Tumgik
#it seems like a hundred years ago
canisalbus · 6 months
Note
you say machete has to be closeted then why's he always wearing them little heels
Maybe he thinks he's a tiny bit nicer looking in them.
#no in fact he's just a little ahead of the curve let me try to explain#again I'm not a historian I'm just sharing what I've read I might be misremembering stuff so don't quote me on this#high heels became extremely fashionable in the early 1600's probably just a few decades after Machete's time#and they were originally worn by men#because they were inspired by Persian riding boots#if your shoes had heels you'd have easier time keeping your feet in the stirrups (think of cowboy boots)#Europeans saw them thought they looked snazzy and they became wildly popular in noble circles fairly quickly#for some hundred years or so high heels were the epitome of class wealth power and status and they were essentially genderless#remember that concepts of masculinity and femininity are fluid and change over time#things that were seen as manly a few centuries ago may seem downright effeminate to a modern viewer#it's all matter of perspective neither is objectively more correct than the other#they started to separate into men's heels and women's heels around mid 1700's iirc but the changes weren't massive even then#and only truly went out of vogue when the French Revolution hit in 1789#and people all across the continent were suddenly put off by everything that reminded them#of the frivolousness and extravagance of royalty and aristicracy#so in his canon timeline I don't think people are looking at him and going “hmmm that's pretty gay”#because heels hadn't become gendered yet#maybe he likes how they accentuate his already tiny paws and make his legs look even longer than they are#he's interested in fashion or at least likes to dress nicely in high quality garments#he tries very hard to look his best despite never really feeling comfortable in his skin#he was a real shrimp as a kid and even though he eventually grew up to be a beanpole he might still find the extra height appealing#no one's going to look down on him ever again#I admit the way I draw them is a lot more modern than the true historical style at the time but not outrageously so#artistic freedom and all that in the end I'm not aiming for 100% accuracy#modern au Machete has no excuses though he's just a little bit fruity#if the guy feels empowered by wearing little clip cloppers let him#answered#anonymous#Machete
391 notes · View notes
smimon · 2 months
Text
Today I am very bitter. Excuse me rambling in tags below
14 notes · View notes
clorofolle · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lemons! From my little lemon tree
52 notes · View notes
Text
save me local historical attraction
local historical attraction save me
3 notes · View notes
snekdood · 3 months
Text
i just kinda feel like if you asked ram he'd tell you he doesnt rly give a huge fuck about all this like yall do lmao
2 notes · View notes
safyresky · 1 year
Text
Winter's Rage Room
(aka, In Which Winter Invents the First Rage Room)
"What are you wearing?"
"Winter, you're not gonna believe this," Blaise said, turning on his heel excitedly. "It TURNS OUT when you let the royal tailor use her gift of future sight when making clothes, you get some really snazzy options. I mean look at this thing!" He said, whooshing his blazer out with an almost childish grin. "You love it, right?"
"You look sharp," she said, hopping down from the smooth, marble banister of town hall. She peeped up at him, smoothing the material on his shoulders. "And very attractive," Winter said, smiling when he flushed, a few sparks popping off of his fiery head.
"Don't think I haven't noticed your legs," he said, low, his breath warm on her forehead. "I see that you've also visited Sabine. What are you wearing?"
"She calls it a flapper dress," Winter said with a grin. "And I quite like it! It’s nothing like my usual cozy warm layers of skirts, but I thought it would be a fun change of pace. I mean, it’s not like the cold actually bothers me. And I was right! I feel fabulous. Look at the skirt! It's asymmetrical. And all of these beads!" She said, gleeful, plucking at one of several clicking necklaces hanging down her neck. "And it takes well to frost," she added, grabbing the skirt and pulling it out a bit. The frost she had added to the dress glinted blue in the sunlight.
"It looks great," Blaise said, admiring her. "You look great."
"Oh, stop it you," she said, with a little bit of pomp and a look that said actually, don't stop it, I quite like being fawned over.
"I will not," Blaise said.
"Good," Winter said, sizing him up. "So why red? It's not really your colour," she finished, finger on her chin.
"I know. I was impatient, and red was what she had on hand. There is an orange one in the works, though! And the shirt is orange too. I made do. But anyway, watch this. You're gonna love this. Ready?"
Winter blinked. "Sure."
Blaise's brow furrowed in concentration. The temperature went up quite a bit; and with a crack and a pop, the red of Blaise's blazer (ha) began to fissure, glowing a bright orange through the cracks.
"Ta-da!"
"Did you just lava your clothing?"
"Technically it's below the crust, so I think it's more magma right now, but yes! I did!" He said, fists on his hips, looking very proud of himself.
Winter giggled. Gently, she raised her hand, glowing white with her wintry magic, and touched a section of his jacket. It froze instantly, turning dark blue very briefly. There was a hiss, and a pop, and the ice melted off, the lava once more glowing on the jacket.
"Oh, that's rather fun, isn't it?"
Blaise threw his head back and laughed. "For you I imagine it's oodles of fun," he said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants. Pants that were tapered and fit well! No baggy pants covered by tunics, or worse, TIGHTS. No tippets, no boots (though he didn't mind boots all too much), his hair on FIRE and NOBODY telling him to put it out or else! "It's amazing, the things Sabine is creating," he said, starting forward again. "That everyone is creating. Together."
The town square buzzed. The magibeans looked so happy. They waved as Blaise walked by, sharing pleasantries and chattering amongst themselves. They were a colourful bunch; sprites with their hair elementally charged, giants in suits, a few fae breezing by in loose clothes that seemed to be one large swath of breezy material folded over itself creatively to create flowing, gorgeous, robe like gowns. Dwarves were taking kindly to a thing Sabine said were called jeans, excited at the prospect of a tough material to withstand the tough stuff they did—and that was just a smattering of the fashions that had begun to spring up all around the country.
Some magibeans carried various building supplies towards the hall; others rushed towards the shops with brightly coloured buckets of paint, chattering excitedly about how they were going to customize their storefronts, now that they could. Dryads and centaurs planted the most colourful assortment of plants you ever did see. Cobblestones were slowly being laid down, colourful as can be, the mist from the springs sparkling in the afternoon sun as it drifted through the city.
A weight, that the entire continent did not know it had been carrying, had been lifted. They could all breath again.
"You should see what my sisters have been doing in the new provinces," Winter said, following beside Blaise, her hands behind her back as she nodded politely at the magibeans walking by. Her head roamed back and forth slowly as she admired all the changes they had made since she had last come by to bother her partner after work. "Have you been south west yet?"
"No, not lately."
"Well, Spring and Summer have worked wonders on the border between those two provinces. The groves, the orchards, the fruit trees, the vines! Oh Blaise, it's gorgeous. And it's all over, too! The farmland in the east is suddenly flourishing; Autumn is beside herself with happiness! The scab is still scabbed, of course, but everything everywhere else is healthy and happy. Mother says that almost all of the vegetation on the continent seems to be flourishing, as are the people. Everyone is growing together. I'd almost say the entire continent is sparkling like it's a brand-new place. The Springs especially look as glittery as I have ever seen them. And we all have you to thank for that."
Blaise chuckled. "Well, it’s not just me. There’s a whole team of magibeans getting things in order. And…all of this? Well, it's the right thing to do," he said.
"Yes! It is! So why are you so sad?"
"Sad? I'm not. I'm not sad."
"Yes you are. I am very good at seeing sads, Mister Frost. I am an expert, after all."
Blaise stopped, glancing down at his feet, his face darkening. Winter stopped beside him, watching him carefully.
"They forbade her from using her future sight when working. Did you know that?" Blaise finally said, looking up in the distance at the springs.
"Oh."
"Queen Frost apparently had a certain aesthetic she wanted to keep to, and she made sure it was enforced." He huffed, steam coming out of his nose.
Gently, Winter grabbed his arm, hugging it tightly. She felt his muscles flex in her little arm embrace. She squeezed back.
"It seems there's quite a bit to unpack there."
"Not really. Queen Frost was always just. Like that," he said with a shrug, Winter releasing her hold on his arm. She rested her hands in the crook of his elbow, looking up at him. "What more is there to unpack?"
"Do you ever think about yourself, Blaise?"
"What d'you mean?"
"I mean," Winter said, letting go and stepping in front of him, a little hill of snow happy to come into existence and give her a boost so she could stare directly into his eyes. "You put everyone first," she said, smoothing the round lapels on his jacket. "Everyone. But what about yourself? When do you have time for yourself?"
"When I'm with you," he said, gently caressing her face.
"Oh please," she replied with an eye roll, gently taking his hand off of her cheek and holding it in hers. "We both know that you always put me first."
"I thought you liked being the centre of attention," Blaise teased.
Winter laughed. "Pish posh. I like attention, yes, but I like you even more," she said, booping his nose. "And that's why I waited for you after work today! I am taking you on a date," she said, confidently, crossing her arms with a satisfied smile.
"Oh really?"
"Yes," she insisted. "I even dressed for the occasion," she reminded him, readjusting her arms to make sure all the bracelets she was wearing clinked.
Blaise smirked. With a tap of his foot, the snow below Winter melted.
Her smug exterior dropped; with a cute little meep, she found herself stepping down rather forcefully. She grimaced, already dreading the horrid feeling in her ankles that would rattle around for a bit when she hit the ground.
But, before she could even brace for impact, Winter was suddenly engulfed by a pair of very warm arms right around her waist, and pulled forward. Unscrupulously twirled about, she found herself pressed into Blaise's just as warm chest. She looked up, ready to bite, Blaise's bemused look stopping her in her tracks.
"I'm sorry, was that a-did you just meep?!"
"You melted my snow step!" She said, flustered.
"That was the cutest sound I've ever heard!"
"Blaise, my snow step!" she said with a cute little pout.
"Gods above. That meep could soften the hardest of hearts!"
Pouting, Winter squirmed, pulling herself up and seating herself on Blaise's forearms. He adjusted accordingly, supporting her as best as he could while trying not to think of her...well. Butt. Her butt.
She crossed her arms, still pouting. "I'm trying to be all suave, like you usually are, and you are making it very hard to do so!"
"You think I'm suave?" Blaise asked, genuinely.
"I think you are many things," Winter replied, her gaze softening. "And suave is one of them. Smooth, too. And sculpted. And sweet and kind and caring and also, very annoying. That poor snow step never did anything to you!"
Blaise chuckled. "It got in my way of you," he said, placing her down gently.
She cleared her throat, flushed, and dusted off her dress. "Now then. May I continue?"
"Go right ahead," Blaise said with a wave, shoving his hands back in his pockets.
"Great, perfect, thank you." She shook her arms, the beads and bangles clinking back into place. "You look out for everyone, but I don't think you look out for yourself much. This latest undertaking of yours has been lovely! Very lovely. Look at how this world is breathing now! There's so much colour, and laughter, and freedom...but I'm sure it's been bringing up all sorts of feelings for you, and I have just the thing for processing them," she said, excitement lighting up her delicate little features.
Blaise looked down at his shoes, thoughtful. Dismantling the monarchy and the, frankly, insane rules they had enforced had been a very long road. A century in and they had barely scratched the surface; eager to breath new life into the city, Blaise and Mother Nature had decided to tackle the "etiquette" rules, for lack of a better term. The governors of the new provinces had agreed, and things were going swimmingly.
But Winter was right, though Blaise didn't want to say it. Saying it would make it all real, and he didn't think he could weather the emotions all of that would bring up. The LAST thing he needed was his political career tarnished by an angry outburst when it had only just started.
"How did you know?”
"Your shoulders," Winter said, tilting her head. "They're more squared up, as of late. And you've been clenching your jaw. And all of you is so tense. I mean, you are rather muscular—"
"Oh ho ho, am I now?"
"Shut up," Winter said, flushing and looking away.
"Muscular, sculpted—"
"Annoying," Winter reminded him, still looking away.
"Sorry, sorry. I'll...tone it down a notch."
"Not stopping, though?"
"Nope! Never."
Winter laughed. "Good. I like when you tease. Just not when I'm trying to be very very nice to you!"
"You're always very very nice to me."
"Well. You're worth it," Winter said with a little shrug.
Now it was Blaise's turn to flush and look away. He cleared his throat. Winter rubbed her arm. They glanced back at one another; opened up their mouths to speak. Realized the other was speaking. Laughed.
"You, uh, had something in mind?"
"Mhmm," Winter said, nodding a little too fast, fingers pressed together. "Come along with me?" she asked, holding out a hand.
"Always," Blaise replied, grabbing it.
"Excellent!" And, with strength he had no idea the season possessed, Blaise was dragged away from town, towards the North.
---
"So I started doing this thing, many many centuries ago," Winter began, running alongside the trees, dragging Blaise behind her, “when it all became too much," she finished. She stopped briefly, glancing around the snowy paths in the foothills, pulling Blaise along once more when she found the path she was looking for. "Though I barely recall it now, it was very hard after the Call to go from the life I knew to the life I have now."
Blaise tugged her hand, stopping her in her tracks. Squeezing it, he looked at her softly. "What was it like?" he asked. "I never...things didn't change much for me at all after the Call. I can't imagine what it was like…would’ve been like...I kind of envied you and your sisters, in all honesty."
"Oh?"
"Yeah," Blaise replied, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck. "I, uh. Well, you see what I've been doing. With everyone. And I've told you about my family. It's not that I don't love them, or anything. It's just. Not the same as what you have. I’ve always wanted that.”
"I can hardly blame you. Mother Nature is a wonderful mother, and I love all of my sisters dearly. Even Spring. I'd never consider them anything but. Nevertheless," she said, taking a careful step forward. "It was a hard adjustment to make, especially when you're so little and don't quite know what's going on."
"Tell me about it," Blaise said, genuinely, as they continued at a much more reasonable pace. "Please. That is, if it doesn't, ah. You know. Upset you, or. Or anything."
"Well, I can hardly recall them now, but I…I loved my parents. My mother was…she was as cold as her title, and she kept that cool facade up to everyone she interacted with. Except for my father. She let her guard down with him. He was rather silly," Winter said with a soft laugh. "My memories are so faint now, but I remember he'd do such silly dances, make such funny noises, and he'd have the most pointless spells at his disposal, that did nothing practical—but they made me laugh. They made her laugh. And I suppose for him, that was all he really needed.”
"He dressed silly too, if I recall correctly. I think he came to the castle more than once in slippers."
Winter laughed. "They were bunnies! With ears! The Snow Queen hated them. But I think that just made the Winter Warlock love them more! And I do believe that deep down, Bianca found everything he did endearing. Otherwise I'm sure she wouldn't have named me after him. It was nice, I think. I don't remember feeling not nice," Winter said with a thoughtful frown as the path twirled upwards, hand still clasped in his. "Not until after the Call."
She stopped walking, looking out at the valley below them. It sparkled in the sunlight, the snow fresh. The trees were weighed down with blankets of snow, bowing low to the ground as the wind whistled in that calm, peaceful way it did in the winter. Off in the distance, one of the four rivers that branched out from the Springs sparkled, ice chunks floating along it. Everything seemed so much more...beautiful, in the winter, Blaise thought, eyes settling on the top of her head.
"It was scary," she continued, taking a seat on the edge of the path. Gently, and quietly, Blaise sat beside her, squeezing her hand and paying full attention.
She smiled up at him, squeezing back. "Bianca carried me out of her castle so fast. Winter followed behind us. I remember watching the pink light hit our home, and the towers tumbled; my little room was gone in the blink of an eye. The pink light bounced off of everywhere. Winter hurried us along, but he couldn't keep up. Bianca tried to go back for him, but he wouldn't let her stop. It was the fastest goodbye I'd ever experienced with him. And the final one, to boot. Whoosh!" she said, lifting her hands. "Pink light engulfed him, and he was gone. Just like that." She sighed. "I hid in my mother's shawl the rest of the way."
"I'd be scared too, if I were you."
"Really? You'd be scared?"
"Uh, yeah. What, do you think I don't get scared?"
Winter tilted her head, surveying him with a mix of curiosity and thoughtfulness, the corners of her mouth twitching as she tried to hold back a smile, eyes alight with mischief. "Perhaps," she finally said, the grin peeking out.
Blaise laughed. "I've been scared before! Plenty of times! Honest!"
"I'm not so sure I believe you," Winter said. "But we'll dig into that later."
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you can't wait to tear me apart, but not in a fun way! In a sort of I need to study you kind of way."
"Is that not fun?"
"Well, I don't know! I'm the one being studied! And not in the fun way!"
"Which is?"
"Y-you know," Blaise said, blushing. "Your place or mine? Let me get a closer look at your face? With my whole face? That sorta thing?"
Winter choked back a laugh, a hand covering her mouth, her face fast turning red. "Blaise! You absolute scoundrel."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment!"
"I take them as I go," he teased, squeezing her hand.
"Don't worry, darling. I'm not going to dissect you. As much as I love all your muscles, I quite miss the soft bits that are around when you're not holding a ton of tension in your everything."
Blaise sighed. "I know you do. So do I,” he admitted, scooting closer to her. Finding comfort in the cold press of her skin against him. “What happened next?”
"Hmm?"
"After your dad..."
"Oh! Right! Well, my mother brought me to the little hideaway they made for me, to keep me safe. You know, just in case. And she made sure I was cozy and set for the long term and, well, the Call caught up to us. She gave me a kiss, a smile, and uttered last words I don't remember because that's when it took her, too,” she said with a sigh, laying her head on his shoulder. “I was alone. And of course, after that, when the sky turned back to stars and the pink was gone, I wandered. Went back home—it was gone. Wasn't sure what to do until Summer started melting all the snow. Their snow, that I had watched them place down together. Helped them with, even. It was very upsetting, and I stopped Summer in her tracks and told her so right then and there! Her reply? ‘Oh snap! I found you! Let’s get going!’ And she brought me home to Tara and the other seasons, and now here I am, quite happy with Mother Nature and my sisters."
"But between that?"
"I was very unhappy. It was the very first time I ever experienced a frozen heart," she said. "I was sad. Sad that my parents were gone. I'd never see them again. And I resented them for it, the older I got. I was so sad, and post thaw I was so upset and angry, so...I found an outlet for it," she said, hopping up. “And that’s why we’re here!”
She stepped into the air, almost falling before ice formed just below her foot, stretching down the mountain. “Race you, hotshot,” she said, and down she went. "Try to keep up!" she shouted back, as she formed ice path after ice path, zig zagging down the mountainside.
Blaise grinned. He hopped up, took a few steps back and, with a running start, jumped, landing on the ice and sliding down just as fast as Winter. The pair laughed, twirling around one another until they landed in the valley, clothes dishevelled, hair windswept, and faces flushed.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine! I do this all the time! I’m the professional." Winter said. "Oop! Careful dear, it's slippery," she added, grabbing Blaise's arms.
"I'm good, I'm good," Blaise said, steadying himself and looking out at the wide valley before them, clinging to her forearms. "It's beautiful," he said, breathlessly.
"I know! I do great work and all anyone ever does is complain about how cold it is. Where's the respect for a season, hmm? My sisters don't get half the sleet I get!" she huffed, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, while the view is lovely as I do quite the amazing job, that's not why I brought you all the way out here. Watch," she said, placing a finger up in the air before Blaise could speak.
He let go of her arms, holding his up in surrender. Stepping back a pace or two, he gestured Winter forwards with a hand.
A grin, an absolutely feral grin that Blaise adored (he loved how unhinged she could be) slowly spread across her face. He stepped back again for good measure, watching as Winter cracked her knuckles, tilted her head side to side (cracks coming from her neck), and turned around, facing the pristine valley.
She stuck her arms out to her side, her fingers outstretched. She bent down a bit, her legs wide in the snow. She inhaled; held it, then exhaled. Her fingers curled in, hands glowing, and the ground below her began to shake.
The rumbling grew louder; the shaking stretched out farther and farther, until the snow all over the valley was bouncing around, the undisturbed blanket of white splitting.
There was a crack, and a shink; then another, and another, until the valley was echoing with low thrums and hums, and up Winter’s arms went, the snow exploding below her as giant pillars of ice burst out of the ground. They intersected with each other, tall and crooked, some forming arches with one another, others nearly colliding as they stopped moving, settling in their new places. Snow gently fell off the tops of the pillars, landing on the ground with multiple muffled plonks.
Winter turned around. "Ta-da!" she said, presenting the handywork.
"Look at that. Wow," Blaise said, with a low whistle.
"I know. I'm a gift to magibean kind and so underappreciated in my time."
"Not by me you're not," Blaise said, kissing the top of her head, and gazing over her at the mess of icy stalagmites, chin resting on her head, her shoulders trapped in a hug.
"So. Ah. An outlet, eh?"
"Big time," Winter said, squirming out of Blaise's embrace. "Watch and learn, hotshot," she said, skipping into the minefield. "I'd come out here, and I'd think of everything that had happened. I'd think of how rude it was that my parents just left me alone, how AWFUL it was, how they couldn't just say no to all of the stupid fae and their different factions and their dumb war, and I'd get all worked up and then, BAM," she said, with a flawless roundhouse kick into the nearest ice block. It cracked. "And then again," she said, kicking it with her other leg. The fractures deepened. "And then I'd finish them," she said, pressing her hands together and driving them right into the middle of the fracture.
In seconds, the ice shattered, fractals falling down to the ground. The top of the pillar came crashing down, shattering the little icicles that remained until it all fell into a heap, icy dust fanning out from the impact zone.
"Oh wow," Blaise said, his hair, embarrassingly, briefly flickering. He cleared his throat. "Is that how you got all, you know," he said, gesturing to Winter. "Slushy again?"
"Not at all. It's how I processed things," she said, grabbing the ends of his jacket and pulling him closer. "The slush was thanks to you," she said, booping his nose with hers and hopping backwards, leaving Blaise significantly flustered. She grinned.
"Oh," Blaise finally said, a goofy grin splitting his face. "Oh wow."
"So now it's your turn!"
"My-what? My turn? For what?"
"Property damage!" Winter said, chipper. "And I know just where to start," she said, pushing him towards the closest slab of ice. "Sabine."
"Sabine?"
"Yes. Royal tailor, gifted with foresight and forbidden to use it."
Blaise's face darkened again.
"Ou, yes, there we go. Tell me about that," Winter said, hopping up and sitting in the air, a pile of snow twirling up to meet her halfway.
Blaise placed a hand on the pillar in front of him, flat. He frowned at his reflection, looking away. He cleared his throat. "My brother and I were always held to such impossible standards. Exactly the same ones, too. And if I did something wrong, he got the blame for it too. And vice versa, though the former happened a lot more than the latter. And it’s not like I was doing anything wrong!” he said, smacking the ice below him. “I was just trying to be my own person, but goddess forbid I didn’t act exactly like my twin.”
“And then Sabine…”
“Yeah! The fuck!” Blaise finally said, the source of all magic choosing to ignore the swears sure to continue coming from this section of the country. “I thought it was just Pyros and I that had to keep up appearances,” he began, pacing back and forth, hands waving about as he spoke. “But apparently it WASN’T just us! It was almost the entirety of the royal court! And I had no fucking clue!” he said, a flaming kick shattering the icy pillar in front of him.
Blaise blinked, watching the pieces melt into the snow.
“Huh. That did feel kind of good.”
“Right?!” Winter said from her perch in the snow. “Keep going darling. The field’s yours.”
“Finding out everything my parents banned or forbade unnecessarily has been exhausting,” Blaise continued, pulling his hands down his face. “Sabine not being allowed to use her sight? Tip of the iceberg! Dave wasn’t allowed to float because goddess above forbid he appear higher than the King! And! Queen!” he said, both titles punctuated with a flaming punch, whoosh, CRACK, pop-pop-pop to the next pillar, the ice melting quickly and collapsing in on itself. “All sorts of magibeans employed within the castle weren’t allowed to do ANYTHING!” A hot slice through the air, the pillar beside him split in half, falling down on its now severed bottom half with a smack. It slid down to the ground slowly, in an almost comical fashion, landing on its side in the snow. “There was NO intermingling between stations and levels, no talking to the court unless they spoke to you first, and that was just within the castle walls, LADY of the Springs!”
One, two, three more icy pillars went down, the shards of ice hitting the snow with dulled thunks. Chest heaving, Blaise paused for a moment, back against a pillar as he focused on his breathing. “It was no way for anyone to live,” he said, quietly. “I know that because it’s how we were living! And just knowing that it wasn’t just us?” Blaise looked up. “It’s infuriating.”
Behind him, the pillar he was leaning on started to crack. It looked a bit shiny; wet. So did the ones beside it.
“How I was living,” Blaise realized. “Because that’s the thing, isn’t it?” he said, straightening up. “Pyros was fine with the way things were. I mean, you saw what he did! After I quit my studies, he just—he was fine. Just fine with the way they ran things. He saw no problems with it at all. But I did! But every time I spoke up or had a thought or reacted differently from Mom and Dad and my brother, it was an immediate lecture. That’s not how things work, they’d say. Or that’s just how it is. Or we do these things for good reasons. Like hell they did!”
He sprung off the slowly melting pillar really suddenly, his staff appearing in his hands. He stabbed it into the ground; it glowed brightly, and with a high-pitched squeal, a torrent of flames burst from the blue gem at the center, absolutely annihilating the pillars within its radius.
“Woo. Toasty,” Winter said, standing beside Blaise now. “I didn’t know staffs could do that!”
“They can do a LOT of things, when you’re actually allowed to experiment. Watch this,” Blaise said, pulling his staff out of the snow and giving it an exuberant (and definitely unnecessary) twirl. He grasped it by the base. The wood began to shift; slowly, it morphed, until it resembled a club.
“Oh, bravo!” Winter said, with a delighted little clap. “I bet you can’t get a hunk of ice across the valley.”
“Bet you I can,” Blaise said with a grin.
“Kisses if I win?”
“You mean when I win?”
“You can talk the talk, Mr. Frost, but can you hit the hit?”
“Isn’t it walk the walk?”
“Well, yes, but you will be hitting one of these lovely pillars, will you not?”
“Watch and learn, Ms. Winter.”
She stepped back, gesturing Blaise forward now.
With a grin, he hefted the bat staff in his hands, giving it a preemptive swing. Satisfied, he tightened his grip, and, bringing it as far back as he could, whacked the pillar in front of him.
It shattered; chunks of ice went flying. With another quick swing, Blaise hit one before it could fall. It went soaring across the valley. Shading his eyes with his hand, he watched as the chunk arced in the air, sunlight sparkling off it, before landing in a heap just before the riverbank.
“Boom,” he said.
Winter laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners, face flushed. Blaise shifted his weight; he watched her fondly, his staff returning to its default form just in time for him to lean on it as he watched the season laugh. She exhaled, finally, flushing when she noticed him staring at her.
Briefly, she looked down, smiling very big at the snow for a moment before composing herself. She cleared her throat, glancing back at the fiery man she absolutely adored, and tilted her head. “I know that what your parents did wasn’t fair to any of the magibeans.”
“It wasn’t. And I just let it happen,” he admitted, kicking a piece of ice that had settled by his foot. “And it wasn’t just within the castle grounds. It was the entire continent; every subdivision, every noble under their charge, they all had to adhere to these impossible standards, stifling their very essences just to keep two, quite frankly, useless magibeans happy! And I just let it happen.”
“Oh, Blaise. You are so very silly.”
“Excuse me?”
“What could you have done? You were so young, and as much a victim as everyone else was,” she said, stepping closer. “It wasn’t fair to you, either,” she finished, resting her head on his chest.
She could feel him sigh, the weight finally falling off of his shoulders. “It wasn’t.”
“And nobody blames you, darling! Nobody. You were just trying to survive.”
Dismissing his staff, he grabbed Winter, pulling her in tightly. “I know,” he said, trying hard to keep the tears out of his voice. “I know.” He gave her one last squeeze before breaking the hug, his hands resting on her shoulders. “But it still wasn’t fair. And the worst is, you know, they had the ability to make things fair for everyone! But they didn’t,” he said, his face darkening, his hair burning higher.
“But you do,” Winter said with a soft smile. “And you are. And it’s most definitely going to be a very long road ahead, but you’re doing what you can now. It is enough. I know you don’t feel like it is,” she continued, shrugging his hands off of her shoulders and grabbing them in hers, “but it is. I promise. So you should stop beating yourself up about it all, alright? And instead, beat up all of this,” she said, gesturing with both her hands and his, towards the field of half melted ice pillars.
Blaise smiled, squeezing her hands tightly. “You are so good to me.”
“I know,” she said, with a silly little grin.
Blaise laughed, sweeping her right off of her feet and pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he said, quietly in her ear. “And I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered back, pecking the side of his head (since that was what was closest to her). “I understand. And I’m here for you, Blaise. Always,” she said, giving him a little squeeze. “You don’t need to take responsibility for everything; you don’t deserve to. You deserve to treat yourself better.” She pulled back enough to look up at him and smile. “And you’re already working wonders, now that you no longer have to survive. Now that you have the opportunity to make a difference, and can make a difference, you are.”
“And everyone who can help is helping,” Blaise said. “It’s…nice.”
“It really is! We’ll all be okay, Blaise dear. You’ll be okay.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. And I’m always right,” she said, with utmost certainty. “Now then. Property damage?” she asked, gesturing out to the field of pillars.
“Property damage,” Blaise agreed, grabbing her hand. “Shall we go misplace a bunch of aggression?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she said, taking his hand and launching them both into the field.
---
Time passed; hours, minutes, neither really knew. Time practically stood still when they were together. And certainly it felt as though it was now, as they lay down face by face in the snow, surrounded by tiny little beads of half melted ice chips. The moon glowed in the sky, the stars sparkling brightly. The once smooth blanket of snow was well trodden, now, flattened to the ground and frozen solid in some places.  
They had collapsed together, catching their breath as the remnants of the last few pillars melted away, feeling a lot lighter now that they had exploded a ton of ice while venting about everything that had happened. A shooting star passed high above them, chests finally slowing down as the pair caught their breath.
“I believe someone owes me kisses?”
“Oh yes! I do, don’t I?” Winter said, springing right up and throwing herself on top of Blaise.
“Oof,” he said, reaching up and pulling her in close. “You take my breath away.”
“That’d be the body slam I just did,” she said, kissing the tip of his nose. And then his forehead. And then his cheek. And then the other cheek, and then any itty-bitty speck of space she could find on his face. Nowhere was safe. Nowhere.
Not that he minded, of course; he only minded when she stopped her onslaught.
“Excuse me. I was promised kisses? Plural?!”
Winter laughed, crossing her arms on his chest and leaning on them. “I am aware.”
Blaise quirked an eyebrow, throwing his hands behind his head and staring at her, suspiciously. She was plotting; he knew it. “Well, where are they?”
“Hmm. Good question! Either at your place, or mine, I should think,” she said.
“OH! Nice throwback,” he said.
“Thank you kindly,” she replied, watching as his brow furrowed in thought for but a moment.
“Yours is closer,” he decided, hair igniting as, with a devious smirk, he grabbed her around the waist, wasting no time whatsoever in poofing them right into the pile of blankets and plethora of pillows that covered her bed.
---
(The next morning, he found himself awoken by Summer’s very loud barge into Winter’s room. His fellow summer sprite’s eyes grew wide when she realized he was right beside Winter, and she screamed, excited.
“Ou, Winter! You go girl! Get it!”
“Get out get out get OUT!” Winter yelled, throwing a bunch of pillows at her sister.
Summer cackled, running right out of the room. “WAIT UNTIL I TELL SPRING AND AUTUMN!”
“DO NOT!” Winter yelled back, hopping out of the sheets and giving chase.
Blaise chuckled. He loved staying over at Winter’s place).
---
I started writing this a month ago?? According to my drafts??? I was coping with some HORRORS and using Blinter to do it. Finally finished it today! It is DELIGHTFUL and I am HOPING that the horrors that INSPIRED this are finally finished for now. Or at least getting better. RELATIONSHIPS ARE HARD, ESPESH WHEN UR PARTNER IS VERY BLAISE CODED AND HAVING A ROUGH GO OF IT AND YOU CAN'T ACTUALLY MAKE A GIANT FIELD OF ICE FOR THE BOTH OF YOU TO SMASH UP BUT GOD YOU WISH YOU COULD!
Anyway.
This is roughly a century or so after the War of Succession (Millennia War, Civil War, I've given it like 70 names lol). So they've been together for a hot (pun intended) minute! I imagine they get hitched shortly after this and, well, you know, this happens >:).
Enjoy the fluff!
9 notes · View notes
foxsoulcourt · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Just got off call w/H + their bf who saw Glass Onion tonight. So.much.laughter as we gLeeFuLLy sifted through what each of us loved, things we noticed or didn’t until later, all.those.incredible.costumes + the M a N y quirky bits.
8 notes · View notes
torhues · 1 year
Text
i hope 2023 goes easier on all of us, happy new year <3
4 notes · View notes
Text
its such a small thing in the scheme of all the things that annoy me about the show macgyver 2016 
but the thing that most annoys me might be in s1e6 wrench 
theyre talking the whole episode about the ‘peace talks at the un’ and they never specify any countries involved or what conflict theyre talking about
it seems like a massive multilateral it just really really annoys me that they repeatedly say peace talks and were supposed to just accept that oh yeah peace talks thats what happens at the un
2 notes · View notes
onequeermushroom · 17 days
Text
you know how some people are complaining about "the death of masculinity" and the "feminization of our men" and "what happened to real men?" and all that? yeah people were complaining about (scared of) the same thing around 1900 as well. you're not original, you're saying the same thing people 100 years ago were saying
0 notes
reginaldqueribundus · 6 months
Text
the Federation itself as a concept is so funny because the founding members are
the Vulcans, who have been friends with humanity for years but don't seem to actually like them all that much, instead regarding them with a sort of perverse fascination usually reserved for virology labs
the Andorians, who were fighting the Vulcans for like a hundred years
the Tellarites, who don't like any of these people and whose cultural trait is arguing, and
humans, whom nobody knew existed until last century when they shot themselves into space on a heavily modified nuke, invented world peace and won a fight with the nearest imperial superpower
like imagine you're the Romulan Empire and these weird monkeys who've barely figured out interstellar travel show up on your doorstep in the equivalent of a shipping container with missiles strapped to it, kick your ass in front of everybody, and then start a friendship club with 3 of your neighbours who all hated each others' guts until like a year ago. now I understand why every Romulan on the show is so angry
23K notes · View notes
cinnabeat · 3 months
Text
i have a habit of reading extremely long form media like manga and webnovels so like ngl im surprised and impressed that fairy tail ended at 545 chapters AND in 11 years
1 note · View note
thehardkandy · 4 months
Text
i got sauced online the other day because while it was relating to a music promoter, someone was saying like "hey i feel like they have kinda gotten too focused and not enough on fun experiences"
and people in the comments are like "why do you all sound like commies. companies exist to make money blah blah blah"
like not to be naive but i think the way in which companies try to turn a profit isn't something that would be immune to criticism because of the baseline assumption that "companies exist to make money"
like, yes, they do. but typically what we think of as a good company is one that offers a product. a service. a SOMETHING that people deem worth spending money on
and the fact that people will bend over backwards to defend getting gouged on incomplete products. on being upsold on bullshit. on being misled and taken advantage of. as if this just means the company is "winning" which is all that matters
i know i am naive on these. but man. sucks that we just we're supposed to go "haha well played!" when a company with ethically lacking business practices comes out on top, strangling away anyone that thought to be in it for such regular reasons as "making a modest profit on a service/product people are satisfied with"
0 notes
reasonsforhope · 4 months
Text
Ancient redwoods recover from fire by sprouting 1000-year-old buds
Tumblr media
Article | Paywall free
When lightning ignited fires around California’s Big Basin Redwoods State Park north of Santa Cruz in August 2020, the blaze spread quickly. Redwoods naturally resist burning, but this time flames shot through the canopies of 100-meter-tall trees, incinerating the needles. “It was shocking,” says Drew Peltier, a tree ecophysiologist at Northern Arizona University. “It really seemed like most of the trees were going to die.”
Yet many of them lived. In a paper published yesterday in Nature Plants, Peltier and his colleagues help explain why: The charred survivors, despite being defoliated [aka losing all their needles], mobilized long-held energy reserves—sugars that had been made from sunlight decades earlier—and poured them into buds that had been lying dormant under the bark for centuries.
“This is one of those papers that challenges our previous knowledge on tree growth,” says Adrian Rocha, an ecosystem ecologist at the University of Notre Dame. “It is amazing to learn that carbon taken up decades ago can be used to sustain its growth into the future.” The findings suggest redwoods have the tools to cope with catastrophic fires driven by climate change, Rocha says. Still, it’s unclear whether the trees could withstand the regular infernos that might occur under a warmer climate regime.
Mild fires strike coastal redwood forests about every decade. The giant trees resist burning thanks to the bark, up to about 30 centimeters thick at the base, which contains tannic acids that retard flames. Their branches and needles are normally beyond the reach of flames that consume vegetation on the ground. But the fire in 2020 was so intense that even the uppermost branches of many trees burned and their ability to photosynthesize went up in smoke along with their pine needles.
Trees photosynthesize to create sugars and other carbohydrates, which provide the energy they need to grow and repair tissue. Trees do store some of this energy, which they can call on during a drought or after a fire. Still, scientists weren’t sure these reserves would prove enough for the burned trees of Big Basin.
Visiting the forest a few months after the fire, Peltier and his colleagues found fresh growth emerging from blackened trunks. They knew that shorter lived trees can store sugars for several years. Because redwoods can live for more than 2000 years, the researchers wondered whether the trees were drawing on much older energy reserves to grow the sprouts.
Average age is only part of the story. The mix of carbohydrates also contained some carbon that was much older. The way trees store their sugar is like refueling a car, Peltier says. Most of the gasoline was added recently, but the tank never runs completely dry and so a few molecules from the very first fill-up remain. Based on the age and mass of the trees and their normal rate of photosynthesis, Peltier calculated that the redwoods were calling on carbohydrates photosynthesized nearly 6 decades ago—several hundred kilograms’ worth—to help the sprouts grow. “They allow these trees to be really fire-resilient because they have this big pool of old reserves to draw on,” Peltier says.
It's not just the energy reserves that are old. The sprouts were emerging from buds that began forming centuries ago. Redwoods and other tree species create budlike tissue that remains under the bark. Scientists can trace the paths of these buds, like a worm burrowing outward. In samples taken from a large redwood that had fallen after the fire, Peltier and colleagues found that many of the buds, some of which had sprouted, extended back as much as 1000 years. “That was really surprising for me,” Peltier says. “As far as I know, these are the oldest ones that have been documented.”
... “The fact that the reserves used are so old indicates that they took a long time to build up,” says Susan Trumbore, a radiocarbon expert at the Max Planck Institute for Biogeochemistry. “Redwoods are majestic organisms. One cannot help rooting for those resprouts to keep them alive in decades to come.”
-via Science, December 1, 2023
11K notes · View notes
fuckyeahgoodomens · 2 months
Text
Terry Pratchett about fantasy ❤
Tumblr media
Terry Pratchett interview in The Onion, 1995 (x)
O: You’re quite a writer. You’ve a gift for language, you’re a deft hand at plotting, and your books seem to have an enormous amount of attention to detail put into them. You’re so good you could write anything. Why write fantasy?
Terry: I had a decent lunch, and I’m feeling quite amiable. That’s why you’re still alive. I think you’d have to explain to me why you’ve asked that question.
O: It’s a rather ghettoized genre.
Terry: This is true. I cannot speak for the US, where I merely sort of sell okay. But in the UK I think every book— I think I’ve done twenty in the series— since the fourth book, every one has been one the top ten national bestsellers, either as hardcover or paperback, and quite often as both. Twelve or thirteen have been number one. I’ve done six juveniles, all of those have nevertheless crossed over to the adult bestseller list. On one occasion I had the adult best seller, the paperback best-seller in a different title, and a third book on the juvenile bestseller list. Now tell me again that this is a ghettoized genre.
O: It’s certainly regarded as less than serious fiction.
Terry: (Sighs) Without a shadow of a doubt, the first fiction ever recounted was fantasy. Guys sitting around the campfire— Was it you who wrote the review? I thought I recognized it— Guys sitting around the campfire telling each other stories about the gods who made lightning, and stuff like that. They did not tell one another literary stories. They did not complain about difficulties of male menopause while being a junior lecturer on some midwestern college campus.
Fantasy is without a shadow of a doubt the ur-literature, the spring from which all other literature has flown. Up to a few hundred years ago no one would have disagreed with this, because most stories were, in some sense, fantasy. Back in the middle ages, people wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing in Death as a character who would have a role to play in the story. Echoes of this can be seen in Pilgrim’s Progress, for example, which hark back to a much earlier type of storytelling. The epic of Gilgamesh is one of the earliest works of literature, and by the standard we would apply now— a big muscular guys with swords and certain godlike connections— That’s fantasy. The national literature of Finland, the Kalevala. Beowulf in England. I cannot pronounce Bahaghvad-Gita but the Indian one, you know what I mean. The national literature, the one that underpins everything else, is by the standards that we apply now, a work of fantasy.
Now I don’t know what you’d consider the national literature of America, but if the words Moby Dick are inching their way towards this conversation, whatever else it was, it was also a work of fantasy. Fantasy is kind of a plasma in which other things can be carried. I don’t think this is a ghetto. This is, fantasy is, almost a sea in which other genres swim. Now it may be that there has developed in the last couple of hundred years a subset of fantasy which merely uses a different icongraphy, and that is, if you like, the serious literature, the Booker Prize contender. Fantasy can be serious literature. Fantasy has often been serious literature. You have to fairly dense to think that Gulliver’s Travels is only a story about a guy having a real fun time among big people and little people and horses and stuff like that. What the book was about was something else. Fantasy can carry quite a serious burden, and so can humor. So what you’re saying is, strip away the trolls and the dwarves and things and put everyone into modern dress, get them to agonize a bit, mention Virginia Woolf a few times, and there! Hey! I’ve got a serious novel. But you don’t actually have to do that.
(Pauses) That was a bloody good answer, though I say it myself.
6K notes · View notes
Text
A Week (He Will Take You)
~
Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.
This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.
Anyway
This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,
They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.
They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.
Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.
Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.
In other words they were stuck in Gotham
Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.
Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,
Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.
You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.
Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.
But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.
"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"
This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.
"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"
That was it.
The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.
But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,
Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.
The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty
Like no one had been living in it.
People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.
Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.
~
Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"
Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "
~
Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"
~
Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."
Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."
Bruce: "Hn."
Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"
~
Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"
Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"
~
Just an Idea
4K notes · View notes