#What's New in .NET 7

[aspiresoftware-consultancy]

What's New in .NET 7: Enhancements, Performance Boosts, and Migration Guide- Aspire Software Consultancy

Explore the exciting features and improvements in .NET 7, including LINQ enhancements, JIT compilation optimizations, Minimal APIs, and more. Learn how to migrate your ASP.NET 6 projects to leverage the power of .NET 7 for building modern and scalable applications. https://aspiresoftwareconsultancy.com/whats-new-in-.net-7-enhancements-performance-boosts-and-migration-guide

[freshthoughts2020]

[reasonsforhope]

"Twenty million trees will be planted and 2,500 hectares (6,178 acres) of new woodland created in the west of England as part of a "national forest" drive, the government has announced.

The Western Forest will be made up of new and existing woodlands across Gloucestershire, Wiltshire, Somerset, the Cotswolds and the Mendips as well as in urban areas such as Bristol, Swindon and Gloucester.

It will be the first of three new national forests promised by the government to help meet a legally-binding target of achieving 16.5% woodland cover in England by 2050.

However, with only 10% cover achieved so far, environmental groups have warned much more needs to be done to meet tree-planting targets.

The most recent research shows the total area of woodland across the whole of the UK is currently estimated to be 3.28m hectares.

That represents 13% of the total land area of the UK but in England just 10% is woodland.

Across the UK, the aim is for 30,000 hectares of woodland to be planted every year.

The latest annual figures show about 21,000 hectares were planted, with the vast majority in Scotland and just 5,500 hectares in England.

Andy Egan, head of conservation policy at the Woodland Trust, said there had been "significant progress" on tree planting but that there was still "much more to do" to meet the UK's targets.

He said maintaining government funding was essential.

"Successful tree planting and ongoing management needs long-term grant support," he said.

Alex Stone, chief executive of the Forest of Avon Trust, which leads the partnership behind the Western Forest project, said there were some areas in the region that currently had only 7% of land covered by trees.

"This is about bringing those areas up so we have trees where we really need them," she said.

"What we are aiming to do with the Western Forest is get to 20% of canopy cover by 2050 and, in five priority areas, we are looking at getting above 30%."

The scheme will particularly target urban areas, including Bristol, Swindon and Gloucester.

The government said it would be putting £7.5m of public money into the forest over the next five years.

It said the project would not only help the UK's drive to net zero but would also promote economic growth and create jobs in the region.

Mary Creagh, minister for nature, said she hoped the Western Forest would also "make a huge difference" to water quality, flood resilience and to wildlife as well as bringing nature "closer to people" in the region.

But she conceded there was much more to do in order to hit England's national tree-planting target.

"I am absolutely confident that we can get to where we need to get to," she said.

"Projects like this give me hope and confidence that, with everybody pulling together, working with the public sector and the private sector, we can do it." ...

The Western Forest is the first new national forest to be designated in England in 30 years, following the creation of the original National Forest across Leicestershire, Derbyshire and Staffordshire, where 9.8m trees have been planted."

-via BBC, March 20, 2025

[psychemochanight]

I was thinking about the last comics that came out, and... I have two thoughts that have nothing to do with each other, but I'm going to mix them up here anyway.

First, It makes perfect sense that Dick h has the blood type that can give the most, but receive the least. (Empathy: It means you give blood until there is nothing left to bleed).

A long time ago, I had read a fic where Bruce commented on this, actually. I don't remember the name because it wasn't from ao3, but I want to look it up again sometime.

Dick told Bruce that he wasn't his son (because he wasn't adopted), but when something happens, and Dick needs a blood transfusion, Bruce is the donor.

Clark and Bruce are talking, and Bruce tells Clark that there is only one person in the League who can donate blood to Dick... Bruce himself, since they both are O-

He tells Clark that Dick has more of his blood than John Grayson's running through his veins. That's his kid, his son.

Which brings me to my second thought, which is that Dick's parents, according to the new issue that came out, had him training 10 hours a day from the age of three.

A typical workday is usually 8 hours a day, and many adults find it tiresome.

Dick has been training 10 hours a day since he was 3 years old.

And he seems to think this is okay, or something to be proud of.

Also, there's another comic where Dick says he sometimes wishes he was just a kid, watching the show, not being part of it.

And it's terrifying to see how this is always overlooked, how his situation is romanticized. Like, there's talk that Bruce should have done better, that he shouldn't have let a kid take such risks, that if he loved him he wouldn't have let Dick be Robin...

What about his biological parents? Mary and John?

I firmly believe that his parents loved Dick, I really do. But I also think they are simply terrible parents.

Sure, at that time it was normal for children to work in circuses with their parents, for acrobats not to have safety equipment... But the Graysons were known for going further. For their extremely dangerous stunts.

And Dick trained that since he was 3 years old.

Even in the older comics, where it's not specified that he's been training since that age, even if it had been since he was 7 or 8, it's still horrible. He was a kid. He should have been among the children in the crowd, not up there risking his life.

Shit, his parents should have used a net just to have a chance of surviving, to live for their son.

Maybe the trapeze act was their way of showing love. Maybe it was all they knew. Maybe they just wanted to share their life with their son.

But still, Dick shouldn't have been exposed to that. What if he was the one who fell, not them? How would they live with it?

Also, what psychological consequences did Dick suffer? They are always attributed to Batman, but were they really due to his time with him?

Sure, being Robin meant doing your job well or dying... But being an acrobat did too.

Dick always lived with the thought that if he does something wrong, he will die, that someone he loves will die.

It's no wonder he's a perfectionist, as much of a "control freak" as Batman himself.

It would also explain many things, such as the type of response he has. When you face a dangerous life of constant stress, your body loses its ability to react normally to stress, even if it's because of small things like an exam or something even less important. Adrenaline is pumped anyway, because your body recognizes the situation as a survival situation... And it makes you addicted to adrenaline.

Damn, even his heart stopping in the last issue makes sense if we could connect the dots.

They're two totally separate things for two separate comics, I know. Just... Damn.

[mirroredmemoriez]

A collection of Amanda Young’s outfits (PT 1)

As the title states, this is just all the outfits I can source from Amanda Young from the franchise but also any game adaptation too. This will be broken into parts because of the image limit.

1.) The Reverse Bear Trap (RBT) outfit

One of her most iconic and recognisable fits. She has a purple tank top with matching sleeves to go alongside, presumably kept in place by the pink bands on her upper arms? Amanda in this wears a black skirt with ripped fish nets and kinda shiny boots- Other things include the eye makeup, nail polish and the only time we ever see her have the clawing panther tattoo on her shoulder.

2.) Rockstar outfit

I've generalised this as the ROCKSTAR outfit- Because this specific shirt comes up a few times, not just in that cut scene. It seems there is actually two shirts? The blue graphic one on top and a grey one underneath. Amanda's hair and jackets change! There is the light grey jacket and then the black one and even things like how heavy her makeup is are different... The main place we see this look is when she is setting up Adam for his game. Of course she has boots on as always and I guess I'd call the jeans she has on cuffed? One extra is she has a watch on.

3.) Junkie outfit

BECAUSE I WAS A FUCKING JUNKIE!!! Anyway, with this I had to brighten the image to see what the design on the tank top was... From there I went, ''I think I've seen this before...'' And yeah, I had- Shawnee Smith has worn this logo a few times, so that's why I've added the last two images for a clearer reference. Amanda here looks quite gaunt and sickly and we can't see the rest of this outfit such as trousers.

4.) Visitor outfit

I'll dub this the Visitor outfit because of the badge of course- I would say this likely is Amanda's most simple outfit? Black shirt and skirt. The most striking thing about this look is the RBT scars she has... It's also one of the only times outside of Saw 3 we see Amanda with a ponytail! I can't lie when looking at her hair here, it almost looks two toned in places such as the side burns? Almost grey in parts? (Edit: This may be a dress actually.)

5.) The Red Pig outfit

This is my personal favourite when it comes to her in movie pig looks. She has a red coat/cloak which the length goes all the way down to her boots- Looking there I think the lower half from seeing the cuffed like jeans is probably the exact same as her Rockstar outfit. Her eye makeup is heavily smudged and the mask itself in my opinion is one of the best shaped pig masks, with what seems to be ''blood'' coming out of the eye sockets and black slash brunette hair.

6.) Bow Dress/Clinic outfit

This scene and the follow up is so depressing but she's so cutesy here- It's a simple black dress, but the bow is very Amanda. I have no clue whether the shoes she has on in the first image are actually apart of the outfit or just something Shawnee had on whilst testing it out. 7.) News Report/Scott Tibbs outfit

May be my overall favourite Amanda outfit.... She has on a grey hoodie jacket, possibly another article of clothing from her Rockstar outfit? Her iconic skull sweatpants with a belt and then boots that I would say are more akin to her RBT outfit. I can't really tell if the shirt she has got on is layers or just has different materials- Amanda's RBT scars are also very visible in this look.

8.) Suffocation outfit

At first I started doing these as two separate outfits? One for when she kills Adam, the other for when she wakes up from her nightmare- However, I'm pretty sure this is the same outfit through and through. Amanda has on a long sleeved orange shirt with a grey tanktop over it. The jacket is leather with noticeable silver studs and she has on cargo type trousers and as always... Boots.

9.) Nightmare outfit

Another personal favourite! Once again we get to see the skull pants and this is how I was able to gage the material a bit better. I honestly have no clue how to describe the specific items of clothing she has on her upper half? A corset type shirt going on? Details I enjoy are the safety pins around the shoulder and bottom half and she has a watch on.

10.) Saw X outfit

I decided to not have this pig look separate. Anyway! This is Amanda's most recent outfit with Saw X having come out in 2023.... Simple grey t-shirt alongside cargo trousers with a belt. The boots she's got on are very combat/work like and Amanda also has a black choker and earrings here- Her coat/cloak is black with red detailing such as the cuffs and the inner lining.

[screwitbaby]

naive

hamzahthefantastic x reader

day 6/7

summary: part 6 of the naive series!! mandy and martin get back together in the worst way possible but it’s okay because you and hamzah get to have some fun of your own…

contains: SFW and NSFW content ;-)

w/c: 2.8k-ish

~

It's awkward. You know that. Hamzah knows that. The mosquito buzzing by your ear knows that. You only hope Mandy knows that she scarred you for life.

"In my defense, I thought you would come back a lot later," she says.

You stare at her blankly. Martin hasn't made eye contact with you since last night. Hamzah's sat next to you, completely checked out of the conversation and scrolling on his phone. If you could click your heels three times and teleport home, you would.

"So you could fuck in my bed for several more hours?" you seethe.

"It's a hotel bed! It's not even yours!" Martin argues.

"It's a bed that I was supposed to sleep in!" You feel like you're about to pop a blood vessel. "Why didn't you just do it in your suite?!"

"It was a spur of the moment thing," Mandy says, walking over to sit next to you. "We were just going to talk. I didn't plan for it!"

Hamzah looks up from his phone and raises his eyebrows at the familiar words. You roll your eyes and turn to Mandy before he can see the red rush to your face.

"But hey, we aren't fighting anymore," Martin points out, scooping more sand over his pale chest.

He's been working on burying himself in the sand for the past hour since you and Hamzah joined them on the beach. You're grateful for that fact.

After being unpleasantly surprised by the sight of him in his birthday suit upon entering your hotel room, even a single glance at his body reminds you of the unholy vision. You and Hamzah had returned from your day on the town after eating out (ahem) and wanted a peaceful place to recover from your food comas. The couple seemed to have other ideas. You did a 180 and left without a single word.

"I don't even know what to say to you right now," you tell Martin without looking in his direction. "Mandy, why? Just why?"

"I'm sorry," she says, but there's a smile on her face that makes you scowl. "It's a little funny!"

"No, it's not!" you cry out. "Every time I shut my eyes I get a flashback to Martin's pasty asscheeks!"

"Hey!" Martin shouts. "Mandy loves these pasty a—"

"Shut up," you and Mandy say at the same time, albeit your tone is a little more hostile.

"At least you get to sleep in Hamzah's room from now on," Mandy whispers to you. You pinch her and she squeals. "I basically did you a favor!"

"You only have to do me a favor because you did some shit in the first place!"

"Guys, calm down," Hamzah says, waving his hand between you and Mandy, "we'll just get the sheets changed. It's not that big of a deal."

"So you're on their side?" you question him.

"Oh my god," Martin groans.

"Okay, if you're that disgusted, we'll get you a new room," Hamzah offers.

"They're all booked for the season," you grumble. "I checked last night after... the incident."

"And there's no way I'd pay for that," Martin says. You glare at the side of his head.

"When I said 'make up and make out' I didn't mean it literally," you tell Mandy. "I can't believe this."

"So dramatic," Hamzah teases. "C'mere."

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and even though you're upset, you don't move away. It helps you to cool off, but you can't stop your brain from wishing the clouds would part and smite the couple down in that moment. You lean closer into Hamzah's embrace and take a sip of your cocktail, avoiding Mandy's inquisitive stare.

You don't even know why you're so distressed by this whole thing, it should be a net positive that Mandy and Martin made amends. Plus, you had such a great time prior to the event, you shouldn't let it ruin your mood. It really isn't as big of a deal as you're making it out to be. Something about it rubs you the wrong way, though.

"Okay, I have one last question." Your words make the group groan and you shush them. "If I didn't walk in on you, were you going to tell me about my bed?"

The couple's silence speaks volumes.

"You fucking freaks!" you nearly scream. Hamzah flinches away from your voice and coughs into his fist to poorly disguise his laughter. "Ew! Ew-uh! What the fuck!?"

"We didn't even think that far," Mandy laughs out, "I'm sorry!"

"I hate you."

Since there isn't much to do on the beach but lie around and day drink with the two people you currently despise most, you and Hamzah decide on going someplace else. Nearing the end of a trip is usually draining, but with him it's like every minute counts for something more and that gives you the strength to push through your desire for self-isolation.

"We could get frozen yogurt?"

You shake your head.

"Go to an aquarium?"

You shake your head again.

"Do our laundry?"

"For real?" You scrunch your face in disapproval.

"I don't know what you want from me," Hamzah says, squeezing your hand tighter. "We're in a foreign place and we're bored as hell. You try to give me some ideas."

As you walk further up the street, swinging your hand in his, you spot an interesting store in your peripheral vision.

"Hamzah," you say, pointing. "We need to go."

He looks up and scoffs. "Are you 12? We're not going in there."

"Why would a 12-year-old be in a sex shop?" you joke and pull him along. "It'll be goofy and silly. Please."

"This is so stupid," he says, but ultimately obliges.

The two of you walk in and are instantly greeted by a wall of monstrous dildos. You bite your lip to not laugh out loud at Hamzah's disgruntled reaction and drag him over to an idle worker, all while he's quietly protesting your mischief.

"Please don't," he mumbles, much too late.

"Hi," you greet the worker cheerily. "My boyfriend and I would like to know some of your recommendations for starter toys."

Hamzah blushes beet red and you grin deviously.

"Sure, follow me," she replies, leading you to the back of the store.

You feast your eyes on the seemingly never-ending array of degeneracy. It reminds you of walking into the back of a Spencer's when you were in middle school, only so much more serious. This is top notch stuff. You find yourself actually becoming intrigued.

"Here we have our bestseller," the worker says, taking a toy from the shelf and presenting it to you. "This is a bullet vibrator. Great for travel."

You hum, nodding your head. Hamzah's hand is a dead weight in yours as he looks between the ceiling or his shoes, avoiding eye contact with the multitude of phalluses surrounding him.

"This here is another great pick," she says, showing you a glass dildo. "Simple, but satisfying. Comes with your choice in any of our flavored lubes."

"Ooh," you exaggerate. Hamzah makes a grunting noise and it takes all of you to keep from bursting out laughing. "Do you have anything that's more for... him?"

"Ah, yes, of course."

The worker turns to unlock a display case in the corner and brings a little rubber toy out. Hamzah rubs his eyes like he's trying to awaken from a nightmare.

"This is very popular with the tourists," she says, handing it over to you. "Press this button."

You do as she says and the cock ring not only lights up, but also starts wriggling in your hand. It tickles your palm and you giggle, reaching over to press it to Hamzah's arm to catch his attention. He jumps as if he's shocked by an electric current.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes to the worker, pinching the toy between his fingers and hastily dropping it back in the display. "I just realized I'm perfectly capable of pleasing my girlfriend on my own. Goodbye."

With that, he tugs on your hand and nearly sprints to the exit. You cackle while he makes you cross the street to get as far from the store as possible.

"It could've been worse," you tell Hamzah as he slides the key card to his door. "She didn't even get to the sex swings."

"Please shut up," he says, tired of your bullshit.

He still holds the door open for you, even though you've been messing with him all day. You walk into the room and place your shopping bags down. You had convinced Hamzah to window-shop after your little stunt, but you couldn't help yourself. You ended up buying some knickknacks and cute postcards for your family and friends back home.

"Do you mind if I take a shower in here?" you ask him, taking your shoes off.

"You're really not going back to your room?"

"You wanna get rid of me that fast?" You dramatically fall back on his bed. "I thought what we had was special."

Hamzah walks over to you and holds himself above you at arms length.

"I didn't exactly agree to the whole 'boyfriend' thing," he quips.

You pull him forward by his collar and smile. "Then why'd you call me your girlfriend?"

His eyes hone in on your lips. "I was just playing along."

"Really?" you question, placing your hand on his cheek. "And how far are you willing to play along for?"

You move up and capture his lips in a kiss. He responds eagerly, like you knew he would. His hand grips your waist and you quietly moan into the kiss, trying to rile him up. He takes the bait, pressing his body to yours and pulling the both of you further up the bed. When your head comes in contact with the pillows, you roll him over and sit in his lap to grind your hips. He tries to touch you and you stop him, holding him down by his arms. He could easily overpower you, but he stays pinned down, staring up at you with his big doe eyes.

"I don't think people who aren't really girlfriend-boyfriend should do this kind of thing..." you trail off.

You climb off the bed and walk straight to the bathroom, tossing your shirt off before closing the door behind you. You hear some shuffling outside as you strip and step under the shower head. You begin to lather some hotel body wash in your hands right when the door opens. Through the fogged glass, you see Hamzah taking his clothes off, but you pretend not to take notice as you rub the suds all over your body.

Hamzah steps into the shower behind you. You close your eyes to step under the shower head and wash the soap off, still paying him no attention. When you bend over to grab the shampoo, you feel his hands trail up your thighs and settle on your hips.

You turn with the bottle in your hands. "Do you mind?"

"Nope," he says.

He takes the bottle from you and pours some into his palm before placing it back. You watch his face as he reaches up to massage your scalp with the shampoo. He's concentrating hard, but the contact is gentle as he takes extra care of not tangling your hair. It's cute, but it would be cuter if you didn't feel him growing against your thigh.

"Does shampooing usually give you a boner?" you ask.

"Yeah, always," he replies sarcastically.

You giggle and close your eyes, enjoying the salon experience. When he's done, he moves you under the water and dips your head back to rinse your hair. You switch places with him after teaching him how to apply conditioner and grab the body wash again, but for him this time. He sighs as you massage his shoulders with the soap and you spread the rest down his torso. Your hands trace the curvature of his pecs and waist, taking a little too much time with each section just to feel him. When your touch begin to descend, he places his hands on your hips and pulls you forward. You sharply inhale as his dick prods your lower belly.

He leans in to kiss you, making you completely forget about your task and wrap your arms around his shoulders. His tongue finds yours and you feverishly return his advances, running your fingers through his soaked curls to smooth them out of his face. When his hand reaches down your back to cup your ass, you moan and lift your leg to wrap it around his hip. His other hand does the same and he carries you to push you against the shower wall. His erection nudges your center and you thrust forward, desperate for any friction. He teases his tip through your folds and against your clit.

"Be my girlfriend," Hamzah whispers, in between leaving open mouthed kisses on your décolletage.

You toss your head to the side, too overwhelmed to even respond. He continues his actions, feeding off your pleasure. You grip the back of his neck and bring his mouth back to yours.

"Be my boyfriend," you mumble against his lips.

You reach between your slick bodies and pump his shaft a few times, your foreheads pressed together as you watch his eyelids flutter from the sensation. Lining him up, you feel him gradually enter you. Both of you breathe heavily and as soon as you get used to his size, you buck your hips. Moans fall from your lips like water droplets, echoing against the bathroom tiles as he begins to thrust into you faster and faster. You clutch his shoulders and he buries his face in your neck, his groans vibrating against your wet skin.

Letting go of one of your legs, Hamzah kneads your tit, pinching your nipple then soothing it with the pad of his thumb. You whimper and stand on your tippy toes as he pounds into you, trying your best not to buckle from the feeling. His lips suck on the side of your throat, sure to leave marks in the places he lingers. You dig your heel into his lower back, wanting—no, needing to feel all of him.

When you start clenching around him, he glides his hand down your front and rubs circles on your clit. You gasp out breaths, digging your nails into his back.

"Feel good, baby?" he pants in your ear, his hips crashing into yours with each word. "Tell me."

"Yes, Hamzah, yes," you sob. "Harder, please!"

He complies, the wet slapping getting louder between you. Your eyes screw shut as white heat fills your veins from your head to your toes and all you can do is moan haphazardly. He's in a similar state, his voice breaking as curses fly from his lips. He fucks you through your climax, holding out as long as he can while he flicks his hand relentlessly. Once you’re completely spent, he pulls out with a groan and cums all over your stomach and thighs. You raise a trembling hand to stroke him until he finishes and his moans steadily fade out.

Your chests rise and fall as you attempt to catch your breaths. Hamzah lightly kisses up your neck, still holding you against the wall as the both of you recover. You bring your other leg back down to the ground and lean your weight on him.

Pushing him under the shower head, you watch the way his curls slowly shrink back into place.

“Shampoo,” you breathe out.

Hamzah hands you the bottle and watches as you return the favor for him.

“Put your head down, please,” you request. “I’m too shaky.”

He laughs silently but does as you say. Your fingernails graze his scalp and he makes little noises of approval.

“Body wash me,” you say.

“Do I have to?”

“Yeah.” You bring his head up to make eye contact. “Boyfriend-ly duties.”

The two of you leave the shower after a couple more minutes of teasing and fondling. Hamzah wraps a towel around you and you plug the blow dryer in as he grabs one for himself. He’s about to leave the bathroom when you call him back.

“C’mon,” you say, beckoning him to the mirror. “You don’t style your hair?”

You grab a tiny dollop of conditioner and run it through his curls.

“I usually just let it air dry.”

“That’s fine, but you should always moisturize.”

“Every time?” he asks like it’s an unfathomable chore.

“From now on, yeah.” You scrunch some of the strands. “Can’t have my boyfriend looking crazy.”

“You’re really loving that title, huh?” he teases.

“Am I not supposed to?” you ask, washing your hands in the sink and looking at him through the steamy mirror. “If I knew how simple it was to get that title, I would’ve fucked you a lot sooner.”

Hamzah chokes on his spit.

~

a/n: i realize this whole chapter was basically abt sex and yk what i don’t even mind it. how we feeling abt there being one part left? what do yall think is gonna happen omggggg🙈 also should i do an epilogue or just stick with 7 being the ending? lmk!!!! love yall as per usual<333

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

A fun little add on to this blurb. Not proofread.

—

“I’m Spider-Man.”

“…ha…ah ha…” Miguel couldn't help but let out a huff at your delirious sounding laugh. “Miguel this isn’t the time for silly-haha-jokes, our daughter is on the ceiling! Oh my god, I’m so glad my parents aren’t home…”

“Babe-babe calm down, you're rambling.”

“Don’t babe me, we’re not dating anymore!”

“Our baby is on the ceiling, me calling you babe shouldn’t be your biggest concern right now.”

“It’s the principle of it! Look, can you just hurry up and get here, so I can figure out what to do with…gabi…” Your words died as you glanced over to your window, eyes wide as the moon as your phone slipped out of your hand, landing on your bedroom carpet.

You felt like you were dreaming. The same blue and red suit that was always plastered on the living room tv, was now crawling in through your window. A surprised gasp left your lips as you watched the masked man shoot a few neon red webs in order to make a makeshift safety net underneath your upside down daughter. Let out a yelp as she grabbed onto the net and began to make her way down. Her little giggled filled the room as she ascended down the webbing like, well, a spider.

“Look at that, she's a natural.” Miguel mumbled, pulling his mask off from his head “Just like her dad…” If you didn’t believe Miguel’s claims before, you certainly did now.

“I need to sit down…” You stumbled backwards till your knees hit the back of your bed, one hand flying to your chest in an attempt to help calm the rapid pounding against your ribcage while the other grips your comforter to help stabilize yourself.

“Oh god, don’t go into shock….” Miguel mumbled jokingly, though the genuine undertone of concern was still prevalent. He grabs Gabriella as soon as she was in arms reach, before moving to kneel in front of where you were sitting. His free hand carefully comes down to rest of your knee, as if attempting to reassure you that he was real. Almost flinching it away when you let out a small squeal. “Babe?”

“This is real?” You asked, being met with a hum and a nod. “You’re…you’re Spider-Man. My ex is Spider-Man.” Another nod, “And my baby-who I had with Spider-Man-has powers?”

There was a pause, Miguel watching as you began to slowly process the life altering information you had just discovered within the hour. Before you turned towards your ex-boyfriend, with a new look in your eye.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me before you got me pregnant!?”

“Well-in my defense-I didn’t think our baby would come out with powers-“ Miguel put the hand that wasn’t holding your toddler up in defense. Going to stand up as you go off the bed, your glare intensifying.

“You study genetics!”

“Well-“ You let out a huff as he trailed off, knowing he didn’t have a way to justify his lack of communication about the subject. Slightly shaky hands going to rub your temples to help with the oncoming headache.

“…How long?” You asked after a beat, voice softer as you finally composed yourself. Hands tucking into your arms as you crossed them. Migue let out a heavy sigh as Gabriella decided she no longer wanted to be held, wiggling around under he put her down.

“Not too long…” He muttered, trying to beat around the brush. You knew he was bluffing too, he’s been Spider-Man for at least a few months before Gabriella was born, since you two had split up when she was around six months. She was a year now.

“Miguel.”

“Fine! A year and 7 months!” He confessed, making you scoff in disbelief. Eyes widening even more than you thought they could.

“And you didn’t tell me?!”

“I didn’t want you to see me as some freak!” His declaration makes your scolding words die in your throat. Anger dimensioning as soon as those words left his lips.

Some freak? Did he really think you’d ever think of him like that? Your hand falls over your face as you let out a heavy sigh.

“Miguel, I saw you finish your double bacon cheeseburger on our first date in two bites… if I can look past that I can be a bit understanding of this whole…situationship.” You motioned to the web filled room. “I just wished you told me before you got me pregnant.”

“Fair…” He mumbled

“Because now I’ll have to figure out how to keep Gabriella off the walls, I just finished baby proofing the house too.” Miguel couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle, despite this word altering news, you still found a way to put your daughter first.

“I mean… you could move back in… wall crawling adult to grab the wall crawling baby.” He might as well give it a shot while he’s at it right?

“No, Miguel.” You laughed, picking up Gabriella as she crawled towards you, fixing the little tufts of hair on her head “Good try through.”

“Can’t blame a man for trying…” He muttered as he began to clean up his webs.

—

Writing skills are rusty lol hopefully this is okay :3

Taglist: @ladysimp @juneonhoth @Tatatida @auro-a (join taglist)

[orimuraa]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Off my face - Nishimura Riki Smau

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆transferring from japan to a korean school comes with many struggles, but one sweet boy made it all worth while. so what happens when you accidentally catch feelings for each other? ⨾

۶ৎ nishimura riki x fem!reader ┆student au┆strangers to friends to lovers┆he fell first and he fell harder┆angst if you squint, fluff, crack┆swearing┆featuring: enhypen, ningning from aespa, soul from p1harmony, felix and lee know from stray kids, rei and yujin from ive, more to come...

kang haerin as face claim !! i know haerin isnt japanese but its just for the purpose of the smau

start date: Dec 15, 2024 end date: Jan 28, 2025

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first smau!!! i promise, ill try and update this as consistently as i can. please note that i might use kys/kms jokes and some suggestive jokes so please dont read this if you are sensitive to that type of content. enjoy!

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

Profiles: duolingo victims┆we love jake's mom

chapter 1: new girl chapter 2: why do you like toes? chapter 3: cute boy chapter 4: she called me cute?! chapter 5: refrigerator door chapter 6: personal translator chapter 7: i think i like him chapter 8: practically in love chapter 9: operation ynki is a success!!!

fin!

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

send an ask or comment to be tagged for chapters ^^

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

what do you think the third years would be like 10 years from now?

What comes after Ever After?

You’re looking at the new buff baker that helps man the Clover Patisserie. He’s beloved by the local housewives and school girls— His parents are getting up there in age, so Trey has taken up a bulk of the responsibilities: ordering supplies, prepping ingredients, baking, stocking, and customer service.

After hours, Trey experiments with new recipes and leftover ingredients. Sometimes he comes up with some truly awful inventions, but other times they end up working out really well. Who knew that adding oyster sauce would enhance the flavor of this bread? He calls these the “Clover Specials, Piping Hot and Fresh Off the Trey” (yes, that was a pun).

He tries to make the bakery more whimsical for the customers. Little seasonal decorations, cute little doodles on the placards that indicate what each item is, a sign that reminds folks to brush well after eating sweets, etc. (Trey claims he doesn't really care for little flourishes like this; it might just be the nostalgia of the unbirthday party days getting to him.)

If there are things that haven’t sold at the end of the day, he’ll offer them for a discount in a blind box style. You’ll never know what you’ll pull, but it’s always delicious, if not a little stale or slightly lumpy looking. Waste not, what not!

Every so often, he has nights out with his childhood friends Chenya and Riddle. Trey's responsible for bringing the snacks (he uses his friends as a test audience for his experiments), and the three spend that time drinking, sharing stories, and catching up on each others' lives.

Cater’s a social media manager and agent for various influencers. His career allows him to basically work from anywhere (which is convenient because he travels to various promotional events) and to be on his phone 24/7, monitoring stats, attending strategy meetings, and coordinating with PR teams.

Keeps up with the latest trends! He's not one of those "how do you do, fellow kids?" types though. Cater is genuinely on top of what's cool--so much so that he's sometimes contacted as a style consultant. It feels like he's got his hands in many facets of the entertainment industry.

He regularly sees a therapist (although he doesn't let any of his friends or family know) to talk through his insecurities and other darker thoughts. It's really been helping him sort out these complex emotions he's been sitting and stewing in for the longest time. He's hoping that, someday, he can reach the point where he can open up to everyone about this other side of himself.

Every now and again, the thought to text an old NRC classmate strikes him--but something keeps Cater back. Doubt, apprehension. The worst that can happen is being left on read, but to Cater the consequences feel so much worse than that. It's a huge relief to him when he gets a text out of the blue from Trey one day--an excuse to text back, to make that connection. Though it's still difficult for Cater to gather the courage to initiate another conversation, this is still a foot in the door for him, the potential start of something new.

Cater still has the Magicam accounts of his school mates. He'll sort of like... cyberstalk their pages just to keep up with their lives, to feel a sense of closeness with the people he failed to reach out to during his NRC days. When he stops to reflect on it, he really regrets his inaction--and, on some nights, he scrolls and scrolls until the dread and the loneliness lulls him into a comfortable, dreamless sleep.

It took a lot of resistance and arguing, but--much to the delight of Kifaji and his family members--Leona has (begrudgingly) taken on the role of a royal advisor to support Sunset Savanna. There were of course some growing pains, especially with Leona's callous and arrogant attitude clashing with those of the other (older, much more conservative) advisors--but for the most part, it's been a net positive.

His focus is on improving infrastructure while also conserving as much of the environment as they can. The knowledge and experience he has gained from his 4th year internship comes in handy here, and thankfully they've been able to take small but steady steps to modernize the country.

In addition to improving infrastructure, Leona has made efforts to strengthen the Sunset Savanna's soft power. He has established new schools and food banks, particularly in impoverished areas, and started magift/spelldrive teams. This has made him popular with certain groups, such as the hyena beastmen and children.

Leona loathes putting on airs, but it's a necessity when facing the public so he manages. Unfortunately, he's still in the habit of skipping meetings and ceremonies he deems unnecessary or a waste of his time, which earns him pockets of ire. He usually just shoots back with, "Yeah? So what? I'm still gettin' results, ain't I?"

Political demands? Not a problem for him. But family? That's the real pain in his tail. Cheka, now an energetic 15-year old, has not let up on bothering him one bit. Then there's also the affectionate Falena, who is trying to desperately reconnect with his estranged brother. Leona just tosses out the excuse of "being busy" to dodge the both of them.

Vil continues to be an A-list celebrity and triple threat--actor, model, and influencer. He has racked up several more leading roles since his school days, including non-traditional bad guys. Vil has been an anti-villain and sympathetic villain.

Having aged like fine wine, he was able to play the character of a father too, just like how he dreamed of as a third-year student. When Vil got the call about the role, he excitedly told his own dad about it, who was so ecstatic and joked that Vil "takes after his old man". They went out for a little father-son bonding time to celebrate, dining at a high-class establishment and having a toast to Vil's future.

It was a Big Deal when Vil was offered his first-ever hero role. Social media and news outlets were popping off about it, and Vil himself was so excited he actually squealed. To this day he still considers it a turning point in his career and one of the most fun characters he ever played. Since then, he's been getting much more diverse roles, which has really opened up the door for him to expand his skills.

Vil is also a business owner now, having several brands under him. A skincare brand, a clothing brand, a makeup brand… Despite them being celebrity owned, the products are actually high quality (Vil won’t sign his name off on subpar products) and very popular, particularly whenever his face is plastered on the marketing campaigns.

These days, he allows himself to be a little less guarded with his front-facing persona. Vil still comes off as cool and regal, but notably laughs more, smiles more, even giggles more. He has a bit of a youthful sparkle to him and talks openly about his own struggles, fears, hopes, and dreams. Fans praise him for being so much more "relatable" and honest.

Rook claims that he is a globe-trotting archeologist now, but you get the feeling that he’s not telling the full truth. What kind of archeologist carries around a belt of weirdly invasive tools on it? Are those teeny-tiny listening devices? And why is his camera (which he says is strictly for his photography hobby) loaded with shots of suspicious characters taken from a distance?

He shares all kinds of crazy stories, like about the time he swung from a vine with a family of gorillas or how he discovered a lever that revealed a roller coaster to a secret underground laboratory. “Um, are those the kinds of things an archaeologist does…?” you ask him. Rook just smiles and laughs, but doesn’t provide a clear answer.

His stealth and marksman skills have developed to a scary degree. You sometimes forget that Rook is even standing beside you, and you've witnessed him kill bugs with frightening precision with nothing more than his gloved fingers. He brushes it off as abilities he sharpened "on the job".

... In any case, whatever Rook's actual occupation is, it requires a lot of travel. He lavishes his friends with souvenirs and post cards of the loveliest sights, then babbles on and on about local attractions, culture, art, and charming hole-in-the-wall destinations. It seems like he has accumulated a lot of knowledge about Twisted Wonderland in the 10 years since you've last seen him, and he's all too eager to blab about it all.

He's become an artist, although he operates under a pen name. You'll find paintings, sculptures, or collages he has assembled in various small exhibitions, and poetry he has penned where you least expect it. Rook puts his talent out in hopes of beautifying the world.

Idia has succeeded his father as the Director of S.T.Y.X. There’s a lot riding on his shoulders, but the pressure surprisingly never really gets to him. He’s cooler, more methodical now—almost as though he were a machine himself, set so clearly on his task that he won’t budge until it is completed first. (He worries that he has become just like his downer dad 💀)

Sometimes he spirals and his nerves get the best of him. In those cases, he has to resort to the text to speech device he invented back at NRC to get through his meetings. The staff at S.T.Y.X. get used to it and are largely alright with it.

He has the habit of snacking on the job. There's chip crumbs and gummy worms scattered on his desk, which is already messy enough with important documents. (He complains that this should all be digitalized anyway!) Idia keeps even more snacks in his pockets, munching on them whenever he’s annoyed or needs to give himself something to do.

The dark circles under his eyes get way worse. With work eating up so much of his day, Idia has less free time to games and other hobbies. That just means he ends up staying up super late into the night to catch up on his dailies and to grind out events, read manga, watch anime, etc. (“Sleep is for the weak!” he insists.) It’s a miracle he can still get up in the mornings to clock in for his next shift!

Shockingly, Idia takes breaks to go outside and touch grass soak up some (artificial) sunshine. He has learned from past experience that being locked up indoors all the time isn't exactly healthy. That, and his Chief of Cybersecurity (Ortho) pesters him to put himself out there more! Sometimes Idia even awkwardly tries to converse with his coworkers around the water cooler, though that's never quite as relaxing as him just chilling by himself in some quiet corner of the Island of Woe.

Make way for the reigning king of Briar Valley! Maleficia has finally retired, passing on her title to her grandson Malleus. There was a coronation ceremony (now recognized as the holiday or Ascension in Briar Valley), which you were of course invited to as a guest. You had a seat up front and were one of the first to congratulate him right after he was officially crowned.

As a relatively young king, Malleus isn’t the perfect ruler right away. Learning about ruling is nothing close to actually ruling. He stumbles and has to adjust to the role and, most of all, he has to balance the conservative values of his country and his people with the ever-changing lands beyond his home. Not an easy task, especially when he has only just gotten used to the concept of change himself—but with the support of his like-minded retainers, Malleus knows he isn’t alone in his endeavors for a brighter tomorrow.

His power also poses another challenge. Malleus is so used to solving his issues by casting a spell or terrifying his opposition into backing down. He’s no longer in a position to do such things or to let his emotions run wild, lest he risk tearing apart his own court and driving a wedge between the valley and other countries. A leash on his temper, a regal demeanor—this is how a mature adult presents himself. The anger only truly comes out when his people are in danger or he is deeply insulted.

His top priority once he is in power is restoring the bonds that were put in jeopardy on account of his… “oopsie” in his third year at NRC. There’s still lingering distrust between him and other nations due to that incident, so Malleus makes it clear that he’s apologetic and willing to come to the table for discussion, should other countries wish. His schedule is jam-packed with meetings with foreign dignitaries.

Massive and sweeping reform is not happening—not anytime soon. No opening of the borders, no sudden introduction of new technology. There would be massive outcry and resistance from the public + senators, not to mention that Malleus himself isn’t entirely comfortable yet with the concept. However, he has put together incremental proposals and tries convince others of the benefits, implanting the seeds in the minds of the people. He’s also supportive of initiatives which promote learning and cultural exchange, such as the import of reading materials from overseas (Sebek’s idea) and has even appointed Silver as Briar Valley’s very first human ambassador.

Lilia has comfortably retired to the Land of Crimson Long. He lives in a little hut far removed from civilization, but he ventures out into the town to pick up the essentials and to play board games with the local retirees. For the most part, it’s just Lilia and the wilderness! ... Which has led to rumors of a monster haunting the forest. This, Lilia entertains in by dropping down from the trees and frightening any hooligans who come close to his territory.

Though his magical abilities have been in decline, he does his best to stay active and in shape! Lilia once snuck into a nearby military camp, disguising himself as one of the new recruits, and partook in their training with them! He even stopped to lend extra help to the recruits who seemed to be struggling the most--though he still came first place in all of their exercises and holds the record time for climbing to the top of a pole to retrieve the arrow there.

He delights in partaking in the local customs and cuisine. Lilia loves to travel to shrines and admire the temples built to honor ancestors. He lights up some incense and joins others in prayer, knowing that he, too, will one day be among the dead. Best to pay respects now! Lilia has also taken to several cups of tea (as recommended by his doctor) with his meals, and has rice porridge with sunnyside egg eyes and bacon smiles whenever he needs something comforting.

Lilia of course keeps in touch with his loved ones! He's still gaming with his online companion Gloomurai and texts his Diasomnia boys all the time. Lilia also sends cards for special occasions, putting much love and care into his notes and the pictures + souvenirs he attaches to them.

His whole face lights up when his friends are able to make the time to pay him a visit. Lilia makes a big show of it, insisting to arrange a big feast or to play a tune for them—oh, and how about a fireworks show?! But his guests just tell him to sit down and take it easy while they take care of everything for him. It’s his turn to be doted on!

[bitchesgetriches]

Everything You Need To Know About Taxes

How to pay your taxes

HERE IT IS: our official primer on how to file your tax return, updated annually as the laws change. If you’re just a wee baby taxpayer who has never gone through the process before, start here:

How to File Your Taxes FOR FREE in 2025: Simple Instructions for the Stressed-out Taxpayer 

And for those of you advanced enough to have fucked up your taxes at least once in your lifetime… congrats and welcome to the club! We’re all very cool here and also based—which my nieces tell me is a word I’m never allowed to use!

Here’s our advice on how to troubleshoot a tax fuck-up:

Go Ahead and File Your Taxes Right Freakin’ Now

Screw Up Your Taxes? Here’s How To Get Out of Paying Tax Penalties

My Taxes Are a Little, uh, Creative. What’s My Risk of Being Audited? 

Would You Rather Owe Taxes or Get a Tax Refund This April? The Answer Might Surprise You!

Taxes: Your Annual Fee for Membership in Civilization 

I got 1099 problems but this Bitch ain’t one

We know a large portion of our readership are not full-time salaried workers. So for all of our beloved freelancers, contractors, part-timers, and service industry professionals, we’ve got some supplemental reading for you:

11 Awful Mistakes I Made as a Self-employed Freelancer, and How You Can Avoid Them

“Independent Contractor” My Ass: How to Stop Wage Theft Through Worker Misclassification

Season 4, Episode 5: “401(k)s Aren’t Offered in My Industry. How Do I Save for Retirement if My Employer Won’t Help?”

Ask the Bitches: My Boss Won’t Give Me a Contract and I’m Freaking Out

Investing Deathmatch: Traditional IRA vs. Roth IRA

Barbara Sloan’s New Book Dares To Suggest Service Industry Professionals Deserve Financial Stability Too 

Taxes and relationships

No matter what your situationship, it will affect how you handle your taxes. Here’s what I mean:

How To Get Married: Bureaucracy, Finances, and Legal Paperwork To Do Before “I Do” 

Season 3, Episode 8: “Should I Get Married for Tax Purposes? My Boyfriend Swears We’d Save Money, but I’m Not So Sure…” 

Season 4, Episode 2: “We’re Moving in Together but Don’t Plan To Get Married. How Can We Split Finances Fairly?”

A Guide to Sharing Finances with Someone Other Than a Romantic Partner

Raise your hand if you’ve been personally victimized by taxes

I know you’ll all be shocked by this, but… the Tax Man does not fuck over all of us equally! Sometimes He fucks over specific kinds of people particularly hard… with a pineapple! Read on to learn more.

How To Protect Yourself Against Project 2025 

The Social Safety Net for Disabled People Is Broken

Unmarried? In THIS Economy? 7 Ways Our Society Financially Punishes Single People

Season 4, Episode 8: “I’m Queer, and Want To Find an Affordable Place To Retire. How Do I Balance Safety With Cost of Living?”

Dafuq Is Unemployment Insurance and How Do I Apply for It?

Pay it forward

Everything I linked above is available to you for free. We worked long and hard to make it for you, and while we absolutely consider it a labor of love… it’s still labor. So if you’d like to show your appreciation for that labor, pay it (and by “it” I mean a tiny portion of your tax return) forward by donating to our Patreon or our PayPal to we can continue to do what we do here.

Join the Bitches on Patreon

Toss a coin to your Bitches on PayPal

[digi-lov]

—Digimon Fields—

Digimon are sorted into "Fields" based on their physiology, habitat or powers. Many Digimon have been associated with more than one Field accross time and different media.

Fields were first introduced to the franchise through the orignal Pendulum v-pet series starting 1998 and the original Card Game (AKA Hyper Colosseum) in starting 1999. The Pendulums versions 1-5 were Nature Spirits, Deep Savers, Nightmare Soldiers, and Metal Empire, with the addition of Pendulum ZERO, Virus Busters. In Hyper Colosseum, up to Booster 6, the field was initially only indicated by the background, but starting Booster 7 a symbol was added. Later releases eventually opted to use plain text.

This line of Fields are Nature Spirits [NSp], Deep Savers [DS], Nightmare Soldiers [NSo], Wind Guardians [WG], Metal Empire [ME], Virus Busters [VB], Unknown [UK] and Dark Area [DA]. In 2006, the new Digimon Card Game alpha released, and dropped the Unknown and Dark Area Fields, and added Dragon's Roar [DR] and Jungle Troopers [JT].

—Nature Spirits [NSp] This field covers many Digimon living in greenery, around lakes or desert areas. They're often considered simple and gentle. Starting the 2006-Savers-era this mostly only contains beast-like Digimon. —Deep Savers [DS] These Digimon live in the Net Ocean of the World. With the 06-era all water based Digimon started being included in this. —Nightmare Soldiers [NSo] Ghost and Demon type Digimon are in this field, as well as Digimon releated to Halloween. Many of them have a relation to darkness, but some are related to super natural themes. —Wind Guardians [WG] This field contains Bird Digimon, and generally Digimon associated with air or sky. Sometimes Vegetation-type Digimon are also included. —Metal Empire [ME] Machine, Cyborg, or Mutant type Digimon belong to this field. Later many "material" based Digimon or Filth Digimon get sorted into this field too. —Virus Busters [VB] Angelic and Holy Beast Digimon are in this Field. —Unknown [UK] This Field would include Mutants or Filth type Digimon. While a lot of modern media spreads these across other Fields, the Digimon Web still acknowledges it. —Dark Area [DA] Evil Digimon, namely Villains from the series, are in this field. —Dragon's Roar [DR] As mentioned above, this Field got introduced in 2006 and includes Dragon and Dinosaur type Digimon previously included in various other Fields. —Jungle Troopers [JT] Just like Dragon's Roar, Jungle Troopers had several Digimon from Nature Spirits and Wind Guardians added to it. It covers Insectoid and Vegetation Digimon.

While most Games don't include Fields, but rather some form of elemental classes based on primary attacks, Digimon World Data Squad does include the Fields as such, and the the DS games have "Species" categories that line up with the Fields: NSp > Beast, DS > Aquan, NSo > Dark, WG > Bird, ME > Machine, VB > Holy, DR > Dragon, JT > Plant/Insect. While the early DS games had one catergory for Insects and Plants, starting with Lost Evolution a Plant species was added.

What kind of elemental types are included and how they relate to each other varies strongly from game to game, the only constant being Fire. There's also multiple ones that overlap. Water and Ice are often grouped up, Electricity often includes Wind or vice versa. Nature, Earth and Combat often cover the same or similar ground too.

These elements also don't always refer to the Digimon themselves, but often only attack moves. And in Digimon World 3 and 4, and Survive, the Digimon don't have elemental types associated with them, but instead their resistance to each one.

[artist-issues]

Are those constellations? Drawn on the wall, supposedly in Lilo’s room? With Hawaiian names?

No. It is important to me that people understand. No.

Lilo has carefully decided-upon interests. Don’t you guys think it’s interesting that in the original movie they could have said, “hey, the little girl is going to have her life invaded by outer space aliens; why don’t we make her an outer space enthusiast?” but they didn’t?

Have you ever wondered why that is? Because again, somebody had to choose what would decorate her room. People had to decide what her interests would be. Ever wondered why they picked what they did?

Partly it’s because Chris Sanders likes fun creepiness and dark silly stuff.

But also, Lilo is a character who’s wrapped up in wanting to have someone who stays.

So she takes pictures of tourists, as if they’re “fascinating creatures” even though they’re people like her. Why do you think that is? It’s because she knows they’re leaving. She’s 7 and she knows that there are people who come to her town specifically to leave. So she treats them like exotic anomalies. Because she doesn’t want the “norm” to be “people leave.”

Also, she’s supposed to add onto her desire for people to stay a certain characteristic called “loneliness.” She doesn’t have friends. Why doesn’t she have friends? Because she’s bizarre. She’s a little weird. She likes making voodoo experiments and she makes up stories about fish controlling the weather and she makes up wacky names.

So the two ingredients you have that make up this little girl are:

Is lonely and wants people to stay in her little world.

Is a little weird and has weird interests.

Her room’s not decorated with “OUT THERE, AWAY FROM EVERYTHING SHE KNOWS” stuff because Lilo doesn’t have an interest in the “world outside of Hawaii,” as a place. Lilo loves her own little world. Her favorite singer isn’t a flashy new one, it’s Elvis, ol’ reliable. Her room is decorated with fish. And fishing nets. And seashells.

She’s not a Hawaiian bored with Hawaii but excited about the literal-furthest-place-you-could-go-from-Hawaii, OUTER SPACE. She’s NOT.

She loves her own little world, and she wants everyone she loves to stay in it, because her parents just died. Just left, out of her life, forever. When we meet her, she’s not a character with dreams who needs someone to believe in her or validate her. That’s other characters. It’s not LILO. Lilo is a character who needs Stitch because she’s lonely and she’s lost people and she’s not easy to love, herself. She’s not a character who needs Stitch the way Ariel needs Eric. Jeez.

She’s a desperate-to-STAY-faithful-and-have-others-STAY-with-her character. Not an “Out There” character.

And that stuffed animal? Lilo does not do pink poodles.

[starfata]

Here's a thought - Hermes might be oddly fond of Agarista. Not for obvious reasons, but because Odysseus is of his bloodline, and Agarista is Arsinoe's daughter - and so the child is, in a sense, a combination of the two deities. To Hermes, Agarista is an almost, a might-have-been, the product of his line and his beloved's - the closest thing he has to a child with his grey-eyed goddess.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

The first time he heard that Autolycus's distinctly named grandson had a child of his own, he'd just smiled.

Pleased, that his successful son had his line continue again through Odysseus.

Then, he heard the Other names attached to the tale.

And what a tale! A Goddess showing up in a flimsy disguise as a petitioner in order to deliver a gift, hedging her words so they thought her a madwoman until clever Queen Penelope put the clues together and realised the true nature of the petitioner!

The Dark haired Athenide, his favourite brother's dearest most hopeless love, the mother of Ascelpius by all but blood- although, there'd certainly been a lot of that.

Still, the Goddess of Loyalty and Demigods had hardly delivered babies before. She might be gifted children to see to, might guide them to safety or training if they were demigods, and might collect their souls to deliver to the underworld, but a living breathing baby?

And the other part of the tale- Arsinoe, in her province of Goddess of Family, weaving a child? She'd never seemed inclined to such a thing before. He wasn't sure she'd even held Ascelpius, although he knew Athena had, at Perse's urging.

As often as Arsinoe was sat at a loom, she usually wove nets and sails. Routine, relatively simple things to keep her hands occupied while that brilliant mind examined a more difficult issue. While tapestries and shrouds were not unheard of, this was the first he'd heard of a child being woven at her loom.

This bore investigation. Surely a quick peep at his new great-granddaughter wouldn't go amiss?

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Do you have any advice for someone who is visibly transitioning in front of people that might not be trans safe? I’m worried regulars at my job or possibly worse, my regular uber drivers will realize I’m trans and have a bad reaction. I’ve considered trying to pass until it’s unavoidable and then transitioning all at once so I’m not recognizable as the same person, but that seems a little too difficult to pull off. (You inspired me to finally start HRT btw! My appointment is in March and despite it all I’m very excited!!)

Congrats on starting HRT! 🎉

So, I'm not going to sugarcoat this one. If the HRT you're starting is T, you'll have plausible deniability for a few months, with folks thinking you've got a cold. After then, all bets are off.

What you need to do is figure out how to protect yourself. Best case is embarrassment from stares and gossip. Worst case is discrimination and violence.

You need to prepare for any of these scenarios. It could mean working pro-actively with HR on a transition plan, being ready to document harassment, to having a new Uber route and even a new job lined up.

Be prepared to lose work. Research the crap out of discrimination policies at your job and within the city where you work. Get a feel for who the allies are at your job. See who the local trans-friendly employment lawyers are. Just in case.

In my case, I faced the most outright harassment when I was visibly androgynous. Like, cross the street just to yell at me levels of harassment. This is where I worry about your Uber drivers. Most people won't look at you twice and they mind their own business, but there is a minority who gets riled up if they can't easily gender you and they will make it your problem.

I transitioned publicly in my music career and lost a lot of gigs because of it. I know people laughed at me and probably still do. It was a small world and I just had to deal with it, so I doubled down on my more manic side, was a big personality, and noisily fought for fair pay, which earned me a lot of respect and made the transphobes look foolish. I dealt with the embarrassment of being a spectacle by making it a point to earn those stares on my own terms. And looking back at it, I actually had a lot of fun, and have a slew of stories of me doing things like standing on chairs shouting and making horrible conductors cry. 😅

But in my ad agency career (80% of my income), I knew I could have a cleaner break post-transition and played it safe. I took a contract job, started HRT, and then left when people started giving me weird looks (about 7 or 8 months). I started my new job stealth (I later came out to make a point), though HR knew I was trans due to background checks and whatnot. There is no escaping your paper trail, and you need to come to terms with that.

So what I'm saying is, a lot is up to you and how you want to handle your transition. There is always risk. Have a backup plan and a backup for the backup. Have an emergency fund ready. Have a safety net and people you can check in with and vent to.

Good luck, I'm rooting for you!

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 2)

Lucifer/Reader

Rated E for the smex coming next chapter I SWEAR. ((Also there will not be any non-con in this fic, so please don’t worry. You’ll see when you read.))

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

Tag Requests: @loslox, @for-hearthand-home, @navierkalani

‘The worst thing they could be are swingers.’

Your heart was racing, and you felt ridiculous for how uppity you felt at the prospect of having dinner with your two elderly neighbors. 

Normally, meeting new people would cause a healthy amount of anxiety in you. You’d grown up into a recluse and upholding social niceties took most of your energy. It was even worse to be in their home, and among people that you likely did not have much in common with. 

These were personal reassurances that you told yourself after denying the first invitation for dinner with the Farrows. The guilt you felt, paired with the subsequent relief of not having to spend more than five minutes with your chatty neighbor, stirred an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

Of course you’d been unable to stop thinking about what a wretch you were, how karma was going to bite you on the ass for denying an old couple some company. 

And oh Karma did come back to bite you. Hard. 

You felt like you were hanging by a thread at work. Three weeks into the job and you’d already been reprimanded. Even the memory of your supervisor looking down her nose at you from the other side of her desk made your eyes water. 

“We have a ‘three strikes’ policy here. I’m afraid this will count as your first.”

Never having been fired from a job notwithstanding, you felt like the idiot your parents always purported you to be. 

If you’d have just stayed in your hometown, living off your parents’ good graces and kept your head down, instead of prancing out the door as if you had self-respect and no need for a safety net… 

Maybe things wouldn’t be so dire. 

Maybe you wouldn’t be on the verge of having a panic attack at this very moment, feeling the anxiety and restlessness from declining the previous invitation tenfold. 

With a deep breath in and out, you crossed the hall with the hesitance of a mouse approaching a snap-trap. You knocked on the door to Unit 606 with a shaking hand.

There was a moment left to blanch at the realization that you hadn’t brought anything with you. Like the shittiest, most thoughtless guest ever.

——

“You made it!” Mrs. Farrow held her arms out dramatically. “Come in! Come in! You’re right on time! Oh and you look lovely dear!”

“Thanks.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks as the door closed behind you. 

The layout of the apartment was a mirror image to yours, but you were overwhelmed by just how much stuff had taken up the space. From the kitchen to the living room, the apartment was brimming with kaleidoscopic color. Antique statuettes of unknown deities, handcrafted vases and sculptures in-set with gems and gold filigree, expertly framed posters of old Hollywood, and Persian rugs beneath well-worn furniture were visible from just a cursory glance. 

It distracted you from the unusually bitter, earthy smell that assaulted you upon entering. 

“Wow,” You said in genuine awe. “Your home is lovely.” 

“Aw, you’re too kind sweetheart. Too kind. Here, let me take your shawl - we’ll hang it up on the rack here, see.” She took your cardigan and placed it on an old hat stand before steering you out to the living room by the back of your shoulders.

There was a man sitting in a leather armchair adjacent to the couch. He was wearing a tweed jacket and his silver-blond hair had been combed back finely to show a pale, wrinkled face and eyes so dark they shone almost black in the lowlight. 

He looked at you with interest once you’d finally caught onto his presence, and opened his mouth to speak.

‘Quack!’ 

“Lou!” You laughed as the duck came racing over on its little legs. 

Without delay, the bird climbed onto your flats with an impatient flap of its wings, trying to balance while looking up at you adoringly. 

You couldn’t help but reach down and pat his little head, murmuring ‘hellos’ and ‘how you doing buddy?’ softly and sweetly. 

The man opposite you both smirked. “My wife was right. He’s quite taken with you.” 

“I’m always right!” Mrs. Farrow called out from the kitchen. 

You looked to the kitchen and back to, presumably, Mr. Farrow, an uncertain smile on your lips. 

“Welcome to our home.” The elder man’s voice was almost hypnotically deep. His hand was outstretched and waiting. “Please excuse me for not greeting you properly. When you get to be as old as I am, your body does everything it can to make you stay put in one place.” 

You shook your head. “Oh no, please don’t worry about it! I understand.” 

Mr. Farrow’s smirk seemed to soften as you spoke. 

“Please make yourself comfortable, my dear.” When he gestured to the couch, you awkwardly shuffled to sit down. Lou was right on your heels, loathe to spend even a second without your warmth. 

The duck ended up snuggled on your lap after begging to be lifted as you sank into the plush sofa. And you were grateful, hugging Lou to you gently as if he were a plush toy. 

It helped take your mind away from that spine-tingling feeling when it made a comeback — the way Mr. Farrow’s eyes glittered when he looked at you and his duck. 

‘Oh god, they probably are swingers. And they lure in their targets with this crazy well-trained duck.’ You thought, punching yourself in the face mentally. ‘And you fell for it. Walked right into their den of debauchery. You stupid bitch.’ 

“Here’s some water, honey. We’ll save the stronger stuff for dinner.” You jumped in your seat when Mrs. Farrow appeared at your side, setting a glass of ice water down on the end table beside you. 

You reached for the glass as its contents sloshed over the edge. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Farrow.” 

Mrs. Farrow beamed. 

“What did I tell ya, Warren? Isn’t she lovely? Just a peach. Lou is smitten.” She patted your shoulder. “And it’s Cassie, honey. Call me Cass.”

“You were right, Cass.” Warren Farrow intoned. 

He took on a conspiratorial tone as he addressed you once more. “You must know, my wife hasn’t stopped talking about you since you met the other day. I wondered if she was preparing us for a new roommate.” 

Heat flooded your face for the second time. “Aw.”

“Oh poo, as if you wouldn’a done the same.” Mrs. Farrow sniffed derisively. “Dinner in 5 minutes!”

Her exit left room for you to start a conversation, but you couldn’t find it in you to say anything. Mr. Farrow kept staring, smiling, which made you stroke Lou’s feathers for comfort that much more. 

The silence lasted a little while, save for the clinking, crackling, thudding from the kitchen dining room. Aside from catering to Lou, you surveyed your surroundings in an effort to avoid bouncing your legs.

The Farrows didn’t have a TV, only a large fireplace that they’d positioned their furniture around. There were displays on either side of the grate. On one stood an oversized chalice with intricate, swirling patterns. The other had a statuette of a goat-headed figure sitting crisscrossed on a throne, one arm poised to reach out to the sky.

“Baphomet.” 

You turned from the sight, head swiveling to face your human companion. He was eying you keenly again. 

“O-oh, the statue is…?”

Warren nodded. “Baphomet. Conceived as a false god around the time of the crusades. Most people see him as a depiction of Satan these days.” 

The association wasn’t too far-fetched, you figured with another look at the figure. Its goat-head and large horns were the most eye-catching thing about it. 

“I apologize if the sight upsets you, dear. I hadn’t thought to remove it before your arrival.” 

“Oh no, please. It’s alright.” You said. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s very interesting.” 

The rumbling hum at your side seemed to signal approval, or maybe general geniality with your neutral response. “Are you religious by chance?”

You turned to Warren again. 

“Ah, no.” You replied apologetically. “I grew up in a Christian area, but I was never very involved with the church.” 

Warren nodded. “That’s just as well. The institution and its practices can be stifling. I was never very involved with it myself.” 

“Religious artifacts have always been fascinating to me, however. There’s no shortage of temples and synagogues in this world.” 

“Have you been to many? For the history?” You were genuinely curious. 

The old man nodded again, stately and dignified even as he puffed up in his armchair like a peacock. “Cass and I are seasoned travelers. We’ve been to all 7 continents at least twice, seen the wonders of the world from the Hindu shrines in Malaysia to St. Basil’s Cathedral. I have a particular fondness for those countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. I was able to convince Cassie another trip to Rome wouldn’t put us in the poor house last year.” 

Your little huff of laughter was sincere, though the idea of traveling to Rome - or anyplace outside of the familiar - sounded amazing. “I’d love to be able to do that.” 

Warren’s head tilted to one side. “You’re quite young, I’m sure you’ll get the chance if you haven’t already.” 

“Sure.” You scoffed before immediately falling into contrition. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me —”

“Dinner time!”

Mrs. Farrow hollered from the kitchen, stopping you from trying to come up with a suitable excuse for yourself. 

Luckily, Mr. Farrow chuckled good-naturedly. He rose from his chair stiffly, legs visibly straining. “No need to apologize, my dear. But we best get going before the Missus comes out and drags us by our ears.”

——

All things considered, the dinner was perfectly fine. 

The jitters never left your frame, but you had chalked that up to a simple byproduct of your skittish nature. The red wine that Cass had insisted upon you made you feel warm and solid, at least. 

As did the fact that Cassie Farrow could hold entire conversations all on her own with very little effort or input from yourself. 

“You got a boyfriend, honey? Or girlfriend? No shame in that at all. We may be old but by no means bigoted. We’ve been all over the place, seen so many things - what’s natural to you and me could be the furthest from, in certain places. Isn’t that right, Warren?”

“Men in Ancient Greece often had relationships with other men.” Warren replied. “Royals in Europe had extramarital affairs with different sexes. It was all about keeping the bloodline pure, but romance was a different thing altogether.” 

“I haven’t dated in a while, actually.” You said. “It’s not been a priority.” 

Cassie nodded, exuberant as she drank from her wine glass. “That’s good too! Plenty of independent women these days! It’s about time, I say.” 

‘Quack quack’

Lou was beside you, red eyes locked in as he gazed upon you at the dining table. It made you giggle.

“Mm!” Cassie had a spastic moment. “I almost forgot!” 

The chair lurched out from under the old woman as she rose and scuttled out of the room. It left you blinking, and out of the corner of your eye you saw that same smirk on Warren’s face before his wife had returned. 

She had a small wicker basket in her arms. 

“This is for you, honey. Housewarming present from your kooky neighbors across the hall.” 

As she drew nearer, you caught a glimpse of the contents, some of which shone beneath the light of the overhead chandelier. 

“Thank you! You really didn’t have to.” The basket was pressed into your arms and Cassie was back in her seat before you’d finished your sentence. 

“Nonsense. It’s the least we could do. I still can’t believe no one welcomed you for a whole week!” 

The basket was lined with shredded filler, and nestled in between were little gemstones and crystals.

“There’s jade and ruby in there, and I believe there’s moonstone as well.” Mr. Farrow recalled. “Is that it, Cass?”

“Yes, yes, and carnelian too. It’s all scattered about there, with the Scrabble and the socks and the hand cream and oh!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Forgive us honey, we saw that little rubber duck and just had to get it for you.” 

There was a little rubber duck. It was a novelty type, with a tiny red jacket and a tiny black top hat. 

“It’s a carnival barker. No, it’s something like that. It’s on the tip of my tongue.” Your nose scrunched in thought. “Oh, a circus ringmaster!” 

“Exactly! See, what’d I tell you, Warren? She loves it!” 

“I believe I was the one who suggested it.” His voice carried through the otherwise silent dining room. 

“Oh well maybe it was, so what. She likes it. Don’t you, honey?”

“Yes, but…” You felt funny again. Tingly. “This is too much. Really. You’re both so kind but I can’t accept this.” 

A hand laid gently on your shoulder and you looked up at a frowning Warren Farrow. “It’s no trouble at all, my dear.” 

“The cost must’ve —”

“No cost, really. Gemstones and crystals are quite popular these days. You can find them all over. And the little trinkets are just the same. Given to you in good faith of course.” He patted your shoulder gently. 

You swallowed, eyes once again roving over the little mundane treasures. Silken feathers brushed against your ankle under the table and you met those red eyes, sparkling like the crystals in your basket. 

Lou was such a funny little thing. So expressive, he looked as if he were waiting as he stared at you. 

So funny. 

… You felt funny. 

Perhaps the anxiety from before was doubling back, just like that prickling sensation. It was less of a tingle and more a shiver or chill as you sat there. 

“I think it’s about time for dessert, don’t you?” Mrs. Farrow was saying somewhere far away. “You like chocolate, sweetheart? I made mousse, all fancy-like. It’s not as fancy as the kind you get at that restaurant downtown, the Ivy, but they’ve got fancy ingredients and such…” 

Reaching up to wipe the sheen of sweat from your forehead, you felt heat coming off from between your temples. With a shaky breath, you slumped down in your seat. 

The basket was gone. 

Your chair was scraping against the wooden floor as it was pulled out from the table. 

“Are you feeling alright, my dear?”

Wrinkled hands swept the hair from your face as your eyes rolled in their sockets. Words couldn’t get past the cotton-dry feeling in your throat. 

“It’s the wine, the wine. Said she’s not much of a drinker, it has to be the wine.” 

Cass’s voice was dampened and thick, like it was trapped underwater. 

Or perhaps you were trapped. Your head was spinning, limbs heavy as if you were a puppet sans strings. You had to be picked up from under your arms like a toddler and pulled upright. 

The next second you were walking through your neighbors’ kitchen, the door held open for you. 

“Maybe we oughta call a doctor? Honey, can you hear me?”

“I… yes. I can hear you.” It felt like an Olympic feat, but you spoke clearly. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.”

You stumbled against the wall and strong arms caught you when your knees buckled. It was Mr. Farrow allowing you to lean on him, solid as a rock. 

“Cass is right, you had quite a bit of wine.” He said. Another pat to your shoulder.

Did you? You could’ve sworn it was just a glass. 

Your apartment was barren and blank, the smell of laundry comforting against the memory of that earthy incense smell. 

“Get some rest, honey. We’re right across the hall.” 

“Thank you.” You breathed, lying on your sofa bed. “Again, I’m very sorry. Thank you for the welcome.” 

“Oh no, thank you.” 

——

When you opened your eyes next, you were shrouded in darkness. The outline of your entertainment system was in front of you, and the kitchen at your right. 

It was raining outside; little raindrops smattering against the glass. The sound was normal, no longer muffled until you were straining to hear it. 

‘Well that’s good.’ 

The heavy feeling in your arms was still present. 

‘That’s not so good.’

You felt perfectly sane and hysterical at the same time. It was like being caught in the eye of a storm. The danger had abated momentarily, but would begin again shortly. 

Your door opened, and in your peripheral you saw a shadow cut across the wall as a new figure emerged from the hall. 

You squinted in the dark. ‘Lou?’ 

The duck’s silhouette stilled as if you’d spoken aloud. You could feel something shift in the air, tension breaking through to your mind when it could not seize your body. 

That shift grew stronger, sucking in the air around it until a dazzling flash and crack of light blinded you. 

Lou’s shadow was gone. Or… it had changed. The shadow on the wall wasn’t a duck anymore it was… 

Your blood ran cold as the man stepped into your apartment and let the door close behind him. 

“Hello there!”