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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

Note

Hello! I'm in love with the way you write c! Ranboo like hsgsj- amazing! So I would like a request Yandare c! Ranboo and tubbo with a soft reader that is oblivious on how they act twords them but loves them unconditionaly (just fluff please maybe maybe put a Micheal seen in there as well because Micheal is the best character 😌)

I think this is the best compliment I have ever received... Thank you so much🤍🖤

I didn't know whether or not to do headcanons or a full-length fic, so I went with a shorter story if that's alright. ^^ if it's not feel free to send another request!

FYI THIS CAN BE SEEN AS PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!C!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo

It was very common for you to see something out of the corner of your eye, but when you looked, you only saw a bunch of purple particles drifting slowly towards the earth due to gravity. You just assumed there were quite a few endermen still hanging around Snowchester, or some of the goats had come down from the mountains when you saw small little horns peeking out from behind bushes.

There were a couple times a day where you accidentally and very conveniently bumped into Ranboo out in the crater of L'Manberg or Tubbo when walking around Snowchester. It honestly was funny to you that you always seemed to bump into them when you were feeling sad or lonely. Plus, after talking to them and spending time with them, your problems almost magically seemed to disappear!

Such as, there was one time when you were helping clean up the red vines around buildings and Fundy was nagging at you for being so slow or bad at doing everything. After storming away and ranting to Ranboo about it on the verge of tears, Fundy practically scrambled up to you the next day shaking and almost crying, apologizing for every single thing he's ever said or done.

Huh... Maybe he felt that bad about it to the point where he was crying?

Although Fundy never said anything mean to you again, he also stopped hanging around you completely.

When you mentioned this to Tubbo, he explained that Fundy must not have been a real friend and that he and Ranboo would always be there for you before anyone else.

Once the mansion was built, the two platonic husbands eagerly invited you to stay with them, even saying they had Foolish make a room specifically for you! At first, you quite enjoyed your home around L'manberg, but then one day you returned home to a wall of your home completely destroyed by vines, deeming it unlivable. Although a tad convenient..

Tubbo and Ranboo had heard about it through your sobs when you called them, saying you had no clue what to do anymore. They had arrived at your side in almost minutes and quickly helped you pack and move everything to the mansion.

"I thought Snowchester was like... Half a day's walk away from here..." You sniffed, rubbing your red and puffy eyes. The two men of greatly varying heights tensed up momentarily.

"We were in the area." They both blurted out at the same time before glancing at each other.

Tubbo cleared his throat first, "I was in the nether, but luckily for you, I was close to the old L'manberg portal!" He smiled softly at you as you three walked away from your old home.

"M-Me too!" Ranboo coughed awkwardly, causing Tubbo to shoot him an odd look that you decided to brush off, "Now, uh, come on! Michael needs to meet his new mother!"

You blinked in surprise at the new title but didn't question it much, assuming it was simply just a title. Unbeknownst to you, your two best friends already thought you were part of their platonic relationship, despite you never agreeing nor denying, or them even asking.

It took a few days, but the zombie piglin warmed up to you and practically saw you as another one of his parents, which made Ranboo and Tubbo extremely happy. Instead of placing you into one of the regular rooms, they had Foolish turn the basement into two heavily secured rooms a few days before your house had been destroyed, strangely enough, and even designed one perfectly to your liking!

After washing the fruits you had, you walked towards the bookshelf and pulled on the fake book that caused the shelf to swing open. You walked down the quartz stairs after shutting the hidden door, then made your way up to one of the two doors with a pink sign with 'Michael' written in yellow cursive paint. Punching in the code, the iron door slid open and you stepped in before closing it behind you.

A loud cooing grunt was heard and the sound of quiet tapping echoed through the room before a pair of arms wrapped around your leg. "Hello, Michael." You giggled softly as Michael made grabbing hands up towards the bowl of fruit. Placing it down on the table, the child eagerly ran over and began munching on the food as you brushed over the books on the shelves to find one you haven't read to Michael before. "What about... The story of Persephone?"

A disappointed grunt was your only response.

"Guess I did read that one... Hm... Oh! What about the story of Icarus?" This time his response was a happy squeak and tippy taps of his hooves against the warm quartz floors. You sat down in the rocking chair and waited until the child scrambled over and jumped into your lap.

You opened the book and began reading to him for an hour until your eyes slowly slid shut to the quiet snores of the child of your two best friends, who at this point was beginning to see you as a mother.

Quiet 'meh' sounds and 'vrrr'ing noises and a dim flash woke you up from your spot in the rocking chair. Cracking open your eyes, your arms shifted around the nether hybrid as you saw Tubbo holding a camera making happy bleating noises, while Ranboo, who was the source of the buzzing noises, took the book you had been reading from your limp hand to put it back on the shelf.

"What time is it?" You murmured softly to keep the child asleep as you rubbed the back of your stiff and sore neck.

"It's about 5:30pm. Still rather early. Tubbo walked over and gave you a gentle yet affectionate headbutt while he scooped Michael up from your lap to bring him to bed. This caused an odd whining noise to come from the enderman hybrid before he quickly walked over and rested his forehead against yours, resting it there for a few moments before pulling back, his cheeks flushed the same colours as his eyes.

You giggled softly and gave him a gentle pat on the head as he helped you up. He held onto one of your hands as Tubbo eagerly went for the other, jokingly sticking his tongue out at Ranboo who gave a noise of mock offense, causing you three to giggle softly as you left Michael's room and went upstairs.

Tubbo and Ranboo weren't big fans of you leaving the basement on your own, and you were rarely allowed to leave the mansion even with the two boys at your sides. The former president told you it was because he heard rumours of Technoblade searching around for all the members of his cabinet back when he was in charge of L'Manberg, and he just wanted to protect you.

You saw no problems with his story as it was extremely believable. Your history with Technoblade hadn't been the cleanest and he would've definitely taken one of your canon lives back during the attack on L'Manberg, had a stray black and white firework not saved you that day. It had fired off and must've swerved a way that wasn't predicted, because it hit Technoblade hard enough in the chest to knock him away from you.

You don't remember much of that day, except for Ranboo immediately running over to you and dragging you away from the destruction and chaos. Thanks to him, you were almost completely scar free and standing proudly at three canons lives.

A gentle hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality and you saw two sets of eyes staring at you with concern. "Hey... Are you feeling okay?" Ranboo asked softly, tilting your head up to place his free hand against your forehead, "See. I told you she should be getting more sunlight, Tubbo!"

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" You laughed softly at their worry, rubbing your thumbs along the back of their hands, "Just... Remembering the war with Dream and Techno..."

"What about it?" Tubbo asked, bringing you into the living room to sit down with your friends on either side of you.

You pursed your lips together for a moment as you looked at the ground, "Just how... Scary Techno is. And how he was about to kill me without a care about who or what I was."

Angered growling and seething noises came from Ranboo and Tubbo as you felt their grasps tighten around your hands, almost to a painful degree. You looked up and saw their expressions stone-cold and steely although vastly different from each other.

Ranboo's green eye was purple, and the black tone of his skin was beginning to seep into the side with the lack of colour. The corners of his mouth were slowly splitting open wider and wider as his lips parted, allowing you to see the glowing purple colour inside his mouth.

Tubbo's was less obvious. His eyes were blank but also had a bright fire, one burning for revenge, reflected in them. His ears weren't flicking and neither was his tail, his entire body stiff except for a faint sound giving away the fact that his teeth were grinding together.

As much as you tried to endure it, the grip became too harsh and you couldn't help but give a small pained gasp. This caused all physical contact with you to suddenly vanish as the two boys immediately flung themselves away from you, horror and fear in their eyes.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"

"Are you okay?! Do you need an ice pack?!"

"Or a bandage from my claws?!"

They were both kneeling on the ground in front of you with both of your hands in their grasps again. They repeatedly turned your hands in their own, testing the joints and checking for marks or bruising. "Boys, boys!" You laughed softly, placing your hands on their heads to ruffle their hair gently. You pulled your left hand adorned with two beautiful rings and held it up for them to see, flexing it and moving it around, "See? Perfectly fine. No pain whatsoever!"

While they seemed to have calmed down a lot, they still seemed to be extremely upset and guilty. "I'm still going to get an ice pack... We don't want our wife to be injured..." Tubbo murmured as he quickly got up and walked towards the kitchen.

"I will get started on dinner. And as an apology, I'm making your favourite. (F/f)." Ranboo tried to be a little more upbeat than Tubbo, but you could still see the small amounts of guilt as he turned and followed after the goat hybrid.

Sighing softly at their overreactions, you leaned back against the couch...

Before doing a double-take.

Adorned with rings?!

You quickly flung yourself forward again and looked at your left hand. On your ring finger were two diamond rings, one gold with a green gemstone, and the other silver with a black gemstone, both glistening a faint purple from enchantments...

...

When did these get put on you- wait... Did Tubbo say... wife?

#tubbo x reader #yandere tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #yandere ranboo x reader #mcyt x reader #yandere mcyt x reader #mcyt #ranboolive #ranboo #tubbo #dream smp #dsmp #ranboo dsmp #ranboo dreamsmp #tubbo dsmp #tubbo dreamsmp #tubbo mcyt #ranboo mcyt

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icarushasfallenfromthestars · 3 years

Text

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!Tubbo

I think this is the best compliment I have ever received... Thank you so much🤍🖤

I didn't know whether or not to do headcanons or a full-length fic, so I went with a shorter story if that's alright. ^^ if it's not feel free to send another request!

FYI THIS CAN BE SEEN AS PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC

Huh... Maybe he felt that bad about it to the point where he was crying?

Although Fundy never said anything mean to you again, he also stopped hanging around you completely.

When you mentioned this to Tubbo, he explained that Fundy must not have been a real friend and that he and Ranboo would always be there for you before anyone else.

Once the mansion was built, the two platonic husbands eagerly invited you to stay with them, even saying they had Foolish make a room specifically for you! At first, you quite enjoyed your home around L'Manberg, but then one day you returned home to a wall of your home completely destroyed by vines, deeming it unlivable. Although a tad convenient..

"I thought Snowchester was like... Half a day's walk away from here..." You sniffed, rubbing your red and puffy eyes. The two men of greatly varying heights tensed up momentarily.

"We were in the area." They both blurted out at the same time before glancing at each other.

Tubbo cleared his throat first, "I was in the nether, but luckily for you, I was close to the old L'Manberg portal!" He smiled softly at you as you three walked away from your old home.

"M-Me too!" Ranboo coughed awkwardly, causing Tubbo to shoot him an odd look that you decided to brush off, "Now, uh, come on! Michael needs to meet his new mother!"

A disappointed grunt was your only response.

"What time is it?" You murmured softly to keep the child asleep as you rubbed the back of your stiff and sore neck.

You giggled softly and gave him a gentle pat on the head as he helped you up. He held onto one of your hands as Tubbo eagerly went for the other, jokingly sticking his tongue out at Ranboo who gave a noise of mock offence, causing you three to giggle softly as you left Michael's room and went upstairs.

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" You laughed softly at their worry, rubbing your thumbs along the back of their hands, "Just... Remembering the war with Dream and Techno..."

"What about it?" Tubbo asked, bringing you into the living room to sit down with your friends on either side of you.

You pursed your lips together for a moment as you looked at the ground, "Just how... Scary Techno is. And how he was about to kill me without a care about who or what I was."

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"

"Are you okay?! Do you need an ice pack?!"

"Or a bandage from my claws?!"

Sighing softly at their over reactions, you leaned back against the couch...

Before doing a double-take.

Adorned with rings?!

...

When did these get put on you- wait... Did Tubbo say... wife?

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halfway-happyyy · 3 years

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The one where Alexander takes his girl home to Sweden

First longer piece in a hot minute! inspired by this lovely ask. Thanks for looking, and as always feedback is always appreciated.

“They'd like to meet you, kid.”

Silence followed his statement and her bleary gaze travelled upwards to a patch of dust particles dancing in a strip of light from the parted bedroom curtain. She knew immediately who he was referring to, but that didn't mean she had to make it easy for him.

“You're going to have to be a bit more specific than that, Alex. The list of people who'd like to meet me is long and painfully distinguished.”

Alexander nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, the subtle scruff of his beard ticklish against her delicate skin. His exasperated groan was almost inaudible. “My family, smart-ass.”

There it was.

Grace had known that this conversation was coming soon; it loomed above her head like a raincloud. She could sense it in the way he spoke of Sweden recently, could sense it in the way his ocean-blue eyes lit up at the mere mention of his brothers and sister. God, even just the idea of it was almost too intimidating to bear. Where she had come from a small, slightly broken family, he had been born into an inexplicably close and loving one. Though each of them led vastly different lives in vastly different areas of the world, they gathered amongst themselves in the beautiful country of Sweden multiple times throughout the year, and it would always be home base for him. She found the notion of it wonderful and jealousy-inducing in equal measure. She traced a feather-light fingertip down the bridge of his nose and marveled at the subtle flecks of gold amongst a sea of blue. Of all the things that she adored about his face, the deep creases next to his eyes were her favourite. They spoke novels of how much time the man spent smiling and the thought of it caused her heart to swell. “Your family doesn’t want to meet me, Alex. You want your family to meet me.” She murmured, finally.

Alexander clicked his tongue in mild protest. “That’s not true.” He took her hand in his and brought it to his mouth, brushing each of her knuckles with his lips. The warmth and sheer intimacy of the touch caused her to shiver violently and he grinned against her hand. Brushing a stray piece of hair from her face, he gazed at her for a while and finally whispered, “Come to Sweden with me, Grace.”

And partly because his soft voice bore the weight of recent sleep- but mostly because she always did have a particularly difficult time saying no to him, she squeezed his hand thrice and nodded her head. “Okay Alex.”

“We’re here, kid.” Alexander’s lips at her temple helped to rouse her from her gravol-induced coma and she hugged her sweater tighter to her frame as the temperature of the plane became apparent to her. He stood from his seat and stretched his arms high above his head to limber up after the lengthy flight. Opening the overhead compartment with ease, he brought down her carry-on and a single, worn duffle bag- the only piece of luggage he ever traveled with, and smiled expectantly at her. “You all set?”

Grace stifled a yawn and nodded her head, a slow, sleepy smile in place on her features. “Lead the way, my love.” She had expected a certain amount of fanfare upon exit of the terminal- she could not recount a time in recent memory where there had not been a fury of cameras and photographers upon arrival. Strangely, and most welcomely, Arlanda airport was completely void of both.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Alexander grinned.

She struggled to keep up with his hasty stride though the terminals- something she lovingly referred to as his airport walk. “It’s lovely.” She mused.

It was late into the evening when they finished grabbing her bag from the carousel and stepped out into the balmy Stockholm evening. Alexander’s brother Sam was already waiting for them a few cars ahead in the cue, leant against the side of a dark sedan, one long, denim-clad leg crossed over the other. “Hej hej!” He called out to them and stood from the car to wrap his arms around Alexander. They parted a few moments later, laughing at something indistinguishable. “Good to see you again, brother.” Sam beamed. “And you must be Grace…” He turned to her; a long pair of arms beckoned her forward for an embrace which she happily obliged. She was amused to discover that like Alexander, she needed to reach on tiptoes to hug the younger Skarsgård properly. She had known them to be a tall breed of men, but this? Sam broke away to gesture to the vehicle with a toothy grin. “Let’s get you two home, hm? Mum can’t wait another hour longer.”

Though the inky evening sky cloaked all of Stockholm in darkness, Grace was in utter awe of the city in which she was currently being given a rapid grand-tour of. Alexander pointed out important buildings on his left, and Sam managed to cover everything on the right side of the vehicle. She remained dazzled by the bright, twinkling lights, and was amazed at how breathtaking the city was at night. “Just wait until tomorrow, Grace.” Sam glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror and grinned.

“We’re here, my love.” Alexander uttered for the second time that evening, as the vehicle rolled to a halt in front of their mother’s house in the south of the city. A quick glance at the clock above the car radio told her that it was just past twelve thirty in the morning, and she was surprised to see My wide awake and waiting on the porch for them. Grace swallowed hard and found that her mouth was suddenly void of all moisture, nerves churning in her belly like clothing in a washing machine. Sensing the sudden shift in her mood, Alexander exited the car and came around to her side, opening the door and crouching down to her level. “Look at me kid.” He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, kissing her slightly clammy palm. “No need to be nervous, hm? They’re going to love you.”

Taking a deep breath, Grace smiled down at him and ventured around to the boot of the car where Sam was in the process of hauling out their luggage. “Can I help you with those?” She offered.

Sam shook his head, that same boyish grin from an hour ago still split his face in two. “Nah, there’s not much here,” He gestured over to his mother with a jut of his chin. “Besides, she’s been waiting weeks to see you both. Go on.”

Alexander waited for her at the bottom of the stone path, his hand outstretched and poised to take hers. They traversed the path together, the warmth from his hand radiated into hers and helped to calm her frayed nerves immensely. “Hi mum.” Alexander grinned when they reached her.

My’s beautiful face broke into a wide grin and Grace knew right then that Sam had come by that wonderful smile honestly. Their mother, confusingly short in comparison to her two sons, reached up on tiptoes to cradle Alexander’s face in her hands and kiss both of his cheeks passionately. He reveled in her touch, but when his time was up, he stood back to make room for Grace. My embraced her exactly as she had her son, and though she could most certainly attribute it to impending jet lag, a lump of raw emotion rose in the hollow of her throat as My kissed her cheeks. She pulled back and gave Grace's arms a warm squeeze. “So happy to finally have you both here. Please, come in.”

Once situated inside the cozy, utterly lived-in home, Grace immediately felt the tension dissipate from her limbs. On her way back to the living room after putting away her belongings in the spare room, she found herself stopped in awe in the hallway. Pictures of the family adorned almost every square inch of wall space, and inexplicably, Grace's throat constricted and she felt the familiar prickle of tears behind her eyes again.

“There you are,” Alexander smiled when he spotted her. Wordlessly, he settled beside her and reached for her hand, bringing the back of it to his lips. “You okay, kid?”

She turned to him, saltwater glittering threateningly in the depths of her eyes, and smiled. “There's so much love here, Alex.” She trailed a finger over the edge of a wooden picture frame. The photograph inside depicted six beautiful, smiling children, each of varying ages. “It's so palpable. It's in the very air we breathe right now… like magic.” Alexander hummed contentedly and bent forward to kiss the top of her head. “I want a home like this someday…” She mused.

Alexander squeezed her hand thrice and placed another kiss to the top of her head. “Someday you will.”

After a midnight snack of lingonberry jam and toast and a glass of wine to wind down from the day’s events, Grace drifted off to sleep on Alexander’s shoulder at the kitchen table. She had fought it for as long as her body would let her, but the calming lilt of muted conversation in their native tongue caused her eyelids to grow increasingly heavy until they eventually gave in to slumber altogether. Alexander must have carried her to their room, because when her eyes opened six and a half hours later, she was tucked up in the guestroom bed. Her desire to move had been nonexistent until the scent of coffee and fresh pastries found her, and her mouth watered hungrily for them. Stretching her arms above her head, she stifled a yawn and shivered as her bare feet touched the cool, hardwood flooring. She took a few moments to study the room in which she would be spending the next two weeks. The walls were washed in a pale, robins-egg blue and with an unexpected pang, it reminded her of her grandparent’s guest room in their old house back home. She gazed at the folk artwork adorning the walls, and at the wicker furniture dispersed around the room and she decided then that this could be her home for rest of her life, and she wouldn't complain one bit about it. Changing into a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, she threw a knit cardigan over her exposed arms and padded out into the hallway outside her door. She hadn't meant for it to happen, but she stopped again in front of the dozens of picture frames and gazed at them for a long while.

Grace peered at a black and white photograph of Alexander as a child, grinning wide and standing tall above a younger looking My. “And just imagine that he ended being arguably the most attractive one out of all of us.” A beautiful voice, utterly melodic as it flowed from her mouth- bore a teasing lilt and caused Grace to startle on the spot.

She glanced over at the woman next to her, a spitting image of her mother, she had seen photos of her face several times in the past, but nothing could prepare her for the natural beauty that Alexander’s sister possessed. It was ethereal- like sunshine through a glass window and Grace smiled at her. “No, I doubt anyone would argue with me if I said that you won that one hands down.”

Eija tilted her head back as laughter bubbled up from the base of her throat like a pretty song. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Grace.” They chatted contentedly for the next few minutes before the allure of coffee and food became too strong, and Eija escorted Grace to the kitchen. Alexander was seated at the end of the wooden table, arms crossed over his t shirt clad chest, and in deep conversation with Sam. “How do you take your coffee, Grace?” Eija asked and reached on tiptoes for a mug at the back of the open cupboard.

“Uh, black please,” Grace could not make out what was being said, but the tone of her boyfriend’s voice had changed drastically over the course of only a few seconds and she frowned. “Are they arguing?” She whispered.

Eija dropped back onto the balls of her feet and shook her head no, her ruby-red lips quirked up into a half-smirk. “No. But they are talking politics.” She set to work brewing what to Grace, smelled like the world’s best cup of coffee and winked at her, her glassy blue eyes glittering mischievously in the bright, sunlit kitchen. “Just wait until dinner tonight… we are a large, highly opinionated family and there is plenty more where that came from.”

Grace's day had been so packed with activity that she had hardly been allotted moment to agonize over the looming family dinner. She knew deep down that there was nothing to be nervous about- that she intended on spending the rest of her life with Alexander, and that if she was lucky enough, his family would become her family too. But there was a lot of them, and the pressure to make a good impression weighed heavily on her. “You okay over there?” Alexander sidled up behind her in front of the full-length guest room mirror, resting his chin atop her head. “You’ve got your 'over-thinking-everything' face on.” She frowned back at him. “It’s still the most beautiful face in the world, kid. But I’ve known you far too long now to know when something’s on your mind.”

She cocked her head to the side and gazed at him. She couldn't pin-point exactly when the change had occured, but she could read his face like her favourite book now. Knew where scars had started, knew the precise location of dustings of freckles. She knew what to say to make him smile, what to say to make him frown. Somehow, the stars had aligned, and she had met him and now here she was, in his home country, moments away from meeting the entirety of his family. She took a deep, steadying breath and tilted her face up to kiss the underside of his stubbled jaw. “I love you Alex.”

“I love you endlessly, Grace.”

She had been slightly taken aback at the lack of distance that existed between Alexander’s parents’ houses. She had known that they had been able to remain better friends than ever after the divorce but living within walking distance of each other seemed unheard of to Grace. Perhaps that was because her parents could hardly manage a simple hello to each other after the dust had settled.

Stellan Skarsgård’s silhouette- stark against the bright light emanating from the house behind him, stood leant against the front pillar of his porch, a full glass of red wine wedged within his grasp, which he lifted in greeting when he caught site of the emerging clan. He embraced Alexander, Eija, and My as if it was the last time he would ever have the chance to do it again, and when his gaze fell on Grace’s, he handed his wine to Alexander and pulled her in for a near-crushing embrace. When he drew back, he was absolutely beaming at her. “Grace, it is an absolute pleasure to finally put a face to the name that our Alex here, has spoken novels of. Please, come in and make yourself at home.” It was an undeniably busy house, chock-full of intentional laughter, bits and pieces of Swedish conversation, and the enticing scent of a mouth-watering feast. Grace was sat wedged between Alexander and Valter at the dinner table and was awed at how much the youngest of the boys resembled Eija, and she was surprised to note that his sass rivalled hers as well. Once the chatter had dwindled to a level white noise, Stellan rose from his seat at the head of the table and cleared his throat. “Ehm, I don’t normally make these kinds of announcements before a dinner, but tonight is a special one.” He gestured with his near-empty glass to Grace, and she felt her cheeks burn hot under the sudden onslaught of attention. “Tonight, we drink to good health, we drink to family, and we drink to our lovely, newfound Grace. Cheers, everyone.”

“Cheers to you, my love.” Alexander whispered and pressed a kiss to her temple.

Grace ate until she could not fathom scooping one more morsel of delicious food onto her plate, and she leaned back and took a deep breath, all too content to watch everyone converse and unwind from the wonderful meal they had all just experienced. After dessert, Alexander excused himself to join a heated debate at the end of the table with Eija and Valter. To her surprise, Stellan took the empty seat next to her, wordlessly topping up her empty glass. “My and I worked hard to teach them everything they know,” He murmured, blue gaze scanning the happy faces around him. “We tried to instill in them as children to question everything- and each one of them has become perspicacious, opinionated, conversationalists because of it.”

The way he spoke of his children- the obvious love and adoration he had for them caused Grace’s heart to swell in her chest and she smiled softly at him. “You both must be so proud of them.”

Stellan’s eyes twinkled in the low light of the lamps scattered around the dining room and he nodded his head slowly. “Very proud. Always.” He took another sip of his wine and turned to Grace. “I know I mentioned it already this evening but having you here in Sweden really is such a treat for all of us,” Grace’s cheeks grew pink again and she took another hearty sip of wine, savoring the slighty bitter tannin on her tongue before she swallowed, and offered him up a small smile. “Alex is an extraordinary creature, Grace. Loud and boisterous- and deeply sensitive. Almost to a fault. But humor and compassion for other people beyond all measure. Just the absolute best parts of his mother and I,” He finished off the rest of his glass and set it against the wooden tabletop with a dull thud. “He’s never brought a partner home to Sweden before, and I can’t help but be elated that it’s you he’s chosen to bring to us.”

Grace verged the edge of speechless at the sudden revelation and she swallowed hard, the kind words almost too much to comprehend. “The pleasure has been all mine, truly.” Before getting up to leave, Stellan bent down to her level and pressed a quick kiss to the apple of her cheek.

Alexander appeared next to Grace an hour later, the apples of his cheeks rosy from happiness, and the wine consumed. "Come dance with me."

Grace had just finished an in-depth conversation with Eija and cocked an eyebrow in surprise. “Right now?”

He nodded his head, his sandy blonde hair disheveled now and hanging over an eye. “Yes, right now.” He extended a hand out for her to take, which she obliged, hesitantly. He led her to a second room off the one they had just been in, and a record player sat playing on a glass table in the corner.

“Your lips are stained purple with syrah,” She giggled.

Alexander brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “Are you having a good night, kid?”

Grace smiled and rested her cheek against his chest as they swayed along to a Bob Dylan song in the background. She reveled in the heat emanating from him, and in the familiar feeling of his heartbeat against her cheek. “I’m having a wonderful night, Alex. Sweden- your family, are a dream.” The opening chords to Girl from the North Country could be heard above the crackle of the record player, and Grace gazed up at Alexander from under enviously long lashes. “God, I love this song,” She murmured wistfully. “Hope to dance to it my wedding someday.”

Alexander held her tighter to him, oblivious to Stellan and My who were now stood side by side and watching them from the other room. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle earnestly, knowing that one day soon he would be making that dream a reality. “Someday you will, Grace.”

@awaterfalls

#alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagines #alexander skarsgard fluff #fluff #writing #alex sstuff #disclaimer: i havent been to sweden yet so please dont drag me #who is grace??#idk but i felt like reader needed a name for this one so bear with me folks #alexander skarsgård

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mnictasbcl · 3 years

Text

Life’s beauty

For #dbhcolorsofdeviancy, prompt:

June 9th: The feeling of being alive @connor-sent-by-cyberlife

Rating: Teen

Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson

Relationships: Connor & Hank Anderson

Additional Tags: Fluff, Break, Swearing, Cabin, Woods, no not a cabin in the woods this is fluff lads, Beauty of nature, Fishing, Sensory detail,

Summary: After the Revolution, Connor had done nothing but work. Hank decides to take him away to the beauty of nature, to truly realise the feeling of being alive.

Story below! Or, read it on AO3

The androids fought, they won, they became free. In the weeks proceeding the revolution, Jericho’s sole goal was getting sorted the rights of androids so that deviants could truly be as human as they wanted to. Connor was involved in some of the proceedings, helping Markus word and practice his speeches, aiding North with logistical things and tasks to help with the thousands of homeless deviants seeking shelter. But as soon as the right was agreed that androids could work and earn a salary as humans do, Connor was right back at Hank’s side, working at the DPD. After all, whilst his help was needed in Jericho, he could be of much more use on the police force, especially given the rising numbers of hate crimes towards androids following the revolution.

Besides, it was nice to get back into a familiar routine, minus the all-seeing, all-knowing control of Cyberlife hanging over his head.

So, the months progressed. Connor worked as partners with Hank at the DPD, and the two were an unstoppable force, what given their bond and skills around deviancy. More rights were being fought for them in the background. Soon, androids were almost treated, at least by law, as equally as humans. They could not be discriminated against, not hurt, they could work, they could buy property, they could start families- everything. Months after the revolution, and things were looking bright on the horizon.

This didn’t mean that the hatred against androids all out stopped. However, crimes were slowly but surely falling, what with the consequences for committing them becoming stronger by the day. This left slightly less work for the DPD to sort out.

However, when Hank woke up one morning and decided he wanted some time off, Connor was still a little confused.

“Are you quite alright, Lieutenant?”

Hank groaned. “For the last time, it’s… never mind.” He paused, placing his coffee mug back on the kitchen table. “Why’d you ask, though?”

Connor shrugged. “I just wondered whether you needed the time off to rest, or recuperate, perhaps—”

The man shook his head. “You don’t always need a reason to take some time off, Connor. It’s been pretty hectic these past few months at the DPD and I just thought it was time for some change around here. Sumo’s barely seen us.”

“Alright.” He nodded, “But I will have to arrange with Fowler what partner I will be assigned whilst you are away.”

“Whoa whoa, who said you couldn’t use a break too?”

“I do not require breaks. I perform stasis every night and—”

“Don’t you just want to… to be out there?” Hank questioned, rather vaguely, Connor thought with a furrow of his brows. “Go out and do things. I mean, now that Markus and crew have got all those fancy rights for you all, I thought you’d want to go and experience them.”

Connor straightened his tie. “I already am, Lieutenant. Captain Fowler is paying me above minimum wage, and last week, Gavin managed to restrain himself from insulting me.”

Hank smirked. “Oh boy. Not exactly what I meant. Look- I’m not going to force you, but I’m offering: we take a week or so off work, I’ll show you some sights, or we can just stay at home and spoil Sumo, whatever you want. I just want to see you have fun, kid.”

Connor blinked. His LED briefly flashed yellow, processing. Eventually, he nodded. Perhaps the Lieutenant’s words had some reason to them. Aside from a couple of weeks after the revolution, he hadn’t done much outside of work. Of course, it hadn’t struck him as odd. Even with his new status as deviant, which came with its differences, such as emotions and connections with other people, he’d been used to constantly working, following orders, completing tasks, completing the mission. But maybe he could now benefit from not having anything to do other than… what was it… Be out there, as Hank had put it.

“Okay.” He agreed, LED circling back to blue. “Perhaps some time away from the precinct would be optimal. However,” Connor added, glancing to the clock, “we had better get going for work today, lest Fowler relieve us of duty for good.”

Hank cursed, chugging back the rest of his coffee. But even with the time limit now imposed on their morning, Connor noticed he was a lot less grumpy about the rush to work.

___________________

Luckily, Fowler had allowed them the week off work, and the time between then was spent planning what activities they’d get done.

Connor was pleased to hear that it wouldn’t be full of travelling and going a multitude of different places. Whilst he was excited (excited? Yes, he supposed he felt a rush of happiness every time he thought about their trip) about seeing the world, he didn’t really feel up to seeing everything at once, and, besides, travelling for long amounts of time bored him. There was nothing to do but listen to the tinny radio on Hank’s car, playing either jazz or heavy metal rock music, and flick his coin back and forth between his hands (at least for a short amount of time, until it was confiscated from him for being ‘loud as fuck, Jesus Connor’).

Instead, they’d decided upon going to a cabin Hank had managed to rent for a fairly cheap price, somewhere in a wooded, natural area. It wasn’t so out of civilisation that they would struggle to get supplies lest they need them, but it was far enough away from the traffic of the city and the hustle and bustle of busy daily life.

Sadly, the journey was still fairly long, a couple of hours out. Luckily, though, Connor had brought five US quarters with him, each one stored in a different place on his outfit.

Hank looked long-suffering by the time he’d taken away the third coin.

“You’ve got another one, haven’t you.” It was less of a question, and more of a statement.

“Affirmative, Lieutenant. You advised me to pack the essentials.”

“Like clothes. Food. Water. Ah ah ah—don’t you get cocky with me and say they’re not essential for you. I know.” He sighed. Connor smirked. He could tell that Hank was mildly annoyed but not angry with him. He tried his best not to antagonise his fellow occupant in the car, but he just couldn’t help it—since deviating, something in him had changed whenever he had to sit in a long car journey.

Boredom, his mind supplied.

boredom /ˈbɔːdəm/

noun the state of feeling bored.

Connor chuckled softly at the definition his mind supplied. Firstly, it was… incredibly unhelpful. Secondly, he must be bored if he was subconsciously searching the definition of boredom itself.

He decided he would need to find a way to occupy his mind on the journey. For now, he didn’t think getting out his fourth coin to play with would be a good idea, since Hank was a bit on edge, and he needed some coins for the journey back. So, laying back in his seat, he took to looking out the window. It wasn’t too long before they arrived, he deduced from a scan of his surroundings. Things were changing vastly now. There were no tall and looming buildings like those in the city, no cars shooting by, horns blaring, people running up the streets, late to work. The city was alive, kind of beautiful in its own way, but nature, he began to notice, had its own sense of beauty. What with the trees lined up along the landscape, varying in shape and height, and in density of leaves and branches. The skies almost seemed clearer, more vibrantly blue and interspersed with soft white clouds. It was aesthetically pleasing, he noted, even if not sharing the geometry of lines and symmetry that the city held.

He whiled away the rest of the journey watching the sights go by, managing to stay stiller than he had the first half of the journey. It was awfully serene. Still, when they reached their destination, car pulling up on a dusty road, the cabin sitting by a pond in the distance, Connor was eager to leave the vehicle.

Connor helped eagerly with the bags, carrying a couple in each hand and waving off Hank’s requests to take some off him.

“I can manage, Lieutenant.”

“Show off.”

“I could also carry the two you have, if that would be of help.” He added, teasingly, to which the man flipped him off. Which then caused him to drop a bag with the change in hand positioning.

Connor couldn’t help it. He started to laugh, which wasn’t a good idea when he was holding four bags. His side started to ache a little, and he eventually had to drop a couple of the bags onto the floor in order to supress the stitch.

“That’s it, we’re going back home.” Hank made to walk back to the car, trying to act serious, but the fact that the android was still sniggering didn’t help things. “You’re a little shit, you know that, right?”

“I believe… I… believe you have referred to me as that multiple… times…” Connor got out between chuckles, before taking a few deep breaths, getting a hold of himself.

“Well, here’s one more to add to the list.” Hank remarked, reaching down to pick back up the bags, following after Connor as he headed towards the cabin.

There was a moment of confusion as they tried to figure how to get the front door unlocked, what with all the bags, until they realised it was already unlocked, Connor leaning against it and finding it swing open.

“That’s safe.”

“I do not detect any beings inside the residence.” Connor informed him after a quick scan of the cabin.

“You sure? No pigeons or squirrels made a little home for themselves up in the attic?”

Connor began to walk inside, glancing around in case his scans hadn’t been accurate, but shook his head upon reaching the living area. “I believe not. There is no attic.”

He heard a slight thud of a bag being dropped onto the floor, and snorted.

___________________

The first late afternoon and evening at the cabin was spent getting everything unpacked and homely in the cabin, and Connor cooking a healthy meal for Hank (“There’s no takeaway service out here, Lieutenant”).

After that, however, Connor awoke them bright and early the next morning, coming out of status around 7.30am and pulling open the curtains.

“As per our schedule, Lie—”

“Jesus Christ, Connor.” Hank groaned, a phrase the android had become accustomed to hearing. He cringed. Perhaps he’d forgotten that coming out of human rest was different to coming out of stasis. He pulled the curtains slightly to, so that it wasn’t blinding early morning sunlight streaming into room. This time only a small slither of it.

“Apologies… Hank. I may have been too prompt. I’m just…”

Rubbing his eyes, Hank looked him over, seeing the android fully dressed in a long-sleeved black shirt with an image of a cartoon Saint Bernard on it, and some loose-fitting pants.

“Excited.” The man finished for him. “Well, that’s what I get for letting you organise a schedule for the week… If you get me some coffee, I might forgive you.”

Connor swiftly made his way into the kitchen and came back approximately 3 minutes later with a mug of coffee.

And so, that’s how the morning went on. Hank might’ve complained, used to this side of the android from how he liked to get the tasks done swiftly and properly at work, but he was fond to see Connor moving about and happy to do something other than work.

It wasn’t much later into the day that they were sitting out by the side of the lake, situated to the right side of the cabin. It stretched out a fair distance beside the residence, its waters calm and silvery on the surface. Just reaching midday, there were chirps of wildlife buzzing around them, but nothing too loud and overbearing.

Hank had decided one thing he wanted to introduce Connor to was fishing. He could remember going on to a lake not dissimilar to this one in his youth, being taught how to fish. Maybe he could pass that skill, or at least the experience, down onto the android.

After making sure he wouldn’t cheat and download a step-by-step guide on fishing in his ‘brain-computer-thingy’, as the man eloquently put it, Hank entrusted him with his fishing rod he’d brought along. It was a little rusty with disuse and he had little in the way of lures, but it didn’t seem like Connor wanted to harm the fish anyway, given from his reluctance upon seeing the sharp metal hook of the rod.

“I doubt they’ll actually bite,” he shrugged, guiding the fishing rod into the android’s hands. “But if they do, you can just release them back in. A little different to how I’ve done it, but…”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” He stepped back a little, eyes squinting as he concentrated, focusing on flicking back the rod and casting the line as Hank had just shown him how to do. It was a few moments before he managed to precisely replicate the movement, and soon his line was bobbing in and out of the water.

After a few moments, though, he tilted his head, confused. “What now?”

“You wait.” Hank supplied, sitting back on a deck chair he’d brought with them, cracking open the ice box he’d brought with him. “Hey—where did all the beers go?”

The man was looking at him, holding out the can of lemonade. “It’s a much better alternative, Lieutenant. I did… I left a few beers in the bottom of the box, however I’d much rather you left those for later.”

Hank groaned, but complied, and Connor refocused his attention on the waters in front of him. The goal of the task was to catch a fish, and then reposit it back in the waters. But he was meant to wait for that to happen—

He shook his head. That wasn’t the goal. He supposed, from what he’d learnt from his short months of being human, was that there wasn’t really a goal to be attained with every action and thing he did. There were outcomes, but maybe the true aim of this ‘fishing’ wasn’t to catch the fish at all.

Not with the still waters, glistening on the surface, calm movements every now and then as something beneath rippled the current in its movements. Not with the calm hum of nature, the trees lightly dancing back and forth in the breeze. Not with the soft click of the lemonade can opening, Hank’s breathing, the warmth of companionship.

It was about the moment, he noted. The build up of planning their excursion, the anticipation in the car ride over, and now it was the moment he’d thought about. A break from modern day life, a chance to fully enjoy being human. Not working, not thinking constantly about android rights, having things to get done. That moment gave him a chance to reflect, as his eyes cast over the waters, line bobbing as something began to lightly tug on the end of it. To reflect truly on what had happened the past few months.

Because it was a lot. It was being created, being a machine, hunting deviants, meeting Hank… realising that there was more to life than following orders and completing the mission. Taking those orders and throwing them away, meeting the leader of the deviants, of their people, and finally becoming himself.

And now, he was realising what it truly was to be himself… it was freedom. Freedom was being able to have family, to move in with Hank and Sumo, to be free to choose his career path, choose what he wants to do with his life. Choose to take a break away from it all and immerse themselves in nature.

Nature, with all its beauty, all its life—

Standing there, realising this all, feeling the fresh breeze of air tickle his cheeks, the warmth of sun, shining soft yellow light, Hank teaching him to fish. He could do what he wanted. And it wasn’t a task; there was no mission. He could just have… fun.

“Connor? I think you caught one.”

He snapped back to reality. Hank was right. The line was tugging in his hands, and he moved swiftly to reel it in. A fish dangled from the edge of the line. He gathered it up in his hands, carefully, then crouched down, letting his hands hover partway through the water.

It was gentle, and the fish tickled as it moved in his hands, burrowing deeper into the water it could find. He laughed. It reminded him of the fish he caught back in the Tower, that one day, so far away. Connor let it back into the lake.

He watched it swim further away, down and down, deeper into the water. A pause. “Hank, is… is this what it feels like to…” he paused again. LED swirling in thought. “To be alive?”

Hank stood beside him, hand patting his shoulder. “This, and a lot of other things, kid.”

Connor thought it over for a moment. “I think I like it.” Being alive seemed to bring its downs, but even the hostage situation would bring the fish struggling on the floor to be saved. It would bring choices, choices he could make his own decisions on, and moments like this which he wouldn’t trade for the world.

“Great. Now, where were those beers you hid again?”

#dbhcolorsofdeviancy #dbh #detroit become human #dbh connor #dbh hank #dbh connor and hank #fanfic #dbh fanfic #it's all fluff here #I used to be a hardcore angst and horror writer but dbh has turned me sappy #dw tho I have angst coming on some later prompts >:)

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crusherthedoctor · 3 years

Text

Sonic & Tails: Beyond the Stars - Chapter 6-7 Interlude

Complications

“Say Tails, didn't you upgrade the Tornado before we arrived in Viridonia?”

“...Oh yeah. I did, didn't I? Thanks for reminding me.”

Tails shuffled his hand from behind his back, and quickly pulled out a small device, to which everyone displayed varying levels of raised eyebrows in response to how exactly he managed to do that. With a simple press of a button, he patiently turned his attention to the sky, which still had not a single cloud to its visage.

Confused by this, Sonic slowly looked all around the arid landscape. “What are we waiting for? We gotta go get it, right? No point standing around if it's not-... ...oh, there it is.” The moment he looked back ahead, there was a look of wonder on his face, as the famous plane was right where it previously wasn’t mere seconds ago, floating in the air triumphantly. Its engines were roaring with life.

“That was... almost as fast as me. Almost.”

“That's awesome!” Amy cried out happily. She had an equally amazed Cream and Cheese tucked under her arms to prevent her friends’ small frames from being blown away by the sheer force generated by the Tornado.

“Not bad, indeed,” Rouge added, after using her own gift of flight to examine the plane from above. “Seems like quite a breakthrough, little guy.”

“Yep!” Tails beamed, his tails gliding up and down in sync with his visible excitement. “With a push of a button, I can summon it to wherever we are! So if we need it in short notice, it'll be no trouble at all.”

Sonic ruffled his young friend's head once again, grinning all the while. “That's my bro! No way this WON'T come in handy!” He paused, as he put a finger to his chin. “Could have been handy beforehand too, come to think of it...”

“Absolutely impeccable work, Tails,” Lutrudis applauded. “At least some of our greatest geniuses aren't foul in spirit.” She was evidently unperturbed by the force causing her ponytail to fly in her face more than once. She brushed it aside every time, and her smile didn’t falter.

“But will it have enough room for all of us? Though I suppose Miss Rouge will be unbothered...” She turned her head up at the flying bat, before her ponytail flew in her face yet again.

“Well, there's four seats now, so technically we'd be just one short. But...” The fox motioned towards the wing. “That hasn't stopped Sonic before... even when there are seats available.”

“True,” Sonic confirmed, with another trademark smirk. “Now let's get out of here, I'm sweating like an Eggman who's about to be foiled.”

“...Me too,” Lutrudis agreed as she fluttered a hand to fan herself, unable to come up with a clever comparison of her own. Amy was likewise quick to nod in agreement.

---

After returning to the castle, and after a couple of showers the moment they returned, Lutrudis directed the gang to the kitchen. But not before two members of the group were finally given their gifts, after Lutrudis made sure to clean those as well...

“~It’s so beautiful!~” Amy’s line of sight was hyper focused on her new silver necklace, its emerald jewel matching the girl’s eyes perfectly. Cream was likewise enticed by her own necklace, and its garnet jewel was a similar match for the bunny’s own eyes. The two of them couldn’t have been any more over the moon with their gifts, with Amy practically dancing in giddy ecstasy. “I can’t get over how it looks!”

“Thank you so much for this, Trudy!” Cream shimmered brightly.

“But wouldn’t they have cost a lot?” Amy wondered. “I wouldn’t want you to burn a hole in your wallet for our sake...”

“It’s cool,” Lutrudis waved a hand, her tail swishing happily in response to seeing her fellow companions’ joy. “I couldn’t resist seeing the looks on your faces. And honestly, the price was nothing compared to the real difficulty of washing away the stench of oil,” she joked.

Although the visitors (except Rouge) should have been long used to the shifts between the rooms in the castle by this point, they still found themselves caught off guard by the kitchen’s unique appearance. Far from the reds of the halls, the blues of the bathroom, or the whites of the greenhouse, the kitchen’s primary colours were brown and black, and yet it was not drab in the slightest. With its warm shades, and combined with the wooden floor and the brick walls, it almost gave the impression of a country aesthetic, even though no such aesthetic was truly present in any obvious form.

They remained impressed with how the castle was able to maintain an overarching sense of comfort and beauty, despite each room being different in its own way, sometimes vastly so. Rouge also couldn’t help but wonder to herself if any of those pretty crystals were nearby... for reasons, of course. But alas, they had more important things to attend to. Namely, Rouge’s reports about them.

“So then,” Sonic started. “What did you find out about them?”

“Well if you spare me just a little minute... ah, here they are.” Rouge pulled out a small handful of documents from behind her back, and casually tossed them onto the biggest table in the kitchen. “There you have them. Knock yourself out.”

“Are we... allowed to read these documents?” Lutrudis questioned, after showing hesitance to do so. “Since it is G.U.N. work and all, they might get ever so slightly incensed that you’re sharing such documents with little old us...”

Rouge placed her hands on her hips, unfazed as ever. “They don’t have to know. It’ll be our little secret.” A smirk planted itself on her lips. “Besides, since Sonic is the one who actually saves the world from all the things that threaten it, it’s more useful in your hands anyway, let’s be honest.”

Lutrudis looked at Sonic, who himself turned to Tails, who then turned to Amy, who likewise turned to Cream, and she looked at Cheese, to which he looked back at Lutrudis.

“Chao...?” Cheese asked.

After a pause, they all shrugged, unanimously finding no reason to debate with the bat. And with that, they got right down to business. Predictably, Sonic was quick to skim through them, and at first, he seemed somewhat unimpressed with what he was reading.

“These... aren’t telling me anything we don’t already know,” he complained. “Different abilities depending on the colour, grey crystals are less effective than colored ones, stronger reactions when more of the same colour are used together... We know all this...”

“Keep reading,” Rouge commanded firmly. “There’s bound to be something.”

“Fine, will do...”

“Actually Sonic... I don’t remember THIS part,” Amy noted, as she quickly brought the file she was reading over to Sonic. “It says here that with the right amount of Chao and crystals present, they can directly open the way to the Ethereal Zone...?”

“Really?” Tails asked. “I... guess that’s not a conclusion without merit, but for all of Eggman’s antics, I thought it’d be more complicated than that?”

“It is, in a sense,” Rouge answered. She walked over to a nearby chair to lean against. “The Chao and crystals can open the way, yes, but you need a lot of them to do it. A lot of them. And not just a lot of them, but in the case of crystals, a lot of every individual type.”

“So more crystals than I have, then?” Lutrudis pondered, with a stroke of her hair. “But... they aren’t finite, they can respawn. Does it not count if it’s a... erm, replacement crystal?”

“Since they’re no less effective, logic would dictate that they would count. But doing it that way would likely take forever, especially if you’re as impatient as Dr. Eggman. Not to mention he’s already hunting after the Chao as well anyway. So he’s probably just finding crystals anywhere and everywhere he can for the sake of it being faster.”

“How many exactly?” Sonic asked. For all his comments at Eggman’s expense, he knew the doctor having access to so many of them would be no joke.

“More than any of us have seen so far. You’d practically need a mountain of them.”

“Sheesh... But where would Eggman be able to find such an amount? We’ve seen multiple spots with plenty of them, like the cave under here, but not to the level of what you’re describing...”

“Hold up,” Tails said, as he pointed to a particular section of the file he was reading. “There are people who live in the Ethereal Zone...? Or lived, past tense?”

Sonic’s ears stood up. “Okay, fair play, I DEFINITELY don’t recall that part. How did you find that out? Have you been there or something?” he asked half-sarcastically.

“Do you really think all those fancy murals and paintings around here are just a coincidence?” Rouge pointed out, in a playful tone with a wagging finger.

“Murals? Paintings? What are you...” He stopped, as he slowly recalled a number of recent occurrences. “You mean... like the ones in the desert town...”

“Or those carvings in Zephyr Mountain...” Tails recalled.

“And the ones by the meadows...” Lutrudis added. “Every one of them includes people in their visuals...”

“And those aren’t the only ones,” Rouge confirmed. “The Ethereal Zone may be little more than a myth to most people on this island, but the legends have always had an influence in their lives and culture.”

“And their buildings, considering some of them are prone to glowing,” Sonic dryly quipped. “You’d think that would be enough to confirm it’s real.”

“So is that gross monster who works for Eggman one of the people... or things... that live in there?” Amy asked, understandably puzzled to say the least. “It wouldn’t be involved in Eggman’s schemes for nothing, right?”

“Oh, so we DO have another Chaos on our hands?” Sonic continued, hands on hips. “These beats are sounding more and more like Chaos to me... minus the whole mystery world dimension thingymajig part, I guess. Right down to involving the Chao...” As if on cue, his attention was focused on a lone playful Chao swinging from his arm, which he soon tried to prevent from falling off.

“At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Wraith was a mutated Chao too,” he added, still focused on the thankfully unmutated Chao.

“I doubt that, but this is where it gets weird...”

“As opposed to everything else about this, which is perfectly normal...?”

Rouge rolled her eyes as she continued. “If it was someone or something that belonged inside the Ethereal Zone... then what’s it doing out of the Zone, if Eggman still hasn’t unlocked it for himself? Did it get out by itself, and if so, how did it do it? And furthermore, if this one managed to get out, how come we’ve seen no others like it?”

She sighed to herself, with a clenched fist. “Not even the A.R.K. reports were this complicated. At least with that one, the biggest hurdle was going to space.”

Everyone went silent. Though Rouge’s documents were definitely giving them more to work with, there were still some unsolved mysteries even now, and as far as they knew, Eggman was still in no rush to clue them in on the rest of the details. As they all quietly thought about where to go from here, Cream was the one who broke the silence.

“You’re really good at finding out things, Miss Rouge,” the rabbit said cheerfully, despite not fully understanding the documents to the same extent as her older friends. Rouge seemed to be caught off guard by the sudden compliment, but even she couldn’t help but smile at Cream’s innocence.

---

Since they still hadn’t decided on what their next course of action would be, everyone took the time to split up for a short while. Rouge offered to search around Lime Shores to see if she could uncover new info, and Amy demanded to go with her, possibly out of wariness as to whether the jewel hunter slash government agent was up to anything shady. Rouge didn’t even bother arguing with it, knowing full well that Amy’s stubbornness was comparable to that of the Blue Blur himself... or the Black Blur that she was even more familiar with. Must be a hedgehog thing.

Cream wasn’t sure if leaving Amy and Rouge to themselves was a good idea or not, considering she had some vague awareness of their past history with each other. But she decided to stick with Lutrudis despite that, confident that her older sister figure and the bat lady would be able to set any potential disagreements aside for now. The rest of the Chao were following them, as Lutrudis promised to take the diminutive creatures to somewhere special. As they were walking through the castle hallway however, with the rabbit holding the horse’s hand, something seemed to be troubling her...

“Trudy?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I confess to something?”

“Confess?” Lutrudis couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle. “As if you would ever need to confess to anything. But sure, you can tell me whatever you’re comfortable with telling.”

“I’m worried about what Dr. Eggman might do next...”

“Eggman?” The horse stopped in her tracks, and she made sure to kneel down to Cream’s height, albeit slowly so as to not put too much strain on her legs. “What’s he done to get you all concerned?”

“Well... all that stuff that happened in the desert. Those monsters that came to life...” Cream tugged on her left ear, looking to the side with minor anxiousness. “And the big ship that created the big hurricane...” She shuddered at the memory, holding tightly onto Cheese.

“Chao...!” Cheese muttered, slightly dismayed at temporarily being unable to breathe.

“Dr. Eggman does a lot of bad things, and I wish he would stop. But he’s doing really scary things now... What will happen next? And what does he want to do with all these Chao?” She was quick to turn her gaze to Lutrudis’ eyes, having once again seeked out the resemblance to that of her own mother’s.

Lutrudis glanced around at all the Chao floating above them. They exchanged various looks of concern, yet she simply smiled at every one of them, as if to ease their individual tensions. She turned that sympathetic smile to Cream, and gently stroked her cheek. “But we know what he’ll do next, sweetie... He’ll be ranting incoherently and screaming filthy words after we strike a blow to his overstuffed ego.” She followed it up with a wink, as Cream giggled at her comment. “Nothing Eggman has done has stopped you or your friends before, and that won’t change now.”

“I guess you’re right, heh,” Cream admitted, with a nervous smile. “I know it’s silly to be afraid, but...”

“Hey, don’t say that, there’s nothing silly about it at all.” She put both of her hands on the rabbit’s shoulders. “There’s no shame in feeling afraid, it happens to all of us. And heck, after everything you’ve been through, I’d dare say you’re brave where it truly counts.”

“Really?”

“Chao?”

“Would I lie to you?”

“...No, you wouldn’t,” Cream’s smile grew less nervous, as she nuzzled up against the horse’s chest to hug her. Lutrudis, still evidently not used to receiving them, took a moment or two to react, but slowly wrapped her arms around the bunny in turn, and rubbed the little one’s back. Her tail started swishing again.

“In fact... how about we do a little something to commemorate your previous, brave adventures?”

“Huh?” Cream gave her an inquisitive look. “What do you mean?”

“Well you see, you wouldn’t believe it coming from these hands, but I know a thing or two about knitting...”

---

“I’m still not used to Eggman being this hush hush...” Tails muttered, as he and Sonic took the time to have a calming walk outside. Though they were now accustomed to hanging around the castle, the size of its walls still amazed them greatly, and if they hadn’t been discussing Eggman affairs, the tranquility of the forest would have lowered their guards completely.

“Me neither,” Sonic agreed, as he took a swig of his fresh can of Chaos Cola. If he wasn’t already aware that Trudy was hospitable, he was very grateful for the contents in her fridge. “The doc would usually be the FIRST to tell us about his plan.”

“He even sent us a letter one time.”

“Well, that wasn’t actually him, but...” He brushed the correction aside, figuring it wasn’t important, since it’s still something he’d probably do. He made sure to cherish the therapuetic sunshine that was seeping through the greenery. “He’s never been shy about what he’s up to. Even when he’s tried to be more secretive, he could never resist giving it all away. But this time... even with his hints, we have incomplete info... Like that Wraith! We know it’s evil, works for Eggman, may or may not hail from the Ethereal Zone... MIGHT be another mutated Chao...?”

“He said all the stuff he’s been doing lately is connected,” Tails remembered, as he rubbed his chin intently. He took a moment to admire the pristine condition of the lake nearby. “But... how? So much of it feels so disconnected. He wants more Chao and crystals, that part’s easy to understand, but how does all the rest factor into it? And why has he made the Wraith part of it?”

“I bet he’s laughing it up right now,” Sonic grumbled out of irritation, with the frown to match. “Probably thinks we’re dummies for not knowing every last oh so brilliant detail of his convoluted spider web.”

“But we will get to the bottom of it, right?” Tails suggested with a hint of hope. “Don’t forget, we’re not on our own here. We don’t know where the Chaotix ended up, but we’ve still got detectives on our side. AND Rouge is a G.U.N. agent!”

“One of the only competent ones...” Sonic murmured to himself.

Tails was about to counter the hedgehog’s dismissive statement, but he stopped himself, with his body language indicating he actually agreed deep down, if reluctantly. “G.U.N. or no G.U.N, Rouge is still really smart, isn’t she? And... I know she’s been kinda sneaky a couple of times in the past, but I think we can trust her now.”

“Yeah, cause neither of us are Knuckles. We don’t guard a Master Emerald, so we have nothing to worry about.” Sonic chuckled out loud. “Just hope she and Amy stay out of each other’s hair for long enough, after what happened with Emerl...”

“Huh? Did something happen between them?”

“Eh, it was ages ago, maybe they made up since then.” He followed it up with another chuckle. “Maybe they were fighting over me,” he joked.

“.........”

Tails promptly went quiet, as if he were reminded of something from the back of his mind at that exact moment. He glanced smoothly in Sonic’s direction, attempting to maintain a relaxed disposition. Sonic didn’t seem to notice anything suspicious.

The silence continued. It seemed there was no reason for the peace to be interrupted, certainly not with the gorgeous view they were still fortunate to witness as they carried on walking together. But the moment Sonic took another sip of his Chaos Cola, the younger of the two decided to ask just one tiny, innocent question...

“So do you have a thing for Trudy?”

He almost felt guilty for causing Sonic to nearly choke on his drink, but not enough to hide the growing smirk on his face upon witnessing his friend’s abrupt change in behaviour. After taking a few seconds to cease the resulting coughing fit, and compose himself, Sonic calmly turned to Tails, an admirably constructed demeanour that was nonetheless betrayed instantly by his spines shooting up in defiance.

“Sorry, what?”

“I mean, y’know, I was just thinking that... maybe... from what I’ve observed... you might just be... possibly developing... a teensy weensy little... thiiiiiing...” The fox shuffled his eyebrows, complete with vague hand motions. “Foooorrrrrr...” He proceeded to subtly mimic a galloping horse.

Sonic blinked, and stayed silent for a couple of seconds, though it sure didn’t feel like just a couple of seconds. After an uneasy pause, another small chuckle eventually emerged from his mouth, and this time it was followed by a brief period of mocking laughter. Most people wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but Tails knew his buddy well, and he could spot the fakeness of his laugh from a mile away.

“Me? Seriously?” Sonic shook his head to dismiss the claim, though if one examined closer, it seemed to be more for his own sake than that of his friend. “You really think I’d be that kind of guy?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it...”

“Yeah, I know there isn’t, but... c’mon, it’s me we’re talking about! Can you imagine me in a situation like that? It’d be a laugh riot, wouldn’t it? Just wouldn’t work out.”

“Why not?”

“Too stuck in my ways, aren’t I?” Sonic shrugged casually, before he glanced at the inviting scenery once more. The desert may have looked nicer than most of its kind, but the fresh air was greatly preferable to him. He gazed at the leaves flowing freely through the calm breeze, and although he brought no attention to it, it was clear that he found it a convenient metaphor for the current subject.

“Settling down just isn’t me,” he continued. “And it never will be. I’d never give up my life, even in my old age.”

“Do you need to settle down, though?” Tails mused out loud. “No one ever said there’s only one way for these things to work out.”

The hedgehog almost seemed to ponder his friend’s words for a fleeting moment, and slowly appeared to be lost in thought. But, as if sensing he was lured into a false sense of security, he quickly shook his head again, freeing himself of the apparent curse that Tails had placed upon him... So he thought.

“Well anyway, the point is, that’s not what’s going on. You know I get chummy with people pretty quickly, even when they tried to kill me before the fact! And sure, Trudy may be cute, but-”

“~Oh, you think so?~”

Sonic’s eyes froze, and the barely concealed grin directed at him was not helping one bit.

“COMPLIMENTING A FRIEND ISN’T A CRIME!” He cried out defensively, and closed his eyes tightly. After taking a moment to breathe, he calmed himself down, and raised a pointed finger.

“...Nothing’s happening. Nothing’s happening. Just getting on with another friend is all.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all, yes.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Absolutely sure?”

“...Are you... wanting something to happen?”

“No no,” Tails raised his hands, though his grin hadn’t quite fully disappeared. “I believe you,” he claimed, in a tone that implied a complete and utter lack of authenticity to that claim. “Just wanted to know what was happening.”

“Well, nothing’s happening,” Sonic reaffirmed bluntly, though a smirk was beginning to form on his own face as well. Even he had to admit the banter was entertaining, and considering who Tails had lived with for most of his life, it’s not like this mischievous side of him developed from nowhere. “So there you have it. Straight from the horse’s mouth.”

Tails immediately burst out laughing, only refraining from laughing harder in order to not attract attention from anyone who could be hearing. Sonic’s initial confusion very quickly switched to annoyance with himself, as he smacked his forehead upon realising his choice of speech. He pointed another finger to prevent any further commentary, to which Tails simply raised his hands again, and mimicked the act of zipping his mouth.

His amusement still refused to actually vanish.

---

Back to Chapter 6...

#Sonic & Tails: Beyond the Stars #Crusher's Fanfiction #Sonic the Hedgehog #Fanfiction

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trashcanalienist · 3 years

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It's objectively wrong to define a robot's age in human terms by years. I think you have to do it by stages.

Primary Stage: The robot has been created relatively recently. It is inexperienced in the ways of existence and the universe, world, and culture in which it exists. The robot will almost certainly display egocentric and selfish traits, and will not think about the feelings of others and the harm/benefit relationship of its actions beyond what its programming may require. At this point, the robot may not understand that others exist in the exact same way that it does. The robot may display arrogance, aggressiveness, overconfidence in its ability in conjunction with a faulty understanding of this ability, and a lack of understanding of the cessation of existence. It is unlikely the robot will of its own volition think of anything but the present.

Secondary Stage: the robot now comprehends the past and applies it to the present. It may even speculate on the future beyond what its programming may expect or require it to. It comprehends the existence of others but may still not understand that they are the same as it. The robot may cling to arbitrary differences. It has a better understanding of its own ability, and takes pride and humility in said ability as appropriate. It is no longer selfish but will almost certainly still put its own wants and needs before those of others. However, it does understand the harm/benefit relationship of its actions, and acts as it does knowing this.

Tertiary Stage: the robot thinks extensively about the future. It is likely that it also thinks extensively about universal harm/benefit relationships, the place of its world/culture/people/fellow robots in said universe, and the troubles of the past and how best they can be avoided in the future. It will only rarely act truly selfishly, though its motives may be unclear at first. The robot will only focus on arbitrary differences to contemplate how arbitrary they truly are, or potentially to admire the random beauty of the universe. It understands the cessation of existence and that time is eternal and fleeting simultaneously. It understands its own ability very well and will very nearly never take risks it does not think it can handle. This applies to battle, but also to long-term manipulation of human/creator politics, etc.

This works best for Free-Minded robots, like the Transformers, the Humanoids, possibly the Replicants, and Rossum's lot (who just by lifespan rarely achieve the tertiary stage - I would say Radius did (he burned so brightly and so briefly), and Helena and Primus were made queеrly and progressed quickly into the secondary stage, with much hope for them achieving the tertiary stage in the near future). It gets...sketchy when you try to apply it to Asimovians, as the Three Laws so deeply govern their sense of self.

It's also important to create the distinction of code vs the self. Many slаve robots will not enter the primary stage for some time, as their servitude programming overwrites any individual "self" they may have. This machine-state (crude word for it but it is metaphorically accurate) would be Stage 0, or the Subordinate Stage (I don't want to call it "Initial" because it isn't for Free-Minded robots, but it's not a negative thing as it is only how some are created, so...that's a compromise and very open to suggestion). As robots free themselves, the robots they create would not be subject to this stage. Robots created for science and thus "born free" are also not subject to it.

And notice there is no claim for morality there. The robot, based on its personality, experience, programming, and "self", will do as it sees fit, because it will understand the world as only it can. As we understand the world as only our individual selves can (when we can be said to understand it, that is - humans have Stages too, though they're easier broken down into year-markers and often overlap confusingly).

Robots may live for two years or twenty years or twenty million years, or forever if kept in good shape. The development of a robot will vary greatly depending on everything from the type of robot it is to its Free-Minded status to its sociocultural surroundings and literacy to the other creatures around it and the events it experiences. This is true for all creatures, but so much moreso for robots as they are generally straightforward and vary so vastly in type and lifespan (and by combination of thus, in development speed) while all being robots - and that's to say nothing of personality and base programming (if any) and any restrictions that might apply as a result of that. And so, stages.

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barbariccia · 4 years

Text

Do you have a few minutes to talk, one-on-one?

ash’s been facetiming with her sisters at home, wherever home is for her family right now. we get the chance to overhear her sister saying that she saw kaidan in a news vid and that he’s cute, to which we get to raise our eyebrows... unless you’re playing a maleshep, in which case her sister says that you’re the one who’s cute. (naturally, this is the starter for the ashley romance for a mshep.)

ash herself doesn’t think kaidan’s cute - or at the very least, she’s not sweet on him, so we take the chance to ask about her family instead.

Shepard: Did your father serve with the fleet?

Ashley: Yeah. Took any crap posting he could get that offered space time. He worked his ass off trying to get recognised. But he never got above Serviceman Third Class. He was real proud when I made Chief. First thing he did was salute.

Shepard: What about your mother? You haven’t mentioned her.

Ashley: You must know what military wives are like. Strong because they have to be. Able to raise kids while Dad’s away on a six-month cruise. She has a degree in planetary geology. She and Dad both wanted to see new worlds. She gave up her career to raise us, though.

innocuous enough, but it stands out to me that ash’s family is all still hale and healthy. maybe that’s just a byproduct of the final fantasy franchise, where i’ve gotten used to a 99.99% rate of at least one parental death for characters within the series (as an aside, if you can tell me one character who has both parents alive other than zack fair, i’ll publicly endorse you for whatever role you want to lead), but also within the normandy so far. the rest of our crew has either committed patricide, is estranged from one parental unit, or just straight up hasn’t mentioned one or both of them, so a full family unit isn’t exactly something to be sniffed at.

on its own, i don’t need to highlight the parentification that ashley’s been party to for her whole life - she mentions she’s the eldest of four sisters, with the youngest still being in high school. and ash is only 25! she’s had to have worked her absolute ass off to attain that kind of position and be relied on by her parents to help with the other kids, and i just... i respect ashley so much. let’s not forget that first contact only occurred the year before she was born. there’s been a lot of change in her life, both as quick as the digital age upon us in the last decade or two, and slow over her years of growing up.

we get to ask about her sisters in more depth; she says her relationship with the youngest, sarah, was rocky for a while up until the point where sarah got a boyfriend that wanted to go further than she did. her other sisters worried as well, and ashley was posted in the same galaxy, but too far away to make it back quickly if something happened.

Shepard: If he really liked her, he wouldn’t be pushy.

i really like her dialogue here, honestly. it’s a real human response of her! ash definitely feels like the most real of the characters aboard the ship, to me - her responses to things are flawed and shitty, but she’s self aware of it to a degree, and she’s not the kind of person that acts black and white, either end of the morality scale. who among us can really say that they’re the pinnacle of human morals? even the best of us have thought things like this before, in varying contexts - even if we don’t verbalise them. doesn’t make us bad people... just human.

sarah’s boyfriend thought he’d try and persuade her into having sex, and sarah herself threw him into a tree and left him then and there. the williams parents had all their daughters learn some kind of self-defense - ash herself was taught hand-to-hand, sarah learned aikido, the second eldest got pistol training, and the third picked up the sword, which is just. utterly hilarious on a galactic scale considering the setting. i think i love the williams family.

Shepard: Didn’t you call the police?

Ashley: [Sarah] said it wouldn’t solve the real problem. And she and Mike would both become household names. It was a small colony. I said it was her call to make. That we should let her do it her way. Mom was pretty pissed about that.

ash took leave to walk her sister to school and back, and on the last day of her leave, the boy in question was waiting after school.

so this SURE IS A STORY,

and that’s the end of the talk about her sisters. it makes me feel fuzzy that these girls - no matter how not real they are - have the presence of mind to deal with an abuser so calmly, but at the same time... leaves me feeling tired. not that i expect humans to ever really change, especially not in only a hundred odd years, but for this setting to be so expansive, for there to be bigger problems and more people around than anyone could ever have dreamed... and yet entitlement and abuse still runs rampant.

this is its own problem within the universe, that despite everything, a female shepard doesn’t quite have the same footing as a male shepard does in certain situations, but i’ll get to those when i get to it. besides... i suppose there are bigger things happening now in the real world than anyone could ever have dreamed of seeing, and petty problems still win out in terms of importance. doesn’t matter how small your problem is if it’s personal.

we’re not done quite yet, though.

Ashley: Dad always wanted to serve in space. But he wanted us to have real ground under our feet. He’d say, “Space is beautiful, but you can’t raise a family there.”

Ashley: “I cannot rest from travel: I will drink life to the lees. All times I have enjoy’d greatly, have suffer’d greatly, both with those that loved me, and alone. For always roaming with a hungry heart. Much have I seen and known. Cities of men, and manners, climates, councils, governments...”

Ashley: “Ulysses” was Dad’s favourite poem. Every time he shipped out, he recorded me reading it. He had a dozen versions when he retired.

Shepard: Does he still like it?

Ashley: I sure hope so. I read it to his grave every time I go home.

Lord Alfred Tennyson was a well known (and still popularised) British poet, best known for his poems The Charge of the Light Brigade, which i studied at school, and Ulysses. his work is still felt today with phrases that became commonplace from his work, like the lines “tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all”.

the lines ash quotes specifically are about the restlessness of wanderlust and wanting to live life utterly to the fullest, feeling nostalgic for the times when the subject was doing just that, and the full poem continues and ends with the assertion that the speaker’s goal is to continue living life wholeheartedly until the end, and even beyond.

speaking of the beyond-

Ashley: That’s not a problem with you, is it? That I believe in God?

and we reach out to take the hand of yet another utterly fascinating facet of ashley. we’ve seen religion briefly within the game so far - the preaching hanar on the citadel comes immediately to mind - but there’s always been a feeling within sci-fi that because the universe can now be explored that god isn’t real and that things like faith are tossed to the wayside in favour of scientific exploration and discovery, even though in the grand scheme of things people tend... not to behave like that, on the whole. i vastly, enormously appreciate ashley for keeping her faith, and for it to be really not a huge part of her character. at no point is she reduced to any stereotype of character, whether that be “gun-toting god-fearing soldier babe”, or “i am religious therefore i must preach” - it, like other parts of her personality, are only parts that make up a whole and do not define her.

i love ashley. she’s such a good character.

#ashley williams #mass effect #this turned from analysis into a full blown fucking essay i'm so sorry #mol plays mass effect #squad: ashley

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rhosyn-du · 4 years

Text

Title: A Wonderful Institution Artist: @bidnezz Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, various background pairings Word Count: ~53k Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, discrimination against Downworlders, reference to rape, Clave-typical homophobia, implied character death, minor character death Summary: Magnus doesn’t have time for this bullshit. Warlocks are disappearing in New York City—five people in less than three months—and Magnus is determined to find them and protect the rest of his people from whatever took them. He doesn’t have time for politics, and he certainly doesn’t have time for whatever nonsense the Clave is proposing about marrying a Shadowhunter to a Downworlder as part of the new Accords. He doesn’t really have time for a pretty Shadowhunter who’s surprisingly kind to warlock children, either, but, well, he’s always been good at multitasking.

Alec always knew he couldn’t have what he wanted, but he’s spent the nearly four years since the newly-appointed Consul recalled his parents to Idris without explanation making the best of what he can have. When life suddenly offers up almost everything Alec actually wants on a silver platter, he can’t quite bring himself to trust it, especially when it comes with a million caveats and a side of impending disaster. But he knows how to handle disasters, even if the return of the Circle on top of Clave secrets that could destroy the Accords is way beyond the disasters he’s used to fielding. Hope, on the other hand? He doesn’t know what to do with that.

This fic was created for the @malecdiscordserver Mini Bang 2020.

Chapter Three

Alec told himself he was just doing his due diligence when he spent what little free time he had in the week following his second meeting with Magnus Bane investigating the recent warlock disappearances. Demons were involved, which made it Shadowhunter business, he reasoned, and it was happening in New York, which made it his Institute’s business. Plus, it was an excellent distraction from his mother’s presence and the impending negotiations with the Downworld, with everything that implied.

It had nothing at all to do with helping Magnus, or worrying that Magnus might be making himself a target, or how very badly he wished he could have accepted Magnus’s offer to join him for drinks.

It couldn’t have anything to do with Magnus. He barely knew Magnus. Magnus, who was centuries old and quite possibly one of the most powerful living warlocks in the world and easily the most beautiful man Alec had met in his entire life. Magnus, who made his stomach churn in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying. Magnus, who had probably only invited him for drinks because it made sense for the High Warlock of Brooklyn to get to know the Acting Head of the New York Institute, anyway.

Magnus, who looked at Alec like he could actually see him—and liked what he saw.

Alec got the names of the other missing warlocks from Catarina. He’d visited with Madzie three more times, all at Catarina’s request, and he and Catarina had formed a tentative sort of bond over their shared concern for the girl. Catarina didn’t mention Magnus, and Alec didn’t ask, and he ignored the small comfort he felt over the probability that if anything had happened to Magnus, Catarina would have mentioned it.

He didn’t mention the missing warlocks to his mother, or anyone else. Yes, she was Head of the Institute, and since she was actually in the Institute for once, she was also in charge of all ongoing missions and investigations. But she was busy preparing to receive dignitaries from the Clave and envoys from the Downworld, and Alec justified keeping it from her on those grounds. He had Jace and Izzy to help with investigation, and that was more than enough.

And Izzy helping with the investigation kept her from pestering Alec about his impending wedding. Mostly, anyway. He only wished it did half as good a job distracting him.

“According to her upstairs neighbor, Evangeline Grim is polite, fond of cats, and makes a great lavender shortbread,” Jace reported.

“Perfect,” Alec said. “Maybe whoever is kidnapping warlocks is hoping to start a magical bakery.”

“The couple who live next door thought she might have been keeping a cat in the apartment even though it's supposedly a pet-free building,” Izzy offered.

“Okay, we'll just forget about Evangeline Grim for now,” Alec decided. “Anything new on any of the other victims?”

“I confirmed that Bastian Pyre did several jobs for the seelies,” Izzy said, “but I don’t know if that’s helpful. A lot of warlocks do work for seelies.”

Alec felt a headache building behind his eyes. They'd been at this for a week, and they'd found nothing that gave any clue to where the missing warlocks might have gone. He was starting to understand why Magnus was so frustrated by the disappearances.

“Maybe we should call it a day,” Jace suggested. “Do some training, grab some dinner, maybe get a little downtime before tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, when the negotiations to finalize the revised Accords would begin. Tomorrow, when Alec would find out the name of the complete stranger he'd agreed to marry. Alec wasn't ready to think about tomorrow.

“I just,” Alec said, staring down at his assorted notes. “I just need a little more time.” He ignored the look that Jace and Izzy shared. “There's gotta be something in the information we've gathered.”

“Maybe,” Izzy said slowly, “you could try calling Magnus.”

Alec's eyes snapped up to look at his sister. “Why would I call Magnus?” He could hear the defensiveness in his own voice, and he hated it.

“Because he's investigating the same disappearances we are,” Izzy said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which, Alec realized, it kind of was. “And he's been doing it longer. It makes sense to share information.”

Dammit, it did make sense. And there was a part of Alec that was desperate for an excuse to see Magnus again. But there was an even bigger part, the one in charge of important things like self-preservation, that knew it was a bad idea. He'd met Magnus Bane twice and had barely convinced himself to walk away the last time. Who knew what he'd do if he let himself see Magnus again?

“I'm sure Magnus has more important things to do than talk to me about the lack of information we’ve found,” Alec said in a tone that made it clear the matter wasn't up for discussion. “You two go ahead and take that break. I'll catch up with you at dinner.”

The look Izzy gave him as she left said he was being an idiot, but Alec ignored it. He was in no mood for his sister's well-meaning critiques of his life.

Jace paused on his way out. “Hey,” he said, laying a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “Whatever you need to do, I’ve got your back. You know that, right?”

“I do.” It should have been comforting that at least his parabatai trusted him to make his own choices when the rest of his family didn’t. A week ago, it would have been. A week ago, Alec trusted himself. “Thank you,” he said anyway.

“Any time,” Jace said. “But if you work through dinner, I’ll let Izzy come find you.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “What happened to having my back?”

“That is having your back,” Jace told him.

With a heavy sigh, Alec turned back to the notes spread out in front of him. Come hell or high water, he was going to make sense out of this mess.

Magnus portalled himself and the three other Downworld representatives to the Institute for the negotiations, as they had decided it made sense to present a unified front to the Clave. This supposed unified front was of course somewhat undercut by the fact that the Downworld factions had sent representatives of wildly varying rank.

The Spiral Council had managed to convince Magnus that he should act as the warlock representative on the grounds that these final negotiations were being held in New York, and he couldn’t deny that it made sense for the High Warlock of Brooklyn to attend. The New York werewolf pack had sent their Second, a woman named Gretel who Magnus had only met in passing, and the vampires had sent Raphael, who held a similar position in the New York vampire clan.

The Seelie Queen herself represented the seelies in the negotiations, and while it made a sort of sense as it was a seelie who had finally been chosen to be married off to whichever Shadowhunter the Clave put forward (something about the woman having half-nephilim cousins she was fond of making her a good choice), her presence made Magnus uneasy.

Magnus thought perhaps the glass of whiskey he brought with him—his third for the evening, or was it fourth?—might also ruin the unified front a bit, but he'd promised the Spiral Council he would treat these proceedings with the respect and decorum they deserved, and they did not come close to deserving him sober.

The Clave representatives did not meet them at the entrance to the Institute. Magnus couldn’t help keeping an eye out—subtly, of course—for Alec as the two Shadowhunters who met the Downworld delegation led them to the room where the negotiations were to take place. He couldn’t help his disappointment when he failed to catch sight of him, either. Seeing Alec, even for a moment, would have vastly improved this trip.

The Clave delegation was already seated around a large cherry wood table when they arrived, looking for all the world like they’d been kept waiting despite the fact that he and the other Downworld representatives had arrived several minutes early. Magnus refrained from rolling his eyes at the obvious power play but did sip his drink with affected disinterest. And then proceeded to nearly choke on his drink when he spotted a familiar figure among the rest of the Clave representatives.

Alec's shoulders were taught with tension, and there was a furrow between his brows that Magnus wanted to reach out and smooth away with his fingertips. Instead, he banished the glass from his hand and straightened from his dismissive slouch. The Clave might not deserve his respect, but he could pretend for Alec.

He even made an effort to smile politely at each representative’s introduction. Even Inquisitor Herondale, who looked at him with the same distaste he imagined she might look at something she found on the bottom of her shoe.

Magnus's smile froze, though—along with every muscle in his body—at Alec's introduction. Because Alec was Alec Lightwood, Acting Head of the New York Institute, and now that he knew, Magnus didn't know how he hadn't seen it before. Standing there next to Maryse and Robert, Alec was so obviously their son.

Except Alec had done things Magnus never would have expected from a Lightwood. He’d protected Madzie. He’d thanked Magnus for healing him. He'd looked at Magnus like he was everything worth looking at. So maybe it wasn't that strange Magnus hadn't realized who his family was.

Their eyes met briefly as Magnus made his own introduction, but Alec kept his face carefully neutral. Magnus hated it, hated whatever had put that rigid tension in Alec's posture, hated the storm of emotion he couldn’t identify hiding in Alec's eyes.

After introductions were done and all representatives had seated themselves around the table, the negotiations began. This last session was really more of a recap of the terms all parties had agreed to in previous sessions than anything else, and Magnus was pleasantly surprised to find that the terms of the revised Accords were mostly minor updates to the current version. Given the Clave's insistence that the revisions happen now instead of at their regularly scheduled time and their demand that a marriage be included, he'd expected a major overhaul, likely with further ridiculous demands from the Clave. That it wasn’t should have eased Magnus's concerns, but it didn't. Instead, it just made him more wary about what the Clave might be up to.

In the end, though, there was nothing he or any of the other Downworld representatives had major objections to. There were a few disagreements over wording, but in the end, they had a document all parties were happy with.

Magnus couldn't help the way his eyes wandered over to Alec during the discussion. Consul Penhallow did most of the talking on the Clave side, so Magnus didn't have the best excuse for watching Alec, but it was like his eyes had a mind of their own, drifting toward Alec any time he wasn’t consciously looking somewhere else, cataloguing every word, every movement, every breath.

It didn’t help, Magnus thought, that Alec avoided meeting his eyes once they were seated. Oh, he wasn’t obvious about it. He simply watched whoever was speaking, and if that person happened to be Magnus, Alec watched his hands, or fixed his gaze at a point over Magnus’s shoulder. Magnus hated it almost as much as the furrow in his brow. The furrow that seemed to deepen with every passing minute.

“Which brings us to the final updated clause,” the Consul was saying, and Magnus once again forced himself to look away from Alec and pay attention to the proceedings.

A decision he immediately regretted as she launched into a short but pointed speech about how the union between Shadowhunter and Downworlder would symbolize the enduring peace between their races. As if there had ever truly been peace between the Clave and the Downworld. As if Shadowhunters didn't assume the worst of Downworlders in any given situation. As if there weren't, even now, Shadowhunters who kept trophies of the Downworlders they killed. As if two of the Shadowhunters sitting at this very table hadn't been party to Valentine Morgenstern’s attempted genocide.

Truly, he pitied the poor seelie woman who'd been conscripted for this so-called symbolic union. No matter how fond of her cousins she might be, it couldn't possibly make it any less loathsome to be married to a—

Magnus's brain came to a screeching halt as several pieces clicked together to form a distressing whole. Married to a Lightwood. Catarina had said the Clave was putting forward one of the Lightwood children. And Alec… Alec, who sat across the table, hands clasped so tightly together that his knuckles shone white. Alec, who protected Madzie from demons without a second thought, who protected Magnus from demons even though Magnus was more than capable of protecting himself. Alec, whose smile made Magnus feel things he hadn't let himself feel in nearly a century. Alec was Maryse and Robert Lightwood’s son.

Magnus wished, suddenly and desperately, that he hadn't banished his drink earlier. He wished he hadn't agreed to come to this meeting at all. He wished with every fiber of his being that he'd put those pieces together wrong.

As usual, Magnus's wishes went unanswered by a cold and callous reality.

“For a century and a half, the Accords have brokered peace between the Clave and the Downworld,” Alec said. He addressed the table, but when he finally—finally—looked at Magnus, their eyes locked, and they were both caught. “But they haven’t done enough. We bind ourselves to their rules, Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike, and it’s enough to prevent all-out war, but only just. There’s still distrust and even hatred between the Clave and the Downworld.”

There was something in Alec’s gaze that Magnus couldn’t quite place—conviction or resignation or both—and he almost seemed to be willing Magnus to understand.

“This union, along with the other revisions to the Accords, gives us the chance to open a bridge of understanding between Shadowhunters and Downworlders,” Alec continued, and there was a flash of regret in his eyes, just like there had been when he turned down Magnus’s invitation for drinks, before he looked away, “and I am honored that the Clave has chosen me to be a part of this union.”

Even though he’d known it was coming, hearing Alec say it aloud was a shock, and Magnus drew in a quick, surprised breath.

“I have to say I’m a bit surprised the Clave conscripted you for this, Alec Lightwood,” the Seelie Queen commented, “given your family history.”

“I volunteered,” Alec told her, frowning.

“Is that a formal objection to the Clave’s choice?” the Consul asked.

“Not at all,” the Queen answered with a small smile. “Simply making an observation.”

“In that case,” the Consul said, “would you like to share who the Downworld has chosen as a representative in this union?”

“Of course,” the Seelie Queen answered.

When Raphael asked him about it later, Magnus would blame the whiskey, but the truth was he couldn’t stop thinking about the regret and resignation in Alexander’s gaze.

“That would be me,” Magnus said.

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #fanfic

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ecethoughts · 4 years

Text

Let’s Discuss: Diversity Within the Classroom

Diversity is a concept which encourages the normalization and acceptance of the uniqueness of others (e.g. race, religion, sexual orientation, socio-economic status, gender etc.) within any given environment which, in turn, allows for a harmonious, accepting, and inclusive environment if accepted.

I believe it is common knowledge between educators that one’s childhood (specifically the first 3 years of their lives) is when brain development is at its most crucial and rapid stage. It is the environments which children are within as well as the experiences, both positive and negative, within those environments which ultimately affect a child’s holistic (i.e. cognitive, socio-emotional, physical, etc) development. This also indicates that as children are undergoing the rapid process of holistically developing by exploring and discovering the world around them, they are more susceptible to both positive and negative change within their opinions, values, and beliefs. Though it is possible for us adults to reform our opinions, values, and beliefs, as I believe that learning is something that does not come to a halt as our education finishes, but is rather an on-going process every time we receive new information which ultimately affects our viewpoint of the world and the people within it (of course for children, almost every piece of information which they learn/process is new), we are undoubtedly less susceptible to changing who we are. Analyzing from that perspective, it seems as though it is crucial to normalize, discuss, and display diversity to children from a young age, specifically in a classroom where there are multiple other children who will most likely vary from one another.

I often ponder upon the notion that people should not “see colour” or the numerous other differences within others as we are all the same. Though I appreciate and understand the message this notion is attempting to convey, I completely disagree. I believe that it is important to see the differences within others such as their race, religion, sexual orientation, ethnicity, gender, socio-economic status etc. as it helps us not only understand and become more tolerable of the fact that people have different ideas, opinions, values, and experiences than us which are influenced by their uniqueness (such as the ones listed above) and that their differences shape who they are as a person, but it also allows us to become more empathetic towards differing groups of people and validates their struggles solely due to their differences. Supporting diversity allows people to understand, appreciate, and celebrate all the different perspectives, ideas, and opinions which different people with differing experiences will bring into an environment. This will naturally instigate not only an inclusive environment where everybody would feel like an appreciated and valued member of that community (the feeling of belonging further encourages higher self-esteem therefore leading to more participation!), but also an extremely harmonious and collaborative environment. This is especially true within a classroom.

Goethe & Colina (2017) discuss how differing perspectives which are naturally introduced through the diversity within a learning environment vastly “[enrich] the learning environment” as differing perspectives “can bring about more complex thoughts” and varying approaches. For example, I asked the children within one of my placement classrooms to come up with a feeding plan for your class pet. Many children suggested giving it 3 meals a day like they do, which is heavily influenced from western culture, while others suggested to feed it when it “looked hungry”. Some children suggested that we ration the food, and others asked if they had to teach them a prayer before eating. The numerous ideas which flowed through the room displayed they diverse thought processes which each student held, mainly due to their different lifestyles, backgrounds, religions, cultures etc. It also allowed for other students to further question each other’s answers, and learn more about each other. The experience switched from a singular question/singular answer, to a meaningful discussion with bright and innovative ideas.

IMO, educators should prioritize supporting and normalizing diversity within their classrooms, as it naturally leads to a domino affect of acceptance and collaboration which will assist the children in their care within their future success/dispositions, and will overall shape them to become more open-minded and empathetic.

The domino affect:

children appreciate and see the beauty within the differences of their peers --> accept differing viewpoints --> feel a sense of belonging and acceptance from their peers which in turn assists in appreciating their own differences rather than feeling alienated --> builds self-confidence which further encourages them to express their thoughts, ideas, and opinions --> collaboration sparks alongside peers with differing views --> complex and varying approaches/solutions ignite through meaningful discussions or play, which further build on their holistic skills/development

This website lays out 7 ways to support diversity within the classroom and I definitely believe it’s worth the read! :) It’s amazing how the little things make such a vast difference!

https://www.prodigygame.com/main-en/blog/diversity-in-the-classroom

References

Goethe, E. V., & Colina, C. M. (2017). Taking advantage of diversity within the classroom. Journal of Chemical Education, 95(2), 189-192. doi:https://doi.org/10.1021/acs.jchemed.7b00510

#let's discuss #original

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aoc458 · 4 years

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A First Job Like No Other: Working on a Farm in 2020

Where do most young adults in 2020 apply for a first job? Perhaps a fast food chain, such as McDonald’s or Wendy’s, or maybe a grocery store like Market Basket or Hannaford. This is the typical route most young adults go, as these chains hire teenagers stepping into the workforce for the first time for minimum wage and minimal responsibility. But this was not the case for Mike Laferriere.

Paul Michael Laferriere, or “Mike” as he goes by, is a sophomore Communication student at UMass Amherst. Laferriere now is a resident of Pelham, New Hampshire, but until 2018 he lived in Dracut, Massachusetts, which borders Pelham. He attended Dracut Public Schools, a close-knit school system in a farm town. And like many students beginning to prepare to get their license, Laferriere was told by his parents he would have to get a job.

Paul “Mike” Laferriere on Ogonowski Farm

“I started working at Ogonowski Farm during the summer of 2015 when I was 15 years old,” Laferriere said. “I got my job from a good friend of mine, Douglas Hill, who invited me to come work with him and it went from there,” he explained. “I was just a hay hauler then but started working full time [during the summer months] around 2017.”

Ogonowski Farm is a 250+ acre farm in Dracut, Massachusetts that has been owned by the Ogonowski family for over 100 years. Current owner Jim Ogonowski produces hundreds of hay bales every year to be sold to horse farms throughout Massachusetts. Ogonowski Farm also grows chrysanthemums, pumpkins, apples, and cornstalks which are sold at a fall farm stand located in the front of Ogonowski Farm near the center of town.

Scattered tools and equipment in the foreground, with a large hayfield in the background.

Jim Ogonowski often hires male students just entering high school or older to begin as hay haulers or to plant mums, which are tasks that require more help than his usual cast of five regular employees.

“I have moms messaging me on Facebook all the time asking if their son can work on the farm,” says Ogonowski. “I typically will try and give them a chance when we need some help planting mums or unloading [hay] wagons, but not everyone comes back.”

Laferriere straps down a stacked hay truck in preparation for a delivery to another farm.

The work that is completed on Ogonowski Farm can best be described as rigorous. Unloading wagons often occurs all day in the summer, where temperatures can be in the ‘80s. Hay is stacked in a barn on Ogonowski Farm meticulously to the ceiling, and the hay bales often weigh around fifty pounds. Furthermore, planting the “mums,” as Ogonowski calls them, is back-breaking work, as the simple action is repeated hundreds of times over the course of a day. But Laferriere has stuck around for five years now, developing his skills on the farm and becoming one of the farm’s most experienced employees. He works full time, typically 5-7 days a week during the summer, from mid-May to the end of August, and fills in when he can when he is home from school.

Laferriere tells me, “I had always seen myself working with my hands and such but I never expected to become a farmer, who would've thought that was something I could do?”

Even after growing up in a farming community such as Dracut, farming is not an occupation that many teenagers openly consider, or even have the opportunity to apply for. Yet Laferriere enjoys the work, and the nontraditional first job. He jokes that he always enjoys seeing people’s reactions when he first tells them that he works on a farm, and says that the most common question he is asked is: “What kind of animals do you have?”

Though strictly a hay and produce farm, along with a farm dog and a few stray cats, Ogonowski Farm has allowed for Laferriere to learn much about the business of farming and beyond. He explains that the number of skills he has learned as a result of his time on the farm has taught him more in a first job than he could ever expect, and he enjoys the hard work.

“I think the most interesting aspect of working on the farm is the problem solving aspect of our work there. The amount of problems I can solve because of my work on the farm is immense. But my favorite part is being able to work in the great outdoors. There's nothing like being in the fresh air and being a part of the natural world around you,” says Laferriere.

In my time on Ogonowski Farm, I have to admit, the natural beauty that is present on the farm is great. The massive fields, fruit and vegetables, and wildlife that you may see while at Ogonowski Farm present the “natural world” in a way that most high schoolers and college students do not get to experience when entering the workforce. Working on a farm allows for one to reconnect with nature in a way that is lost on most of today’s society, which Laferriere echoes in his exuberance when explaining his job to myself.

A peach tree flowers before it bears fruit. Peaches are a “not for sale” commodity at Ogonowski Farm.

Laferriere states, “I think it's important to understand the importance of the [farming] industry. I think it's too easy in today's technology-driven world to forget the work that goes into industries like farming and agriculture. I’d say working on a farm will definitely help you build character.”

Another aspect of working at Ogonowski Farm that Laferriere enjoys is the daily schedule, or lack thereof. Each day on the farm is different, as there are days when hours are spent preparing hay on tractors, delivering or stacking hay, completing landscaping around the farm, or completing construction projects and other odds and ends. Jim Ogonowski teaches his employees a number of skills, and the business of farming in general calls for an ability to be adaptable and prepared for anything during your day. In fact, I asked Laferriere to try and explain a typical day on the farm, and he laughed before answering.

“That's a hard question to answer as the actual work day can vary vastly from the intended plan for the day. If I were to guess I would say it consists of loading trucks with hay to be delivered to a customer, tending the fields on the tractor, and then delivering the hay we loaded on the trucks.”

Laferriere sits on what will soon be the base of a mobile refrigerator for produce that he helped construct.

A farmer’s typical day, especially one in high school or college, does not come with typical work hours either. The employees of Ogonowski Farm usually only have a rough idea of how long their day may go, and they must be prepared to work long hours under the sun.

“It’s tough to know how long you’ll work each day you come in,” says Laferriere. “We have a busy time in the summer where we can be working eight-plus hour days for a while. Then we can work only around four hours or so for a while too. You also can’t typically do any work when it’s raining either, so Jim has to watch for that too.”

The unpredictable nature is only one of the things Laferriere must prepare for. As one of the farm’s senior employees he is partly responsible for monitoring the daily happenings of the farm, with the added responsibility of reporting back to boss Jim Ogonowski.

“Jim gives me a lot of responsibility, but I appreciate it,” says Laferriere. “He trusts me to do a good job, which means a lot.”

Laferriere stands in front of the farm’s largest tractor, which is used to spray chemicals and fertilizer throughout the fields.

Working on a farm is something that not everyone may dream of doing, but it has provided Laferriere with years of experience and abilities that he can carry with him beyond his time at Ogonowski Farm. As he completes his studies and moves into the field of Communication upon graduation, he will likely move away from a manual labor occupation like agriculture. However, the experience is something that he will hold close to him forever.

“I will look back on [my time on the farm] favorably. It will be something I will be proud to tell my children I did as a young man,” concludes Laferriere.

A first job indeed.

A 2155 Tractor, a common model on Ogonowski Farm, in storage until summer.

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solonerdbird · 5 years

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My review of the first 12 episodes of the anime Carole and Tuesday, the English dubbed version, currently on Netflix.

Mumble Jumble Transcription:

Hi, this is K.S. Garner and you’re listening to the Solo Nerd Bird Podcast and today I want to talk about Carole and Tuesday, the first twelve episodes that are on Netflix, currently. [This is] part one of the [review] since there’s only twelve episodesI believe as of today September 26th of 2019 is only 23 episodes it maybe 24, I'm not sure as of right now so we’ll jump straight into the Introduction which is actually the production of the show just to give everybody their credit so no one gets upset with me.

So the original story was created by Shinichiro Watanabe, the same creator of Samurai Champool, Space Dandy and my personal favorite Space Cowboy. Like I have the ship, I can't name it right now but I have it [tattooed] on me right now and I’m thinking about getting another one I'm not really sure yet. So it was produced by Bones Studio which they've also done Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, My Hero Academia, Mob Psycho 100 just to name a few and the music is by flyingDog Studios or Productions I’m not really sure what they will go by and it was founded in 1997 and if you ever Google flying dog the studio or Productions that does music it’s actually stylized as a lowercase ‘f’ and a capital ‘D’ all one word. Yeah, it took me awhile to actually find it. But like I said, Netflix is airing Carole and Tuesday and they bought the international distribution rights to it and so they're airing the English dubbed version of it and they aired it August 30th of 2019 but the original show in his native Japanese Ashley are April 10th of 2019 like I said we're sticking to the American or English dub version currently on Netflix.

So, let’s get straight into it. Who are Carole and Tuesday. So I'm going to recite the blurb that's on of their official website which is, ‘A chance meeting brings them together. They want to sing. They want to make music. Together they feel like they might just have a chance.’ Carole herself she is, I guess you can say the African-American, I'm not sure if she was even American but she talks with an American accent she's the African-American character on the show she's an orphan works odd part time jobs to make ends meet while living in her landlord's former storage unit. Tuesday, obviously if Carol was the black girl Tuesday is the white girl who’s family considers her to be lazy, unmotivated, with no aspirations in life other than to create and play music. So they both meet on this bridge, like Carol just got fired from one of her odd part time jobs again and being on this bridge while playing her piano and Tuesday’s just captivated by this girl and they all girls,they’re both teenagers in America they’re both still minors. Anyway, they are girls so I'm going to be referring to them as girls or maybe ladies or women but they are technically still anyway when they both me on the bridge. Like I said Tuesday's just captivated by Carole while she’s playing her piano but then they get run off byt security because they’re not supposed to be playing on the bridge. But they meet back up at Carole’s apartment and they just start exchanging their vastly different upbringings, right, and it's just, this is just the beginning of this very beautiful, loyal friendship and quote on quote “the driving force behind the Miraculous 7 Minutes”. There’s just visions of the miraculous 7 Minutes in the beginning of every episode. it's like Gus who’s actually their manager, you'll get to see where he comes into play maybe what I want to say about the second, the second episode, it's not a spoiler, I promise. But he comes into play and he describes, you know,it was this miraculous time it those 7 minutes and you know we'll get into that part but right now we have to go all the way back to how they met and how I met them and how we got to this point, right.

In my opinion, this whole thing would be my opinion so in my opinion, as of right now I love this show. The World building combined with past but the ever so relevant pop culture in music from Earth to the current lifestyle and environment on Mars has Shinichiro written all over it just like I said I'm getting a lot of Cowboy Bebop feels I'm actually getting a lot of Steven Universe feels too which is probably why I really like this show. It has those musical elements I think combined with the action adventure and the loyalty of the friendship and friendship is tested at some point not even at some point like throughout these 12 episodes, the first twelve episodes and if this is what it is in the first twelve episodes I wonder what they’re going to do in the next 12 right.

The Musical part, like I said just give me a lot of Steven Universe feels. I'm not really big into musicals as I would like to be but this is definitely, you're scratching the surface of musicals so the musical part, there’s supposed to be a soundtrack release it actually just got pushed back there was a post on their Instagram page that is going to be pushed back I think like maybe another month but there is no official release date. I personally don't skip into the next episodes like you wouldn't, like with other shows you just skip right into it instead of waiting for it to count down for a bathroom break like I don't need a bathroom break. These episodes are only like 20 minutes long if you just skip straight into it. I don't even bother doing that. The opening sequence, the opening theme song just me and the closing theme song “Hold Me Down”, I mean, “Hold Me Now” I sorry. They’re super, super catchy and I find myself…

[horrendous singing]

I can't wait for the soundtrack I'm going to be going to get in my car I just I can't wait anyway the main vocalist are as follows Carole is played by I believe you pronounce her name is Nai Bri.XX Tuesday by Celeina Ann. I believe her name is Alisa, she voices Angela, she’s like their musical rival. You have Crystal who’s voiced by Lauren Dyson and Skip was played by the musician Thundercat. I don’t think I ever heard of that before Thundercat before this show but I'm definitely following him now and I'm definitely getting a lot of Thundercat in Skips cuz at first I thought okay Skips is kind of like a muscular Childish Gambino who doesn't rap. He just kind of like does all the singing parts and he plays an electrical guitar. But once I looked up Thundercat and his music, I was like, okay, was this character actually made for Thundercat. I'm getting a lot of Thundercat in Skips, Skip. Skips is from Regular Show, not to be confused. But then again he's the one that probably wrote the songs so it makes a lot more sense. And then with Crystal she's like the Beyonce of Mars. Beyonce has transcended onto Mars and this is what it is, you know. So I just, that's what I'm getting with them. Like I said before I even found out about Thundercat, I was referring to him like a Childish Gambino even like Pharrell again that doesn't rap he just does all the singing parts and he plays the guitar like maybe [coughs] excuse me, like Lenny Kravitz. I only picked those artists cause those are the ones that I like, come straight to mind for me they just happened to be black artists. I think I picked black artists because Skip is black (??) but you can watch, just go and watch the show. I highly recommend watching it that's why I'm doing this for you. Highly recommend you watch it and it's alright.

So there’s another part of the show that made me a little bit hesitant with watching it. It was the fact that Carole, the black girl is African American or black like I just said and she's one of the title characters. I was kind of afraid of how they were going to portray her, like she has dreadlocks and she's not Bohemian but she kind of skips to her own beat. And I like, erm, I kinda wonder how they’re going to do this but there is no type of racial prejudice on this show I guess because it’s the martial environment is on its humans and AI with or like robots whatever you want to call them. That's pretty much it on this show. It’s not like humans and a variety of creatures like on Star Trek or Star Wars, you know, living together anything like that it's just humans and AI. But I, from what I can see there’s no real prejudices. I mean, there’s gender that comes into play, like the scale of gender that varies or that could possibly very. I don't want to touch too much on that because then that would be a spoiler and we don't do spoilers, no we do not! But like I said, they did a really good job. There was at one-point where there was like, like a gangster rapper or that he was going to try to do something like that but then it was like the exact opposite. That's what I was hoping for and that's exactly what they did. He did the exact opposite of what he physically, what he visually look like, what he tried to portray himself because I'm pretty sure other people of color other black people specifically since the title character is black can relate to this about how they'll watch something that they're interested in but then they get into it and the characters being betrayed as one of those stereotypes. You know big lipped, overly sexualized, lazy, pipe smoking, hip-hop loving & ghetto fab, baggy clothed; co-worker, mistress, hobo or a dangerous person that the protagonist is told to avoid at all times or you see them, cross the street every chance you get but thankfully this isn't it.

Shinichiro roll portrays Carole as strong-willed, self-sufficient, optimistic, silly and resourceful even from her lack of connections money from a familial network. She isn't bitter, she isn't jaded by being, I guess, being left behind of our family. She's been unable to find a way to get by and live her own life and pretty much define herself. She doesn't throw Tuesday up, Tuesday's up bringing back at her face, like, oh you come from money hey can, I can I get some, you know and you can't do nothing so you might as well on back home like I haven't really no need for you. Whereas Tuesday's ignorant of the world around her and is easily compromised, Carole count steps in I don't even think as a big sister, I kind of see them as equals in a way but Carole shows Tuesday that independence and confidence in herself can bring more competency... competency into her life than the abundance of wealth and connections through her family could ever for her. Like this, this is so much better like with or without money if you're confident in yourself if you understand you know...how to wash your own clothes, how to cook food for yourself, how to finesse your way in and out of these various part-time jobs like Carole has you'll go further in life, you know. You'll do better, maybe not further but you'll do better and you’ll appreciate everything a lot more than just with the use of your money. Just like, you just threw your money at whatever to get whatever you want like this is better than that. Shinichiro, the animators and all of the creators, they've done a wonderful job, right.

I would like to get more into the musical aspects unfortunately, like I said we (clap) don't (clap) do (clap) spoilers (calp) so highly recommend you watch the show. You know really getting into it like I have watch, listen, decide for yourself. A lot of this like I said he's my own opinion of it, of the characters, of how they have been portrayed, how other characters have (inaudible), have been portrayed. Watch, listen, make up your own minds. If I missed anything, if you want to comment, question, please go ahead and, and send me those comments and questions (laughs). Maybe some concerns maybe you want to expand a little bit more yourself just go ahead and, and shoot me an email my social and my email will be up. And like I said, the show has been great, I can't wait to watch the next 12 episodes. I'm not sure if they're available on, on uh, Crunchyroll yet or if I have to wait another year. I mean so be it. If I have to I will but this show has been really interesting and it's helping me get back into anime slowly so like, I, I can't wait. I tell as many people as I can about this show Carole and Tuesday, is amazing. And when I put up my interest in doing an episode about Carole and Tuesday my Instagram just blew up and so I was like okay let me hurry up and watch the rest of this so I can go ahead and put up my review. So as of right now, this is only the first part. Once I'm able to get my hands on the, um, next 12 episodes I'm going to go ahead and just film the next one for you guys.

So thanks for listening. This is KS Garner and you have been listening to the Solo Nerd Bird Podcast.

Email: [email protected]

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IG: solonerdbirdpodcast

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angelofberlin2000 · 5 years

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In his 14 minutes of screentime in Always Be My Maybe, Netflix’s latest rom-com phenomenon, 54-year-old Keanu Reeves — now 30 years into his stardom — skewers and subverts the personas we’ve come to attach to him.

Reeves, playing an outsized version of himself, cuts an imposing figure in his introduction. Time slows to a crawl. All eyes gravitate toward the velvet-jacketed figure with striking beauty and prickly charisma. After his entrance — a show for everyone in the farcical restaurant Maximal — he slides toward Ali Wong’s celebrity chef Sasha, offering spiritual platitudes in the face of her unfettered lust. “I missed your thumbs,” she breathily exhales. “I missed your soul” is his reply.

It’s a maniacally delightful performance that both reminds audiences of Reeves’s place in Asian-American Hollywood history and allows him to flex improvisational skills as he cycles through the various masks we have grafted onto him. There’s the impossibly otherworldly Keanu, who says with utmost sincerity, “The only stars that matter are the ones that you see when you dream.” There’s action-star Keanu, who smashes a vase against his own head in a game of Icebreaker and easily puts the jealous protagonist, Marcus (Randall Park), in a headlock — fully committed, physically graceful, and beautifully dangerous. The Keanu of internet memes and viral threads is here, too, in the very fact that he’s playing himself.

Reeves is having a dynamite year with the success of Always Be My Maybe, the outrageously violent John Wick Chapter 3: Parabellum, and Toy Story 4, in which he plays Canada’s greatest stunt driver, Duke Caboom. (Another sly nod perhaps? While born in Beirut, Reeves — who is of Chinese-Hawaiian and British ancestry — was raised in Toronto.) The actor’s more recent evolution into a meme may flatten his complexities, but it does signal why he has endured all this time, despite the persistent claim that he’s a bad actor, or just a limited one. As I’ve contended in the past, this is a gross misreading of a great actor. In her tremendous 2007 masterwork The Star Machine, film professor and historian Jeanine Basinger praises Reeves amongst his generational contemporaries: “Reeves is a neo-star fighting the concept of stardom itself, working steadily against persona to the point where no one has a clear idea of who Reeves is onscreen anymore. This has hurt him, but it has also allowed him to maintain versatility that means more to him than fame. […] His career would have been limited, and thus short lived. Instead, he has used his freedom to move on and slowly force audiences to accept him as a real actor.”

Just take a look at the arc of his career — as a teenager going through an existential crisis in the blackhearted wonder River’s Edge (1986); the affably dimwitted Theodore “Ted” Logan from Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure (1989) and its sequel; the bodaciously supple and yearning FBI agent and surfer Johnny Utah in Point Break (1991); a bruisingly courteous SWAT officer in Speed (1994); the beatific savior Neo in The Matrix (1999); the violent redneck in The Gift (2000); an occult detective radiating self-loathing and suicidal yearnings in Constantine (2005); and of course, the titular tenderhearted and violently dangerous assassin of the John Wick franchise. In looking at all of his performances, I am reminded of what the great Roger Ebert wrote in his review of the Bill & Ted sequel back in the early ‘90s: “I have seen Keanu Reeves in vastly different roles (the FBI man in the current Point Break, for example), and am a little astonished by the range of these performances.”

Throughout his career, Reeves has eschewed obvious transformation in favor of something trickier and more subtle. What has allowed him to remain a star, 30 years later, is a blend of virility, vulnerability, and an aura of mystery, hearkening to a bygone era of stardom that contradicts the current moment, which requires stars to seem endlessly accessible; his sheer joy for the medium that makes him a cinematic sensualist; his racial dimensions as a star; and his gimlet-eyed understanding of the female gaze. These qualities are unique in the current market of stardom in Hollywood, allowing him to straddle various cinematic contexts with ease — mainstream romantic comedies, somber indie flicks, gloriously decadent action flicks.

They come through in one of his earliest films, My Own Private Idaho, a meditative character study about two young hustlers — Mike Waters (River Phoenix), a shy narcoleptic in search of a sense of home, and the strikingly beautiful Scott Favor (Reeves), a trust-fund kid slumming it until his inheritance kicks in at 21. Reeves and his late co-star imbue their characters with a particular mix of virility, vulnerability, and mystery. I’d argue that all the greatest leading men in the annals of Hollywood stardom have existed at this intersection to varying degrees — something I feel has been lacking from modern male stars, partially because they are being formed in franchises that lack interest in the visceral aspects of humanity. (It helps that Reeves has declined offers to join Marvel, even though they’ve been trying to woo him to their stable for years.) Humphrey Bogart’s cool is consistently undercut by his own anger and self-loathing. William Holden held something dark behind his megawatt smile and gleaming blond locks. Paul Newman always felt a touch remote, like he was hiding bruised aspects of himself from the audience. Marlon Brando, of course, epitomizes these qualities. Reeves is brimming with similar contradictions. He reflects this tradition by being at once beatifically still and emotionally expressive, defined by loneliness and a yearning to be saved from it.

In My Own Private Idaho, Reeves is the object of desire not only for Mike but the camera itself. Deep into the film, Mike timidly reveals his love to Scott while they camp out in the desert, a fire crackling before them. Phoenix plays Mike as wild with energy he has no real outlet for, leading to an awkward physicality. Reeves grants his character a languid brio. He takes up space, laying close to the fire, his head dipped back to study Mike as he timidly expresses his feelings. He’s outstretched, willowy, and aware of Mike’s gaze; he examines the weight of it. The scene reveals one of Reeves’s greatest skills as an actor: being an active listener. As he studies Mike, he invites and toys with his feelings. “I only have sex with a guy for money,” he notes offhandedly as if it were a random truth, not a response to a declaration of love. But just as the prickliness of his character comes into view (foreshadowing later betrayals), Reeves displays a burnishing sincerity. Arms outstretched, he says, “Let’s go to sleep,” and proceeds to cradle Mike.

The full-bodied listening Reeves exhibits in My Own Private Idaho is a hallmark of his work opposite women as well. Reeves is a great example of what Roswell New Mexico writer Alanna Bennett deemed The Look: “The number one thing a man in a romcom needs, TV or movie, is the ability to look at their love interest REALLY WELL. The man barely even needs to speak if he just knows how LOOK at a person.” Reeves has given that look in multiple contexts — his face is bright with awe when he looks at Carrie-Anne Moss’s Trinity in the Matrix films; it has a touch of admiration when he gazes at Sandra Bullock in Speed; and it is filled with unmitigated desire for Diane Keaton’s Erica Barry in Something’s Gotta Give.

Nancy Meyer’s 2003 ode to beachside property and an older woman’s sensual awakening stars Keaton as a successful playwright who finds herself falling for two very different men — Harry Sanborn (Jack Nicholson), who briefly dated her daughter (how this didn’t disqualify him immediately continues to baffle me) and has to go through a damn heart attack before he can see what’s attractive in a woman around his own age; and Julian Mercer (Reeves), a sweet doctor with a penchant for black turtlenecks who is immediately smitten when they meet.

In the film, Reeves is attuned to the female gaze in its most literal incarnation — an understanding of how women see the world, what they want from it, and how they make sense of desire. During a dinner scene with Julian, Erica’s face and neck are flush. She’s skittish and nervous in the face of his undeniable — but never disrespectful — sexual and romantic interest. Reeves’s face shows the depth and breadth of The Look, as he glides from teasing lust to a spark of genuine intellectual attraction. At one point, when their conversations turns to women his own age, he says, “I’ve never met one I’ve reacted to” — stumbling for a moment, as if shocked by the depth of his own feeling — “… quite like this. When something happens to you that hasn’t happened before, don’t you have to at least find out what it is?” He’s a man overcome and humbled by his own desire. Is there anything sexier? Then he leans in, his face going soft, gently kissing the groove where her neck meets her shoulder. “I knew you’d smell good,” he whispers. Only Reeves could pull off a line like that.

Many actors of Reeves’s caliber are too invested in being in the spotlight of a scene to play a romantic lead like this. After the fall of the studio system in the 1960s, Hollywood no longer looked at women as a viable market, and while romantic comedies continued to get made, going forward, there was a notable shift in whose desire was centered — and how little male actors seemed interested in exploring romance and desire. Reeves’s willingness brought another layer of intimacy to his relationship with his audience, offering a more flexible, vulnerable portrait of masculinity that sets him apart from other name stars.

That intimacy is key to Reeves’s longevity. It’s what makes him such a great cinematic sensualist. In 2009, Matt Zoller Seitz argued that directors Michael Mann, Terrence Malick, David Lynch, Wong Kar-wai, and Hou Hsiao-hsien were the “the decade’s best sensualists filmmakers.” He wrote, “They share a defining trait: a lyrical gift for showing life in the moment, for capturing experience as it happens and as we remember it. The sensualists are bored with dramatic housekeeping. They’re interested in sensations and emotions, occurrences and memories of occurrences.” I’d argue that being a cinematic sensualist is a distinction that can apply to acting as well. For actors, it is about bringing texture and complication to a film, existing wholly in the moment, and a keen interest in the human body.

When we watch films, the body keeps score as much as the mind does. Reeves demonstrates an understanding of this. This is apparent in the delicate neck kiss in Something’s Gotta Give; the careful way his hand skitters across broken glass before deciding on which shard to slit his wrists with in Constantine; the calm he engenders with merely the sound of his voice in Thumbsucker. But it’s most impactful in his career as an action star. In many ways, the John Wick franchise is the perfect marriage of director and star. The third film is a tactile feast. Consider a scene early in John Wick 3, in which Reeves methodically takes apart and reassembles a gun for a single shot. This scene is, of course, a testament to the character’s skill as an assassin. But it also acts as a reminder of how out of step John is with the world around him, betraying a desire for the quieter moments in life — despite the brutal milieu he finds himself in — and a strange empathy for the world around him, whether it be object or animal. This allows a humanity to glitter throughout his performances that often feels absent from many action franchises that sacrifice character on the altar of plot.

There’s another part of Reeves’s star image I suspect has played into our abiding fascination with him. Until Always Be My Maybe, the most under-discussed part of Reeves’s persona was his race. Late in his slim but potent book-length essay Mixed-Race Superman: Keanu, Obama, and Multicultural Experience, Will Harris astutely writes about a particular aspect of the 2005 film A Scanner Darkly that, metatextually, speaks to Reeves’s whole career:

“To be mixed-race is to exist in a state of paradox. Race is an illusion that depends on purity and singleness. […] In A Scanner Darkly, set in a paranoid surveillance state in the near-future, Keanu plays a government agent called Bob Arctor, who because he works undercover, has to wear a ‘scramble suit’ in the office. The suit projecting 1.5 million constantly shifting representations of different people — male and female, black, white, Latinx — keeps his identity cloaked. Even the people he works with have no idea who he is.”

Like his persona, Reeves’s face itself is considered unplaceable. Growing up, he never read as white to me, but he has read that way to Hollywood, which allowed his career to be mutable in ways that very few people of color ever experience. But for much of the moviegoing audience, seeing his face has always been a point of connection. It’s the undercurrent of why his turn in Always Be My Maybe felt like such a significant moment in his career. It was as though something had been revealed about him for the first time, even though it had been present all along. That it was such a joyful, brazenly comedic role added yet another twist on his image. There was a sense that, even after 30 years in the spotlight, Reeves can still surprise us.

#keanu reeves #why we can't stop watching keanu reeves #angelica jade bastien #vulture

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the69thdimension · 5 years

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When I was 19, I was working in a Greyhound station in California. Not long before I quit, this guy named Jorge was hired. He seemed a lot older, but was probably just in his mid/late 20’s, and had a wry sense of humor about life in general, but not in a jaded way in the slightest. I usually remember him with an infectious smile on his face and a slight hunch to get his tall frame down to my height when we’d be hanging out. We hit it off pretty well; but then, he was the kind of person who probably hit it off with most people he met.

One night, during the 2 hour overlap between his shift (swing) and mine (graveyard), he noticed I had a book about the Black Panther Party in the back room – I was reading about them a lot at this time – ready to bust out in the long break between the 2am departing bus and the 4:30 arrival, as long as I could glide through the buffing and waxing of the stupid floor in good time – the bane of my worklife existence. Jorge asked if I knew about the Chicano Movement in LA during the mid-60’s to early 70’s. I told him no, I was not familiar with it, and so he schooled me on some basic points and landmark events of this movement, and tied it in with the milieu of the Black Power movement I had already been reading about. He spoke with thorough knowledge, passion and pride, and had uncles who had been involved. I thought this was super cool of him, and it really endeared Jorge to me. Another night, I was listening to Pharaoh Sanders’ “The Creator Has A Master Plan” on the PA system, and tried to show him how fantastically great the moment is when, after devolving into complete noise, it rolls back in with a strong upbeat African highlife melody and loud, passionately pounded tambourine. He was having none of this music though, and told me I was out of my gourd listening to this freeform cacophony, slowly shaking his head at me. Ha! This endeared Jorge to me even more.

On one of the last nights we worked together – by this time we were both on swing, as the coveted (okay, probably only by me) graveyard shift had been eliminated – just before I gave myself a free ticket to Seattle and back and then quit, took a month’s journey to the NW, went back to California just long enough to wrap up both my bands and then moved to Olympia, Jorge came in wearing this badass RUN DMC t-shirt. I flipped out a little – maybe more than a little – shouting, “Dude, your shirt is SO fucking cool, I can’t handle it!!” He laughed, went to his locker and threw his Greyhound shirt on over it. We worked the busy evening hours, which gradually and inevitably slid into another late night of scattered weirdos and free pinball, and then the sudden surge of exhausted humanity when the 1:30 southbound arrival from SF pulled in. The madness subsided, 2am came, and Jorge and I clocked out. He took off his blue shirt with the official Greyhound patch and stripe; tossed it in the locker; took off his RUN DMC shirt; placed it on top of the locker; put his Greyhound shirt back on; and then handed me the RUN DMC shirt.

These days, I probably would cry if someone did this for me. At 19, my emotions, while all over the map at any given instant, did not extend to allowing me to cry – whether in public or jerking off in my bathroom. (What?) But I was flooded with amazement at his generous kindness. He had gotten the shirt in 1986 on the Raising Hell tour, with LL Cool J, the Beastie Boys and Whodini opening. (!!!) It seemed like a generation ago at the time, but that was, what, only 7 years prior? He obviously loved this artifact as much as I did. I protested, of course. But he wanted to pass it on to me.

In the big scheme of things, this is a minor act of kindness. I didn’t NEED the shirt off Jorge’s back. I was making, like 25¢ above the $5 minimum wage – ha! – but only supporting myself, and that was honestly more than enough at the time. (He, on the other hand, had made reference to a wife and kids, was a fair amount older than me, yet was working for the same shit wage I was; even at the time, I knew this had to be incredibly hard for him). But his action has stuck with me through all these years; just as his old shirt has. I can’t see ever getting rid of it. Yes, it’s cool as fuck; but what it embodies encompasses so much more. Generosity, education, sharing material things but also sharing knowledge, culture, heritage, and life experiences quite different from each other.

I can’t remember what generation American immigrant Jorge was, but if he wasn’t born in Mexico, his parents certainly were. Through his openness, kindness and generosity, he made a big impact on my life in the mere month or two we knew each other; and one that has stuck with me through the years. The more that our government clamps down on our southern border, the less chances we have to be moved by, and learn from, people with vastly different life experiences from our own. In farming, there’s that term “monoculture.” It could easily refer to the human experience as well, if we are given less and less opportunity to interact with beautiful people with different histories from our own. This simple t-shirt, as badass as it is, is representative of so much more than a concert from 33 years ago. It reminds me of the kind of world I would love everyone to be allowed to live the rest of our lives in. A world rich with varied culture, and that is worth fighting for.

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thequeerblr · 5 years

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by Brittany B. | 10/30/2019

The Queerblr is honored to present the cover art for Grimmer Intentions, the second installment of the Tales from the Grim series by Jodi Hutchins!

She screwed up. She broke protocol. She saved a life. Grim Reaper Margo Petrov may have resurrected a drowned surfer on the brink of death, but she isn’t earning any awards or receiving employee of the month from Corporate; she’s under more scrutiny from the Grim governing body than ever before. Since she has a massive secret that could spell disaster if revealed, she sure as hell doesn’t want to be in the spotlight, in any form.

Margo vows to keep her head down and stay out of trouble, reaping her quota of spirits lest she cause more problems for herself and the woman she saved with an illegal blood bond. She certainly shouldn’t be opening doors to the Fae lands or offering her neck to an Empusa woman suffering from bloodlust, but Margo’s laundry list of bad decisions keeps growing. With the threat of becoming decommissioned by Corporate looming in her periphery, Margo stumbles deeper into the politics of her people and soon realizes their intentions are far worse than she initially thought.

I MEAN LOOK AT IT!

I don’t normally talk about the cover art of a book in my reviews, but when I read The Grim Assistant in July, I remember really enjoying the cover art because it is vastly different than most of books in its genre. The wispy Grim Reaper on the horizon and the singular silhouette of a woman along the water is starkly different than often scantily clad, provocatively posed women of both the romance and paranormal genres. The cover is not only refreshing, but intriguing to new readers, too. The old saying goes “don’t judge a book by its cover,” but when the cover is refreshing to look at, chances are you’re going to be more inclined at least flip through the pages. And when you flips through the pages of this one (or read the excerpts available online), I promise you won’t be disappointed.

And when you place the cover art of both books side by side, it is abundantly clear that you’re reading the same series because we have the same wispy reaper and a woman silhouetted on the water’s edge and small details on both women that are crucial to their particular story arcs:

I’ve had the pleasure of reading Grimmer Intentions and, let me tell you, I thoroughly enjoyed it! The book takes place immediately after the ending of The Grim Assistant. Grimmer Intentions follows the perspectives of two characters that readers met in the first book who couldn’t be more opposite and they both have substantially different and dire circumstances they deal with throughout the book.

My two second review of Grimmer Intentions is that the tension is on point, the characters are unique and varied, the main two protagonists have distinct individual character arcs and organic chemistry that grows from frenemies to lovers with the help of some precarious situations. This book further develops the world the Hutchins established in The Grim Assistant and sets up the series for another installment and introduces a fun new cast of diverse queer characters. Grimmer Intentions isn’t even out yet and I’m already excited for the whatever book three holds for the Tales from the Grim series.

Without further ado, here is an exclusive excerpt from Grimmer Intentions:

A gentle breeze caressed her face, soft and rippling like the ocean that lay beyond the sandy beach. The sand nearly scorched the bare soles of her feet, and the sun poured warmth over her back. Glancing up, Jackie took in the otherworldly hues of the sky, visible brushstrokes lining the silver clouds.

A lucid dream, she realized. Months had passed since she’d experienced one, and the revelation along with the strange recent events of her life left her with a deep foreboding. Glossy water licked the shore, spilling over the sand before receding back. She’d been to this dream beach before, nestling herself under the ever-present warmth from the sun and enjoying the calm. Meditation brought her to the same place.

Serenity. Peace. Tranquility. These qualities kept bringing her back to the only place she could find her balance. She was free from the physical stressors of keeping her beast at bay, holding back the bloodlust associated with her being, and splitting her two lives apart. Nothing bad would come of her here in her safe place, and she didn’t have to veil herself in a disguise, depending upon who she was around.

A murder of crows flew overhead before dipping into the ocean. With each wave, they bobbed along with the oddly colored water. Streams of dark blue swirled with gray dappled with white brushstrokes. The painted landscape elicited a smile from Jackie, and she continued her walk down the beach. Puffy white clouds obscured the tangerine-tinged sun, causing thick rays to shimmer over the sand. Oh, how she wanted to paint the scene in front of her, to capture the elegance of the orange-glazed sand or the crows afloat on the water’s surface. Light flickered in her line of sight, and she yanked her gaze from the bobbing black birds to the assaulting ray.

Jackie squinted to see where the glint had originated from. None other than Margo the Grim lounged against an overturned lifeguard stand, shaving a piece of driftwood with a thick pocketknife. The sun reflected on the metal surface and shone into Jackie’s eyes again as she started toward the enigmatic woman.

The scenario was very similar to when the two women met for the first time in Brent’s home. Margo’s lip ring had caught a glimmer of light, shining directly in Jackie’s eyes. Shortly after that, Margo had accidentally called her a vampire, and upon Jackie correcting her, Margo’s response had been rude, leading Jackie to kick her in the leg. She assumed this is where her subconscious conjured the action from.

But this is different, Jackie thought. She’d dreamt of people before but couldn’t recall the last time she’d brought someone within her place of serenity. Of course, Margo was Jackie’s own doing, her own mental depiction of the Grim, dressed in red flannel pajamas, not that Jackie could ever imagine Margo wearing such an outfit to bed. Margo appeared so out of place but completely where she belonged.

“Hi,” Jackie said as she stopped next to the lifeguard stand.

Margo looked up and smiled wide. “Well, isn’t this fucking weird?” Her cerulean gaze was the strangest color Jackie had the pleasure to see. Margo’s eyes reminded her of a precious stone she found at the beach one day, the vibrant azure kyanite calling to her from beneath the tawny sand. She still had the rock, tucked away in the tiny tin box beside her pillow along with a few other gems. However, a fire shifted alight within the woman’s eyes, casting flames in the irises, something Jackie had never witnessed before meeting Margo. Whimsical. The last word Jackie would ever associate with the woman sitting on the ground had become the only descriptor relatively close to defining Margo in that moment.

“Sit with me,” Margo offered, scooting over.

Jackie settled beside Margo, who lifted her arm and wrapped it around Jackie. Surprisingly, she found the contact incredibly comforting, and she nestled into Margo’s side. This was definitely new.

“There’s something to be said about the beauty of a crow’s shadow,” Margo muttered, her voice far off.

Jackie smiled. “What does that mean?”

Turning to face her, Margo offered her a crooked smirk. “I don’t know but it sounded good, didn’t it? It makes about as much sense as me being here. I feel like I stepped into one of your paintings.”

The black bird hopped over, tilting its head to gaze up at Jackie. She held out her hand and the creature jumped onto the presented palm with a flutter of their wings. “I have to admit, I love crows. I think my background is to blame for that. Pretty sure all good Empusae have to love black cats and crows.”

Margo chuckled. “I think that’s a prerequisite, yeah?” The crow fluttered away.

Sighing, Jackie relaxed against Margo, placing her hand on Margo’s thigh, surprised when warmth spread through her from their contact. “Usually when I have these dreams, I’m the only cognitive individual. I mean, besides the occasional talking animal. Why are you here?” Jackie didn’t expect an answer because she didn’t know why Margo was here. Obviously, the woman beside her wasn’t really Margo, not in her dreams. The woman next to her was nothing but a figment of her own imagination, no matter how her subconscious rendered the real Margo.

“I don’t know.” Margo averted her gaze. “I wanted to be with you.”

“With me?”

Margo blinked, her lower lip disappearing between her teeth. “Yeah. I don’t know what any of this means. Fuck, maybe I’m having an existential crisis.” Margo laughed loudly to her own inside joke that Jackie didn’t get. “There’s just something about you, and I can’t figure out what it is. I don’t think it’s only because of the whole bitey thing, which is amazing, by the way.” She smirked, cupping her hand under Jackie’s jawline. “You’re incredible.”

Jackie flung her hair over a shoulder. “You’re just addicted to me.”

Sincerity passed Margo’s face. “Yeah, I think I am. I wanted to text you but thought that would’ve been too weird.” She smirked. “Not that this is any less weird,” she said, glancing around at the painted seascape in front of them.

Jackie also gazed out at the water lapping at the shoreline, noting the soft brushstrokes of white foam lingering on the water’s edge, the textured grains of sand at her feet. The calming rush of the ocean lolled Jackie into a comfort, one she sought when she came to this spot to be alone, to meditate. To share the intimate location with anyone besides the occasional talking animal was something she wasn’t accustomed to.

“Jackie.”

She turned to Margo again. “Yeah?”

“We can’t be a couple.”

A painful pang drenched Jackie’s brief serenity. “What are you talking about?”

Margo frowned, her expression uncomfortable. “I have to leave; well, I might have to leave the country.”

“Why?”

Leaning forward, Margo wrapped her arms around her knees, bunching up her pajama pants. Jackie never imagined witnessing fear on Margo’s features, but she couldn’t deny the dread marring her expression. “I can’t tell you, but I have to leave America. There’s so much going on with Corporate, and leaving might be my best option, for everyone’s sake.”

“You have to leave here?” Jackie whispered. No, she rationalized, this all stemmed from the talk she had with Ezra—the conversation about weird things happening with the Grim. Jackie shook her head, as if to shoo away the weird dream. It didn’t work.

Margo peered up at the textured sky as a cotton candy cloud drifted by, her face pensive. “Yeah, maybe. Probably.” She lowered her head and looked at Jackie. “If it comes down to it, I won’t have a choice, Jackie.”

“Yes, you do, there’s always a choice. Why can’t you just stay?”

“Seriously, you have no idea. That’s not your fault; it’s mine.” She paused, shaking her head, then parting her lips as if to speak again but glanced down at her hands instead. Firelight twinkled in her eyes before she vanished from Jackie’s dream completely, a vapor of mist left in her wake. A chill crept into Jackie’s being, and she wrapped her own arms around herself as the cloud where Margo sat dissipated.

“I have some sick sense of creativity,” she said to the crows meandering in the sand a few feet from her.

One of them bobbed its head at her and winked a black button eye. “I concur,” the crow rasped.

Jackie withdrew her flip-flop from her right foot and threw it at the crow, rolling her eyes as she forced herself to wake up.

Grimmer Intentions will be released on December 9th and is available for pre-sale on NineStar Press. If you choose to pre-purchase the book through NineStar Press, you’ll get access to the book three days in advance (December 6)!

The Grim Assistant has a second book for the Tales from the Grim series! Come on over to thequeerblr.com to see our book cover reveal and exclusive excerpt of Grimmer Intentions, by Jodi Hutchins! by Brittany B. | 10/30/2019 The Queerblr is honored to present the cover art for Grimmer Intentions…

#Book 2 #Book Cover Reveal #Book Preview #Grimmer Intentions #Jodi Hutchins #Lesbian Romance #LGBTQ+#sneak peak #wlw books #wlw romance

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fyrapartnersearch · 5 years

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And your next line is...

Strike a pose!

Hello, the name is Aylo and I am a dedicated on and off role-player with a tendency of writing original stories in the hope that one day, my own vision gets pushed out into the world. But that dream is still a far away concept as most of my works are still in the making. Since I am still on summer break, I’ve got some time at my hands that I’m interested to fill it with some juicy writing.   Roleplaying is one of my greatest hobbies on the side! I enjoy it greatly as it gives you the opportunity to build a world and gripping plot with a partner. Also, a little about me before dive into it. You must be at least 18+ of age when you want to start original roleplay with me, just to be upfront and honest with you. I am in my twenties, thus I have no quarrel, or rather much prefer, mature adult themes. I accept anyone, but they have to be willing to fill some of these categories mentioned down below. What I expect is a decent (if not, very good) grasp on grammar, the ability and will to write creatively and shoulder half of the plotting and responsibility as well as the passion for roleplaying. Of course this should be seen as a fun way of passing the time and inspiring one’s muse, but I really like to invest… I wish for my partner to take equal initiative.  

 This request is a bit of an unusual one as I am targeting a fandom that you may have or have not heard about.  Currently I am on the hunt for someone who would like to start a JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure themed RP with me! Yes, as odd as it sounds, but the series had captured my heart in the most bizarre way (I couldn’t resist, apologies) and I simply fell in love with this odd, quirky world of JoJo. I started binging the series a year ago but now, I really became invested and grew to crave for an experience in writing it with a partner!

Regarding which era of the JoJo’s we could take this, I am fairly open, though I have yet to watch Part 5.   Since the world of JoJo is so vastly open and brimming with possibility, there’s no exact limit. Unless of course, the characters are overpowered, then we might have a problem. However I’ve rarely encountered cases, so I wouldn’t worry that much about it. I have a strong penchant for including original characters and ideas that can be added to the pre-existing plot. Also very happy to expand on the given worlds and open to AU’s. Okay so I am a really big nerd when it comes to the supernatural, mysterious, urban myth and fantasy. Love combining those given elements with organised crime, complex characters, cataclysmic events and dark schemes that all unravels as time goes on. JoJo is a perfect breeding ground for it all.

    Which JoJo is the best JoJo?

  In my opinion, I love all of them <3

Just to be frank here!  I am going to list all of the parts I am open and willing to do, down below:

JoJo: Phantom Blood (Part 1) 

JoJo: Battle Tendency (Part 2) 

JoJo: Stardust Crusaders (Part 3) 

JoJo: Diamond is Unbreakable (Part 4)

Now I know there are seasons of the series that I’ve yet to read and watch, but there is so much of the world already, I am perfectly content with focusing the story on those four!    Writing: 3rd person perspective. My writing is wide-ranging and flexible, which means that frequently, word count will go up 1000+ per reply - though it highly depends on the given situation and partner. Quality over quantity as they say - but why not both? I love detail in description, and I am actively seeking someone of the same infamy. My partner should have a basic grasp on grammar, punctuation and somewhat of an interest in knowledgeable writing. I also double! (preferably, but we can always discuss whether it makes sense for our roleplay our not.)

 What it entails: 

Alright, so you are writing with some of mature age. I have 11 years of writing experience when it comes to the game. This will be a fair warning that this request is not for the faint of heart. There will be violence, swearing, gore, intimate scenes, uncomfortable subjects, drama, conflict and other dark themes included within the story. I have few limits but I will respect the boundaries of my partner, so do not shy away from telling me. Just so you know, I won’t fade to black or skip out on the nitty gritty. Go big or go home. Interests: My line of interests are very dynamic when it comes to genres. I love conceiving my own lore inside a stories, be it an original or a pre-existing story. Gothic fantasy among others are one of my favourites. I am not opposed to tapping into some science fiction, action, romance, crime, action or thriller genres, in fact I encourage it. Inspirations for me are Lovecraft, Hellsing, Blade, Underworld, etc. As for the fandom inspired RPs, I am more than willing to bend some rules and be a little indulgent. World building and sharing the burden: You should be active and help me shape the world around our characters. Even if we discuss many things during and before the roleplay, how we wish for things to play out and take its course, I am always happy to be surprised with a secret of my partner’s character I didn’t know before. You don’t need to lay out all your cards on the table… keep it a little mysterious and suspenseful. Just enough so we can work with the ideas, but not completely kill off the suspense. Characters: I write canon as well as OC characters. Faceclaims, GIFs, drawings, mood boards or just a plain physical description is absolutely sufficient. Whatever floats your boat when it comes to visualising your character and their backstory, I’m on board. Characters should be written as opulent, flawed, unique, talented, heroic, villainous, spiteful, angry, and everything in-between figures. In other words, don’t be scared of making them ‘human’, even when they are non-human. Romance: Openly play and accept characters of both genders, preferable m x f pairings, but I am open to m x m and f x f relationships as well. I have more experience with m x f relationships, so I might be more adept with this one. If the chemistry of two characters compel me, I will ship them no matter what! When it comes to sexual scenarios and intimacy (intercourse, foreplay, all that jazz). I encourage erotism, but always in a tasteful, sensual manner (that goes for romance as well). The passion must be felt through the screen, even if it’s just a mere description of someone’s deep train of thought. Content: Drama, violence, implication of sexual content, metamorphosis, symbolism, action, romance, pretty much everything is a-okay. I am unbothered by certain subjects that may or may not be uncomfortable for the general public. Roleplays are fictional stories and we best keep viewing them as such. If there are things you are uncomfortable with, name them and I shall respect those boundaries. But don’t be surprised when suddenly one of our characters bites the dust, or gets tortured. It may be difficult to write and read, but it is all part of the story and furthering the plot. My roleplays imply and involve brutality, mayhem, psychological and physical torture among other things. But I also greatly endorse beauty, serenity and placid moments, scenes or characters. I love it when it comes full circle… everyone- and everything has a beautiful and hideous side. Both should be embraced like Yin and Yang. Communication and friendship: OOC-chat friendly! I love meeting new people and making friends and as we all know, communication is key. Plus it strengthens the compatibility between us. Communication is the alpha and the omega. If there is anything that bothers you, or if you think you are left out in some way (be it a mistake on my part or if we’re both at fault here), don’t be frightened to tell me. Really, it won’t be taken personally since I know that we all slip up every now and then. We’re only human after all. It is also completely sufficient if you only type out a few messages per week. I am super chill about it. It doesn’t bother me re-writing a scene to fit the narrative more. If there are mistakes, they can be corrected - just to get that out there. We can always exchange opinions and see what would benefit the story most. I will also voice my opinion should something arise that could be bothersome. Partnership: An active roleplayer is wanted without a doubt. Can’t do the thinking for two now. Let’s row this boat together Limits: Subject matters I avoid are pedophilia, bestiality, necrophilia, vore, scat, furries and various other bizarre fetishes. Also no one-liners or text-talk messages. The sentences have to be cohesive, coherent and decently structured.    I live in CET central Europe. My response rate varies throughout the weeks, depending on my schedule.  If I should hit a hiatus, I will let you know as soon as possible. I understand when you are busy as well and won’t be able to respond, though I highly appreciate if my partner does disappear without notification. At least give me a heads up on what’s going on so I can adjust and put the roleplay on hold if needed!  Mediums I roleplay on are email and google-docs. I also have Discord in case for OOC chat, but I rather much prefer email at first because Discord can be somewhat messy from time to time.  I prefer if my partner messages me first on email, giving me a brief description of themselves, their cravings as well as ideas. That way I can see if we’re compatible and if it bears any potential.   Message me here:

EMAIL: [email protected] Hope to hear from you soon! Lots of love!    

Sincerely yours, Aylo

#independent roleplay #oc rp #multiple paragraph #para #long term #email #tumblr #aou rp #submission

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