#and never for an allowance. they taught me these things were simply my responsibility i was so jealous of kids who got money for chores lol

[megatron]

wait this is really interesting to me how did you guys grow up when it comes to chores and cooking

[sempermoi]

Rant about generative AI in education and in general under the cut because I'm worried and frustrated and I needed to write it out in a small essay:

So, context: I am a teacher in Belgium, Flanders. I am now teaching English (as a second language), but have also taught history and Dutch (as a native language). All in secondary education, ages 12-16.

More and more I see educational experts endorse ai being used in education and of course the most used tools are the free, generative ones. Today, one of the colleagues responsible for the IT of my school went to an educational lecture where they once again vouched for the use of ai.

Now their keyword is that it should always be used in a responsible manner, but the issue is... can it be?

1. Environmentally speaking, ai has been a nightmare. Not only does it have an alarming impact on emission levels, but also on the toxic waste that's left behind. Not to mention the scarcity of GPUs caused by the surge of ai in the past few years. Even sources that would vouch for ai have raised concerns about the impact it has on our collective health. sources: here, here and here

2. Then there's the issue with what the tools are trained on and this in multiple ways:

Many of the free tools that the public uses is trained on content available across the internet. However, it is at this point common knowledge (I'd hope) that most creators of the original content (writers, artists, other creative content creators, researchers, etc.) were never asked for permission and so it has all been stolen. Many social media platforms will often allow ai training on them without explicitly telling the user-base or will push it as the default setting and make it difficult for their user-base to opt out. Deviantart, for example, lost much of its reputation when it implemented such a policy. It had to backtrack in 2022 afterwards because of the overwhelming backlash. The problem is then that since the content has been ripped from their context and no longer made by a human, many governments therefore can no longer see it as copyrighted. Which, yes, luckily also means that ai users are legally often not allowed to pass off ai as 'their own creation'. Sources: here, here

Then there's the working of generative ai in general. As said before, it simply rips words or image parts from their original, nuanced context and then mesh it together without the user being able to accurately trace back where the info is coming from. A tool like ChatGPT is not a search engine, yet many people use it that way without realising it is not the same thing at all. More on the working of generative ai in detail. Because of how it works, it means there is always a chance for things to be biased and/or inaccurate. If a tool has been trained on social media sources (which ChatGPT for example is) then its responses can easily be skewed to the demographic it's been observing. Bias is an issue is most sources when doing research, but if you have the original source you also have the context of the source. Ai makes it that the original context is no longer clear to the user and so bias can be overlooked and go unnoticed much easier. Source: here

3. Something my colleague mentioned they said in the lecture is that ai tools can be used to help the learning of the students.

Let me start off by saying that I can understand why there is an appeal to ai when you do not know much about the issues I have already mentioned. I am very aware it is probably too late to fully stop the wave of ai tools being published.

There are certain uses to types of ai that can indeed help with accessibility. Such as text-to-voice or the other way around for people with disabilities (let's hope the voice was ethically begotten).

But many of the other uses mentioned in the lecture I have concerns with. They are to do with recognising learning, studying and wellbeing patterns of students. Not only do I not think it is really possible to data-fy the complexity of each and every single student you would have as they are still actively developing as a young person, this also poses privacy risks in case the data is ever compromised. Not to mention that ai is often still faulty and, as it is not a person, will often still make mistakes when faced with how unpredictable a human brain can be. We do not all follow predictable patterns.

The lecture stated that ai tools could help with neurodivergency 'issues'. Obviously I do not speak for others and this next part is purely personal opinion, but I do think it important to nuance this: as someone with auDHD, no ai-tool has been able to help me with my executive dysfunction in the long-term. At first, there is the novelty of the app or tool and I am very motivated. They are often in the form of over-elaborate to-do lists with scheduled alarms. And then the issue arises: the ai tries to train itself on my presented routine... except I don't have one. There is no routine to train itself on, because that is my very problem I am struggling with. Very quickly it always becomes clear that the ai doesn't understand this the way a human mind would. A professionally trained in psychology/therapy human mind. And all I was ever left with was the feeling of even more frustration.

In my opinion, what would help way more than any ai tool would be the funding of mental health care and making it that going to a therapist or psychiatrist or coach is covered by health care the way I only have to pay 5 euros to my doctor while my health care provider pays the rest. (In Belgium) This would make mental health care much more accessible and would have a greater impact than faulty ai tools.

4. It was also said that ai could help students with creative assignments and preparing for spoken interactions both in their native language as well as in the learning of a new one.

I wholeheartedly disagree. Creativity in its essence is about the person creating something from their own mind and putting the effort in to translate those ideas into their medium of choice. Stick figures on lined course paper are more creative than letting a tool like Midjourney generate an image based on stolen content. How are we teaching students to be creative when we allow them to not put a thought in what they want to say and let an ai do it for them?

And since many of these tools are also faulty and biased in their content, how could they accurately replace conversations with real people? Ai cannot fully understand the complexities of language and all the nuances of the contexts around it. Body language, word choice, tone, volume, regional differences, etc.

And as a language teacher, I can truly say there is nothing more frustrating than wanting to assess the writing level of my students, giving them a writing assignment where they need to express their opinion and write it in two tiny paragraphs... and getting an ai response back. Before anyone comes to me saying that my students may simply be very good at English. Indeed, but my current students are not. They are precious, but their English skills are very flawed. It is very easy to see when they wrote it or ChatGPT. It is not only frustrating to not being able to trust part of your students' honesty and knowing they learned nothing from the assignment cause you can't give any feedback; it is almost offensive that they think I wouldn't notice it.

5. Apparently, it was mentioned in the lecture that in schools where ai is banned currently, students are fearful that their jobs would be taken away by ai and that in schools where ai was allowed that students had much more positive interactions with technology.

First off, I was not able to see the source and data that this statement was based on. However, I personally cannot shake the feeling there's a data bias in there. Of course students will feel more positively towards ai if they're not told about all the concerns around it.

Secondly, the fact that in the lecture it was (reportedly) framed that being scared your job would disappear because of ai, was untrue is... infuriating. Because it already is becoming a reality. Let's not forget what partially caused the SAG-AFTRA strike in 2023. Corporations see an easy (read: cheap) way to get marketable content by using ai at the cost of the creative professionals. Unregulated ai use by businesses causing the loss of jobs for real-life humans, is very much a threat. Dismissing this is basically lying to young students.

6. My conclusion:

I am frustrated. It's clamoured that we, as teachers, should educate more about ai and it's responsible use. However, at the same time the many concerns and issues around most of the accessible ai tools are swept under the rug and not actively talked about.

I find the constant surging rise of generative ai everywhere very concerning and I can only hope that more people will start seeing it too.

Thank you for reading.

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Low (Sandman One-Shot)

​GIF: Originally posted by @sigurism

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x gender neutral reader

Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Angst/comfort. Morpheus attempts to bring comfort to a dreamer who is managing depression, while in his cat form.

Warnings: Angst, talk of depression

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Hey Sandfam, can you believe it has been a whole year since series 1 hit our screens? To celebrate, I am sharing a one-shot that features our beloved Dream as Meowpheus. Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think. Would love to know if you're doing anything to commemorate today. All my love, Saskia <3

Sandman Masterlist

--------------------------------------------

If a person were allowed to view what was presently being thought inside your mind and felt within your heart, they would likely notice that your body was being a direct conduit for both.

You were often cited by others as someone who wore their heart on the sleeve. When you had first heard the phrase directed towards you, it had conjured a pleasant connotation. Showing your emotions could not really be a bad thing, could it? Humans loved love, and they loved honesty. However, honesty about less-than-positive feelings; you have come to learn that it doesn't produce the same reaction.

All endearment fades.

Infants, children, adolescents can feel as they wish. Adults must be in control.

Unhappiness is something to be fixed, avoided, quashed; an emotion to be ashamed of, this is what you have been conditioned to believe. And unfortunately, the manner in which a vast majority of people behave in response to your low moods does little to aid in changing your mindset.

"Cheer up, it might never happen", they would say, the flippant words a paralysing gut punch that leaves you wanting to scream: It already did.

You then feel obligated to double down on your efforts to flatten the emotional peaks and troughs. A dangerous pursuit, for repressing sadness in lieu of its acknowledgement allows for it to stack up and up so much that you that run the risk of it spilling forth in unfavourable, non-triggering settings.

You are a human shaped pressure cooker. Doomed to spiral at the petrol station.

There was a time when sleep brought you a refuge. Regardless of how bad your day had been, how leaden your steps, you could always find enough fervour to propel yourself into carrying out your bedtime routine and then contentedly fall asleep.

For in dreams, the act of masking your feelings from observers could be dropped; you were alone in body and mind within the neutrality of your bedroom. Sure, you had nightmares at times but you derived so much pleasure from their dream counterparts that it did not matter in the long term.

You were happy in your dreamscapes to simply be.

Until you suddenly weren't.

A new low was discovered in waking and it has transformed into one you cannot escape from, even in dreams. Each night has become a repetition. You slip into sleep and plummet to the same subconscious rock bottom.

The place where you go, the earth is cold and damp under your prone body. You lay on your side, one arm cradling your head, the other wrapped around your middle.

An ominous drone takes up residence within your mind, a constant reminder of your thoughts and feelings.

Here you remain.

Trapped in the doldrums. Languishing away. Asleep but not seeking fantasies.

Even your usual nightmares are not drawn to you for there is nothing to entice them in. What could you need of a nightmare right now? There was nothing that could be taught.

Morpheus, Dream of the Endless senses the shift. You are a blip in a sea of dreamers. As if your subconscious mind has become a daub of dark matter against a backdrop of glowing galaxies; you exist but your light is extinguished.

There is so much anguish and the King of Dreams and Nightmares feels it all too keenly, as if it were his own.

It grows in strength with each passing day and night, taking your will to carry on. The handiwork of Despair of the Endless is all too apparent, intricate and bold in its ensnarement until you are a focal point of suffering.

Unsurprisingly, this is not the first time that Morpheus has felt the sorrow of a dreamer. Having existed for millennia, he has been witness to every variety. Kinds brought on by grief, shame, fear, longing, loathing to name but a few. There is something additional afoot with you though.

The desolate clearing you have been coming to, the fact that it is the same location every night, unchanging and devoid of hope. It is unusual, and hard to witness.

Despair has you in a chokehold.

What pains Morpheus even further is that he cannot remove his sibling's influence here. He can, however, offer you a reprieve.

He will bring you a dream.

A few moments are spent wandering through your prior dreamscapes, through the aid of the book emblazoned with your name, looking for things that have brought you solace in the past. Morpheus sees a few are inspired by memories.

He knows he must do this in a delicate manner and settles on a reserved option. One that would hopefully not startle you too much. Approaching you in a humanoid form is not feasible. It was other humans that had contributed to your current state, judging by your recent nightmares.

Morpheus enters the frame upon four legs, approaching you on soundless feet. Each step is measured, the pads of each wide paw flattening imperceptibly into the cold, loose ground.

He creeps closer and takes a minute to watch you. Your eyelids are closed, forehead pinched with a frown, mouth set in a grimace.

Morpheus stands beside you and nudges his nose against the hand you are gripping your torso with. Three sensations stand out to you. The soft press of the contact. The warm breath of an exhalation. The delicate tickle of whiskers.

The latter is a something you recognise immediately; it was unlike anything else in the universe.

You open your eyes, unsurprised by the image that greets you.

Next to you stands a cat. At least you think it is a cat.

They are much larger than any feline you have ever laid eyes on, made even more immense by their black fur; wild and mussed but not in a way that suggested they were uncared for, rather that it had been blown about by an unrelenting wind.

"Hello." You push yourself to a cross-legged seated position. "Are you lost?"

The innocent little question is loaded with such pathos that Morpheus has to blink back the hot prick of tears behind his eyes. Here you were, your hope, your life force literally ebbing away and you were worried about him.

He instinctually edges a bit closer to you before you speak again, this time in a whisper.

“I’m afraid I might not be much help. I’m lost too."

You extend your arm, offering the flat of your palm to the cat as a proper introduction, one that he reciprocates by bumping his cheek firmly against your skin.

"I guess we can be lost together."

Your sad smile is utterly devastating as you scratch behind one of his almost wolfish ears. He is unbelievably soft and you reach for the same spot again.

Morpheus puts his front paws on your left knee so you don't have to stretch as far and lets you continue to touch his head.

He is aware of the science of petting a cat with its lowering of blood pressure and alleviation of stress and anxiety, and with every second, he feels a lessening of your most acute pain, like the top layers are being skimmed away.

You feel better physically too, less tightness in your muscles and more awareness in your senses. You begin to notice things like the scent of the air and the ambient temperature. It is damp and mild but nothing you can’t handle, and it is a nice thought to have.

"You're very handsome," You comment, carefully and meticulously running your fingers through the dark fur, starting at his head and ending at the very tip of his bushy tail.

Morpheus, though he was calm before, is instantly and completely disarmed by these long-form strokes and is powerless to stop the deep, rumbling purrs that emanate from within his chest.

You smile widely at your companion’s reaction.

"Would you like to sit on me?" You pat your thigh as an invitation.

Morpheus hesitates, wondering if he would be crossing a boundary of familiarity. You don’t know that he is the anthropomorphic personification of dreams and nightmares. To you, he is a cat and according to your dreams, an animal that makes you feel safe and calm.

And right now, you were making him feel the same. This was not in any way a part of his plan when he had shown himself to you but who was he to deny what was clearly happening here?

He climbs up.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” You say encouragingly, delighted by the fact that this beautiful cat has chosen to trust you.

Morpheus takes a moment to settle and then snuggles into the crook of your arm. His warmth and weight are comforting sensations. You resume your gentle stroking, and he resumes his satisfied purring.

He gazes up at you with his striking blue eyes. Stormy in their intensity, oceanic in their colour. They are eyes that seem to hold the depth of a juxtaposed universe within them; wise yet weary. Hopeful yet haunted.

You have never seen anything like them in cats or humans alike.

The more you look, the more the cat's face seems to say: "Feel what you need to. Everything will be okay." How you determine this, you do not know yet you go with it, you are asleep after all.

Overcome with emotion, you screw your eyes shut and bend down to bring your face close to Morpheus' own. You cuddle him and the tears begin to fall.

"Thank you," You say in a hoarse whisper.

A little piece of hope glistens within you. You can do this. You don't have to hide your feelings. You shouldn't.

Morpheus feels his heart bursting at this wavering of your despair.

He decides there and then that he will do this for you every night until you feel strong enough to leave this barren plane.

No words needed. Just a human and a cat. Helping each other feel less alone.

[oh-shtars]

Hey Flicker! I have a little question about Sueño, if you are uncomfortable answering it I totally understand and you can not answer it if you want:

Has Sueño ever had self-destructive thoughts? I mean ……. thoughts of wanting to do something to no longer exist (I don't know if you understand me but I really don't know if it's correct to use THAT word 😅).

I mean Sueño has been kidnapped at 12 years old? that's a long time to stay in one place and develop clustrophobia and there's also the fact that he couldn't go home, and seeing how Magnifico is in your Au…..idk I only see it as something probable.

As I said before, I hope the question doesn't make you uncomfortable, you are free to answer it or not, your Au is very interesting and I couldn't think of another question to ask (Bo is certainly better than me at asking interesting questions, really what's your secret Bo?)

It’s fine, Aled! I’m okay with answering this question but first, I just want to say:

You don’t have to go under the cut if you get uncomfortable with this kind of topic.

It’s nothing graphic or detailed, don’t worry. It’s more of another peek into Sueño’s character for those who are starving for angst content.

And when I say angst, I mean angst. Like. REALLY. MEAN. ANGST.

Btw, @signed-sapphire. Aled has a really good question for you <3

Sueño doesn’t start off with those thoughts. For the decade that he was held captive, he’s just really, really, really homesick and afraid of what’s to come, but he’s never considered it. All he wants is to go back home, go back to how it was in the Astral Realm, and never come down again for a millenia.

If anything, he mostly thinks about what his fellow stars are doing right now. They must be looking for him, right? He still has a life up there to look forward to once he does escape.

He’s always had that hope that he will leave soon. Someday. Somehow. Even if it takes a while. After all, he’s always been taught as a starling that hope is one of the strongest things there is.

*coughs* ‘Hopes and Dreams- *cough cough* Sueño being a very hopeful character that teaches Asha to do the same while she helps him see the light in others- *COUGHS*

But I have this idea for my plot that Sueño thought his magic is being exploited by humans in general. That since Mag has access to using Wish Magic, the kingdom’s citizens are being spoiled with all the things they could dream of. Which is why if you remember in my old comic down here, he gets all upset and offended that these guys still have the audacity to ask for more when they literally have a wish-granting king for a decade.

“These humans are just never satisfied with all their begging, do they? What more could they want? They have everything!!“

And it’s true, in Rosas, there seems to be multiple citizens gifted with a talent that allows them to automatically create what they want without much effort or mistakes. A complete utopia.

However, as he follows Asha along the story, Sueño comes to understand humans more than he did back when he was 12. Not all wishes are self-centred. Some were even desperate and selfless. Like wishing good for someone else or wanting to see a lost friend/family again. Some even came to Rosas despite the long boat journey to start new after their homeland outcasted them.

And it’s shocking to find out that these people don’t even remember what they wished for in the first place. Sueño really thought they had it all. That they simply just wished for something and it’ll just be given in a snap. But he comes to find that these people are held captive in a terrible cycle of waiting, fearing, and longing just like he was.

He really had no idea it was like this the whole time this past decade. And in a way, he felt responsible. After all, it was HIS magic that got them into this mess, right? It was because of HIM that this ‘cycle of feeling empty’ started. It’s HIS fault that people are hanging on to a very thin thread of hope, most dependent on one king that promised them a chance to get their desires granted.

And gosh, will that realisation break him. Sueño wonders if the other stars would even want him back in the Astral Realm after what happened. Heck, people, even Asha, could hate him if they realised this. He wouldn’t belong anywhere. He doesn’t have anyone else to go to. And dammit, maybe none of this would have happened if he wasn’t so unlucky enough to be captured and taken advantage of.

If he never existed…..

(There’s obviously more to that backstory buuuuuut, that’s kinda spoilers 🤐)

Also, holy fawk. This post helped made me realise I could do ‘Hopes and Dreams’ in reverse in the 2nd half of the plot. Sueño could be the one who lost all hope of finding somewhere to belong this time while Asha, having been betrayed by the Royal Couple, saw the very terrible darkness in some people and now they get to help each other relearn lessons-

*G A S P*

OMFG MAG. I KNOW I CREATED YOU BUT I’D BE LYING IF I SAID I NEVER FELT LIKE THROWING YOU DOWN A WELL-

[just-another-star-47]

Thoughts on the Sallow family III

Part I Part II

Let's continue with Sebastian and Anne's parents.

I've often wondered what the relationship between them and their children was like, ultimately there's a lot of room for interpretation on this subject as we don't have much to go on.

Sebastian seems to have relatively fond memories of his parents, especially his father. 

I've already mentioned a few more thoughts in the last two parts, but I'd like to expand on them here. The Sallows were professors, so they either taught or used their professorship to do research (or both).

What I noticed about the professors we meet in the game is that they all have their rooms at Hogwarts and seem to live there (the letters about their family life away from Hogwarts support this). 

Which makes me wonder who was with Anne and Sebastian while their parents were teaching. Were they allowed to come to the castle and stay with their parents? (Which would still have meant that they were on their own for most of the day).

Or did one of their parents always come home in the evening? (Again, the siblings would have been alone for the day).

This leads me to the next question, whether there is such a thing as kindergartens in the wizarding world. I could write a separate post on that alone, but since this is about the Sallow family, I'll keep it brief.

Ultimately, my point is that I personally think that Sebastian and Anne were very often alone as children. If you think about the time in which HL is set, this is not surprising, because education and research in the field of children were still in their infancy. The fatal accident alone indicates that the Sallows left Sebastian and Anne to their own devices when they were working (so even if they were researching rather than teaching, their absence remains).

For me, this idea is very interesting because it explains Sebastian's behaviour in the game once again. He sees himself as responsible for Anne (I personally like the idea that he was born a little earlier, but of course gender roles can also play a part) and therefore has had to take on the role of an adult earlier than he should. This would explain why he makes his decisions alone, why he needs to be alone to calm down, and why Anne's curse almost drives him mad.

The two siblings are not only linked by the bond of twins, but also by the time they have spent together since childhood, when they have had to keep each other company. In Sebastian's case, there is also the role of carer, from which he cannot detach himself. In the course of the game, he explains that Solomon never really cared for them, implying that Sebastian could and knows better, which to me again reflects the role he took on too early.

(Again, I could go on and on, but back to the parents).

The fact that Sebastian doesn't seem to bear a grudge against his parents may be because, despite everything, they always endeavoured to meet their children's needs as far as they could. In the last parts, I wrote that I think the family often travelled, which would indicate that the family spent time together. But it could also be that he doesn't realise how big a burden it is to have to take on the role of carer as a child and has simply accepted this as his task.

It's probably a mixture of both.

[zopharooni]

"Lament"

A DMAU story, part 3/4 (start / previous / next)

Chaos. That's all that my life has been as of recent.

Now? That's all my life will ever be.

I step into the cult grounds, and immediately I'm greeted with bustling crowds, all working in tandem on one thing or another. Everyone is talking, it's so loud, and yet there is order among them? Strange.

I blend right into the crowds and attempt to locate some building where I can speak to a leader, priest, or someone in charge. I stow my greataxe as to not appear larger or more threatening. I spot a large temple, that seems mostly unoccupied right now, make my way over and slip inside. Immediately, I spot a Rodent follower, clad in better robes than most of the others. They spot me, and immediately draw a sword and rush me, recognizing I am not a member.

I swiftly draw my greataxe, and parry their strike, knocking their sword to the ground. Immediately after, I toss the greataxe to my side, as to show I mean no harm.

"I'm here to join. Who do I talk to?"

"Uh.... We don't really have a leader here, but I'm responsible for educating new members. If you'd like, I can help? First step being... not attacking members." the Rodent meekly states, still on the ground.

"Yes. I wish to devote myself to chaos, and chaos only. Also, you struck first. You simply failed."

The day quickly passes, as I am shown around the cult ground and am outfitted with proper robes, minus the hood, as per my request. I wish for the heretics to know my face. The education process was very fast, as I wish for nothing but to serve Chaos.

The next few months pass by in a blur. I spend this time acquainting myself with beliefs of chaos, and blacksmithing, as to craft my own weapon. One to serve as the hand of chaos. I eventually fashion a wicked glaive to be my weapon of choice. After gaining sufficient trust of the cult, I am allowed to go on solo missionaries. Finally, I can bring the fight to the other cults. I'll start with rogue cults in rotwood, then make my way back to the cults that wronged me.

A year passes, then another, as I hone my skill past that which I was taught.

It's time. I need to go to Ombros and find the cult that caused all these problems. Pestilence will pay. I prepare my bag for the journey, and sharpen my glaive. I won't spare a soul. I leave the cult, and begin my journey back to Ombros.

A few days pass before I reach my destination. I know Rotwood well now, but Ombros I know better. The journey is no challenge at all. I push through the underbrush and reach it.

The cabin.

I... had to know.

Cliff and Spike are almost certainly already gone... but I wanted to check anyways. I'm not sure why. I push open the door, and the cool air inside pushes out, a smell of dust and a stagnant musk lingering. I make my way to their room, and look at the bed. Empty. Don't know what I expected. There's a picture on the side desk.

Its... Us....

Me. Spike. Gid and Cliff. Collecting dust. I slowly grasp it, wipe the dust from the glass... and stow it away. I shouldn't keep it... It will make me weak, but my heart isn't whole without them.

After a minute I check Spike's room. Empty.

I check mine. It's exactly how I left it, so long ago. Except... there's a note on my desk. I pick up the dust covered paper and read:

"Thorne, if you ever read this, know that you were the best sister I could have ever asked for, and it hurts me so much to know I might never see you again. Whatever reason you had to leave us for, I'm sure you were justified. Cliff left us yesterday, and I had to lay him to rest. It hurt me so much, seeing him go, but at least he isn't suffering anymore. I miss you. So, so much. I'm going to venture out to look for help. This illness has me close to the light, but I will push on. For Gideon. For Cliff. For You."

"Love, Spike."

"...I miss you too." I mumble, unconsciously.

I wipe my tears... wait, I'm crying? It doesn't matter. I have a job. I wipe my tears away, pocket the note, and leave the room. It's time to go. As I exit the cabin, I spot it. A grave, a wooden stick marker poking up from it, all surrounded by stones. In the middle... is a familiar iridescent crystal. Said to bring good luck. Good health.

I swiftly push back into the forest, I have a job to do. An obligation. For my family. To get back at the bishops. After a few hours I begin to hear them. Those pestilence heretics. I catch a view from my elevated position. It looks... similar to the layout of the chaos grounds back at Rotwood. Simply with added Ombrosian flair. Rock pathing, rain catchers, crystal decorations.

I make my way closer, and try to think how I want to do this. Take them by surprise in the night? Attack in broad daylight to send a message? The rain is very light right now and a fire might be possible. That's it. I have to strike now. I'll target the ones in charge first, with the stronger fighters following them.

Activity seems to be low right now, so I'll just walk in and force my way to the temple. What if I act like a messenger first? That may do it. I walk into the open cult ground, cloven hooves clicking against the stone path. I see the temple right away, and start making my way over.

Suddenly, a monkey follower lunges at me, with a large sword. I parry with my glaive, attempting to disarm him, but his grip is tight and his resolve steeled. Still, no damage, but he doesn't seem the type to talk.

"I'm here to send a message." I calmly say.

"We don't listen to the falsehoods of chaos!" They bark out, garnering attention from the crowd. This might change things.

They strike fast and aggressively. Not nearly skilled enough to beat me, but enough to give trouble if I want to continue my plans.

Suddenly, a deep bell sound is struck, resonating throughout the cult. The monkey quickly withdraws from our fight upon hearing it. Interesting.

"It seems the leader and his right hand wish to speak to you directly. Lucky you." The monkey sneers.

Two figures make themselves known from the crowd. One hooded, one without, with antlers.

The larger figure removes their hood, and deep purple fur with large ears poke out. Beside him, I finally recognize a familiar set of blue eyes.

[littlelovingideas]

“Let Me” 18+!!!!

Rick x Reader  - “Let me”

Alrighty.... here it is. I finally sat my ass down and got this done. If I didn’t make myself work on it, I’d have never finished it. And honestly.... I’m not sure how I feel about it yet, but I guess it’s because I haven’t had a chance to come back to it and see it from a fresh perspective.

Regardless, I am happy to finally post it and truly hope it meets your expectations, or that you at least enjoy it!

I burst through the door of my home causing a huge bang to ring out, and awkwardly hobbled over to the couch where I promptly dropped my duffel bag and myself.

The sudden commotion caused Rick to peer around the corner from the kitchen at me,

“You alright?” he questioned, concern spreading over his features

“Yep” I winced, gingerly pulling up my pant leg to examine my ankle. 

No swelling, no bruising... that’s a good sign. I am extraordinarily clumsy, so much so that it’s almost a running joke in the community of Alexandria. Why anyone ever allowed me out on runs, I’ll never know. But I guess when it comes down to it, I can do what I need to and that’s what matters the most.

“Hey, hey” Rick strode over, his face still taught with worry, “let me take a look”.

He kneels down in front of me and slowly takes my foot into his large hands. For a man who’s hands are so calloused and rough, his touch sure is delicate. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through my body, and I try to ignore the image of Rick kneeling before me. I swallow hard and stare at the ceiling, hoping to avoid my brain running away with that thought. 

“So, you gonna tell me what happened this time?”, he almost chuckled, and I simply rolled my eyes in response.

“Long story short,” I started, feeling a grin creep it’s way across my face, “I guess I forgot how to walk and tripped over a root. I rolled it pretty good. I just wish I had a cooler story”. His blue eyes flashed up at me, eliciting a short chuckle from him as he shook his head.

“Well, it doesn’t look like it’s sprained, so I think you’re safe.” He sighed, “As for how it happened, we can just tell people they should see the other guy.”

Rick winked at me, and a chortle escaped my throat at his comment. 

I’d been friends with Rick for a long time, ever since the prison. And I’d be lying through my teeth if I’d said I hadn’t been attracted to him since day 1, but when we met between Hershel’s farm and the prison he had much bigger, much more personal things going on. I wanted to be respectful and kept my distance, despite his marriage with Lori clearly being over. I knew the love he had for her ran deep, as did the love for the infant she’d been carrying.

I couldn’t help but wonder sometimes if he had similar feelings for me though. Every now and then, when I’d turn around, I could almost swear that his gaze was lingering on me before he’d swiftly turn around and resume what he was doing.

I still didn’t want to risk making anything awkward, or ruining the friendship that had bloomed between us, especially as we were currently sharing a house together in Alexandria. But once again I’d be an absolutely filthy liar if I tried to tell you that living in such close quarters with him and having such a domestic lifestyle didn’t cause my feelings to become stronger. It just felt so natural. So much so that I could see us having a life together of our own. I was great with Judith, and I’d nurtured a bond with Carl. I loved them both like my own. And yet, I couldn’t allow myself to admit my feelings for Rick, despite how naturally our friendship had flourished months ago.

I tore my mind away from my thoughts and back to reality, where Rick was still kneeled before me, with an eyebrow cocked and a questioning look emanating from his gorgeous blue eyes.

“What’s got you so deep in thought?” he questioned, in almost a teasing manner.I could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

I felt a mild blush start to creep across my cheeks as I just shook my head,

“Oh, nothing. Was just day-dreaming”, I fibbed. I wasn’t about to tell him it was about him, bu there it was... t I couldn’t help noticing that his gaze had also lingered momentarily. Just for a moment, but I was almost certain at what I’d seen.

He cleared his throat, before getting up and straightening out his pant legs,

“Well, your foot seems ok. Just try to keep it up and, maybe take it easy for the next few days. Lots of capable people here to go out for supplies.” He winked and I watched, almost hypnotized as his long, toned legs carried him back into the kitchen.

God, did I ever want to know what those thighs felt like beneath me.

My skin was still burning from where he touched my foot. I could almost still feel his fingers on me, gently caressing away any pain I’d had.

Once again, I shook my head, trying to get rid of those damn thoughts, and pulled myself off the couch and up the stairs to bed, calling out a quick “Good night” to Rick before disappearing over the landing..

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I awoke slowly, feeling the dryness of my throat.

As I came around, I realized the entirety of the house was silent and immediately knew it must have still been the middle of the night.

Ever since we got this house, Rick was adamant on allowing me the bedroom. I had tried to tell him I didn’t need it, but he was content enough just sleeping on the couch- and so sleep on the couch he did.

Sometimes though, I couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to share a bed with him, feeling his warm body next to me, our limbs tangled up with one another’s ... taking in his scent as we lay in bed together. Oh, his scent.

Sometimes, the thought of his warmth in the bed next to me would lead my mind to other things, like his weight above me, his blue eyes staring down at me intently. I tried to imagine how his face would look coated with lust. I tried to imagine his voice- I could only expect that it would be much lower and gravelly than normal. I sighed to myself as I felt my throat grow even dryer at the mental images my brain was producing, and flung the covers back to get a glass of water.

Slowly, I snuck down the hall, past Carl and Judith’s rooms, and down the steps. The hardwood floors were cool beneath my feet, and I enjoyed the sensation as I padded through the house to the kitchen. 

As I passed through the living room, I couldn’t help but notice Rick was still awake- he had the side lamp on and was stretched out with a book in-hand. I spotted the title and immediately recognized it as one I’d brought back from my run earlier. A smile crept across my face as I continued on into the kitchen.

I took a few moments to drink my water, and take in the silence of the house. The silence. It’s something we didn’t get much of in the prior months, or even years, since the beginning of all of this. Sometimes, it was almost deafening. But most of the time, it was extremely welcome. I sighed contentedly, and headed back through the living room where Rick was still seated, but this time he was resting the book in his lap and his eyes were fixed on me.

Maybe it was the dim lighting from the lamp next to him, but his eyes seemed softer than usual.

I grinned, trying to ignore the slight awkwardness creeping up inside from not knowing what to do.

“So, I see you like the book?”

“Yeah”, he replied, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it, “It was one of my favourites.”

“Yeah, I remembered you telling me about it, a while ago and couldn’t help picking it up yesterday. I knew you’d enjoy it”.

His eyes were still trained on me, his gaze nearly burning a hole through me. I subconsciously toyed with the hem of my sleep shirt, feeling mildly awkward and not knowing what to do.

A thick silence filled the room.

“Well,” I cleared my throat, “I’m glad you like it, get some rest and I’ll see you bright and early as usual.”

Just as I turned to go back up the stairs, Rick’s voice rung out, slicing into the silence in the room, calling my name.

I stopped and turned back around, only to see him on his feet and striding over to me. His bare feet not making a sound despite how quickly he was upon me. 

Before I knew it, Rick was towering over me, his eyes boring into mine. His scent overwhelmed my senses, and the warmth radiating from his torso was making my head spin.

His eyes were darker than I’d seen them before, keeping me entirely in a trance with no idea what to do or what to say.

I lightly gasped as I felt his hand come to rest on my waist.

The tension between us was almost electric.

“Rick, I-” I stammered, but he cut me off, gently shushing me.

“I see the way you look at me”, he stated, “I see it all the time, and I’d be a fool not to notice-.”

I felt my cheeks get insanely hot, and prayed to all that was holy that it wasn’t visible in the darkness.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you-”

Again, he cut me off,

“No. You have nothing to apologize for. I was going to say I’d also be a fool not to feel the same way”, he chuckled quietly, biting his lip, “I see what you do for me, Carl and Judith. Always going out of your way for us. Doing more than you need to”.

I looked at the floor for a moment, thinking about his words- and he was right. Always picking up something that I thought one of them would like, whether it be comics for Carl, some toys for Judith, for Rick- books, clothing, favourite snacks, etc.

I guess I’d never really acknowledged it but I had a deep-seated desire to take care of the man who so tirelessly took care of everyone else. Call it what you will, but I realized I loved this man and must have been inadvertently showing it this entire time.

My cheeks burned as the sudden reality washed over me.

I felt a calloused finger make the most gentle contact with my chin, and pull my face up to look him in the eyes again. 

He didn’t blink. His gaze never faltered. The hand that was under my chin slowly but surely made it’s way to the base of my neck, where he firmly, yet ever so gently pulled me towards him.

I was like putty in his hands at this point, my entire body was on fire and I could barely process what was happening. Time felt like it was moving in slow motion.

Our faces were so close, I could just barely feel his lips ghosting over mine. His smell was so intoxicating. He hesitated for a moment,

:”Is this okay?”

I barely skipped a beat, nodding my head vigorously. 

With that, he closed the gap between us and pressed his lips against mine. They were soft. So incredibly soft.

Rick was always such a rough and tumble guy, and despite having seen him with Judith and with Carl, I was almost shocked with how soft and gentle he was being with me.

Electricity surged through my veins. My head swam. The room spun.

Our lips moved against one another, slowly growing more passionate, sighs beginning to tumble from our lips between lingering kisses.

My hands snaked their way up his chest, pausing for a moment so I could savour the warmth radiating from under his shirt. His shoulders were broad and I could feel his muscles gliding under his skin as his hand worked through my hair.

I had touched Rick before- being friends for years, this was nothing new to me- but this situation felt incredibly different. I’d never touched him in this way, while allowing my desire to guide me.

The warmth of his body was causing the fantasies from earlier to return in full force, fueled by the sound of his breathing becoming heavier and the closeness of our bodies. 

Slowly, he pulled away and met my gaze. A shaky breath escaped my lips. 

“Are you sure this is okay?” Rick asked, his blue eyes absolutely burning into mine.

Slowly, I stepped forward until our bodies were pressed together, holding Rick’s gaze.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”, I state boldly, while simultaneously questioning where this sudden confidence was coming from. 

My breath hitched as Rick’s strong hand squeezed my waist and pressed my body even tighter to his, and in the dim lighting I saw a smirk begin to work its way across his beautiful lips.

Before I knew what was happening, his strong hands made contact with the backs of my thighs and within one swift movement I was no longer on the ground, and instead, resting on his hips. 

I could feel his strong fingers massaging my ass, while balancing me perfectly against him and giving my aching core a sense of relief as I felt his cock pressing against me. Suddenly, I was aware of just how wet I was for him, and could wait no longer.

My mind flooded with things I’d only been able to dream of before, but now, it was really going to happen. I could no longer wait to finally see his beautiful face contorted with pleasure, or hear his voice low and rough, thick with lust. I needed to feel his weight above me, and allow him to fill me completely.

The thought made my pussy twitch, and I gasped as I felt his cock return the favour beneath me. 

“Rick” I gasped, my fingers tugging at his soft curls, “Take me”. 

He growled.

“Shit, I thought you’d never ask”, and with that, he wasted no time heading for the stairs.

Moments later, he was crashing into the bedroom, our lips still colliding and my small frame still held tightly against his tall, muscular body, panting and gasping during our passionate exchange.

The entire time I could feel my pussy twitching as every step he took pressed his cock right into my needy core before tumbling onto the bed with me still in his arms.

Not wasting another moment, my fingers began frantically undoing the buttons on his shirt, hungrily grasping at the material and yearning to feel his skin on mine.

His hands were so large and warm as they slid beneath my shirt, gently grabbing and squeezing the soft flesh of my sides. I felt so small beneath his touch, and the feeling only turned me on more. I wanted to submit to him entirely.

I watched as he sat up for a moment and let his gaze trail down my body to  admire the scene before him, his piercing blue eyes stopping for a moment as they caught sight of my nipples pressing through the delicate fabric of my shirt. His eyes were full of lust, and what also seemed like disbelief as he continued to take all of me in.

His hands worked my shirt up further, exposing my midriff and my hips. He pressed his fingers into the softness of my stomach, and slowly, agonizingly trailed them downwards to play with the hem of my panties.

They were plain. Cotton. A simple bow in front. And yet he looked on admiringly regardless.

He continued staring intently, and I began to squirm under his gaze, simultaneously turned on and feeling slightly self conscious.

His eyes flashed back up to mine and he must have noticed my inquisitive look, because continued dragging his hand downward until he traced my slit over the fabric, causing me to buck my hips and stifle a whimper. 

Rick sucked in a breath as I felt him press his thumb gently against the pooling wetness in my panties.

His cock twitched in his pants, tearing my focus away from his face and I felt my eyes widen at the size of what I would be working with. His cock was so hard that I could see a clear outline of his shape straining against his thigh. 

My needy cunt clenched and our eyes flickered to one another, knowing he felt it as he toyed with my slit some more. His touch was agonizingly slow and delicate, so much so that it almost irritated me.

Without warning, while holding my gaze, he pressed against the now clear wet spot and a slight sigh tumbled from his lips as he felt the slick seep through the fabric and coat his fingers.

My jaw fell slack and I thought I saw a trace of amusement flit across his features as I felt my eyelids flutter at the sensation.

“Baby” I breathed, “Please, touch me”.

Rick’s head tilted back and his adams apple dipped as he swallowed hard, trying to stifle a moan at my sudden words before allowing himself to fall forward over me and staring me directly in the face.

Once again, his eyes were boring into mine and I could do nothing but stare back.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this” I murmured, “I’ve thought about your touch more times than I can count”.

His eyes only seemed to darken more as he took in my words.

“Oh yeah? That all you thought about darlin’?” he growled in my ear.

My tongue trailed over my bottom lip before I responded,

“No”.

Rick smirked and cocked an eyebrow, moving my panties to the side and ever so slowly feeling soft flesh of my lips.

“Tell me what else”.

I gulped. Suddenly, his eye contact intimidated me. I gathered my strength, and slowly mustered out the words I know he’d been waiting for,

“Your cock”, I sighed,

Immediately he knelt down the rest of the way and the tip of his tongue parted my lips, ghosting lightly over my most sensitive bundle of nerves, just as delicately as the words ghosted over my lips.

Immediately I bucked my hips again and my hands hungrily tangled themselves in his hair. One had continued to hold my panties to the side, and slid a large finger inside my desperate centre. He slowly worked his other hand up to massage my inner thigh. 

“Good girl” he murmured against my cunt.

“You take such good care of us” he continued, barely above a whisper “Now let me take care of you”

I inhaled so sharply as his lips formed a seal around my clit and he graced me with a moan- the vibration and sound combined to send me into a frenzy, my vision going white for a moment.

I felt him chuckle against me, as he continued to pump his finger in and out of me, before sliding another one inside in one fluid motion.

My fingers pulled his hair and I no longer had control of my body as my hips bucked and squirmed, trying to grind into him. He gratified me and pressed his face into my soaking wet centre once again, his tongue expertly attending to me where I needed him most.

Just then, without warning, he pulled away to tower over me once again. 

I whined at the sudden absence of his touch, and felt my pussy clench for the millionth time around nothing as he licked his lips and dragged the back of his hand across his mouth.

I felt my eyebrows furrow and had to resist the urge to pout at his sudden withdrawal, because as much as I was disappointed to lose his touch, I also knew what was coming next.

Just as I suspected, his hands went straight for his belt and expertly undid it in one expert movement.

I watched as he undid his button, zipper and then slowly slide his pants down.

His cock finally sprung out, and I felt myself salivating at the thought of taking him into my mouth, my eyes locked onto his length, staring hungrily.

I couldn’t tell what I wanted more- to feel his cock in my mouth, or to feel him stretch out my soaking cunt, and I think he could tell.

“Easy, girl” he bit his lip, slowly rubbing himself a couple of times through his boxers, looking at me with clear amusement on his face yet again. 

“Rick”, my voice was much lower than I anticipated, “Take it off”.

He smirked again, hooking his thumbs into his waistband and taking his sweet time working his boxers down over his hips- doing so agonizingly slowly over his shaft, watching me closely to gauge my reaction.

“Rick“, his name came out as more of a squeak, “Please. I need you”.

He paused for a moment, contemplating whether he was going to adhere to my demands or not, clearly feeling cocky.

Finally, he decided to give me what I’d asked for and freed himself- my jaw fell open as I finally got to take in the beauty of this man in his purest form.

My mouth watered, and without waiting, I was up on my knees and crawling towards him.

I hesitated before taking his thick cock in my hand - the sheer size made my hand look so small. His cock twitched in my hand, as I admired each and every inch of him. His cock was even more beautiful than I’d imagined, and unable to wait a second longer, I took him into my mouth.

His head fell back and I heard his breath catch as the head of his cock made contact with my warm tongue. I began slow- swirling my tongue gently around his head, taking in the warmth and savouring the taste of him. While I worked the head with my tongue, I gently pumped his shaft with my other hand.

A string of curse words spilled from his lips between pants and poorly stifled grunts.

His cock twitched in my mouth as he fought the urge to thrust into my throat. I placed my other hand on his toned thigh to brace myself, allowing my thumb to massage small circles into his skin.

I formed a seal with my lips and let him fall from my mouth with a gentle ‘pop’, before working my way down, dragging my lips down the underside of his dick, and then flicking my tongue back up his length, following the most beautiful vein I’d seen, before placing the lightest kiss to his tip which was soaked in precum.

At that, his hand effortlessly found its way into my hair and collected a handful. I allowed my lips to part for him, and took in as much of him as I possibly could, letting my jaw fall open as far as it could, and trying to accommodate hm into my throat as best I could without gagging. 

His grip in my hair tightened and he briefly thrusted into me as he lost control of himself for a moment, causing me to gag, and his cock to twitch a few times at the sensation of my throat contracting around him.

My tongue flicked up and down, while I also bobbed on his dick, wanting to give him the best sensation I could.

Just then, Rick pulled my hair and removed me from his dick. Forcefully.

I looked up at him, and my attention turned to my own pussy and how much I had drenched my underwear and my thighs. I loved looking at him from this angle, it felt so god damn erotic.

“Stop. I’m supposed to be taking care of you” he hissed.

“Sorry”, I shrugged, “I couldn’t help myself”

Rick chucked darkly and tilted his head,

“I had no idea you were such a giver.” 

I had no response, I just smiled back proudly, knowing just from his response that I’d already exceeded his expectations.

After another moment, I turned my attention from his eyes back to his cock, and realized it was truly the most incredible thing I’d ever seen.

I couldn’t get enough. He was the perfect combination of hard and strong, but also so smooth in my mouth.

“I love tasting you”. I didn’t even think before responding, and my eyes widened at the words that just fell from my mouth.

“Fuck” he growled, “Bend over”

He grabbed me firmly and flipped me over in one fluid movement, pressing his hand down on my back to signal me to bend, with which I complied.

I spread my legs and buried my face into the pillow just in time, as he immediately also buried his cock in my pussy. The stretch was incredible, and I cried out as my pussy suddenly had to adapt to his size.

The strength of his cock was even better in my pussy, and feeling how hard he was absolutely drove me insane. The pillow muffled what would have been an uncontrolled moan, and I felt his strong hand slap my ass before kneading into me again.

His dick twitched and throbbed inside me, while his hands gripped my hips. His thrusts were sloppy, and his other hand worked it’s way around to my front and found that little nub between my legs.

Feeling his weight behind me, the pads of his fingers expertly working me, his thrusts sloppy and hard, and the soft, restrained moans and grunts tumbling from his lips and into my ears was nearly too much to take.

I felt my cunt contracting around him, and I know he felt it too as he pulled out and roughly slammed back into me, the sound of skin on skin slapping filled the room, along with our ragged breathing and the occasionally profane exclamations.

“Fuck baby” he grunted, as his pace quickened, “You feel so good”. 

His fingers continued to rub circles into my clit, adjusting to my responses and reactions. He began to put more pressure and the circles matched tempo with his thrusts.

I felt my stomach begin to tighten, and that familiar jolt of pleasure signalling the arrival of my climax. I shoved my face back into the pillow and cried out as my cunt began to twitch.

:”Cum for me babe”. he groaned

“Please” I cried between gasps, “Please cum in me.”.

I tried to hold back on my climax, until I felt his cock begin twitching as well and he could no longer control his moans and grunts.

I finally allowed myself my own release, and Ricks hands grabbed my ass as hard as he could while we both rode out our high’s together.

Eventually, his thrusts slowed, and we both collapsed onto the bed- him on top of me, and his cock still twitching lazily inside of me.

He placed a kiss to my cheek and sighed contentedly before rolling off me and pulling my small body into his, holding me protectively and stroking my hair, before we eventually drifted off together.

I was absolutely looking forward to this new dynamic, and couldn’t wait to continue taking care of each other.

[yurieater69]

YEAAA

One of the things I love about Soldier 11 that I love is the HUGE LORE POTENTIAL she has for the story. I SWEAR she will have some huge stuff getting thrown her way in the story. (if you will allow me to ramble for a quick second) It's obvious that Anby and Soldier 11 are related to eachother, Soldier 11's character teaser prominently shows Anby in a mentor type role TO Soldier 11. It *could* be that Anby formerly held leadership of the Obol Squad before she disappeared/left/whatever happened to her to leave; this made Soldier 11 resentful of Anby, seeing it as a betrayal and THUS why she hates people who betray their own, and then being saddled with the responsibility to head this Squad that Anby formerly led. I am sold on the crackpot theory that Anby and Soldier 11 are clones somehow. Maybe Soldier 11 is the clone of Anby, maybe they're both clones, who knows, but I LOVE THE IDEA OF THAT! It's honestly kind of heartbreaking when you think about it: Consider that you've admired this person, they've taught you *everything* that you've known, they always preach about loyalty, always holding your back, training alongside you. They were cold, distant at time even but that's the cost of being in this group, you get the short end of the stick because you're...not original. You're disposable, but your mentor keeps you grounded, makes sure you're better than what *they* believe. You're far from the perfect soldier, but you'll make it there, so long as you have your mentor guiding you through all of this. ...Then, one day, you never see them again. You hold out hope that they return some day, that they're saddled with some operation that you don't know about. You take over in their absence, regardless of how underprepared you are; you stay loyal to the mission, you devoid yourself of emotion, you do not back down because *that is what they taught you to do.* And every day, that feeling of resentment just gets worse and worse, this bitterness in your chest that seems to stain the past more and more because you *believed* in them, you aspired to BE like them and then they just *leave?* All you've known since you've been trained is that you are lesser than, you are the 2nd option. And every day, it seems like *she* believed that too; were any of those lessons even *supposed* to help you, or was she simply keeping her guard up? Giving you useless lesson after useless lesson because she knew they could replace you. Those moments of coldness, neutrality... This hatred stains you. Regardless of what the true reality is. It stains and does not stop until all you remember is to hate these lessons. Until all you can see is somebody who betrayed you. You'll forever label yourself as some defective, younger version that does *everything* in her power to be that model that you once respected, to be everything that they WEREN'T. To spite her and walk your own path; clone or not be damned. Anyways sorry for rambling in the asks here LMAO as you can see Soldier 11 has occupied my whole BRAIN.

THIS IS CRAZY AHSJDJSJSD YOURE RIGHT THOUGH!!!

did you know soldier 11 and anby also have the eame face model? like exactly , which leads to the clone theory as everyone in ZZZ has different meshes and models

aside fromt he huge lore i find it funny that if they are clones why is soldier 11 just slightly taller like damn they rlly did do anby dirty 😭

[adrunkskeletonsduck]

Could I request a neytiri x fem reader from the first movie?? The reader is falling in love with her a similar way as jake. Maybe she doesn’t allow them to destroy the tree? That would be so great!!! I just love your writing!!! <3333 Thank you!!

“Tʜᴇ Lɪɢʜᴛ Sʜᴏᴛ Dɪᴀᴍᴏɴᴅs Fʀᴏᴍ Hᴇʀ Eʏᴇs”

➜ Pairing: Neytiri x fem!reader

➜ Summary: You reflect on the past few months under The Tree of Voices, regretting the lies you'd fed the girl who lay next to you.

➜ Warnings: Guilt, light angst, fluff

➜ Word Count: 1.5k

➜ Notes: This took me an ungodly amount of time to write, my apologies.

A liar.

That’s what you were. There was nothing about the past three months that hadn't been a lie, and this was by far the cruelest one you’d ever told, because this lie would destroy everything The People had ever known. They’d been rightfully skeptical about you, shunning you and casting you glares for the first few weeks, but as your lessons progressed, they’d warmed up to you and slowly you’d gained their trust. Just like you’d been sent to do. Well not all of them, mostly the children, but most of the older Omitikaya still resented you.

Neytiri had been the former, warming up to as you learned, and you wished she hadn't. Now you wished so badly that she’d never began to trust you. Maybe then it would save her the betrayal.

The People didn’t deserve this – Neytiri didn’t deserve this.

You deserved to be beaten until you were bloody and bruised for the façade, you’d put on for all these weeks, not smiled down upon by an angel such as herself as she led you through the most beautiful of places on Pandora. Your heart was heavy with guilt as you watched her in front of you, the knowledge of the evils you were about to bring upon her and her people burning it.

Neytiri was bright, she was brilliant and beautiful. She loved her people dearly, they were family, her fortress. She loved the animals and the forest, she had a deep bond with Eywa, and her love for the Great Mother only seemed to grow by the day. She was adventurous, basking in the thrill of a close call just like you. She was empathetic and caring. She was skilled with a bow, being able to shoot an arrow like no other, and she was proud. So very proud, and you could only predict that it would get her into trouble one day. The thought made you laugh a bit. She didn’t like the thought of being bound by responsibility, simply wanting to live her youth. She was everything you could've have asked for and more.

She deserved the world.

But you couldn’t give it to her. Only destroy it.

You supposed not everything was a lie. At least not anymore. Your love for the forest wasn’t. Neytiri had grown and nurtured it, showing you every beautiful detail in the endless landscape of vines and trees that were home to amazing species of animals, decorated in bright colors and stripes. There was nothing that she had missed to teach you about when it came to the forest and her people. She would go on and on about networks of energy that flowed through every living thing. She spoke about the value of every life, no matter how small or large, sophisticated or crude. At first, you’d discarded her words, nodded absent mindedly and internally scuffed at their teachings. Day after day she spoke of it though, and slowly you began to see the forest through her eyes. Slowly you understood.

You understood the way the Na’vi lived was beautiful, something that you’d never realized you’d earned for until you’d come here. You admired the lack of industrialization and the simplicity of their way of life. The harmony they lived in with the animals, the value they placed on life – something that had somehow slipped from the hands of humanity. There was nothing savage about these people, quite the opposite in fact. They were honest and kind. They viewed each other not as simply neighbors, but as family. The only crime they had ever committed was not allowing humanity to walk over them.

Neytiri had opened your eyes, taught you how to see. Now you’d pay her back with the blood of her people and the sting of betrayal.

Much like the forest and Pandora, every little thing about her had become beautiful to you. The sparkles in her eyes as she spoke about something that excited her and the way her voice rose a pitch higher, her words becoming faster ever so slightly. The subtle sway of her hips as she walked, or the way her braids moved delicately with each step. The way her skin shone as the light hit it and her lips that stretched into a wide smile when you’d say something not so funny, but she’d laugh anyway. Her voice, smooth and sweet. You could listen to her talk for hours.

Every moment with her had been magical, each one more rose tinted then the last as you fell harder and harder. Archery lessons would make your stomach burst into butterflies at the close proximity the two of you shared as she made sure your form was proper and bow was lined up with the target properly. At first, she had kept the contact at a minimal, jumping away from you as if your touch had burned her, but now she would take her time, easing into your presence.

Ikran riding was one of your favorite pass times with her. Watching as the window blew through her hair, the light cascading down on her skin, casting a beautiful – almost angelic – glow as she maneuvered through the sky. Language lessons were hard, but she made it all the better, and despite your frustration you couldn’t help but grin as she shook her head at your stupidity.

There was a pond not too far away from Home-Tree that Neytiri would drag you to before dinner, but after it had gotten dark, leading you into the water with her for a nightly swim. The water was always a lukewarm temperature, and it was always refreshing after a long day tracking through dirt and mud in such a warm climate. Sometimes the two of you would only stay in the water for a short while, getting out before even thirty minutes had passed. Other times you’d stay in for an hour or more, only getting out when your fingers began to prune or you were sick of watching fish dart through the water, their underbelly's illuminated in greens and purples from the luminescent pond floor. Then when you’d get out, you’d dry yourselves and help Neytiri squeeze the water out of her hair, insisting that she never got all the water out and you’d do it for her. Just another excuse to be close to her.

But today, today held all your favorite moment with her by far. You’d officially become part of the people that day, and the already high tension between the two of you had risen even higher, like water boiling over as she painted you with white lines that ran from your head to toes. Each delicate drag of her fingers setting your skin ablaze under them. The scene had felt intimate, maybe more than it was, but to brief for your liking before you had to step out and presenting yourself to the rest of the clan. Her mother had placed a hand over your chest, her father to your side and Neytiri to your left. She’d beamed up at you, smiling with what could only be describes as pride and it made your chest warm to know you’d made her proud.

That night she’d dragged you away from Home-Tree to, Utral Aymokriyä, The Tree of Voices. You’d pretended to be reluctant to go with her, trying to hide how eager you were to get a moment alone together. She’d run through the forest with such energy and excitement to show you this place that was so sacred to her people it was you’d hardly been able to keep up. That’s when the tension had broken between the two of you, under the purple and pink lights of Utral Aymokriyä and you were so glad it did because whatever new found thing you had now was so much better than the dancing around your feelings had been. It was real, and beautiful, genuine, and pure.

Well as pure as it could have been with the type of secret you were keeping.

“What are you thinking about?” Neytiri whispered, pulling you from your thought, her eyes scanning your face tiredly as she lay against you. Her legs were tangled between yours, one arm slung around your neck and the other by her head on your chest as she lay on your chest. You looked down at her.

“You,” your answer made her lips stretch into a small smile, a soft giggle escaping her. The sound made your heart flutter.

“What about me?” She pressed. You grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead with a thoughtful hum, pretending to take a moment to think.

“Everything I love about you,” you finally said after an exaggerated pause. Her sleepy smile only widened.

“What are those things?” her eyelids begin to slip shut as she finishes the question, the smile on her face beginning to fade as exhaustion takes hold of her.

“The list is to long to start now, we’d be laying here all night if I was to begin,” you whispered to her, raking a hand through her hair soothingly, lulling her to sleep. A moment later her chest began to rise and fall in a steady rhythm, her breath evening and her face relaxing, the peace of sleep pulling her under.

“Get some sleep my love,” you whispered to her sleeping form, “tomorrow's going to be a long day.”

Taglist: @cherridile @aonungmybf @aurora-starwars 

[asenvs3000f24]

Unit Ten Blog

As a nature interpreter, it is my job to bring knowledge about the environment to anyone willing to listen and to guide others in establishing or reinvigorating their own relationship with the environment. This role puts me in a position to inform, but it also puts me in a position to cause potential damage to the environment and people’s understanding of it should I not do my job well. Therefore, it is incredibly important that I am careful in what I say and how I attempt to share my interpretations with others, taking into account not only my own ethics, but those of the people around me, while also trying to avoid letting my own biases seep into what I’m saying. While I am able to bring my passion for the environment to others, I shouldn’t necessarily be trying to sway their opinions in one way or another, but instead I should simply guide them towards forming their own opinions once they have all the information they need.

In terms of examining my personal ethics as a nature interpreter, I have been reflecting on the educational journey I have experienced this semester. Over the course of my life, I have taught and been taught many things, but rarely did I consider how my interpretation of these topics was swayed by other people nor how I impacted other people’s interpretations. Reading over my blogs from the past nine weeks, I can witness my own journey into gaining an understanding and appreciation of how interpretation can impact teaching. In my blog post from Unit One, I detailed how my relationship with nature began as one of peaceful appreciation and evolved into a desire to protect and conserve the environment I love so much. This has not changed, and I think my ethics as an interpreter are based in these values. As an interpreter, my moral intention is still the conservation of natural landscapes, and in giving other people the knowledge and opportunity to appreciate the environment in their own way. Not necessarily in the same way I do but along the teachings of the “gift of beauty” and the other associated gifts that were listed in Chapter 5 of our course textbook. My ethics do not lie in convincing or changing peoples’ minds necessarily, but in broadening the scope of their views and guiding them towards making informed opinions inspired by their own ethics and values.

One belief I hold about education and interpretation is that you are never done learning. I think it is important for all of us, no matter how substantial our education, to approach different topics with an open mind and to not feel closed off by our own previous knowledge. By understanding that there is always more that we don’t know, we can allow ourselves to be better learners, and I think also better interpreters. No interpreter or interpretation is infallible, and it is important for us as interpreters to be able to grow and adapt and be willing to change our interpretations based on new information or audience responses. Just because you know something to be one way doesn’t mean that your audience can’t teach you new things, be it about the topic at hand or more broad things like delivery methods or emotional responses to the material. This course has especially been an eye-opener to me about how little I knew regarding environmental interpretation and teachings. I was especially intrigued when reading about artistic approaches to environmental education in Jan van Boeckel’s article “At the heart of art and earth: An exploration of practices in arts-based environmental education.” I hadn’t thought much about the many different methods of teaching environmental topics, and I especially think that I would have benefited from some more artistic approaches over the many years of my schooling. Readings like this are prime examples of how there is always more to learn and different ways to interpret something. It is so important for us as interpreters not to sequester ourselves into a narrow-minded way of thinking and teaching and learning, but to always be open to new ideas and opportunities.

As a nature interpreter, I believe I have a responsibility to provide a voice for the environment. What I mean by this is that the environment and the natural landscapes around us cannot speak for themselves. And while there is so much research happening all the time about the environment and the global climate, this research can be hard for people not involved in science to understand. This is where I come in, so that I can attempt to inform people without letting them get caught up in technical aspects and complicated jargon. In addition to informing people about the scientific side of things, the role of an interpreter goes much further. It is my job to also take into account history, cultural norms and values, and mine and my audiences’ values when acting as an interpreter. By doing this, I can provide an informative and thought-provoking interpretation of the environment to my audience that allows them to gain new knowledge about it and formulate their own opinions and ideas.

Now, the question is what is the best way for me as a nature interpreter to accomplish everything I have just laid out for you? The answer to this—like everything I have discussed above—is one that is individual for every interpreter, and I think also every situation. For me, personally, I really like an artistic approach to nature interpretation. An example of this is in the group assignment we have all been working on, my group chose to formulate our lesson as a story for audiences to listen to. Our story was a narrative complete with dynamic characters and exciting events, but also provided different viewpoints surrounding its topic and taught some valuable lessons about history and environmental conservation, and even a few moral lessons about bravery and stewardship. I really enjoyed this approach to interpretation and hope to continue using artistic methods throughout my career as an interpreter.

On a final note of reflection, I think this course has been a valuable learning experience for me as both student and teacher. I didn’t quite understand the significance of interpretation at the beginning of the semester but now view it as a very important aspect of education. I hope to take these lessons I have learned and to apply them in different areas of my life for many years to come. Thanks for reading.

References

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., and Knudson, D. M. (2018). Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage. Sagamore-Venture Publishing.

Van Boeckel, J. (2015). At the heart of art and earth: An exploration of practices in arts-based environmental education. Environmental Education Research, 21(5), 801-802. http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/13504622.2014.959474

[staring-at-my-keyboard]

The parallels and differences in how Thomas and Atlas were brought up and how that translates to them in the present make me so Unwell I need to talk about them.

The parallels first: both Thomas and Atlas were raised as commodities by parents that viewed them as more of their roles as opposed to children, and as their present selves they both still have one foot stuck in that, but in different ways, because neither of them really know how to get out of it.

Now onto specifics.

Long-ass multi-character ramble under the cut, warnings for: financial + emotional + child abuse (nothing physical).

This was a ride to write, I love my blorbos so much why have I done this to them

Atlas

So, Atlas first. My boy was raised in rural Northern England, in a tiny village, to a French father and British mother that owned the sole bookshop. Atlas, as a firstborn, was slated to get the bookshop upon their parents’ passing. This was defined the moment they were born, to the point where they were never able to truly develop ambitions or plans of their own— their entire world was their village and the surrounding wilderness and countryside, and they were neither content nor upset with that; it was how it was. Seven years after they were born their brother Théodore comes along, and Atlas got to pick the name, which already cemented them as a foundational figure in Theo’s life not only to them, but their parents: now, not only were they the inheritor of their family’s legacy, they were the Eldest Child, they had duties to their family and their brother, specifically. They were fine with this, of course they were— they weren’t allowed to feel otherwise. Atlas was pulled from school at age 10 to further focus on helping around the shop and getting a feel for it, since all they really needed was knowledge of arithmetic and how to read, while Theo remained in school and even had university aspirations as Atlas watched him from behind the purchase desk. They read vigorously, and self-taught quite a few (very randomly-chosen) things, and took dear care of their brother until he was killed— after their parents had died— which they perceived as a failing on their part because they were supposed to protect him, so the least they could do for the life they were responsible for was avenge it.

Atlas was an emotional child, that grew into an emotional adult, but from a certain (young) age was expected to have maturity and decorum. Add this expectation to the fact that they’re autistic, and you have someone who has done their damndest to figure out social norms who also has a funky emotional cocktail brewing just beneath their skin at Literally All Times. Their anger is an explosive thing, if something makes them happy they will beam like the sun, if they cry for anything- happiness, sadness, panic, etc they will apologize repeatedly out of habit to anyone who isn’t Thomas and do their best to eliminate any evidence of tears. Despite this, there are still certain things they aren’t allowed to feel, so they simply don’t think about it and shut it off. Their deepest darkest secret from themself is that they never wanted to come to the Neath, and regret it every day; if they hadn’t felt an absolute obligation to their deceased parents they wouldn’t have even tracked the killer, and instead would’ve remained on the Surface and mourned.

Now, despite this, there are many things about the Neath they relish: the connections they’ve made, the studies they’ve been able to pursue— while self-teaching filled some of that hole that was left by having a (supposedly) pre-defined fate, suddenly having a future open to them was kind of intoxicating when they first realized it, and even after years that realization is part of what leads them to be so reckless and obsessive with what seizes their interest; they are pursuing things because they can, why would they not go all-out? (Once they and Thomas grew closer and he learned how bad they were at taking care of themself he was appalled, and while they were initially confused they now think it’s the sweetest thing and picture him almost every time they eat.)

Thomas

My beloved NPC… Thomas is Neathborn, the scion and only child to an exceedingly wealthy family that has a high standing with devils, and has hated those facts for his entire life. His parents sold their souls before he was born, and the emptiness behind their eyes was always somewhat off-putting to him, and as a child he associated it with why he was constantly shuttled off to governesses, why his parents just seemed so uninterested in him as a person— although they were interested in him as a shiny bauble, the final piece to complete their image of a family of standing: man, wife, heir. He was on the piano when he could barely walk, taught Latin and French, brought to social functions when he got old enough to not cry when he got tired— none of these were for enrichment, they were his parents’ way of polishing him for the masses. Once he hit adolescence and his personality began defining itself, his parents began trying to get him to sell his soul to further advance their wealth and status, and he refused. Years and years of him living the curated image, of them hounding him, and he still refused; his parents weren’t as involved in raising him as they thought, and he has always seen souls as precious things. Cut to him in his late teens, he starts dating— his parents realize they can use this. For years, any partner he would have would either be tempted out of their soul by his parents, after which he would fall out of love with them, or socially ruined if they refused. Then there were the more casual flings, for when Thomas didn’t want the emotional tax that came with a relationship— even then, oftentimes the people he slept with just used that for gossip points, or to gain a social standing. Years pass, Thomas gets sick of what going against his parents costs (even if he doesn’t have a partner they can threaten, he is entirely reliant on them, they’re not dying anytime soon, and they regularly remind him of those facts), he stops getting with people altogether until Atlas stumbles into his life and (accidentally) sweeps him off his feet.

Now? Thomas went from ‘always somewhat threatened by’ to ‘utterly fucking terrified of’ his parents, because he has someone to lose again, someone he adores with every part of himself. Every time they send him and invite to a gala or dinner he goes, every time they request he brings Atlas as his +1 he does, because even though if he had his way he would never see them again, the very thought of ignoring his parents fills him with dread— he knows what they can do, he’s seen it firsthand. He’s a generally put together person until the topic of devils or soul trade comes up, or he and Atlas are invited somewhere as a couple, in which case he will need to make an active (and often unsuccessful) effort not to panic— but the panic rarely shows, of course, his parents made sure to raise him to always act proper no matter how he felt. Hell, he can’t even officially move in with Atlas, because he knows that if he left the townhouse his parents gave him for a scholar’s apartment the consequences would be dire (the pair get around this by spending periods of weeks or months in each other’s homes, but that has shifted to Thomas simply spending stretches of time at Atlas’ apartment).

[babyspacebatclone]

I can’t believe it.

I can’t believe it.

I found it.

I found the fucking ABA textbook.

I found the thing that convinced me as a psychology undergrad that ABA was insane.

I can’t….

I can’t.

You don’t understand.

I’d almost convinced myself I was crazy, that I’d exaggerated this after a decade

But it exists, it was real.

This really was in the first fucking chapter. Of a book. Published in 2013.

This.

(This becomes a ramble, and not a cute raccoon version. Let’s add a cut for sanity.)

Edit: Let’s also move things around so this is discussable.

Please bear with me - this experience hurt me.

Context: Here is the Amazon ratings for this textbook:

4.5 out of 5 stars.

Reviews talk about its breezy, conversational nature, and how simply it breaks down behavioral principles.

This is true, and when I first encountered the book (then the 6th edition) in 2012 I was stymied.

The behavioral stuff made sense, and I could see the applications.

But the tone….. From that first chapter bashing Freud in the 2010s as though that were evidence about the efficacy of ABA, the philosophy of the textbook felt - arrogant, egotistical, dismissive of any other viewpoint in a way that was anathema to my personal therapy philosophy.

Then I realized the author had been 75 as I was reading it, and just chalked it up to him fighting a decades long fight he didn’t realize had been over - the need for scientific rigor in psychology - for decades.

Which made me confused as to why it was still being used without comment on the author’s… underlying batshitness, but I again chalked that up to the fact the grad assistant had to take over the course a third of the way through.

I just double checked, and the 3 ABA courses I took had been mandatory for my degree and not just recommended electives after the first because wow this fucking shit.

Anyway, my second of the ABA courses had been taught by an adjunct (someone who works in the field and teaches applicable courses), and made sense.

There was still some “everything’s programmed responses to external input” vibes, but that’s behaviorism and it felt more like a different philosophy I could respect but choose a different branch instead of a…. absolute that viewed me as an inferior being if I didn’t submit to their regal superiority.

In conclusion, I think the cognitive motivational theorists do psychology a service by raising the issue of avoidance contingencies in human affairs, but I think they get it almost completely wrong in stressing the suppressive effects of passive avoidance or punishment contingencies and generally ignoring the beneficial effects of active avoidance. In addition, I think they do our field a service by formally raising the issue of intrinsic reinforcers in human affairs, but again I think they get it almost completely wrong in suggesting that intrinsic reinforcers are all we need.

At the end of my rants, I like to add: Of course, this is only my opinion; and I could be wrong, but probably not. [emphasis added]

That is the actual fucking close of an actual fucking article Malott wrote in the early 2000s slamming on Cognitive Behavioral Therapy.

My mild misgiving about misunderstanding the intention of the textbook and the author???

Thrown out the fucking window in my third (and I repeat require course for my degree).

Which was taught by an equality elderly good personal friend of the author.

…

I have more I could add.

But I shall end this here.

This author is still treated as a member in good standing in respected ABA organizations.

After…. this bullshit just four years after the 7th edition of this “wonderful” textbook was published.

OG post below, only read the quoted section if you want to laugh, it’s fucking mid and doesn’t express why this individual is a piece of shit who should never have been allowed to fucking influence anyone, let alone be responsible for Autistic children, let alone teach people to fucking hate anyone not “perfectly logical” like oh so holy and superior them.

[begin quoted section]

WHY JUST A BEHAVIORAL VIEW?

Sid’s Seminar

MAX: I’ve been reading ahead, and it looks as if this book deals mainly with behavior analysis. It doesn’t say much about other approaches to psychology. Why not psychoanalysis, Freud, Piaget, information processing, cognitive psychology, humanistic psychology?

JOE: What do you expect? The title of the book is Principles of Behavior.

TOM: That may be the title of the book, but shouldn’t we be getting a broader view of the various psychological theories in this class?

SID: An interesting point. Psychology sure isn’t short on theories. We have Freud, Jung, Piaget, cognitive psychology, humanistic psychology, gestalt psychology...

JOE: The people in California produce a new pop theory almost every week.

SID: Here’s what I’ve found in teaching this course. I tried to cover all the theories, but the students were shortchanged. They didn’t learn enough about any one theory to really understand it, let alone make use of it. At best, they learned a few clichés they could use in making small talk. They didn’t appreciate or understand the theories. They gained no solid knowledge. They learned no useful skills. On the other hand, when I devote a whole course to a single approach, the students understand and appreciate that approach—both its strengths and its weaknesses.

TOM: OK, but why behavior analysis? Why not Freud?

SID: Because I’m a professional behavior analyst. Behavior analysis is what I teach best. However, I used to assign a chapter on Freud that I was excited about but my students couldn’t get into Freud. (To see the Freud chapter, go to DickMalott.com.)

JOE: Also, behavior analysis has more scientific data supporting it and can be applied to more areas than any other approach.

SUE: Professor Harper said if you want to study Freud, you have to go to the English department. He said almost no major psychology department in North America takes Freud too seriously any more.

SID: Here’s one more reason I concentrate on behavior analysis, rather than an eclectic approach. With a bachelor’s degree in general psych, there’s almost no job you can get using what you’ve learned about psychology. But, if you’ve had some training in behavior analysis, like what you’ll get in this course, you can get a job as soon as you graduate, using applied behavior analysis, if you’re willing to go where the jobs are; and they’re all around the country and starting to be all around the world. Most of these bachelor’s jobs involve working with children classified as autistic, people classified as mentally impaired, and people with brain injuries. (To find more about behavior-analysis job opportunities, go to DickMalott.com.) And we’ll study more about working with these clients throughout this course.

[end quoted section, available here to read in the context of the chapter it appeared in, the link is “POB Chapter 1”]

The entire. Fucking. Book. Was written with that insufferable ego.

This was my textbook for a 400 level course.

It counted as a prereq for the Masters levels.

Written by a man who…

…..

Wait one second, I just opened the author’s Wikipedia page and…

….

Fuck.

Did not know that.

If you don’t know this place:

There have been repeated attempts to shut down the [Judge Rotenberg] center by autism rights advocates, disability rights advocates, and human rights advocates. Other notable people who have opposed the center include Ari Ne'eman, Shain Neumeier and Lydia Brown. Organizations that oppose the center include the Autistic Self Advocacy Network, Disability Rights International, and Community Alliance for the Ethical Treatment of Youth.

……….

I’m going to go chug some Diet Dr. Pepper, since I don’t drink alcohol because of the medication I take.

[ffredmujkic]

wonderfully bizarre by bendigo fletcher is such a fish and chips song.

"And if I were to win for you the skin of a timbered snake - Would you consider me your comfort in danger?" it shows so much of gillions thinking that he could only be loved if hes earned it if hes able to show himself as someone useful.

"you could wear me like a ring" something something abt gil being status symbol. (the whole line in his, if u give fish a family, abt being adored but alone) going back to had habits (even if aware of their harm)

"You'd be the mercy under my cruelty- My revelation, bloodshed free" gillion's journery through out the campaign, his biggest change is being kinder. gentler. early campaign gil always chose violence, he saw that the only responsible action to take against a villian was to cut off their head. hes soften so much over the campaign. hes always been caring yet through his friendships with chip (and jay this just isnt abt them) he learns different methods to handling problems.

"Do you wanna get married at the Cherokee Cemetery?" he just wants to get married. hes unlearned at lot a LOT of toxic unhealthy things. but he clearly upholds marriage as still an important and loving act. i think that while their relationship is very anarchic, gil would still love a wedding. (purely my own headcannon tho)

"Where the blue grass creeps over deep decades of devotion. Warm underneath the frost" come on.

in the context of gillion though this can be further, hes incredible loyal to the undersea though it never cared for him in return. A country that made him harsh and serious despite his real personality when allowed to relax. the frost can be a strong yet harmful loyalty to the undersea. (it reminds me of that even if im stretching) his friendship with chip and jay allowing him to feel a genuine devotion which is beneficial too him, that is reciprocated.

"We can build a home in a bush of azaleas- Dress it up in true morale paraphernalia- You'll never be alone in your bad dreams- Because together we could never be lost"

gillion was taken away from his family at an early age. chip was an orphan with no memory of even his name, to than get his adopted family ripped away from him. his attempts to form a new one forcing him into a gang. the two of them have been alone for a very very long time with no family or even friends, no home of their own. gillion constantly failed in his training. chip is implied to have done things he didnt always want to do to make price happy. yet despite earlier bumps in the relationship, them clashing each disagreement helps to deepen their bond as they figure out whats okay with with each other. and they really are never alone after finding each other

"your eyes prescribe a meaning for everything I do. I even find myself believing most of the words I say as true" the most impactful moment for chip what enable him to grow into the person he becomes over the course of the campaign is the fight in epsiode 15. it forced chip to address his actions have hurt hurt someone he was growing to care abt. chip said he wouldn't lie to gil anymore and he meant it. theres times where he tries to lie and cuts himself off. they built a home with trust and communication

"We can build a home in a bush of azaleas" since the line is repeating ill only say, they feel so comfortable around each other. all three captains are each others home. but especially chip and gil the way they are always seeking each other, their friend's name always on the tip of their toungue.

"We can be defined by the things we want"

a major theme in the show (or at least grizzly is trying to make it into one) is desire. gillion while having a lot of autonomy, driving a lot of the plot. he is also honor bound to a internal law where he must always protect others. gillion never acts out of a true selflessness, his actions are born from being taught that this is simply how he should operate. Because he is inherently worthless than all those around him, he has been assigned to protect. Never does gil think abt himseld if it concerns another life. gillion must be selfless, he is never allowed to want for himself. which is wonderfully contrasted by chip who is always seen as a selfish bastard despite not behaving like it in a while.

"I'll be a life full of free haircuts from the one that I love" chip in his happiet dream imagines himself with all his crew and arlin hanging out happily on the albatross. chip always pictures himself doing this pirate thing forever, but he is only 19. and with the trauma that its brought him, the constant risking your life. i think its fair to say that what he actually wants is just a simple life with his friends

[atschoolunfortunetly]

Wholesome Sonic and Tails Once Again!

I have testing today! I'm scared! Anyway, fic time! It ends very abruptly because I had no idea what else to write lol. Hope you enjoy it!

After everything that happened on Starfall Islands, one would think Sonic could deal with anything that was thrown his way. Sonic himself was confident in that statement. Which is why he hates how he doesn’t know how to deal with one thing, his feelings. Feelings were never his thing and honestly he never really knew what to do when negative ones came out. 

He has felt negative emotions before. He would be lying if he said he hasn’t. He’s been scared, nervous, upset, the whole lot but he never let any of them keep him down long. So, it made him confused on why his heart ached watching Tails pack away some of his most important equipment in a large case.

“Hey, Sonic, you mind grabbing me that contraption behind ya? I wanna work on it while I’m gone.”

“Alright, I gotcha.”

Sonic picked up the contraption and handed it to Tails with a small smile on his face. He lied earlier when he said he didn’t know what he was feeling. He knows damn well what it is but he doesn’t feel like admitting it. 

Tails is going out on his own and Sonic won’t be there. 

It wouldn’t be the first time Tails went out on his own adventure but something just felt different this time. This time Sonic won’t be near when Tails is exploring the world on his own. This time Tails won’t be gone for a week but months instead.

This time, Sonic is watching instead of acting. Watching as Tails grows up. Sonic remembers back when he first found Tails. The fox stuck to his side like glue and Sonic allowed him to stick. He taught the fox everything he knows and now…

Now Tails is taking a big, humongous step in his life.

And Sonic will only be able to witness it.

Sonic let out a light sigh as Tails zipped his suitcase shut. He stretched a bit before turning and facing Sonic.

Sonic raised a brow, “Got everything?”

“Almost.” Was Tails simple answer as he “dusted off” his hand despite the workshop being as clean as it could possibly be.

“Almost? What else could there be? You’re taking half the workshop!”

Tails puffed his cheeks, “No I’m not! I’m taking, like, ten things!”

Sonic chuckled, “You sure? This place feels barren to me!”

Tails let out a groan as Sonic chuckled some more, “You’re so dramatic.”

“It’s part of my charm!”

“What charm?”

Sonic sent Tails a glare, “I’ll have you know I have a ton of charm.”

“Mmm, nah don’t see it.”

“Why you-”

Sonic pulled Tails over to him and immediately trapped him in a light headlock and began giving him a light noogie.

“Gah! Sonic!”

Tails broke from his hold with ease before trying to fix his fur, “...Meanie.”

“Hey, you’re leaving! I feel like I deserve to noogie you at least one more time.”

“You can noogie me when I come back!”

Sonic simply rolled his eyes in response, “Yyyeah, but that won’t be for a while and my patience to noogie you is non-existent.”

Tails let out a huff, “Not my fault you don’t have patience in general.”

Sonic let out a fake dramatic gasp, “I do too have good patience in general!”

“Do not!”

“How would ya know?”

“Sonic, I’ve lived with you for years. You think I wouldn’t know how far your patience can stretch?”

Sonic rolled his eyes again, “Can’t be that bad.”

Tails simply sent Sonic a look that spoke for him. Sonic sighed and shook his head before Tails and him both broke out into laughter. Once they calmed down Sonic’s brain remembered what started the conversation in the first place.

“So, what else do you need before you leave?”

Tails paused before letting out a sigh, “It ain’t much, I can grab it before I leave.”

“Sure you won’t forget it?”

“It’s kinda hard to forget.”

“What, is it, like, the Miles Electric?”

“Sonic, I packed that up first. I would be a fool not to.” 

“Well, geez! How am I supposed to know that!”

Tails raised a brow, “Cause you’ve been watching me pack this entire time?”

“You put way too much trust in my memory.”

At that Tails let out a sigh, “Chaos, what will you do without me?”

“...I don’t know.”

Sonic leaned his back against the table he was near and Tails gave him a confused look wondering why the mood in the room seemed to lower. 

“Gee, I don’t think I've ever seen you this upset before.”

“I’m not upset! Just…I don’t know. You know me and my feelings, bro, I ain’t good at them.”

Tails sighed, “It’s just going to be a few months. And even then I’m going to be calling almost every weekend.”

“I know! That’s why I am so confused about things! Gah, emotions are weird! Why can’t they, I don’t know, be like running!”

“I agree, emotions suck. Why can’t they simply be normal? Why must feelings be, gasp, feelings!?”

“Feelings need to learn how to read the room…and my brain.”

Both brothers laughed at that.

“I’d fistfight my feelings if they were a person,” Tails admitted like it was his darkest secret.

“Feelings is, like, that one annoying guy that comes and bothers you during either really big events or the smallest thing.”

“Big events are understandable but then sometimes it’s just- Why am I suddenly sad while making myself a snack! Did the snack personally send an encoded message to my brain or something?” Tails broke down laughing at the end of his sentence and Sonic joined him.

“The snack wants your tears because all of the snacks you eat are always dry.”

“No, they’re not!”

“Yes, they are!”

The mood in the room went back to normal as Tails and Sonic proceeded to continue talking about how awful each other’s snack tastes were. Everything had to calm down, however, when Tails picked up the suitcase and proceeded to pack it into the Tornado. The sun was high in the air as Tails did a quick check-up on the Tornado to make sure it was alright to go.

“Got everything? Did everything?” Sonic asked, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“Almost, I need to do one more thing,” Tails answered.

“Well, what is it-”

Sonic was cut off as Tails ran right at him, wrapping his arms around the hedgehog in a tight squeeze. Sonic immediately returned the hug and the brothers stood their ground for a solid minute before Tails spoke up.

“I love you bro.”

Silence only lasted a few seconds before Sonic chuckled, “Ew, sentimental words.”

Tails immediately pulled himself away, “Nevermind.”

“I was joking! I love ya, bro!” Sonic quickly responded as Tails let out a laugh.

“I know, I know.”

Silence made a comeback as Sonic and Tails stared the other down with smiles on their faces.

“Well, this is goodbye partner,” Sonic sighed.

“Yep. Once again, I’ll be calling on the weekends!” Tails shouted as he sat himself down in the pilot seat.

“If you don’t I’ll find you! That’s a threat!” Sonic shouted back.

“I’ll beat you up! Don’t test me!”

“Try me, air boy!”

“That insult doesn’t make sense!”

“You don’t make sense!”

Tails grinned a cocky smirk before promptly shouting, “At least I am a cryptic on purpose!”

“What does that mean?!”

“You know what it means!”

“No!? I don’t!?”

“Byeee~!”

With those words Tails turned the plane on as Sonic kept shouting at him.

“What!? I can’t hear you over the plane!”

“I hate-love you!”

“I hate-love you as well!”

“I hope your trip is safe and satisfactory!”

“Thanks! I’ll call ya later!”

“Bye!”

“Bye!”

With those words the plane made its take-off and Sonic stood where he was until the plane was out of sight. Once it was, Sonic let out a groan as he felt like a weight was added to his body.

“Well this sucks, I’m going to crash on the couch.”

And then he did.

[afvenvs3000f24]

Unit 10

As I develop as a nature interpreter, my ethics are based on the values my family taught me throughout my upbringing, what is morally right and wrong, lessons I've learned from life experiences, and courses I've taken involving religion, cultures, and the environment (such as this one).

Two things my parents have always been persistent in teaching me (regarding nature) were to always live in the present and enjoy your journey towards the future every day because you'll never get that time back, and never litter and never allow others around you to feel comfortable in doing so. My parents were the first of their family to immigrate out of Venezuela and into Canada because they were aware of the declining state of their government and wanted to ensure a safe future filled with infinite possibilities for their children and themselves. They often tell me stories from their childhood, and what it was like to live constantly surrounded by nature and see firsthand natural phenomena that aren't possible to see often in Ontario. Hearing about their experiences and the poverty surrounding Venezuela at the time helped me realize at a very young age, that life is what you make of it, and the actions following your interpretations of your life will determine your experience. Although my parents didn't have the accessibility as children to buy new toys every so often or didn't have the trendiest brands of fashion, they never once made those factors influence their view of their quality of life. Anytime they got the opportunity to travel with their families to the States on vacation or got any luxury out of the ordinary, they never once compared it to anything else and were always simply grateful and present for the moment.

One of my personal favourite photos of my family and me while visiting some cousins who had just moved to Montreal.

Being a highly observant person, I've always noticed people's attitudes in different and similar situations; comparing these unconnected people and their interpretation and perspective of where they are in life, I saw that the biggest factors to their happiness and emotional well-being were having a positive attitude and determination. As I've been growing, these two attributes have been my main lead through life and it has allowed me to grow better time-management skills to have a better work-life balance which I struggled with, during the early transition from high school to university life. The key to beginning habit stacking (a term I learned about on a TikTok video about uni life tips) was developing an early morning routine and staying relatively consistent. I found this trick perfect for me as I already had routines in place every morning and night, such as my face routine, that I could stack other habits on top of it. If you've read any of my past blogs, you'll know by now I like to interpret many things in my life through a more spiritual perspective; I've always felt that you can set the tone for the day with the energy you approach it, but being that I can sometimes wake up moody if I didn't get enough sleep, I found it hard to wake up between 7-8 am and get a productive start out of my day. After speaking with my mom about it, she reminded me about changing my "I have to" perspective into a "I get to" view. So, rather than waking up in the morning and immediately reminding myself about all the responsibilities I'd need to get done that day, I took those early moments of waking up to express and feel gratitude for a couple of minutes as I pushed myself out of bed. To be completely transparent, my first couple of attempts didn't work out as planned, but once I was determined to spend time with nature for at least a total of 45 minutes a day and incorporate my walking meditations during it, it became a set routine; I had completely underestimated the long term benefits and how much more productive, relaxed, and focused I would be throughout the day. Having this set routine of waking up and immediately going for a brisk walk while listening to a gratitude meditation, then after the simple sounds of nature and its early morning quietness, allows me to stop and take a pause in my day to myself to be consciously present, grateful and aware to not take things for granted and every day is a gift. Additionally, as mentioned, this morning routine completely changed my energy throughout my days, making me feel more spiritually grounded and connected to nature and its inhabitants; I also found myself much less stressed, more patient, and looking forward to my mornings.

Photo of my parents while the 3 of us were on our daily summer morning bike rides.

As for the second key lesson about having a strong stance on keeping our earth clean and not littering it, I feel the message ran deeper than expected for me personally. Since I had always felt a connection to nature and animals, those were the types of shows I enjoyed watching on a children's channel called TVOKids such as Zoboomafoo and Wild Kratts which added to the passion for recognizing our responsibility in caring for the environment even if it seems many don't. For my parents, the littering issue in the cities was a complete culture shock to them and they had never seen something so irresponsible be so normalized. But even after moving from Toronto to Mississauga to Oakville to then Stoney Creek throughout the years of our upbringing, they noticed that this wasn't just a "teen" problem, it was a problem with many people losing sight of how bad it is for the environment and selfishly not caring about everyone's due diligence in keeping our areas and the animals clean and safe. I would often walk my dog through many grassy areas and parks that had soccer fields, water park areas, swings, etc. but every time I would I'd feel stressed and worried, making sure he wouldn't step on broken glass, pick up and eat garbage thrown, or even get too close to general litter. I'd often mention it to my dad and the next day my entire family would go out to pick up and clean up the trash around the neighbourhood for around 3 hours. Of course, being sometimes a moody teenager at the time, I didn't appreciate the lesson my parents were trying to teach us, I found it unfair that others could mindlessly throw their trash just for us to voluntarily pick it up for them. But as I've grown, I've realized the message of putting action and change into something that is making you unhappy, standing up completely for what you want and believe in, as well as hopefully inspiring others to do the same, being the trailblazers.

[marchsfreakshow]

Poems - Sea Salt [JPM x reader]

I fucking love this gif so much He's so fucking handsome.

I may make more cause i like showing my poems to y'all this way.

This may be considered a continuation of the first one.

Main warning!: Suicide mentions.

Extra warning: fluffy to all hells and puppy nickname (Ik some people are weird about that)

James' perspective (I'm sorry in advance)

~~~~~~~~~

I had walked past the empty bar and spotted a notepad out of the corner of my eye. It distracted me, so I turned around and looked at the open page. There was another poem by my Y/N, it was less scribbly and more professional looking. I wondered if they had been able to get a job writing poems. Either way, they were divine poems in my eyes, whether they agreed or not. The yellow pages almost blended into the bar table, like no one had seen it before. My thoughts took over me, wondering what it was about, I hadn't read it correctly, just skimming over the words.

The title captived me though. "Sea Salt." Footsteps stopped immediately once I said the title, I couldn't tell who they were though, footsteps come past me every day. "Shit..." It was Y/N, the voice confirmed it. Her worry sounded genuine, but I paid no mind to it. They had no reason to worry, so I stood up and smiled widely at them. "Can I read this poem my sweet bird? I want to know what it is by this title."

"It's..just..about the sea. Wrote it when I thought of the beach." They mentioned nonchalantly. It confused me, there must be more to it, I saw hints of suicide when I skimmed through it. "You miss a lot of things when you're dead and stuck in one place." That came out more as a mutter, so I simply nodded in response, wanting them to go on about the poem idea. I loved hearing their voice, it filled me with satisfaction I don't believe murder could top. Killing is genuinely an excellent way to pass the time, however, I suppose for Y/N it was writing or drawing.

"I must be boring you darling I'm sorry." They sighed, but I shushed them quickly and tightly wrapped my arms around them.

"You are never boring my sweet. Will you allow me to read it? Having a fresh pair of eyes can help you." Although it made me sad, the thought of ending one's own life is taught in a poem. But, staring into Y/N's eyes, I hoped they would allow me, giving them confidence about their writings. In the right hands, poems and stories can be wonderful things, and my little bird's work indeed was beautiful, even more so if they're reading it out loud.

Y/N reached behind me and picked up the pad, facing the page to me and hiding their own face. Taking it out of their hands, I started to read, already entranced by their handwriting. "Well, this is it. Im staring down at the water. It's lifting its head up to meet me. Why would you bend me this way? Leaving a beach with shells, crabs, and seas as friends." I took a breath after the first verse, thinking about how Y/N would often tell me family stories whenever they went to the beach. Whether it was a vacation or a sunny day in the hot summer, their family would take them, and make sure everyone saw how the sun's reflections made the water glisten like a sparkling diamond, or the sparkle in their beautiful eyes, which I could forever get lost in.

"James, how do you make my shitty poems sound so, alluring?" I was still holding onto their waist, their voice muffled due to my shoulder now being a pillow. A chuckle escaped my lips as I gave them a glance, reaching over to give y/n a kiss on their pretty little head.

"The air wasn't as crisp as it used to be. It became warm while I leaned in closer to my friend. It was panicking."

"It didn't know what to do. It couldn't help. It could only let the sea hold me up. But that is just a fantasy. A fantasy of the sea. Smelling the salts on the rocks, I opened my arms and let the sea take me away." Y/N finished, still not looking up from my shoulder. As soon as they did, I put the notepad down, picked Y/N up, and put them on the bartop, not caring what anyone else thought. A blush brushed their gorgeous face, now making eye contact with me.

"who's 'it' puppy?" While I only called them puppy when we were having intercourse, I had to get their attention so they could explain. My hands caressed Y/N's sides, gently, I hate letting go of them. I could have sworn I saw their blush deepen when I said their nickname. But the darkness of the bar did not help me in the slightest. Only light enough so I could read the words on the tinged page. Black on a mute yellow, the black was enhanced, like how Y/N's soft lips were enhanced the moment they licked their lips subconsciously. "Well?" I mentioned quietly, giving them a smile again. Their roaming hands mimicked mine, teasing me at the wrong time. Distracted or not, I would get an explanation out of my pretty puppy.

" 'It' is the sea animals mentioned earlier. They can't do anything about me wanting to fall to my death." Giggles escaped their lips as a concern spread over my own face. Immediately, I hoped this wasn't recounting a genuine attempt at something so foolish, and their giggles worried me more and more. especially since they were now avoiding my harsh gaze, eyebrows furrowed in worry and anger. Soon enough, they noticed my concern and stopped, letting me lean on one of their hands. A heavy sigh left their sensual lips, avoiding the gaze I was giving them. "Dad died on one of our trips. He was my best friend.."

"Oh, my pretty girl..." I exclaimed, promptly holding them close to my own cold body. "My love you should have never considered ending your life because of your father's death. Would he want you to carry on your life?" Their sobs were quiet but apparent, so I gave them a kiss on each of their cheeks and wiped away the tears with the pad of my thumb.

I held them close, letting them cry until I picked them up again, and walked them to our shared room. Gently, I placed them on the bed, being delicate with them still. Y/N's sobs and cries stopped, and I lay next to them, hushing them still and kissing their forehead occasionally. "I love you my pretty bird, don't worry about your wonderful little head about the memories," I spoke, but in a hushed whisper. They fell asleep, so I kept a hand on their hand and soon fell asleep after they did so.