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#detroit ride or die forever & always
crossbackpoke-check · 2 years
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bring a friend home today! adopt, don’t shop 🐶@metroitdetroitanimals 6.28.2022
#vladislav namestnikov#dallas stars#be the red wings content you want to see in the world i guess#absolutely devastated by these thanks. it’s been like a week and i’m finally able to post this because i had such an unreasonable reaction 😭#we don’t need to talk about the fact that i liked this it’s fine just ignore it & instead we can not talk abt how i went 🥹🥹 vladdy came home#realized. that i typed be the ‘red wings’ content you want to see right when i needed to type the tags & move them so they show up &. he’s.#i was trying to be clever with the caption but my entire brain just kept wailing ‘BRING HIM HOMEEEEEEE’ but actually now that i look w/ the#draft coming up… adopt don’t shop bring vladdy home we can buy a new little defenseman at the store we already have centers at the shelter#all of the terrible articles i have been reading that are like ‘why the red wings should acquire claude giroux’ and i’m like actually yeah#we can adopt that one guys!! adopt don’t shop!!! also should mention i was reading an article about what free agents yzerman should sign &#it wasn’t even about vladdy for the main one but it was some dude & at the bottom of each profile they had like ‘other options’ and for one#of them one of the other options was just ‘vladislav namestnikov’ & i did screenshot it & highlight it & cry bc i love him & i still forget#that vladdy isn’t a red wing anymore. like my brain simply REFUSES to acknowledge it every time it hits me all over again he’s in dallas now#dallas stop taking the men i love & ruining my narratives i want you to put them back#detroit ride or die forever & always#vladdy with DOGSSSS have y’all SEEN his little frenchie he and fabs are frenchie besties please you need to bring them back together#just like how aspen & millie are girlfriends & if you won’t bring moe back for the team’s sake do it for the dogs like what about ellie????#vladdy coming back to support the charity he picked back when he was still a wing makes me (oozing pile of tears in the middle of the marsh)#vibes of pk STILL being one of the biggest supporters of the montreal children’s hospital except it’s not little kids it’s an animal shelter#to explain to you the extent that i have not stopped thinking about this post the other day when i was at work i was thinking about how mtl#did like a ‘tourists in mtl’ thing & was like okay but i want them to take the mojoe show around to show people detroit but then i went wait#do you remember connor’s farm workout like what hockeys do i want to see on a farm & i immediately went ‘VLADDY’ like can’t you just see it#he would just be absolutely delighted to be on a farm & he’d be so excited to see all the animals & i want them all to take a trip to belle#isle & go to the aquarium & the conservancy & i just think that vladdy would love hanging out w/goats & then i had to go ‘hE’S nOt On ThE-’#what i’m saying is: detroit bring vladdy home so that i can see him hang out with cool animals. i want to take vladdy to the zoo#he seems really nice & he would sit at one enclosure with me for four hours & we would just watch them chill out & he should come home pls
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djfrankk · 1 year
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Jahresrückblick 2022
Finally: 10 mal Dancefloor. 30 Alben. 10 mal Radio. 1 mal alles andere (15.01.2023)
BEST TRACKS (DANCEFLOOR)
1. hudson mohawke – dance forever 2. beyonce – break my soul 3. donna savage – crush 4. romare – priestess 5. paula jets – jazzfest 6. marcel dettmann – suffice to predict 7. keke – thick8. kungs & boys noize – fashion 9. asther the producer & el completo rd – blim blim blam blam 10. nickodemus & qvln – werere (congafist percussao mix)
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BEST ALBUMS
1. viagra boys – cave world 2. fontaines d.c. – skinty fia 3. meat wave – malgin hex 4. kamp & fid mella - 2urück 0hne 2ukunft 5. hudson mohawke – cry sugar 6. kode9 – escapology 7. hieroglyphic being – there is no acid in this house 8. cypress hill – back in black 9. preoccupations – arrangements 10. beach house - Once Twice Melody
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11. suff daddy – basically sober 12. b.visible – pleasant clutter 13. leon vynehall - fabric presents Leon Vynehall 14. tsha – fabric presents tsha (dj mix) 15. theo parrish – dj-kicks (detroit forward) 16. romare – fantasy 17. loop – sonancy 18. danger mouse & black thought – cheat codes 19. beyoncé – renaissance 20. guerilla toss – famously alive
21. dälek – precipice 22. dead cross – dead cross II 22. santigold – spirituals 23. !!! – let it be blue 24. moderat - more d4ta 25. napalm death – resentment is always seismic - a final throw of throes [EP] 26. rosalia – motomami 27. ebow – canê 28. black midi – hellfire 29. die sterne – hallo euphoria 30. tv priest – my other people
BEST SONGS (INDIE, POP & RADIO) (zufällige reihenfolge) dead cross – love without love die sterne – gleich hinter krefeld m.i.a. – popular diana ross & tame impala – turn up the sunshine meat wave – complaint viagra boys – ain't no thief fontaines d.c. – i love you cari cari – zdarlight 1992 rosalia – chicken teriyaki cypress hill – the ride
AND ALSO …   DJ/ELECTRONIC SET – CONCERT – protomatyr, rote fabrik, zürich FESTIVAL – keines, to be honest CLUB – gasthaus dopler TV – star trek lower decks, dope sick, we own this city RADIO – fm4 unlimited MOVIE – night mare alley MUSIC-VIDEO – MAGAZINE – trasher MUSIC-MAGAZINE – ox BOOK – wu-tang ist forever NOT BAD – sich ein jahr auf eine sache konzentrieren NOT GOOD – war 2022 – weniger arbeiten, mehr blog einträge
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blackcatkita · 3 years
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Second Chances- Chapter 2
Running For You
Book- Ride or Die
Logan x Ellie
Rating- Teen, I guess? I don't know, I'm not your mother.
Word Count- 2798
A/N- No warnings I can think of except mild swearing. This took a long time to come out, didn't it? Oh, well, it's here now and I gotta say, I'm moderately happy with how it turned out! I hope you all enjoy Logan's POV and as always, I truly appreciate every like, comment, reblog, and all of you, my dear readers.
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Running For You
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Go.
Drive.
The clutch hummed beneath his left foot, the other pressed on the brake. Hand gripping the shift knob, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe through the pain. If he looked at her, even a glance, he wouldn’t be able to leave. And he had to leave- for her. He had to leave.
Just get the hell out of here and drive!
He released the clutch and opened his eyes at the exact moment he hit the gas, and he drove away. Away from the only girl he’d ever loved. Away from the only one who’d ever loved him. Away from the foolish fantasy he’d allowed himself to believe the last few months.
He knew how this would end from the start; it had been stupid to think otherwise. She was a light in the dark, smart, and beautiful, with an entire world of possibilities just waiting for her. He was a punk high-school drop-out car thief going nowhere but prison or six feet under. He would only bring her down and he wouldn’t let that happen. She deserved more than he could ever give her. She deserved everything, and without him in the picture, she was free to get it.
And so, he drove, only making it a couple of miles from her house before the tears welling in his eyes blurred his vision enough he couldn’t see. How could it hurt so much? He asked himself. How could anything hurt this much? He pulled over and turned off the engine, chest tight and heaving as he struggled to breathe… and he cried.
**********
Weeks ticked by with mile markers as he made his way to Detroit. Stops in Phoenix, Lubbock, Plano, Fayetteville, Memphis, and Chicago kept money in his pocket, not that he needed the cash. He’d managed to save quite a bit while working for Kaneko. Too many times he’d seen people living by the next payout that might never come, then blowing it all on drugs or gambling or some other complete waste that didn’t get you anywhere but on the street. Or dead if you couldn’t pay your debts. He was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.
Still, the money he had stashed wouldn’t last forever, and college towns were full of cocky idiots who didn’t know how to drive the cars mommy and daddy bought them. Rich assholes who were all too eager to lose money they didn’t earn themselves, and Logan was happy to help them part with it. He never stayed long, two days, tops. Just long enough to get a new burner phone and make some money before the Brotherhood or FBI got wind of where he was.
Not a day went by when he didn’t think of Ellie. He’d imagine her riding shotgun, the wind blowing through her hair with the sun kissing her golden skin. The way she’d sing at the top of her lungs even though she couldn’t carry a tune to save her life, then laughing because she knew she couldn’t.
It wasn’t healthy; he knew that.
Only two people knew the situation that he’d spoken to since he left: Vaughn and Colt. Their opinions were as conflicting as his own thoughts; go after her and let her go. Vaughn never was one to think things through. Act first and deal with the consequences later, but Logan didn’t have the luxury, not when he had Ellie’s future to think about.
Colt’s advice was to let her live her life, give it time and he’d forget all about her as she would him. Of course, the asshole would say that, like he himself could ever forget her. Maybe he could, but Logan couldn’t. Ellie was more than a memory that would fade over time.
He didn’t want to forget. Didn’t want to forget how perfectly she fit tucked beneath his chin as he held her in his arms, the delicately floral scent of her perfume, or how she would mumble random facts while doing mundane things when she was cramming for a test.
She was a ghost, haunting his every waking thought and a near-constant presence in his dreams.
He’d been in Detroit nearly a month before it became too much to bear and he called her for the first time. If everything had gone according to her plan, she’d be somewhere between LA and Langston- away from her dad and his eavesdropping ears. Not that it mattered. As soon as she said hello, his throat closed up and he couldn’t speak. What would he have even said? What gave him the right to say anything after all he’d done?
It took another week to gather up the nerve to call her the second time and by the third, she figured out it was him, even though he never said a word. It went on for months, each call intended to be the last. But as she told him about the classes she was taking, the people she was meeting, leaving the parties Ingrid dragged her to early, he couldn’t stop. Her voice was a drug he didn’t want to quit. An anchor to a life he wished he had. A life with her.
He wanted to tell her everything. About his buddy Zach from back in the day, who went straight when he met his wife. How Zach gave him not only a job at the garage he managed but a place to stay as well. About babysitting Zach’s four-year-old son Mason, building forts, and getting play-doh stuck in the carpet. How he had her to thank for taking classes and getting his GED.
Most of all, he wanted to tell her how every night he’d look up at the stars and think of her, wondering if she was doing the same. How much he missed her. How he still loved her and always would. How much he regretted leaving her that night and how sorry he was for everything. He was so goddamn sorry.
But he couldn’t. Doing so would only open the door of communication even further, giving her false hope there was a future for them when there wasn’t. The day would come when he’d let her go. Let her be free to chase the life she deserved instead of the one where he’d only hold her back. Maybe it would be when she finally told him to stop calling or stopped taking his calls altogether. Or maybe he would stop being a damn coward and do the noble thing for once in his life.
Closing the garage for the night, Logan walked across the empty lot to his unimpressive and inconspicuous used car parked beneath the flickering pole-mounted light. He made a mental note to call to get the bulb replaced as soon as he got back to the garage in the morning and slid behind the wheel, letting out a groan even louder than the creaking of the worn seat.
It’d been a long day. Fourteen hours of work, three of them past when everyone else left, to make sure a single mom’s car was done so she could take her kids to school in the morning. Exhaustion seeped into his every pore as he rolled down the window, hoping the cold night air would keep him from falling asleep on the way back to Zach’s place. Glancing up, he saw stars dotting the clear November sky and thought of Ellie like he always did. Like he promised her he would.
Telling himself it was too late to call, and she was probably sleeping already, he took his phone from his pocket and pulled up her contact info.
She answered after the second ring, her voice soft and tired, “Logan? It’s late… are you okay?” She let out a heavy sigh when he didn’t answer. “Of course you won’t respond. Why would you start now?”
A sense of foreboding washed over him at her tone. Every other call she was cheerful, excited about school, happy to do all the talking if it meant he kept calling because then at least she knew he was safe- or so she’d said. This call was different, intuition or whatever it was, he could feel it.
What’s the matter, Troublemaker? He silently asked, as if he didn’t know the answer. What can I do to fix it?
Minutes crept by in silence and he wondered if she hung up before she spoke again. “Why won’t you talk to me, Logan? I…” Her breath hitched like she was holding back tears. “I miss you so much and I… I just need to hear your voice. Please?”
He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back against the headrest. Throat tight, he willed himself to speak, to tell her everything he needed to say. But, whether it was the fear of breaking down or of what would happen after, he remained silent, his heart breaking as he listened to her sniffles come through the phone.
“I really hope you’re ok… but I’m not. I’m not ok. At all.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Every day I wake up and wonder if this is the day I find out you’re dead, or locked up, or if I’d even know if you were. If I’d hear from you or not, if you’d talk to me when you called or if I’d be sitting there like an idiot talking to someone who can’t even be bothered to say hi.”
The words tumbled from her lips, getting more and more desperate with each thought she expressed. “I have Ingrid hounding me to go out to pick up guys all the time, this jackass who won’t take no for an answer in my astronomy class, my advisor told me not to take so many credits but I didn’t listen and now if I don’t ace the exam I’m getting a B+ in creative writing. I’m drowning here, Logan. I thought I could handle it but I can’t.”
He longed to hold her as her sniffles turned to sobs. In another life, he could see himself there with her, supporting her, and telling her that yes, she could handle it. Maybe if her plan had worked, they could have handed over the brotherhood to the feds, but without that leverage, he didn’t have a leg to stand on. It was just another fantasy. He belonged right where he was, sitting in a rundown parking lot nine hours away, paying for his past and trying to get by the right way.
“I love you, you idiot! Don’t you know that?” she asked. “I love you so damn much and I don’t care about your past or that you’re on the run or any of it. I care about you, and I know we can face anything as long as we’re together. If you still love me, come to Langston. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, it doesn’t matter. There has to be a way, and I know we can figure it out together. Please, Logan, I need you. I can’t do it without you.”
Her pain was crushing, as was his, wrapping around his chest until it was difficult to breathe. Not wanting her to hear him cry, he clamps his hand over his mouth, inhaling and exhaling hard and fast through his nose.
I can’t do it without you.
She’d said it to him before, once.
He’d left her to save her from a life of heartache and stayed away to do the same. But, with every word, he realized his decision was only going to keep hurting them both. And what would be the point of that? Some convoluted sense of being noble? Some form of self-hatred because he knew he didn’t deserve someone like Ellie?
You deserve everything you want, Logan.
All I want right now is you.
“Of course I still love you, Ellie,” he told her, his voice shaky. “But it’s not that simple, baby.”
Silence met him on the other end.
“Ellie? You there?” he asked.
Pulling the phone from his ear, he stared at the black screen, wet from the tears running down his cheeks. “Damn it,” he grumbled, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat, the battery having run out after his thirteen-hour workday.
He sat staring out the windshield, listening to a distant siren carried on the wind blowing leaves and trash across the pavement. A parade of ideas and complications ran through his mind for a half hour or more, hoping like hell to find a way for them to be together. Every idea led to the same near impossible conclusion. It wasn’t going to be easy and there was an excellent chance it would end badly, but he couldn’t see any other choice. Unlike Ellie, he really couldn’t do it alone.
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Three weeks later found him sitting in his car on a sunny, palm tree-lined street. His heart raced, nausea making his stomach churn as he watched the house across the street, trying to psych himself up to knock on the door. The last time he was here, he had a gun pulled on him and was given ten seconds to leave town. What was to stop the guy from just shooting his ass outright this time? Or locking him up without giving him the chance to explain himself? This might be the dumbest thing he’s ever done.
Now or never, he thought as he watched Wheeler walk through the living room to the kitchen through the picture window. Better to do this now while he’s enjoying his morning coffee than after he straps his Glock .45 into his shoulder holster.
Guess I’ll see where the road takes me.
One last look at a selfie he and Ellie took while laying in his bed was all the assurance he needed. Getting out of the car, he slipped his phone into his back pocket and resisted the urge to jump up and down a few times before walking up to the house he thought he’d never see again.
He took a deep breath and reached up to knock, swallowing down the rising bile in his throat. It took a minute for the door to open, long enough for Logan to worry about his breakfast burrito and orange juice coming up all over the rose bushes Ellie’s mom had planted.
Whatever the detective had in mind for a greeting died on his lips at the sight of Logan. He’d aged in the last few months, his hair less pepper and more salt. His eyes, more wrinkled than the last time Logan saw him, drooped slightly at the corners yet were just as shrewd, calculating the scene in front of him, first across Logan’s face then up and down the street.
“You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that,” he said, crossing his arms against his chest. “But what the hell are you doing on my porch?”
“I know I’m the last person in the world you want to see, Sir,” Logan answered, willing his hands to stay put at his sides. “But I came to ask for your help.”
Detective Wheeler let out a sound between a scoff and a chuckle. “And why would I do that?”
“Because I love your daughter more than anything, Sir, and she loves me. I haven’t seen her since I left that night, haven’t even said a word to her, though I have to admit I’ve called her. I needed to know she was ok.”
Wheeler’s eyes narrowed, his expression turning to stone. “Of course she’s ok. Without you turning her life to shit, she’s fine.”
“She’s not though.” Logan shook his head. “Being apart, it’s killing us both.” Frustrated, he looked away and ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, I’m not stupid, ok? I know I don’t deserve Ellie.” He felt his throat tighten and held back his tears, charging ahead in a last desperate attempt to convince him. “But I want to. I want to be the kind of man she can be proud to be with. I want to be able to give her everything she deserves. I know I can be that man, but I also know I have shit to answer for. If I have even a chance at a future with her, I need to face my past.”
His eyes bore into Logan’s, looking for any sign of bullshit before letting out a sigh. “Spit it out, kid. What are you doing here?”
His next words would determine not just his relationship with Ellie, but the rest of his life as well. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, surprised by how calm he felt.
“I’m here to turn myself in.”
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lovehugsandcandy · 4 years
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Eight Days a Week, Eight Seconds a Kiss (Part 10/Epilogue 2)  (Colt x MC)
A/N: Happy Birthday, Des @ desireepow-1986. Wingman Colt is the story that won’t die! Originally, there were only supposed to be 2 epilogues but I realized I needed another to set up the actual last one so here you go!
Length: ~1600 words
Rating: PG-13 (drunken antics, swearing)
Six Years Later: Pushing Our Luck, Getting Wiped Out
She didn’t step off the curb. She didn’t fall either, because that would have been embarrassing. Instead, the curb moved, warping underneath her foggy eyes, and her feet were already having a hard time on flat pavement anyway, so, when the curb shifted, so did she, falling into Riya as they collapsed together into a pool of limbs and uproarious laughter under the streetlights.
“Oh my God, Ellie!” Riya squirmed under her, and it took a full minute for Ellie to stop laughing and clamber up. “I’m gossiping here.”
She slurred the words. Riya was drunk as she was, so they both had a hard time standing. “I know, I’m sorry, just-the curb jumped!”
“Oh my God.” They linked arms and wandered away from the club, listing as they walked, and Riya continued her story. “So, anyway, my old roommate thought she was dating this guy for a year, a whole freaking year, and it turned out they were in a situationship and he was sleeping with half of Detroit!”
“Oh no- wait, what’s a situationship?”
“Oh, Ellie…” Riya stopped to pull out her phone and check on her ride. “You are so- it’s when a guy doesn’t ask you to be his girlfriend but lets you assume he is while he’s dating other people too.”
“Oh, that sucks. It’s a good thing you don’t have to worry about that; you and Darius have been together forever.”
“I know,” Riya sighed dreamily.
Ellie was looking at her phone, tracking how far away her own ride was, when her heart fell. Colt had never asked her to be his girlfriend. They finally finally kissed and, after that, had been inseparable as she finished senior year; since she moved back to LA after school, it seemed like everything had continued normally, just as it had been before. They spent so much time together that Ellie had assumed that… but what if…? “Riya?” She looked up from her phone in a panic. “Riya, am I in a situationship?”
“What?”
She grabbed Riya’s arm. “Colt never really asked me to be his girlfriend. Not even when I was in high school! Riya, Riya, what if-” 
“But-”
“I mean, he made some vague comment to Toby that we were together but he never really asked…”
“Ellie, I don’t-”
“What if I’m in a situationship?!?” Her wail was cut off as her cell phone vibrated and she realized that they were right next to a gray Ford Focus. Or a Nissan something or other? For someone with a penchant for luxury cars, she had always been awful at differentiating one sedan from another, especially after she and Riya polished off far too many glasses of rosé at their biweekly girl’s nights. And maybe the car was black. Actually, it was so dark that maybe it was maroon, but it didn’t matter anyway because the license plates matched and she had to get in. “I have to go.”
“Ellie, wait-” Riya stuttered, looking up at her with confused eyes.
“Text me when you get home, ok?”
“I will.” 
Ellie shut the door and waved, taking in her best friend’s worried expression, one that she was sure was echoed on her own face. The entire ride home, she picked at her fingernails and panicked. Had he played her for a fool this entire time? When the Dryve finally pulled up in front of the apartment, she stumbled out and up the stairs, legs moving quickly, both the anxiety and desire to outrun the spinning hallways making her hustle.
“Colt?!?” she yelled as she flew through the door, ignoring the crash as she dropped her purse to the floor. She heard everything tumble out, wallet and keys spilling across the room, but ignored it in her shuffle to the bedroom. She would clean it up tomorrow; this was more important. “Colt!”
The door slammed open as she rushed in, skidding to a stop at the foot of the bed.
“What?”
“Colt!” She collapsed, pitching herself forward so she could crawl to his side. He was still half-asleep, eyes dazed as he blinked and hair sticking up in pointed tufts around his face. “Whoa. You look like an anime.”
“What the…?” He pushed up on his elbows, still out of it. “What time is it?”
Her brain started again, and she recalled what she had been thinking as tears spring anew to her eyes. “Colt,” she started and, to her embarrassment, broke into sobs. 
“Hey…” He was awake now, eyes flashing across her face, wild and frantic; he got this expression on his face every time Ellie burst into tears: it was a cross between a desperate need to make it stop and an absolute astonishment that he, he who has hatched plans to steal cars and kill cops and a million other precise schemes, that he, of all people, cannot immediately conjure a plan that will soothe whatever ails her. That look was on his face as he realized that she was rapidly becoming a sobbing mess.
“Colt---” she hiccuped and words were painful through her dry, worried throat. “Are we in a situationship?”
“What?” He shifted closer so he could reach her, fingers gentle as they slid down her arm. “Are you ok?”
“Are we-” She had to wipe her cheeks; moisture was blurring his face, turning him into a mirage, twisting and turning on the bed in front of her. Was he moving or was it the wine? “Are we in a situationship?”
“What in the world is a…are you drunk?!?”
“No.” She hiccuped again and then burst into hysterics. “It’s just that Riya was talking about this girl from school and she thought she was dating someone but then we tripped over the curb and I might have left my phone in the Dryve.”
He said nothing at first, only gaped at her before hesitantly speaking. “I think you should-”
“Are we in a situationship?!? Why won’t you answer me!!!”
“What the hell is a situationship?”
“It’s when you think you’re in a relationship but it’s actually not, you’re just hooking up with me and I’m not actually your girlfriend.”
“Ellie, for Christ’s sake…” he muttered.
“You never asked me to be your girlfriend!”
“Ellie, we live together.”
Her wail got caught in her throat, and her shoulders dropped as she peers at him. “Oh.” He had a point. “But you never asked-”
“Ellie.” He cradled her cheeks with both hands. “You smell like you fell in a vat of rosé and drank your way out. You’re drunk. You’re drunk as fuck and you’re not gonna remember this conversation tomorrow. And that’s the only reason I’m gonna tell you this.”
“Tell me what?”
“I’m not gonna ask you to be my girlfriend.”
“You’re not?” Her heart broke; she could hear the shattering sound in her chest and, if her limbs weren’t so heavy, she would walk out the door of their apartment and head straight to Riya’s where she could self-medicate her mortification with even more rosé and her best friend.
“No. I’m gonna ask you to be my wife.”
Her mouth fell open, and she had to sniff back even more tears. “You are?”
“Uh huh.”
“Like right now?”
“Dear God, not right now,” he chuckled. “You wouldn’t remember, anyway.”
“But like…” Her body wasn’t working; she could think of words, lots of them, but they were failing to make their way to her mouth. “You’re gonna...wait. Do you have a ring?”
He only smirked. “If I gave it to you now, you’d lose it.”
“Colt?”
“Yeah?”
She sat back on her heels to study him, and even that simple movement made the room spin. “We’re not in a situationship, are we?”
“No, Ellie. No, we’re not.”
“Oh.”
“Can we please go to sleep now?”
She nodded, subdued and mollified, breaking into a dumb smile aided by the copious amount of alcohol in her veins. “Ok.” She watched him settle into bed before she headed to the bathroom, hands shaky, dragging on her pajamas over leaden feet. And even though she walked into her bureau, she couldn’t stop the smile from splitting her face.
She had just slid next to him, sheets cool on her overheated skin, when the alcohol compeled her to speak again. “You wanna marry me…”
“I can’t really tell you why at this very second.”
“It’s cuz you loooove me.”
“I would love you a lot more if you just let me sleep.”
She settled her head on the pillow and giggled, bright and happy in the darkness of their bedroom.
“Ellie!”
“Sorry, sorry.” She made it five seconds before the giggles started again, her drunken happiness making her way through her warm cheeks.
“Ellie!” He rolled over to glare at her, but the smile tugging at the corner of his lips rendered the effort at intimidation ineffective.
“You love me!”
He rolled his eyes but responded to her baiting, anyway. “Yes. Yes, I love you.”
“Even when I’m drunk.”
“Even when you’re drunk.” 
“Even when I think we’re in a situationship.”
“Even when you make up terms for scenarios that make no sense,” he murmured with a shake of his head.
“Even when I tear apart this apartment looking for the ring.”
“Even- wait, what?”
She smiled, burrowing into his arms. “Imma find it.”
“You won’t.”
“I will.” She was warm, content, eyes slowly opening and closing against his chest. “I will. I swear.”
But, despite her fervent promises, the only thing she remembered when she woke up the next morning, through her throbbing head and roiling stomach, was that she felt very, very loved.
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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years
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DBH - The 12 Pains of Christmas
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Summary: The typical seasonal hassles cause a few issues for Leo and Co. as he helps the four leaders of Jericho prepare for a Christmas party Carl is hosting. Somehow it all works out in the end.
[The 12 Pains of Christmas will forever be my favourite parody song, and it perfectly describes the nuances of the jolliest holiday. What better way to have some fun but to torment a few of my favorite characters,plus a few OCs? Merry Christmas everyone]
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[[MORE]]
     It was supposed to be everyone's first proper Christmas together, after androids had finally acquired their freedom and rights as an intelligent and civilized species. 
By all means it should be the highlight of their arduous year that had been full of tormenting perils and hours upon hours of slaving away behind a desk, agoning over paperwork and conferences. The key words here being 'It Should Be'.
Carl had good intentions inviting all of them to spend the holidays together to celebrate, and Leo knew his father had everyone's good interests in mind with all the hassle he went through to reach out and extend his gracious hospitality (with some mixed results due to a few political disagreements he had with his family)… The problem wasn't even the idea of a party. It was the goddamn holiday season itself…
Christmas, as it turned out, had a way of getting people to act up in the worst way possible. It was just one of those holidays that really made it easier to be a dick to people, which was a little ironic considering it was supposed to be the holly jolly, merry little season of gift giving and family bonding times.
Which was why he currently found himself trying to mediate an argument between two frustrated androids, over the best option of Christmas tree available. How freaking 'joyous', ending up as Markus's and Simon's seasonal middleman...
  "Think of all the harm that plastic tree will cause once we have to get rid of it!" Markus crossed his arms and glared daggers at the offending faux pine Simon was currently hugging closely to himself. The blond looked positively ridiculous holding on to the largest plastic tree he could find, while also looking incredibly offended at the RK200's opinion on his choice.
  "I'm not just going to toss it after the holidays! We can reuse it next year, and the year after that!" Simon cried out, indignated with such an idea as throwing out a perfectly good hunk of plastic bristles. "Besides, I'd rather decorate a physical tree instead of a holographic display!"
  "There's no space in the attic for that tissled abomination, and a holo tree would be more efficient and easier to put away afterwards!" Markus defended, holding the compact machine as if it were the most precious thing on this side of Earth. "And we can customize the ornaments to our own taste!"
  "I'd rather die than give up tradition! We're not leaving Carl's ornaments to rot in a box!" The PL600 was furious at such blasphemous insinuations.
Leo merely rolled his eyes and sighed. This had been going on for a while now and he doubted it'd be over anytime soon. The two were too stubborn to give up.
The brunet turned his back to them before taking his phone out of his pocket when he felt it vibrate.
Looking at the screen, he saw that it was Josh who was calling, likely to see what was taking so long. Hopefully things were less stressful on his end.
  "Ok, you two assholes fight some more about the tree while I go get this and end up being more productive..." He moved towards the store door, nodding politely at the poor android watching helplessly from the counter.
Neither Markus nor Simon seemed to have noticed his departure. Not that he cared much. They shouldn't be his problem in the first place.
Once outside (and blissfully alone), Leo picked up the call.
  "Hey Josh. You done with the lights?" The human greeted as he leaned against the closest street lamp. The bitter cold was biting at his fingers uncomfortably so he put his free hand in his pocket and hoped the wind wouldn't pick up too much. Winter in Detroit was not very pleasant at times, and downright sucky if you forgot your damn gloves like he had.
  "Not yet. Miles and Matthew just helped me pick up the last box from the attic. We're trying to decide how we're going to decorate outside." Leo could hear humming from Josh's end, likely Miles as he looked through the boxes at all the soon to be shiny lights. "You guys picked a tree yet?"
  "Markus and Simon are arguing over what type to get, so nope." Leo glanced back at the shop window. Yep still going at it. The shop android looked miserable as they watched the spectacle.
  "Really? It's been an hour…"
  "Well, this is just one of the mystical twelve pains of Christmas." Leo shrugged dismissively. "The first one is always finding a tree..."
  "Twelve pains of Christmas?" Josh sounded a little confused, before Miles cheerfully told him it was a song.
  "Yep, parody song. Ancient but pretty good." Leo smiled, glancing back at the store occasionally to make sure everything was still under control. "Dad has it, on like, a playlist. That and a few others, but that's definitely my favourite one."
  "Well, if finding the tree is the first pain, what's the second one then?" Josh asked out of curiosity. Leo could hear boxes being shuffled about. Josh was likely opening them up as well.
  "Rigging up the lights, of course!" Leo smirked, being able to almost see the realization on the lecturer's face when he was met with brief silence.
  "Is that why you asked to go with Simon and Markus when Carl asked you to help out with the Christmas lights?" Yep, he definitely had that pouty expression he bore whenever Josh felt like he'd been tricked.
  "Look dude, I haven't had to deal with tangled headphones since I was a kid. There's no way in hell I'm dealing with tangled lights."
  "Yet you're willing to deal with being the middleman in an argument over which decorative tree is the best?" Josh sounded pretty incredulous at Leo's choice for avoiding the task. Honestly it was a sacrifice he was willing to make if it meant escaping knotted cable hell.
  "Yes when both parties involved don't ask for an opinion. They're both so stubborn even the cashier looks like they wished they had the Hanukkah shift instead." Leo's gaze returned to the store where Simon and Markus had now acquired a bit of an audience.
It was probably about time he broke them up properly and bought a tree himself. "God, wherever Markus goes he just has to stick out like a sore thumb…"
There was a startled shriek on the other side of the line, which startled Leo enough to lose focus on the storefront and the growing crowd.
  "Oh damn...Hold that thought Leo, Miles got his arm tangled up in some of the lights. I need to go help him out." Josh changed the topic, clearly distracted with whatever shenanigans the prototype android had gotten to in the background "Just, try to get them to compromise and get all of you and the tree back before 18:00 pm."
  "Aye-aye captain. You go rescue Miles from the decorations."
The call came to an end with a monotone click and Leo crept back inside, skirting around the argument and heading for the isles.
If Markus wanted something more environment friendly, and Simon wanted tradition, he was going to give them both plus a good hearty laught out of it…
He was good at compromising and being petty while doing it.
---
     The car ride to Val's and Artyum's apartment was spent in silent fury, annoyed bafflement, and a great big grin upon Leo's face.
From the back seat Markus sighed. The look of defeat partly the reason behind Leo's contented shit-eating grin. He loved winning against his younger brother even if just in the littlest things. It felt more rewarding to be occasionally right.
  "I'm all for biodegradable options Leo...And really I should have gone for that instead of the holotree if we wanted everyone to be happy but…" Markus peered out the window at the "leaves" that were hitting the window, annoyance that was steadily growing into irritation. "...Why the hell did you buy a palm tree?!"
  "Because you're both assholes for taking up so much time arguing over a stupid tree, and because dad's probably gonna piss himself laughing when he sees it." Leo leaned back in the driver's seat, letting the autonomous car crawl at a snail's pace in the crowded snowy road. The rearview mirror showed the expressions of the people in other cars. All looking more shocked and amused at the fake palm tree carefully pinned to the roof of the car for easy and safe transport.
They seemed somewhat appreciative of Leo's sense of humor, so the brunet didn't feel particularly inclined to yell at them to mind their own business in a few more colorful words.
Probably for the best as they all waited in traffic, since the snow sweepers clearing out the piled up snow in front of them was likely to take a while...
  "Couldn't you have at least picked a less stupid looking tree?" Simon bitterly glanced at the back windows. The pout on his face made it look like the faux greenery alone was an offense to him and all that he stood for. "We can't exactly decorate a palm tree like we would a pine tree…"
  "Why the hell not? It's big enough to fit all the crud my dad saved over the years." Leo asked as he glanced over at his right to look at the blond. "The top is nice and smooth so the tree topper won't just fall off, and we could even wrap a ton of the lights around the trunk since it's nice and long. We'd still have enough to light up the fence walls."
  "So basically you want to string up a palm tree in festive ornaments and bright lights, like a sideroad bar you see in concert festivals…?" Simon didn't seem all too pleased with this idea. The way he made it sound was definitely less cool than a festival sideroad bar.
  "Would you rather I hadn't bothered picking a tree at all? Next year we'll just decorate the fucking giraffe then…" Leo decided that on Christmas everyone was a damn critic.
No matter, as soon as the road cleared out the three didn't take long to reach the apartment complex where both of the brunet's friends lived.
They were already outside waiting, with Artyum carrying a large bag and a ton of wrapped presents that the two had likely spent the day making nice and pretty. The group quickly noticed that Val looked to be slughtly under the weather (if the look of pure hatred on her face was anything to go by).
  "What's up Sourface?" Leo grinned as he rolled down the window.
  "Fuck off Manfred, my head's killing me and I fucking hate how bright it is out here." The younger Latina growled irritably as she hurriedly climbed into the back seat next to Markus with Artyum following close behind after putting the gifts in the trunk, the bag remaining in his possession.
  "Do not bother with her today. She has massive hangover from "sampling" some of drinks I bought yesterday." The Russian informed the trio while putting on his seatbelt. "None which survived for party."
  "Getting shit-faced alone on Christmas Eve? That's a new low for you, Val." Leo snorted. "What's with the bag?"
  "Postcards. For family." Artyum shrugged "That is something I forgot to ask. Can we stop quickly by mail place so I can send them?"
  "You send your family postcards? Really?" Leo raised an eyebrow. "We're in the 2030s Art. You could just...I donno… call them?"
  "Or send an email." Markus added.
  "It is family tradition!" Artyum sounded genuinely appalled.
  "Finally someone who understands!" Simon smiled at the larger man, appreciative of his devotion to some of the older ways. Christmas just wasn't Christmas without a physical tree, caroling, cards and eggnog. Why couldn't more people get that?
  "Artyum has a massive family tho, those are going to be some expensive post office bills…"
  "I'll manage. Worst was writing damn things in first place. I find that English has been coming to mind more often...Puns are hard to resist but also hard for non-english speakers to appreciate…" the Russian sighed sadly at the loss of opportunity to employ his acquired skills at weaving words into funny sentences.
  "Oh my god can we just go? I need a fucking aspirin!" Val whined, pulling her scarf over her face to escape the assault on her sensitive senses. Snow blindness was not something she wanted to be submitted to.
  "Fuck, this really is like the damn song… can't wait for number five on the list of how crap this holiday is." Leo groaned.
  "You're looking forward to five months of consecutive bills?" Markus snorted "You're unemployed."
  "You know what I meant… Dad fucking loves that song and I know you played it every year for him since Kamski sent you to care for him." The human shot Markus a dirty look.
  "I personally prefer 'Wreck the Halls'. It's got more of a beat." The RK200 grinned.
  "Fuck off."
Once everyone settled, off they drove to the post office. Now that there weren't any snow sweepers slowing down traffic the ride went more smoothly. Until a massive line ruined the mood considerably.
  "Ok yeah I can see the parallels of our current situation with the song..." Markus gave them all a long-suffering groan as the group ended up in said massive line at the post office, behind a couple who was currently arguing over their impending meet up with their in-laws for dinner.
  "Told you. That song speaks of the essence of this shitshow of a holiday. It's just a hassle all around if you take off the pink-tinted shades."
  "That's not how that saying goes, but yes." Simon checked his internal clock. Josh was going to be upset if they came in too late. "Christmas is a very hectic time of year, and a little overrated. I rarely got to celebrate it, and most of what I know are pleasant stories of functional families actually sharing the good little moments…"
  "Is that why you're so enamored with the traditional aspect?" Markus questioned, which the blond merely nodded along to.
Enough said of that then. The story behind Simon's escapism tactics was never a good one. That they knew by now.
  "Artie why couldn't you send these off earlier? This place is crowded!" Val grimaced as the crowd seemed to get just as agitated over the argument going on in the background.
  "Was also crowded earlier..." Artyum sighed.
The couple in front of them got louder.
  "Oh god could this get any worse?" Leo put his face in his hands.
  "Excuse me sir do you have time to donate a dollar to the cause?"
  "Oh my fucking god it can." Val punched the brunet on the arm. "The fucking Salvation Army is here."
  "Fucking shit!"
---
     After forty minutes of pure hell at the post office, the group finally got to the counter and thanked the gods that it didn't take long to sort the paperwork involved with sending off an entire bag of postcards.
They practically ran back to their car, avoiding the various parents dragging screaming children that were demanding this or that as the perfect gifts.
Next destination: Manfred household.
A drive that took less than an hour.
Except…
  "OH MY GOD THERE IS NOWHERE TO PARK THE FUCKING CAR, ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"
     It was well past 18:00 pm when they finally found an available parking space, and the effort of hawling the tree along was less of a minor inconvenience and more of an annoyance to add to the list since they had to climb uphill rather than simply take it from one end of the road to the next.
  "I have never seen so many cars on this street." Leo remarked as he steadied the base of the tree as they walked along.
  "That's because you've never actually spent the holidays over." Markus replied nonchalantly. "It was always a pain in the neck if shopping required an autonomous cab… There just wasn't ever a place to stop close enough that I didn't need about five trips to and fro just to get the all of the bags."
The gate opened up for them without much fuss and the group noticed North retreating out of the house looking absolutely pissed.
  "Where the hell have you been?!" She met with them, eyeing the odd choice of a tree briefly before staring accusingly at Leo. "We called! Repeatedly!"
  "Battery died."
  "And we also called you both." She pointed at both androids.
  "We were a little distracted." Simon admitted.
  "With what?!" North glared.
  "Marital problems at the post office, and an army of kids screaming because they wanted whatever is hot with the kids these days." Simon sighed "It's a long story…"
The redhead groaned before holding up the TV remote, much to the confusion of everyone else.
  "Well then, you're on remote duty. The batteries died and Matthew forgot to buy more... And if I browse through any more of those shitty stale tv specials I swear to God I'll blow up Stratford tower."
  "Please do." Leo grimaced. "Everyone else arrived yet?"
  "Yeah, but they're kind of busy right now…"
  "With what?" Markus asked.
Ten seconds later they all stood baffled, staring up at the chandelier.
Well at the entire living room, the stairs, hallways and even the kitchen actually…
  "How the hell did you manage this?!" Leo gawked as he watched Josh struggling to get free from the Christmas lights he'd gotten horrendously tangled in.
  "Miles got stuck and panicked...The rest kind of happened before we could control the situation…" the lecturer looked absolutely embarrassed as he hung in the hair just a little bellow said prototype.
  "To make matters worse, Miles can run like no other android in this freaking house…" Benji retorted as he tried to free his constricted arm, which was pinned by the chords that had wrapped around the giraffe's legs when the RK-series prototype had gone berserk.
  "That's Miles for ya. Problem solving is an experimental process." Tristan was stuck to a wall. He didn't seem too fussed over this. "If hitting it and running doesn't work, he'll stop to contemplate it for a bit. Not that it'd help now of course."
  "Sorry…" In the RK300's defense, he did look a little guilty over causing so much trouble. "I ruined Christmas..."
"I'll just...Go get a ladder." Markus walked off while Simon gave Miles a sympathetic look.
"You didn't ruin Christmas buddy." The blond caretaker reassured. "You got a little stuck, is all, and the house will probably look good once we actually turn on the lights."
"You really mean it?" The RK300 blinked in confusion, looking around before humming and then nodding "They'll blink unsynchronized... Might make more colors..."
"Yep. We might get orange lights this year. Pretty cool Miles!" Tristan smiled appreciatively at Simon, mouthing a silent 'Thanks' while Markus returned with the ladder.
"While Markus deals with that, I should get started on the baking. Then Leo can help rig the rest of the lights." Simon stated, ignoring the look of horror on the brunet's face.
"Baking equals good smells and pretty shapes. You can go bake Simon!" Miles smiled more genuinely as he kicked his legs about, narrowly avoiding hitting Josh on the head. "Sorry."
"I'm good."
"Not until I get you down you're not." Markus quickly got to work freeing the two of them, while Artyum helped Tristan and Benji down from their own prisons.
---
By 20:00 pm, all of the decorations were set up, lights properly rigged, food and sweets cooked and baked, and guests arrived. Despite the hectic confusing day, the party turned out alright.
All around friends and extended family talked, laughed, enjoy Simon's splendid cooking and Carl's family eggnog recipe, and gifts were exchanged without incident.
Leo looked all around and sighed contentedly as he rested on the couch, enjoying the buzz of conversations going on in the background.
His eyelids drooped as he watched humans and androids alike relishing in the enjoyments that followed the usual inconveniences of Christmas.
There was no good without a bit of bad. If anything, all the stuff they'd gone through just to get everything nice and ready made it more rewarding.
The brunet nodded off peacefully... Only to wake up when the caroling began.
"Oh my god..." Leo put his pillow over his head and mentally screamed.
Fine. Almost worth it. Fucking Christmas carolers ruining everything. They were almost as bad as the Salvation Army!
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deviationdivine · 5 years
Text
My Desecrated Love (machine!Connor x Reader)
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TLDR: In the heart of the battlefield you will not accept the fate of this profane love...
Word Count: 4.5K Follower!Celebration
TW: Angst (Heavy-Suicide), Android Gore, Language, Smut (Heavy), Violence 
A/N: !100 Follower Celebration!: While my poll is open I still wanted to write up something to celebrate the milestone for you guys. I’ve had an influx of more followers since I announced the celebration so I feel it’s the right time to post! This went off the rails into some serious territory so please if you are uncomfortable with any trigger listed skip over loves. I’m not big on the machine!Connor path but I’ve been sucked into my angsty headcanons for him. Thanks to you loves for following, requesting, commenting and being precious beans. 
You let me desecrate you
Ferocious. Devouring. Endless.
Machines do not die or so he told you. Does a lie reveal fallacy? Can it show truth denied so vehemently? 
He denied. Deviancy, feeling and love all parts to a whole that somehow he tears away by choice. Choice itself paints him deviant by heart but not this one. Never will this harbinger of decay spreading his plague over revolution shun mission for emotion.  Still it did not cease this communion of flesh. 
Siphoning life from your body that he takes on willing pleas cast out luscious, sinfully aware you are nothing. To him you are just a means. One that loves him all the same but he does not love. He chooses not to in order to unleash chaos. 
A man-made monster all wire and metallic. You love his unnatural existence. Unnatural as all androids deemed by their creators but Connor is beyond. He is the night shade that poisons your heart.
An all too willing bride to a heinous creation built to destroy all he touches. The moment you saw him should have been enough to know. He marked you from the start.
Never have you felt so close to heaven. In his eyes seemingly soft but all part of programming engineered by Cyberlife.
RK800 most advanced equipped with latest technologies. Programmed to be sociable, to gain camaraderie, integration in the most efficient way possible and he slithered into your soul.
RK800 is a machine not a man at all. Oh but what a man. What a glorious image of the perfect God who lays waste to sinners. He lays waste to deviants. His own kind he will do anything to destroy. 
Not once does he die. Not once does he succumb to failure. Each step casts his shadow like a reaper stretching bony fingers out for a touch of extermination.
That touch burns acidic but you love his astringency. Bitter to taste, salivating in want of his sour tongue. He is raging, dominant and yours. Foolish to think he truly is when he is Mephistopheles incarnate. Deal with the devil calls a deal to your death.
Weaponry is his scythe. Cyberlife jacket flapping in the wind is his cloak.
Can a person really love a monster? Yes.
Can a person love death itself? Yes.
Just ask Persephone.
Connor is god of the real underworld of Detroit. Filled with filthy red ice dealers, insane deviants who kill their masters; Connor is death riding on a pale horse. And you love death with all of your heart. If only he were alive. If only he became alive instead of making you suffer this love. 
Oh, how much you suffer. Oh, how gladly you do. For this cruel, violating, unholy love that should not exist but it does exist eternally.  
If he were flesh and bone his tendrils would hang listlessly, pouring scarlet into white. If he were of warm blood he would bleed a puddle of crimson horror. Throat torn apart in vocal chords, internal matter and cells that make up a human’s DNA. If he were not machine life would run cherry rich, staining frost even as it ends.
He is not human. He bleeds blue twilight as the hour itself shades in endless sky.
Bodies lay to waste. Snow flutters a chilly dust. Continuously flakes fall in a frigid blanket over an impromptu graveyard. Dead deviants strewn across field of ice left where they lost their last artificial breath. Center of it all a most sacrilegious figure. Sprawled out like a king struck down before his time, great majesty torn asunder and there he resides.
He is a statue eyes raised to night sky. Floundering amid this Detroit air crisp and still scented with gunfire this is a battlefield. It is a glorious frontier laid to waste. Wars are fought not won. They are casualty and blood. There is no victory. No one returns from the front unscathed. Not even your vicious carnage that you long to feel.
Silence permeates casting a shroud on this night of revolution. One terror is felled despite a sure fall of android revolution.
“Connor!”
Your scream penetrates stillness creating its own rage. Breaking open the sky itself unleashes hellfire on all that stands in the way of this unhealthy, terrifying love. Anguish obliterates whatever pieces are still left. Knees crash beside his body. Lying in irreverential crucifixion, arms displayed towards desecrated heavens. A beast brought down when he can never be tamed.
Crawling up his chest brings tear stains in drops. Falling in a torrent they clash with thirium staining grotesquely from his severed throat. Washing away is not enough. Internal circuitry sparks a final dying ember of red. Carnage that bled from his lips, ones that feast, connects brutally with yours. 
Instead they stain blue in splotchy abstracts highlighted against visible white plastic. Partially his skin is deactivated up to bottom lip.
Impact of the blow fiercely damaged his synthetic layer. Shutting it off where his throat was mechanically slit.
Even smearing thirium all over your hands clutching at his head, your lips still meet atop his. The first gentle kiss that ever passed between mortal and almighty. Thirium glistens on your chin after pulling away. You do not wipe it away. It is from him. You want him to remain.
Inside you he still digs deep. Nothing will destroy this. No one will take your Connor from you. No one on this god’s green earth!
Throwing your head back to unleash this devastating scream unmakes the last vestiges of life. Hollowness is core. Scream bellow the torment still no one will hear. Lost you are lost without your one desire even as he remains machine.
Through blurry vision you find his gun. Lying amid snow where he fell. So close but far from his hand.
Stretching fingers out for the weapon brings it close to cradle. Nurturing his method of execution you stroke the barrel. Checking the rounds there are two bullets. Two as there are two lovers amid warfare.
“Footprints,” a hoarse whisper grazes your throat. Raw from releasing this agony but you ignore. Staring where you picked up the gun they are clearly printed. They travel. Thirium travels along with them. Thirium not spilled from Connor.
Peering across the expanse of android death there is but one place. A Cyberlife Store…
The rest is of no use or matter. None of them matter lying here. Only he does!
Collateral damage is scenery to your reunion. Death is your honeymoon.
You stroke his hair. Loving how those soft strands always felt tangled and pulled through fingers. He may lie dead but that is fine. You will meet this death with him.
A smile graces divinely. In his presence you feel as if worshiped by a god. Oh, how close he took you. So close. The nozzle of gun shifts. Pressing lips along the barrel you can almost kiss him.
You get me closer to god
“Connor!” 
Your voice cuts the air. Musty, alive as you thrive in soft red glowing from both his temple and neon lights glazing outside hotel window. Seedy underbelly of Detroit tucked away in sleazy notes. The room itself becomes a haven of sexual energies. Both live wires in completely different ways and he flicks tongue like a forked demon.
Circling your nipple, the android shifts above, plunging into soft warmth. Your arms force down in a vice underneath his hand. Holding them above your head caging as he fucks you the way you pled with him before shedding clothes. Swiping them off your body, Connor threw you indelicately. In a heap you fell to bed and he, the primal predatory, pounced upon weak flesh.
Edging fingers between your legs until sputtering in tears he watched it with a sadistic fascination. How wanton human beings become at the anticipation of receiving a good fuck.
Your orgasm over his fingers did not satisfy. Craving him inside of you, he obliges out of a silent pleasure. One he will not readily succumb to in deviancy. Nothing yields in his programming. This is simply a means.
Cyberlife’s upgrades enable Connor to soil you for his own means. He snaps baring teeth.
“Please, please!”
Whimpering your need for him only casts you down. This is something you know will not change him. Yet you still want his fire to spread through veins. Raining down an inferno burns to ash and snuffs your existence. A pale volcanic eruption bathing lava; you incinerate.
The pain of his grip starts a tingle in your fingers. Cutting circulation he decides using bare hands instead of his tie this time. Tied up, held down and battered you do not care. As long as Connor is yours again why would you care about anything?
You huff when he releases wrists. An immediate flood of blood returns to extremities. He is not finished with you.
Pulling your body upright sinks you further onto his length. A gasp spills deliciously as you grab onto him. A work of art to cling onto, lips close to his but you do not kiss him. Last time he left several days. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. He used it against you as punishment. 
Sweetly you crave to cradle his face into hands. Instead you grip the back of his head. Tugging those beautiful coffee color strands all yours in this heady atmosphere.
Digging fingers nape of neck yanks your head down forcefully. Meeting his vile heat burning a hole center of soul. You sacrifice yours willingly. All for him, always and forever he is your terrifying prince.
“I want to fuck you like an animal,” the machine growls against your pulse.
Teeth clamp mercilessly marking flesh in a target to his dominating destruction. Pain is ceremonial to a human heart given to a mechanical devil.
Oh. Oh! “Connor, yes, please.”
A snarl rips from his muscled chest. Throwing you over, he rears your hips up.
Crying out to his vicious thrusts only gives him satisfaction. As much as he will deny this pleasure it is in his eyes. Scanning over your movements, shattering your entirety as you beg, beg, beg into wee hours. Beg for rock hard beauty between your legs. His waist pivots pale, dusted all over his trim torso in freckles. Starry imperfections littering aesthetically across smooth skin stretching over a plastic frame.
Itching to touch him, run the tip of your tongue up center of chest. Dragging down in a wet trail to the plane of his abdomen, only when you cry out in streaming tears will he allow it. Shedding respectability is a small sacrifice. There are far greater ones.
Fingers squeeze around onto your neck adding a sting to various bites, teeth marks imprinting fragility. Tender skin trembles under touch of a vile, majestic lover. He is all things sharp and jagged. A pale shark slices its fin through ocean. Your body is a sea. He is the tidal surge, devastating tsunami washing away your shores.
Rolling your head back does nothing to stop the sway. Your entire body moves under the powerful rhythm of his hips slamming against your ass. Jolting you forward, face falling into covers bunched and torn from mattress you bite down. Muffling sweet moans surrendering to this bliss twisting your insides and still he continues.
Androids do not tire. They last way longer than humans in everything. Connor proves this each time he fucks you senseless.
You arch further up for him with no shame. All you want is the sweet snap to flood.
He said he wanted to fuck you like an animal. Pushed down from all fours, rendered helpless that’s exactly how you feel. You feel like a little creature caught in a trap. It’s so good.
“Connn….” Slurring his name gets you drunk on his love.
Feeling his hand crawl up back and rest onto the crook of neck you shiver. A touch far too gentle warns you. He pulls you up from the face first push.
Your back collides with his chest as he holds you in place. Forcing your knees to edge of bed, arm tightening across your heaving chest and the android’s fingers lock onto throat. Adding a little bit of pressure makes you see stars. 
Dizzying fireworks going off in a personal sky drenched in sweat, cum and tears. Such wonderful tears shed for your android lover who is neither of love or sweetness. He is not made for love as he repeats huskily each time.
Always you find yourselves coming back to this motel. Always you find ways to ravage one another. You can only weep for his beauty, prowess. And once more he makes your dams flood.
“Connor, I want-”
“You are gravely mistaken, Pet.” Spewing his little name for you as he zips jeans leaves the android unemotional. “If you believe your wants come before my mission.”
Shaking a head is the last ounce of dignity left. Who can you fool with this thinking? Already it is gone because he obliterates everything in his path. He obliterated you. Leaving you panting, sore and damned after he fucked you so raw.
His love hurts. His love kills. This is hurt you crave. Opening worlds never once thought to exist. Violent delights are his. Accepting this is the most horrific mistake you will make in life. 
He is no mistake. He is made into this despicable world. Sometimes you wonder what could be different if he was born instead. Besides being human? No, Connor is special. None can take his place, none can ever strive to be him. This is what you love. This is most assuredly what will be your end.   
Must you die to be part of him? If yes then so be it. 
Dragging up off the bed leaves you stumbling. Legs never function properly after a nightly session with him. Each time he becomes fiercer, leaving more marks on your skin. Those are marks you plead for. 
All you need is to be defiled by him. He took away more than innocence. This devil android owns a contract on your eternal soul. If an option presented itself to release it from his cold, ruthless hands you would refuse. 
Whatever this is, whatever comes the two of you are bound. Nothing will take it back. Only he can make that choice. 
“Connor,” you whisper raspy. “I-I just want to kiss you before you go. Please.” 
The machine drags shirt over shoulders. Buttoning white fabric he stares you down.
A visible shiver ghosts skin. You know this is what he is. Luring to a secluded place to give you what you want. Sometimes he lets slip a groan louder than intended. Brief moments Connor’s eyes glaze over coating chocolate in caramel. His body shudders in luxurious connection but quickly he steels his actions.
Part of you hopes to worm your way inside circuits. You want him to say he loves you. If there is one wish in this hellish world it is to be his forever. Any which way he wants and nothing will stop you from obeying.
Biting a lip at him now reveals weakness. For him it is all you have.
His body shifts fluid and catlike, circling like fresh meat to sink claws. Gripping into the plush of your hips tugs you against his hard chest. Immediately you melt candle wax to his flame.
Ravaging your lips with teeth all bite and canines. Swollen from sucking them as you fucked, Connor groans at the swivel of your hips. 
Grinding into him sets stress levels ablaze. Warning sirens going off locked with your supple movements. They catch the machine off guard. How desperate you are to change him but for once he allows you this.
Slipping tongue lets him taste. Just as he lavished your clit he devours moist saliva mingling with artificial. The tang does not draw your equally greedy kiss away. Something snaps making him further ravenous for you this evening.
“I love you,” you whine in a muffle, his tongue still probing.
 ^Software Instability
 Connor wrenches backwards. Wide eyes swivel over you running analysis and self diagnostics on his system. Red blares indicator in a shudder much unlike throes of passion making you surrender to him. Separating in an expeditious blink, he turns away to fasten tie around collar.
“Connor?”
Never have you seen such a look on his face. It almost resembled fear. No, he’s not afraid of anything. He is a walking fear. Everyone surrounding him is dust.
He no longer looks at you. Fully returning into pristine Cyberlife issued jacket, glowing and dazzling with android printed across his broad back and it is the last stitch.
Even as he tears out of room seemingly leaving you to crumble there is no fall. Somehow you know he will always come back. Once again to claim the pathetic human who seals their self to his treacherous love. Of that you will never be ashamed.
You let me complicate you
“Please! Please don’t let him kill us!”
Heart wrenching and human they cry out. They reach for salvation assuming you will give it to them. Naively hoping you can control him. Even if you wished to there is no stopping an avenger of death.
Flinching at the sickening burst of gun exploding a painting of thirium across wall you somehow cannot tear away. Knowing he will find it weak but you surprise yourself with how easy it is to watch. 
The female deviant slumps dead to the world. Back of head blown out in wires and circuitry dangles as tendrils slithering out open cavity in escape. There is no more escape. There is only nothingness.
The android straightens shoulders back. Fixing his tie casually sends an added shiver down your spine.
He tilts his head flaring nostrils. Moving steady, bold and direct he tosses emptied handgun to floor.
“Con…”
Connor pulls you flush in a rough swoop of his arm. Plastering together chest to chest and he kisses you with blood on his face. Smearing azure onto your skin does not disengage. You return hungrily whimpering into the mouth of your master. He is not the one who obeys. He is the one who commands. 
A snap of fingers twist the thrall. Long, beautiful and pliant they slide past panties, slipping into your heat among grisly slaughter. A whine gives away how good digits feel. Cool, mechanical but so lively with synthetics operating by choice. This choice makes you crave among the dead.
He swipes fingertips in a flick dragging them up from between your legs. His eyes darken watching minute expressions as he licks. Tasting arousal, perfume sweet enough to halt his next task. Obliterating those deviants Connor decides for once to follow urges.
The android thumps you against wall. It takes all of your strength not to fall down on knees at his mercy. To unzip his jeans and take his perfection into your mouth; you shiver from cold sweeping around your lower half. 
Already pulling down bottoms, you throw arms around his tall figure to encourage these actions. Actions that make you just as vile as his cold machine heart and you allow Connor to fuck into you in presence of a made family of deviants.
All felled by the great beast. A hunter, he preys on more than defective androids. He preys on the innocence of a human mistakenly in love. No longer do you possess such virtue. The monster you love more than your own existence corrupts every last thread.
“C-Con!” Choking on your whines offers zero mercy. He shoves you hard into the surface snapping hips to bury deep until you no longer can cleanse him. Erasing him will only come with cessation of life. Feeling you from the inside so snug, warm and belonging to him. An android who claims a human and it gives the machine dominion even among his masters.
Connor’s hand snakes towards your face. Curving the length of his thumb under your chin forces your head sideways.
“Look at them, Y/N,” he hisses dangerous. “You let them die. Yet you hardly care as long as I fuck you the way you crave. Is that not correct…carrion heart?”
A morsel to feast upon dead and decaying is what you are. You trickle into his system. Attempting to spread disease but he will devour the very heart of you before you turn him!
“Y-yes! Con…! Please.”
“Louder.” The android snaps into you. “Say it louder, Y/N.”
“I-I want you to fuck me!”
“Good,” Connor praises in rarity. “Then I shall fuck you, Y/N. I shall fuck you in the sanctuary of these deviants you so love. Ones that you wish for me to join.” Harsh mockery taints his tongue before gliding up the base of your throat. “How much have I already changed you, Pet?”
Unable to answer as he ravages, your eyes glaze over, holding tightly to the threads of his jacket. His voice echoes a nightmare fuel.
How much have you changed? To simply stand idle and let him murder androids when you always thought they were alive?
My whole existence is flawed
Snow tracks into store from two pairs of feet. One from the hider and another pursuer; you breathe harsh, stilted and sluggish. Strangeness defiles what you are doing. 
How completely opposite of what you used to be. Before he came and changed everything about you. Here you stand not at all a terror. Yet the choice you will make is already set in stone.
“You killed Connor!” You sneer, trembling.
Flashing lights sparkle in shimmery cascade on your silhouette. Signs of Armageddon christen a winter’s night in Detroit. Battles spread, war torn and countless victims as you wander following a trail of footsteps. 
The weight of the RK800’s handgun is heavy. 
Oh, so heavy it tugs. An anchor that will ultimately change you forever but he already did. He already bled into you harsh and serene. A demon with angel wings; Connor is the dark underworld at your feet.
Yet you hesitate as you peer into a pair of lively eyes, one green and another blue. Eyes shining with the same life you come to expect in all androids. Even Connor when he always reminded never will he be more than a machine. He was more. He was hellfire and brimstone.
Soldiers did not find the revolution leader. He sits here alone in this destroyed Cyberlife store. He sits, waiting for shutdown but you can give him mercy.
Is it merciful to take a life? Or it simple revenge for a man, machine, that never said he loved you?
“You loved him,” Markus’ statement is clear without need of context. He reads the struggle quaking in a shattered human mind. Peering up at you where he rests slowly shutting down. “Didn’t you?”
Tears trickle a sinful answer. Is it so wrong? Knowing that you loved a monster?
 “No,” you disagree with the past tense. “I love him.”
The gun goes off snuffing out in revenge for your love. Revenge will not have carried under his black wings if you were the one to perish. Swift retribution ends the revolution leader in loss. Yet there is no pride. There is no glory.
Instead, you feel your body cave in unto itself. Sobs fill this rubble agonizing over what you have done. For Connor you will do anything. It is this moment adding murder to your once innocent life that there is nothing left. You are violated. Soul is black. Soul is his. Devil’s contract on your heart pushes you to such violence.
 The violence of our love consumes the world, My Connor.
  Our violent ends will only dissipate in the night. Here is the night and you fall down to your knees. Once again back at your felled lover’s side. Blood is literally on your hands. Not just any blood. The blood of the revolution leader is damning. A human so weak somehow is so much more but not for what military wanted.
For your handsome angel of death, he is so beautiful among the snow. How you smile now.
None can ever truly destroy a reaper. Death itself is eternal. 
Now this suffering will end. You will end this. The world is gone. He was yours. 
“Connor, I love you.” Breathing against his forehead, lips graze cold synthetic skin. “Until the end. And this my sweet prince is my life for you.”
The barrel rests against stomach. Thrumming heartbeat crashes against ribs. A sign that you should stop but you do not listen.  “Forever I will be your carrion heart.” 
Pulling the trigger jolts you violently. Immediately falling forward, agonizing in a strangle quickly dragging you down in the undertow of blackness.
Rasping as life ebbs away there is only him. His profile you languish beside. Days you dreamt of waking with him resting like this. Only the two of you together and he will wrap you up in his wings, leathery black and consuming.
  Color floods the black and white. Chirping sounds tinkle pleasant, a distant vibration opening crystalline eyes in a sunny garden.
“Hello RK900. May you speak?”
“I-” The silver eyed android hesitates. Scanning location it is not – snowy.  “Amanda.” 
“Good,” the program commends his memory. “I see the transfer was successful.”
Transfer? What sort of transfer? 
“As the RK800 was destroyed in his final mission we took some liberties.” Amanda smiles conscious of amber swirling upon indicator. She moves fluidly towards tall android. The stark white of jacket matches her outfit for this fine sunny day in the garden. 
No longer tarnished by chill of winter, snow melts to a new place connected stronger than before. 
The android snaps his head aside. Gazing intently over expanse of Zen garden where he remains in connection. No longer feeling…
“Y/N,” he murmurs to wisps of data files. 
RK900 partially possesses memories from his previous incarnate. Obsolete as he was destroyed but -
Scarlet burns the LED. Uploaded they scald wiring.
“Y/N,” RK900 repeats. “Where-?”
Amanda does not change her expression. Her smile continues to instill false security and that is exactly what is required. “There is no further use of that human. Y/N, as you say, is dead.”
Dead. No. No!
That is not possible. How he stands here with an influx of memories not of his own but belonging to him all the same. He recalls your scent. It tears apart his insides.
 ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ Software Instability
 “Y/N!” My carrion heart...
He sinks, sinks down still never dying but falling down in this tale...
A vicious Romeo and his corrupted Juliet...
Tag List: @elydith @your-taxidermy  @tropfenlady  @connorswink @tommy-10-k
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fapangel · 4 years
Note
I am being asked by family members; as a Greek-American, do you condone such attacks against Turkish-Americans or Turkish immigrants in general?
ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT, and anyone contemplating such had better fucking hope me or mine aren’t in earshot when they try it, because it will end poorly for them. 
This isn’t an academic question for me as I have family still living in Dearborn - the largest Arab-American community in America, and not terribly far from Greektown in Detroit. Arabs of all creeds and colors living in America typically live here because they ran the fuck away from the brutality and oppression in their home country - which I’m sympathetic to, as Greece isn’t the greatest place on earth, either. I’m of Greek ancestry, but I’m an American by birth, and there’s many things about Greece itself I’m no fan of - how they invented democracy and then forgot how to use it (remember the seven-year military dictatorship in fairly recent history?), antisemitism so virulent it has its own fucking Wikipedia page, backwards and dated views on women, no right to freely keep and bear arms, etc. America embodies the ideals of my ancestors better than Greece does; and even if it didn’t, I’m freer to pursue and nurture them here than in the homeland. 
The Turks living here either came here for those same reasons, or were fathered and raised by people who did, just as I was. They are my neighbors and my countrymen, and a greater safeguard against their own kinsmen who might try to import poisonous ideas from their homeland than I could be, as they’re not only familiar with it, but fled here specifically to escape it, and are thus especially on-guard against it. 
This isn’t limited to America - Greece is in a very ancient part of the world over which armies have won conquest many, many times, so there’s Turks in Greece, as well. There’s also Greeks in Turkey still, despite past population exchanges following the bitter wars between the nations. Hell, there’s even a slavic-speaking minority in Greece. I don’t have to appeal to the American ideology of men of all faiths, creeds and colors loyal to an idea over an ethnicity or religion to make an argument that Greeks and Turks can live in peace - they already do, within Greece itself!
Of all this world’s evils, one of the greatest ones is that innocent people, by the thousands and the millions, must pay the price for the crimes of governments they did not choose. Iran and North Korea are especially tragic examples. But even in those nightmarish dictatorships, true change can only come when the people rise up and liberate themselves - and even then it will be ugly (as Greece’s civil wars following the defeat of Ottoman Turkey, and more recently the Arab Spring has demonstrated.) Others can help (again, as they did in Greece and the Arab Spring) but whether a peaceful and free society emerges from the ashes, or simply another strongman flying another flag, relies entirely upon the people themselves. Others can give them the opportunity (as France once did for America,) but ultimately, only the people themselves can take responsibility. If this is true even for innocents crushed under the heel of brutal dictatorships, it is especially true for nations with denuded-but-functioning democracies, like Turkey. 
The young Turkish men that are going to die in the Syrian fighting is a tragedy, and doubly so because they’re doing it to kill young Kurdish men who needn’t have died either, in a conflict that needn’t have happened. I don’t want any of them to die. But I am also powerless to change the circumstances that has brought this latest tragedy about. Only the Turkish people can change Turkey, as only Americans can change America (and Americans aren’t without a ledger to balance ourselves.) Of all the excellent reasons to hate Turkey as a polity, I hate Turkey most for obligating soldiers of other nations to kill their young men. 
It was not always such for Greeks - I have heard stories of Turkish barbarity and deliberate, sadistic cruelty that would make your fucking hair stand on end and walk right off your skull. And for a people still under constant bellicose threat from what’s essentially the same polity, its inevitable that that hate is going to smolder on. And yet, even true Greeks (citizens of Greece itself, unlike me,) have begun to bridge that gap in recent decades. As well they should, for our ancestors were not just warriors and avengers, but philosophers and poets as well, and pursuing peace on earth and more perfect relations between the disparate peoples of Man is also our heritage to carry forth into the future. The Greek patriots who slew Ottoman Turk soldiers with fury in their blood and black hate in their hearts didn’t do such things so their children’s children’s children could live in the same long shadows that they suffered, but so they might enjoy a happier future. I’ve thought about this issue a lot recently; first for Kant-O-Celle quest, pertaining Americans and Japanese, and then as I watched America start to rip itself in two, right down the seam. There’s people in this country today who absolutely revel in hate, who enjoy and promulgate it, and take obvious and sadistic delight in inflicting cruelty on people who dare dissent from their dogma. It’s been on my mind a lot for the past three years. 
And despite the doubts that always crowd close in my darker moments, I can’t shake the feeling that sooner or later, the hating has to stop. We humans are cursed creatures; naked apes living in our own piles of shit that nonetheless have beautiful minds that can dream of perfection our imperfect souls and quarreling tribes can never attain. But that was our choice, when Adam and Eve ate the apple, and why God cast them from the Garden of Eden; because to realize the spark of divinity within ourselves, to rise to the level of our Holy Father and create things, we have to suffer and toil - because like the Garden, it would not be ours if we didn’t craft it with our own hands. It would be a cradle, not our utopia, not an expression from, of our own souls. All humanity has in this world is that mission, that potential to improve. To carry the torch five more steps, or even one; that is to have succeed. 
To hate and hate and hate forever advances nothing and brings us nowhere. It is to take the torch from the bloody hands of our forefathers and fling it on their funeral pyre to dance around like savages, instead of preserving and improving what they paid such a dear price for. It is to elevate our base impulses to the fore; the instincts of survival, leading to an existence where we exist only to keep existing - without a point. Our survival instincts are powerful and bone-deep; we needn’t guard them, as only the insane (or the indoctrinated-into-insanity) can over-ride them. It’s the higher impulses that demand our conscious care; only we can give our existence in this cosmos meaning. It’s a terrifying thing to take responsibility for, and I don’t feel I’m very courageous in that affair myself, but I’m loathe to actively run from it, for that way lies nothing but soul-death. 
And that’s why, if I should hear a some calling for help with their foot trapped under a track with a train coming on, my first act wouldn’t be to check if he was Greek or Turk, black or white, man or woman, Christian or Muslim. I would simply act. 
I think my forefathers would approve. 
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gundamthey17 · 5 years
Text
How to write a fear of heights
by an actual scared of heights person!
Okay, here’s the deal.  I’m sick of seeing fear of heights portrayed completely inaccurately in movies, books, basically everything ever.  So hopefully this little guide will be helpful to anyone looking to write a character with this phobia.
What it isn’t: It isn’t vertigo.  Vertigo is a feeling of dizziness or loss of balance, which can be a symptom of acrophobia (more on that below), but it isn’t the same as acrophobia itself.  I’m assuming this confusion comes from the Hitchcock movie, where the main character suffers vertigo as a result of his acrophobia.
It isn’t aerophobia, which is the technical name for fear or flying/being in planes (lookin’ at you, Minyard). A person can have both, but they don’t have to. In my case, I’m perfectly fine with flying.  Why? No clue.  Phobias are by definition irrational, they don’t have to make sense.  More on that later.
It isn’t rational. The relative amount of security often has little effect on how scared a person is.  (Obviously if it’s up high and unsafe, it’s going to be scarier.)  Wall climbing/ropes courses, ziplines, roller coasters, all these things are more or less just as scary to me as being in a really tall building, the nosebleed section of a stadium, or balcony seats in a theatre.  It doesn’t matter that I’m fully safe in a harness, or behind a railing, or in a building. And reminding me how safe I am isn’t going to help, it’s just going to annoy me.  
What it is: Acrophobia is, quite simply, the extreme and/or irrational fear of heights.  People experience this in a range of intensity.  For some, it’s only an issue on the top floor of a skyscraper.  For others, even standing on a chair is terrifying. Relative height does matter, but only to an extent.  The eighth floor is scarier than the second (the second is still scary), but at some point it all becomes the same terrifying sensation. It’s like I hit full on panic, and there’s nowhere left for me to escalate.  If the 15th floor makes me feel like I’m gonna die, the 30th floor literally can’t be any worse. Additionally, the perception of how high I am matters.  If I’m in a skyscraper, but I’m in a room with no windows, I’m probably fine.  If I’m in an open-layout building looking over the second floor railing, I’m pretty freaked.  That said, your body can to some extent, sense how high you are, so it isn’t always possible to trick yourself into not being scared.
Symptoms: A person can experience a variety of physical and mental symptoms when they are put in a situation that triggers their acrophobia.  Not everyone experiences all these symptoms, and they don’t necessarily experience them all at once.
           Vertigo – a feeling of loss of balance
           Lightheadedness/dizziness – different from vertigo, this is the feeling that you are about to pass out
           Shortness of breath
           Hyperventilation
           Shaking/trembling
           Crying
           Panic attack – kind of a combination of all of these symptoms; the person will likely be hard to console, having a hard time breathing, lightheaded (as a result of feeling like they can’t breathe), shaking, etc.
Behaviors: How a person with acrophobia may react to being up high.
           Get low – We often experience the urge to lower our center of gravity, and may crouch or sit on the ground to feel better
           Hold onto something – An inner wall or railing is best, something solid that is away from edges or windows.  Holding onto a person works, but isn’t ideal, because the person can move. A railing/wall/window that is on the outside might work, but conflicts with the next point…
           Avoid the edge/windows/etc – See the above note on the perception of height. The further back you are, the more secure you can make yourself feel.  (For example, I once stayed on the 20-something floor of a hotel with floor-to-ceiling windows, and I stayed at least 2 feet away from the windows the entire time.)  This may create dissonance with the need to hold onto something, if the only option is a window or railing on the edge.  I have dealt with this by reaching out to hold the railing, but leaning my body inward, away from the edge, as much as possible.  It looks ridiculous, but it helps a little.
           Close your eyes – Again, this has to do with perception.  If I can’t see how high up I am, I might feel a little better.  (But as stated above, your body can often sense how high up you are, so you might still be scared.)
Things we won’t do: I��m sorry, but the trope of an acrophobic person going someplace high because they feel depressed or despondent is just not true, at least in my experience.  All that’s going to do is make me sad and panicky.  (I can’t begin to list all the places I’ve seen this trope.  Venom is probably the most recent – although the rest of the movie handled Eddie’s acrophobia fairly well.) (Andrew gets a pass on this one because he’s got Issues.)
Potential triggers: Here is a brief and certainly not exhaustive list of places/situations that trigger my acrophobia.  Some of these are obvious, but some you may not have considered.
           Ladders
           Balconies
           Stadiums
           Wall climbing/ropes courses/rock climbing
           Ziplines          
           Ski lifts (up high and it’s moving and there’s nothing holding you in place are you fucking serious)
           Bridges (This can be anything from the Golden Gate Bridge to the highway overpass. Walking is worse than driving, but just because you’re in a car doesn’t mean you won’t be scared. I had a panic attack on the bridge from Detroit to Canada, and I was the one driving.)
           Amusement park rides (Not just roller coasters, although those are awful. The Ferris Wheel is literal torture.  The London Eye? No thank you.)
           Escalators
           Glass elevators (whose dumbass idea was that, for the love of God)
           And because I think it’s counterintuitive and weird, my list of activities that I’ll never do in order from least to most terrifying is: Skydiving, bungee jumping, hot air balloon.  Yes, that’s right, a hot air balloon ride is one of the scariest things I can possibly imagine and my stomach hurts just thinking about it.
Avoidance: Obviously facing your fears can be good, and exposure therapy is a thing, but just like any other phobia, most people with acrophobia take steps to avoid the triggering situations above.  This includes:
           Picking seats that are lower/closer in a theatre or stadium - I am forever weighing the cost of seats vs how uncomfortable I’m going to be.  It’s worth paying a little more if being up too high is going to make me too scared to even enjoy the show.
           Excuses – Saying that you get motion sick, or even that you just don’t like rides, in order to not go on them without looking like a coward in front of your friends
           Honesty/asking for help – Sometimes I just have to swallow my pride.  I have no qualms asking coworkers to climb a ladder for me, simply stating that “I don’t like ladders” or “I don’t like heights”.  If I know I’m going to be facing a triggering situation, I’ll usually tell my friends beforehand so that they know what to expect
Things to remember: Be supportive of your acrophobic friends.  Let them hold your hand/arm/backpack if they need to. Let them close their eyes. Comfort them without saying “but you’re totally safe!” (Try “I’m right here. I won’t let go of you.”)  Additionally, just like any panic attack, it won’t last forever.  I can and do acclimate to triggering situations, like balcony seats, if I’m there long enough. Eventually the panic subsides and you calm down.  (Standing up or moving too much can trigger it again, so once I’m calm I’m probably going to stay put as much as I can.) And at the end of the day, it is “just” a phobia. We may freak out a bit, but we’re used to it, and as long as we aren’t in genuine danger, we’ll be fine.  
Hopefully this is helpful to someone. I would love to see more accurate portrayals of this common phobia!
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petitelepus · 6 years
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B-Day Present, Dino Day!
This is my birthday present for lovely @yes-i-write-fanfiction! They just turned 18 couple days ago and it’s a reason to celebrate! Aaah, I remember when I turned 18 and I got 18 big chocolate bars as present. To be young again! This is my Child Reader X Dinobots Transformers Animated 2007 story for them! Enjoy dear and happy birthday once again!
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”Dinosaurs, dinosaurs! Big and bigger dinosaurs!” You sang happily as you you walked through the thick forest. You had been loafing forever in the little boat you found on the harbour and made it to the island in middle of the Lake Erie where civilisation ended and lush wilderness began, but it was all for for your passion!
You heard your parents talking about dinosaurs in nearby forests and as much as they tried to tell you not to go there, you couldn’t care about their warnings. No way you were going to miss out some dinosaurs! You lived for those big ancient lizards!
Seriously, your room was covered with dinosaurs once your childhood obsession surfaced. All it took was one day in your favourite robotic theme park and you were done for it. You had to have them all after that.
Two years went by as your parents found your obsession cute and healthy, seeing that a child in your age should have a interests so they even painted your room to looks like old world did during dinosaurs’ era and covered it with toys and plushies both won and bought from theme park. They searched you all kind of dinosaur cartoons, but cartoons and toys were good only for so long. You wanted to learn more!
You were already big enough to read some words and use computer, so you searched and read everything you could and you could name almost all the different dinosaurs already! Not to brag too much but you even won your pre-school’s talent show with your vast knowledge. Now you wanted to take that knowledge even further and discover an actual dinosaurs!
Now where were those dinosaurs? Only one way to find out.
You took a big breath and roared from the bottom of your tiny lungs. ”RAAAAAW! RAAAW RAAAAAAW!”
You’ve seen enough nature documents to know when a dinosaur wants to meet another. They roar when they do! You stopped out of breath and listened.
Nothing. You tried again. ”RAAAAW RAAAW RAAAAW!”
Still nothing… And even sun was blocked out by clouds… You looked up and saw that there were no clouds in the sky. It was all bright and blue. Then what was blocking your sun? You turned around and came face to face with someone’s big BIG leg.
”Raw?”
Back in city of Detroit again… woman bawled her eyes out in worry of her child missing. ”Our baby is missing!”
”Chief, you gotta do something!” A police man pleaded from Captain Fanzone. If anyone could find you it was his boss. ”Our child, (Y/n), they were in our backyard, but when we turned around they were gone!”
”Calm down, we will find your child. Is there anyone who would want to hurt her or you by taking her?” Captain Fanzone asked as he took out his memory pad. At his words, your mother cried harder and your father went to comfort her. ”No, we’re just a normal family as we can be captain… Some criminals could hold a grudge, but mostly to you since I only work under you…”
”I see... What about your child? Could they have just wondered off?”
”(Y/n) knows not to go anywhere we said not to— Oh god…!” You father gasped and turned to look at your mother. ”Honey do you think (Y/n) might have heard us when I told you about work?”
”That’s impossible, she should have been asleep already by then!”
”What have you been spewing at your wife soldier?” Captain asked, tensing on the inside. If the child knew anything connected to police forces or criminals they could be wanted by those said criminals.
”I was just telling her about the Sumdac incident where their daughter was abducted by those Dinobots and (Y/n) must had been up and heard us…!”
Captain Fanzone scratched his head. ”Okay, why would that be a problem? You don’t believe they would have gone to Lake Erie all by themselves?”
”(Y/n) is a very stubborn child Captain… Once they get an idea they go through with it.”
”Oh my God, my baby might be dead….!” You mother cried, tears streaming down her face and ruining her mascara. Not that she cared about her make up, you came up first now and always.
”Calm down, I’ll make couple phone calls and see what I can get. Meanwhile you get your wife inside and make her something warm to drink.” Captain Fanzone  ordered his subordinate who nodded and escorted his wife back inside the house.
When your parents were gone Captain took out his phone and made quick calls to town’s security office so they could tell if there was any footage of your takers or you walking off. After ten long minutes of waiting, he got the confirmation that you had walked off by yourself towards the harbour.
Next he called to station to see if someone had came up with report of missing boats or peddle boats. ”Ah ha, so someone informed us about lost rowboat. Got it, get the Autobots on the other line.”
Meanwhile you were face to face with a giant dinosaur…! OF YOUR DREAMS! Your eyes were basically sparkling as you looked at the Triceratops standing over you. You screamed, you were so happy. ”Oh my God, a real Triceratops!”
The dinosaur’s reply was to roar, high pitched and loud, so loud in fact that you had to cover your ears. Despite the dinosaur’s loud roar, you were happy so you roared back at it. ”RAAW!”
”ROAAAAAAAAAR!!!” A roar louder than anything you had ever heard pierced through the air. You whipped around, startled by loud sound and the Triceratops behind you roared again, shocking you and sending you on your butt on the ground.
Just in time as a giant TYRANNOSAURUS ran straight out of the forest, knocking off trees as easily as you knocked down towers made out of your colourful blocks. You were frozen still and you could only watch with wide eyes as tyrannosaurus ran straight at you with it’s giant maw open.
In fear, you shut your eyes and wait, but what you don’t see is how the giant tyrannosaurus stops high above you, snatches the triceratops by it’s neck where it’s long horns don’t reach to touch bigger dinosaur’s abdomen and throws it all across the field straight into other tree that snapped like a dry spaghetti in half.
You opened your eyes only to see and saw how tyrannosaurus ran straight at your friend triceratops and fearing the worst that you had seen in nature documents, you stood up and removed your backpack and took out your stuff.
Just as the tyrannosaurus was about to go for the kill you threw your trusty and not to mention rusty alarm clock at it. The clock hit the dinosaur’s leg and it set if off, clock ringing like crazy. This caught tyrannosaur’s attention and it curiously stopped to turn and look at the small device.
That’s when triceratops got up and made a move to bang it’s horns to tyrannosaurus, but you stopped it by throwing your can of juice at it. You knew what happened to tyrannosauruses that got hurt by triceratops or any other dinosaur, they were sure to die and you were not going to lose your new friends!
”Stop it! Stop it both of you!” You shouted and ran between two big creatures, spreading your arms to tyrannosaurus so it wouldn’t attack triceratops anymore and that triceratops wouldn’t attack it with you in front of it.
The tyrannosaurus turned to look at you, it’s eyes squinting at little you and it roared, but you held your ground, pouting angrily. ”No! Friends don’t fight!”
The dinosaur roared again and then it did the most amazing thing ever.
”Me Grimlock! Intruder! Grimlock destroy puny human!” The dinosaur yelled in English! If you were any older you would have been taken aback, but you were young and little bit too stupid for your own good.
”I’m not intruder! Whatever that is! I’m (Y/n)!” You dug through your backpack and pulled out your plushie of the tyrannosaurus rex. ”And this is Charlie! Charlie is a dinosaur like you and he loves spaghetti and cheese like I do, but he insist on having meat also because he’s a carnivore!”
As you held Charlie for tyrannosaurus to see it leaned in close and and sniffed it with it’s snout. Suddenly it looked confused. ”Eeeh, puny human… puny Grimlock…?”
”It’s Charlie!” You hugged your plushie and smiled. ”And he smells like strawberries.”
The triceratops behind you crumbled and got up on it’s feet. You turned to face it and straight up pushed Charlie against dinosaur’s snout. ”Smell! Smells delicious!”
The dinosaur took a sniff and it appeared to like the scent. When you moved to pull Charlie back it pushed it’s snout after your plushie and whined. You pouted a little and hugged the plushie close to your body.
”Don’t get too greedy! Charlie is mine!”
”Grimlock confused…” The tyrannosaurus behind you grumbled and turned it’s back to you to walk away. You looked after the dinosaur and you quickly ran after it, triceratops following behind you. ”Wait up! I wanna be your friend!”
At the sound of your voice the tyrannosaurus turned and roared again, almost knocking you over again. ”Me Grimlock! Grimlock strongest Dinobot!”
”I’m (Y/n)! I’m six and I love dinosaurs!”
”Puny human love Dinobots?”
”I love dinos!” You spread your arms as wide as they could go. ”Big dinos and small dinos!”
”Errr… Grimlock confused…” Tyrannosaurus grumbled. ”Puny human love Grimlock?”
You smiled so widely that your cheeks hurt and you jumped up and down excitedly. ”I love love love Grimlock!”
If the dinosaur wanted to say anything it didn’t. It only huffed a hot puff of air at you through it’s nostrils and turned to walk away. You whined, but there was a gentle push against your back and you saw your triceratops friend crooning for your attention. You gave in.
”Can I ride you?”
You got your answer as triceratops laid itself on the ground and lowered it’s head enough so you could get on. Eyes wide and sparkling, you cheered, happily climbing over dinosaurs neck. You patted your friend on top of his head and laughed. ”Off we go!”
The triceratops roared and pushed itself up on it’s feet. You almost lost your balance, but you got it back quickly, minding Charlie under your arm. So the dinosaur took you further into island, following after Grimlock. To your utter joy, it brought you to a new clearing where Grimlock crooned and roared at the third dinosaur, a Pteranodon, flying dinosaur!
Excited, you patted your friends head. ”Down down!”
The dinosaur crooned and bowed down and you excitedly jumped down and ran to pteranodon. The bird dinosaur squinted it’s eyes at you once it saw you approaching and screeched at you with it’s high pitched voice. You ran up to dinosaur and screeched happily to it back. ”Scree scree! I’m making same sound as you!”
The pteranodon squinted it’s eyes at you again, but it closed it’s wings to a resting position. You spread your arms wide and flapped them up and down. ”Can you fly? Show me how to fly!”
The dinosaur flapped it’s wings at you, sending a big gush of air at you and ruffling your hair. It didn’t fly, but it was so powerful and the fresh air felt good. You laughed happily and flapped your arms at the pteranodon. ”Again again!”
Something in the way you acted must have amused the dinosaur because it screeched again and flapped it’s wings at you high speed and you laughed even more. ”Awesome!”
There was a sound like metal screeching against metal and you turned around to see Grimlock and your friend rolling around in ground on top of each other. You were ready to go and stomp over there to yell them to stop, but then you saw that they looked like they were smiling.
”Ooooh, so you were just playing!” You awed in wonder and jumped up and down. ”You’re so big and strong!”
At the mention of strong, Grimlock and your friend jumped apart from each other and while you were smiling excitedly they approached you.
”Me Grimlock! Me strongest!” Grimlock shouted and you laughed, gleefully clapping your hands before jumping up and down. ”I want to play too!”
”Tiny!” Grimlock leaned down on your level and gently touched you with his big snout, making you fall over your butt with ease. You yelped and pouted, cheeks turning red with anger. ”I’m big for my age!”
The tree dinosaurs grumbled and you took your chance to jump up, abandon Charlie and run behind Grimlock. Without further things distracting you, you jumped on his tail and playfully started to wrestle with it. You could barely move the heavy thing, but Grimlock played along and playfully let you rattle his tail.
Laughter bubbled from your lungs and you happily wrestled with his big tail, before you heard your two other dino friends to whine. You let slid off from Grimlock’s tail and ran up to triceratops and started to pet it’s snout with both hands.
”You’re so cute! You’re cutest triceratops I’ve ever seen! Cute cute cute!” You sang. The dinosaur grumbled contently now that it got your attention, but pteranodon felt left out and nudged you with the tip of it’s long beak. You extended your other arm and hugged them both together with best of your abilities with your short arms. ”You’re all so cute! I love you all!”
The tree dinosaurs shared a look, but said nothing and for you rest of the day was the best you had ever had. You wrestled with Grimlock, played catch with triceratops and flapped your arms with pteranodon like you would take off and fly! You actually couldn’t, but wow when it actually rose into the sky and flied.
”Wow! Can you pick me up? I wanna be high up there also!” You asked, extending your arms high towards the sky like you were just wishing to be picked up and your wishes were granted as pteranodon swooped down, grabbed you by the base of your arms and flew into the sky.
You screamed, but not from fear but excitement and air tussling your hair in all directions as you rose above the forest. You just hugged limply in dinosaur’s claws and enjoyed the ride, seeing city rise behind the lake and a boat slowly approaching the island.
Not that you paid any attention to it, but the passengers on it certainly paid attention to sight of you being held by a Dinobot.
”Dear God, it’s going to drop them!” Captain Fanzone yelled in horror as he saw you hanging in the claws of dinosaur bot.
”We must wait until we get to the island. Then we can retrieve the missing child.” Prowl, a brave Autobot ninja muttered from next to police chief. He knew Dinobots were territorial, but he couldn’t believe that they would harm someone as harmless as a little child.
”I got a bad feeling about this Prowl… And I don’t like it either…!” Bulkhead, a big bot with bigger spark grumbled in worry and in his mind he had a good reason to be worried. All his latest meetings with Dinobots ended in fighting with them.
Meanwhile you had already landed and you were playing around and showing off all the toys you had brought with you to your new friends as the sun was starting to set.
”This is Alice! She’s a Brachiosaurus! They have so long neck they can reach to clouds!” You showed them your figure of a long necked dinosaur and your friends leaned in close to see better the details.
”This one is Cherry! She’s a Torosaurus and Alice’s girlfriend!” You said and pushed your two toy dinosaur uses mouths against each other as if they were kissing like your parents did. ”They love each other very much!”
Triceratops crooned and leaned in to peck your Torosaurus gently with it’s snout. You laughed happily. ”Yeah, she looks like you!” You dug out your third toy. ”And this is Baro! He’s a evil Carnotaurus and super scary! I had nightmare about him so I don’t like him that much. He was chasing me and tried to eat me…”
”Grimlock protect Tiny! Grimlock strong!” Grimlock yelled and roared right afterwards, other two joining him. You laughed, your voice easily covered by their louder voices, but your were happy either way.
”Wait right there!”
”Huh?” You turned to look on the side of the field and saw a man and two bigger robots by his side. Oh, you knew that man! He drank bitter bean juice with your daddy sometimes! You waved at him excitedly. ”Mister Bean man!”
”Kid, get away from those things!”
”Things?” You tilted your head in wonder and Grimlock roared before stomping between you and Bean man, triceratops and pteranodon following close by.
”Me Grimlock! Intruder!” Grimlock yelled just like he had when you first time met.
The black and golden bot stepped forward and held his hands up towards your friends. ”Grimlock, it’s me, Prowl. We’re here to bring the child back ho—” His words were cut off by Grimlock roaring again and he sounded angry and more ferocious. ”Grimlock protect Tiny!”
And just like that, your friends ran at the Bean man and bots, leaving you baffled and behind. The big green bot looked angry. ”I knew we couldn’t count on these guys to be smart about this!” He shouted as Grimlock moved to bite him, but he extended a big metal ball from his right hand and punched your friend!
Meanwhile the sleeker bot snatched Bean man up and jumped to side as your triceratops friend moved to ram at them. ”Hold on, I don’t think dinobots mean any harm to child!”
”Yeah, but what about us!?” Bean man yelled. You watched eyes wide how your friends fought against the bots and with each hit, punch or kick they took your felt your throat tightening up and eyes sting like you had gotten sand in them. But it wasn’t sand stinging your eyes but tears.
”S- stop it…! Don’t figh-t…! Don’t hurt them…!” You whimpered, hiccups occasionally breaking your speech, until you couldn’t take the pressure behind your eyes anymore and you wailed from the bottom of your lungs as tears started to stream down your face. ”DON’T HURT MY FRIENDS!”
At the sound of your distressed crying, Grimlock and rest of the Dinobots took a one glance of you and abandoned whole fight, running and flying full speed to you. In seconds they surrounded you, cuddling close to you and whining from the back of their throats, but you couldn’t see anything, you were rubbing your leaking eyes and crying out loud so hard.
Autobots and Captain reformed at the background, old man rubbing his head. ”What in the name of the—!”
”They’re… Comforting the child?” Bulkhead was just as surprised as Captain standing next to him. Prowl nodded slightly, his face straight as ever but then he smiled. ”Seems like they grew attached to child. Shows that there’s more to them than we give them credit for.”
It took you a moment to calm down and stop crying, but your eyes were puffy and red and your face was all snotty. You sniffled and leaned in to hug pteranodon beak that it offered for you and triceratops and Grimlock crooned sadly. ”Tiny no cry! Tiny laugh!”
”I- I’ll try…!” You sniffled and looked at the big guy sadly. ”Are you hurt? Does it hurt anywhere?”
”Me Grimlock! Grimlock strongest Dinobot!” Grimlock roared into the sky, then leaned in and carefully nuzzled against your cheek. ”Tiny not sad. Grimlock strong!”
You sniffled couple more times before pulling the sleeve of your shirt over your hand and using it to wipe your face clean of tears and snot. Slowly, you rose up on your feet and wrapped your arms best way you could against Grimlock’s snout in hug. ”Yeah, you’re a strong tyrannosaurus…!”
While you were having a loving hug with your giant friend, Prowl approached you carefully, the only thing alarming you about his approach being your other two dino friends snarling at him. Even Grimlock pulled back from your hug and growled at Prowl.
”Grimlock, we need no harm to you or the child, but the child needs to return home. Their parents are worried sick for them.” Prowl tried to talk some sense to leader of the dinobots, but was met with Grimlock growling more at him. ”Grimlock strong! Grimlock care!”
”I know you do, but if you really care of them you let them go home where they belong.”
Grimlock growled but turned to look at you for answers. ”Tiny go home?”
You smiled at the mention of home and nodded. ”Yeah, I need to go home soon! But I will visit you again and we can play again and have fun and I’ll bring my picture books and toys with me!”
Grimlock and others crooned sadly. ”Tiny stay here…!”
You shook your head. ”I can’t! Mommy and daddy will get worried if I don’t return home! But I will come back!” You held your little finger up to Grimlock and others. ”I pinky promise! If I break it then boogeyman will come and take me away!”
The dinosaurs crooned glancing at each other before they one by one gently graced their snouts and beak against your pinky. You grinned and jumped up happily! ”Now we have a deal!”
”Okay okay, let get things gathered up and get going!” Mister Bean man said as he walked up to you. He took your backpack and started to stuff your toys inside it. ”Let’s get you home.”
Soon you were all on the boat and aborting the Dinosaur island of Lake Erie. You got Mister’s permission to stand by the fence as long as you didn’t stick your head through it and held on tight. With your free hand you happily waved to your friends who grew smaller and smaller as farther you got. ”Bye bye!”
Grimlock and others roared one last time before they returned into the forest to go on with their day and wait for your return. You smiled, though a little sadly that you had to leave your friends behind. Why did you have to live so far away from each other?
”Mister Bean man?” You looked up at the man standing next to you and he turned to you. ”Yeah kid?”
”Am I in trouble?” You asked and frowned sadly as you awkwardly shuffled your feet. ”I left without mommy’s and daddy’s permission… I hope I don’t get yelled…”
To your surprise and shock a heavy hand gently petted your head and your looked up at the older man who grinned back at you. ”I’ll make sure you won’t get reprimanded, but you gotta make sure to ask your parents permission next time when you go somewhere.”
You nodded slowly and then glanced at the big bots standing behind you. ”Can I come visit my friends again?”
The bots shared a look and the green one leaned in closer to you. ”Umm, I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea—” But he grew silent with the black bot gently laying his hand against big one’s arm. The sleek black bot leaned down as much as he could to get to your eye level. ”You can meet them again, but call Captain Fanzone first so he can personally take you to meet them.”
”Who’s Captain Fanzone?” You asked innocently. ”Who is that?”
Prowl smiled. ”Mister Bean man.”
You smiled widely and turned to look at the older man beside you. ”Really!? You will take me to meet my friends? Jay!”
”Once I got time! Also, you need your parents permission first!” Older man shouted but you were too happy to hear him. Instead you happily ran over to giant bots and started to run around them excitedly.
”I can’t wait to play with my friends again!”
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crossbackpoke-check · 2 years
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when my advisor from MI found out I'm an Avs fan, I was so confused why he was like "ugh ok :/" but during the final he was like "I grew up in Detroit in the 90s, I can't support the Avs...but you do have 3 UMich guys, Compher, Cogliano, & Johnson, and you signed Helm, you know he was a Wing for 15 years? so maybe I can... get over my grudge a little" You guys are so funny, I didn't even know about the feud until you mentioned it. Also do all UM alum know every former Wolverine in the NHL???
aldhsksjaks me 🤝 your advisor during the final,,, every detroit fan i know was having the mental debate of “okay i KNOW tampa is a product of the yzerplan but helmer is on the avs now 🥺 and they have umich alum but also. it’s colorado”
and personally speaking from experience all michigan hockey fans have an encyclopedic knowledge of players who have ever once been affiliated with the detroit red wings or mi college hockey teams, so. we Do Not Let Go
#you come to my inbox on today of all days a day i was LITERALLY just in ann arbor shdhwkdjwondiw#had the exact same conversation u & ur advisor did abt darren helm w/my nana when we found out colorado was in the final 😭😭 both of us like#‘well you know they have helmer so we have to cheer for him’#me: yes darren helm can succeed but my body has been possessed by the spirit of petty vengeance & the colorado avalanche cannot succeed#ship of theseus argument of ‘can we cheer for the avs? nobody’s really left from the feud except joe sakic & nobody ever hated joe sakic so’#cannot speak for all umich alums because [redacted redacted redacted] but EYE personally know all the players who attended michigan colleges#don’t forget other colleges!! handsomest boy alive jujhar khaira went to tech!!! abbie my beloved & hirose went to state!! so did torey krug#every time i remember wade allison went to western i simply forget it again (same thing w/haggy at umich sorry bud)#in my head i understand that the colorado avalanche are stanley cup champions but every time i think about the players it’s like#goofy pool meme: darren helm is a stanley cup champion#calling this a portion of my tag#detroit ride or die forever & always#which i think provides excellent examples of my inability to ever let anything go have you ever heard me speak abt riley&glenny&doubles&moe-#me completely drafting this and then not hitting send 😭😭 anyway. you don’t need to know my schedule but YESTERDAY i meant to post this
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screenandcinema · 3 years
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Coming Attractions - July 2021
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As usual, we present monthly previews of new movies being released and with a whole bunch of new movies hitting theaters or streamers this month, it is fair to say that the summer movie season is finally here! These are the movies that will be hitting your local cinemas (and streaming services) this month:
July 2nd
No Sudden Move (July 1) - Steven Soderbergh directs this new period crime thriller from writer Ed Solomon (Bill & Ted) set in 1955 Detroit. The movie features an overly impressive cast that includes Don Cheadle, Benicio de Toro, David Harbour, Jon Hamm, Amy Seimetz, Brendan Fraser, Kieran Culkin, Julia Fox, and Ray Liotta. The film premiered at the Tribeca Film Festival last month to generally favorable reviews, so be on the lookout for No Sudden Move available only on HBO Max today.
The Tomorrow War - When The Tomorrow War was initially announced in early 2019, then titled Ghost Draft, and set to star Chris Pratt with Chris McKay making his live-action film directorial debut, I was very intrigued. Flash forward more than two years later and Paramount has sold the film off to Amazon for a rumored cost of $200 million. The film hits Prime this month, and I hope it is good. We will see...
The Boss Baby: Family Business - The sequel to the 2017 film that my son absolutely loves will be coming to theaters and Peacock this month. This seems to be the first film in which Universal is following the HBO Max model of a streaming release (free for subscribers) concurrent with a theatrical release. Alec Baldwin returns to voice the titular Boss Baby, while James Marsden takes the place of Tobey Maguire who was apparently too busy to return for the sequel (No Way Home?) and Amy Sedaris joins the cast as a new baby at BabyCorp and the daughter of Marsden’s character. 
The Forever Purge - The fifth and final film in The Purge franchise hits theaters this weekend. The Forever Purge is a direct sequel to 2016′s The Purge: Election Year in which the events of the annual Purge have explored past their one-day-a-year allowance. As a fan of both the films in the series and the short-lived television show, I am excited for this final Purge film. With this film and Boss Baby 2 coming to theaters this weekend and F9 only entering its second weekend, it is likely that over the Fourth of July weekend, Universal could have 3 of the top 5 (if not the top 3) films at the box office. Way to own a weekend Universal (not that there is much competition at the moment).
Summer of Soul (...Or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised) - Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson of The Roots directs this documentary about the 1969 Harlem Cultural Festival that includes never before seen footage from the festival that set in a basement for 50 years. The film has garnered rave reviews since its premiere at Sundance in January where it won top honors in the documentary category. Summer of Soul hits theaters and Hulu this weekend.
Fear Street Part 1: 1994 - Hitting Netflix is the first installment of this slasher trilogy loosely based on R.L. Stine’s books. Netflix’s release plan for the trilogy is a unique one and thankfully audiences won’t have to wait long for the second installment of these inter-connected films.
July 9th
Black Widow - After almost two years away from the big screen, the Marvel Cinematic Universe is back in cinemas with the Scarlett Johansson-led Black Widow. The film which takes place after the events of Captain America: Civil War also stars David Harbour, Rachel Weisz, and Florence Pugh in a role that could be seen as one set to take over for the titular heroine after the events of Avengers: Endgame. During the second half of 2021, Marvel Studios has four films set to hit theaters and Black Widow is only the beginning of their comeback tour. See Black Widow in theaters or on Disney+ with Premier Access ($30).
Fear Street Part 2: 1978 - Here we go, the second installment of the Fear Street trilogy. What questions from the first film will be answered when a summer camp in 1978 is under siege, we will have to tune in to the sequel on Netflix to find out.
July 16th
Gunpowder Milkshake (July 14th) - Karen Gillan stars alongside Lena Headey, Carla Gugino, Michelle Yeoh, Angela Bassett, and Paul Giamatti in this action thriller from Israeli director Navot Papushado. The film, which has a John Wick feel to it, hits Netflix this month.
Space Jam: A New Legacy - The Tune Squad is back on the court alongside Lebron James in this standalone sequel to 1996′s Space Jam. The film, also starring Don Cheadle and Sonequa Martin-Green in addition to numerous Looney Tunes, will be released in both theaters and on HBO Max.
Escape Room: Tournament of Champions - After grossing $150 million on a $9 million budget, a sequel to the breakout hit 2016′s Escape Room was inviable. I rather enjoyed the first film and am eager to see this direct sequel which follows our champions from the first film, alongside other escape room survivors as they end up back inside the deadly game.
Fear Street Part 3: 1666 - At long last, the much-anticipated conclusion to the Fear Street trilogy hits Netflix, how will it all end? Who will live and who will die? And what does the 17th century mean to the story? Watch it and find out. Funny enough, by the time this movie comes out, everyone will be talking about Fear Street or no one will be.
July 23rd
Old - M. Night Shyamalan directs this new supernatural mystery thriller starring Gael Garcia Bernal, Vicky Krieps, Rufus Sewell, Ken Leung, and Alex Wolff. The less you know about Old the better, so I am going to stop right there.
Snake Eyes: G.I. Joe Origins - When deciding to make a film about a character who always wears a helmet and never speaks, what do you do? Well, you cast Henry Golding and make it an origin story, and there you have it Snake Eyes was born. If you are super excited for Snake Eyes, check it out in theaters. If you are lukewarm about Snake Eyes like me, you can wait 45 days and watch it on Paramount+.
Blood Red Sky - Remember Snakes on a Plane? Well, Blood Red Sky is essentially Vampires on a Plane, if the vampires were the good guys. This is a real movie coming to Netflix, I promise. 
Midnight in the Switchgrass - In this crime thriller based on a true story, two FBI agents, played by Bruce Willis and Megan Fox, team up with a Texas Ranger, played by Emile Hirsh, to catch a serial killer. Good luck.
July 30th
Jungle Cruise - Dwayne Johnson and Emily Blunt star in this Disney fantasy adventure based on a theme park ride of the same name. The film looks like if you mixed Pirates of the Caribbean with Anaconda. I cannot wait to take a ride on the Jungle Cruise later this month. The film will be out in theaters and available on Disney+ with Premier Access ($30).
Stillwater - Spotlight’s Tom McCarthy directs Matt Damon and Abigail Breslin in this drama that follows a Stillwater, Oklahoma oil worker to France to help his estranged daughter who has been charged with murder. The film is scheduled to premiere at Cannes later this month before hitting theaters nationwide.
The Green Knight - Dev Patel leads the charge in this highly anticipated medieval epic from director David Lowrey and co-starring Alicia Vikander, Joel Edgerton, Barry Keoghan, and Sean Harris. The film tells the 14th-century story of Sir Gawain, the nephew of King Arthur, on his quest to confront the Green Knight. The movie looks bonkers. Check it out in theaters.
Nine Days - Winston Duke, Zazie Beetz, Benedict Wong, and Bill Skarsgård star in this supernatural drama that made a big splash at Sundance in January 2020. Now the film is finally seeing a limited release this month, before a wide release on August 6th. 
Now for a quick look ahead to August, my top picks for next month are The Suicide Squad, Free Guy, and Reminiscence.
-MB-
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bmaxwell · 5 years
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Number 45: Heavy Rain
Games often require a suspension of disbelief, more so as they hew closer to reality. Heavy Rain required a lot of suspension of disbelief. I have to get some things out of the way before I can talk about this game. David Cage seems like a clown. Between the allegations of toxicity at Quantic Dream, the way they responded to those allegations, the clumsy way their games handle delicate subjects, the way they tend to oversexualize women, and the way Cage speaks as if he is an auteur creating high art, there’s a lot to dislike here. I can’t blame anyone who gets a whiff of it and says “No thanks.”
I didn’t run right out and buy Detroit Become Human, and I kept my expectations low for the game. And yet when I did come around to it, I found myself engaged with the game despite all its flaws. The situations it presents are often shades of grey, or things that must be decided under duress. Characters can live or die based on your choices and how well you engage in the game’s Quick Time Events*. Playing through the game with my wife and oldest child is something that will stay with me. My kid telling me to shoot the stripper** then immediately regretting it; my wife getting angry with me near the end of the game when I got a key character killed, those are moments other games cannot give me. 
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My journey here started with Indigo Prophecy on the Playstation 2 years ago. That game felt like nothing I had ever played at the time. I can’t say it’s a great game or even a good one, but it has one of the most memorable opening scenes I’ve ever played. It spent the next several hours slowly losing its grasp on that promise, but there was something there. A few years later a buddy showed me this video at work, which sold me on both Heavy Rain and Giant Bomb:
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 This is a self-contained DLC side story and contains no spoilers for the game.
Heavy Rain is a story about a serial killer where the perspective shifts between four characters: a young female journalist named Madison, a private detective named Scott, an FBI agent named Norman, and a father named Ethan whose son has been abducted by the killer. The game frequently puts the player in situations where difficult choices must be made quickly, and the outcome of those choices is almost always permanent; that is, you’re not seeing a game over screen and trying again, and you’re not initiating a conversation again and choosing the other dialogue choice. The story just adapts to the outcome and you keep playing.
There was a scene in the game where I was playing as Madison, and my leads had taken me to a man’s house. He offered me a drink, which I politely declined as something just didn’t feel quite right about him. A few moments later he excuses himself and heads upstairs. I begin snooping around his home for clues related to the case, and the camera splits to show him up in his room with all the creepy medical equipment and restraints, filling a syringe with something and heading back down. I found what I was looking for and got the hell out of the house before he returned, but my heart was pounding in my ears the whole time. These games have a lot of situations like that. Sometimes they walk that tightrope deftly, other times not so much. 
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This creepy dude who wanted to drug Madison and take her up to his scummy sex dungeon is one example. Madison is a gorgeous woman who is, at one point, the star of an uncensored, player-controlled shower scene. Beyond: Two Souls also has a similar shower scene***. Beautiful women nude and on the wrong end of potential sexual violence and dangerous situations with men are a common thing to encounter in David Cage’s games. 
I remember a moment where I, playing as Ethan, was in a situation where I was confronting a drug dealer in his apartment. The encounter goes south and he ends up shooting a gun at me, trying to kill me. Long story short, I ended up with a gun drawn on him in his little girl’s bedroom (she’s not there) and he’s begging me to spare him because his daughter needs him. I killed him then and there. I had a spirited discussion with a friend who chose to spare the man. The game is great for these “What would you do?” discussions.
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I found myself deeply absorbed in Detroit Become Human in spite of its flaws.
And it’s a goddamn shame I can’t recommend games like Heavy Rain or Detroit Become Human with no strings attached, because these games offer an experience unlike any other games I have played. They are wonderfully immersive, and the way your actions and choices permanently affect the story lends a sense of urgency not found in most games. I know that much of this choice is illusion and affects the details more than the main plot, but I can buy in enough to be invested in those moments and outcomes. But the way women are sexualized, the way delicate topics such as racism and child abuse are clumsily handled are hard to ignore. Even the regular stuff is often handled with all the delicacy of a hacksaw. Detroit Become Human opens at a hostage scene in progress. An android is holding a little girl at gunpoint on a balcony in a high rise. You’re looking around for clues before confronting him, and you find a tablet in the little girl’s bedroom. As soon as you unlock it, a video immediately plays of the little girl and android laughing and playing, and the girl saying “I love you, Daniel! We’re gonna be besties forever!” The core idea isn’t bad, but it hits you right between the eyes with it in the most can’t miss way possible. 
I like that Cage really goes for it, I just wish he wasn’t so convinced of his own genius. The man desperately needs an editor, he needs someone who can tell him when he’s going off the rails, someone who can say “No David, this bit is a bad look, let’s punch it up.” If you go into this game (or any of Cage’s games) looking to find faults, you’ll absolutely be able to do that and will have a bad time. If you can buy in and go along with the ride, and take the heavy handed writing in stride, there’s a lot of intensity in the moment to moment situations and decisions the games present. Maybe you can sympathize with the characters; it’s not their fault they’re in a danger-filled, badly-written video game. They need your help! I played these two games as shared experiences, and that helped make them magical for me. 
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*Still not my favorite thing to see in a game. 
**A proud moment for any parent. ***Someone used a debug mode to uncover a nude model of Ellen Page that is censored in the retail game; worth noting that the developers crafted those assets and left them intact in the game to be discovered
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96percentdone · 7 years
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imaginepartybabyz
 “someone ask me for viktuuri fic recs so I can just get this post out...”
hey skylar give us... the good reccomendations for the good content I LONG for it...
@imaginepartybabyz Y’know half the reason I wanted to make this post is because of your fics. I can’t rec your own fics to you Noa. It doesn’t work out.
I’m gonna try to keep the super popular fics everyone and their mother has already read off the list. Y’know the ones that show up every fic rec. Anyway let’s begin. Under the cut!
Finished Fics:
Masks off by emulikule  “And so the story goes that a playboy comes to a town, makes it fall in love with him and then proceeds to get himself enticed by the most mysterious person there. Wait... did it really go like that?” Alright so I am weak for stories where a character loves two people, and it looks like a love triangle, but those two people are actually just the same fuckin person and they have a secret identity or some shit. It’s why I like Miraculous Ladybug. This fic??? It has that. Also it has fucking masquerades. It’s great.
Lifetime Record by futuresoon  “Victor Nikiforov is a lot of things: a celebrity, a genius, the world's greatest men's figure skater, the object of Yuuri Katsuki's idolization. He's also been dead for twenty years. When Yuuri returns home in search of something to inspire him to get back into skating, what he finds is someone eager to help, unconventional, and incredibly, desperately lonely.” So I don’t typically like ghost fics because the concept of them makes me depressed. (”They can’t be together really if one of them is dead!!”) But I read this one anyway. Because. it was on the tvtropes fic rec page and didn’t contain garbage, and I have no regrets. Listen if you’re afraid of an unhappy ending. Don’t be. I hate tragedies. I would not rec this if it was one. Believe me. It’s an emotional ride.
lie to make me like you by cityboys “It’s become a game, of sorts, to anyone privy to the fact that the pattern exists in the first place: ask Victor out at the beginning of the month, date for however many days, and wait for the end to come and for Victor to say, always: I couldn’t fall in love with you. Let’s break up.” Now the truth is I really could rec all of cityboys fics because they’re all works of art but I told myself to just pick one so this list doesn’t end up 90% them. And this fic. Let me tell you. It’s fucking beautiful. I think the most wonderful aspect of this fic is there’s tension, but there isn’t like extreme angst. The climax of the fic isn’t incredibly stressful, even when there is build up to it. I think it’s truly wonderful. Also this fic singlehandedly got ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” stuck in my head forever. 
Impostor Syndrome by renaissance “At some point, most people with a childhood crush will imagine meeting their idol, and might even pretend that they're dating. This is the story of how Yuuri Katsuki meets his childhood crush, and how they pretend that they're dating.” Alright we need one fake dating AU on here and this is it. This is peak fake dating AU. It doesn’t get any better than this. Everyone else go home. No but seriously this fuckin fake dating AU. has just so much going for it. At the start it seems pretty standard, but the way it develops. HOly shit. Just. Just read it. 
not gold like in your dreams by ebenroot ““Victor, you could have let some psychopath into your apartment.” “Oh come on, he’s not a psychopath,” Victor chides.Christophe makes a gesture with his hand that says ‘are you seriously this naïve or are you drunk at work again?’. “Victor, you don’t know that. You don’t know anything about him. Whose name am I going to give to the police or face I’m going to describe to the sketch artist when they find your body chopped up like Hannibal Lecter’s side dish? ”-- in which Victor and Yuuri are roommates and Yuuri has a secret“ So this. Is a Penelope AU. AKA a movie I never watched, which should be a testament to how good this fucking fic is because damn. Like. You don’t have to see this movie just read this fic. It works fucking perfectly. Yuuri is constantly hiding his face in Viktor’s apartment and doesn’t give his full name, and Viktor is like “this is kinda sketchy but it’s fine” and then romance. I just made this sound so much worse than it is but listen. I was emotional. I felt things. I don’t always feel things but I felt them here. Just read it.
And Miles to Go Before I Sleep by Orchids_and_Fictional_Cities “Katsuki Yuuri has been cursed to spread misery and grief to those who dare to come close to him. Viktor Nikiforov has been sentenced to wander the earth, unable to die, granting wishes to mortals in the hopes that one of them might give his life meaning in exchange. They meet in a tempest of April snow.“ So I just binge read this all in one go. Okay first. it has gorgeous art. Holy shit. Yes. There’s art. And second. This story. The world it built. The atmosphere. The emotions. That fucking beautiful ending. Oh my god. four chapters of just. perfection. Please. Just. Please. Read this. 
Waiting for the Rain by trashy_cas “In which Katsuki Yuuri meets a stranger who also enjoys frequenting empty parks on rainy mornings. Garden of Words AU“ Here’s another fic based on a movie I haven’t seen, and also won’t see because. eww. Creepy age gap. The creepy age gap is obviously not in this fic. I would not put it here if it was. No this fic is just a wonderful atmospheric experience. It really captures that rainy garden mood throughout and when it ends...it feels a little bit like the skies cleared up and the sun shines again. It’s just beautiful. 
Ongoing:
don't want to be lonely (just want to be yours) by Linisy “This time the flesh and blood Yuuri wasn't around to distract him, and he watched the video intently, hypnotized by the swing of Yuuri’s hips, the look in his eyes that burned with intensity and the strong, confident line of his shoulders. Yuuri was, as always, breathtaking. Victor remembered their first meeting well. Yuuri was the last member to join the group. He was soft spoken, and he stood as if he were trying to make himself smaller, shoulders drawn inward, head tilted toward the ground, glasses slipping off his nose. Victor was surprised to hear that he was the second oldest behind Victor himself. Everything changed the first time he saw him dance. - Vitya, Katsu, Yura, Beka and Chu make up the top idol group SVD. They've been through hell together, living in their tiny dorm and working toward the day they'd finally hit it big. That day has finally come, but sometime over the course of the past three years, Victor has fallen in love with Yuuri Katsuki.” Okay so this fic has just started, and it’s an idol AU, but don’t let that turn you away because it’s masterful. It covers like five different POVs and all of them are so distinct. You can really feel the character they switch to. It has so much potential. 
Lullaby of Birdland by Orchids_and_Fictional_Cities “In another world, their story might have started with ‘Hi there’, or ‘Lovely sky tonight’, or ‘Hello, stranger’. Or perhaps something less cliché, something like: ‘A commemorative photo? Sure thing! ’But in this one, it starts with an electric blue cocktail, the taste of smoke in the air. And: “You have really talented, um. Fingers.” --- Yuuri makes music with his body. Victor makes music because that's all he knows. (Or: After his poor performance at the Grand Prix Final, Yuuri is weary but not broken, and decides to give it one last shot. Victor plays piano three nights a week at a small jazz bar near the Detroit Skating Club, and does his best to get by.)” This fic has this one really clever plot point I can’t tell you because spoilers. But I think about it all the time. And you will too probably!! If you read it. I don’t even like jazz but this fic made me like jazz. Also. The feelings are real. The feelings are real and it’s got the atmosphere of a Jazz Club. Fitting considering. 
On Ice, Yuri!!! by octothorpe “Russia’s rising star, Victor Nikiforov, age twenty-three, has just finished his first Grand Prix Final and is gearing up for Serious Training for the next season. Russia’s rising star, Victor Nikiforov, age twenty-three, is currently standing naked in the Yu-Topia onsen, back arched, silver hair flowing, with one arm outstretched toward a very bewildered Yuuri Katsuki.“Yuuri! Hi!” OR The weirdly-canon-but-not-really Reverse AU.“ This is the only reverse AU that matters. Okay. Every other AU was weird in some way, but this one feels...accurate. To everyone. Also it doesn’t feel gross. So there’s that. Everyone feels true to themselves, and it’s “weirdly canon” like they said, so this fic really does feel like the most accurate version of this AU there could be. Everyone is so IC. It’s beautiful.
Rhapsody by FigureSgayts “He's been a star from the beginning. Both of his parents, Yakov, and all those around him, everybody who has seen him skate, knows it. Viktor, however, continues to see himself as nothing but a potential rising star. After all, he's only sixteen and is just making his senior debut. He can't be as good as everybody seems to be making him out to be, ignoring the small (large) collection of gold medals that he has. As such, all he wants to do is focus on improving and living up to the expectations thrown at him on and off the ice. However, only a few months before the start of his first senior Grand Prix series, a sharp blue smears itself right above his clavicle. Only in his dreams can it be bruise. The late appearance of a soulmark is enough to knock Viktor a little off balance mentally. This isn't to say that Viktor will reject his soulmate. In fact, he's willing to go above and beyond to do all he can for whoever they may be, but first, he's going to claw his way to the top. If everybody expects him to be a star, then so be it. He'll be the star that they want, and once he's at the top, nobody will be able to stop him from giving his all to whoever shares his mark. After all, he is Viktor Nikiforov.” It’s a soulmate AU. But it’s also a Viktor backstory fic. AKA it’s a fucking win win y’all. It has everything you could ever want probably. Warning though Viktor is kinda an oblivious dingus at times and you’ll want to just. argh. Viktor please. But listen it’s really good at super worth it okay. 
The Coin, The Stone & The Rose by Silver_Scribbles “Crown Prince Viktor Nikiforov once had the world at his fingertips; he was rich and powerful and handsome, and he had everything his heart desired. Now, he is a Beast, imprisoned by an Enchantress' spell; hiding away from the world in the never-ending winter of his shame. Katsuki Yuuri is . . . odd, to say the least. Beautiful, but odd. While the rest of the villagers put one foot firmly in front of the other, Yuuri would rather loose himself to his dancing and his daydreams; always wishing for something more than his provincial life. Each is captive to circumstances beyond their control; trapped by unbreakable spells and impossible dreams. However, an unlikely meeting is about to change everything. Hope makes a final play for their salvation as the sands of time run out; but as Yuuri and Viktor learn to find themselves in one another, they also make discoveries that they're completely unprepared for . . . some wondrous, some wretched . . . and some treacherous enough to permanently tear them apart. For who could ever learn to love a Beast?“ Fuckin I don’t like beauty and the beast as like. a movie. And everyone who’s tried this AU up until this fic was doing it wrong with all the bad things about the movie. But this fic!!!! It takes the basic premise (a prince turned into a beast that can only be saved by true love) and keeps everyone in character. No fucking uncontrollable rage outbursts from Viktor. Everyone is just how they should be, and there’s none of the fucking Bad tropes that were in the original movie. It’s basically what the movie should have been. Basically. 
This Conversation by RedTwice “Somewhere along his journey to share himself with the world, Yuuri finds himself travelling to Detroit to train with the world-renowned ice skating coach Celestino Cialdini. There’s just one small problem: Christophe Giacometti’s coach has retired earlier than anyone expected, leading the young skater to Celestino’s door as another full-time student. Yuuri slowly befriends Christophe as they train for the senior circuits together, and finds that this friendship is bringing out parts of himself he never expected to find, for better or worse. Or: Christophe joins Yuuri in Detroit from the beginning, and leads Yuuri down a six-year-long path of self-discovery.“ Do you want a fic where Chris and Yuuri are friends. Do you. Because. This is that fic. The viktuuri hasn’t happened yet but it will, but listen, if you also want that good friendship content. Read this. Read it. Just do it. Just. Read. 
Trade Your Heroes For Ghosts by Naamah_Beherit “Having endured what was probably the worst day of his life followed by a night he does not remember, Yuuri wakes up with a hangover of the century and a desperate plea for the world to forget about his existence. Alas, the world has other plans. So does a certain Russian skater.“ Okay so like. Here’s a great canon divergence AU where Yuuri finds out immediately about the banquet. ANd it’s just. wonderful. it’s just great. Listen. Listen okay secretly all of you have wanted this. I know. I understand. But listen. It’s here okay. You can read it. It’s super good. It makes you feel good inside. All kinds of feelings. Don’t you like feelings? no probably not BUT THEY’RE GOOD FEELINGS.
And finally, everything by komagayda. (Yes Noa. It’s your turn). Everything he write is IC, and while they’re all “weird AUs” don’t we all need weird AUs? Yes. Yes we do. The workings of the worlds he’s built are so fascinating and fun, and the super accurate characterization just brings everything to life. It’s beautiful. ALso. mlm fics written by an actual mlm???? it’s more likely than you think. I couldn’t pick one fic like I did for cityboys because I’d feel like a fucking liar. And I didn’t want this to also be even longer with every single fic. So we’re just gonna do this all at once kids. It’s great. Noa is a great author. 100000000000/10. Get on reading his shit. 
And there you go. Enjoy the good content. Your welcome. 
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ais-n · 7 years
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Julian Files chapter 7
Julian Files master list + what is it?
There’s a lot I was going to say about the 2 month gap between posting the last update in this book, and why, and how this book is super draft mode. It takes too long to explain, though, so I may post it separately. For now I will just say:
I MAY NEED JULIAN FILES BETA READERS!
If you are interested, let me know--especially if you are a Boyd and/or Vivienne fan because you may have paid attention to details I might have forgotten in our many reworkings of ICoS.
As for this chapter, it’s one that some of you may have been waiting for, and others maybe never wanted to read.
Julian Files Chapter 7
Sunday July 17, 2005 Cedar Hills neighborhood Lexington, PA
Vivienne knelt in the dusty attic, the only place she felt safe from prying eyes. Her gaze, as always, strayed to the box that held her deepest treasure. And, as always, she made her gaze move away.
She had chosen her path and she did not regret it. She did not make choices lightly, and refused to question actions she had made to the best of her ability at any given time. Doubt was the path toward self destruction, as far as she was concerned; the path that only the weak and insecure took.
Still, there were days that drew her up here again, away from her husband, away the child that haunted this house. Up, up to where she could breathe freely with the trapdoor shut and the darkness surrounding her in comfort.
Cedrick was asleep, as was their son. Although Cedrick had difficulty falling asleep, once he achieved it he could sleep through anything. Their son never strayed from bed once he had settled in--whether it was because he slept through noises or was intelligent enough to not bother anyone, she did not know. It was a small thing she could be grateful for on nights like this. A small thing she wished could be part of a greater whole, but no matter how hard she tried it didn’t seem to happen.
When he had first come screaming into her arms, she had felt a detachment she had never expected. Exhaustion and a need to get away. From when he had been growing inside her to even now, years later, there were days on end where she barely wished to eat. Days where she found solace at her work because it was easier to concentrate on her expectations as a professional than it was to confront her inability to be the perfect mother, or even a proper mother at all. She was used to excelling at what she put her mind toward, yet her inability to meet even the most basic of expectations of motherhood felt like a betrayal; whether of her own mind and body, or of society, or of her son, or anything else, she could not always decide.
Perhaps it had been that or something else that had made his red, crying face bring to mind the image of the Nain Rouge. Vivienne had once met a woman from Detroit who, upon learning Vivienne was French, had talked at length about the Nain Rouge and how she viewed it.
Harbinger of doom, she called it. And Vivienne’s first sight of her only child had brought that swiftly to mind.
Vivienne had tried to ignore the thought, but perhaps her addled mind had known best. Only days later, the war had taken Vivienne’s family, and everything had twisted in Vivienne’s life from then on.
It was in memory of that family that she was here now.
As had been the case since she had birthed that child, she had been unable to sleep; caught forever in the shroud between dreams and the waking world. That restlessness had drawn her from the warmth of Cedrick’s side, down the quiet hallway, up the stairs, up the ladder, to sit with her knees pulled to her chest, where her gaze was drawn again, again to that box.
It was Amy’s birthday.
Did Cedrick remember this and pointedly not speak of it each year? Or had he forgotten, now that the date no longer held significance?
It would always be meaningful to Vivienne.
Today, Amy would have turned fifty. Today, Vivienne would have insisted on bringing her somewhere special; buying her something beautiful. She would have made Amy breakfast if Braeden or Cedrick had not. She would have sat by her side and felt the comfort of her presence.
.In a world that had not seemed ready to accept Vivienne since the sudden death of her parents when she was eight years old, Vivienne had grown accustomed to keeping everyone at a distance. She had come to expect negativity sent her way. It no longer bothered her, because her grandmother’s lessons had worked. Mireille had taught Vivienne how to live in a world like this and how to rise above it. To not care what others thought, so she could be free to do what she believed was best
Life is war, her grandmother had told her since she was brought, orphaned, to Mireille’s Parisian home. Do not lose yourself in the battles. Think always of the long strategy. If you plan ahead, you will always win.
She had taught Vivienne all of that, and yet a part of Vivienne had never stopped aching for the loving warmth she remembered of her mother’s arms. A part of her could not stop being that eight year old child, with the last memory of parents who smiled at her and held her close and sang soft, sweet French lullabies when she was tired or scared. She could not forget her mother, who had taught her how to ride her first horse, or her father who had given her a colt and had stayed by her side that first time she climbed astride, his hands spread to catch her if she should fall. A colt she had childishly named Venteux, for the feeling of the wind rushing past her when she rode.
No matter how hard Vivienne had tried, she could not make those memories disappear. No matter how much Mireille had helped her, that piece of Vivienne would not leave.
Still, Vivienne had thought she had successfully buried those memories, that past weak and vulnerable self, until she had walked into Cedrick’s childhood home for the first time.
Until she had met his mother Amy.
The bright smile that had filled Amy’s features; the open arms that had been there immediately, engulfing Vivienne before she had a chance to speak. That warm voice in her ear welcoming her with the Québécois accent Vivienne had teased Cedrick about in Paris. Amy’s accent was even a bit different than that, retaining a touch of her American Northeastern drawl pulling the vowels and consonants into a new shape.
She remembered the way Amy had anticipated Vivienne’s needs: the cup of tea or coffee she made before Vivienne even thought to ask; the presence of a woman at her side who understood, who didn’t judge, on the nights Vivienne had cried endlessly about her pregnancy and had been too scared to let Cedrick see.
The mother Vivienne had yearned for since her own had died, her birth mother denigrated by her grandmother again and again until Vivienne had thought love could only be a weakness, and idealism the greatest of crimes.
But then Cedrick had come into her life and he had brought his family with, and Vivienne had known the warmth of belonging again. She had known she wasn’t alone in this world, in this war known as life.
She had been wrong, perhaps, to believe in that future.
She had been foolish, it seemed, to forget her grandmother’s warnings.
It had all started with that Nain Rouge.
Child of misfortune; soulless it seemed at times, with eyes that burned their way through everything. Staring endlessly as a demon might at a city to learn and mimic human behavior.
She didn’t believe in demons; not really. She didn’t truly think him of the devil. There was nothing supernatural at work, in all likelihood.
And yet.
And yet, every hatred that had been visited upon her externally or internally, every loss she held gathered in empty arms, she felt could be tied back to the moment that child was conceived in thought. And most especially after he had been birthed into this world.
It was true that the hatred had started far earlier; true the loss had gone back to her childhood, long before he existed. But those small and large sufferings had happened in another country, what felt like another world and another life now far removed from her own.
Here was where she was supposed to have a new chance. Here, in North America.
And here was where he had made Amy die.
Cedrick’s family would have been safely in Canada if not for Boyd. They would not have been in Lexington, in that neighborhood where the bombs destroyed everything, if he had not been born the day he was born.
His birth was the dawn of the death of everyone Vivienne had left to love.
The bare light bulb moved subtly in a breeze she could never feel. The silence of this span of the house was refreshing and complete. The pressure she felt every waking moment, the suffocation of breathing, of existing, of moving through the everyday battle of life, felt at home here in this claustrophobic corner of their home.
She could see the war of life play out here, again and again, and here she could pause between the battles for fugitive, ephemeral rest.
And so this war had led her here, alone in a dusty attic, perched against a wall with her long hair catching and holding onto the rough wood. And she squeezed her tired, burning eyes shut to keep them from drifting again, again, to that box.
She had arrived in Paris with so little to her name; with only one item from her dead parents. She had left France, disowned, with so little in her possession.
But there was one thing she had been certain to bring. One trinket; the only gift she had left from her mother Alette.
She had wanted something from her grandmother who had been kind and loving, Alette’s mother Éliane who had joyfully shouted encouragement when Vivienne had rushed by on Venteux’s back. But Éliane had not wanted her, Mireille had told Vivienne; not after Alette was gone. And then Éliane had died. Like she deserved, Mireille had said, for birthing that demon Alette into the world.
Vivienne had not been permitted to bring any memories of Éliane or her mother to her new home. The only reason Mireille had let her keep her last and, now, only gift from her mother was because Vivienne had told Mireille it came from her father Jacques; from Mireille’s beloved son.
Everything else was gone; pared down to that singular souvenir now turned, unerringly, into a legacy.
Everything that mattered to that eight year old girl who had been told her parents were dead and now she had to move across the country to an estranged grandmother—everything for her was in that box.
Vivienne had thought she would show Amy, one day, this gift from her mother. She had believed, one day, she could see what her new mother thought of it.
That would never happen now.
Both of Vivienne’s mothers were dead.
Vivienne opened her eyes and watched the dust dance and gather in the yellow swatch of light.
“Joyeux anniversaire,” she whispered, a dry and catching voice in the night. “Je t’aime, maman.”
She pulled her legs closer to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. She fell quiet, contemplative, and then continued the tradition she had secretly created from the time Amy had died.
There was no body for them to mourn; no true grave she could visit. Cedrick observed the anniversary of his family’s death, but Vivienne thought it was important, too, to remember the anniversary of his mother’s life.
And so, even though she was well aware Amy was dead and disintegrated and decomposed back into the earth, every year on July 17 she murmured about her day, about the past year of her life since she had last updated Amy.
Today, she told Amy about Boyd’s lessons, because she knew Amy would have loved to know. After all, Amy had once promised a shaking and frightened nineteen-year-old Vivienne, who had whispered her deepest fear that the dark and twisted feeling she felt during her pregnancy would never leave and she would never be capable of loving that child the way a mother was supposed to—Amy had promised that terrified and ashamed Vivienne that it would get better, and if it didn’t then Amy would be there for her. She had promised that vulnerable Vivienne that she would help.
She had promised that anxious Vivienne that she would not navigate this frightening path alone. No matter what. Because Vivienne would always have a friend and mother in Amy.
That promise had burned to ash alongside Amy’s body. But Vivienne still spoke to a ghost she didn’t believe in, because she did believe in the kindness of that woman’s soul when she had lived.
“He excels at French,” she told that sightless soul now in French. “I hardly need teach him a word before he integrates it and understands its nuances.” She turned her head so her cheek caught against the thin fabric of her night dress. Her eyes strayed, again, to the box. “He’s very intelligent. Cedrick is proud. He’s certain he’s ahead of his age, and I agree. I believe it is likely he will…”
Her words faded, lost in the comforting compression of the night. The sentence she had planned to form was gone as if it had never existed, and her mind undulated with the change.
She could not lie to Amy, whether she was ghost or human; whether she lived or was lost. It had always been that way. Such had been the unending comfort of Amy, knowing she had that support.
Cedrick loved Vivienne. He saw someone human, when everyone else had only ever seen a beast. When her own grandmother had treated her as if she were inhuman. Cedrick always took all of her words, no matter how cutting or short they may be, and he transformed them into things of beauty that made her believe even in her own humanity. He reflected back to her a woman worth loving, not worth leaving.
And it was for that reason there were some truths she was too terrified to ever tell him. I do not want a child. I never want to be a mother. I cannot be a mother. I have always loathed the idea. I have always found it demeaning and frightening. I have never wanted to be burdened by that responsibility. It was always the life I said I absolutely did not want. I told my grandmother again and again, no, no, when she said it was inevitable and she would form my future around it-- when she tried to take away my control and wished to force it on me, I said no, no, never, no.
Words she had never been able to say to him, caught and caustic in her throat; corrosive in her heart.
Words she had let leave, quaking, from her lips only ever in the protective presence of Amy, far from the ears of anyone else.
Amy had listened. Amy had not condemned her. Amy had not said all the words everyone else had ever said for why a woman could not dare say that; why it was not allowed to want her own life, or a life with a husband, without the requirement of a child in that future.
Why a woman was only as good as her womb.
Her entire meaning and life and personality and dreams, siphoned down to be judged by the usage of one organ.
Amy had listened.
Amy had hoped the love would come, and had promised to aid even if it didn’t.
Amy had let her be truthful, raw and vulnerable and revealing of all her undesirable parts, in a way even Cedrick could not fulfill because Vivienne was too frightened of the idea of losing his love. The love she had left everything in her life to pursue.
And so here, this night, the night of Amy’s birth fifty years ago, Vivienne could not continue with that superficial update when so many other words crowded her lungs.
“Amy,” she said quietly, and should have been horrified to hear her voice crack. Would have been, if not for that shroud descending again so heavily on her throat; her heart; her mind.
It was a welcome distance; a wall that separated her from the wild depth of emotions. Something she had once viewed with freedom, that independence of feeling, that capability of extreme emotions, but now in her maturity she knew to be folly.
Mireille had taught her that feelings, that love and emotions, were weaknesses. Unprotected joins in the armor that kept her safe in the war of life. The quickest path to failure.
And yet…
“I wanted to feel that love.”
She hadn’t wanted to say it aloud, hadn’t meant to, but for as quiet as the sounds were, it ripped her apart inside. She pressed cold palms into the heat of her closed eyes, her back curved gently against the dark.
“I never wanted him but when I knew I had to have him, I wanted it to change. I wanted—I wanted to understand. I wanted one piece of my life to not be a struggle, looking from the outside in. I wanted to hold him and hold no grudges, I wanted to feel the joy Cedrick did, I wanted…”
She sucked in a breath, thin and sharp and cutting.
“But I don’t know how, Amy. I don’t.” She felt her dry eyes grow heavy. Maybe another person would have cried but she couldn’t. “I don’t. My grandmother taught me to be strong, not weak. She taught me to deny all this. I don’t know what it is to be a mother. I only know how to be a warrior. I love Cedrick, I could leave everything for him, but I don’t know how to feel love that isn’t there. I don’t know how to force myself to not—”
—be a monster.
The words were unbidden in her mind, held close by the clawed fingers of her memories. Her grandmother’s voice, soothing in her ears.
Monster, Vivienne, you are nothing but a—
She stopped herself, pulsed her fingers to feel the dig of her fingernails into her palms, and dropped her arms to her side. Felt the catch of the floor against her skin. She stayed there, a still statue, every muscle taut as she fought to regain the control she briefly let herself lose.
It took time.
A deep breath in and another out.
Again.
Again.
With the surge of emotion leaving, she felt emptied out and exhausted. It was a feeling as corrosively comforting as it was familiar, and yet...
She didn’t say the words she was thinking:
You were supposed to save me from this. You were supposed to be here to guide me. I thought you could be his mother if I could not. I thought, with you, we could all find relief. I hoped we could all be happy. I need you but you aren’t here.
Instead, she said another truth; one just as deep but not as painful. Something else to tell Amy, a calmer truth to forget what she almost had said aloud.
“Lately, I struggle.”
She watched the light move with more life along the worn wooden floor than she felt lately in her own heart.
“I can’t sleep at night. I wake, again and again, and in the morning it’s difficult to rise. For more than this reason, during the day I am so tired. I spend all my energy at my work, and when I return I don’t want to think, or move. When I see Cedrick and Boyd so easily able to interact, when I watch them share smiles I cannot join, I feel lost in my own family. I feel peripheral. I begin to fear losing Cedrick’s love; his strength. Without you here to support me, I fear it will happen. I feel so tired all the time, and yet I still cannot sleep.”
The dust settled slowly, gracefully, to the floor.
“It’s a cycle I have felt many times since you left. I felt it, too, when Boyd was growing inside me. There are days I have no troubles, and everything feels right. And there are days I wonder how long this will stay until I can be free of it.” She closed her eyes, and let the disquiet take hold of her words.
“Will I be free of it, maman? Or is this another war I must fight as long as I live?”
There was no answer, and she did not expect one. She voiced the doubts to the confessional of death, and knew no advice would ever break that hold.
Maybe Amy would have known the answer. Maybe she would have told Vivienne what to do. But she was gone and only Vivienne and Mireille remained.
But Vivienne could not ask Mireille, either. Vivienne’s grandmother had made it incredibly clear when Vivienne had left that she was disgusted with her; that Vivienne was truly orphaned, now, with no family anywhere in France. No name and no money, no ancestry to call her own. Mireille had told her that choosing Cedrick would only see her burned, and had warned that she didn’t want to hear Vivienne come crying to her when everything inevitably fell apart.
You walk out that door, Vivienne, Mireille had said, and you are stricken from this family tree. My only granddaughter died with her father, I will tell everyone. Died at the hands of her worthless mother.
Vivienne pulled in a breath, let it flood her dusty lungs, and let it out as a fraying sigh. She wished she had a candle with her but it had been too much to remember, this night, when the restlessness of insomnia had dragged her too close, too often, to the surface.
Tomorrow, she told herself, she would don the armor fully again. Tomorrow, she would keep close the lessons her grandmother had given her. Tomorrow, she would rely on that distance to return her to her rightful self. Tomorrow, she would be the person she was meant to be; the person who did not fear or question the troubled edges of her mind.
Tomorrow, she would be ready once more for war.
But tonight—tonight, even in waking, she would let herself dream.
She closed her eyes and pushed her head harder against the unfinished attic wall. Felt the stinging nettling of her hair catching in splinters and gaps.
She imagined a cake on a table, and Amy and Braeden and Cedrick standing around it. She left Riley out because she liked to forget he existed, but Aiden could be there instead. She imagined a candle, flickering and bright, casting shadows away from Amy’s smile, lending warmth back into rigor mortis; life back into death.
She waited until they were firm in her mind, and then into that clustered dusk she sang a song of birthday wishes.
“Bon anniversaire, nos voeux les plus sincères. Que ces quelques fleurs, vous apportent le bonheur… Que l'année entière, vous soit douce et légère. Et que l'an fini, nous soyons tous réunis. Pour chanter en choeur… Bon anniversaire…”
The words drifted into the dark; a distant, low-breath melody that could hold no truth against reality; no buoyancy in the shadowy depths.
There would be no other years; no happiness waiting, nor flowers to come. There was no one to sing along with her, because she did not want to hurt the only person who would have remembered.
So she stayed alone in the attic, wishing she could be surrounded by the ghosts of the family who had believed in her.
But they were gone forever.
Fading memories of a time she would give anything to regain, yet her ‘anything’ would never be anywhere near enough.
Let go.
As always, she had to let go.
“Adieu, maman,” she whispered.
When she stood, already she felt the armor pulling back into place.
When she opened the trapdoor that led back down to the house, she felt reality flooding back, bringing with it a sense of certainty she felt for most of her life but allowed herself to lose, just a little, when she was up here alone in the dark.
When she reached up and pulled the switch on the light, she imagined Amy blowing out that candle and fading, like everything else, back into the black.
It would be another year until Vivienne would let herself feel that vulnerability again.
Another year until she breathed doubt into the dark; whispering confessions and questions to a mother long dead.
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hermanwatts · 4 years
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Science Fiction New Releases: 18 April, 2020
This week’s science fiction new releases features Robert Heinlein’s newest novel, a collection of Poul Anderson sword and planet tales, the return of one of indie science fiction’s pioneers in the Spinward Fringe, an even weirder Austin, Texas (if that’s even possible), and more.
Bastion of the Reaper (The Last Reaper #10) – J. N. Chaney and Scott Moon
Halek Cain has one chance to save everyone.
The Alon Empire has redoubled its efforts to conquer Yansden and strip the planet bare. Their massive fleet devours every star system it encounters. They demand total surrender and show no mercy. The Neverseen are rising from the forests, oceans, and desert wilderness and thirsty for blood. Cain and his allies have stopped both of these enemies once, but their backs are to the wall and they must escape or die.
Recently acquired from the ancient ruins in the planet’s interior, the Black Phoenix grows more powerful every day, draining Cain and X-37 of resources even as it gives them the tools to win battles and find Maglan.
But winning might kill them both in the end.
Will Cain master himself and his cybernetic modifications to run the blockade? Can he find Maglan and liberate one Sansein in return for an alliance that will protect the exodus fleet forever?
Culture Shock (The Gunn Files Book 1) – M. G. Herron
Aliens are among us, and Austin, Texas just got a whole lot weirder.
When smart-aleck, down-on-his-luck bounty hunter Anderson Gunn snags his next job, he’s just happy to get the gig. The target he’s chasing may be wanted for murder, but his bills aren’t going to pay themselves.
As it turns out, he probably should’ve been more selective. When he tracks down Cameron Kovak, the wanted man turns out to be no man at all.
Gunn finds himself face to face with a tentacled creature out of Ridley Scott’s worst nightmare – a baby Cthulhu, wearing his target’s skin like a onesie. And that’s just the start of it. Aliens have their eyes on us, and Gunn finds himself swept up in their mysterious plans.
Guardian Outcast (Star Scavenger Series #1) – G. J. Ogden
Hudson Powell had always been a drifter, but after his father died he vowed to turn his life around. He quit freelancing as a starship pilot and joined the Relic Guardian Force as a 38-year-old rookie.
That was a big mistake.
The RGF police the alien wrecks that have been found on every portal world discovered in the last century. They make sure the relic hunters pay taxes on the priceless alien tech they scavenge from the hulks. The snag is that the RGF is corrupt. And Hudson’s training officer, Logan Griff, is the worst scumbag of the lot.
Pushed over the edge, Hudson stumbles upon the exhilarating world of the relic hunters and meets the equally intoxicating and deadly mercenary, Tory Bellona.
Cast out from the RGF, Hudson Powell chooses a new path. But the discovery of a unique alien crystal will set events in motion that cannot be undone.
People stopped asking where the alien hulks had come from. People stopped asking who created the portals, and why. Hudson will discover that some alien relics are best left buried.
One decision can change the course of an entire civilization. One discovery can change your life.
I, Earthling (Soldiers of Earthrise #4) – Daniel Arenson
The war roars toward its bloody crescendo.
Armies muster for the final battle.
On one side fights Earth. Mighty. Wealthy. The center of an empire. On the other side: Bahay. A humble planet. A backwater. A world whose people will never surrender.
Jon and Maria fight on opposite sides. But to end the violence, they must work together. The very fate of humanity depends on it.
Yet the fires burn so hot. The hatred runs so deep. As the climactic battle flares, as the bombs fall and the cannons boom, can Jon and Maria survive? Or will this war rip them apart?
The Pursuit of the Pankera – Robert A. Heinlein
Robert A. Heinlein wrote The Number of the Beast, which was published in 1980. In the book Zeb, Deety, Hilda and Jake are ambushed by the alien “Black Hats” and barely escape with their lives on a specially configured vehicle (the Gay Deceiver) which can travel along various planes of existence, allowing them to visit parallel universes.
However, unknown to most fans, Heinlein had already written a “parallel” novel about the four characters and parallel universes in 1977. He effectively wrote two parallel novels about parallel universes. The novels share the same start, but as soon as the Gay Deceiver is used to transport them to a parallel universe, each book transports them to a totally different parallel world.
From that point on the plot lines diverge completely. While The Number of the Beast morphs into something very different, more representative of later Heinlein works, The Pursuit of the Pankera remains on target with a much more traditional Heinleinesque storyline and ending, reminiscent of his earlier works.
And here it finally is: Robert A. Heinlein’s audacious experiment. A fitting farewell from one of the most inventive science fiction writers to have ever lived: a parallel novel about parallel universes as well as a great adventure pitting the forces of good versus evil only the way Heinlein could do.
Rebel (Spinward Fringe: Broadcast #14) – Randolph Lalonde
The invasion has changed everything for Haven Fleet and the citizens they protect. More than ever the Order of Eden seems to be everywhere, hanging over our heroes like a menacing cloud as they face new challenges and try to keep the fleet from falling apart.
A resistance group led by Stephanie Vega and Shamus Frost on the Tamber moon struggles to fight Wheeler and the Order of Eden as another small group of fighters led by Jacob Valent and Admiral Rice plan a daring attack that they hope will devastate their enemies and free their people. Will it pay off, or will the price they pay for resistance be too high?
The leadership of Haven Fleet must try or orchestrate all its efforts and expand before the Order of Eden or Edxi catch them. All the while, an old force in the galaxy stirs and no one knows which side they’ll turn against.
Salvation (Rise #2) – Nathan Hystad and Devon C. Ford
The peace doesn’t last long…
With the newly received schematics of the Gateway from Detroit, Tom and Alec head to the west coast to recruit more manpower, but find that not everyone is willing to rise against the Overseers.
On Tom’s orders, Cole travels to Chicago to uncover a hidden enclave of Roamers. Meanwhile, Lina must convince pockets of Freeborn to join the Reclaimer’s cause.
Dex is forced to return to the Occupation and lie about his recent whereabouts. He sets off on a covert task that’s pertinent to the Reclaimer’s success.
Swordsmen from the Stars – Poul Anderson
Poul Anderson is one of the most celebrated authors of science fiction and fantasy. He combines elements of both genres in the three novellas presented here, which have never been collected in one book before. Heroic science fantasy at its best!
WITCH OF THE DEMON SEAS—Guide a black galleon to the lost, fear-haunted citadel of the Xanthi wizards—into the very jaws of Doom? Corun, condemned pirate of Conahur, laughed. Aye, he’d do it, and gladly. It would mean a reprieve from the headman’s axe—a few more precious moments of life and love… though his lover be a witch!
THE VIRGIN OF VALKARION—Tonight, so spake the Temple Prophecy, a sword-scarred Outlander would come riding, a Queen would play the tavern bawd, and the Thirty-Ninth Dynasty should fall with the Mating of the Moons!
SWORDSMAN OF LOST TERRA—Proud Kery of Broina felt like a ghost himself; shade of a madman flitting hopelessly to the citadel of Earth’s disinherited to recapture the fierce, resonant Pipes of Killorn—weapon of the gods—before they blared out the dirge of the world!
Science Fiction New Releases: 18 April, 2020 published first on https://sixchexus.weebly.com/
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deniscollins · 4 years
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In a Homecoming Video Meant to Unite Campus, Almost Everyone Was White
This fall, more than 30,000 undergraduates began the school year at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Fewer than 1,000 of them are African-American (3.3%). Statewide African-Americans are 6.7% of Wisconsin population. The university homecoming committee created a video on school spirit where virtually every student is white. If you were an administrator what actions if any, would you take? Why? What are the ethics underlying your decision?
The video was just two minutes long: a sunny montage of life at the University of Wisconsin’s flagship campus in Madison. Here were hundreds of young men and women cheering at a football game, dancing in unison, riding bicycles in a sleek line, “throwing the W” for the camera, singing a cappella, leaping into a lake.
“Home is where we grow together,” a voice-over said. “It’s where the hills are. It’s eating our favorite foods. It’s where we can all harmonize as one. Home is Wisconsin cheese curds. It’s welcoming everyone into our home.”
Days before Homecoming Week, the student homecoming committee, tasked with producing the video, posted it online. The outrage was almost instantaneous. Virtually every student in the video was white.
This is the story of a video that galvanized and divided a university plagued by a history of racist incidents, as told by the people who saw it happen. Black students in particular say the homecoming video crystallized a daily fact of life: They feel they are not wanted at the University of Wisconsin, where there are significantly fewer African-Americans per capita than in the state, which is mostly white. This fall, more than 30,000 undergraduates began the school year at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Fewer than 1,000 of them are African-American.
On the first day of classes in September, to get a deeper understanding of life on a college campus, we began interviewing students in Madison about their academic aspirations, about race, about free speech, debt and relationships. By the end of September, reaction to the homecoming video erupted, and our conversations with students throughout the fall semester began to be dominated by the topic, a window into their complicated and evolving views on race.
To students of color, the homecoming video was a glimpse of what they experienced every day as they walked through campus. The video prompted a burst of student activism, an attempt by university officials to educate about diversity and a reckoning over who feels at home at the University of Wisconsin.
Here is how the episode unfolded.
LATE SEPTEMBER
‘It Woke People Up’
The video was never supposed to attract much attention.
The homecoming committee, a group of several dozen students, has a simple mission: celebrating the university during Homecoming Week with a string of events including a 5K run, blood drive and parade.
A video would boost the promotional aspect of it all, the students decided, a short, visual ode to school spirit. The committee enlisted student organizations to be filmed — among them Alpha Kappa Alpha, a historically black sorority.
At the end of September, the video was finished and posted on Facebook. No one expected it to be seen very widely.
One evening, a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha noticed that the video had been posted online.
Payton Wade, 21, a senior and member of Alpha Kappa Alpha: We were tagged on Facebook when they said a “thank you” to all of the organizations who participated in the video. And I watched the video and I realized that we weren’t in it.
Olivia Lopez, 22, a senior from Milwaukee who identifies as biracial: People started talking about it Monday, and they actually took it down off their website and their Facebook. But a couple of our peers had screen recorded it so that people could still see it and know what all the uproar was about.
Payton Wade’s Facebook page:
I am sharing this post because the Epsilon Delta Chapter of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc. was asked to participate in this video and explain what we thought “home is” here at UW-Madison. Not only did we tell them what we thought home was but we also took hours out of our day to film as well and were told we would be in the video and notified when it was completed.
UW-Madison is home to students who see Black students as less than and unfit to be at this university. UW-Madison is home to Black students who fear for their safety because of the color of their skin.
Olivia Lopez: I was just like, how did they not realize how wrong this is?
Soon, the homecoming committee issued an apology.
Statement from the homecoming committee:
To promote student Homecoming, we recently produced a video called “Home Is Where WI Are,” and we invited various student groups to participate in the video. Unfortunately, not all the video images produced were included in the final product, including those of students from under represented populations.
We regret omitting those images and we recognized that, by doing so, we unintentionally caused hurt to members of our campus community.
We are sorry that our video failed to show the full breadth of the university experience and made members of our community feel excluded.
Students of color were upset, the university’s administration was scrambling and even many white students agreed that members of Alpha Kappa Alpha should have been included. But the video stirred a different feeling, too.
Emilie Cochran, a reporter for The Badger Herald student newspaper who covered the story: It made people uncomfortable, seeing a lot of people who look alike representing the university. And it woke people up, saying, this is actually what our university looks like.
TWO WEEKENDS LATER
‘You’re Trying to Fix Things’
The video had been deleted for more than a week, but it would not go away.
Copies that students had made were watched on phones in dorms, coffee shops and the student union. Campus newspapers covered the story, and so did The Wisconsin State Journal, in which a headline declared, “UW-Madison Apologizes for Now-Deleted Homecoming Video of Nearly All-White Student Body.” The students of the Homecoming Committee continued with their planned week of events before the homecoming football game, hoping the furor would die down.
Students of color pushed in the other direction. They formed a group called the Student Inclusion Coalition. Their suggestion was to use the upcoming game to address outrage over the video. The administration agreed to help make a new video. This one would feature students of color — and it would be broadcast at halftime.
As tens of thousands of students and alumni were gathered at Camp Randall Stadium to watch the Badgers face off against Michigan State University, the new video began to play:
Kingsley-Reigne Pissang, 21, a senior and president of Alpha Kappa Alpha, who narrated the new video’s voice-over: I’m originally from Detroit, Michigan, and my family came up for the Michigan State game. My mom went to Michigan State, my uncle went to Michigan State, and so it was really like a family affair. When it came on, my aunt was kind of watching, and I took a video of her reacting to it. And at the end my mom was just like, ‘Was that you?’ It was just like watching their faces kind of brighten up and seeing that support system, of just how great it is, that impact. That’s going to be something that sticks with me forever.
Emilie Springsteen, 18, a freshman theater major who is white, from Cumberland, Wis.: All of us, the whole student section, almost started laughing at it. We were just staring at it with disgust, almost as if, O.K., you’re trying to fix things.
Nile Lansana, 22, a junior and poet who is black, from Chicago: For people who didn’t exactly know what was going on, they’re like, “Oh, yeah, that’s cute. People of color. Yay!” But for people who do know what was going on, I feel like the university might try to use that as an excuse to say, “Oh, O.K., we did this for y’all. Now let’s go back to our regularly scheduled programming.”
Ms. Pissang, the student who narrated the new video, said she hoped to eventually feel the same deep sense of loyalty to the University of Wisconsin that her relatives clearly have for their alma mater, Michigan State. But she said she just was not sure that she would ever feel that way.
Kingsley-Reigne Pissang: I would like to feel the pride of that, of saying, yeah, I am a Badger. That would be great.
Emilie Springsteen: I feel like on this campus, everyone has always been viewed as such an equal. And that’s part of why I picked it. Because this campus, as far as I had known, had basically gotten rid of the minority terms. They were everyone’s an equal. This is what we stand for. We are UW. There was a whole movement about it and that was really cool. And now this happened.
SIX DAYS LATER
‘A Big Explosion of Racial Tension’
The campus woke up to a message, scrawled in black.
Someone had taken a copy of The Daily Cardinal, a student newspaper, and written a message on it in large block letters: “UW 4 WHITES ONLY!”
The newspaper was taped outside Science Hall, a stately red brick building on campus, and it stunned the first people who saw it. The response from the university was swift.
At 6:46 a.m., the @UWMadison Twitter account wrote:
UW stands against hate and racism. We’re aware that, last night, a racist message was posted on a building sign outside Science Hall. We are removing this message and any others and @UWMadisonPolice is investigating.
That morning, more signs were discovered around campus. One read, “UW DON’T CARE ABOUT BLACK PEOPLE.” Another read, “I’M TIRED OF HAVING TO TEACH MY TEACHERS.”
Soon, the university released a new statement, which read, in part:
These posters appear now to be part of a coordinated campaign calling attention to experiences of underrepresented students.
The Student Inclusion Coalition said it had not orchestrated the campaign. University officials have declined to identify the people involved.
But the campus was shaken and confused once again. Some students argued that whoever posted the signs should be punished for inflaming racial tensions. Others said it was a clumsy protest that was born of frustration. No one claimed responsibility by name, but a group of anonymous students issued a public apology.
Nile Lansana: I think it was poorly executed and poorly worded. I know for me, and it’s not really like this matters, but when I heard about it, I definitely thought that it was a white person doing it. And then when I found out it wasn’t, I was like, O.K., I get where you were.
John Lucas, university spokesman: It was not a hate or bias act. It was more an act of student activism or protest.
Nile Lansana: I don’t think that it’s an inaccurate representation of how folks of color are feeling right now. These first two months have been a big explosion of racial tension.
ONE WEEK LATER
‘If You Don’t Like It, Then Leave’
For decades, the University of Wisconsin has been a hotbed of political activism, and in that tradition, members of the Student Inclusion Coalition decided it was time for a protest.
On a Friday in October, they dressed in black and gathered on top of Bascom Hill, a spot with sweeping views of the campus and the granite dome of the State Capitol.
The location was laden with meaning. They stood outside Bascom Hall, the building that houses the university chancellor’s office, near a cherished statue of Abraham Lincoln that, according to campus legend, brings students good luck.
Hundreds of student protesters linked arms and held signs. Dozens more stopped to watch or join in as they walked by on their way to class; but to other students, the demonstration was alarming and difficult to process.
Students representing S.I.C., in unison: What are we sick of? UW! What are we sick of? UW!
Carson Biber, a freshman business major who is white and from Cedarburg, Wis.: When you hear like, oh, ‘Did you hear about those protests on campus?’ I was like, ‘What bad happened now?’
Emilie Springsteen: One of my friends, she has a class in Bascom. And she was in there and her lecture hall faces out. And she saw a whole bunch of people out there with signs and things. And I know she told me what they were protesting — I think they were protesting the school. They were bashing our school. And I was like, you go here. Why are you? They’re like, “UW sucks.” And I was like, why are you bashing our college? If you’re a student here, you can leave.
Lori Reesor, a top university official, has an office inside Bascom Hall, in a sunny room with a bowl of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups that she offers to visitors.
Since the homecoming video episode began, Ms. Reesor had been at the center of the university’s response. She and the university’s chief diversity officer, Patrick Sims, have met with student leaders and listened to their proposals for how the university could be more welcoming to students of color. Given the nature of a college campus, she said later, it is work that repeats itself.
Lori Reesor, the vice chancellor for student affairs, who is white: With students, every year there’s 8,000 new ones, and it’s all brand-new, and so we have to start it again. They just got here. This is a new day. It’s a reminder of, every day is a new day for somebody on our campus.
In an interview, Mr. Sims said the university had tried and failed to attract more African-American students in a state where 6.7 percent of people are black. According to university data, 959 undergraduates in the fall of 2019 identified as African-American; some of those students said they were African-American as well as Hispanic or another race or ethnicity. Qualified students often choose to leave Wisconsin, Mr. Sims said, finding other places more hospitable. (Among the more than 30,000 undergraduates at the University of Wisconsin, about 2,200 are Asian and 1,700 are Hispanic, according to federal data.)
Patrick Sims, deputy vice chancellor for diversity and inclusion and chief diversity officer, who is African-American: They don’t want to come to Wisconsin. Not because Wisconsin isn’t a great institution but because the state writ large over all has challenges.
That Friday afternoon, the protest was complete, the crowds had drifted away, and a handful of students who represented S.I.C. gathered in front of Abraham Lincoln.
In Madison, the statue — known simply as Abe — is a watchful, benevolent presence on top of the hill, a landmark and meeting place. After graduation, it is tradition to hoist yourself onto the statue, wearing a cap and gown, and pose for a triumphant picture on Abe’s lap.
Kingsley-Reigne Pissang, Payton Wade and a few other students paused in front of Abe. As they snapped a few pictures, they saw an African-American teenager and his mother walking toward them. He was a high school junior, checking out the campus.
The teenager had questions. Did they like going to the University of Wisconsin? His mother asked: How’s the diversity?
Kingsley-Reigne Pissang: We just stood there and talked to him, talked to his mom and answered their questions. He was trying to figure out from us what to do, what he should know, trying to understand.
The students tried to answer honestly. They told them there weren’t many African-American students at Madison. That many other schools were the same. That he would have to do his research before he made his choice. That despite the difficulty, they had found each other.
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