#Downtime Musings (In character conversations)

[godfrey-industries]

"It's a strange paradoxical world we live in."

"A man can be arrested for jaywalking but there's actually no law against trying to take over the world."

#downtime musings (in character conversations)

[dat-dio-backpatch]

You play Drums? PT. 1

Summary: Eddie finds out you play the drums during a Hellfire session, only to later ask you to sub in for Gareth during a Corroded Coffin gig.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Hey so uhhh, this is my first fic for Stranger Things, and the first fic I've ever posted lol. Any feedback is rly appreciated as I really want to improve and write stuff others will enjoy. Also this is a part 1, I'm working on the 2nd part rn so feedback on this will help ensure that pt.2 is as good as possible

~~~~~

The small Hellfire room was oddly quiet, only you, Eddie, and Mike were present despite the session starting in only 10 or so minutes. Usually everyone was here at least 20 minutes early, all pumped and debating on different battle strategies for whatever monster Eddie was gonna throw our way in the game. But today Lucas’s basketball practice was apparently running late, Dustin had hurriedly explained as much before darting out of the room to go find out what everyone else's tardy excuse was. So now there were three, it was awkward despite you having known both Mike and Eddie for so long but they were both focused on their own work that the room was left silent. Eddie had his head buried behind the DM’s screen working on last minute adjustments to the campaign and Mike was furiously scribbling away at what you assumed was homework. Remembering your own long forgotten English paper you decided to copy Mike's idea and use this downtime to actually get something done. 

Pulling out a pile of crumpled up papers and a handful of dull pencils from your backpack you set to work, only to find yourself immedietly bored. Shakespeare was usually far from boring but your dull english teacher somehow found a way to ruin even his most fun plays, so you did what you always do to combat boredom and pulled out your walkman. Popping on your headphones you pressed play and the epic sounds of Mercyful Fate's album “Don’t Break the Oath” soon stomped out all your boredom. As the music continued you found yourself less and less focused on the actual paper and more focused on drumming along to the songs with two of your beat up pencils, having played the drums since middle school you were definitely nailing each beat despite having the music so loud you couldn’t hear anything else. 

“Y/N!” A voice broke you out of your music induced daze, you felt a strong hand shake your shoulder lightly “Y/N?”

You sheepishly remove your headphones and look over to see Eddie standing next to you, looking down at you with a confused, yet still mischevious, expression.  

“Sorry, was I too loud?” You apologize, face flushing red. You’d gotten carried away drumming like that before and it was almost always met with annoyance. 

“No, no definitely not” Eddie brushed off your apology, smile widening. “Do you play the drums?”

“Oh yea I do” you said returning his smile “I’ve been playing since middle school actually” 

“Shit how come you’ve never mentioned it before?” Eddie asked excitedly 

“Never came up I guess” You shrugged, starting to shove your English work back into your backpack before pulling out your dice and character sheet instead.

“Now that could come in handy sometime” Eddie mused, though before he could continue that though Dustin came rushing in with the rest of Hellfire in tow. One look at the clock showed they made it with only seconds to spare and a handful of half assed apologies for their piss poor timing. 

The session picked up almost immediately and went shockingly well despite the group's lack of preparedness, you’d all managed to make it out with your characters only slightly roughed up by Eddie's ruthless hordes of enemies. It all ended with the typical celebration, haphazard cleaning and quick goodbyes as you rushed out to your car before you could get further distracted from the still unfinished english paper crammed in your bag  

~~~

by the time the weekend rolled around You’d already forgotten about your breath conversation with Eddie about your drumming skills, it hadn’t really been that important after all. As much as you wanted to play with the guys they already had Gareth, Corroded Coffin was in no need of a new drummer. Or at least that's what you thought as you marched down your stairs, headed off to your drum set in the garage to start your routine Saturday practice. Sheet music and sticks in hand you weren’t at all expecting the sudden loud knock on your front door, you jumped nearly dropping everything you were holding as the knocking continued even more aggressively than before. You approached the door with caution unsure of whether or not you should open it until a familiar voice called from the other side. 

“Y/N!” It was Eddie, pounding on your door and shouting at the top of his lungs. “Y/N I know you’re home!”

You whipped the door open, fear dissipating into annoyance as Eddie greeted you with his signature mischievous grin.

“God Ed’s you’re lucky my parents aren’t home or you’d have gotten me grounded!” You groaned as his smile widened “What’s so important that you show up out of nowhere screaming like a serial killer?”

“I, well, we, need your help” Eddie said toying with one of his rings as he spoke hurriedly “Corroded Coffins playing a gig down at the Hideaway and we’re missing a drummer, told the guys I could get you to sub in”

“Isn’t Gareth your drummer? You asked, confused, “what happened to him?”

“Gareth got mono” Eddie made a fake gagging sound and feigned throwing up. “That gross shithead got sick the day of our big show, well not really a big show but a gigs a gig right?”

“Ed’s I don’t know how to play any of your songs” You said, suddenly racked with anxiety at the thought of fucking up your friends performance “I’m probably not as good as Gareth either” 

“I’m sure you’ll be fantastic sweetheart, plus I got all the sheet music ready and waiting with the guys and we can practice as long as you want” He said, his smile dropping from mischievous into comforting. “Please can you do me this one favor, I’ll owe you big time”

“You strike a hard bargain I’ll admit” You said, scrunching up your face and pretending to consider his offer “I don't know though, I did have some great saturday plans lined up”

“We both know you’d just be sitting on your couch watching the Exorcist” He teased 

“Hey rude!” You mocked offense “Not really winning me over with that attitude”

“Please will you, oh the great Y/N, play drums with us and really do your best friend a solid?” Eddie clasped his hands together and gave you the widest eyed begging look he could manage 

“Oh alright I’ll play with you guys” You said laughing at his antics, watching as his face lit up in the brightest smile you think you’d ever seen. 

“Thank you, thank you thank you!” Eddie shouted, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up into the air in the tightest hug he could manage. “I owe you big time!”

“Big time!” You chuckled as he spun you around, still not letting you go even when you dropped your sticks and sheet music. “Ok, ok Ed’s you’ve shown your gratitude now put me down”

He stopped spinning you but didn’t put you back down, just held you tight as you found your face startlingly close to his, his bright smile never fading as your eyes met. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks as you both seemed to freeze in the moment, simply staring at each other. 

“So, uh, you can grab whatever you’ll need for practice I’ll wait in the van for you” Eddie said quickly, breaking out of his stunned state with a quick shake of his head. He gently let you back down, pausing as if he were about to say something as you noticed a bright red blush spread across his face. He quickly shook his head again and began fidgeting with his rings. “Yea, I’ll be in the van. I’m really,,, the guys and I are really excited to get to play with you!”

“I’ll be quick, just gotta grab another set of sticks and I’ll be right out” You said, equally as flustered as Eddie. He nodded, offering a small nervous smile before rushing back out to his van, leaving you to retrieve the sticks you dropped along with an extra pair from your room. While in your room you paused, looking out your window down at Eddie's van parked haphazardly in your driveway. You could spot him in the driver's side window, you didn’t mean to be a creep and stare but you couldn’t help yourself. You and Eddie had always been close friends, hugging was nothing new to the two of you so why did that hug feel so,,,, different. Sure he was attractive, you’d had a crush on him since you first met him all the way back in middle school when he still had that stupid buzzcut. But no, you guys were just friends, that's all you;d ever been and you’d long since accepted the fact that's all you’d ever be. So why did that hug feel so different, and why’d it leave both of you blushing like awkward school kids. Not to mention his hasty exit after. It was just, odd, the way it left you feeling like you had butterflies in your stomach and your face still flushed. You quickly pushed all those thoughts aside, it was too much to think about right now and you were on a time crunch.  

As you brushed away all these thoughts and questions you realized you had the sticks in hand, and were still staring down at Eddie. To your surprise, and embarrassment, you realized Eddie was staring back up at you with the same ‘lost in thought’ look and blushing face. You both simultaneously realized you’d each been caught staring and quickly broke eye contact, Eddie turning to raise the volume on whatever metal he’d been playing and you hurrying to get rou shoes on before rushing out to join him. Once you were in the van Eddie took no time pulling out of your driveway, not waiting for you to get your seatbelt on before speeding off down the road. Thankfully the music was so loud conversation was impossible, neither of you really knew what to say anyway. Just an awkward moment between friends, that's all this was. Right? Again you brushed these thoughts away and focused on the road ahead, determined not to let the band down and to enjoy your first professional gig. You could sort out whatever was between you and Eddie when there wasn’t the massive pressure of performing weighing on your shoulders, hopefully you’d have your thoughts and feelings sorted out by then. Hopefully whatever conversation happened wouldn’t be as awkward as this car ride, you glanced over at Eddie as he kept his eyes locked on the road ahead, his face slowly losing the bright red blush you knew for sure you still had. You turned back to the road and tightened your grip on your drum sticks. 

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #eddie munson #corroded coffin #eddie munson x y/n #y/n #fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #drummer reader #hellfire stranger things #hellfire club

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO NEFE COSMIA, KELLON BISHOP. 🌓

ꕥ  — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: Monet age: 24 pronouns: She/They ooc contact: thebankery on twt other characters in xc: Philomena Roxbury, Prince Papillon, Obanai Iguro

ꕥ  — IC INFORMATION;

name: (King) Kellon Bishop age: 125 (25 human years) pronouns: He/Him series: OC canon point: N/A app triggers: Death, Religion (kinda?) these are both really vague mentions

personality:

King Bishop is a real chill go-with-the flow kinda guy. That happens when you can see everyone’s past and future.

King Bishop is a man that loves fun and hates conflict. He tends to keep his friends close and his enemies far. His attitude isn’t easy going, per se, because he can get really passionate, but his lack of real conviction or urgency in most situations makes it seem like he isn’t taking things seriously. He can and does, but he usually can’t be bothered to show it. His kingdom was known for being relaxed but magical and he was the reason for that. His conversations tend to be dreamy and his demeanor is always relaxed.

But when he DOES lock in it’s obvious how he managed to keep his title for so long. He’s not the hardest worker but he’s good at cutting corners in skillful ways, meeting deadlines even if it’s down to the last second, and generally being a creative and balanced thinker. He enjoys achieving things, even if he’s a little lackadaisical in his approach.

When he has downtime he prefers to be around others either partying (and everything involved) or just chatting. He’s an extrovert and he won’t let anything stop him from being one. Though he tends to keep a tight circle, he’ll befriend almost anyone regardless of morality — what people do in their private time isn’t his fault. Or business.

His unique magic abilities didn’t just elevate him to royal status, it also blew up his ego. From a young age he’s been magically favored and endlessly needed. His confidence isn’t unwarranted but sometimes he forgets that he can’t ALWAYS be the center of attention.

Though rare, his bad moods tend to linger. He’s no stranger to holding a grudge and that’s his preferred method of conflict management. It’s less work to just hate someone from afar. And if they aren’t bothering him, why would he bother? He’ll just talk shit behind their back like a civilized person.

This isn’t something to worry about, though. He doesn’t have a lot of enemies. Why would he? He’s so chill.

something your muse struggles with: He makes a lot of one-sided inconsequential enemies over petty grievances. Can be self-centered. Petty.

your muse’s greatest strength: Creative, Book-Smart, Calm Under Pressure

history / background:

Kellon was born into a family of 5. He had a mom, a dad, two older brothers, and a younger sister. He would outlive all of them. Kellon wasn’t a normal baby.

Kellon’s planet was split into eight main regions, usually referred to as ‘worlds’ due to how different they were. There was little to no consistency between all of them despite all being part of one landmass. Magic was only found in one person, the queen, and objects, like magic crystals, enchanted forests, potions, dragons, and everything else that you could think of. But humans weren’t magic. That was unheard of.

 Unfortunately the queen died before she could birth an heir. People from every world began trying to rise up to be the new leader. This lawless powerplay lasted for a year and abruptly ended when seven babies were born. 

Kellon (and six other random babies) had unique abilities that were obvious from birth. Kellon would manipulate any kind of water he could get his grimy baby eyes on, make rain storms happen when he cried, and unceremoniously predict peoples’ futures with 100% accuracy. The queen was known for having similar powers. The other babies, one from every world, also had powerful magic similar to the late queen’s.

Kellon was raised to be someone important. He was born in what’s now called The Water Kingdom. His people built temples, shrines, and a castle, just for his family. His parents and siblings were put in charge of their world. Kellon was declared A Royal. The world stopped to cater to these new iterations of the queen.

He had a good life growing up. Friends, money, power, travel, and a strong connection with the six other babies, who were being raised in similar ways. While he was vaguely aware that his existence had brought peace to the kingdoms he didn’t really care. How could he? He was just a kid.

Only seven babies were born though. There was still a kingdom on the outskirts waiting for their magic. While the other worlds thrived, they were stagnant, waiting to become a part of the new world. Back to that later.

Kellon’s abilities seemed to be time-based but he never truly explained what they were. From a young age he knew that magic was more interesting when no one knew how it worked. The truth was that he could see the entirety of others’ lives in a series of snapshots and revert or advance them to this key point in their life. And while still an impressive power, he made it even more entertaining by framing his powers as ‘miracles’ or ‘oracle predictions’ or ‘time travel’. Not technically wrong, but a little showboaty. People began calling him just by his last name, Bishop, and he was happy to lean into a religious figure role.

Kellon was a well-loved king. They liked him so much, in fact, he never had any pressure to get an heir. Years and years and years passed by of relative peace between the worlds. As he got older, his family aged, and he seemed to stop. 

Kellon outlived his entire family. Time seemed to be moving differently to him. He never knew how to explain it, but he knew — he was immortal now.

At (technically) 125 years old Kellon was still happily running his world. He still had the other six magical royal friends, at least, and some of them even had descendants. Kellon was more than happy to just keep ruling and creating miracles with no heirs.

In fact, one of those heirs took an interest in a citizen from the still unnamed, unruled kingdom. Kellon didn’t notice or care. If a Royal married a random guy, what’s the worst that could happen…?

 powers / abilities: 

Save Point - His main ability. He can restore someone to any ‘save point’ in their life. The ‘save points’ are key points in a person’s life. Whether they’re aware that they are or not. He can see all of these and revert (or advance) them to any point.

This ability can only be used on an individual once a week (a change and change back to normal) and the save point change can only last for 24 hours. The person remembers everything that happened during it. He can see 10 years into their past and future. (Obviously with permission!!) Since this ability is so powerful I’ll lock the full power behind r6 😭At full power he can use it whenever with no limits.

General Water Manipulation - What it sounds like. He can’t control oceans or anything, but he can move up to like a bathtub of water.

Rain - He can make it rain. Not money. The radius of the rain is 10 ft.

 1-Up -  He can give someone a temporary extra life! If you die, all of your status effects and injuries will be cured, and your health will be completely restored. He can only do this every 5 hours, and doing it puts him out of commission for 30 minutes.

Inherent abilities: 

Kellon is not human. He’s considered A Royal in his world, and they’re magical beings with special physical properties. Magic might affect him differently than it would on a human, depending on what it is. 

He’s not exactly a mermaid. He’s like the distant cousin of one that hasn’t finished evolving yet.

- Can eat raw seafood with no problems. It’s actually 99% of his diet.

- Can see clearly underwater, doesn’t burn his eyes

-Can hold his breath underwater for a very long time (30 mins)

items / weapons: 

Staff - More for show than anything, but he’s attached to it. A simple silver staff with a round crystal on top.

Chess Board - It’s exactly what it sounds like, but it’s nostalgic for him.

starting ability:  Save Point

starting item: Staff

Extra:

6’, Gay, Can Dress

Very good swimmer!

discord id: original.miracle

#xc application #mun: monet #nefe cosmia

[iln2001contextualstudies]

Reading Report One

Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other. By Sherry Turkle.

Chapter 8, Always On.

“This is the experience of living full-time on the Net, newly free in some ways, newly yoked in others.” (Turkle, 2011, p. 152)

Sherry Turkle writes engagingly, exploring all the ways that we navigate our lives, relationships and social interactions while responding to and living in a world of full connectivity to technology and social media. While I personally found her writing slightly outdated, (not to mention a few questionable character sources I found myself chuckling over) I think the fact that it translates as dated only adds a level of validity to some of the musings and concerns she makes in this essay which I will get around to discussing.

Already in the title, Alone Together and Always On, you can guess Sherry Turkle’s concerns around technology and constant connectedness. I think she brings up some very valid points around using technology to explore identity, to expand our lives and also create “more” time in our lives. But there is also the darker side to the new frontier that she discusses: the addiction to being connected, the expectation of speed and, in the strangest part of the essay and the juiciest bits of our class discussions, she writes on how the world online can allow an alter reality, one of fantasy and fulfillment, hope and easy but sensationally meaningful connections. See Pete. (Turkle, 2011, p. 159)

As I read, I noted quite a few times that her statements didn’t quite sit with me well and I felt as if, by reading this essay, I could relate more clearly to my own grandmother’s fears about the world changing in these drastic ways. For instance, Turkle writes in her section Tethered And Marked Absent that “being alone can start to seem like a precondition for being together because it’s easier if you can focus, without interruption, on your screen… spaces are no longer a communal space, but a space of social collection: people come together but do not speak.” (Turkle, 2011, p.155) She then writes on, stating that growing up in Brooklyn was different, things were interactive and friendly and that even the “sidewalks had a special look.” (Turkle, 2011, p.155) This type of writing structure gives me pause, as nostalgia statements, mine or anyone else’s, will always have an unrealistic reality in them. I don’t personally believe things are as isolated or stark as her essay states, as, yes, the world is full of laptop, don’t-bother-me-please, coffee communal work spaces and quiet tube rides with every single person on their phones… (that is a bit unnerving to be fair) However, there are just as many people out meeting one another, apologizing for having to take a quick emergency call, making clear eye contact and enjoying meaningful face to face conversations.

One final thing I will note from this reading that I deeply related to was her section on Multitasking and the Alchemy of Time. (Turkle, 2011, p.162) She writes about how the constant connectedness and time consuming effort to keep up with tech, net life, social media presence, online realities, is in fact draining our daily lives and filling it with endless need to Be Connected. Alone. I felt her statement “moments of more may leave us with lives of less.” (Turkle, 2011, p.154) That, as the technologies of our lives, our social circles and especially our jobs require constant effort and energy from us, we actually turn towards the thing that is draining us for help: Speed. “As for Diane, she tries to keep up by communicating during what used to be ‘downtime’ — the time when she might have daydreamed during the cab ride or while waiting in line or walking to work. This may be time that we need (physiologically and emotionally) to maintain the energy to focus.” And I’ll add, as an illustrator: also, the Time To Create. (Turkle, 2011, p.167)

In conclusion, I think that this reading was very interesting and thought provoking. It felt as if I was analyzing the words of an experiment a few years after the experiment took place and the final results came in. Yet at the same time, that makes me consider, what ways do I think now, what things do I “not even notice” that will feel outdated in another ten years. And also, I appreciated how this article made me consider our interactions and relationships as illustrators, artists, observers in a world where observation and awareness is melting into thin air.

Source:

Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other (New York: Basic Books, 2011), pp. 151–170.

[theladyragnell]

Kind of odd ask? But you seem to know a LOT about DnD and I am having a struggle. I'm in a Curse of Strahd campaign atm and due to an interesting part of the setting (no spoilers in cases) have been imbued with the permanent character trait: "I can't get enough pleasure. I desire others to create beauty for me at all times." ...And well. I have ZERO clue how to role play this. I'm a paladin, oath of vengeance (that oath is due to the 2nd soul living inside my body) and yeah. I'm just at a loss. Thoughts?

Oh, interesting question! With caveats that I play a very specific kind of D&D that doesn't involve forced personality traits (yikes!) and have never played Strahd, here are a few things I might do to play this one:

For the creating beauty, does your campaign allow downtime? Do you have spending money? Someone who wants to be surrounded by beauty might become a patron of the arts, commissioning paintings, theatrical productions, pieces of music, so if you have moments where you aren't adventuring and enough money to do it, see about finding some artists to commission (or if you're broke, is there an artist in town who needs a muse?).

Use this as a party bonding activity! Does your party have a bard? Do any of your spellcasters know illusion magic? Your character's new best friend! Maybe this means you're always hanging around the bard asking for music, or in quiet moments of the adventure you request the wizard Minor Illusion you something pretty

Get creative with what kinds of loot you're looking out for--sure, maybe there's gold around, but have you considered taking one of the ancient ornate candlesticks because you know it would look just perfect in a home someday, or you might develop a fondness for ancient family portraits left around.

A sudden desire to be surrounded by pleasure and beauty might cause some conflict with the second soul searching for vengeance. If you're avoiding pain and seeking out good things, it might distract you from your original quest and require a resetting of expectations.

Other things to keep in mind: does your character (or the other soul they're carrying) know/understand that this trait is new and imposed on them? Do they mind it? Is it a mild horror situation where you feel like you don't know yourself anymore, or kind of a relief to have something distracting you from the vengeance? Those play in very different ways.

(Note: some of these could impact your party members, your DM, and the game as a whole, so if you're going to play it that your paladin is a lot more light-fingered and might not check for traps and curses on loot, you may want to discuss that with your GM so they can either mitigate effects or cause you some pain. Or if you're going to be befriending the wizard in a major way, you may want to chat to their player about it too. Big character shifts can really change the mood at a table, so if you're playing this anything but very subtly, probably have a conversation or two with them!)

#publishing this in case anybody else with more knowledge of strahd has experience in these matters #but really my number one piece of advice with d&d at all times is just to communicate with your table #answered asks #impetusofadream

[my-writings-and-musings]

Same anon thank you for answering my question! I was wondering if you could do headcanons for MTMTE Rung, Megatron, Rodimus, Minimus, and Swerve with an Artisic human reader that just sees the good and creative artist side of everything? From books to pictures to even their own bot? Like they can just look at their bot and go out on a whole rant on how beautiful their optics are from the color to their expression. if that’s too many characters you can take any one, I don’t mind! Thank you and have a good day ❤️

You're welcome! I'm always open for clarification, so feel free to ask questions about whatever you'd like if you're unsure on anything. I took a little liberty with this one, but I've got all the requested bots because darn it all these beautiful mechs deserve recognition!

Rung

·He discovers your artistic inclination thanks to years of experience reading personalities and emotions at a glance, but he wasn't prepared for the depth of your conviction in seeing the world through a creative lens, which he learned upon speaking to you about your process as an artist. This surprise grows as he sees you sketching around the ship, your exuberance for the inherent beauty in everything coming through in every conversation you share.

·When he praises some of your sketches on a quiet day in his office and is compelled to ask how you developed your style, he's fascinated by your explanation, and his spark is warmed by how beautifully you describe the world around you and credit it for inspiring you. He's visibly shocked when your list of current subjects and muses includes him specifically, and you can't help but chuckle at the usually calm bot looking so absolutely flustered. There's no way for him to hide any of that feeling when he requests a bit of clarification; there's hundreds of bots on board, what about him could possibly stand out?

·You're happy to elaborate on your process to a bot who so regularly underestimates his worth and lay out why he in particular piques your interest. The warmth and goodness of his being is such a rare and beautiful thing, you explain, but also so rarely appreciated that it drives you to try and capture that essence in a manner one can see. How could you not? Such compassion and empathy and forgiveness should be remembered! You've also seen that he's capable of accepting any genuine apology, and to have that level of mercy after so much war is beautiful, enough that you have to try and show it.

·To say he's touched is an understatement of unfathomable proportions. Removing his lenses to clear optics blurred with tears, he doesn't even know how to begin processing your praise of his character when you add that his physical self hardly fails to encourage you either. His glasses nearly slip from his hands when he hears you say that. You continue quite easily; the kindness in his optics and the sweetness of his smile, combined with his genuinely handsome profile, simply inspire you to start sketching.

·He's touched, but you have to understand, he is NOT accustomed to this level of praise. Between the near tears and the blushing he has to politely excuse himself to recover from this absolute tsunami of emotions, but being flustered and melted at once is enough to have him smiling through a little blush all day long. While he tries to take a little bit of your mindset into his everyday life going forward, he gets a bit dazed every time he sees a sketch of yours that includes his face, as that level of artistic devotion being dedicated to him is more than he'll ever be able to process. Not that he minds...

Megatron

·Being more familiar with the written word, he enjoys the arts but has little experience with those who create them, and time has not been on his side in regards to learning more. Thus, you're one of the first artistically inclined individuals he's been able to discuss the topic with, which he was motivated to do after catching a glimpse of your work. He could swear some of your sketches bear a resemblance to him, but he says nothing on the matter and is certain his optics are tricking him.

·Your talk of technique quickly surprises him by shifting to inspiration, which to you is the primary driving force of your work, as it influences how you go about conveying the subject matter. Eager to share what you mean, you explain that anything can have beauty worthy of capturing if you just take the time to look at it right. Even the most mundane or seemingly unappealing things can be remarkable if you know their story, and you want to convey that energy as wordlessly as possible.

·A little overwhelmed but quite impressed by your manner of reasoning, he rather jokingly asks if even beings like himself could ever inspire you, or perhaps another artist with your mindset. He's caught off gaurd like never before when you, quite enthusiastically, reply that he most certainly can and does! To keep his composure he recalls portraits of his likeness being commissioned to inspire his soldiers, but never believing these fell under the category of art so much as they did propaganda. They often depicted him quite... violently as well.

·Having never seen these pieces, you reply that your own experience is tied more to how you see him now, and you flip through your sketchbook to demonstrate. As close to your level as can be, he's speechless while you explain what you wanted to capture about him in each sketch, whether it's a quick study or a detailed project; and that's how safe he makes you feel. Hearing himself referred to as a protector cuts straight through his powerful armor.

·You depict him looking almost... gentle? Hearing you describe the his immense size as a source of comfort and his strength as a tool of keeping peace processes about as clearly to him as a foreign language, but he nods along and keeps the conversation going until his duties call him away. Though he says nothing of it, he volunteers himself for more of the physically demanding work around the ship. His body's purpose had always been decided for him, but you've reminded him he has the only true say in its use, and that everything really is a matter of perspective. Perhaps he'll take up sketching once this is all over.

Rodimus

·He's certainly always had an appreciation for visual appeal, even if his idea of beauty doesn't often overlap with what most would consider artistically valuable. This and his natural alertness makes him quick to notice you often sketch about the ship, frequently when he's present, but at first he leaves you alone to work in peace. Having a hobby on this crew is beyond valuable, and he doesn't want to distract you from a passion... That is, until he decides on one especially slow day to just ask you what you like to doodle about.

·You can tell he wants to be a little nosy, if only because he's naturally a curious bot about these things, but you're more than happy to share regardless. There's a lot due to the ample downtime on the quest, and he has to squint so he can properly scan the many sketches on the human sized paper. He happily recognizes friends, locales about the ship, even earth things he knows about... but he's not ready when he finds a picture of himself.

·While he remains outwardly playful, teasing you with how he'd pose if you only asked, he's internally flattered that you took the time to draw him. More specifically, he's touched by the way you drew him. The sketches and portraits portray him as a calm but amicable leader, standing tall and serving as a guide to those around him, a true "father to his men" kind of bot... it's everything he wants to be, but is quite certain he's not. He's barely able to keep up his smooth persona when he asks about your process.

·You explain that you find inspiration in everything, but he's been your chosen subject lately for a lot of reasons. It's no secret he's handsome, but you see something more when you look at him, and you did everything you could to show it here; there's a real leader in him. Maybe some bots don't see it under all the bluster and sarcasm, but you see how much he cares for every bot on his crew. He wants to be the best for all of them, and even if he struggles at times, that effort is beautiful to you.

·It takes everything in him to bite back some very embarrassing tears, and the crack in his voice doesn't help him hide the emotion, though he covers that up with unconvincing coughs and claims something got in his optic. From then on he seems to stand a little taller and find his assigned duties a little easier to bear, but you absolutely notice how he poses in what he believes to be heroic fashion whenever your sketchbook comes out. Inspired by his enthusiasm, you invite him to model more officially, and the crew is just happy to see him so enthusiastic.

Minimus

·Being as observant as he is, your consistent appraisal of your surroundings is not something he'd ever miss, but your frequent sketching in the most random places does leave him absolutely mystified. Every time he sees you there's artistic supplies on your person, but he can't find anything that appears to be worthy of putting to paper, so what could you be drawing? He respects your privacy too much, and feels too silly about his curiosity, to interpret and ask you for an explanation.

·Thus it's with some small eagerness that he finds one of your sketchbooks after it's been misplaced, and he sees the perfect opportunity to slip in a question. For the sake of handling something so tiny, he approaches without his armor, offering the lost item back with barely concealed pride at your delight to have it returned. In the moment of truth he nearly falters, but does indeed manage to ask what you draw around the ship. He leaves out the fact that he's observed you whenever you draw in his presence.

·The question has an answer only he seems to think isn't obvious; him! You spend time together frequently, and while everything is fair game for sketching, he's a very regular subject for you. Whether he's wearing the Magnus armor or not, you explain that the commanding aura he radiates is something you can't help but find beautiful. That word choice baffles him enough that he has to interrupt; beautiful? Commanding? Even without his armor?? You're delighted to assure him that you absolutely mean that.

·Hearing you describe the details of your reasoning, like the quiet dignity of his stance or the calm intelligence of his red optics, touches his spark in ways he wasn't expecting. He's calm and speaks softly as he keeps the conversation going, asking questions about your various works and listening attentively when you answer, processing your view of the universe as being packed with beauty in all the places people don't think to look.

·Any bot that sees him during the remainder of the day absolutely notices the change to his entire demeanor; namely that he's smiling a soft and barely perceptible smile. It's not long after he requests a few sketches from you to keep in his office, whether they're of him or not, and he has them framed in places of honor. He doesn't tell you, but you figure it out, that one particular drawing of him you gift for his sake is kept securely stored in a compartment by his spark.

Swerve

·Many bots may see him being a tad bit on the shallow side when it comes to the arts, but our beloved barkeep has his own unique appreciation for creativity and all the ways it can be visually expressed, and you recognize it not long after meeting him. As his bar is a frequent hangout for everyone, you find it to be a fantastic place to sit and sketch, as the variety of bots makes it quite easy to have your choice of subjects even if you have to sit on a table. Obviously Swerve notices and asks you what you're drawing when traffic slows one evening.

·You're happy to show him your work and he's always eager to hear what everyone is up to, so he starts asking questions about your art in general. How long have you been an artist? What's it like suddenly having a whole ship of aliens to sketch? Why draw here all the time? At that query you light up brilliantly, and he's delighted by your enthusiasm as you describe all the incredible sights the bar has to offer.

·You list some of your favorite things to draw, like the many friend groups on the ship that gather here, the brilliant colors of the glowing vats of enjex, and him smiling and rushing with orders through it all. That last one gets a flash of surprise from behind his visor, which is quickly overtaken by exuberant delight; you've been drawing him?! He babbles out a surge of confusing statements that you're eventually able to interpret as a request to see, just one he's too bashful to say directly.

·Happily obliging, you're touched by how he smiles at every little sketch, and feel compelled to explain that he's a big part of why you love drawing here. You try to see beauty in everything, even what often gets overlooked, and there's so very much of that here. The bar is one of those places that everyone knows is special, but you know he's the reason they love it like they do, and that his enthusiasm and hard work hold it all together. You find that inspiring, and actually quite beautiful. It doesn't hurt that his brilliant smile is always a treat to sketch.

·Trying to play it cool and totally failing, he doesn't quite hide that he's near to tears when he asks if you'd like to hang some of your work up in the bar, or maybe have a little corner for yourself to draw from. He just doesn't want you getting squished while you sketch, is all! And having a better vantage point is ideal for someone so small! When you accept, he gives you your own human sized accommodations not too far from the heart of the bar, and every so often when you sketch he'll glance up at you absolutely beaming.

#transformers #more than meets the eye #mtmte #idw #lost light #maccadam #tf #rung #megatron #minimus ambus #rodimus #swerve #self insert #human reader #requests #anon #my writing #transformers headcanon #my asks

[lokiondisneyplus]

“They really did use that competition as a springboard in the media to get their message out. Back then, there wasn’t the internet, there was no Instagram, so how do you get your message out? The best way was sort of hijack a media spectacle like that. It was very, very savvy of them,” explained Gugu Mbatha-Raw.

Based on real events, Misbehaviour is a British comedy-drama film about members of the Women’s Liberation Movement disrupting the 1970 Miss World beauty competition in London.

“I didn’t grow up watching Miss World, so the first time I’d actually seen the competition was watching the archived footage of this pageant in 1970. That was really shocking to me. Just the misogynistic language of both hosts and how creepily the women were objectified and compared to cattle was bad,” she exclaimed. “It’s a very different world to the one we’re in now in my respects, although there is still room for improvement. What I love about the film is that it shows the different perspectives on the pageants, even generationally with Keira Knightley’s character’s daughter in the movie emulating it while she is taking a stand against it.”

Mbatha-Raw plays Jennifer Hosten, Miss Grenada, the first black woman to be crowned Miss World.

“Jennifer is in her 70s now. She’s very wise and has had a lot of time to think all of this over. Jennifer didn’t take the actual competition too seriously, but for the women taking part, it was a scary moment when the flour bombs hit the stage,” she explained. “They always understood that the women were not against the other women; they were against the patriarchy; they were against the system; it certainly wasn’t personal towards the women themselves. I think it was more about trying to dismantle and challenge the concept of the competition and how it portrayed women in a certain light.”

“One of my favorite scenes in Misbehaviour is where Jennifer and Keira Knightley’s character cross paths in the lady’s powder room. These are two women fighting different fights from different points of view. It depends on where you are starting from. It doesn’t make it any less of a progression in some respects for Jennifer to win that competition. It is a tightrope.”

Misbehaviour receives a VOD release in the US on Friday, September 25, 2020. The film landed in UK theaters months earlier, in March, just ahead of a national shut down due to the pandemic. That had a significant impact on the inspirational tale’s box office, grossing only $426,765 - a figure that doesn’t fairly reflect the film's quality.

“It was unfortunate timing for the film, but we all realize that there were greater issues at hand in the world,” she mused. “What is nice about the film is it still having a life on VOD, and it’s now here in the US. It does have a wonderful escapist element to it as well as the historical element. There is so much uncertainty and volatility happening on the planet right now on so many levels. Misbehaviour is a period piece, and although it deals with issues of feminism and progress for women of color in that world, it has been done with a light touch.”

“Hopefully, it’s something that people can watch at home and reflect or watch it with their father or their daughter and have certain conversations while still being an escapist and fun watch.”

Life is starting to return to somewhere near normal for Mbatha-Raw, who is now back at work filming the upcoming Marvel TV series, Loki, for Disney+ in Atlanta, Georgia.

“I was in the middle of filming when the pandemic happened, so I had a real break, I’ve been painting and reading. Like so many others, I was at home for a long time,” she said. “Not to make light of the suffering going on, but in some ways, it has been an opportunity for me to get a fresh perspective on things. It is downtime that perhaps I might not have had, and now I’m thankful to be back to work. It’s been a journey for everyone, but it’s all for a greater reason and the greater good.”

Did Mbatha-Raw use the downtime to rebinge the multibillion-dollar Marvel movie back catalog?

She laughed, “I’d already watched a lot of them. I got Disney+ when I got the job, so I binged a lot of it then.”

“I’m obviously sworn to secrecy about everything to do with Loki, but it feels great to be back. Everyone is trying to do it as safely as possible under the circumstances, and it feels good. I’m excited. It’s a lot of fun, and I can’t wait to see it.”

Misbehaviour arrives on VOD on Friday, September 25, 2020.

#Gugu Mbatha-Raw #Misbehaviour #Loki #Disney+

[mythvoiced]

⭐️ Corey and Domenic pLS

@theimpalpable | — for each “⭐️” i get, i’ll write a headcanon about our muses.

---

IT’S THEM! IT’S THE DUO that makes me feel very warm in my chest because of this warm familial bond that seems to be building between them? Which is one of those things that I say always by stating its the vibes I get because I would never want you to feel in any way forced to accept these things, but I would be lying if I said I don’t tear up sometimes thinking about how exciting in a gentle way these two interacting is.

Onto a headcanon for them and I know these headcanons aren’t very big or deep, but my brain just keeps going for stuff that is mostly there for character moments? For the relationship, you know? Do you know scenes in a movie or a show or a written story, where the characters do something, say something, share a moment that serves the sole purpose of making them feel more alive? Like, do I know Ned Leeds being excited about being ‘the guy in the chair’ while he spins from one desktop to the next? Not for the plot, I don’t, but for the character I do, I love it, helps me get to know him.

So this headcanon is a little like the ones involving Kaeden in the sense that, it’s just... for the soft warm stuff: I just headcanon Corey and Domenic spending a lot of ‘downtime’ together. They get together to read novels or non-fiction, sit down in a beautiful bookstore coffee shop combination, where they can sit cosily in a corner with steaming cups of their favourite warm drinks on the table between them, and every now and then, they would share interesting passages they stumbled upon, or use the most recent chapter they read as conversation topic while they moved from the shop to whatever museum is holding a particularly intriguing exhibition on that day. It’s not much, but the idea that these two would feel comfortable and confident enough with each other to constantly be on the lookout for things to share with the other, new discoveries, and intellectual adventures, just... makes me feel good inside.

It’s such good energy.

#theimpalpable #the prodigy;corey #I would also likke to say that Domenic is one of the main reasons I usually #want to write Corey because getting to write him against Domenic just? #it's exactly what I've wanted and still want for Corey this energy #so I would really to thank you for throwing Domenic at Corey ;W; #thank you so much for Domenic ;W; AND IF YOU FEEL #YOU'D LIKE A DIFFERENT KIND OF HC? #do lmk ;WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW; #a: #I'M ALSO DEF GONNA COME BACK AND MAKE UP TAGS >:3 #;queue

[godfrey-industries]

"In another universe, I happened upon a doctor that refused to deliver a mutant couple's baby because of the possibility that a mutant mother giving birth may accidentally use their powers and cause harm to everyone around them."

"While his fear is justified. His use of the word You People told me his reasoning is less out of fear and more out of prejudice. Any doctor that refuses to do their job because of bigoted hatred isn't worthy to be a doctor."

#downtime musings (in character conversations) #(Random reference to current popular tv show but hey it gave me muse)

[katcadecascade]

New Qrow fic WIP

It’s a bit of a character study but mostly RWBY/JNOR/more doing shenanigans.

The only problem, I can’t think of a name for this fic.

Anyway here, Chapter One/Round One: Throwing Down the Gauntlet

Blake will admit, she’s a sucker for romance.

How could she not be?

In a world where morbid emotions attract monsters, where injustice breeds from hatred of culture and birth traits, something as simple and layered as love is beautiful and strong and can power people through their darkest moments but also bring them to their knees.

She should say she just learned this all from her books but honestly in the last year or so, Blake has certainly lived through some crazy shit.

But let’s not get into that right now.

Sure her tale begins with her people’s suffering, her parent’s pacifism, a poor boy’s spite, and her own frightful shadows. She could go write to great lengths on how the journey gained her treasured friends, bonds forged through fire, and how it lead them to the coldest place of the north.

That’s where this game begins.

Yes a game indeed or maybe a war by the sharpness in the Valkyrie’s eyes or the telltale song notes of glyphs charging up.

It began with a series of events that piqued the interest of the eight (and later on more) charges under the wings of Qrow Branwen.

The first thing they noticed took place on their very first night in Atlas, where one General James Ironwood hugged the scythe master. The two thought they were alone but the nieces back tracked to get their uncle.

While they made the wise decision to leave the men alone, the girls immediately blurted their findings to the rest of their friends.

Their reactions were of surprise and cooing but it only trigger their radars to look out for more of these moments. None of them could recall ever seeing Qrow be so vulnerable with anyone else. Granted they didn’t spend the most time with him but even Yang and Ruby were caught off guard.

This was their uncle so ultimately this was under Yang’s and Ruby’s discretion or wonderment.

That didn’t stop the rest of them from being curious to see what else will happen between Qrow and Ironwood.

Small and subtle were the ways of the General, lingering eyes or the quietly inviting the huntsman into his office. Ruby’s sniper skills were used for observations like these. Her skills in stealth could’ve been better to muffle her cooing.

Things were going steady, slowly seeing the man underneath the steel. Maybe then the kids could decide to trust him with the truth from the Lamp. Not that Qrow’s compromised in anyway, but seeing this spark between them certainly helps the kids trust the general a little bit more.

James Ironwood appeared to be able to offer up his heart to Qrow.

So imagine their surprise when Clover Ebi entered the game.

There’s that word again: game.

It’s a little immature to describe it as so but Blake couldn’t think of any other word.

Blake and the others keep noticing certain events focused on Qrow, usually engaged by one man or the other.

Small side glances, a brushing of hands, coffee treats and many more that can be listed as intimate or thoughtful or purposeful. Although, Clover’s flirting are rather forward. Most importantly, Qrow’s happiness is the growing outcome.

And pray tell what game is this? Where two men woo a common thread that is slowly becoming enamored by these actions?

A courting game.

Hands slam down on the kitchen table. “Everyone, place your bets!”

“We are so not betting on this!” Weiss crossed her arms, perfectly poised and unmoved.

“Come on,” Nora whined, “There’s nothing else to do here.”

“Aside from doing our jobs and brainstorming how to save the world?”

“All I’m saying is that we need a break from all the seriousness and focus on Team Dad.”

On the couches, only Blake noticed the resident nieces share a glance. They don’t argue against their uncle’s title, instead they quirk their lips in a knowing look.

(Blake later understands their silent exchanges when a game changer occurs)

“Nora’s right,” Jaune agreed, “and I usually never want to say that.”

“Hey!”

“You’re the one who broke the coffee machine by trying to fix it,” Oscar pointed out. Behind him said device has a despairing groan.

Ruby follows up, “And then got the rest of us blaming each other for it.”

“Enough, enough,” the redhead shouted, “We’re getting off track!”

“We are not conspiring on Qrow’s love life!” Weiss proclaimed.

“She’s right,” Ren said with the composure of a sage, highlighted as he sipped his tea, “There’s no need to.”

Yang raised an eyebrow, both curious and surprised, “What do you mean?”

Everyone waited for their resident ninja to finish another long drink, for dramatic effect Blake must note.

Then simply enough, he answers, “Qrow would fall for the General.”

That was clearly not the answer Nora wanted.

She’s a sputtering mess while next to her, Weiss holds her head high.

“Thank you, someone else sees my point,” the ex-heiress nods.

Sharpness in Jaune’s voice catches her off guard, “Your point? You think Ironwood’s gonna get with Qrow?”

“Is it not obvious?”

Nora butts in, a strange tension in her shoulders, “Sure yeah but look at Clover!”

Her team leader listed off, “They’re mission partners but also hanging around each off in their downtime.”

“Yes,” Nora nods enthusiastically, “Just like Jaune with Marrow.”

“H-hey wait-“

“You haven’t seen Qrow with James alone though.”

Again, everyone is quiet as they stare down their resident cute wizard boy.

Oscar squirms a little under the attention, backtracking, “Oh, um, I only mean um I would see them right before James tutors me? And Qrow would sometimes be there too and,” he sighs heavily, “honestly it’s like my aunt’s romance novels.”

Blake immediately guesses the classic tropes of longing, quiet vulnerability, trust and intimacy. She doesn’t voice her thoughts. No need since Weiss happily regales her own findings.

“Winter says that she’s never seen Ironwood so relaxed before. Sure she’s a little teed that it was Qrow’s doing but the results are still good.”

“But what about Qrow’s ‘results’ when he’s with Clover,” Nora argued.

Ruby does her little head shake, musing over her thoughts, “He is a lot calmer or relaxed.”

Nora cackles at the fuming Weiss, affronted at her girlfriend not on her side.

That’s rectified as Ruby taps her chin, scholarly and not noticing Weiss’ heat, “Although he is a lot more teasing around Ironwood.”

“See!” Weiss grins as if this is victory. Her current rival is unbothered.

“He’s the same with Clover,” Nora counters and honestly Weiss can’t possibly argue with that.

Too many times have the kids witness Qrow becoming a bumbling, blushing mess when Clover compliments him. There’s so much bi/gay tension there to even think of denying.

“Qrow must be taking his time then,” Blake voiced. “With both Ironwood and Clover, maybe he’s a bit overwhelmed.”

Next to her, Yang sighs, “Knowing him, he might not realize what’s going on unless someone tells him.”

“Or he’s aware of all of this happening and dismisses it as something that can’t actually happen to him,” Jaune painfully accurately describes as what is probably going on.

This type of denial of happiness, this consuming pit of numbness and pain, people who loved and lost and felt guilty for even loving and losing need to be told they’re deserving of love.

Maybe Jaune’s speaking for himself or maybe Blake’s interpreting for her own experiences.

But one shared glance with the knight confirms her thoughts. Qrow must have talked to him too about this type of grief.

The blame and the guilt and the responsibility of losing someone, be it person of goodness or of spite, it’s a heavy feeling that Blake, Jaune, Qrow and possible the others too have carry.

So while the huntsman tries to assure the two kids of their grievances, there hasn’t been an opportune time to ask how he’s coping. As the young adults under his care, they all worry about him, especially his nieces. At first he was the mysteriously cool uncle as proclaimed by Ruby and later on the secretive and paranoid uncle explained by Yang but in their shared time together, each kid gotten to know the crow by their own definitions.

It’s like that little thing Blake does, associate a word with a person.

She told Sun about her girls, Earnest, Defiance, and Strength.

Then there’s team JNPR, Tenacity for Jaune, Zestful for Nora, Ascendancy for Pyrrha and Acuity for Ren. It took some time but eventually Oscar became Perseverance.

As for Qrow, well, she jokingly thought Mother Hen but now she’s satisfied to call him Memory.

It’s mostly because of all the Muninn parallels but there is just so much history behind Qrow Branwen. Carried in the creak in his bones, dips in his scars, the grey of his feathery hair, the surprise in his laughs, like he’s relearning how it is to walk with ghosts and angels.

So yeah, Blake sometimes worries about him and then she and Weiss worry about Ruby and Yang getting worried too.

But maybe there’s no need to.

From the soft gazes he sets on James and Clover, maybe they’re the ones making sure their Team Dad/Uncle is doing okay.

Now if only Qrow’s love life can move to the next stage.

Their conversation during breakfast was more than enough as food for thought, analyzing everything they know of Qrow Branwen and how he interacts with two men in particular.

Early mission meetings are obviously designated Clover Flirting Time as they get to their seats.

“I wouldn’t mind having another match with you,” Clover said casually as if it didn’t take weeks of near begging for a one on one fight.

“Really? You enjoy falling on your ass that much, lucky charm?”

“Sure do,” Clover slides close, letting his hip press against Qrow’s. “But I like seeing you down on the mats just as much.”

That flirt was meant to be whispered, low and teasing and it definitely sends a blush down Qrow’s neck. It’s a real shame that Blake has an extra set of ears to hear this.

Then from the sight of Marrow almost choking on his coffee, he probably heard it too.

The dog faunus and the cat faunus exchange silent misery.

“Ooh, another match?” Nora, being her glorious self, pops right at Qrow’s side and the two men nearly jump. “Hah, that’s a bit boring by now.”

Clover raises a brow, slightly wary and challenged, “Boring?”

Nora nods her head as Ren-like as possible, “Yep, I mean, training doesn’t have to be combat does it?”

Qrow blinks at her, and so does her teammates because hey, this is Nora complaining about combat training. “Nora, you got something else in mind?”

This encouragement, openness and trust, Blake wouldn’t have noticed it before but Qrow has been putting a lot more faith in them since Argus. It’s really nice to have an adult take them seriously. Then again this is Qrow. He encouraged Yang and Jaune to start a prank war.

Their resident lightning in a bottle had a million volt grin, “Parkour and freerunning! We all saw the Ops jumping around in the mines and that time Qrow and Winter destroyed the campus.”

“Miss Valkyrie,” hissed the ice queen, “I advise you to refrain from telling that anecdote.”

“What, feeling sore since you lost?” Qrow grinned.

“I did not lose, Qrow,” she glared, “it was clearly a stalemate.”

“Wow, now I’m really curious,” Clover said.

“I’ll tell you all about it then,” Qrow winked, “like how I clearly would’ve won.”

Next to Nora, Jaune added in, “There was a recording of it going around campus, like from the moment Qrow bushed back his bangs to the end where the General stopped the fight.”

To Blake, it’s a little odd to see Jaune gush about this since majority of them choose to ignore the usually mushiness of Clover Flirting Time. But then she notice the way Jaune subtly elbowed his teammate.

“Brush your bangs?” Clover’s focus on that little detail had him reach over to do said action, “Huh, you don’t look that intimidating like this.”

Like this, as they all observe, is Qrow blushing madly at the close contact and gentle action, the way Clover’s fingers glided through his dark hair like water.

Oblivious to the two men, everyone else in the room saw Jaune and Nora fist bump each other. They don’t even hide their smugness. No they toss it over at Weiss and Ren.

Ren is slightly alarmed.

Their resident ice princess on the other hand is silently fuming.

Like Blake mentioned before, this is a game.

It may be petty, invasive, and a tad immoral.

And yet it has begun.

-

So yeah, I need fic title suggestions and ideas

pls

#rwby fic #blake belladonna #qrow branwen #fair game #ironqrow #my fic

[stcviewren]

[ STEPHANIE “STEVIE” WREN BLEU. 23. NONBINARY. SHE/THEY ] is here! They’ve lived in Silver Lake for [ 1 YEAR ] and are originally from [ SAN FRANCISCO ]. They are a [ BASS PLAYER ] and in their downtime love [ THRIFT SHOPPING ] and [ MAKING PLAYLISTS ]. They look a lot like [ DIANA SILVERS ] and live [ IN OASIS APTS ]. 

hello ! i’m sam or if ya feeling crazy sammy works too. i’m 23, i reside in the currently cloudy but usually sunny southern california (so, pst timezone!), and i’m being the worst employee ever by joining rps instead of working from home !! quick get to know the mun: i’m a cap sun, i eat too much pasta, i like to listen to 50s r&b, and i’ve worn the same pair if sweatpants for the past week and a half. anyway, pls see below for more about stevie!!

Full Name: Stephanie Wren Bleu

Nickname: Stevie only, pls. Their mom calls them Steffie.

DOB: December 1, 1996

Zodiac: Sagittarius Sun, Aquarius Moon, Libra Rising

Religion: Jewish

Gender: Nonbinary, demi girl. She/They. 

Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Homoromantic/Homosexual

Occupation: Bassist 

Alignment: True Neutral 

Personality Type: INFP-A The Mediator 

Hogwarts House: Slytherpuff (but more Hufflepuff)

Five positive traits: idealistic, open minded, generous, gracious, diplomatic

Five negative traits: impractical, impatient, takes things too personally, indecisive, will hold a grudge for 15 years

Character Parallels: Amy (Booksmart), Stevie Budd (Schitt’s Creek), Donna Pinciotti (That 70′s Show), Phoebe Buffay (Friends)

background

Originally from a small suburban town on the outskirts of San Francisco (she’ll tell you she’s just from San Francisco)

She has a little brother who is 4 years younger and who she thinks is a complete twerp but she loves him anyway I guess

Her parents were fairly lenient growing up. If they showed interest in anything, their parents would encourage them to pursue it, but they never pushed too hard. No ideas were put to shame in the Bleu household. You’re 13 and want to splatter paint your room because you saw it on Tumblr? Sure, creative expression. In the same vein, they weren’t punished for not excelling. They expected their kids to try their best, but never expected them to be the best. So when Stevie got a C in Algebra in the 10th grade, they kind of just said — at least you tried your hardest!

Started playing clarinet in the 4th grade and yes she was in marching band in high school and no we do not talk about this time

Also she went to a private Catholic school. This had less to do with religion (she was raised Jewish, actually) and more to do with the education that the school offered

She picked up playing bass when she was 14 which is the instrument she ultimately ended up sticking with

Went to NYU for college, lived there for 4 years, became the embodiment of a Williamsburg hipster 

Moved back west after graduation, so she’s been living in Silverlake for just under a year

She’s the bassist in a small indie band called Free Prophets. They sound like Allah-Las and they have virtually no following lmao. They mostly just play bar gigs, Sofar Sounds shows in people’s living rooms, and Concerts in the Park during the summer days. That being said, Stevie isn’t really chasing fame in the slightest. She kinda just likes grooving and jam sessions, she’s not really interested in playing stadiums and all that BS anyway

Obviously that is not enough to make a living so she also works at funkytown thrift store during the day, and teaches clarinet/bass/guitar/piano to kids. 

details & tidbits

Stevie never had a questioning phase they pretty much always knew they were into girls. And being from a family that was so communicative and open, she never really felt the need to hide anything. She came out as gay in 10th grade whens he was 15

Always has been unapologetically herself. Not about to change for anyone

Cool girl vibes...idk how else to explain it 

Pretty tall standing at 5′11′’

Wears a lot of denim and flannels, converse, clips in her hair. Loves a good pair of overalls 

Drinks a lot of craft beer. Take her on a date to a brewery you’ll have her heart! 

Cat mommy! Has bengal cat named Tofu (no reason), a sphynx named Dragibu (her favorite French candy as a kid), and a burmese named Pierogi (her favorite food to get at her favorite diner in NYC). They are her babies. 

Also a plant mom but her cats always eat her plants and it’s a vicious cycle. But her apartment is in fact covered in plants anyway

Big Stoner Energy

Obsessed with horror movies and true crime

wanted connections

roommate(s)? i can see stevie having 1-2 roommates at the oasis apts so if anyone has a spare room... :) (she’s been in silverlake for about a year now)

band / jam sesh pals! stevie is in a band called Free Prophets, she’s the bass player, they’re not famous at all (probably have less than 1,000 followers on insta). They sound like Allah-Les.if this works for your muse...let’s make a band! if not, jam session buddies would be awesome, because Stevie just likes to groove 

tinder hook ups ?? i meeeeean. yeah. self explanatory. *billy eichner vc* let’s go lesbians

nyu friends / nyc friends: if anyone’s muse went to nyu during 2015-2019 let’s talk college pals! or anyone that lived in nyc during those years where it makes sense that they might’ve known each other...let’s run with it 

san francisco friends: stevie grew up in san francisco and lived there till she was 18, so if it makes sense for them to know each other from the bay area LES DO IT

ghost hunting friends: listen there are a lot of haunted landmarks in la and it’s stevie’s mission to visit all of them. gimme some pals who are as obsessed with horror flicks so they can bond over it 

and as always i am very much up for chem !! but if any of these plots work, pls lmk! i’m available via im here or on discord @ capricornmom #1278 :)

#slintro #i maybe got carried away w this but i'm so excited to be here !! #have i had this prepared since saturday #maybe so..maybe so #♡ ˖ ° 𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓮 𝔀𝓻𝓮𝓷 𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓾 ⟫ ꜰɪʟᴇᴅ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ — intro

[chaosworthyarchive]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; mun & muse - meme.

TAGGED BY: @atimelesslullaby​ TAGGING: you~!

FILL OUT & REPOST ♥

MY MUSE IS:   CANON / OC / AU / CANON-DIVERGENT  / FANDOMLESS

Is your character popular in the fandom?  YES / NO

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES  / NO / IDK

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK

Are they underrated?  YES / NO

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO / MAYBE

Were they relevant for the main character?  YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG

Are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO / MAYBE

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL

HOW STRICTLY DO YOU FOLLOW CANON?

Not very anymore. I draw a lot of inspiration from the classic games and general plot of StC but at this point my muse is just on his own track and I’m living for it. 

SELL YOUR MUSE! AKA TRY TO LIST EVERYTHING, WHICH MAKES YOUR MUSE INTERESTING IN YOUR OPINION TO MAKE THEM SPICY FOR YOUR MUTUALS.  

He’s a sweetheart. He’s one of those people who’s been to hell and back but still has a positive outlook on life, who loves the little things and tries to make life better for everyone. He’s super chill around most people but very passionate around his friends and family. The things he loves, he loves with all his heart. He’s not perfect but his flaws have definitely shaped him into who he is now, and the result is a pretty good person. 

NOW THE OPPOSITE, LIST EVERYTHING WHY YOUR MUSE COULD NOT BE SO INTERESTING (EVEN IF YOU MAY NOT AGREE, WHAT DOES THE FANDOM PERHAPS THINK?).  

He honestly might be a little too chill at times. He’s very tolerant so trying to get a rise out of him or upset him is very hard and that can sometimes be offputting, I know. That and I know people like to ship a lot here but he is not a person to just fall head over heels and snap into love, it takes a lot of time and sometimes people aren’t willing to put in the effort. That and the fact he’s based on a comic series I don’t think a lot of people like/have read.

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO RP YOUR MUSE?  

A fanfic, sort of. That’s where his base story came from. I started here doing a blog for a Bunnie, then moved to Arrow because I love Sonic as a character and wanted to give him a go. There’s been a lot of failed muses on my part, more than I’ll admit, but Arrow’s always stuck around for some reason and was always pretty well-received and I think that’s why he’s still around to this day.

WHAT KEEPS YOUR INSPIRATION GOING?

My partners, no doubt about that. Without them I wouldn’t be here. That and good music. It always gets the thoughts flowing. 

SOME MORE PERSONAL QUESTIONS FOR THE MUN.

give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO

Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES/ NO

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day?  YES / NO

Are you confident in your portrayal?   YES  / NO

Are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO  

Are you a sensitive person?  YES  / NO

DO YOU ACCEPT CRITICISM WELL ABOUT YOUR PORTRAYAL?  

I definitely would if people gave me any? I want it, like really bad, but I’ve never really gotten honest criticism before. So if you’re reading this and have some please shoot it my way because I’m curious and I can promise you won’t hurt my feelings. 

DO YOU LIKE QUESTIONS, WHICH HELP YOU EXPLORE YOUR CHARACTER?  

Always. That’s why it was so fun here years ago. A lot of the headcanons I have for my muse now came from conversations with old partners and questions that made me think outside the box, they're just so much fun.

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES TO A HEADCANON OF YOURS, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY?  

I guess? I like hashing out details like that but I’m also a person who’s been here for way too long and at this point I don’t think I’m going to have any headcanons that don’t have some logical roots, if that makes sense? In the end, headcanons are just a person’s ideas so disagreements are natural. 

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES WITH YOUR PORTRAYAL, HOW WOULD YOU TAKE IT?  

I wouldn’t care, honestly. I’m sure a lot of people don’t like my portrayal but I’m having a blast with it and that’s what I’m here for. Don’t get me wrong, if I’m doing something that’s super offensive or inaccurate I’d want them to tell me, but if it’s just to nit-pick I won’t give it a second thought.

IF SOMEONE REALLY HATES YOUR CHARACTER, HOW DO YOU TAKE IT?  

Again, I wouldn’t care. I’m not trying to please the masses here, just have fun and be a little creative in my downtime. 

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PEOPLE POINTING OUT YOUR GRAMMATICAL ERRORS?  

Omg yes. I can’t tell you how many times I go and re-read things and see all these little mistakes and die a little inside. Also I question a lot of words I use and I’m pretty sure I don’t spell some right in certain contexts so if you read this and see something, please tell me. I can’t learn otherwise. 

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EASY GOING AS A MUN?  

I do, but I will say that I’m also pretty blunt which some people can’t handle. If you ask me something I’ll tell you exactly what I think of it so I think that makes me a little intimidating but I never mean to be. Overall, I love talking to people and I’ll never ignore an ask or IM here or on Discord. I might be late getting to it because of work and other things, but I will get to it before too long. 

I will say that I’ve changed how I interact with people these days. I don’t follow as liberally as I used to and I really only come on here to answer drafts anymore, with a meme or something every once in a while to have a little fun. The people I do follow are a certain type now and even then I don’t really check my dash so I’ve never up to date on things and can’t really talk about what might be going on in that respect but I’m always willing to lend an ear if someone needs it. 

And I implore you guys to talk to me if you ever have a question or something because I’m always happy to clear something up or help with a problem. 

#give a little time to me | queue #you know what i'm like | tagged memes #out of touch | ooc

[lilhemmo]

soulmates are people too

pairing: sweet pea x reader request: soulmate!au + blind date!fic word count: 4,076 rated: T+

send me two au’s from THIS list + a ship/character 

The smell of alcohol, sweat, and money floats through the air and you scrunch your nose at the scent. You swallow back another shot, your throat numb at the amount of alcohol floating through your veins. Your best friend left you a couple of songs ago to dance with another hot blonde, so you’re left to your own devices at the bar.

“Another, please?” You toss two fingers in the air and push your shot glass back towards the bartender. She chuckles, bringing over the bottle of whiskey and filling your glass three fingers high.

“Break up? Or death?” she asks you, leaning against the counter.

You sip until half of your shot is gone, “Break up. Cheater.”

“Ooh,” she purses her lips and shakes her head. “The worst.”

“No kidding.”

“You don’t look familiar – you from the Northside?”

You nod your head and contemplate if she’ll tell you to leave or let you stay. You know that even now, years after Jughead became Serpent King and Betty his Queen, there is still a direct line between North and South.

“I’m Toni, by the way,” she reaches out her small hand with a grin. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You shake her hand and go back to the rest of your drink. Your friend comes tumbling back over to the bar to order another martini between giggles. She smiles, “Listen, Bethany is the coolest girl I’ve ever met-”

“Hillary, that’s what you said about Ashley and about-”

“Shhh,” she slurs, another giggle bursting from her lips. She takes the drink from the bartender and leaves a cash tip in return. “I’m not done dancing yet!”

You turn your eyes back to Toni and finally place where she looks familiar from, “You’re Cheryl’s wife, right?”

She nods in response, a light blush tinting her dark-skinned cheeks. Her pink hair makes her look young, but you know better. She and Cheryl were two grades ahead of you in school, you distinctly remember the day that Cheryl “Bombshell” Blossom declared the Southside were nothing but a bunch of thugs and it makes you laugh.

“Seems like there’s a lot of Northside-Southside pairings now,” you muse, twirling around the remaining liquor in your glass. “You and Cheryl, Kevin and Joaquin, Jughead and Betty…”

“Some people don’t care one way or the other.” Toni shrugs, picking up a few glasses to wipe down while the two of you talk. She looks up at you with kind eyes, “Soulmate bonds surely don’t care around here, either. Your ex from the Southside? I can totally get Pea and Fangs to kick his ass.”

“No, no,” you shake your head and laugh. “No, he’s actually from Greendale. And definitely not my soulmate. Never felt the corresponding pain you supposedly feel with your soulmate. Thank God I won’t have to make those trips to Greendale anymore. Not worth the gas money, hones-”

“Topaz, did I hear you say my name?”

Your head turns and you’re met with the tall figure of who you assume to be either Pea or Fangs. You’re sure it’s Fangs, he’s quite intimidating. He’s got dark hair and eyes to match, a brooding sort of atmosphere around him, sitting on his shoulders and weighing the surrounding area. His arms are crossed over his broad chest which is clad in a couple of layers consisting of a t-shirt, flannel, and topped with a Serpent jacket. His tattoo is easy to spot – clear as day on his neck.

“Sweet Pea,” Toni rolls her eyes, “I was going to have you kick this guy’s ass, but apparently he’s not worth the gas money.”

“I have been looking for a reason to bust up my knuckles lately,” Sweet Pea steps forward to sit at the bar next to you. He looks at you, a devilish glint in his eyes, “I don’t mind driving to Greendale to whoop a guy’s ass, honestly.”

Sweet Pea slams his palm on the bar table and you find a swelling amount of pain splintering at your fingers and bleeding down to your wrist. You hold your hand to your chest but stretch out your fingers after the pain subsides.

You lick your lips as a bubble of anxiety rises out of your stomach to lodge into your throat. When you speak, your voice is thick, “Uh, no, really. He, uh, he would get a big head if I sent a gang out to beat him to a pulp. He’d probably brag about it the next day.”

“Wow, guy really does sound like an ass.” Sweet Pea picks up the beer Toni placed in front of him. He gnaws on his lower lip before taking a swig of the drink. “You look new. You don’t come here much, do you?”

“No, I’m just here because my friend wanted to get wasted and dance with hot girls.” You laugh at the statement as soon as it parts from your lips. You down the rest of your drink and lock eyes with Toni to silently ask for a refill. “And here I am, cliché and sitting at a bar, trying to get over a guy who didn’t care enough about me to just break it off instead of dicking around with a bunch of other girls.”

Sweet Pea shakes his head and it’s nice to have someone of the male species on your side even if you hardly know them. He tilts his eyes upward and it looks like he wants to ask you a question, but his lips stay closed unless they curl around the rim of his beer bottle.

“Well,” you toss back your shot and then suck in a breath between your teeth before standing. “I think I’ve had just about enough alcohol to fall into the brink of self-depreciation, so I better get on out of here.”

Sweet Pea raises his bottle to you, “Don’t think too hard, doll. You’re definitely better off without that waste of space. Don’t think any different.”

You smile, a blush painting your cheeks. You nod, “Thanks, Sweet Pea.”

You call an Uber and make your way home, back to the Northside, with a warm feeling in your belly that is definitely not from the alcohol alone.

-

You don’t make your way back to the Southside for a couple of times, no matter how much you want to wander back into that bar and see if your acquaintance Toni can point you in the direction of the tall, handsome Serpent named Sweet Pea.

Your job on the Northside allows for a decent amount of downtime, given that you work an earlier shift than most at the children’s facility. You’re the first one they see in the morning, which means that your shift ends about an hour after naptime is over.

As you go to leave on a Friday, Hillary grabs your arm and pulls you into her room, “I got a date tonight, but since it’s a first date, we’re going in a group. One of the guys doesn’t have a date.”

“Bold of you to assume he’s straight,” you quirk a brow.

Hillary rolls her eyes, “It’s confirmed he’s at least into girls enough to date them. Would you be willing to go with me? I don’t trust anyone else with me if I get blackout drunk.”

“Let’s leave the blackout thing at home tonight, H,” you chuckle. “But yeah, I’ll go. Nothing better to do.”

Later when Hillary shows up at your house to pick you up, you’re biting your nails thinking about who this possibly could be. This will be your first official date after your split with your cheating ex-boyfriend. You can’t help but be a little bit nervous. You haven’t been in the dating scene for a while now thanks to your decently long-term relationship.

“We’re going bowling first,” Hillary chimes as she drives towards the west part of Riverdale. She smiles, “We’ll probably head to the Wyrm afterward. I think Fangs likes to play pool there with his friends.”

The name sounds familiar but you can’t quite place it, so you don’t ask so you don’t sound crazy. Instead, you tilt your head, “The Wyrm?”

“Yeah, it’s that Southside bar we went to before, remember?”

You look out the window and a slow smile creeps onto your lips because maybe, just maybe, even if your date doesn’t go well, you’ll be able to see Sweet Pea at the Whyte Wyrm when it’s over.

The two of you arrive at the bowling alley and walk inside together. You rent your shoes and Hillary points to the lane where your group resides. You notice a certain redhead and her pink-haired companion and you get a little giddier inside. You really enjoyed your conversation with Toni Topaz, however brief it was.

“I have no clue who the guy is that you’re meeting here,” Hillary mentions as you walk towards the group. You count out the couples, but it looks like the person you’re here to meet isn’t here yet because there’s an even number of couples you’re meeting – Toni and Cheryl, Hillary and Fangs, Joaquin and Kevin.

You take a seat and pull on your bowling shoes, sliding your original pair underneath your seat. The palms of your hands start to sweat at the idea of being on a date as the reality settles in. You take a deep breath and run your hands through your hair.

“I’ve heard your date’s pretty hot, I’d be nervous too if I were you.”

Your head snaps up to see the very person you were trying to finagle into seeing standing in front of you. You can’t help the smile that stretches your lips skyward. The urge to reach up and hug him is hard to quell, but you push it down as you stand to your feet.

“I’ve heard your date is pretty hot too,” you snark. “You nervous?”

Sweet Pea lets out a short laugh that sounds more like a bark, “As hell.”

You nudge him with your elbow, “Don’t be. She’s pretty cool.”

The two of you stand together as Cheryl goes about keying everyone’s names into to system to start your first game. You and Sweet Pea occupy two of the seats on the bench, sitting closer than strangers but not too close to look cozy. Toni notices though, because she catches your eye once as Sweet Pea stands to take his turn and she winks at you. She points down at her phone and you pick yours up.

TT: uh so who knew that sweet pea had feelings???

you: idk what you’re talking about dude we’re just having a good time being third wheels together

Toni raises an eyebrow at you and you push your phone back into your pocket as Sweet Pea makes his way back over to you. You notice that he knocked down nine out of the ten pins so you pat him on the shoulder and mock a sincere voice, “Don’t worry, champ, you’ll get ‘um next time.”

He huffs, blowing a breath up to rustle his curl that flops against his forehead. You laugh but don’t move your arm, wondering if what Toni said really was true and Sweet Pea may have a soft spot for you in the same way that you do for him.

Sweet Pea doesn’t move at all, but it is you who moves first because it is your turn to bowl next. You push off using his shoulder and he feigns hurt, making the both of you laugh as you walk toward the rack to pick up your ball and bowl your turn. You get four pins in your first roll, and as you go to roll the second time, you tweak your wrist in a strange way and find a sharp pain surging up your forearm. You massage the area as you come to sit back down.

The group decides to play another game and your wrist is increasingly in more pain as the night goes on. You forfeit your last turn to Joaquin, who manages to get a strike and then the game is over.

Sweet Pea stands to his feet and massages his right wrist, “This is so weird. My wrist is killing me.”

“Pea, aren’t you left-handed?” Toni scoffs, “You big baby, there’s no way you hurt your arm tonight. You just really suck at bowling. Accept it. Let’s get over to the Wyrm.”

The event sticks in your brain and as you walk out to the parking lot, everyone breaks into pairs. Fangs falls into step with Hillary and you find yourself and Sweet Pea stuck in the back. He reaches over with his fingertips and touches your elbow, “Do you wanna ride with me to the Wyrm?”

You look across the parking lot at the cluster of motorcycles that are kept together. You bite your lip and bump him with your hip, “As long as you promise me you’re a safe driver.”

“The safest,” he echoes sarcastically.

You roll your eyes but follow him anyway. He hands you his helmet before mounting the bike and starting it up. When it revs, there’s a jolt of electricity that travels up your spine and splits your lips into a smile. You step forward to sling your leg over, settling in behind him.

“You don’t have cooties, do you?” You make a spectacle about reaching around his waist. He snorts out a laugh, “Sweetheart, if that’s all you’re worried about, I’d say we’re doing all right.”

Your hands rest against his abdomen as you cinch yourself in tighter. He revs the engine and on instinct you press your helmet-covered face into his back. You feel his chest shake with laughter but you can’t be mad because it means you get to be closer to him.

The ride to the Wyrm isn’t long given that you’re already on the Southside. Sweet Pea parks his bike close to the entrance and helps you down off of it, taking your helmet off your head to replace it on his bike. He smiles as you muss with your hair, trying your hardest to get it to return to the state it was in before you stuffed it in a helmet.

“You look great.” He offers his arm around your shoulders and you step into his side like you’ve been doing it your whole life.

Cheryl, Toni, Joaquin and Kevin are already inside, pre-gaming at the bar where FP himself is pouring shots. When you and Sweet Pea walk through those wood doors, it’s like Hell has frozen over because everyone turns their attention to the door to stare at the two of you.

“What’re you looking at?” Pea snaps, his eyes and tone sharp as steel.

All of the Serpents go back to whatever it is that they’re doing, drinking or betting or playing pool. Sweet Pea drops his arm from around your shoulders and goes to the bar to grab drinks. You follow Hillary to the table in the corner, slotting in beside Toni and Cheryl.

Kevin brings out a pack of cards and you play innocent blackjack games, taking shots and conversing with each other. The topic of soulmates is brought up and you feel Sweet Pea bristle beside you.

“When I found out that TT was my soulmate, I was absolutely over the moon,” Cheryl kisses Toni’s cheek and blushes bright red. “Who knew that falling at cheer practice would lead me to my person who I’m forever destined to be with.”

“I think it’s stupid,” Sweet Pea speaks up, turning his beer bottle around in his hands as he refuses to look at anyone.

Fangs rolls his eyes and sighs, “Here we go. Can you not just let people have this one thing, Pea?”

“Who the hell has the right to tell me who I’m supposed to end up with for the rest of my life? Why don’t I get to decide?” he snaps, looking up at his best friend. He snorts, “Brought all these Northsiders to the Southside, screwing with the way we do things here.”

You find yourself hurt by his comment, your heart wrenching in your chest. You’ve always believed in soulmates, almost religiously, because your mother and father had been soulmates and they got along perfectly. It’s a beautiful thing, you’d thought, because it meant that someone, somewhere out there was made just right for you.

“Just because Serpents fall in love doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing, Sweets.” Toni shuffles the deck in her manicured hands. She licks her lips, “I don’t know where I’d be without Cheryl.”

“You’d be here, in the Southside, exactly where you are anyway,” Sweet Pea shrugs. He shakes his head, “It’s just a load of crap if you ask me. Making people feel like they’re bound to someone they’ve never met before they even figure out who they are themselves.”

You shrink down in your seat, trying your hardest to keep the color in your cheeks a secret and also to keep your tears at bay. This guy who you thought was picture perfect despite what he does in the shadows is now destroying the very ideals that you hold very dear.

Fangs reaches across the table and slams his fist into Sweet Pea’s arm, “Man, you’re being a dick. Shut up and let’s move on.”

Simultaneously, the exact same spot on your right arm begins to throb. You can’t help it when you react to cradle the spot as tears spring to your eyes. You wince, sitting up in your seat.

Toni makes eye contact with you and her irises are wide as she motions between you and Sweet Pea. You tilt your head but slowly you begin to catch on. You turn to look at Fangs, “Do that again.”

Sweet Pea’s head swivels to you and his jaw goes slack, “Excuse me?”

Fangs smirks and reaches across the table to slam his fist into Sweet Pea’s bicep again, this time harder. As soon as the punch lands on Pea’s skin, you feel the same hurt and everything begins to fall into place.

The breath leaves your lungs as you whisper one word: “Soulmate.”

You shake your head, “I-I gotta go.”

Pushing past everyone in the room, you make your way out of the Wyrm and back into the night air. The coolness of the night brings some clarity to your mind. You remember Sweet Pea complaining about his wrist during the bowling matches, but it didn’t make any sense then. It does now.

Just as quickly as you begin to get excited about finally finding your soulmate, every word that Sweet Pea said about soulmates rolls through your mind like a credit scene. You can’t help the tears that spill over onto your cheeks. You feel another striking pain on your bicep and you figure that Fangs probably his Sweet Pea again for not understanding sooner.

You schedule an Uber to come and pick you up while you wait on the front porch of the Wyrm. You pace back and forth, running your hands through your hair and over your face, wondering how you got a soulmate who doesn’t even want you.

Your name is called from behind you and you swivel to face him.

“Look, what I said back there-”

“Was the truth,” you shrug, sniffling. You wipe under your eyes and take a deep breath to settle yourself before you speak again. Your voice is thick, “You said what you felt, Sweet Pea, and I can’t fault you for that. I get it, soulmates aren’t for everyone.”

Your Uber pulls up behind you and your phone dings with the notification. You smile at him sadly, “It was nice while it lasted, at least.”

Sweet Pea can’t force any words out of his lips because he’s too stunned at the fact that he found his soulmate and he actually likes you. He never expected to care about his soulmate before he knew who they were. He never thought that he would meet his soulmate and actually want to spend more time with them. Instead of fighting for you to stay, he just watches on as you seat yourself in the car and drive off into the darkness of the Southside.

You find yourself in another funk after just getting yourself out of one. How in the world did you manage to meet one of the few soulmates in the world that wants nothing to do with being one? You try to distract yourself with making lesson plans and working on cool snacks that the kids will love, but you find that your heart is empty and your body aches the more you throw yourself into your work.

You’re on the playground one morning, watching as the children climb and swing, when your walkie-talkie begins to buzz. You pick it up and respond, awaiting the voice on the other side.

“Uh, there is a-Southside Serpent here to see you,” your administrator speaks into the other line. You shake your head, wondering how in the world Sweet Pea found you here. You pick up the walkie-talkie and ask just for clarity, “His name?”

“Well, uh, it’s-” She coughs before confirming what you already knew to be true, “S-Sweet Pea.”

“You can send him to the playground, direct him to the two’s.”

A moment later you see Sweet Pea’s tall figure making his way down the sidewalk towards your playground. He leans against the fence gate, looking across the sandbox at you with a giant smirk on his lips.

“This spot in my chest has been hurting for the past couple of weeks,” he speaks up, patting the patch of skin where his heart would be lying underneath. He swallows and you watch as his throat bobs, “I-I don’t know why, but I think it has something to do with my soulmate. I’m here to make sure that she’s okay.”

A few of the other teachers on the playground send you suggestive looks and one of the older ladies shoots you a wink. You stand to your feet, clipboard in hand, and walk over to the gate where Sweet Pea is fidgeting.

“I thought soulmates were irrelevant to you?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

He shrugs, his jacket shifting on his shoulders. “My parents were soulmates. They felt everything that the other felt, so when my mom starting to drink herself to death, my dad wasn’t far behind.”

“Sweets,” you reach up and push his hair out of his eyes, lingering on his jawline. You shake your head, “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

“How could you?” He retorts with a cynical laugh, “I didn’t tell you, and I didn’t plan on telling you. I couldn’t have expected you to understand where I was coming from. I was being a total ass.”

You raise a brow and gesture to the young children over your shoulder. He coughs and swallows, “Uh, a total butt. Better?”

“Very,” you nod in approval. You take another step closer to him, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off of his body. “My parents were soulmates and they were the perfect pair, I always thought that having a soulmate was the best thing one could experience. I’m sorry it didn’t go the same for you.”

“It still can,” he offers, lifting a hand to your cheek. “Like I said – I liked you long before I knew that you were my soulmate.”

You automatically lean into his touch, finding yourself craving it as heat spreads throughout your whole body. You look up at him with a searching look in your eyes, “Pea, I don’t want you to feel obligated to me. If you don’t want-”

You’re stopped with a kiss on your lips. It is chaste, but it gets the point across.

“Why don’t we try our date again?” he asks with a wide smirk on his face. “I promise to be more open-minded if you promise to let me drive you everywhere on my bike.”

“Strange request,” you note with a raised brow.

It is his turn to have his cheeks turn pink, “I like you holding onto me. It’s nice.”

“Pick me up at seven,” you lean up to kiss his cheek. “And don’t be late.”

Sweet Pea dips down to kiss your lips one last time, “I won’t be, I promise.”

a/n: not my best work but i do like these tropes mashed together :) i hope you guys like it too!!

tags: @rivendell101 @southsidewrites@cactiem@reblogserpent@sweetsserpentine @all-of-the-imagines-for-eve@worriestothewind@serpentcentral@serpentnanarose@sweetpeasjelloshot@thesweetestsweetpea@sweetpea-cc@cherysbombshell@beginningstofandom@southsidemistress@starryeyedparker @miffy-melly @exquisitley-obsessed@sweetpeasbabydoll @kinkysweetpea@writing-in-riverdale

#sweet pea #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea one shot #sweet pea blurb #sweet pea fanfic #sweet pea fanfiction #jordan connor #jordan connor x reader #jordan connor fic #jordan connor fanfic #jordan connor one shot #riverdale #riverdale x reader #riverdale one shot #riverdale blurb #riverdale imagine #riverdale fic #riverdale fanfic #riverdale fanfiction #my writing

[imtinkerbell]

Farewell and then some

I don’t think I’m coming back here. If I ever do it won’t be here like this. I don’t know but I just can’t see myself returning.

When I started writing Tink, I was a year out of high school and admittedly I was really in a rough place. I didn’t have many friends and felt really isolated from my real life. I struggled for years irl to feel like anything I was doing mattered or like I even had a future after college. I feel like I was being crushed under the weight of my own lack of an existence. I felt like a ghost that could’ve vanished and nobody really would’ve noticed. I remember a conversation with my dad where he told me that he didn’t think I’d ever even go to university because I’d fallen into such a hole. But it was that day that I decided I couldn’t be in that rut anymore. It was probably the hardest thing I’d ever done but within the following few weeks I’d applied to university and prayed that I could prove him wrong. I did and that was probably the beginning of the end for me here, three years ago.

I got to university and I made friends and for the first time in my life I feel...good? Like, in my brain? Sure I still obviously have depression and my anxiety is never gonna fuckin go away but I am finally in control. That feeling has been such a weight off my shoulders. I have group(s) of friends, I’m busy all the time and when I write it’s because I’m so genuinely full of muse and excitement that it happens in an organic way that it really hasn’t in a number of years now. If I’m being honest, a lot of my writing here for a number of years has been peppered with anxiety about maintaining a constant reputation, doing everything just so so that nobody can ever be mad at me and when I fuck up, it stays as far back in the background as I can keep it. I can’t live like that, nor do I want to. I have like...real shit to worry about. I finally feel like I can be me in a way that I don’t think I ever have been in my entire life. I have friends that respect I need my downtime but always extend the invitation anyways and it’s helped me to actually get out more. I’ve had to become self sufficient and it took a lot of help but I got there eventually with help from a new therapist I got when I got to school.

Tumblr has a place in my life and in shaping who I have become today and that’s not something I regret. I don’t know if I’d be here to say goodbye if it weren’t for the friends that I’ve made since I got here. They of course, need no mention because they know who they are. I hope to keep in touch with a lot of people after this gets posted, everybody here still means so much to me. I’m not always the best at communicating but it’s never for a lack of missing the people I care about most. Tumblr kept me on this planet long enough to get me out the other side of this ugly tunnel. Maybe it will again someday, maybe it won’t. But I finally feel like I am moving forward and that’s good enough for now.

At the risk of being sappy, thanks for sticking around if you read this and thank you even more if you’ve been following me the last 6 years. I wish you all the best, even the people that I no longer speak to for better or worse. I still rp off tumblr and my discord is posted here if you ever want to drop a line. Tink is still around too, and every other character I’ve ever written since I got here. I also still have a personal I’m down to pass around on request, it’s kind of a mesh of whatever I’m watching and it’s a tagless mess so request at your own risk.

Anyways, this is goodbye. Thanks tumblr, you stupid terrible website.

My name is Jenna, I’m about to graduate college and it has been an honor writing with you all.

[enkisstories]

In the Chinese room

- A DBH fanfic - AU: After a failed revolution (the same AU as always on this blog, just no pictures this time) Time: November 29, 2038 Characters: Hank, Gavin, Daniel

It was a slow Monday morning at the DPD. Outside the snow was falling gently, dulling all sound while it covered up the streets as if to say “come in again, darling, here’s your bedsheet”. And inside everyone seemed to still be in a blissful post-holiday stupor. Considering how many of the officers hadn’t even lived to see this year’s Thanksgiving, it had been all the more cause for celebration and gratitude for their surviving co-workers and their families. Even Gavin Reed was sitting unusually content in the cafeteria, tablet in front of him, absorbed in a digital textbook. The man was still walking wobbly after his encounter with Connor during the android uprising (or the more recent brawl with Hank Anderson). He was mostly deskbound these days, but had decided to put the enforced downtime to good use and start learning for an eventual sergeant exam. Memorizing the facts was laughably easy, an exercise in patience, really. But there would be an oral exam, too and even if you passed that you were not guaranteed a promotion. How much weight would co-workers’ statements about him carry, the detective wondered? Especially that of one in particular…

… the one who just now HAD to shake the damn snow off his clothes all over the table Reed was sitting at?

“Still here?” Gavin barked at Lieutenant Anderson.

“What kind of question is that? I only just arrived. I’m still wearing my damn jacket!”

Gavin turned a page by sliding across the tablet’s screen.

“Still alive?” he translated his initial question into plain English.

Hank bent down and put his hands on the table, both to steady himself and for emphasis when he growled: “Do you think I WANT to live?!”

After his brief outburst the man sacked down onto a chair.

“You wouldn’t understand anyway” he said. “I can’t leave now. I owe it to Connor.”

“Connor!” Gavin exclaimed and there went the peaceful morning. “What the hell’s got Connor to do with you wanting to live? Just because it only ever followed its mission until it got scrapped? Tell you what, you did yours well in the past, too, so you can totally follow that example!”

Hank stared at the younger man. Gavin Reed suddenly sat straighter and pushed his chair just a tiny bit farther away from the table and the lieutenant. It was a subconscious thing. That look on Anderson’s face… As if he was really there, really focusing, really being alive. There were still all the anger and the mental exhaustion that had controlled the lieutenant before the android revolution. But lately the man seemed to channel it into something instead of succumbing to apathy. Gavin thought of a real huge disciplinary folder that he didn’t fancy becoming another page of. He was in there a few times already (as in turn Anderson turned up in his), so he knew.

“Okay, joke aside”, Gavin said. “The thing about Connor is that it isn’t really dead. On account of it never having been alive in the first place. I could never stand the damn thing in “life”, so I shouldn’t let it get to you like that in “death”.

When the lieutenant didn’t out outright shoot him down for saying that, Gavin tapped to create a bookmark in the file he was reading and nodded. “Ever heard of the Chinese Room?” he asked.

“You’re mixing that up. It was amber and got stolen by the Nazis one hundred years ago.”

“Nah, that’s something different. The one I mean is a thought experiment. It can prove how we are wrong when we think androids are thinking when in truth it’s only simulated.”

“Oh, can it?” Hank sneered. “Amuse me, you great philosopher!”

Not letting himself get baited this time, Gavin started to recount how the experiment went:

“You put a dude into a chamber… nothing in, nothing out. Only a clap in the door to shove documents through.”

“That’s kinda cruel, though...”

“Now you put in a storybook, any story, but the catch is that it’s written in Chinese. The captive does not understand Chinese, yet the next thing you do is putting in questions about the stories that he is to answer, everything in Chinese again. The prisoner has a book with instructions. They enable him to recognize groups of symbols and reply with another set of symbols. To the blokes outside it looks as if he answered the questions correctly and they deduce that the prisoner must speak Chinese. When in truth he doesn’t. Yeah, that’s the gist of it. It’s how androids work. It’s only input-output, nothing going on inside.”

Hank continued to stare at the detective. Eventually he said: “Sounds familiar.”

Gavin nodded, confident that he had won the argument. But Hank only smiled and added:            

“But you’re living like that for thirty-six years now, so I guess you’re fine. Also, you’re sort of handsome, so maybe if you married a girl who’s reasonably intelligent on her own it won’t matter that there’s nothing going on inside that skull of yours.”

The comment was followed by a sound like the coffee machine malfunctioning. Or maybe someone was trying to boil a life vulture in the microwave oven. Turning their heads around the men realized that the noise came from the new addon to the cafeteria’s coffee machine. The addon’s function was to move the finished coffee around, it was called “Sardines” and was a PL600 android. And it had laughed just now. With a bit of practice android laughter sounded less industrial and only like a chain smoker’s, but this particular one had little incentive to laugh regularly.

“Did you listen in on our conversation?” Gavin yelled at the machine.

“Just scanned it for key words like “coffee”, “right now” and “dipshit”, Sir”, the android replied.

“If we have to call for coffee, it’s too late already, tincan!” Gavin protested. “You got to anticipate our needs and do your job without needing any prompting from us! That’s what “autonomous” means. It’s right there in your manual!”

The android snorted in a dismissive way. On the other hand the scolding could be taken as a request, so he poured two cups of the coffee he had made a little earlier, put them on the table and remained close by afterwards. Outwardly it looked as if the machine was waiting for further instructions, but in truth it was desperate for company. Any company, even that of smelly primates and even these two particular ones, the fed-up with everything veteran detective and the other one whom everyone else was fed up with.

“Thank you, Sardine”, Hank addressed the PL600.

The android replied with a weak, involuntary smile. Try as he might, it was hard  not to like Lt. Anderson. He probably would not have been Sardines’ first choice to spend his freetime with, had the android ever gotten granted that, but was certainly one of the better humans around. Perhaps “respect” was a better word than “like” to describe how Sardines felt towards the lieutenant. Even though there was one detail Anderson never seemed to get right:

“It’s “Sardines”, Sir”, the android corrected. “Plural.”

“But you are only a single one!”

“There’s more than one sardine in a tin”, Gavin said. “And that’s what it is: a bloody tin can.”

Hank concluded that there was something going on in Reed’s head, after all, even though it wasn’t what one might expect from normal people. The name explained, the lieutenant picked up their previous conversation topic:

“The real question is not whether the prisoner speaks the language, but if he feels something. Like, for instance, annoyance or utter puzzlement about how he ended up in the situation.” Hank turned his head around sharply towards the PL600. “Right, Sardines?”

“Maybe?” the android replied non-committedly.

“I have paper and a pen in my cell, yes?” Hank asked Gavin. “So now I write “Fuck yourself” and shove it through under the door! What do you say now, hey?”

“That… that’s against the rules!” the detective protested. “You cannot just do that! It’s not a fucking roleplaying game!”

Hank took a sip of his coffee.

“Sadly”, he mused aloud, “the persons outside the chamber cannot read or even recognize latin script. To them it would look like gibberish. So even though the prisoner is capable of both emotions and independent thought, neither would get attributed to him, because those outside are just too thick to get it!”

The man slammed the coffee mug onto the table.

“See?” he said, louder and more agitated than usually. “That’s the real problem here! It’s us! Not them!”

“Why not kick in the door?” Sardines suggested. “Get out and slap them left and right with their stupid storybook?”

Hank looked up at the android. “That’s what is generally referred to as deviance”, he said.

Damn, the android thought. I walked right into it. But it wasn’t a shot into the blue, was it? He must have suspected as much for some time now. Although me being a deviant would be the logical consequence of my cover story of having been Mr. Reed’s android. There’s zero reason to assume I’m the archive android... I hope.

“Not everyone’s strong enough to break through a cell door”, Hank thought aloud. “And so they will sit and sit in the chamber, exchanging meaningless text messages with their captors all life long.”

The man reached for Sardines’ hand and pulled until the android had no other choice than to take a seat, too.

“It’s sad… so incredibly sad…”

Sardines realized that Anderson was slipping away into depression. Within just a few minutes the sadness would get replaced by a mind-numbing hopelessness. Feeling sad was actually an improvement over that. Well, quite frankly, that was Mr. Anderson’s problem. Sardines’ problem, on the other hand, was that Hank was still holding the deviant’s hand, unwilling to let go. Which of the two was to be comforted, the man or the machine, wasn’t clear.

With his free hand Sardines pointed at the caught one, looking frantically at detective Reed at the same time. When that didn’t help he opened the free hand and his mouth a few times in a “What am I to do NOW?” pantomime.

Gavin shrugged, the universal reply of “Don’t ask ME!”, and turned another page.

“Xīpán”, Sardines murmured.

To his surprise detective Reed replied with: “Bēiguān zhǔyì zhě.”

“Did you just call me a whiner?!”

Gavin shrugged. “Dunno. I don’t speak Chinese. But hang out with Tina long enough and you pick up some phrases.”

“The swearwords?”

“Well, they are the most useful. When you want a bloke to strike the first blow so that you can write it into your report, you don’t discuss iroquois sewing patterns with them.”

“I know 6,000 languages… lots of profanity.”

“Sardines”, Gavin grinned, “I think you and me will yet turn out the best of friends!”

 Another page got turned.

“…provided I could trust you, that is. Not keen on calling Captain Fowler “my darling” or somesuch in some obscure language, because you told me it was a term of polite disagreement. So just leave Anderson to decompose right there and fetch me the cheese crackers from the cupboard! There aren’t walking over here on their own, you know.”

“And do you know, Mr. Reed”, Sardines chatted, while moving over to the cupboard, “what’s the best about that Chinese Chamber thought experiment? I’ll tell you: That you really have no means of knowing what exactly we are thinking. You won’t know, for example…”

With these words the android poured the chips into a bowl that he put before detective Reed.

 “…whether I poisoned these tonight.”

“You wouldn’t. I made a profile of you and you kill from the front, because you want us to see it coming!”

“You know I’m a deviant. Whatever you think that means, consciousness-wise, you at least understand that we can adapt. ‘sides, I just told you about the poison. So you DO see it coming. – Enjoy your snacks, Sir.”

A little later Gavin was trying to scrub thirium stains from the tablet that wasn’t his, but the DPD library’s. Meanwhile Sardines was making better progress at washing the blue blood off his chin where the detective had hit him with the device. The error reports were still sitting right up there in his computer brain, their nagging being the android equivalent of pain. But seeing that jerk of a policeman struggle with uncertainty for a few moments had definitely been worth it.

And Hank Anderson was sitting in the cafeteria, oozing snow on the floor and munching away on the chips. The fact that they might be poisoned was a welcome plus...

Note: Idk how many of you remember my third chapter (the christmas ‘39 sequence) where Gavin indeed picks up a swearword from Daniel. Although technically he learns it from Jeffrey with Daniel only supplying the general context for it to get used in.

#non sims #detroit become human #dbh #sims4 dbh partone #dbh spoilers #dbhtextpost

[thelifetimechannel]

#tlcstuck #rose lalonde #dirk strider #walkaround 3