharp raise.

His expression made her feel little, like he was throwing her back to the floor metaphorically. Because, he just had to point out that he noticed her staring earlier. He probably thought she was a creep or some dumb farmgirl like the students cajoled.

“Sorry… again.” she said, finally glancing away from him and walking towards an empty spot on a bench instead. She shifted to hold her suitcase in her arms, hugging it close to her chest. The spark twinkled and she didn’t notice aura she put off. A physical manifestation of her magic. It was a gentle aura; something that was more felt and less seen. It felt like dark clouds were hovering around her. A bubble to keep her safe and hidden, subconsciously.

He didn’t stop looking at her still. She knew because she snuck a quick glance and, when their eyes met in that flash, her cheeks matched the red poppies on her dress. The one with the cape chuckled; his eyes flashing to meet hers once more with a playful gleam. He was laughing at her. Sitting down in an empty spot on a bench, she turned her face away to look down the row of students seated next to her. She offered a soft smile about to introduce herself to the one beside her before one after one they scooted away. Glancing at her like she was the plague. “She’s the Munchkin girl; no, no, she’s not of any royal blood – shes just a charity case – maybe she—” Gossip trickled out as the other students sitting there shifted and moved until she was the only one sitting there. An outcast.  

What in Oz was this place?! She knew it was exclusivatory but not like this. So hateful. She wrapped her arms around her suitcase. Her chin rested on top of it as she looked around, making sure not to look at Seonghwa… A third scolding? From him? She’d rather melt into a puddle.

Once everyone had been seated, there was a great hum of a tune – the same alma mater that had twinkled out in chimes to summon them. Some students sang out with pride, knowing every word despite it being their first day. She knew it too; she had read it in her history book. But she refused to embarrass herself anymore today. If she could get through orientation without drawing anymore attention to herself, YN would be content.

Her spark kept a small bubble around her as if telling the world to not disturb her. She heard someone murmur something about, “do you see that odd shimmer around the new girl?”

As if not everyone was new… she pressed her chin into her arms firmer. Orientation and then she can get settled and try to start tomorrow on a better foot.

“Welcome students!” cried out a fancy-looking woman approaching the podium. Her dress was swirling with ancient blue magic; her hat a sharp point upon her head. A sorceress, no, a Witch! YN’s eyes perked up and she gazed up at the Witch in wonder. A real-life witch… a Good Witch of the North! How oztastic.

“Welcome, welcome to Shiz University. I am Madame Ozma, Headmistress here. Whether you are here to study logic, literature, or linguification, I know I speak for my fellow faculty members when I say we have nothing but the highest hopes for… some of you,” it was said in jest and a chuckle waved through the crowd.

“While all subjects are valued here at Shiz, I do want to bring some attention to two very lucky, very talented students that will be joining my sorcery seminar this semester. As you all know – sorcery is the life blood of Oz, and it’s a blessing and duty to cultivate any magic talent that shows itself. As rare as it is. It’s been decades since there have been two students studying sorcery concurrently. Their powers brought into a new age – as we all know.”

There was a murmur of agreement. Everyone knew of the Wicked Witch and Glinda the Good.

“Such a gift should be celebrated.” Ozma exclaimed out. “Uplifted. Guided towards the Light”

There was a scattering of applause. Her cheeks were burning red once more. Her head tilted downwards. The letter hadn’t mentioned this. Good Oz, she wanted to hide.

“Please rise, Miss YN of Munchkinland.”

A silence washed over the crowd in shock. All eyes snapped to her. Hongjoong let out a laugh in the silence, the sound bursting forth from his chest without a care. Blink, blink, blink; she felt like she was an art display of exhibition. Could she just ignore it? What would happen if she didn’t stand? No one really knew if she was YN after all?

“Don’t be shy.” The Headmistress encouraged.

Oh, Great Oz… With poppy-tinted ears, she slowly stood, ruby-cheeked and tight-smiled. That feeling of magic tingled in her chest, fluttering as her anxiety grew. It wanted to burst out – protect her from the murmur that rose through the students. Gossip rolled in wave as they leaned into one another. Whispering what? She didn’t want to know.

“Thank you, dearie. And, rise Sir Seonghwa of Gillikin Country.” She beamed out, encouraging a round of applause once more.  

YN’s gaze flashed to where Seonghwa rose as well, waving polite and light. Unlike her, he held such an elegance she didn’t have. Of course, he had magic! Of course, he was a Knight! She was sure he could control it better than she could ever control her wild thing of a magic spark. And now they were going to have private lessons together? After his friends made fun of her? After school-wide ridicule? After he reprimanded her for staring! She wanted to crawl into a corn field and rot.

“Our two sorcerers-in-training,” she declared over polite clapping. “We will be seeing lots and lots of each other.” Madame Ozma promised her and Seonghwa before nodding and allowing them to sit. The Headmistress beamed at the students before shifting her attention to another professor who began to prattle about dormitories, their roommates, and where the halls were located.

Sitting down quick, she wished she could just sink into the ground. How was she going to stand being around him? She blushed if he even so looked at her. How would she focus?

-

Once orientation ended, it was like a stampede. The students shuffled and hustled around her, rushing towards the many faculty who were handing out keys to their dormitories and pointing on grand scrolls and proclaiming, “Yes, yes, Ms. Gale, you are in the North Dormitory. No, you can’t trade roommates. Yes, its permanent.” Overlapping and overwhelming, the world of Shiz was back in swing – the orientation a flurry of too many moments and moving bodies.

YN stayed on the outskirts of the chaos, peering through a navy sea of uniforms to peer up at the many scrolls, listing out name after name. She’s already embarrassed herself enough for today; she’ll wait ‘til the crowd dispersed she decided.

“There must have been a miscommunication,” she heard Seonghwa’s smooth voice like a siren’s call. She couldn’t help but have her eyes flicker towards him. How could she hear him so well? It was like her body was already in tune with him – he was so far away and yet she could pick him out of a crowd. He was a beautiful flower surrounded by weeds.

Seonghwa’s face was crinkled, divine confusion making his upturned brows

“This isn’t right,” he continued, raising a polite hand towards a faculty member. “The Gillikin Prince requested a private apartment – for himself, Sir Choi San, and myself. But I only see his Highness and San listed.”

“Name?” the bunny-faculty member chirped out.

“Park Seonghwa,” he told him.

There was a shuffling of papers, the rabbit-professor humming and bumbling.

“Ah, yes, yes,” the rabbit nodded, his mouth chittering a bit as he chewed on the edge of his pen. “I see – no, no mix up, Sir Seonghwa. Thank you.”

“Where is my dormitory then?” Seonghwa snapped, his tone sharp and authoritarian before he swallowed and followed it up with a soft ‘please’.

“With Miss YN, of course,” It wasn’t the rabbit-professor who spoke but the nearby Headmistress. She walked forward; the rabbit-professor bowed in her direction and Seonghwa followed suit, bowing his head politely.

“YN, dear,” Madame Ozma called, “Join us.”

Seonghwa’s gaze turned and met hers – because, of course, like two magnets their eyes found one another immediately. It felt like she was caught staring for the third time. Bumbling, YN nodded and stood with her suitcase, walking forward.

“Yes, Madame,” she called, curtsying and bowing and rushing forward to the Headmistress. “Honor to meet you.”

“What do you mean I am rooming with Miss YN?” Seonghwa redirected.

Nearby, she heard Hongjoong giggled out manically. “This is perfect,” the red-head commented.

“Hush, your Highness,” Seonghwa scolded over his shoulder with ease, not even glancing at the Prince. Too natural, too routine, like he knew where the Prince was at all times without even looking his way. The Prince still giggled, and surprisingly San joined him in his mischievousness.

“Yes, Seonghwa, you will be sharing an apartment with YN,” the Headmistress confirmed, her head nodding towards the Munchkinlander. “I thought that was made clear to you through our letters?”

Seonghwa’s head turned, almost like an owl, to stare down the chortling Royal and the smirking San.

“I must’ve missed that letter,” he replied slowly.

“As did I,” YN piped up. “I never received anything besides – well, besides entry into the school and your approval of joining the seminar.”

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry,” the Madame apologized, squeezing the arm of YN. “I will inquire my office about correspondence throughout Oz and where there were any mishaps.”

She nodded lightly before glancing towards Seonghwa who seemed so indifferent to her as he turned back to face the Headmistress. Like a statue, his facial features had settled into a calm, neutral glaze.

“However, I must apologize; there are not two room available for you both. There is only one apartment closest to my offices – I want to have myself available to you both as often as possible. Magical growth doesn’t happen overnight nor does it follow any class schedule,” she chuckled lightly. “The apartment is up to standards, one of the best if I do say so myself.”

The two sorcerers-in-training spoke over one another next.

“I don’t doubt that,” YN replied.

“It’s not about that!” Seonghwa exclaimed.

They locked gazes once more. The man swallowed, his Adam's apple jittering, before looking away forcibly.

Her face fell visibly. Was he so… disgustified by her that he couldn't even share a space with her? She was an adult. She wouldn’t be dirty or disrespectful as a roommate. She'd leave him be but with how he was acting - it was as if she was some lowly creature. He didnt even care if the apartment was the nicest ones on campus! She could only imagine its history and beauty and yet... he was acting so adamant.

“I am here as protection for his Highness,” Seonghwa stated whole-heartedly. “First-and-foremost.”

“I understand,” the Headmistress asserted. “His Highness, Prince Kim Hongjoong has written me most ardently over the summer requesting for his apartment to be furnished only for two – him and Sir Choi. He expressed his full support to your studies.”

At the new information, there was a flicker of dust whirling off of the sorcerer's bare skin; his honey skin glimmering as magic oozed from him. He rolled his tongue over his teeth before Seonghwa finally let out a huff of frustration. His perfect mask fell as he gritted his teeth.

“And I do,” Hongjoong drawled from behind them. He took a step forward, red glasses pushed into his hair as he looked at his friend earnestly. “Hwa, you’ve protected me your entire life – its time for your talent to grow.” It was said genuinely but Seonghwa’s anger, no matter how small buzzed and bubbled in the air. She could see his hair rise with static electricity just faintly. His magic was so reactive… just like hers.

She had never met another wizard or witch; only read about them. And to see his magic surging in a near invisible dust-like ember around him, the little tells of its reactions on his body, it felt like for once she had someone who would understand her.

If only he didn't despise her.

“There are no curfews,” the Headmistress reminded. “If you wish to stay at his Highness’ suite, no one will stop you. But I’m sorry; there are no other official accommodations I can provide.”

Seonghwa took in a deep breath through his nose before offering a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s alright, Headmistress. Thank you for the clarification. I’m sure me and YN will – we'll be fine. We will find a solution.” He stumbled over the right word.

She felt like he was already planning to sneak out of their dorm or distance himself from her as soon as the Headmistress floated away. He hadnt looked at her since she joined them.

“Very good. That's what I like to hear - my two sorcerers working together” The Headmistress beamed. Her magic blared out in a whirl of golden light with her happiness, looking like a living candle for a moment. “I do look forward to our lessons, but for now… welcome to Shiz.”

Yeah, what a welcome.

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

never been (stage) kissed

Summary: After years of being a struggling actress in Los Angeles, you finally land your big break! The only problem is, you’ve been cast opposite your longtime celebrity crush… Ruby Cruz. What will you do when the director demands a kiss between the two of you?

Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader

Contains: mature language, small amount of adult humor, kissing, fluff, thigh touching, in depth details of Hollywood movie shooting, anxious!reader, publicity tweets and comments, ruby being the sweetest girl EVER

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: This is a Real Person Fiction. I’ve included a mass disclaimer of RPF guidelines here. Make SURE to click the link before reading, it’s extremely important for the safety of all Real People involved in this fiction.

———

You stared at the movie script in your hand, biting your lip to stop from squealing. After being in Los Angeles for the past five years, you had finally landed your big break.

You had known that you wanted to act ever since your mother signed you up to be a munchkin in a community theatre production of “The Wizard of Oz.” Of course, being a stubborn elementary schooler, you fought her on it, saying the songs were “stupid” and the costumes were “itchy.” But as soon as opening night came, and the lights hit your face, you put on a smile and celebrated the death of the Wicked Witch like it was something you’d been waiting for your entire life.

After the song's last note, deafening applause echoed around the theater, causing adrenaline to course through your veins. In that moment, you decided to spend the rest of your life chasing that feeling.

When you reached middle school, you joined their drama department, taking theatre as an elective class while occasionally participating in the school plays. Once high school rolled around, you began to take some of the more advanced classes, and even competed in a couple One-Act Play competitions. A lot of the people you started taking classes with eventually got bored and left to pursue other hobbies, but over the years you just fell more and more in love with acting, and became completely dedicated to your craft.

Instead of attending college, after you graduated high school you packed up whatever you needed and moved across the country to a small town about half an hour away from Los Angeles. The area was slightly sketchy, your apartment was small, and you had to work two jobs while sharing with four other roommates just to make rent.

Los Angeles kinda… sucked. But you had stars in your eyes and couldn’t be happier.

Unfortunately, you were kind of in for a rude awakening once audition season rolled around. Back in high school, you would book leads left and right. Now, it seemed like the only gigs you could book were background work, maybe a role in a rinky-dink student film if you were lucky. You always took what you could get, but you longed for something that could get your foot in the door.

One day, one of the short films you starred in entitled “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens” got entered into some film festival, and not only did it win an award you couldn’t remember the name of, it ended up going viral on YouTube, and not in a bad way either. Your performance in that film was astounding.

Plus, not that this was the sole reason the film blew up, but as an actress in your early 20’s who tended to take care of herself, you were kind of… well… hot.

Suddenly, you were getting recognized in public, signed with an agency, and landing more notable roles. You were featured in a music video for an up-and-coming country artist, booked a commercial for a costume makeup company (in which you brought back your look from “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens”), and even starred in three episodes of a new series on HBO Max.

Just when you thought life couldn’t get any better, one day you were coming back from what was either your third or fourth audition of the day, when you got a call from your agent on the drive home. You groaned, almost certain she was calling to schedule another “last-minute” audition. Sure you appreciated how hard she worked to get you booked, but you were also so tired after a long day.

To your surprise, when you picked up the phone, she ecstatically announced that you had booked a huge role.

In a feature film.

Starring alongside your celebrity crush… Ruby Cruz.

You had to pull over on the side of a highway to keep from swerving out of excitement.

Ruby had been your celebrity crush since you saw her in the Disney+ series “Willow.” Her masculine ambience, her devil-may-care attitude, and the way she swung her sword had you absolutely drooling. Somehow, you finished the entire series in two days, and immediately ran to IMDB to add Every Single Thing she’s been in to your watch list.

Now, you stood in front of the building where your first read-through was supposed to take place, the script for “Aliens of Atlantis” resting in your shaking hands. You gulped as you pushed open the door, wondering how you were going to keep your cool around Ruby when the very thought of her practically sent you into cardiac arrest.

Walking into the reading room, you were met with several chairs arranged into a circle and sounds of chatter from the other actors. You recognized a few of them from some smaller projects, even recognizing one from a movie that had come out the previous year. Your eyes scanned the room for Ruby, heart beating out of your chest when they landed on the back of a choppy brunette bob.

When Ruby turned around, you swore her blue eyes sparkled under the fluorescent lights. She caught you staring at her from across the room, and shot you a wide toothy smile before walking over to you.

“Hey,” she started. “You must be Zephyra.”

You blinked at her. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Zephyra.” She repeated. “You’re playing the alien queen of Atlantis, right?”

She furrowed her eyebrows at you slightly and tilted her head, worried she may have gotten you mixed up with someone else.

Her words clicked in your head, finally. “Oh! Yes! I’m playing the role of Zephyra.”

Ruby’s smile returned as she let out a lighthearted chuckle. You swallowed, trying to keep your cool. You still had trouble wrapping your mind around the fact that you were standing in front of the Ruby Cruz, and having a semi-successful conversation.

She stuck out her hand, offering a handshake. “Hi, I’m Ruby. I’m playing Calantha.”

You took her hand, electric shocks vibrating through your body at her touch. “Nice to meet you.”

After removing her hand (much to your displeasure), she turned to walk back over to her seat, but not before flashing you a smile over her shoulder. “Can’t wait to work with you!”

God, why did she have to be so cool?

The table read went fairly well, in your opinion. The movie was about Calantha, an underwater adventurer, finding the lost city of Atlantis during an expedition. Once there, she finds the city being ruled by aliens who’s spaceship crashed near the area about 100 years ago. Calantha finds Zephyra, the alien queen, who makes her promise to keep their secret, and in return, Calantha will help her run the city.

You were playing Zephyra, of course, since being in “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens” proved you looked hot even in otherworldly makeup. You kind of thought there might be some romantic or even sexual tension between Calantha and Zephyra, but you brushed it off as you thought that might not be the artistic intention.

Once filming started, your days were basically exclusively spent on set. Not that you were complaining, you loved every second. Even after coming home at 1am when you left for work at 6am, a blissful smile would be painted across your tired face.

The only thing that bothered you was that you barely ever got to talk to Ruby on set. It was more your fault than hers. Every time you two were working together, your brain short circuited and you couldn’t get out anything more than a few dim-witted babbles. Ruby was always so sweet about it though, always lightheartedly chuckling at your barely-comprehensible speech, sometimes even giving your upper arm a squeeze if you felt especially nervous.

You knew she meant well, but any touch from your celebrity crush was sure to do the opposite of calming you down.

One day, during a filming session, you and Ruby were meant to be sitting especially close to each other. You were sure you felt some romantic tension between the two characters, but you chalked it up to your crush on the actress and tried to downplay it. The director, however, seemed very frustrated today, this was the nineteenth take of this particular scene and he still wasn’t happy.

“Cut!” He yelled, letting out a frustrated sigh as you and Ruby turned your attention towards him.

“Everything alright, sir?” Ruby asked, making you glad you weren’t the only one who noticed his irritation.

“This scene… it’s missing something.” He brought his hand to his chin and squinted at the both of you. “Do we think we could add a kiss? Right here?”

Your heart stopped, and all the moisture disappeared from your mouth.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t kissed people before. You had your fair share of dates back in high school, that wasn’t the problem.

You’ve kissed, but you’ve never stage kissed.

Sure you had plenty of acting experiences, but the roles you played never required kissing. Instead of playing Aurora, you made a fabulous Maleficent. While Elle Woods locked lips with Emmett, you were busy portraying a hilarious Paulette. And of course, nobody wants to make out with a zombie prom queen.

You had no idea if there was any difference between actual kisses and stage-kisses. Obviously, sex scenes in movies weren’t real. But kisses? What if there is a difference and you go to kiss Ruby on camera and make her uncomfortable? What if she pushes you away? What if she gets mad? You don’t know how you’d recover from something like that, and your mind swarmed with plans to flee the country if that did happen.

Ruby opened her mouth to answer the director, before looking at you for confirmation and noticing your overly-panicked state. She sent you a reassuring smile, and placed a gentle hand on your back.

She turned to the director. “Could we pick this up after lunch? I think my scene partner and I have some things to discuss.”

The director agreed, and since it was still about thirty minutes to lunch, decided to use that time to record some “room noise.” You and Ruby were meant to sit still and quietly, the only thing you heard being the echo of your heartbeat in your ears.

Suddenly, you received a text notification, causing sound to go off and the director to groan and shoot you an annoyed look. You mumbled a quick “sorry” before switching your phone to vibrate and looking to see who texted you.

After wolfing down a sandwich from the craft services table, you stood in front of the trailer with Ruby’s name on the door, wringing your clammy hands while deciding whether or not to knock. You took a deep breath, raised your knuckles, and knocked three times, taking a step back after.

She answered almost immediately, staring down at you with a comforting grin. “Hey, come on in.”

Walking up the stairs and into Ruby’s trailer, you couldn’t help but notice how much cleaner it was than yours. You weren’t necessarily sloppy, but your vanity was covered in various bottles of blue face paint, while your floor held multiple alien-like prosthetics. Ruby’s was tidier, with a small couch pushed up against the wall, and her vanity holding nothing but some makeup basics and a half-full can of Dr. Pepper she had been drinking right before you walked in.

Ruby took a seat in her vanity chair and took a sip from her Dr. Pepper, motioning for you to sit on the small couch. “What’s going on? You didn’t seem too comfortable with the kissing scene.”

You gulped, staring down at your lap. “It’s not that…”

Ruby sat up, leaning forward to gawk at you. “Oh my god… have you never been kissed?”

“What? No! Of course I have…” you trailed off. “I just… I’ve never stage kissed before, and I know you have, so is it any different from regular kissing? I feel so stupid for asking and I’m so sorry but I didn’t wanna do it wrong while filming and I’m kinda embarrassed that I don’t know the answer so that’s why I wanted to ask you privately because I didn’t wanna fuck up…”

Ruby stared at you, silent and wide eyed. You felt your heartbeat in your ears as you tried to decipher what she was thinking. Suddenly, she threw her head back and let out a hearty laugh. Your heart sank. Here you were being awkward and vulnerable in front of your crush, and she was laughing at you.

Just before you decided to get up and walk out, Ruby calmed down, wiping away a tear and smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry, I promise I’m not making fun of you. I didn’t mean to laugh, really. You’re just so cute.”

You felt your cheeks burn at her words. She thinks you’re cute?

Ruby threw her soda away in a nearby trash can and moved to sit next to you on the small couch. She criss-crossed her legs, turning to face you while pondering how to answer your question.

“So… stage kisses are different from regular kisses, but they’re also not, you know? Like, we’re kissing but we’re not like… kissing.”

She peered over at you, studying your facial expressions. You looked more confused than ever, so she continued her explanation.

“So, if you’re asking if my lips will physically be on your lips… then the answer is yes, they will. But they’re not exactly like the real thing, because it’s more of a demonstration to the audience rather than an act of passion between two people.”

“A demonstration?” You cocked your head. Ruby nodded.

“Yeah, so say the camera was over there…” she pointed out in front of you. “…then you might cup my jaw, or cradle the back of my head. But if you were to grab my face or something like that, it’d look pretty awkward in a fifty-fifty profile shot.”

You nodded in understanding. “Ok… I think I get what you’re saying.”

“There are also different types of kissing.” Ruby continued. “Like, it should portray how your character feels about the other character. When Zephyra has scenes with Calantha, how does she feel?”

You gulped, focusing on your lap again. “Well, to be honest, it kinda feels like there’s a lot of romantic or sexual tension between our characters, but I’ve sort of been suppressing it because I’m not sure that was the intention.”

“But you feel like Zephyra is attracted to Calantha sexually?” Ruby asked. You nodded. “Great! You don’t necessarily have to make it explicit, but something like that can help you dive deeper into your character.”

Ruby scooted closer to you, taking your hands in hers. She gazed at you with half lidded eyes, causing your breathing to accelerate.

“I want you to kiss me.”

Ruby’s words barely resonated in your head, there was no way you heard her correctly. “You… huh?”

“For practice.” Ruby clarified, letting go of your hands. “Like you would during filming. Is that ok?”

An involuntary swallow forced itself down your throat as you nodded. You couldn’t believe you were about to kiss your celebrity crush, even if it was only for practice.

You pressed your hand into her warm cheek, pulling her close and quickly pecking her lips before retreating away. Your face burned from embarrassment while Ruby cocked her head, clearly confused.

“That’s it?” She asked. “My bad, I didn’t realize Calantha was your grandmother.”

Ruby moved closer and cradled the back of your head, entangling her fingers into your soft locks. You felt your hands sweat as her big blue eyes gazed into yours. “I was thinking maybe something more like this…”

She crashed her lips into yours, causing warmth to explode in your chest. Her fingers played with your hair as you began to kiss back, and your arms wrapped around her waist. Holy shit could she kiss! You could barely fathom how soft her lips were, tasting faintly of Dr. Pepper and vanilla lip balm. As hard as you tried to act professional and pretend there was a camera in front of you, every inch of your body screamed at you to succumb to your most primal instincts.

You lifted one hand from her waist and moved to rest it on her mid-thigh, causing a gentle moan to escape from her lips and a shiver to run down her body. Startled, you moved back, throughly convinced that you majorly fucked up.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, pulling back your hand like it had touched fire. “I wasn’t thinking, fuck. I got too swept up in the moment. I shouldn’t have touched you, that was completely unprofessional.”

“Hm…?” Ruby blinked, still in a daze. “Oh. Oh! You’re good! Don’t be sorry. I liked it. Really.”

Ruby grinned at you shyly. You stared back at her, a question you weren’t quite sure how to ask lingering at the tip of your tongue. “Ruby, are we still… practicing?”

Her smile faded as her eyes went wide, her gaze dropping to her lap. It was her turn to be coy, a sight you’d never seen before.

She dropped her voice to a low whisper as she choked out her question. “Do you want to be?”

Before you could even open your mouth to answer, your phone alarm screeched from your jacket pocket. You took it out, groaning as you turned it off.

Ruby furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “What was that?”

“My alarm,” you answered. “I have to go.”

“But lunch isn’t over for another twenty minutes.” Ruby pointed out, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Yeah, but I have to head back early so they can touch up my makeup and fix my prosthetics.”

Ruby sighed in understanding. She supposed your costume might have a bit more upkeep than hers. Your prosthetics did look a little wonky after the lunch break, never mind your smudged blue lipstain that made her apprehensive to look in a mirror.

You collected yourself and turned to walk out, but looked over your shoulder before opening the door. “Uhm… Ruby?”

“Hm?” She answered.

You wrung your hands anxiously. “Do you think we could maybe… do this again? Sometime?”

Ruby’s head shot up to look at you, and a playful smile spread across her face. “Do what? More kissing lessons?”

You rolled your eyes as she chuckled, then gave you a lopsided grin. “I’d like that. Lunch again, tomorrow?”

A blush pink color sprinkled across the apples of your cheeks as you smiled back at her, trying your best to stay cool and suppress the giddy feeling that was bubbling inside of you.

“See you then.”

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with W Magazine (2024)

Jonathan Bailey has traveled the world to promote Wicked, but there was one person he was especially eager to share the film with: his 94-year-old grandmother. She nurtured his love for musical theater and encouraged him to pursue ballet as a child, thus shaping his career in the arts.

So, the day after Wicked came out in the U.K., Bailey hosted a private screening at a local cinema for four generations of his family. While sitting in between his nana (who had painted her nails green for the occasion) and his mom and dad, Bailey became overcome with emotion.

“It’s a miraculous thing to know that what it came down to is having parents who let me go to the local village hall, and a grandparent who let me play, dance around and sing, and be free at such a young age,” Bailey tells W. “If you can catch a passion and just ring-fence it at such a young age, you never know what it can amount to.”

Adapted from the iconic Broadway stage musical, the film, which is set before the events of 1939’s The Wizard of Oz, chronicles the friendship between Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), the future Wicked Witch of the West, and her classmate Galinda (Ariana Grande), later known as Glinda the Good.

Bailey’s scene-stealing portrayal of Fiyero Tigelaar, the charismatic Crown Prince of Winkie Country, only reaffirms his status as a Hollywood triple threat. In fact, “Dancing Through Life,” the earworm that serves as his character’s introduction at Shiz University, just cracked Billboard’s Hot 100 charts this week. (“That’s amazing. Do I get a certificate? What happens now?” Bailey quips.)

Bailey began rehearsing for Wicked in 2022 while shooting Fellow Travelers, the groundbreaking Showtime limited series that earned the 36-year-old his first Emmy nomination, and the third season of Bridgerton, the smash-hit Netflix romantic drama that made him a household name. Speaking on a video call from London in early December, the British star reveals that he is in the middle of reprising his role as Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, who is expecting his first child with wife Kate Sharma (Simone Ashley).

“There’s such an important relationship with the [Bridgerton] bros that has been developed over the series. Season four is going to be Luke [Thompson] and Yerin [Ha] being absolutely extraordinary, and there’s a whole plethora of new characters coming in,” Bailey says. “It’s so nice to come back, and it’s about celebrating the romance stories we’ve had and digging into the ones that are starting.”

Patience will have to be a virtue for Wicked and Bridgerton fans alike; the second half of the former, which Bailey coyly describes as “rich, bruising and hopeful,” will premiere next November, while the latter will debut in 2026.

How did you think about building your own interpretation of Fiyero?

The starting point was “Dancing Through Life.” He creates chaos around him, like he does in that song, because he’s got to match the chaos that’s going on inside. The challenge that I felt was the trope of a cool caddish prince. He’s deeply unnerved by stillness and adhering to rules and structure. That is probably a sign of someone who’s never really experienced love. When you see someone causing that sort of disturbance, it’s usually because they’ve never felt seen. An organizational psychologist, Adam Grant, sent me a message saying, “It’s a masterful portrayal of superficiality masking depth.” Out of all the things I’ve heard, that is the thing I’m going to get printed on a T-shirt.

The Shiz library scene was inspired by the work of Fred Astaire in Royal Wedding. What did you want to convey in those moments?

Fiyero has to come in and change the physical language and the emotional landscape of that school in one number. His fluidity, ease, and elasticity speak to his ability to maneuver and avoid. He’s quite avoidant. He has these bright, shining moments with everyone but never really allows the other person to land it with him. For those who understand the physical language of Fiyero, there are many Easter eggs and nods to what happens to him later in the story.

Fiyero is at the center of a love triangle between Elphaba and Galinda. What do you think he sees in each of them?

The brilliant thing about the film is that these slightly trivial tropes mask extraordinarily deep and shifting understandings of social experiences. The superficiality, the privilege, and the sense of easy chemistry make sense with Glinda. But I feel like he’s yearning for something more, and, as Elphaba sees, he’s unhappy and depressed. Fiyero and Elphaba can click in terms of the way they sing, dance, and move together. Elphaba has a calming presence on Fiyero and allows him to be himself. It’s a real privilege to meet someone who sees you for who you really are.

Are there any songs from the second Wicked movie you are most excited about?

“No Good Deed”—I cannot wait to see that come together. And “Thank Goodness”—it’s just such an incredibly operatic, Wagnerian opening. We know how brilliant the girls are, and I’m so excited to see the tonal shift that will inevitably happen to get to the end of the story.

You’ve been leveraging the success of projects with massive, global appeal (Bridgerton, Wicked, the next Jurassic World) to return to the theater (like your next role in Richard II).How have you been balancing these big tentpole franchises with projects that feel more niche and intimate?

I always lead with joy, and I’ve never accepted a job cynically. It goes back to this instinct—it feels like romance—where you have butterflies in your stomach and clarity of thought. I go back to the stage because I want to get better—and I want to be the best I can be. The best performances I’ve ever given on screen have been directly after coming off stage, where you hone your craft every single night. It’s brilliant, joyful, academic, and exhausting.

I’ve read more scripts in the last four years than probably in 20 years of working. It’s amazing to get sent scripts that you’re like, “This is absolutely brilliant. It’s not quite right for me, but I wonder if I can help that get made.” I’ve got a producer's hat that’s been popped on a few times in the last year, and I’m sure it’ll be coming out to play soon.

I want to keep working until something like Fellow Travelers isn’t seen as niche. We’re only on this planet for a short time, but if Fellow Travelers can be a mainstream show by the time I’ve finished my innings, I’d be very happy.

The last time Bridgerton viewers saw Anthony and Kate, they were on their way to India to meet with Kate’s family. Now that those characters are married, what are some of the new layers you’ve found in their relationship?

Anthony and Kate are these two planets that have always been in orbit of each other, and they finally come together. But then, what is life beyond [their courtship]? What’s so interesting about Anthony and what I so enjoyed in his season one arc is his relationship with duty and the power that he wielded over Daphne and his family, the isolation that he felt, and the anger that ensues because of [the passing of] his father.

I always said that you want Anthony to smile, and he does with Kate; he’s found his soulmate. In season three, they have that playfulness and, for the first time, they disregard anything that’s going on around them. They were the heart of every bit of drama and complication and, my God, how dramatic it was! Now suddenly, they’re having the time of their life, getting to play games again. They’re having a baby—everything they’ve ever wanted. What’s brilliant is to see how there are elements of yourself that you can’t grow out of. So, maybe, we’ll see hints of Anthony from season one.

Source

[yellowbrickramble]

Obviously, Dorothy didn't wear the exact same dress for her entire stay in Oz. She was there for roughly two months!

Nonestica is often the name given to the continent where Oz is located. A map first appeared in the 8th book, Tik-Tok of Oz. Many of the surrounding countries are from some of Baum's other non-Oz books. For instance, the forest of Burzee on the lower left is from The Life & Adventures of Santa Claus.

Now, this is a low resolution image, but if you're very clever, you may not have needed to read the compass rose to notice that east and west are reversed. Even people who have only ever seen the 1939 movie know the witch of the EAST enslaved the Munchkins and the witch of the WEST enslaved the Winkies.

Dick Martin and James Hoff later came up with an expanded version of the map that "corrected" the directions:

A lot of people like this one and I'm not an exception, but it wouldn't hurt to make the surrounding areas a little bigger.

Now, Robert A. Heinlein (yes, that Robert A. Heinlein) once proposed that the compass in the first map is flipped because Oz is on planet with a retrograde rotation. I love that explanation. It's canon to Yellow Brick Ramble.

So, I based the planet of Nonestica on all three of these interpretations with some tweaks of my own. I included a few other continents. One of them is called Tazara. I doubt all the lands on this planet are magical, as Oz is a special land. I did a little math and I'm guessing Oz is roughly 4 times the size of Kansas?

The planet of Earth, on the other hand, is one most of you are familiar with.

If you like my comics, please support me on Patreon (link in bio)

[itsbensart]

Burnt Out but Not Alone

Pairing: Fiyero Tigelaar x Male Reader | Part 2

Summary: Y/N feels overwhelmed by his demanding workload and the pressure of looming deadlines. Despite his exhaustion, he refuses to take a break, even as concern grows from friends like Elphaba—and even the Winkie Prince. When Fiyero sees just how much Y/N is struggling, he offers unexpected help, proving that sometimes, even the most carefree people can provide the support needed during times of stress.

Warnings: Excessive teasing and playful banter, Subtle romantic tension, Themes of academic pressure and burnout, Light physical touches (e.g., arm grabs), Vulnerability in moments of exhaustion, and Heartwarming support from an unexpected ally.

A/N: Y/N is an Architecture Student specializing in Ozian Architecture at Shiz University, known for its demanding curriculum.

Word Count: 1,743 words

The lecture hall buzzed with the soft hum of conversations, the rhythmic tapping of pens against desks, and the occasional shuffle of papers. Y/N sat in the middle row, staring at his open notebook but not truly seeing it. His thoughts were elsewhere, replaying Fiyero’s smug grin and that low, teasing voice that seemed to follow him even now.

“You know what to do if you want to shut me up, doll.”

The memory sent an involuntary flush to his cheeks. He quickly ducked his head, hoping no one noticed. Shaking his head, he tried to dispel the distraction. This was no time to get flustered. An endless list of tasks awaited, and Professor Solennia was already notorious for her high standards.

Y/N’s chosen course, Ozian Architecture, wasn’t for the faint of heart. It was one of the most demanding programs at Shiz University, known for its rigorous workload and the precision it required. Students delved deep into the rich architectural history of Oz—an eclectic mix of styles balancing the grandeur of Emerald City’s gleaming towers with the rustic charm of Munchkinland’s cottages and the imposing, fortress-like structures of Winkie Country.

Today’s lecture focused on the integration of natural and magical elements in building design, a cornerstone of Ozian architecture. The topic would have been fascinating under other circumstances, but Y/N found himself struggling to concentrate. Between looming deadlines and the lingering echoes of Fiyero’s remarks, his mind was a chaotic mess.

Professor Solennia’s voice cut through his thoughts. “As you can see, the inclusion of enchantments in structural integrity was not merely aesthetic but practical. Now, who can tell me how the dragon clock influenced the design of Emerald City’s central spire?”

Y/N froze as the professor’s gaze swept across the room. He usually prided himself on being prepared for questions like this, but today, his mind was blank. He prayed someone else would answer, his heart pounding as he stared down at his notes—frustratingly empty.

By the end of class, as students filed out, Y/N realized just how little he had retained. The weight of his responsibilities crashed back down on him, amplified by the realization that he was now further behind than before.

He decided to head to the university’s library to tackle his pending tasks—especially the scale model due next week. Though he was exhausted, he had no choice. The output would determine whether he passed this semester.

As he walked through the hallway, he almost bumped into Elphaba, who had been waiting for him to catch up. She noticed his drooping posture and the dark circles under his eyes immediately.

"Y/N," she said, her voice softer than usual, "You look like you haven’t slept in days."

Y/N gave a half-hearted shrug, trying to brush her off. "I’m fine, Elphaba. Just... busy, you know? I have a lot to do."

She narrowed her eyes, not buying his response. "It’s more than just being busy. You’re running yourself ragged. You need rest."

"I don’t have time for rest," Y/N replied, his tone more tired than he meant it to be. "There’s too much to do."

Elphaba hesitated for a moment, clearly concerned. "I get it, but this—" she gestured to him, her eyes lingering on his fatigued form, "—isn't sustainable. You’re only going to burn out."

Y/N gave a small, dismissive smile. "I’ll be fine. I just need to get through this week."

Elphaba didn’t look convinced but didn’t press the matter further. "Alright, just don’t overdo it. Take care of yourself, Y/N."

He nodded quickly, not meeting her eyes, and made his way toward the library, eager to escape the conversation.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Fiyero Tigelaar had been wandering the campus, casually searching for his favorite “doll” to tease. His natural charm and carefree demeanor had earned him a reputation for showing up wherever and whenever he pleased, and today was no different.

As he strolled into the library, his piercing eyes immediately spotted Y/N in his corner.

Fiyero smirked. This was too perfect. He sauntered over, his footsteps deliberately light. “There you are. Hiding in the library, huh? Didn’t think this was your kind of hangout spot.” As he slid into a seat beside Y/N, he leaned closer, his voice low enough to only reach him. “Still thinking about me, doll?”

Y/N clenched his jaw, his ears burning as he hissed, “You wish.”

Fiyero chuckled, clearly pleased with the reaction, and leaned back in his chair. “You’re awfully red for someone who’s not thinking about me.”

Y/N barely looked up, his pencil pausing briefly before resuming its work. “Not now, Fiyero. I’m busy.”

The lack of reaction made Fiyero blink in surprise. Usually, his remarks earned him a flushed face or an exasperated retort. Instead, Y/N’s tone was flat, his focus unbroken.

“Busy?” Fiyero peered down at Y/N’s sketches. “What’s got you so tied up? Another one of those fancy projects?”

“Yes,” Y/N responded curtly. “So please, not now, Fiyero.”

Fiyero, however, seemed unbothered. “So, what’s next, doll? More lectures? Or maybe some of that architectural magic you lot are so obsessed with?”

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh, his patience worn thin. “I have too many tasks to finish. Does that answer your question?”

Fiyero tilted his head, studying Y/N’s face with uncharacteristic seriousness. “You look exhausted.”

“Thanks for noticing,” Y/N muttered, packing up his materials before leaving the library, hoping the prince wouldn’t follow him.

At first, Fiyero assumed it was just another one of Y/N’s quirks—being too serious about academics and all—but as the hours turned into days, he couldn’t ignore the change. The playful teasing he usually dished out with ease seemed to fall flat, met with a tired smile or a quiet nod instead of Y/N’s usual fiery retorts. Fiyero had tried to brush it off, but the concern gnawed at him, growing stronger with each passing day.

One afternoon, while they were in the cafeteria, Fiyero noticed Y/N in line. With a tray in hand, Y/N seemed oblivious to his surroundings, swaying slightly from exhaustion. Just as it seemed Y/N might stumble, Fiyero reacted quickly, grabbing him to prevent a fall.

"Alright, doll," he began, keeping his tone light, though concern lingered beneath the surface. "You’ve been looking like you’re one step away from collapsing. What’s going on?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

Y/N glanced at him briefly, then lowered his gaze to the ground. "Just… school stuff. You wouldn’t understand."

Fiyero frowned, his usual teasing grin replaced with a concerned expression. "Try me."

Y/N sighed long and heavy, adjusting the strap of his overburdened bag. "There’s just too much. Drafts, models, presentations… I can’t keep up. And Ozian Architecture isn’t an easy course. It feels like I’m drowning, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t keep my head above water."

Fiyero came to a stop, gently grabbing Y/N’s arm and halting him in his tracks. "Why didn’t you say anything sooner?"

Y/N shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "What good would it do? It’s not like anyone can help. This is my workload. My responsibility."

Fiyero didn’t respond immediately, instead narrowing his eyes at Y/N’s exhausted face. "How much have you slept? Or even rested?"

The silence that followed was answer enough.

Fiyero’s usual smirk softened into something more like genuine concern. "Alright, doll. Time to take a break."

"I don’t have time for a break," Y/N snapped, his tone sharper than he intended.

Fiyero stood firm, the command in his voice unmistakable. "Then you don’t have a choice. Let’s go," he said, pulling Y/N toward the courtyard with surprising insistence.

"I’m serious, Fiyero. I have so much to—"

"And I’m serious too," Fiyero interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. "You’re running yourself into the ground, and you know it. If you collapse, you’re not going to finish anything."

Y/N frowned, but the warmth of Fiyero’s hand on his arm and the determination in his eyes made resistance feel futile.

They walked in silence, the noise of the cafeteria fading as they headed for the quieter courtyard. Once there, Fiyero led Y/N to a bench, underneath an oak tree. "Sit," he ordered, dropping his own bag onto the ground.

Too tired to argue, Y/N complied.

For once, Fiyero didn’t joke or tease; instead, he looked thoughtful. After a moment, his gaze sharpened. "Alright, here’s what we’re going to do."

Y/N blinked up at him, still a bit disoriented. "What?"

"I’m going to help you."

Y/N let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "You? Help? No offense, Fiyero, but this isn’t exactly your area of expertise."

Fiyero smirked, though it was softer than usual. "Maybe not. But I can still do something. I’ll carry your books, keep you company during late nights, or even distract you when you’re on the verge of a breakdown."

Sitting beside him, Fiyero leaned back, as if the weight of the world didn’t rest on his shoulders. "Look, I might not understand all your architectural mumbo jumbo, but I can help in other ways. You don’t have to do this alone, doll."

Y/N opened his mouth to respond but paused. The sincerity in Fiyero’s eyes caught him off guard. For the first time in days, a small, genuine smile tugged at his lips. "You’re serious?"

"Dead serious," Fiyero replied, his grin widening. "Starting now. So, what’s first on the agenda, Mr. Burnt-Out Architect?"

Y/N hesitated, then admitted, "I have to finish a scale model for tomorrow, and I still need to draft the base plans."

"Easy," Fiyero said, slinging an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. "You draft, I’ll cut and glue. I’m not completely useless, you know."

"You’re really going to help me?" Y/N asked, feeling the weight on his shoulders lighten just a little.

Fiyero chuckled. "What can I say? You’re growing on me. And besides, I can’t have you walking around looking like a zombie. It ruins my fun."

Though exhaustion still pulled at him, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly. "Alright, Tigelaar. Let’s see if you can keep up."

As they made their way toward the studio, Y/N felt a strange warmth spreading through his chest. Maybe, he wouldn’t have to face the chaos alone after all.

And maybe, just maybe, Fiyero Tigelaar was more than just a cocky prince of charm.

To be Continued.....

A/N: Hello! Here’s the second chapter of my series, (I don't have a title yet, so..... yeah). I’m so happy you’re sticking around to see where this story goes—it means a lot!

There’s definitely more drama, love, and emotions coming your way, so keep an eye out for the next chapters. I’d love to hear what you think, feel free to leave a comment. Thanks for reading, and see you in the next one! 😊

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Bend To My Will

The Wizard x gender neutral reader (NSFW 18+ only oneshot)

Summary: Being the personal assistant to The Wizard of Oz isn't so bad, at least until you get in trouble... And even then, it comes with an unexpected perk.

Warnings: unprotected anal sex, age gap (older man/younger reader with height difference), power imbalance dynamic (unprofessional boss/employee), slight degradation, humiliation

Word Count: ~3,430

A/N: Because I can't get enough of Jeff Goldblum's Wizard, here's another shameless smut fic (you can read my other fic here, it's not related to this one and is fem!reader). I tried to make the reader here as gender neutral as possible and there's no use of Y/N in dialogue. This one also takes place before the main climatic events of part one of the movie and obviously is not entirely accurate to canon.

"Hey, is there a letter from Shiz in there somewhere?"

"Yes, sir, there is." You hurry up to the Wizard with this week's bundle of post, just delivered to the palace via flying monkey.

Sometimes a mechanical balloon he invented himself is used along with a monkey for delivery, and mail comes weekly, both in and out. It's the fastest method and his untidy loopy scrawl regularly trades with others' contrasting elegant scripts. Today one such letter is indeed from Madame Morrible, the headmistress of Crage Hall at Shiz University in Gillikin Country, complete with a large, stamped wax seal bearing the school's emblem. You can't help but notice he is always eager to receive her correspondence and then later he's often disappointed as if she never told him what he wanted to hear. If you didn't know any better, you'd presume he fancies the older woman. From your limited observed interactions, you're not sure if it's a reciprocated feeling. Her typical look is a glacial gaze and aloof presence, and often seems impatient with him, like he gets under her skin, but sometimes she merits him a seemingly true smile and he acts all giddy. It doesn't take much to please him.

"Did you make sure my last letter got out? I haven't heard back," the Wizard asks idly, distracting you from private speculation. He's seated down in his rich crimson tall-backed chair and hurriedly splitting open the ivory envelope with the sharp blade of a letter opener. He never opens his mail in front you or any staff for that matter, so it must be rather urgent. His eyes rake through the written contents hungrily and something sparks in there, as his mustache twitches with a spreading smile.

"Ah. Golly, that's good. Very good indeed," he mutters to himself before tucking the paper back in the envelope and stuffing it deep in the nearest drawer.

"Did you hear what I asked of you?" he asks a bit irritably, shuffling the other less important letters around in front of him into a neat stack and you quickly gather your bearings.

"Oh, yes, um, I..." You trail off embarrassingly, racking your brain for the memory of the last delivery.

It had been the prior Friday and all you remembered was it had been a very long day of errands back and forth around Emerald City (the Wizard never leaves his palace, so everything is brought to him) in addition to daily "housekeeping" duties. You suddenly recall your regrettable encounter with the mail carrier monkey.

"I-I'm afraid not, s-sir," you stammer in ashamed admittance.

"What?! How could you forget!" His voice pitches up two notches in panicked disapproval. It's not like you're known to make mistakes, after all.

"I'm very, terribly sorry your Ozness, it was an absolute mistake, I did pick it up and bring it to the monkey, but he was in a foul mood and we got into a tussle, so then I decided to just take it to the post office instead, but it must've dropped out of my satchel when I ran... The clasp gets loose sometimes and..." You give up explaining, watching his face cloud over in stormy disappointment and it's better to shut up before you're struck with a nasty bolt of verbal lightning.

He sighs heavily and flicks a finger out to play with a spinning model of the solar system, poking and prodding at the little gold planets.

"There's no excuse for this. Let's dearly hope that letter is only lost in a gutter or bin somewhere and not in the hands of enemies. Damn those animals and Animals, the lot aren't to be trusted, I'll have to have Chistery smack that troublemaker around or I'll have a stern word with him myself... And as for you..." He frowns deeply, dangerously, and without further words, you take this as a sign to retreat, backing away to the door with your head hung low. You wonder if your pay will be docked for this. Maybe you should knock off early today and go straight home and count what savings you have to prepare in case he decides to sack you. You'd been so fortunate to get this position after a rigorous interview process (and mostly due to your family's connections to wealthy socialites) and now you've blown it because of a dumb monkey and it's a stupid mistake that - if he's right in the worst assumption - could get people killed. You don't even know what was in the letter, if it was seriously political or not, but judging by his reaction, it wasn't casual correspondence.

"Get over here," the Wizard commands abruptly, loudly rapping the wood top of the grand desk with his knuckles in clear annoyance.

You scuffle closer, afraid of his possible wrath; he could yell at you or even use a type of magic? Dread wells up deep in your bowels and every step closer feels like impending doom.

He's intimidating to be in front of. Much too tall and far stronger than you even for an old man, and for a moment, you see clearly, etched in his features, the inspiration from where the threatening mechanical head display comes from. His long coat has been removed and drapes over the back of the chair, leaving him in his vest and high collared shirt, and you try not to focus like a magpie on all the shiny bits and bobbles and chains attached to the front. He's appropriately stylish yet eccentric and unpredictable enough to throw off an edge.

"Yes, sir?" you croak out as you stare up, now only two feet away. He reaches out and you instinctively flinch, but he means no physical harm.

His fingers surprisingly land tenderly upon your cheek and trace along your jawline, slowly, as if inspecting your bone structure and skin. Frozen in place, you stand numbly before him, staring at the neat trim of his mustache and goatee patch because you can't make contact with those intense brown eyes boring into your face. Your gaze wanders to stick on his lips and for a crazy second, you long to touch them, to feel the perfectly full soft shape. Somehow, he's even more handsome than you'd ever realized before. You catch a whiff of his heady cologne and just that does something to your brain, making you slightly woozy.

"You, uh, understand this 'mistake' is unacceptable, right? That I don't allow slip-ups often especially when it comes to business correspondence?" he asks in a low, nearly guttural voice that makes you quiver in... forbidden feelings.

He doesn't seem quite so cold and frightening up close like this, and you can see in his eyes he isn't a man to cower in fear from. There is some strange vulnerability to him, like you should be the one comforting him, but that doesn't make any sense.

"I understand. Please, I promise I'll be more diligent. Don't blame the monkey too much."

He grunts in approval, dropping his hand from your face and slipping it into the pocket of his patterned green pants. He wavers on his feet slightly, as if in indecision, and you start to open your mouth to speak when - with a single swift motion - he spins you around in a 180 and you fall straight forward onto the desktop. Something scatters and clatters to the ground. A gasp slips from your lips and the air heaves from your lungs as your head spins to reorient to this new position, stomach cringing from the coolness of the hard wood. The Wizard grips your waist hard from behind and you feel his hot breath in your ear as he speaks in a purring warning.

"You're good at pleasing me because your job requires it, right? Well, now here's a chance for me to please both of us. Of course, it's still a punishment for your silly error, so don't be smiling about it. And if you keep up this new habit of ineptness and getting into fights with my nonhuman staff, it is going to be your downfall and you'll find yourself groveling and licking my shoes in desperation to keep on living comfortably, understand?"

You can only barely nod in shocked disbelief, and he pauses for a second, still breathing on your earlobe.

"You like me a lot, don't you?"

"Yes, of course your Ozness. You are very admirable and wonderful."

He clucks his tongue, and a hand playfully smacks your ass. Lightly, but makes you jump, nonetheless.

"No, no, not that trifle crap that everyone says. You want me in the worst way, don't you? You always wonder what's really behind the curtain?"

Your cheeks burn hot as coals in guilt. Yes, you maybe had fostered a teeny tiny crush on him only weeks into the job and still really do actually, but it means nothing, right? He's everything and you're just another meager staff member drawn into his power and charisma, his caring (almost paternal?) presence.

"Well?" He sounds impatient and the increasing hold around your middle demands an answer.

"Y-Yes," you finally admit quietly, feeling as though the Unnamed God might as well strike you down now.

"Right, I thought so. You aren't quite like the other folks around here, I can tell. So, uh... Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

You're speechless as he proceeds to unzip and tug your pants down, and they pool around your ankles, fainting fabric.

"I've had to see you walk around in these tight fucking pants for two years straight and resist the urge to bend you over this very desk... Think my job's easy?"

You let out an embarrassingly strangled sort of noise that makes him chuckle dirtily as he continues undressing you, peeling off your underwear with his expert fingers, slipping it down to your ankles and you gape as your privates are exposed to the air of the room and more importantly to him... Oz the Great and Terrible!

This was completely indecent and unprofessional, and frankly disgustifying of you to allow. What if guards came in for no reason and caught this act? There would certainly be no encore.

As if he reads your mind, the Wizard speaks in assurance.

"Door's locked, darling. Nobody's gonna find us, but you better keep any profane noises down to an acceptable level. Those damn monkeys eavesdrop, I swear, and we don't want your vulgarity rubbing off on them, do we?"

You let an uncontrollable guffawing laugh loose and then a groan as he grabs you tighter, squeezing your bare skin in sure, secure hands. He murmurs into your hair at the crown of your head.

"Shh. Don't get hysterical now. We've barely started anything and already you're crumbling to pieces. You're kind of pathetic, aren't you?"

You nod meekly again because you're in no position to challenge him and let him continue.

He removes his vest and tosses it carelessly on the chair and then rolls up his starched white shirt sleeves to his elbows. You hear him fumbling around in a desk drawer and your face twists in confusion when you hear the popping lid of a bottle.

"This is, uh, just some lubricant to help. I could cure a drought with this stuff," he explains jokingly, and you hiss in discomfort when you feel a very slick gel-like cool substance being slathered on your skin and most intimate parts from behind. You wonder briefly why he keeps that in his desk in the first place. Shouldn't this be taking place in a bedroom, not his office?

When he's applied enough lube, you listen to him unzipping and stripping off his own pants which also fall to the floor, and then you feel a solid stiffness emulating from a particular region as the fabric of his green boxers rubs against your buttocks.

"Now hold still while I free this big puppy," he says, somehow with a straight face you presume by the tone of his voice, and soon enough, there isn't shielding fabric anymore.

You can feel his thick fleshy cock against your ass, already beaded in precum, and starting to push forward. His purring husky voice is in your ear again, echoing around in your very head.

"If you tell a single soul about any of this we're doing, I will fire you and have you exiled to the outermost sandstone desert. Understand, gumdrop?"

You gulp at the threat and raise your brows at the random sweet nickname.

"Yes, sir."

"That's what I expect to hear."

You yelp as he thrusts into your ass, and you scramble to grab the sides of the desk for support.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, no hollering, okay?" His words clumsily mean to comfort, but his body continues, and the motion shakes and rocks the entire desk. All his trinkets and paperweights rattle or roll or fall down to the floor noisily.

Your nerves are set on fire and gradually a wetness leaks from unmentionable areas, both yours and his. The office feels stifling in temperature, but maybe the heat is actually emulating from just you and him, friction banging together. He ruts against your body in an animalistic frenzy that must look not very romantic from the outside, but on the inside, you are feeling a soaring pleasure you didn't think was possible. It's true, then, what they say. The Wizard does please people - just not in a way you ever expected. You always have been one to try to keep your head down, don't draw much attention, just do your job and get through the day, but he makes you feel like you're suddenly on top of the fucking world.

You grunt and moan as he goes harder and faster, pushing in and out of your tight hole, and finally he growls out a very gentlemanly "Oh fuck!" as he spills outside.

You cum just before he does, and the mix of fluids splatter part of his desk and run down the side, just missing a tiny toppled figurine of the Wizard himself by inches. You almost laugh again at the shocking absurdity of this moment. You've seen a side of this man in power that you never thought possible before and now you're not sure if you should be entranced or horrified that he really is just a purely biological man.

The Wizard is panting and clutching you like his life depends on it, and you catch your own breath that has fled to the other side of the room, scaling the walls for escape. When you finally capture it and the air fills your lungs once more, he lets go and steps back. You wretch yourself off the desk, wincing in pain and aching from the intrusion and uncomfortable positioning, but sick pleasure is still throbbing through your veins rushing with pulsing blood.

His desk is, respectfully, an utter fucking mess: immediate papers that have been spared the cum are crumpled or fluttered to the floor. Quills, ink bottles, and accessories are scattered everywhere, and micro inventions will probably need a tune-up.

"Here, clean yourself up." He offers out a clean handkerchief to you for wiping as he does himself with another cloth from a drawer. You try not to stare at his swollen balls and sizable cock deflating from its peak.

"Not bad for the first time, huh? Maybe we'll see what else you can do later."

Your mouth gapes openly and closes like a fish out of water, and then you drop the handkerchief, and he rushes forward as you stumble, off balance. You get your underwear up as he awkwardly tries to put his arms around you, but you hobble away from him in shame, legs like jelly. You bend over to grab hold of the waistband of your pants to hitch them back up too, but you fumble fruitlessly while he quickly gets his boxers up and then puts his own pants back in their proper place at his waist.

"Do you need help with that?" he asks patronizingly, and your face crimsons.

"I can do it," you reply like some determined kindergartener tying their shoes for only the second time.

But you're trembling so much from nerves and the after effect of being bent over the desk and orgasming that you cannot do so very successfully. He sighs dramatically and you hear him cross over to bend down on one knee in front of you, hands snatching the pants and pulling up. He secures them around your waist and then pats the front of your crotch with his large warm hand, which makes you almost topple over. If someone had told you last week you'd be in this position with your boss, the ruler of Oz, you'd laugh in their face.

How did this happen? How did the line of professionalism get so completely blurred and smudged? What made you so lucky? Or unlucky if this went south?

"See, that's not too hard, is it?" He smirks in satisfaction, moving up to smooth down the entirety of your uniform. His hands linger for too long, and you feel on the point of wishing to collapse on the spot and melt through the floor, pretending like none of this ever happened.

"You're speechless. I have that effect, don't I? Everyone says that, but I just don't see it. People expect it but then they don't know how to react when they are. Okay, this might be a bad analogy, but tell me, if you go to a burlesque or, uh, club as they call them here? Well, you expect to see a striptease, right? And by that assumption, one would think they'd be prepared to deal with a lap dance or something, right? They wouldn't not know what to do or feel or..." he rambles on, and you mumble incoherently and step backward, nervously running a hand through your hair. He stops, inhales, and rubs his chin thoughtfully.

"Gosh, you're kinda cute, I never noticed before. You know that don't you?"

You have no answer to give, there are simply no words. The Wizard turns to his desk with a distracted frown before back to you.

"Can't have the maids seeing this mess you made. Guess you're gonna have to clean that up yourself," he says, and you don't mention his desk was pretty darn cluttered to begin with. His whole office is a constant work in progress, a place for all his ideas (and this isn't even his workshop), and the fact that he chose this place to do such an inappropriate act is laughable. Internally you almost want to punch his stupidly dashing, smug entitled face even though he's absolutely right about the maids. But this was all his idea, after all!

"Here, I'll get rags," he offers quickly, perhaps reading your disgruntled expression and he moves to the door, opening and shutting it fast behind him with a click.

You can't look at the indecency of the desk, so you move away to peruse his collections, many books and knickknacks lining the shelves wrapping around the office. There are countless scrolls of schematics and at your feet, wooden crates full of sample bricks for the Yellow Brick Road construction. You start to swipe your fingers across the rough painted surface of them.

"Hey, don't touch any of that now!" his gruff voices barks from behind, startling you.

The Wizard's holding clean rags, and you immediately move to him, taking them and gingerly begin to clean. His fingers ghost over yours as you wipe his desk free of inappropriate fluids, guiding every move and it feels just sensual enough you can barely focus on the task. He wants it spotless, and you spritz the desktop with a bottle of some kind of cleanser, making the space smell like bright citrus. You reorganize the objects and papers back into a fairly organized setup and when you're all done, he takes away the soiled rags to dispose of. You wait patiently until he comes back, and when he does, your heart automatically sputters as he strides back into the office, clapping his hands together briskly.

"Well, back to work, amirite? And this time you'll certainly deliver the new letter I write with no issues? I'd hate to, uh, have to do this again... Right, gumdrop?" he asks with a wink and that devilish generous grin tells you nothing is ever going to be the same again between you two.

You've been changed for good.

[the-patchwork-girl-of-oz]

Watching Boq and Fiyero interact in wicked the musical is so funny and bizarre when you’ve read the original Oz novels, especially the sequels.

These two idiots are going to end up going on moving into a castle to rule winkie country together because they chose to never separate because being apart makes them so sad, they will separate only occasionally for the pleasure of meeting again, when they run out of things to talk about they will be fully content sitting in silence simply enjoying each other’s presence, they basically parent every child character, and on top of all of that they call each other “my dear”.

And they’re fighting over some lesbian.

Romantic rivals to romantic partners