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frameacloud · 4 months
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"DNI-Related Controlling Behaviors: The use of a DNI to try to enforce control over anyone who so much as ‘likes’ a post of theirs to an unhealthy degree, often backed up with social shaming, harassment, and callouts. The DNI may also be used as a social ‘trap’ to create an acceptable target for abuse. NOTE: While reasonable boundaries are good and DNIs are not by themselves red flags, this goes beyond reasonable boundaries and into unreasonable controlling behaviors. The use of ‘DNI’ in this criterion refers to all ‘boundary rule’-esque pages such as BYFs and other such things, not just DNIs.
"Vagueing, harassing, making callouts, or otherwise attacking people who are using the website as intended (i.e.- interacting with posts on their feed in any fashion without stalking the op) and likely did not see the DNI. Especially if the DNI is hidden or nonspecific and vague (ex- ‘no freaks’ or ‘standard DNI’), making them even easier to violate by accident.
"Frequently interacts aggressively with people who are clearly on their DNIs and then calls them boundary violators for responding to the harassment."
- Excerpt from "Safety in Alterhuman Spaces," a document by the Dragonheart Collective. Emphasis in the original. You can read the whole document here (PDF).
A note on language in the above quote: DNI (Do Not Interact) and BYF (Before You Follow) mean a type of post that many people put on their social media accounts to tell others about their boundaries.
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otherkinnews · 5 days
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One anti-furry bill died, the other two wait to be heard
(This blog post was originally posted on the Otherkin News blog on DreamWidth by Orion Scribner on March 24, 2024.)
Content warnings: Rated G. An urban legend that describes an unsanitary situation. Sexism against transgender people, including attempts to prevent them from going to school or using facilities, and outing children to their parents. A straw-man version of furries being used to try to discredit transgender people, in a way that could cause trouble for people who identify as nonhuman.
So far this year, Republicans have proposed three pieces of legislation that are opposed to furries or people who identify as nonhuman. That’s something they started doing last year, inspired by an urban legend about litter boxes in public schools, which they made up in parody of transgender students asking to use school restrooms. We’ve been ending up calling these “anti-furry bills” as we keep track of them in our Otherkin News blog. Furry isn’t the accurate word, but it is the word that Republicans use in the urban legend and usually in the bills too. Every once in a while, I’m checking on the status of the bills, and trying to see if there are any new ones. Here is the update for this week.
1. Oklahoma House Bill 3084 (OK HB 3084) “Schools; prohibiting certain students from participating in school curriculum or activities; effective date.”
Background: We wrote about this bill in detail in a previous Otherkin News post. The bill says that furry students should be taken out of school by animal control. Its only sponsor (writer) is Justin Humphrey (he/him). This seems linked with his opposition to LGBTQ people, as well as his efforts to legalize animal fighting. Later, Jim Olsen (he/him) took over as principal sponsor of the bill. He proposed changing it to have the same text as an unrelated bill of his, one requiring public school classrooms to display the Ten Commandments.
Update: The bill’s current status hasn’t changed since our last update. It’s still at 25% progression toward becoming a law. Its text hasn’t changed from what it was originally, so it's still about furries.
2. Mississippi House Bill 176 (MS HB 176) “Gender dysphoria; require school personnel to notify parents of student who request to be referred to as different gender or nonhuman.”
Background: This was introduced at the same time as the first bill. As we previously wrote about it, the bill is mostly against transgender students in a way that could put them in real danger. It would require schools to out transgender students to parents, and to allow faculty to not accommodate any student who “identif[ies] at school as a gender or pronoun that does not align with the child's sex on their birth certificate, other official records, sex assigned at birth, or identifying as an animal species, extraterrestrial being or inanimate object.”
Update: This bill’s current status is dead! Hooray! It died in committee on March 3. When a bill dies, that means that it won’t progress toward becoming a law.
3. Missouri House Bill 2678 (MO HB 2678) “Prohibits students from engaging in ‘furry’ behavior while at school”
Background: We previously wrote about this bill. The bill says to pull students out of school for being furries or purporting to be animals. The bill’s only sponsor is Cheri Toalson Reisch (she/her). This appears to be connected with her opposition to transgender people as well as her efforts to undermine public schools in favor of charter schools.
Updates: This bill hasn’t changed or moved forward. It’s still the same as it was when it was introduced. A hearing hasn’t been scheduled for it, and it’s not on a House calendar.
-
About the writer: This blog post was written by Orion Scribner (they/them), who has been a community historian and archivist for more than ten years.
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2nd2ndalto · 8 months
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I have a headcanon that all the demigod kids routinely end up in each others beds/cabins at night, because nightmares and trauma and whatnot. So I wrote this smol fic.
~~~~~
There Is Rest and There's You
The first time Nico sees Annabeth leaving the Poseidon cabin at an ungodly early hour (having been dragged from his warm bed by Leo and Jason for an ungodly early errand), he flushes, quickly looking away. Because it's obvious, even to him, that she’d spent the night. But Annabeth merely sleepily raises a hand in greeting and continues on her way back to her own cabin.
Jason, maybe noticing Nico’s discomfort, simply shrugs. “Musical cabins,” he explains. “Happens a lot.”
Leo nods in agreement. “Yep. I had some really wicked nightmares last week, three nights running. I ended up on Jason’s floor. Would have been in the bed, but Piper got there first,” he adds, disgruntled.
Huh, Nico thinks. Musical cabins. That's a little weird.
After that, he pays more attention. It’s not unusual, as it turns out, to find the Apollo cabin overstuffed with various campers early in the morning, rivalling even the occupancy of the Hermes cabin. Sometimes it’s couples tucked in together, but more often it’s friends, siblings. Seeking comfort, and sleep.
It's six months into Nico's stay at Camp when he begins forgetting to lock the door to Cabin Thirteen. He nearly runs Harley through with his sword the first night he finds the younger boy fast asleep in his cabin. But after that, it quickly becomes routine to wake to the quiet comfort of someone else’s soft snoring across the darkened room. Most often it's Will, brushing a warm hand over Nico's forehead before settling into the other bed, but sometimes it's Harley, and several times Leo, complaining that Jason’s bed was already full.
It’s a little weird, but surprisingly nice. Nico begins leaving his door unlocked most of the time.
On a night late in February, the nightmares are worse than usual. Nico wakes in a cold sweat, heart pounding, tears welling behind his eyelids. He does what he usually does - dresses quickly, and walks. There’s something meditative about the rhythm of his boots on the ground and the sharp, cold air on his skin that usually settles him.
But the thing is, it’s really cold. And after only about half an hour he finds himself standing in the central green, torn. He can't feel his toes, but he can’t quite stomach the thought of returning to his own empty cabin, either.
His frozen feet lead him up the stairs to Cabin Seven. And gods, it’s warm inside.
There’s a soft rustle of blankets from Will’s bunk.
“Nico?” Will’s voice is soft and scratchy. “What’s wrong?”
The taller boy is out of bed and across the cabin in a heartbeat, reaching for Nico’s hand. Scanning him, Nico knows, blue eyes wide with worry.
Nico shakes his head. “I’m fine. Just - couldn’t sleep,” he murmurs, and the concern on Will’s face fades to sympathy.
“The bunk above mine is empty,” he says simply.
And that’s that. Nico climbs up, snuggles in. Will’s messy blond bedhead pops over the edge of the bunk, his smile fond. He squeezes Nico’s arm. “Sleep tight.” And then he disappears.
Nico worries it might be awkward, in the daylight. It’s anything but. The Apollo cabin is a riot of sound and motion in the morning. Austin flings a stuffed turtle at Nico's head. Nico's foot is hanging off the edge of the bunk, and Kayla tickles it, cackling when he squeaks.
“Breakfast time, sleepyhead,” she chirps.
“Sleep well?” Will asks as Nico climbs back down.
And the thing is, he really did.
Time passes. The nightmares wax and wane, but they get easier, mostly.
Until one night in July. It’s almost a year to the day since he came to stay at Camp - Nico thinks, later, maybe that’s why the nightmares hit particularly hard. He wakes shaking, gasping for air, convinced he’s fading again, permanently this time. It scares him so much more than it did when it was actually happening. He shoves his hands against the wood of his headboard, hard, positive they’re going to slip right through. They don’t, but he can't shake the panic.
Nico’s up and out the door in the space of a breath, no hesitation as he makes a beeline, barefoot, for Cabin Seven. The air is cool for July, the full moon shining bright above.
He can feel his panic ease the second he closes the door behind him, soothed by a quiet symphony of soft breathing.
But the bunk above Will’s is occupied tonight, and as Nico's eyes adjust, he realizes all the others are, too.
“Nico?” Will’s voice is a whisper. “Nightmare?” He sits up, silhouetted in moonlight.
“Yeah.” Nico steps closer. “Looks like you’re all full in here, though. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He turns to leave, but Will grabs his arm. “I’ll come with you.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. You go back to sleep.”
Will gazes at him in the dark, fingers still wrapped around Nico’s wrist. “Or you could stay. Here.”
“There’s no room, though.”
“I have room,” Will whispers.
Nico blinks at Will’s bunk, then back at Will, his stomach attempting to leap into his throat. Will’s eyes are wide, nervous.
“I... um -” Nico begins. He can feel his face heating at the thought of it.
“Gods, di Angelo, just stop talking and get into his bed. Literally no one cares,” Kayla grumbles from the next bunk over. There appears to be at least one Demeter kid in her bed. Maybe two.
Will’s fighting a grin now and he shrugs. Nico shrugs back, then… climbs into the bed. Will scoots over to make room, pulling the blankets over them both. And gods it’s warm, and it smells like Will, and when nothing else calms him, that always does.
Nico lets his eyes close. Then -
“Do - do I feel like I’m fading?” he asks in a whisper, echoes of the nightmare flashing behind his closed eyelids.
Will gazes at him. Then he reaches for Nico’s hand.
“No,” Will whispers. Someone clears their throat nearby and Will grimaces, yanking the blankets over their heads.
“Did something happen?” he asks, his breath brushing Nico’s face.
“No, just - nightmare."
Will nods in understanding. “No. You’re good,” he smiles. He goes to pull the blankets back down, then seems to reconsider.
“That’s um… that’s usually why I end up in your cabin. At night.” he admits, quiet. “Sometimes... I just need to make sure that you’re still solid.”
Nico stomach flip-flops. "Oh."
Will shrugs, sheepish. He pulls the blankets back down, settling on his side. "Here," he says, reaching for Nico's hand again. "Then neither of us has to worry." He tangles their fingers together, reaching out to lay his other hand on Nico's arm, tethering him.
Will's soft smile in the dark is dazzling, and his hands are warm, and Nico worries his own answering smile might just light up the entire cabin.
When he wakes hours later to the familiar sounds of chaos, his head tucked against Will's shoulder, Will's face buried in his hair, well. He thinks maybe this musical cabins thing isn't so bad after all.
Notes
This is a short one! I tried to challenge myself to write something coherent in 1000 words or less. I almost managed it.
It is also my personal headcanon that Harley kind of attaches himself to Nico & sees him as a big brother. This comes up in something else I'm working on as well.
I would love to hear your related headcanons! Snuggly demigods! Sleeping in heaps like puppies!
Jason may not come up much in my fics but please rest assured he is Always Alive.
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ml-nolan · 2 months
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Postlude
Here's a little one-shot in the Layers of the Sun Dreamling AU that I've been thinking about for months. It's set shortly after the final chapter of Music When You Speak. Enjoy! 💜🖤💜🖤💜
Approx. 1156 words | Rated G | On AO3
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Ever since he gained the internal stability to do so, Dream started keeping an eye on the LAPD unclaimed property website. It was a choice that Dr. Gault had at first been wary of, worried that it would keep Dream trapped in a horrible memory.
"Are you sure you want that thing in your house? Would it not be triggering to see it day after day?"
"The memory will never leave me, no matter what I do," Dream had replied.
Truthfully, with the treatments Dr. Gault had administered, the ghost of electricity surging beneath his skin, the feeling of being trapped like an animal, the acute pain and indignity, had faded. When he remembers his brief but violent captivity now, it is like looking at a still life painting rather than inhabiting a looping film sequence.
"Owning it seems more like…justice. Like my due. And like what…it…deserves," he told her. 
When he put it that way, it did not take her long to understand.
This morning, he sits at the countertop, drinking black tea as the sky brightens from indigo to light blue through his westward facing windows. As the cloud cover evaporates, it reveals the texture of windswept white caps on the ocean. Refreshing the website on his laptop screen, he finally sees exactly what he's been waiting for all this time.
By the time he hangs up the call with his broker, a familiar car is pulling into the driveway, followed by a less familiar truck. Today Hob is moving in, completely and for good.
After one more long look at the photo drawn up on his screen, Dream shuts the laptop.
There isn't much to unpack. Hob has been slowly moving things over from his little townhouse ever since Dream bought this place. Plus, he'd unloaded a lot of his stuff on Matthew, Wanda, Martin, and whoever else wanted his old junk.
He’d brought over his cheese toastie maker, naturally. The bed they bought together so Dream would be more comfortable goes in one of the guest bedrooms. The few records Hob keeps at his house go into the listening room, and all his tacky little knick knacks go into a room that Dream has set aside especially for him. When Hob calls it a man cave, Dream wrinkles his nose like he's just smelled spoiled milk.
"We are both men," Dream says.
"Right, but here I can put up my collection of neon beer signs and taxidermy." 
"You have none of those things."
"Says you. You didn’t know me during my redneck phase.”
Dream has the most adorable wrinkle of confusion between his eyebrows. Clearly he has no idea whether Hob is joking or not.
“Just kidding, love,” Hob says. He grips Dream's waist with both hands, and Dream allows it, just the way Hob knew he would. And just because he can, just because he loves that put-upon look on his face, Hob plants an extra-wet kiss on Dream's lips. Dream wipes it off with a scowl, but he's blushing down to the collar of his crewneck t-shirt.
As the moving truck disappears around the bend in Dream’s private road, Hob cards his fingers through Dream's mess of sable hair.
“Sooooo…care to give me a tour of my new bedroom?”
Dream grins, but he shakes his head.
“I am waiting on one more delivery," he says. "I need your help making space in the workshop."
—-
A wiry blonde, possibly in her sixties (or older given the way people in this city fight the natural aging process) slides out of the passenger side of a white delivery truck.
“That took no time at all,” Dream says as she approaches. "Ethel, this is my partner, Hob Gadling."
Hob looks radiant as he shakes her hand. But then, he always looks radiant to Dream.
Ethel gives Hob a curt nod, then sighs as she fusses with the tablet in her hands. “Bit miffed they posted the thing before calling me. I told my contact months ago money was no object." 
"You succeeded. That is what matters," Dream says. He has waited patiently, and the fruits of his patience are now in front of him. All past obstacles are irrelevant.
Two men roll up the door on the back of the truck and lower a metal ramp. The instrument is even more massive than Dream remembers, but then again, everything from his state of mind, to the size of the space they inhabit, to the circumstances under which he is seeing it, is completely different. 
Better, obviously. And completely on his terms.
Hob raises his eyebrows as they roll the piano down the ramp on its study casters, but he doesn't interrupt as Dream settles up with Ethel, as the two men negotiate it down to Dream's workshop and set it in the space he and Hob had spent the last half hour clearing.
Then they are alone again. Just the two of them and Dream's newest charge. Until now, he's only worked on smaller instruments—guitars, violins, even an old mandolin. This will be a new challenge, especially given the horrible sound the piano makes when Dream strikes a few of the keys. 
But as far as Dream is concerned, this instrument was just as much a victim in the whole Burgess affair as he was. It deserves the same level of restorative care Dream has received. And as far as Dream is concerned, he's the best person to provide it.
Hob watches Dream take stock of the full-size grand piano at the center of his workshop.  His graceful fingers coast over the enamel, lingering on a few nasty scratches. It must not have been treated well in the last couple years, which is a real shame. The thing sounds like it belongs in the saloon of an old Western honky-tonk. But even with his perfect sense of pitch and sound sensitivity, Dream doesn't even wince.
The reverence in his touch tells Hob exactly where the piano came from. Hob had heard Dream's testimony. He had seen the crime scene photos. The entire world had. 
"So this is the piano, huh?" 
Dream nods, lowering the heavy lid and stepping back. "It saved my life. I would like to return the favor."
Moving in behind Dream, Hob wraps his arms around his middle and hooks his chin over his shoulder. The tense muscles in Dream's shoulders and back slacken, and he leans his head back against Hob's shoulder. The delicate skin of his neck is soft under Hob's lips.
"You saved your life, too, you know," Hob says softly into his ear.
"As did you," Dream says. 
He turns his head to accept Hob's kiss, and Hob has one of those moments he often does with Dream—the kind where he barely recognizes the enchanted thing his life can become.
"So about that tour…" Hob says. Dream kisses him one more time before they head back upstairs.
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ctrldao3 · 1 year
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Good Soup
“Is this a good idea?” Din asks Grogu.
Really, he’s questioning himself aloud as he stirs the bubbling concoction on his stove. Grogu can’t give much insight into his dilemma. He only tilts his head in reply, ears twitching curiously as Din adds another pinch of ground up spice.
Din’s been cooking for hours, though he doesn’t have much to show for it. The soup would’ve been done and simmering long ago if he hadn’t burnt the first batch in his flurry of nervous activity. Cutting the vegetables all over again had taken forever, and now he’s not sure how much curry powder and chili he’s added. When he shoves a spoon under the bottom of his tilted-up helmet, he feels the burn slowly arrive at the back of his tongue. It’s not as flavorful as it should be, but it would’ve passed the taste test in his Covert’s kitchens, he thinks.  
Still, Din’s not sure it’s right, not sure it’s good enough to serve a Jedi.
When he was told the New Republic were sending representatives to approve Mandalore’s official position along the trade route, he hadn’t expected Luke Skywalker to come along. The clan elders were quick to object, demanding that Din send back a firm stipulation: No self-proclaimed Jedi were allowed on their newly reclaimed planet.
But for Grogu, they had ultimately relented. He’d quickly wormed his way into the hearts of every Mandalorian who met him. As both the child of the Mand’alor and a surprisingly powerful Force-user, he’d earned their respect; it was his sweet nature that won their affection.  
Grogu was who Luke Skywalker wanted to see, Din told them. He couldn’t deny the Jedi’s right to visit his former student. And thankfully, Skywalker had arrived in humble fashion, accepting a simple accommodation and refusing Din’s invitation to attend the trade negotiations.
Din had never thought he’d see the mysterious Jedi again. In his memories, Skywalker is a miracle – an all powerful demigod who saved them from certain destruction and whisked Grogu away to a peaceful planet for secret training. He is a phantom in black, a faraway, untouchable being, a heroic story in the tomes of the New Republic’s histories.
But on Mandalore Skywalker appears to be just a man. A powerful one, certainly. But his otherworldly grace had faltered in the first few minutes of his arrival when he’d cracked an awkward joke and earned a sharp glance from his traveling companions. Just the previous evening Din had heard him laughing in the courtyard with Grogu as they lifted stones into the air. It was a nice laugh, warm and light.
When he’d asked if he could visit Din and Grogu in their home this evening, Din had been stunned by his luminous smile. Who smiled like that? He’d asked himself over and over as he fretted in the sparse Mandalorian kitchens looking for ingredients. So open and free and child-like? He looked at Din like he trusted him. It was unnerving, it was strange, it was…
Well, it was nice.
Din tries another sip of the tiingilar . Now that he thinks about it, it doesn’t quite taste like the full-bodied, lucious stews of his youth. Maybe he should just cancel altogether. This was definitely a bad idea. What if Skywalker is a vegetarian? He didn’t even think to ask.
His panicked plans to pluck out the roast tip-yip are interrupted by a light tap at the door. Grogu leaps off the table and hurriedly goes to answer it.
Din returns his gloves to his hands and wipes at the fog that accumulated on the visor of his helmet when he leaned over the pot. He follows Grogu to the door, but freezes at the sight of Skywalker gently hugging Grogu to his chest.
“It’s good to see you too, friend,” Din hears him murmur into Grogu’s ear. “You’ve gotten so big.”
Skywalker glances up at him, his smile for Grogu transferring to Din. Nice, yeah, definitely nice. Maybe more than nice. But best not to dwell on that.
“Uh, welcome Master Skywalker,” Din says before the awkward silence can stretch out for too long.
The Jedi walks toward him, balancing Grogu on his hip. “Luke is fine,” he says. “And thank you for having me, Mand’alor.”
Din swallows when they’re only an arms-length apart. There’s something so steady about Luke’s presence, Din notices. So calming and magnetic.
“Din,” he says softly, reaching out to… he redirects whatever ill-advised trajectory his hand had started to tug at Grogu’s ear.
“Please.” He gestures that they should follow him back into the dining area. He’s weirdly self-conscious about it now. When they’d established the city, many of the clan members wanted to restore the palace, but Din had refused. In the moment it had seemed practical, but now he wishes he could entertain Grogu’s former teacher in a more official manner.
Luke seems comfortable enough, however, setting down Grogu on the table and coming over to peek at the stove.
“Can I help?” He asks.
Din bites the inside of his cheek. Why the kriff is he so nervous?
“No, it’s pretty much done.”
Luke lifts his eyes to Din’s visor. They’re a nice color, Din can’t help but notice. Sort of reminiscent of the dawning blue skies he’s seen on Tatooine before. Or maybe he’s remembering the conversation he’d overheard the other night, when Luke had regaled some of the Mandalorian’s with his life story.
“What are we having?” Luke asks.
Din clears his throat. “It’s a traditional Mandalorian soup… or stew. Whatever you want to call it.  It’s – it’s the only thing I know how to make that’s not instant. Got stuck in kitchen duty as a kid… long story.” Din could strangle himself for being so awkward.
Luke smiles up at him, eyes sparkling with quiet laughter. It’s not mocking, though, just understanding.
“That’s nice of you to cook,” he says and there’s a tilt to his tone, almost like curiosity. Because right. Din could’ve ordered food to be brought from the communal kitchens to his rooms. Dank farrik , it’s like the moment that Luke asked to visit Din’s common sense disappeared.
He dishes out the tiingilar gloomily while Luke and Grogu have a quiet conversation at the table. The only sounds are Luke’s hums of interest and, “oh, is that right?” along with Grogu’s responsive coos. He tries not to dwell on the stab of envy that wracks through his body at Luke’s ability to communicate with Grogu so easily.
Din sets a bowl and spoon in front of them both, and sits down on the bench next to Luke and alongside Grogu’s allotted place atop the surface of the table. Skywalker watches him for a moment, holding the spoon in a reluctant hand while Grogu shamelessly tucks in.
“I didn’t expect you to cook for me,” Luke says. He fiddles with the spoon in his one gloved hand. “I would’ve been happy to just visit. I know that… I’ve learned since our first meeting that your helmet is a sacred part of your Creed.”  
Din looks down at his folded hands. He doesn’t want to admit the reason why he’d gone through the trouble of finding the right ingredients and making two batches of this damn stew. He doesn’t want to talk about what happened that day on Gideon's cruiser and the months that followed – why Luke is on Mandalore visiting Grogu instead of Din visiting Grogu on Ossus.
But Luke is apparently stubborn and unwilling to take a bite of his food until Din says something.
Din sighs. “I’ve begun his training. Just lessons in the Creed and history – it’s where we begin with younglings. As he grows, there will be more. We can adapt to his size and skillset. I know that it will be different –”
“You don’t –”
“-and not as formal as the Jedi, but as Mand’alor I can set up decades of –”
“Din.”
Din snaps his gaze to Luke, softly shocked to hear his intimate name on Luke’s lips.  
Luke lays his spoon down on the table. His face is so achingly sincere when he says, “I know he’s taken care of. That’s not why I came to Mandalore.”
Din frowns behind his helmet. “How do you know?”
Luke smiles. “Grogu told me.”
They both look at the kid, who is slowly slurping long green stems into his mouth and getting sauce all over his face.
“What did he tell you?” Din asks. It comes out more softly than he meant it to.
“That you’re everything he needs. More than. He’s been alive for longer than you and I. He’s seen more than we have. But he understands life in the simple way of children. His faith in you is unshakable.”
Din has to clench his fingers together to keep himself from getting visibly emotional. From the look on Luke’s face when Din finally manages to glance up, he must have failed at hiding it.
“Please eat,” Din chokes out as he slides over to Grogu and pets the soft hair on his head. Grogu pauses in his soup dissection to give Din a toothy grin.
The tender moment is interrupted by a choking sound that sends Din rocketing up. He nearly trips on his cape when he sees Luke’s face turn red and eyes water as he valiantly tries to contain the violent cough fit that’s taken over.
“Shit!” Din yells and runs to the faucet to fill a glass of water. It floats from his fingers before he’s halfway across the room and slams into Skywalker’s hand. The Jedi immediately chokes it down, coughing between gulps and swiping his sleeve across his eyes.
“I’m so sorry!” Din bursts out, standing helplessly next to Skywalker as he tries to recover. “When you mentioned you were from Tatooine the other night — the last time I ate something from there I had a curry that could’ve melted the face off a Gundark, I’m so sorry, I—”
“Din,” Luke coughs. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handkerchief. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Really.” He blows his nose and wheezes a laugh. “I just inhaled a chili. I can usually handle the heat. It’s fine, really.”
“Maybe I should order us something else,” Din says, already lighting up his vambrace to order something.
But Luke’s gloved hand reaches over and stops Din, grasping his fingers. It shouldn’t have, but the simple touch shocks Din to his core.
“I love it,” Luke says. His fingers tighten slightly and then move back to his spoon.
“The last time someone cooked for me…” Luke’s gaze goes into the middle distance, and he frowns slightly.
“Are you okay?” Din asks, still worried that Luke Skywalker, famous Rebel pilot, the Last Jedi, will finally be brought down by Din’s awful cooking.
Luke nods, turning back to his stew and taking a measured bite. This time he swallows evenly, no choking. “Yes. I was just remembering my Aunt.” He smiles up at Din. “She would’ve liked you.”
Din tilts his helmet. It’s such an oddly nice thing for someone to say.
“Yeah? You think she would’ve had room at her table for a grumpy Mandalorian and his messy son?” Grogu chirps at that and whatever he tells Luke through the Force makes him laugh.
“She would’ve loved to make room for you. Because you’re my friends.”
Din stares at Luke, a swell of something stirring beneath his ribs. It’s similar to the nervousness he’d been fighting all day, but warmer. Certainly more welcome.
“Why did you come to Mandalore?” He finally asks.
He might be imagining it, but a blush seems to color Luke’s cheeks when he twists his lips, shrugs, and says, “I wondered how you were.”
hey can’t seem to look at each other after that, Luke’s focus returning to eating the tiingilar while Din stares at the whorls of the wood table. The warm silence ends when Grogu burps into his empty bowl and babbles something in Din’s direction. Din turns to Luke for translation.
“He likes your soup,” Luke says. “So do I.” T here it is again. That blinding smile.
Din returns it, unseen. But he hopes that Luke can sense it anyway.
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theravenfics · 4 months
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Chasing Tails by KellieAltogether (6,359 words, general audiences)
“Is this meant to say raven?” Four years out of veterinary school, there were plenty of animals Adam Parrish hadn’t had the opportunity to deal with yet, but he never expected a corvid to come through the doors of the practice. Rural Virginians had a slew of pets, from dogs to snakes to chinchillas, along with an even larger slew of livestock, but ravens weren’t high on the list of domesticated animals in and around Henrietta. Adam Parrish is a veterinarian in Henrietta, Virginia. He's used to dogs. He's used to cats. He never thought he'd treat a raven. Or a pygmy goat. Or a fennec fox. Or an emu. But then Ronan Lynch shows up.
@givemonetatry: this had me smiling all the way through, i love ronan and his menagerie
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otterandterrierwrites · 2 months
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@she-she88 replied to your post “Hey guys, I want to try to do a very silly, random...”:
16&13&36
​14 Days of Scoundress 2024 ♥ February 2nd
Terribly corny crap
She agreed to this statue, this tribute erected on the main plaza of Hanna City. She agreed to standing here, in person, as speakers and performers parade by. She has been seeing a therapist for a while, even. She’s dealt with this.
So why the fuck can she not get it together?
Leia hasn’t broken, not yet. But she has achieved that by fixing her unblinking eyes on the statue of her parents, with all of two billion names etched on it, until their features blurred, as she tries to trick her brain into thinking she’s staring at nothing but a shapeless mass of ore. Which means that, sooner or later, she’s going to tear up anyway. Exactly what she’s been trying to avoid.
She cannot break in public. Will not. She hasn’t learned how to do it gracefully, for public consumption, and she’s not interested in doing so. Grief is one of the few things that remains hers.
Maybe if her bantha-brain of a husband were actually there to hold her hand like he promised he would be—
Leia grits her teeth, frustrated at herself. No, this isn’t on Han. This is on her, for forgetting what it was like to get by without him. How did she do it before?
By numbing yourself to everything but rage, she reminds herself, and burning the candle at both ends. Tucking it all away until it was safe to crash down.
As if she’s somehow summoned him through the Force, she finally spots Han, pushing through the throng of onlookers at the plaza until he’s at the front. He waves at her and grins when he catches her eye. Even at a distance in her official pod, Leia sees his gaze soften with concern—probably as Han clocks in her expression. Leia doesn’t even want to think what she must look like, her features sitting like a too-tight mask on her face, but it’s all she can do to keep the emotion at bay.
Then he’s waving at her again, making sure she’s looking at him, and brings one hand to his mouth… and blows into it, in her direction.
Leia blinks in confusion. Han brings his hand to his lips a second time—kissing it, she realizes, and flings it exaggeratedly to where she stands, drawing baffled and mildly annoyed looks from his neighbours, most of whom probably don’t recognize him. He does that once more, ending with a sweeping gesture instead. The muscles on her face, which felt locked beyond her help, finally relax, like a trap that’s been disarmed, and she even manages an eyeroll at her husband, who smirks at his success.
What a goof.
Later, he makes his way to her, and the people around her definitely recognize him, giving them a moment of privacy.
Han steps forward, his arms half-raised to embrace her, but she holds her hands up and looks over his shoulder.
‘Wh—?’
‘I’m looking for security,’ she deadpans. ‘I’m calling the cops on you for that terribly corny crap you just pulled.’
‘Ha,’ he says, then huffs a little as Leia throws herself at him, burying her face into his chest, arms tightening around him just for a moment, just to let him know how she’s feeling, the grief that snuck up on her and still demands release, but also the gratitude for him, and his terribly corny crap.
‘It worked. You were supposed to catch it, though.’
‘Was I?’
He presses a kiss into the crown of her head before she steps back. ‘Sorry I couldn’t make it sooner, sweetheart.’
‘That’s alright,’ Leia says, grabbing his hand as they begin to make their way back home. ‘You were right on time.’
******* Prompts:
16: in grief
13: “I’m calling the cops on you for that terrible shit you put me through.”
36: [blowing] a kiss in the air and send of the gesture towards the partner
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trudemaethien · 18 days
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Fanart for March Home by CmonCmon, set in the Soft Wars AU, the story that hooked me back into TCW. This is a (much improved) redraw of a sketch I made in 2020 for the fic.
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on AO3
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g1rlr0b1n · 5 months
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Super Sons Week 2023
Day One: The First Time (Kiss)
Title: Seven Minutes in Heaven
Rated: G
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saioumaarchive · 6 months
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“That particular clown came with the circus every year, Shuichi had noticed. Sometimes he was working one of the carnival game booths, swindling jerks out of money and discreetly knocking over extra pins or something to help little kids win the especially good stuffed animals. Other times he was a part of the show, drinking sparkly purple fire like soda and letting other clowns drop probably-fake pianos on him so he could somersault out of the way just in time. One year he even played the ringmaster, in a spangly checkerboard suit and tails. That was the year Shuichi had first learned his name – Kokichi Oma, apparently – and also the year this same Ringmaster Oma claimed he’d been running the show the whole dang time. Behind the scenes, you know. A secret ringmaster, who may have been the only person in the whole world who could say whether D.I.C.E. stood for anything at all.”
~ thatsrightdollface, “Apple Cider and the Circus”
It’s impossible to pick a favorite fic from @thatsrightdollface ’s library, so I went with the most autumn-y one I could find. “Apple Cider and the Circus” is an absolutely adorable non-despair AU where Shuichi and Kokichi play a game of hide and seek that spans several years. The circus is in town again, so where’s Kokichi hiding this time?
Thatsrightdollface is one of the oldest contributors to the fandom, and has one of the most unique writing styles I’ve ever seen. They put so much of the POV character’s personality into the prose that it draws you in immediately, and even the most minor description is so charming that you’ll want the story to go on forever. Be sure to give them some love today!
Rated T (We’d give it a G) 2,712 words, one-shot Published 26 February 2020
~Mod Equinox
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steddieunderdogfics · 15 days
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hi, for challenge monday [song lyrics as title] i’d like to rec “if you have a minute” by MacksDramaticShenanigans. it’s such a sweet escape and so real both at the same time. such a lovely read <3
if you have a minute by MacksDramaticShenanigans
@stevethehairington
Rating: General audiences
10,681 words, 1/1 chapters
Archive Warning: No Warnings
Tags: Not Canon Compliant - Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Vecna (Stranger Things), Post-Upside Down Destruction (Stranger Things), Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Stressed Steve Harrington, Comforting Eddie Munson, Rain, Screaming as a form of catharsis, Diners, First Kiss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, in the sense that steve is very stressed and worried, and eddie gives him an outlet and tells him it's going to be okay
Summary:
They pass the cigarette back and forth for a few quiet minutes. And there’s something about Eddie’s presence that’s helping just as much as the nicotine. Eddie holds the cigarette back out for Steve, blows the smoke out in a smooth, steady stream, and tilts his head. “You working tomorrow?” He asks. Steve shakes his head. “Not tomorrow. Why?” Eddie pushes himself off of the wall. “Great,” he declares and grins. “We’re doing something then. You and me. I’m gonna take you somewhere.” Steve’s face scrunches. “What? Where?” Eddie tuts and wags his finger. “Nope, not telling you,” he says. “You’ll find out tomorrow. Meet at my place at nine. Don’t be late.” He doesn’t give Steve a chance to argue or further question it. Just throws a little salute and turns on his heel, disappearing around the corner. Or, the one where Steve’s anxiety doesn’t get the hint that they defeated the Upside Down, and Eddie knows just how to help.
Thanks for the rec!
Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!
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frameacloud · 2 months
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Some basics about alterhumans, otherkin, and therianthropes
Alterhuman is not another word for nonhuman. It’s not another word for otherkin, either. Alterhuman is an umbrella term for therianthropes, otherkin, nonhumans, and more. It can also be for some who do identify as human, just in some unusual ways. The word alterhuman is short for alternatively human. It was coined by Lio of the Crossroads System in 2014. Its purpose was so all of these kinds could unite under a word, without erasing what makes each one distinct.
The otherkin and therianthrope communities started without any relation to each other. The word otherkin was coined in the year 1990 in the Elfkind Digest mailing list. Its participants were elves, dragons, dwarves, wolves, and more. That’s where the otherkin community started.
Elsewhere, the therianthrope community started in 1993, in an internet group for fans of werewolf stories, alt.horror.werewolves. The participants started talking about how they related to those stories. Therianthropes are often kinds of animals that live on Earth, but not all of them are.
Later, in the late 1990s and 2000s, the communities of otherkin and therianthropes started to mingle because of what they have in common with each other. The two still exist side by side, with their own distinct qualities, and so do many other sorts of alterhumans.
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otherkinnews · 1 month
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Republicans introduce a 7th anti-furry bill and work to undermine student freedoms on a wider scale
(This blog post was written by Orion Scribner and N. Noel Sol, originally posted on February 18, 2024 to the Otherkin News Dreamwidth, at this link.)
Content warnings: Rated G. An urban legend that describes an unsanitary situation. Sexism against transgender people, including attempts to prevent them from participating in sports and using facilities like everyone else, and attempts to stop them from transitioning.
Summary: In 2023, Republicans began to propose laws (bills) in the US that would be against people who identify as animals. They base these on an urban legend that says schools provide litter boxes for students who identify as animals. Republicans made up that legend in parody of transgender students asking to use school restrooms (Scribner and Sol, 2024). The newest of these bills is Missouri House Bill 3678 (MO HB 2678). It’s the third such bill in 2024, bringing the historic total of these bills up to seven. This bill was written as part of a Republican effort to undermine public schools (which can’t ban transgender students from using the right restrooms, and students have First Amendment rights) in favor of religious charter schools (where students aren’t protected in those ways). The following blog post is a seven minute read.
What the Missouri bill says
Missouri House Bill 3678 (MO HB 2678) has the title “Prohibits students from engaging in ‘furry’ behavior while at school.” You can read this bill and see the latest actions on its official site, the Missouri House of Representatives, or on a third-party legislation tracking site, LegiScan. This bill was introduced this week, on February 13th, and read a second time on the 14th. It would add a law into the Revised Statutes of Missouri (RSMo). It would go in the part of the state laws about education, in Chapter 167, titled “Pupils and Special Services.” It would say:
“A student who purports to be an imaginary animal or animal species or who engages in anthropomorphic behavior consistent with the common designation of a ‘furry’ while at school shall not be allowed to participate in school curriculum or activities. The parent or guardian of a student in violation of this section shall remove the student from the school for the remainder of the school day.”
The same as the other bills like it, this bill is based on an urban legend, not on anything that was done in real life by students, furries, and/or people who identify as animals (McKinney, 2022a). This bill's wording looks like it was based on a bill from another state, Oklahoma House Bill 3084 (OK HB 3084), or its predecessor last year, Oklahoma Senate Bill 943 (OK SB 943). It shares their inaccuracies: though there are real people who identify as animals, surveys show that most furries don’t, and the dictionary definition of the word “anthropomorphic” means resembling a human, not resembling an animal (Scribner and Sol, 2024).
Who wrote the bill, and what is its context with that author’s other motivations?
The Missouri bill’s only sponsor (writer) is Cheri Toalson Reisch (she/her). She is a Missouri Republican who has supported anti-transgender bills in the past. One of those is MO SB 39, which would ban transgender students from participating in their gender’s sports division (both in private and public schools, up to and including in colleges and universities). Another one is MO SB 49. It would bar minors from accessing gender transition related surgeries or medications, removes adult coverage of hormone replacement therapy and any gender-affirming or transitioning surgeries from the Missouri Medicaid program, and denies prisoners and inmates access to any surgeries related to gender transitioning. She described both these bills as a “great move in the right direction,” and has been vocally critical that they were not harsher (Central MO Info, 2023).
Reisch is familiar with the urban legend started by conservatives of students using litter boxes in school bathrooms. She has posted about it on Facebook, telling her constituents that it is actively happening in Missouri and accusing the Columbia school district of taking part in it, stating “This is happening in Columbia Public Schools also. Yes, the janitor has to clean the litter box” (McKinney, 2022a). That's never happened. Schools say they have not been providing litter boxes to students in this way, and even deny that they have had any students identifying or behaving as animals, according to reliable fact checking resources (Reuters, 2022; Palma, Snopes, 2023).
Reisch has a history of being especially critical of the Columbia school district, which is one of the largest and most successful school districts in the state (McKinney, 2022b). She’s used this urban legend to attack the district’s legitimacy. This may be because Reisch prioritizes independently-run charter schools over standard public schools. Earlier this year, she sponsored MO HB 1941, which would allow for charter schools to operate within the Columbia school district without the district’s sponsorship.
Why are Republicans criticizing public schools and favoring charter schools?
In the US, the normal types of schools for children up to about age 18 are called public schools. Families don’t have to pay for their children to attend them. They represent the ideal that everyone growing up in the country should have equal access to school, regardless of income, class, race, religion, or ability. Because public schools are government establishments, the US Constitution protects the students’ rights there. The First Amendment of the Constitution protects the freedom of speech and religion of everyone, and that’s for students in public schools, too. In the landmark 1969 case Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School District, students sued because they had gotten suspended for wearing black armbands to protest the Vietnam War. The Supreme Court decided that it would be as tyrannical to prevent students from expressing political opinions within public schools as it would be in any other government establishments. The Court said students don’t “shed their constitutional rights to freedom of speech or expression at the schoolhouse gate.” In 1948, McCollum v. Board of Education had decided that public schools can’t give religious instruction during the school day. In 1962, Engel v. Vitale decided they can’t make students pray (Pew Research Center, 2019). Public school dress codes often aren’t as fair as they should be, but for the most part, their students can wear what they want and what their parents allow.
In contrast, what are known as charter schools in the US are privately owned, so they’re allowed to have requirements or education goals which would be considered a violation of the First Amendment. Some of them have religious affiliations and may be owned or operated by religious organizations. This can affect the way the school is run. For example, Oklahoma charter St. Isidore of Seville Catholic Virtual School has planned Catholic religious instruction classes, and the school’s active and intentional participation in what it refers to as “the evangelizing mission of the Church” (Fitzpatrick, 2023). Charter school dress codes can be much more strict. They are often segregated by gender stereotypes, forcing girls to wear skirts and boys trousers, no exceptions. This has been challenged in some places against specific schools, such as in North Carolina earlier this year in a lawsuit against the Charter Day School Inc (Chung, 2023). These challenges are the outlier and not the norm, however; gender-segregated dress codes are still a very common practice for charter schools overall. Charter schools also require applications and choose students based on random lottery systems. However, studies find that charter schools are more likely to ignore parents inquiring about the enrollment process if the student has a disability or other special needs (Darville, 2018). Unlike public schools, they don’t welcome everyone.
The freedom of expression in public schools is important for transgender students. In 2020, the case ​​G.G. v. Gloucester County School Board decided in favor of transgender-friendly restroom policies in high schools. This precedent helps protect transgender students’ rights in public schools, but doesn’t apply to charter schools. During the course of the case, the Conservative Legal Defense and Education Fund told the Court why to decide against transgender rights. In an effort to invalidate transgender people, the Fund compared transgender people to otherkin. The Fund used the word “otherkin,” and described them at length, mostly accurately but derisively (Brief Amicus Curiae, 2017, G.G. v. Gloucester Cty Sch Bd). This case was part of what inspired the Republicans to later make up the litter box urban legend. We don’t know if that particular brief inspired the legend too.
Republicans may be promoting charter schools because this would give them greater control over impressing their views about gender, religion, and politics on young generations. They may be undermining public schools because the separation of church and state limits their power to do so there. The urban legend and these bills are part of that.
Background about all of the furry bills and the urban legend that inspired them
To learn about this year’s first two anti-furry bills, read our post about them from last week (Scribner and Sol, 2024). That post also summarizes the four anti-furry bills last year, and the litter box urban legend. For further information about those aspects, you can watch our lecture about last year’s bills and what you do about bad bills (Chimeras, Scribner, and Shepard, 2023), and watch Chimeras’s lecture about the litter box urban legend (Chimeras, 2022).
What happens next with Reisch’s anti-furry bill?
The bill is at 25% progression toward becoming a law. The House heard the bill twice, but it hasn’t been voted on. At the time that we write this blog post, they haven’t scheduled the bill’s next hearing.
About the writers of this blog post
We are Orion Scribner (they/them) and N. Noel Sol (she/they), a couple of dragons. We never write articles with the assistance of procedural generation or so-called artificial intelligence (AI), and that type of content isn’t allowed on Otherkin News.
References
“Brief Amicus Curiae of Public Advocate of the United States, U.S. Justice Foundation, and Conservative Legal Defense and Education Fund in Support of Petitioner.” Gloucester County School Bd. v. G. G. ex rel. Grimm, No. 16-273, 2017 WL 192454 (Jan. 10, 2017). http://files.eqcf.org/cases/16-273-amicus-brief-public-advocate-et-al/
Central MO Info (May 19, 2023). “Representative Toalson Reisch Disappointed in Senate’s Version of Trans Bills.” Central MO Info. https://www.centralmoinfo.com/representative-toalson-reisch-disappointed-in-senates-version-of-trans-bills/
Chung, Andrew (June 26, 2024). “US Supreme Court turns away case on charter school's mandatory skirts for girls.” Reuters. https://www.reuters.com/legal/us-supreme-court-turns-away-case-charter-schools-mandatory-skirts-girls-2023-06-26
Darville, Sarah (Dec. 21, 2018). “Want a charter school application? If your child has a disability, your questions more likely to be ignored, study finds.” Chalkbeat. https://www.chalkbeat.org/2018/12/21/21106398/want-a-charter-school-application-if-your-child-has-a-disability-your-questions-more-likely-to-be-ig/
Engel v. Vitale, 370 U.S. 421 (1962). https://caselaw.findlaw.com/court/us-supreme-court/370/421.html
Fitzpatrick, Cara (Sept. 9, 2023). “The Charter-School Movement’s New Divide.” The Atlantic. https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2023/09/charter-schools-religion-public-secular/675293/
G.G. v. Gloucester County School Board. 972 F.3d 586 (4th Cir. 2020). https://casetext.com/case/grimm-v-gloucester-cnty-sch-bd-8
House of Chimeras (Aug. 12, 2022). "Litter Boxes in School Bathrooms: Dissecting the Alt-Right’s Current Moral Panic." OtherCon. https://youtu.be/WVjXOmN2IlU
House of Chimeras, Orion Scribner, and Page Shepard (2023). “Litter Box Hoax 2: Legislature Boogaloo.” OtherCon 2023. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lsXy_ctC4Jc&t=1425s
Legiscan. MO HB 2678. https://legiscan.com/MO/bill/HB2678/2024
Legiscan. MO HB 1941. https://legiscan.com/MO/bill/HB1941/2024
Mccollum v. Board Of Education, 333 U.S. 203 (1948). https://caselaw.findlaw.com/court/us-supreme-court/333/203.html
McKinney, Rodger (Aug. 25, 2022). “State Rep. Cheri Reisch criticized for 'unwarranted' claim that CPS students use litterboxes.” Columbia Daily Tribune. https://www.columbiatribune.com/story/news/politics/elections/local/2022/08/25/state-rep-cheri-reisch-criticized-for-unwarranted-claim-that-cps-columbia-students-use-litterboxes/7895082001/
McKinney, Rodger (Feb. 6, 2022). “State Rep. Cheri Reisch states 'Columbia sucks' when referring to public schools in education hearing” Columbia Daily Tribune. https://www.columbiatribune.com/story/news/education/2022/02/06/cheri-reisch-states-columbia-sucks-when-referring-to-cps-in-education-hearing-mo-leg-basye/6662719001/
Missouri House of Representatives. MO HB 2678. https://house.mo.gov/Bill.aspx?bill=HB2678&year=2024&code=R
Missouri Senate. MO SB 49. https://www.senate.mo.gov/23info/BTS_Web/Bill.aspx?SessionType=R&BillID=44407
Missouri Senate. MO SB 39. https://senate.mo.gov/23info/BTS_Web/Bill.aspx?SessionType=R&BillID=44496
Palma, Bethania. (January 30, 2023). “How Furries Got Swept Up in Anti-Trans 'Litter Box' Rumors.” Snopes. https://www.snopes.com/news/2023/01/30/how-furries-got-swept-up-in-anti-trans-litter-box-rumors/ Archived on March 30, 2023. https://web.archive.org/web/20230330232007/https://www.snopes.com/news/2023/01/30/how-furries-got-swept-up-in-anti-trans-litter-box-rumors/
Pew Research Center (Oct. 3, 2019). “Religion in the Public Schools.” https://www.pewresearch.org/religion/2019/10/03/religion-in-the-public-schools-2019-update/
Reuters Fact Check (October 18, 2022). “Fact Check-No evidence of schools accommodating ‘furries’ with litter boxes.” https://www.reuters.com/article/factcheck-furries-rogan-litterbox-idUSL1N31J1KT Archived February 13, 2023. https://web.archive.org/web/20230213110524/https://www.reuters.com/article/factcheck-furries-rogan-litterbox-idUSL1N31J1KT
Scribner, Orion, and N. Noel Sol (Feb. 9, 2024). “Will Oklahoma Call Animal Control on Students?” Otherkin News. https://otherkinnews.dreamwidth.org/92680.html Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School District, 393 U.S. 503 (1969). https://openjurist.org/393/us/503
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2nd2ndalto · 8 months
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You Deserve a Break Today
I started this months ago and finally hauled it out to finish it this week. Inspired by this post from @coldbasementruins:
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Will is halfway up a ladder in the storeroom when he hears raised voices from the front of the restaurant. He sighs, frustrated. This is usually a quiet point in the day, and he'd been hoping to get some work done. As he climbs down and makes his way to the front counter, Will notes that the raised voice is Octavian's. Not a complete surprise.
Octavian's not a bad employee, exactly. But he tends to get too caught up in minutiae, often at the expense of getting along with his colleagues. And sometimes the customers.
On one level, Will get it. Customer service can be a bitch. But while Will doesn't want to manage this McDonalds for the rest of his life, that's no reason to be a dick about it while he's here.
"Hey Octavian," Will says mildly, sidling up to the murderous-looking young man at the front counter. "What's up?"
"This customer," (Octavian says the word as one might say pedophile, and Will restrains himself from rolling his eyes) "wants to order a Happy Meal."
"Yeah, and?" Will says tiredly.
"Just look at him," Octavian hisses.
Will does, and... wow, he's really pretty. Like, breathtaking. All dark wide eyes and delicate features and glossy dark hair falling into his face. Will realizes he’s staring and quickly wrenches his gaze back to Octavian.
"Well?" Octavian asks.
"Well, uh... well what?" Will stammers, trying to collect himself. He's pretty sure Octavian didn't just want him to see how hot this guy is. But he's having trouble remembering the other reason. Because, like, Will's heard people described as breathtaking before. But he's never experienced it quite so... immersively. He feels lightheaded.
"Happy Meals are for children. He’s not a child," Octavian seethes.
"He's - you..." Will squeezes the bridge of his nose. "Octavian, look. Why don't you head into the back and help Kayla with the shipment?" Will says, keeping his tone as even as he can manage. "I'll take over up here."
Octavian shoots one more dark look at the poor (gorgeous, flawless) boy standing on the other side of the counter, but he complies.
Will sighs, turning back to the dark-haired boy. God, those eyes are incredibly distracting. What was he going to say again?
Will clears his throat. "You will have a Happy Meal," Will announces, too loud, too bossy.
The boy looks startled, and two customers seated at a nearby table turn their heads in surprise.
Shit.
"Um. I mean. Would you like a Happy Meal?" Will cringes. He can feel his ears burning, and fervently hopes he can finish this interaction before the flush spreads to his entire face.
"Um, yeah. If that's okay," the boy says tentatively. "Cheeseburger?"
"Yeah, of course," Will shakes his head, punching in the order. "I'm sorry about..." he waves his hand vaguely in the direction that Octavian disappeared. "I'm sorry about Octavian. Just between you and me, he’s... well, he might not be cut out for customer service," Will admits.
The boy lets out a small laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking up and Jesus he's even prettier when he smiles. This really isn’t fair. Will has a restaurant to run, for god's sake.
“Book or toy?” Will asks weakly.
“Um. Toy,” the boy answers, sounding a little embarrassed. “I’m uh… I’m trying to get Squirtle.” He nods towards the display of miniature Pokemon stuffies.
Will grins. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The boy ducks his head, looking shy. “Thanks.” He pulls out his wallet.
“Oh, no,” Will waves him off. “It’s on the house. Don’t worry about it.”
It’s the least he can do after this poor guy had to deal with Octavian, right? That’s definitely the only reason.
The boy glances back up, surprised. “Thank you,” he says. His gaze lingers on Will a moment longer. It’s magnetic, mesmerizing. Will realizes he’s not breathing.
“I’ll uh - I’ll bring it out to you,” Will manages. “Go… make yourself at home.” He gestures to the seating area.
Make yourself at home, Will’s brain helpfully echoes as he walks back to the kitchen. What a stupid fucking thing to say.
It’s Austin who catches him with his forehead pressed to the cool tile wall next to the walk-in cooler.
Austin chuckles. “Octavian getting to you?”
Will turns, a little desperate. “Yeah. I mean, always. But there’s… there’s this really cute guy,” he chokes, waving vaguely towards the front of the restaurant.
Austin shrugs. “So ask for his number.”
“But he’s a customer. Isn’t that like… it seems… unethical,” Will protests.
“Will.” Austin grabs him by the shoulders. “This is a McDonalds. It’s not like you’re his doctor.”
But after a brief and intense internal battle, Will finds he just… can’t.
He does find the Squirtle, though, after a panicked search through the storeroom. He throws in an apple pie for good measure. Hovering surreptitiously behind the coffee machines, Will delights in the smile that blooms on the boy’s face as he opens the Happy Meal box.
Will’s just kicking himself for the dozenth time for being a chicken and an idiot as he grabs a cloth and spray bottle and heads out to wipe tables. Mostly to get further away from the growing tension between Octavian and Kayla.
He scans the restaurant, his heart sinking a little when he realizes it’s empty. Not that he likely would have worked up the nerve to ask the boy for his number this time, either.
But then a hand catches his arm, gentle. Will whirls, nearly losing his balance.
Dark eyes widen in dismay and the boy tightens his grip as Will rights himself.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he says.
Will’s already shaking his head, his face heating. “No, it’s fine. I’m… a little twitchy.”
And there’s that heartstopping smile again. Jesus Christ.
Will swallows. “Is um - is everything okay? “Was there a problem with your meal?”
“No, it was great,” the boy says. “Um...” He holds Will’s gaze again, all dark liquid eyes and long lashes. It feels like falling. Like flying.
The boy’s nose scrunches adorably. “This might sound stupid,” he says, “but I was having a really shitty day - I failed a chem exam and my roommate nearly burnt down our apartment last night. And then with your co-worker there –” he continues, and Will interrupts.
“Fuck. I’m so sorry about that –”
“No,” the boy shakes his head, smiling. “I just wanted to say - I thought that was going to be the last straw and I was going to burst into tears in the middle of a McDonalds. But then you - you were just…” He swallows, his brow furrowed. “Thanks for being nice to me,” he finishes softly. “It might not seem like much, but… it meant a lot.”
“Oh.” Will smiles. “Sure. Of course. I’m glad I could help.”
Now that they’re standing without a counter between them, Will realizes that the other boy is almost a head shorter than him. He’s slight-shouldered and slim, and though he’s a little intimidating in his leather jacket and combat boots, there’s something undeniably soft about him. Will kind of wants to pull him into his arms and smell his hair. Or maybe shove him up against the muffin display and kiss him senseless. But that would be really unprofessional. Probably.
The boy takes a deep breath, shifting nervously. “This might sound stupid too, and please don’t feel bad about saying no, but um. Would you maybe want to go out sometime? With me?”
Will can feel himself grinning like an absolute idiot. “Yeah,” he says. “I would.”
“Okay, cool,” the other boy breathes, looking relieved.
“I’m Nico, by the way,” he says as they exchange numbers.
“Nico.” Will repeats, smiling. Nico. He likes the way the name feels on his tongue. Nico. He’d like to say it a lot, he thinks.
“I’m Will,” Will says, tapping his nametag.
Nico smiles shyly. “Yeah. I noticed.” He sticks out his hand, like he’s suddenly remembered to do it. “Nice to meet you.”
Nico’s hand is warm. A bit smaller than Will’s. It’s stupid to think so, but it feels as if they fit perfectly together.
“Um…” Will begins, gazing again into those dark eyes. But then there’s a crash and a shout from the back, and Will sighs, not really sure what he was going to say anyway.
Nico grimaces. “I should let you go.”
“Yeah,” Will says reluctantly. He glances at his watch. “Ninety-two more minutes.”
Nico laughs. “You could text me when you’re done. Like, if you wanted to.”
Will beams.
As he makes his way towards the sound of raised voices in the back of the restaurant, he muses that shifts with Octavian are almost always eventful. But he doesn’t mind how this one has turned out in the least.
~~~~~
Notes:
Thank you @coldbasementruins for the prompt!
I've never worked at a McDonalds. I do eat there too often.
This was supposed to be 1000 words! It is not.
Thanks for reading!
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dnffics-archive · 2 months
Text
A Loving Feeling
by xshittylialife
Rated G, 4.5k words
Tags: Future Fic, First Kiss, Slice of Life, Idiots in Love, Getting Together
Summary:
Dream breaths for the first time in years and with a clear mind he thinks: fuck, I bought him a ring. We're not even dating.
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whimsicalmeerkat · 3 months
Text
scorch, value, embarrass - teen wolf
On AO3
Derek looks at the red & white striped sweater then back to his boyfriend. Stiles looks a mix of hopeful and guilty with a definite air of mischief.
“I wouldn’t dress up as Waldo even if it was Halloween, Stiles.”
“I think it has more of a candy cane look, myself.”
Derek just looks at him.
“Like you don’t always look scorching hot. It was on a great sale! I couldn’t pass up that kind of value. Think what that would do to my reputation! It would be downright embarrassing.”
“That would be embarrassing.”
“OK, fine,” Stiles huffs.
Derek smiles, victorious.
~
Written for @sterekdrabbles for the 12/15/2023 challenge words “scorch, value, embarrass”.
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