#they're pretty much the right hand of the convergence

[worldwhampion]

nms 9-page art grind event 2023 (hal and dave a space odyssey cameo)

also go look at aether and andro HERE

[thesinglesjukebox]

LADY GAGA AND BRUNO MARS - "DIE WITH A SMILE"

14 years after "Grenade," Bruno finally found someone who would do the same...

[5.70]

Kayla Beardslee: Hey, when is that Lady Gaga and Bruno Mars collab being released? [5]

Ian Mathers: Mars and Gaga are both skilled at their craft in a way that often seems like a throwback to an earlier era of the art/industry, taking the biggest swings possible in terms of seeking mass appeal without feeling like they're compromising or calculated, talented mimics and style chameleons when they want to be. Working together on a big, heartfelt, suitable-for-all-occasions ballad actually feels perfect along those lines. The result is the kind of sturdily good (or "good," depending on your sensibilities) song that, if it catches you at the right moment in your life, might make you bust out crying. [7]

Joshua Lu: This collaboration would've been unthinkable in 2010; now that their careers have somehow converged, the outcome feels weirdly predictable. The emotional heft, vocal runs, and vague nostalgia are there, even if all it does is fill that "Perfect Duet"-sized hole in pop radio. "Die With a Smile" can't help but feel underwhelming in the context of their career trajectories — the kind of corny balladry that Bruno's outgrown and that Gaga mostly uses just to recapture the general public — but it's impossible to wholly reject when it's this nicely crafted. [6]

Grace Robins-Somerville: Most Obamacore song of 2024, hands down. "Die with a Smile" is this very specific meld of the era when you couldn't go to the supermarket without hearing a Bruno Mars ballad and when Gaga was doing a country pivot (although this is far blander than anything on Joanne). It's been a while since I've heard such blatant Grammy bait. [3]

Jackie Powell: Entertainment Weekly's Joey Nolfi wrote that “Die with a Smile” is a song that recalls “the emotional bravado” of “Shallow,” the Grammy- and Oscar-winning smash from Lady Gaga’s A Star Is Born. He’s correct. “Die With a Smile” thrives upon accented and intentional dynamics while making vague and simple lyrics mean more than it they do on the page. That’s also what made “Shallow” so convincing. The difference on “Die With A Smile” is that Bruno Mars is more Lady Gaga’s equal than Bradley Cooper ever was. Mars has more to sing on a song that has Gaga’s name billed first, but both artists shine without the other having to sacrifice. Gaga’s part, which begins at around a minute and a half until the song's end, transforms this from a Silk Sonic B-side into something that’s much more memorable, emotionally resonant and cinematic. It's a song that makes me wish I had someone to sing it to.  [9]

Katherine St. Asaph: So old-fashioned that YouTube's preroll ad recommended me Botox, and so definitively a Bruno Mars song that I'm genuinely unsure why the credits are in the order they're in. It works, albeit in an unexciting way, because Bruno and Gaga have practiced melodrama for years -- see "I'd take a bullet straight to my brain" and "not even the Gods above can separate the two of us," respectively -- and have also practiced singing pretty then belting big. [7]

Jeffrey Brister: When it comes to Bruno Mars, I want immaculately executed genre pastiche, something that sounds like the past but keeps a thrilling modern affect. Gaga, for all of her artsy subversion and slight avant-garde leanings, has just as much of a traditionalist impulse, if not stronger; under the right circumstances, the results can be explosive. That alchemy is present here: two artists synced up and bringing out the best in each other’s performances. There is absolutely nothing new here, but it’s polished and perfectly executed. I’m a mark for that sort of thing. [7]

Jonathan Bradley: It's not right to say Bruno Mars is so adept with pastiche that he transcends it; pastiche is his artform, his milieu, the genre that this genre artist seeks to perfect. "Die With a Smile" has two ideas: the first being the familiar terrain of the Bruno Mars ballad, and the second being "What if a Bruno Mars ballad was Jeff Buckley?" Even a few years after the 1994 release of Grace, pop music seemed like it only had room in its past for an artist like Buckley: a soulful and beautiful singer-songwriter who leaned toward rock-god charisma rather than folkish introspection. Mars has Buckley's swooning fragility as well as his stormy squalls of guitar, but for all that Buckley represented the last of something, he never sounded like he was going over someone else's territory. That fundamentally does not work for Mars's attempt to recreate the sound; navigating someone else's territory is Mars's entire point. If "Die With a Smile" has a third idea, it's the addition of Lady Gaga, who is herself no stranger to pastiche (see the Madonna-isms of "Born This Way," the heartland rock of "You and I," or the way she slipped effortlessly into the Hollywood prestige turn that was "Shallow"). Here, she delivers only competence, as if she'd been asked to sing backup on a new recording of "When I Was Your Man" and found out at the last moment that the assignment had changed. [5]

Harlan Talib Ockey: Once you get past the surprise of "Die With a Smile" being a Jeff Buckley impression, it's remarkably insubstantial. "If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you" sounds clunky and hyper-literal next to, say, "I'd catch a grenade for you". At least the harmonies are nice. [4]

Iain Mew: Bruno Mars's progression makes it a fruitful idea to go back and invert "Grenade" from a distance. Back then, he took the prospect of death as an opportunity to bitterly prove his unmatched love. Now he meets no less than the end of the world with smooth certainty that it's a chance for mutual togetherness. Lady Gaga's way with projecting intensity and sincerity in the most extreme contexts makes her the perfect foil, and for two lines after she comes in, it's transcendent. Then Mars comes back in, and not only is there not enough space for Gaga to shine, there's barely any space at all. Maybe the old anxiety hadn't gone away completely after all. [7]

Alfred Soto: Bruno Mars hasn't sounded this convincing a love man in years, if ever. Too convincing: Gaga is a backup singer on her own single. Mars sure would fuck himself if he could. [5]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Someone pointed out recently how absurd it is that Lady Gaga's Twitter bio is literally advertising for the HBO Chromatica Ball special, Haus Labs cosmetics, Joker: Folie à Deux, and now "Die with a Smile." That sums up my feelings toward this entry into the Gaga canon: random and indicating a certain directionlessness—or perhaps overdirection?—in her career. She sounds great, and the bridge is perfect TikTok fodder, but she and Bruno Mars sound like they have as much sexual chemistry as brother and sister.  [4]

TA Inskeep: Mars and Gaga sound nice enough together, but there’s no frisson, no spark; they’re just two famous singers, singing a duet for you to stream and buy.  [5]

Scott Mildenhall: To the song's great benefit, the annihilatory proposition is underblown. Instead, its precise lilt is folded and finessed throughout, heading hither and thither without over-accelerating or escalating. It's a fine balance between ostentation and undulation. There's minimal vocal chemistry, but the blend is happening elsewhere. [7]

Hannah Jocelyn: I was with family over the weekend, and my brother asked “who is this??” like it was two stunning new artists on their debut single. Upon learning it was Lady Gaga and Bruno Mars, his excitement dissipated. Only Andrew Watt could make two of pop’s best vocalists sound anonymous (don’t get me started on that weightless drum sound he's inexplicably made his signature). I can’t tell where Gaga ends and Bruno begins, which is a horrible mental image. [5]

Taylor Alatorre: The drums treat every other measure like it's a climax because the entire song, or more precisely its billing, is one undifferentiated climax. Which means no build-up, no peaks or valleys, no memorable grooves or meaningful sense of release. It's just those two names together on a lighted marquee, a chart-watcher fanfic straight out of 2012, What Could Be measuring short against What Must Be, which in this case is the greatest common denominator of softer-than-talcum piano balladry. At least "Grenade" had cartoon bloodletting on its side, and "Shallow" had the benefit of context. "Die with a Smile" reaches for that old doomsday rhetoric out of sheer reflex, even when the prophesized end is painted in washed-out watercolors, like a dream whose outlines dissipate five seconds after waking. Andrew Watt's approach to retromania is less playful than the Smeezingtons' was, but also strangely less reverent, since if you truly revere the music of the past then you don't try to half-seriously Mandela effect yourself into its hit parade. [2]

Nortey Dowuona: Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga getting to coast by cornering the market on having both vocal talent and a modicum of charisma -- you know, the old-fashioned model -- would be frustrating, but at least Watt's patient hand is keeping this over there next to the white Broadway crowd. Anything but more Bruno funk. [7]

Mark Sinker: Obviously I want to claim I’m only onboard with Bruno as a project at last thanks to Gaga’s in-video cigarette — casually centred, disgustingly compelling — but I have to admit it’s something entirely more wholesome: the actual topic, the actual melody, the actual delivery! He got me in the end! (Also, I like thinking of him as a little monster. He is a little monster….)  [8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Would be a [6] with flipped Mars-Gaga ratio, but even then this would not quite get to the force of melodrama that would allow it to reach exit velocity and escape the great and depressing middle ground of tasteful 20th-century pop pastiche. These two have taken enough stabs at staid, boring pop songs for all occasions that they have become the legacy acts they once aspired toward and collaborated with. Good for them; bad for us. [4]

Kristen S. Hé: As much as I wish this Venn diagram had produced something more adventurous, it's arguably harder to write a song like this -- one that'll probably be on radio rotation for decades, and that I'll never object to hearing in any context. I've often found Bruno's schtick cloying and insincere, but here, I'd believe it even without Gaga's added star power. Bruno, please stay in this lane forever. (Gaga, please don't!) [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[gems-of-jungle-moon]

I'm pretty bad at drawing dragons, could I have a tip on drawing them.

I don't think there's such a thing as "being bad" at drawing dragons, to be honest.

Dragons can have such a large variety of designs, especially when artists, modern or not, imagine them as something other than your standard fire breathing reptile. Folklore can't even be consistent on what a dragon is. To me, they're not too different than designing a creature from scratch, whether or not you want to make it biologically plausible (aka spec bio). So I can't specifically give you dragon design tips because I use the same process for all creatures I make.

Instead, I'll offer some things I learned about creature design in general from studying animals and from other creature designers.

It all comes down to two questions:

What is the character of this design? And what do you like to design?

It sounds vague but hear me out.

Designing a character and designing a creature aren't that dissimilar. Because by creating a creature, you also focus on what makes its shapes unique from others as you would in a lineup of characters. Think of how you can identify different real life animals based on just the silhouette alone, and the features that give it that silhouette. For example you can tell a giraffe apart from a whale just by the silhouette, right?

What I like to do is make designs that give a good idea on how the creature lives, speculative evolution, and that involves a lot of research into animal biology. Evolution is the most unhinged creature designer, after all.

Ostriches and emus convergently evolved to be built for running rather than flying, and occupy a similar niche in their environments. But if you reduce them down to a single silhouette, you can easily still tell them apart.

Here's two of my own designs to demonstrate this same idea. The left I designed from bears, wildebeest, african wild dogs, and gorgonopsids. It's a pack-hunting species that lives in warmer grasslands. Its arms are also comparatively long for the rest of its body.

On the right is a polar relative, designed from a polar bear, a seal, arctic fox (summer coat), white tailed deer (tail shape), and basilosaurus (for the teeth). Compared to the first design, it's less lean and has more bulk for keeping warm. The ears are also diminished and the snout is way shorter. Despite that they look like they are related species from different climates.

Sometimes I tend to exaggerate a part of the design, such as the neck fluff on the polar guy and the length of the nose on the left one. Even small changes can make a big difference, and sometimes unexpected features can give you the exact design you were looking for. Don't fear ugliness or uncanniness in a design.

Because another fun exercise I like to do is take the body plan of a creature and stretch another creature to fit into that body plan. It may look ugly and cursed but sometimes that's what I want.

If researching anatomy and biology isn't your thing, you still have options. You can always apply chimera rules.

I've also seen this being described as "frankensteining", where you stitch different animal features together without much adjustment. This design strategy isn't invalid, but I don't prefer it.

I know I went with a standard "dragon" look for Pink (and the other diamonds' corrupted designs are getting an overhaul), but that's because that look happens to work for what I wanted.

An easy way to approach any of these methods is to draw small thumbnails in a sketchbook or on a digital canvas while zoomed out. With references handy of course. Being able to find distinct shapes when it's smaller makes them not rely on the littler details to be recognizeable. That way you can iron out the rest once you find something you like. And hands off ctrl+z/eraser (or use it sparingly). I know it's tempting, but try and resist.

I like to use a ballpoint pen for this when on paper, because it makes me commit to the lines so I'm not constantly erasing. I get no progress if all I'm doing is erasing. If I don't like it, I take what I like about the other thumbnails and move on to the next. This process whittles away the features I don't prefer. Notice the little note I left next to the dog in the upper right.

If something isn't working out, that's completely fine. Look at references, build your visual library. Don't get discouraged. Try things out just to see how it looks, even if you end up not liking it. You still learned something from that attempt.

Hang the code. Embrace chaos. Draw and design dragons how you want to.

And to finish this off:

Don't compare yourself to others and let that make you feel bad about your art. In fact, stop comparing altogether. It's okay to be inspired, but you are on your own artistic journey. Give yourself credit for your own progress and let that motivate you.

I see too many people do this, especially when they have every reason to feel good about the stuff they made.

[sonicjustbecause]

A though on skills (Sonic and the others)

One thing I don't like about Sonic is that all character seems to have about the same skills and downfalls, and this make them less unique. Maybe an approach in the right direction was made in Sonic adventure 2, but that was all.

Considering that I only like few characters from Sonic (In short a little more than all those appeared in Sonic Prime, who luckily were all characters I already like), I only will talk about them and not even all of them.

Sonic and Shadow

(the twins.... not literally, but they truly have twins vibe)

I think they should keep their iconic skills. High speed, spindash etc. With a slight difference though. Surely the spindash and all related rolling into a ball thing should be identical, no difference.

In particular circumstance and for short amount of time thy both can reach the speed of light.

About speed, I like to think Shadow is sligtly slower than Sonic without his shoes. Anyway those two are the fastest and the difference between them and all the rest should be noticeable.

Physical strenght and stamina favour Sonic. Shadow is tied to his inibitor rings. Without them he is way stronger than Sonic but his stamina decreases fast. Also Shadow can't hold the super transformation as long as Sonic.

Shadow, unlike Sonic, can swim, but I don't see him having a particular tecnique.

He also can perform chaos control better and easily and has full control of the chaos power. Sonic can do chaos control, but it looks diffcult when he does that.

Being left handed can also be one of his advantages. Most people are right handed so unless you aren't a trained warrior (see Knuckles), Shadow attacks may be more unpredictable.

Tails

I really like his flight abilities thanks to his two tails mutation (do you know that the two tails mutation is real?)

Although annoying in game, I appreciate the fact Tails can't fly forever. Foxed aren't supposed to fly after all. But he can fly long enough to make his level easier to finish. He also can swim but he lacks tecnique.

I like that in SA2 he uses mechanics. But I like more if he uses custom made weapons.

I don't like Tails being as fast as Sonic or using the spin dash. Foxes don't have a mantle and quills. They're like dogs who have a convergent evolution toward cats, so they tend to have typical cat skills rather than dogs skills. I like when he attacks his enemies with his two tails, that look strong.

Knuckles

I don't see Knuckles as particularly fast, but he is strong and a skilled warrior enough to nullyfy Shadow's left handed advantages and to force him to fight without inibitor rings. He can also free climb easily. I remember in Sonic OVA he just fly just like Goku or Superman, but I don't like that as I'm not fond on his gliding ability. He also can swim, and unlike Shadow and Tails he has a tecnique. Like overall a warrior but pretty much well trained in overall all sports. Of course he should not be able to roll up. But he has quills, he should be able to use them in some creative way.

Amy Rose

I like her skills actually. The Piko Piko Hammer is a nice touch. Plus she can summon it like magical girls can sum their sceptre, as seen in Sonic X. One thing she should do more is rolling up and the spin dash. She should not be able to do all the attack Sonic and Shadow can do, but she is still a hedgehog so she should be able to roll up.

She can swim, too. Not as good as Knuckles but better than Tails and Shadow.

The tarot card doesn't count. This is a think she likes to do for fun, but I don't see it as a part of her fighting skills.

Rouge

One thing is obvious, Rouge arms and legs look really thick, like Knuckles', and this does means she is muscular, so she is a good fighter. Plus she is a natural flyer, being a bat. This does means she is supposed to be able to fly as long as you want, unlike Tails and this gives her the ability to go everywhere, without limits. Plus she can swim as well as Knuckles.

Eggman

I think, since he is a human, our specie, it was somewhat easy to enhance the typical human skill, intelligence, but at the same time is harder to run with creativity in other skills. Suspension of belief is harder when we are familiar with something. All Eggman skills come from brain indeeed and his mechanics is very creative and dangerous. Eggman is able to swim (apparently only Sonic can't swim), but mostly he floats. He possess quite a good strenght and athletic abilities considering how out of shape he is.

[shadytrashcollector]

Some art I made :3

They're my ocs, me ranting about them under the cut

Okay so the human is Maisie, and the mermaid is Calypso. Calypso lives in the Mediterranean ocean, and the story takes place in Greece. I did this mostly because of the Greek origin of sirens, so their names are also Greek. In this universe, sirens are very shark-like in their physiology with multiple rows of teeth, only needing to eat about once a week, and being well adapted to live in deeper waters and eat large prey like tuna. They're not even mammals, but convergent evolution gave them human characteristics like hair and hands and the ability to sing. Calypso is built to live in deeper waters where her red scales would help her camouflage and her night vision would come in useful. However, she has a phobia of deep water because trauma. She went too deep to be able to see anything and got attacked, and when she escaped and swam back up, she realized that her pod was gone. This also gave her a lot of abandonment issues along with a very insecure attachment. She's incredibly lonely before she meets Maisie, and has a looming fear that Maisie will abandon her that only gets worse as Calypso falls deeper in love. Also, because Calypso is afraid of deep waters, she can't eat her natural diet of big fish, so she may or may not lure fishermen in with her voice and eat them.

Maisie has greek heritage, but is from the US. She's visiting family in Greece over the summer (btw they're both 16/17). She's a free spirit, loves adventure, music, and has always been drawn to the water.

She had been going swimming at a rocky tide pool close to her family's house for about a week before Calypso showed up. She was just going for a swim like normal before she saw something dart behind a rock (the same one that shes laying on in the drawing). She's not scared of sharks, so obviously she goes to investigate. She turns the corner and finds a pair of golden eyes staring up at her, terrified but entranced. Calypso was an ethereal beauty that Maisie had a hard time taking her eyes off of. She reached out, but Calypso yelped and shrunk back further. Calypso began singing a very anxious song (think flight of the bumblebee, fast paced, scaling notes). Maisie was only drawn in by her music, and began to sing along. The song shifted from fear to curiosity, and then to hope. No one had aver sung with Calypso before, and the beautiful harmony made her believe that she had found someone special. Maisie already thought that from the moment she laid her eyes on Calypso. They spent the afternoon and evening together, slowly becoming more comfortable around one another, and Maisie was able to communicate well enough to figure out Calypso's name, even with the language barrier (Calypso is not built to process language, so she won't be able to learn very much over their months together. However, Calypso's songs are emotional enough to express her ideas pretty clearly paired with body language). Over the next month or two, Maisie and Calypso bonded together, playing games, bringing gifts, teasing each other, and flirted. Calypso fell hard and fast, while Maisie fell in love slower, but with a deeper and more earnest emotional attachment. As Calypso stuck around in the same area for longer, it became more apparent that something was killing all of the fishermen in the area. Maisie isn't dumb, she's heard of sirens before, but Calypso is so loving to her, and Maisie has such rose tinted glasses that she can't possibly believe that it's Calypso who's been murdering all these people.

They have their first kiss at sunset, right before Maisie had to go back home. Calypso is reaching up to Maisie, representing Calypso's absolute obsession with her. While the feelings aren't one-sided, Calypso doesn't have a life outside of Maisie. She's her everything. When you have no one, that one someone is that much more important. Maisie starts to come out of the honeymoon phase, and is more willing to realize that Calypso really is a murderer. The deaths started when Calypso arrived, and have all happened in about a 2 mile radius from here. Maisie starts distancing herself from Calypso, which sends her into an anxious craze. She starts getting more and more pushy whenever Maisie tries to leave, and that pushiness only pushes Maisie away more.

She finally decides that she has to stay away from Calypso for good with the added pressure of her family being less willing to let her go to the sea alone. When Maisie doesn't show up, Calypso panicks. She stays at the shoreline the whole day, her abandonment fear coming to fruition. Calypso doesn't understand why Maisie left. She stays by the shore for days, wailing songs of mourning. A ship passes nearby at night. It's bigger than anything Calypso would normally prey on, with several people on board (usually she does small boats with 1 or 2 people). Overcome with anger, she goes and kills in cold blood for the first time. She gets badly injured, and a couple people escape. Calypso then lets herself sink to the bottom of the sea. The pressure actually helps her heal faster, but she hopes that it kills her.

After a full night down there, Calypso slowly makes her way back to the tide pool. The fishermen who escaped were able to give a news report, which Maisie saw. Maisie knew that Calypso was going to get hunted down and killed, but was super conflicted as to if she should intervene. She ended up escaping to the tide pool later that day for closure. She sang out to Calypso. Calypso was angry at first, but she quickly burst into tears and revealed herself to Maisie. They hugged for the first time in a week, and stayed in each other's arms for a good few minutes. Calypso didn't want to let go. Maisie pulled away, unable to look Calypso in the eye. She wasn't even sure why she was there, but quickly put on a cheery mask that everything was okay. Calypso knew better. She fussed over Maisie, millions of questions swarming her thoughts but not a way to ask them. Calypso was relieved regardless, and they started spending time together. It was almost normal. After only half an hour, Maisie wanted to leave. She was visibly upset, and Calypso sensed that she was scared. Oh jeez this is way too long actually I need to wrap this up. Maisie tried to leave, Calypso grabbed onto her arm and wouldn't let go. As Maisie struggled more, Calypso pulled right back. Maisie was scared, Calypso needed to show her that there was nothing to be afraid of. She dragged Maisie out to sea, ignoring her kicking and screaming. Calypso needed to show her that it would be okay. She kissed Maisie, but it was forced. Instead of the loving wonder of their first kiss, this seemed to make Maisie even more scared. But it's okay, they can face their fears together. Calypso drug Maisie down into the water. They would face their fears together. Maisie began to flail more and more, getting violent to get away. Calypso couldn't understand why. Maisie, in a last ditch effort, clawed at Calypso's throat. Calypso let go, but Maisie was far too deep and far too weak to make it to the surface. She died in a pool of Calypso's blood. Calypso tried to save her, of course, but it was too late. At the surface of the water, with Maisie in her arms, Calypso tried to sing. She couldn't. Her vocal cords had been ripped out.

That's where I would end the story, leaving Calypso's fate up to interpretation. She could go deep into the ocean and heal, and then end up staying there and eating her natural diet from then on. She would be unable to hunt humans ever again, so Maisie's death is a sacrifice in that regard. Calypso could let herself starve to death at the surface, but I think she would probably kill herself. Maybe bring Maisie back to land and let herself suffocate to death by her side. Idk.3

[redrawthecolorlessworld]

Meow

just like how it is with colorless, primeval, arta, and destonio, convergence is also not immune to getting projected on by me

in this case......he is a Cat Lover™. much like i am :3

———

This world is ugly.

Stupid.

Awful.

Shitty.

A pain to live in.

The people here are a bunch of stupid lowly idiots—they're all the exact same to me.

That's why...I've made it my goal to destroy this world once and for all.

Because there is nothing good about living in this wretched planet.

So my only choice is to—

"Meow."

...Huh?

The sound of...some creature, managed to snap me out of my internal breakdown. I started taking in the scenery around me; a dark alleyway. It's not nighttime right now, but this part of the city is pretty secluded from any other part of it, so no wonder it lacks any sort of light. That's when I realized that I was basically hugging myself as I stood with my back against the wall behind me.

I then quickly looked down, before seeing a white furred cat sitting infront of me. The cat looked up to me, before letting out another soft meow. My heart...it felt like melting from the sheer cuteness of it. I glanced around my surroundings once again, making sure no one else was in sight, before finally glancing back at the cat.

"...Meow."

"Mreow!"

Hearing the cat respond to me, I let myself smile. I crouched down so that I'm practically on the cat's level. "Meow." I said again (embarrassingly enough), and the cat responds with its own meow. Oh, Amazing Mighty...this is just too cute for me to handle.

I reached out my hand to pet the cat on the head, and it seems to be enjoying it a lot. "Mrow!!!" Hearing that, I laughed. "Meow." I replied, petting the cat some more. Seeing its tail move around a lot like that...

I feel like I might explode and die.

"Meow."

"Mreoowww."

"Meow?"

"Meeooww!!!!"

"Heh. Meow!"

"What the hell."

I immediately froze after hearing a third person (why am I saying "third person"??) speak. I quickly looked up, my eyes widening as I saw a white haired woman looked down at me with clear confusion in her eyes. "...Yo. What the hell are you doing here alone??" She asked, before glancing towards the cat I was petting earlier. "...With that cat?" She then added.

I recognize her—she's the infamous Destr0yer; the former Goddess of Destruction who got "fired" from her job for trying to make an attempt to destroy the world herself. How disappointing to know a failure like her is still alive and roaming around the streets of Modelista like this.

"...Get the fuck out of here and mind your own goddamn business."

"Okay, okay, fine! Geez—have some chill."

"Yeah. Run along now. Leave me and Clara alone."

"You- you named the cat???"

"Just get out!"

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

11 with shadowgast AND/OR 22 with vax!

"Take them with you." (happy ending au)

tw- home invasion

Vax doesn't hear their front door creak open. He doesn't hear the squeaky floorboard creak. But he does hear Piper scream at the top of her lungs. In an instant, Vax is awake and bolting out of bed. Keyleth is doing the same beside him.

"Mommy!" Lark screams.

The sound of their son and daughter screaming sends a shock of terror down his back as he scrambles for his knives, tucked in the bedside drawer. Keyleth has already begun sprinting out of their room and down the hallway.

Muscle memory he tried so hard to forget comes right back up again as he flies towards the door. It's closed, but he takes care of that in a split second, kicking it wide open. All three kids scream as he does.

But that's when Vax sees what's going on. There are three cloaked figures in the room. Each one is holding one of their kids in their arms, the kids fighting and squirming with everything they have.

"Let them go," Vax growls, feeling Keyleth's magic lighting up behind him. "You have no idea who you're messing with."

One of the cloaked figures laughs, "Oh we very much do. Which is how we know you're not going to do anything while your children are still in danger."

"What do you want?" Keyleth asks. He can hear the shaking in her voice, but he's pretty sure he's the only one. Vax tightens his hands on his knives, looking over the kids one by one.

They don't look injured, but all three of them are crying. Piper is struggling as much as she can, though Lark and Birdie have stopped by now. They're looking him and Keyleth for what to do. And gods he wishes he knew the answer.

Vax hears one of the figures respond to Keyleth's question, but he's too focused on the kids he can't pay attention to it. It's been so long since the world has been threatened and now his world, his three children, are being threatened.

His aim is rusty, he can't risk throwing a dagger without hitting one of the kids.

"Let them go and you can take me." Vax is yanked out of his planning by Keyleth's words. His wife is stepping in front of him, her hands in the air. "Please, just don't hurt them."

"Keyleth, what are you doing?" Vax hisses at her.

"Take them with you when they let them go," Keyleth murmurs to him. "Get them out. I'll handle it."

Vax nods subtly, he trusts his wife more than anything. He'll follow her plan. And so when the three figures drop the kids, sending them tumbling to the ground, Vax holds his hands out to them as the figures converge on Keyleth.

"Come on, let's go," Vax says quickly, picking Lark up into his arms as he takes Birdie and Piper by the wrists and all but drags the shell shocked and frightened kids from the room.

"We can't leave mom!" Piper shouts, trying to fight him off, kicking and trying to get him to let go.

Vax says nothing as he pulls them out into the hallway and out of the house. And just as they do, the entire wall where the kids' bedroom is is destroyed by flowery green vines. And rising from the middle of it all, her eyes blazing green, is Keyleth.

Among the twisted and gnarled vines and flowers, there are three men being squeezed by them.

Vax hugs the three kids close, making sure they can't see what's happening as the vines suck the life out of the three men who broke into their house, the vines swallowing them completely.

And when they're dead and hidden by the vines, Keyleth touches down outside of the house, sprinting towards Vax and the kids.

"Mommy!" Lark calls as he breaks away from Vax to sprint to her. As they embrace, Vax carries Piper and Birdie over, allowing Keyleth to embrace them all in a big hug, all five of them crying and trembling from the adrenaline and fright as Tempest Blades finally converge onto the house.

[poryphoria]

i totally didnt forget to type up the nevadean specbio post until just now WHAT!!! you're crazy

SO EHM. YES HALLO. today ill be chattering abt the various headcanons for nev anatomy ive amassed over the years, feel free to steal from them it would mean the world to me!!! ✨

lemme get this outta the way too- i dont refer to them as "grunts", because the term "grunt" to me is in reference to the cannonfodder clones of the AAHW and similar corporations. nevadean refers to the actual species. it's a helpful distinction imo :} (not to say grunts aren't nevadeans, either- that'd be rude! genetically, they belong to the exact same species, the only physical difference is how they were produced.)

nevadeans are a species built around hyperviolence. all throughout their evolutionary history theyve been bent on finding new and innovative ways to rip eachother to shreds- which is what resulted in their extremely simplistic appearance! the + sign or crosshair on their face is actually a sort of divvet which holds some of their sensory bits- smell along the vertical line, sight along the horizontal line! (fast fact about nev eyes, the eye holes in their skull are vestigial! their actual eyes are small and numerous, lining the length of the horizontal line until the center. since the eyes are still relatively in the right position, this is why they can still wear glasses and goggles over that area!)

the nerves converge in the center of the crosshair, creating an extremely sensitive spot, a natural weakpoint that can disarm someone very promptly if touched. their ears are internal, like a snakes- but the skin overtop them is much thinner, allowing them to still hear pretty well! their mouths typically lie flush to their face unless they're purposefully being moved into a shape- ie while they're talking (or sanfords little meanmug <3)

it is completely unclear why or how their hands are detached from their bodies- creatures in their world can and do have arms, but this is typically a trait reserved for things considered "monstrous" or "beastly", similarly to having large, visible eyes! there is still a bit of a force connecting between their shoulder and hand- if you stick your hand between the empty space, there's a sort of ambient static feeling, like pins and needles. the base of the wrist and socket of the shoulder are both uncomfortable, sensitive areas to touch- very electricity based sensations! the scrapeface incident was a very extreme example of what might happen if a nev is forcibly separated from their hands- in most cases, the hand simply snaps back to the body after a strong shock causes them to let go of whatever it was holding on to.

nevadeans are not exactly mammals. they do not produce milk, nor give live birth- they reproduce asexually like planarians, by taking a very specific graft of a large portion of their skin and letting it grow into a whole new baby- this means that there is no real concept of a "nuclear family" in their society, it's purely based on whatever survival tactics work best. (no gender, either, since anyone can bear a child!)

most people prefer to be given instruction by a medical professional if they want to have a child, so they can be shown precisely where and how deep to cut without injuring themselves or screwing up the baby- it's not necessary, perse, as the reproductive tissue does have a distinctly different texture from the regular skin and can be felt out- however, it's definitely higher risk. to each their own!

(and no, surprisingly, this does not mean babies are just getting up and walking out of corpse-stricken battlefields-- the exact graft one needs to take to produce a child is very specific for this reason alone, and once the cells of the body are medically dead, it can no longer produce children anyways!)

as a consequence of their widespreadness, violent nature and resulting tenacity, nevadeans, when presented with the necessary conditions, can undergo a process known as 'spontaneous evolution' or 'spontaneous adaptation', which is exactly as the name implies! when their simplistic body plan is pushed to it's limits for an extended period of time- weeks, months, years- they may begin to evolve specialized traits to help combat this. the most common one is a tail for balance- observed in construction workers, performance artists, MAGs, zeds, any scenario you can think of that might suddenly and consistently force you to balance your body in a new way! but there's plenty of other examples- webbed paws, brush tongues, changes in vocal range, bioluminescence, a coating of fur- the sky is truly the limit!! if you can reasonably explain what caused them to evolve that trait, there's probably a good reason why they have it!

and some do, in fact, try to take advantage of their bodies by putting themselves on routines to trigger a certain type of evolution, opening up a whole new submarket of body modification culture!!

nevadeans are very social creatures by default. they are most efficient in large groups, working towards a shared ideal or common cause- this makes it very easy for original S-3LFs to rule over them, as they like the sense of unity that pledging their collective loyalty to a single person brings! they have an inherent desire to be physical with their fellow comrades- largely expressed through playfighting (or 'sparring', perhaps more professionally) and social grooming. they make all manner of strange vocalizations at eachother- each individual has their own, unique range of sounds!

everyone can purr, though.

no matter how it sounds.

all of them can and will purr in some capacity.

huhuhu....im sure i forgot a few things but this will do nicely for now :} im morimay and i hope you enjoyed the broadcast! signing off ✨

[aristaspark]

Winx Club Rewatch: Season 1 episode 6: Mission at Clowd Tower

New Chapter out on my Winx Fanfiction! bit.ly/3EL0tQy

I love the fact that Bloom is doing research, makes her really seem like a student

"That means that ring belongs to you!" Well, that would explain why she had it. Did Bloom think she stole it? 😭

The way Musa answered seriously when Bloom asked who are the Trix 😂 Like her having random amnesia is totally normal

Love the history behind Stella's ring

The fact that they are in college but have no idea what the dragon flame is. Their educational system failed them, the only one who should have the right to be clueless on this topic is Bloom.

Love how they have a serious conversation but still manage make jokes, they're really a group of teenager friends

Tecna being all philosophical and Bloom not understanding sh*t 😂

Not them shaming Stella for not knowing basic history when they don't know about it themselves

Faragonda really was like: that girl is interested in history, that's suspicious and has never happened in the history of time, she must be the lost princess of Domino 😂

They're soooo careless, who the hell goes to a school full of witches in the middle of the night

Omg I had completely forgotten the Trix weird moaning sessions

Why did the Trix go out in the woods though??

Knut sounds like me when my parents asked me to clean

The way the Winx don't give a damn about respecting the Trix privacy

Some weird objects in their, that's all I'm gonna say

I beg you Stella, wash that ring before putting it on your finger

"Gasp""What a strange place!"... Yeah, that's a library, with BOOKS, I'm really starting to think they never even went to school

Yeah, that's totally not suspicious how there's a book with your name written on it with a ray of light shining on it

Griffin had way too much free time on her hands

Did Tecna just say power convergence? I thought it only appeared in season 2

Why don't they fly?

The spiders look goofy with their teeth

Oh now they fly

Disgusting

The glim on the shield is killing me

If I had powers and a there was a bug I would have done the same as Stella and burn the whole building down 😂

Too late for regrets Bloom

Always loved that scene of Daphne saving Bloom

Bloom has no idea what she just did 😂

Flora almost turned into bacon

Faragonda is way too extreme with her punishment

Pretty sure Bloom still had her powers, she just didn't know

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dargon Reborn! Chapter 4: Shadows Sleeping

I'm on the very extreme end of the Kinsey scale and I'd still be down with a threesome with these two, which says a lot about my survival instinct. But this post isn't about the sexiest way to die, it's about The Wheel of Time, all fifteen books plus a variety of side content and dammit I try to spoil it all as much as possible. If that's going to be a problem, don't keep reading.

This chapter has a wolf icon because Perrin's diving straight into the wolf dream.

So you will give it up, then. It is the best thing for you. Come. Sit, and we will talk.”

Ishamael has noticed that the boys never do what he says, so he figures it's time to tell them to do the things that would be best for them so that they won't do them.

No, just kidding, that would be competent of him and he's still in crazy pants mode until he respawns. He's actually trying to cause Perrin to take up the Way of the Leaf in the hopes that in about fifteen minutes, when the Fades arrive, our boy will be too stupid to immediately reevaluate his philosophy and let the Shadow kill him.

Perrin had not realized the axe was there, had not felt the weight of it pulling at his belt. He ran a hand over the half-moon blade and the thick spike that balanced it. The steel felt—solid. More solid than anything else there. Maybe even more solid than he was himself.

All of this is a dire warning sign since we're in T'A'R, but since Perrin doesn't know that yet, we can hardly blame him for not appreciating that symbolism.

“At least have a drink with me. To years past and years to come. Here, you will see things more clearly after.” The cup the man pushed across the table had not been there a moment before. It shone bright silver, and dark, blood-red wine filled it to the brim.

While most of the Fair Folk stuff in WoT is of course covered by the Finn, I think that the stuff about eating and drinking may well be ancient memories of what dreamers can do in T'A'R.

A gilded helmet, worked like a lion’s head, sat on his head as if it belonged there. Gold leaf covered his ornately hammered breastplate, and gold-work embellished the plate and mail on his arms and legs. Only the axe at his side was plain. A voice—his own—whispered in his mind that he would take it over any other weapon, had carried it a thousand times, in a hundred battles. No! He wanted to take it off, throw it away. I can’t!

Perrin's mistake is in thinking his situation is such that it's only a dream. I'm pretty sure it's Lanfear he's hearing, not himself, and that Lanfear has no more knowledge of Perrin's other lives than anyone else.

“Yes,” he whispered. Inside him, startlement fought with acceptance. He had no use for glory. But when she said it, he wanted nothing else.

Let the record show: When Perrin laments that Rand is better at girls than he is, the fact that Rand doesn't immediately turn into a glory hound at Lanfear's demand proves Perrin right. The jury is still out on where Mat fits into the rankings.

“You don’t know the half of what you are. Of what you can be. Come, share a cup with me, to destiny and glory.” There was a shining silver cup in her hand, filled with blood-red wine. “Drink.”

Pretty rare to see Ishamael and Lanfear on the same page. I'm not sure if she's only accidentally mimicking him or if they're working together for the same general purpose of pulling Perrin away from Rand (Mat, being further away and tainted besides, needs no special attention). Obviously even if they're working together Lanfear wants to screw over Ishamael as soon as possible, it's her nature.

Everywhere he looked, left and right, up or down, were more bridges, more spires, and railless ramps. There seemed no end to them, no pattern. Worse, some of those ramps climbed to spire tops that had to be directly above the ones they had left.

Some suggest that this is either the Ways in T'A'R or a memory thereof, but I think it's just convergent evolution and that Lanfear's gone to a dream shard the Forsaken made, unaware that Perrin's got the skills to follow her through.

On a bridge slightly below him, and much closer than the ramp where the woman had been, a man suddenly appeared, tall and dark and slender, the silver in his black hair giving him a distinguished look, his dark green coat thickly embroidered with golden leaves.

This is Rahvin, for the record.

Another man started across the bridge from the other side, his appearance as sudden as the first man’s. Black stripes ran down the puffy sleeves of his red coat, and pale lace hung thick at his collar and cuffs.

And Be'lal.

The first two men stood side by side, now, made uncomfortable allies by the presence of the newcomer. He shouted at them and shook his fist, while they shifted uneasily, refusing to meet his glares. If the two hated each other, they feared him more.

Considering Rahvin's raw strength and Be'lal's skills at subterfuge, their abject terror of Ishamael is pretty interesting. Are they only afraid of the modern him, stark raving mad from centuries of isolation, or was this how they would have responded to him in the Age of Legends as well?

A prickling in the hair on the back of his neck made him look up. On a ramp above him and to the right, a shaggy gray wolf stood looking at him.

Naturally this freaks Perrin the fuck out even though it's likely that the only reason he didn't die in the fireball Ishamael made was that the wolves "just a weave"-d it.

(Also: Hi Hopper! Who's a good boy?)

A sword, hanging hilt down in the air, apparently without support, seemingly where anyone could reach out and take it. It revolved slowly, as if some breath of air caught it. Yet it was not really a sword.

I beg you to remember that Callandor, no matter how many times Rand misuses it along the way, is not a weapon. It's not really a sword. It's a trap.

Callandor. Who wields me wields destiny. Take me, and begin the final journey.

Is Callandor just calling to anyone who can find it in T'A'R? Is it programmed to respond to ta'veren who find it there enough times because no one foresaw Mat and Perrin's existence? Of course not. Perrin is now pushing his way into a dream meant for Rand, same way he pushed his way into that private conversation. No wonder our other boy is so impatient, putting up with months of manipulation by the shadow.

The thought was clear in his head, but the thought was not his own. The Twisted Ones come, brother.

And of course, the Shadow descends to cause chaos while it's trying to keep Rand busy, to maximize his despair, and immediately after trying to get Perrin to become a pacifist, to minimize his response against them.

Unfortunately (or rather, fortunately), they have no idea how to talk to Third Agers so none of their schemes fully work out.

Next time: The Twisted Ones!

[hellonoblesky]

TELL ME ABOUT THE HIROTSU HEADCANONS !!!!

RUBBBING MY HANDS TOGETHER EEVILLY OK OK OK LETS GO LETS GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Under a cut bc I got so invested talking abt this w Cio (bungoustraypups) that I made. several characters to accompany his backstory)

OH ALSO VIOLENCE WARNING LOL

Ok so two main things you need to know for this

1: Hirotsu trans ftm but I'm just gonn call him He this whole time. BUT NOTE: He doesn't come out until like right towards the end, so he's still presenting as a girl for most of this 2: in 70s Japan, girls weren't allowed to join gangs. In response to this, they made their own, called sukeban gangs

So basically to set the scene. Pre-bsd Yokohama. The Port Mafia has yet to rise to infamy. Sukeban gangs are forming in the streets. One of them features our Hirotsu as one of their members. A scrappy kid, not yet having fully discovered himself, and with so much pent up anger at the world that he doesn't quite know what to do with.

The gang he's in is small. There's members who come in and out of it, but there's four main members. They've got abilities. That's why they're the four main ones. And that's why they stick together.

(Yes they're my OCs sorry guys I got too silly <- isn't sorry at all)

So the lineup is as follows:

Inoue Youko: Her ability, Through Walls and War, allows her to see through walls when she closes her left eye. She's the team lookout, and can pull her weight in a fight pretty damn well

Saikita Hiroko: the group's mechanic and getaway artist. Her ability, Whispers in Metal, allows her to "understand" and "speak to" machines

Hino Koyuki: not a fighter or a runner, Koyuki is a thief and a schemer. Her ability, Down to the Bone, is a constantly active ability that causes her to only see living things as their internal workings. She can only see faces through photos and videos

And Hirotsu, of course

So the thing is. Their gang, because of their combined Abilities, gives them such a wild advantage over the other sukeban in the area, that the other gangs get sick of them, and start to Plot.

So while Hirotsu and the gang are busy trying to figure out what the hell they're supposed to make their living situation (they're fresh out of high school) (3/4 of them got kicked out of home due to their delinquency) (1/4 of them never really had a home to begin with)(not telling you which one tho)(It's Koyuki), almost every other sukeban gang converges on them.

It is not an easy fight. In fact, it's a fight so rough that their rivals manage to tear out Youko's right eye, the one she needs to look through in order to use her ability, essentially taking away her access to her ability as a whole. It's a fight so rough that it's the reason Hirotsu wears a monocle. Because his eye got fucked up in the brawl. And it's a fight so rough that it leaves the four of them clinging to an actively breaking down boat that Hiroko is desperately trying to keep running for dear life as they run.

It's about here Hirotsu comes out as trans and whatever, everyone else is chill with it, it's whatevs. They don't flaunt being Sukeban at this time anyway because they're trying to slip under the radar as they get back into Yokohama

This is when Hirostu stumbles into the Port Mafia. It wasn't as impressive as it is now at the time, but it was good enough that they could offer him a place to stay, and enough of a wage to send to his friends to keep them afloat while they worked things out. He doesn't want to get them involved in more gang wars. He's worried about Youko and how she's dealing with the loss of her ability. He's worried about Koyuki, who's frailer than the rest of them and shudders away from most people. And he's worried about Hiroko, who's snagging odd mechanics jobs just on the off chance she can grab lunch.

So he takes up the PM's offer. He does not let the other three join. They get into a fight about this. They split ways for a long time, but Hirotsu still sends money.

His loyalty to the PM becomes fierce. He forms the Black Lizard.

[classifiedscripts]

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[dude1818]

Under Fortunate Stars

I recently read Under Fortunate Stars by Ren Hutchings. It was a fun space opera story about two ships from different times that got trapped in a spacetime rift and had to work together to escape, and not break the historical record in doing so. I have some gripes, but overall still something I'd recommend.

The plot follows two ships: the Jonah and the Gallion. The story jumps around a lot in time, so I'm going to use the Gallion's reference frame as "the present." 150ish years prior, the Jonah was a smuggling ship during the generations-long war between humanity and the alien race called the Felen (which the humans were pretty close to losing). In the present, the crew of the Jonah is revered as ending the war and negotiating peace with the Felen. Now they're in the same room, and neither ship's crew can understand how to make those dots connect.

Most of the story takes place in the spacetime rift, as the ships' systems are failing and they need to find a way to escape. A lot of the chapters are flashbacks though. Unlike Witch King or Children of Time, it's not two parallel stories that converge. Instead, there's the main story in the present, and a large smattering of somewhat disjointed vignettes in the characters' pasts. For example, there's a chapter about the Jonah captain's childhood, then several about his and the pilot's previous adventures, but also several chapters about one of the Gallion's crewmember's former job on a top secret space station that slowly drip feeds information about the current relationship with the Felen. (This eventually becomes relevant when that space station also shows up in the spacetime rift, having "vanished" six years ago.) This isn't necessarily a bad structure, but I find it tiring and was already a little burnt out from having recently read several other books like that.

My main gripe with the story was the sheer level of coincidence required for things to happen. It's already a circular time loop story (because obviously the interaction between the two ships is what causes the Jonah to be the ones who end the war), and I know that breaks credulity for some people automatically. I don't mind that, but then the number of other little deus ex machinas that line up gets to be too much. For example, the weapons the Jonah was smuggling happen to be made of the exactly the right components for the device to free them from the rift, or the crate the character from the space station knocked over when she left before it vanished happened to prop open a fire door they needed to go through now, or (bigger spoilers) a character got a concussion and regained their psychic powers that we had never even know they had in the first place prior to this point. All of this being fated was kind of the point, but it played its hand a little too heavily for my liking.

[the-firebird69]

Watch "Russ Ballard - Voices" on YouTube

We have a lot of children and some of them are very big and you people are not prepared for what's going to happen next. But this is Russ Ballard and it's his song He's also the lead singer and journey because before this and last chance occurs before this and they had a split and they had to hit the keys separately the key to Trump because it's kind of demanding it and he wouldn't take the key to him because he couldn't get it and he didn't say that and it looks like Trump just got back from the Congo and he did and the key comes there and they take off it go to Korea and it looks like clones with him but it's not it's his idiots. They go get the submarine, and he ranges to drop it there and he thinks he's going to do the freeze out himself cuz he's in charge my hand and that he will activate the key system and cause chaos and distraction all over the world for him to take over the White House again. And other such things that's why the freeze out and see who you think is him but it's his son in New York City and he wants to take it over while he's overseas. This is happening very shortly and we need this we need the armies it was signify all the others to activate the priests and there's a name for them that are higher levels demigods and we use them to activate a few tears that go and activate kju and utilize them including trespasser and knifehead and they're pretty much the fiercest we have they are very aggressive armored and very nasty and never stop until they retain their goal the kraken is very fierce but these things are compact extremely dense and very heavy and armored and they plow through your stuff like it's nothing and that's what you're up for Tommy f doesn't think anything of it.

Hera Zues

We're going to oversee this process and this is basically the path and they're on it now and it's rolling

Olympus

Wow and never thought I'd see the day this is finally happening this is a huge step and Canada too and it's going to go we think with the freeze out this is amazing this stuff is moving along very fast we're getting our army and we need it now for the Midwest and he's pointing out that it's going to be a major major strike on there and they may not be talking about it it might be spontaneous I'm going to get people together now and start raising our army and we need it for the K2 that they're going to raise there's tons of them

Thor Freya

That's the best talk we've had in ages and we have to get going on at this tons of things converging right now we need our people

Nuada Arrianna

We're going to put this out there and we do need other things that happen but we really need to raise our army right now and he's right there could be a huge strike on the Midwest and we would not be prepared

Olympus

[txemrn]

Book: The Nanny Affair

Pairing: m!Sam Dalton x MC (Brynn Schuyler)

Summary: While preparing for the third grade Christmas jubilee, Brynn learns that her future stepsons have been bullying another student; but with a little tinsel and Brynn's big heart, she creates some Christmas magic of her own

Music Inspo: "My Grown-Up Christmas List" - Pentatonix ft. Kelly Clarkson

Warning: pretty fluffy; discussion of childhood bullying

A/N: This is my submission for the @choices12daysoffictmas, hosted by @leelee10898 and @emichelle (y'all are AMAZING! Thank you soooooo much for hosting this event for us!). I was given Day 6 (no, no. Your calendar is correct. I am posting this on the 7th!), and I was given the word ✨tinsel✨ HUGE Thanks to my pre-reader, hand-holder, cheerleader, and sergeant @kat-tia801 for helping me get this piece done!

A/N: Some characters belong to our friends at Pixelberry!

-----

No more lives torn apart

And wars would never start

And time would heal all hearts

Everyone would have a friend

And right would always win

And love would never end…

… this is my grown-up Christmas list.

-----

The crisp chill from the first snowfall of the holiday season tickles every nose, both young and old, into a perfect hue of pink. The sidewalks are lit up with festive lights, greenery and vibrant colors of deep red and brilliant gold. There's even a sweet hint of pine hanging in the air-- that, and the pungent exhaust fumes from the typical New York City traffic.

Preparing for the upcoming third grade Christmas jubilee at Sterling Academy, Brynn Schuyler plans an early Saturday morning outing with her favorite eight-year-old twins, Mickey and Mason, at a local craft store.

"Alright, team," she pulls out her shopping list, and begins reading to herself out loud. "Hot gluesticks; sixteen-ounces of red glitter; a ream of holiday paper; LED replacement heads. Hrmmm, let's see here." She contorts her lips while clicking her tongue. She studies her items, looking back and forth between the paper and her little helpers. "Oooo! I got it! Let's start with something fun."

With the boys curiously staring at each other, they follow their future stepmother up the main walkway. Brynn guides them with her shopping cart to a converged aisle of wall-to-wall tree ornaments, the shelves completely adorned top to bottom with glittering bulbs and glass characters on metal hooks.

"Whoa!" Exclaimed Mason, adjusting his glasses. "Look at all the colors--"

"Oh my gosh, Mase!" Mickey runs to a group of ornaments. "Dominion Royale!" Mason and Brynn catch up to Mickey, admiring the various designs. "Can we get one, Brynn? Please?"

"They're even on sale!" Points out Mason.

"Absolutely, you two." Brynn smiles at their enthusiasm. "You need to pick out one that represents you for your class's holiday tree, and then pick out one for the game room tree. Sound good?"

Mickey turns around with his arms filled with characters from his favorite role playing game.

"Oh, um, Mick, I love the enthusiasm, bud, but--" Brynn stifles her giggles, "--leave some for other customers." Brynn bends down, and starts hanging up the ornaments.

"Hey, Mase, look!" Mickey calls to his brother conspiratorially. "Isn't that Patches?" Mason chuckles into his cupped hands, nodding his head.

Brynn stands up, looking in the same direction as the boys. "Patches? Who's Patches?"

"He's this kid at school--" Mason starts to explain.

"--and his name is Patches?" Brynn interrupts, raises an eyebrow.

The twins nervously glance at each other as Mason continues. "His name is Peter, but we call him Patches."

"Why Patches?" Brynn's tone becomes more serious, more concerned with her future stepsons. The boys glance at each other again, a guilty look flooding their faces.

"He's not like the rest of us," informs Mason. "His uniform isn't from where we shop and oftentimes has holes that get patched up with another piece of clothing. Sometimes they are wrinkled--"

"And-and Mr. Hodges says, 'Boy, did you sleep in those?'" The boys snicker, but quickly stop when they notice the furrowing of Brynn's eyebrows.

"Are you kidding me right now, boys?" Brynn sighs. “You make fun of him?” Words fail her as she returns to her shopping list. The original joy on her face has run cold, and all that's left is a look the twins have never seen before this moment.

"Mom, I--" Mason starts, his voice mournful.

"Get your ornaments," interjects Brynn stoically. "We need to go."

At that moment, a woman with a young, red-headed toddler in her buggy turns down the ornament aisle. Brynn takes in the young woman’s exhausted appearance, noting the dark circles under her eyes and empty expression on her face.

"Peter. C'mon. Stop dawdling."

His mother. At her call, a lanky, fairly awkward red-headed boy with glasses sulks around the corner. Even with his eyes trained to the ground, it's clear he's several inches taller than the twins, maybe the tallest kid in the class.

Brynn's heart fills with so many emotions, especially seeing a child so downtrodden; however, she believes this is a perfect opportunity to show kindness--not just because it's the right thing to do, but Mickey and Mason need an example.

"Excuse me?" Brynn steps forward with a coy smile. "I don't believe we've met yet, but my sons were telling me that they go to school with Peter at Sterling."

The woman's face brightens with the gesture as she puts her arm around her own son. "Oh! You have to excuse me," she nervously chuckles, "I just got off shift,” she combs a hair strand behind her ear before fidgeting with her shirt. “We just needed to run some errands."

"Oh, I understand," smiles Brynn, pointing to her basket. "My name is Brynn Schuyler."

"Nicole. Nicole Reynolds," she eagerly shakes Brynn's hand. "I'm sorry," she looks down at Peter, "I'm not familiar with your sons. Schuyler?"

"Oh! Well,” Brynn titters, “technically they’re not my sons. I’m going to be their stepmother in a few months." Brynn turns towards the boys, noticing they are hiding behind the buggy. "That's Mickey and Mason Dalton."

"Dalton?" The woman's face falls at the mention of the name as she squeezes her arm tightly around her son. "Well, it was nice to meet you--"

"It was very nice to meet you, Nicole." Brynn stops her from taking off. "And maybe some time, Peter and the boys can have a playdate or something--"

"Mommy?" The girl in the basket innocently interrupts the conversation. "Can I have this?" The little girl lifts up a small bouquet of Dum-Dums candy.

"No," Nicole whispers, "you know we can't afford that. But maybe Santa--"

"I'm so sorry to interrupt," coyly says Brynn, "but I have a coupon." She digs into the pocket of her jeans, pulling up the folded up discount code, offering it to the young mother. "No one should ever pay full price in here--"

Nicole glared at the coupon before turning her withering stare at Brynn. "We don't need charity. Especially not from you or the Daltons." She backs up her cart to turn a different direction. "Excuse us."

Dumbfounded by how quickly the Reynolds family retreated from her presence, Brynn knows instantly there is more to the story, and there are two little boys that hold the truth. And it wasn't pretty.

The trip home is awkwardly informative as the boys reveal reluctantly that they, as well as their classmates, have been relentlessly teasing Peter Reynolds, a scholarship student at Sterling Academy whose mom works two jobs to make ends meet. Most of his clothes were from thrift stores or donated. He eats alone; he plays alone. But, otherwise, he’s a great student.

Brynn was at a loss for words. Her sons, the boys that she knows and loves so dearly, were always so kind and friendly and loving; it was a quality she would brag about with her friends and family. Now, Brynn isn’t foolish enough to think that Mickey and Mason were invincible from doing wrong. Afterall, she was their nanny; she is well-aware of their clever antics.

But, bullying?

What was she supposed to do now? Punish them? Reward them for coming clean about their poor actions? Force them to be friends with Peter? Would that subject them to being bullied, too?

After dinner, Brynn decided to go straight to bed as the guys played video games together. A few hours later, Sam joined her.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight.” Sam pulls back the covers, slipping between the warm sheets of their bed. He rolls over, slipping his arm around Brynn’s waist, pulling her back into his chest. “You barely said two words at dinner,” he whispers in her ear, his breath tickling goosebumps to life across her soft neck. As she laces her hand with his, he intimately presses his lips to her bare shoulder. “Wait,” he mumbles against her skin, “did I do something wrong?”

Brynn snickers, rolling over to face her fiancée. “What do you think?” She sweetly pecks once--twice against Sam’s lips before he’s able to grip ahold of her bottom lip.

“Tease,” he playfully growls, intertwining his legs with hers. But even as Sam peers into her eyes, he sees that the light in her natural sparkle is dim. “Okay, c’mon,” he tucks a hair behind her ear, “talk to me, baby.”

Brynn sits up, leaning up against the tufted headboard, pulling the blankets over her chest. Letting out a soft sigh, she offers a coy smile. “Do you know who Peter Reynolds is?”

Sam freezes with concern, raising an eyebrow at Brynn. “No,” he singsongs as he sits up to face his bride-to-be. “Do I need to?”

Rolling her eyes, Brynn clicks her tongue, dismissing his blooming jealousy with the wave of her hand. “He’s a student in the boys’ grade--actually in Mickey’s class.”

Sam traces circles seductively down her arm. “Is he giving them trouble?”

"Uh," she scowls at Sam's advances. "Hardly." Brynn scoffs, pulling her arm away. “Sam, I learned today that our boys, along with some of the other boys, have been teasing and making fun of him.”

Sam smirks, shrugging his shoulders. “Brynn,” he pulls a knee out from underneath him, hugging it loosely, “that’s just what boys do. I’m sure they’re all just playing--”

“--Sam, this--” she sighs, casually crossing her arms, “--this is different. I met him and his mom this morning. She was very friendly until I mentioned the name Dalton. Then she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”

“So, your feelings are hurt because she wouldn’t be your friend?”

“Really?” Brynn furrows her eyebrows, shaking her head as she turns her attention to their bedroom window.

“Baby,” he reaches for her hand, warming it in his grasp. “Seriously, guys just do that. I’m sure Peter has teased the boys before--”

Brynn shakes her head. “That’s not what Mickey and Mason told me, Sam.” She pulls her hands back to herself, rubbing the top of her tickled nose with her finger. “He’s one of the students that received a scholarship to attend.” Brynn continues to explain Peter’s home situation, and how money seems to be a real challenge for them. “And on top of everything else, Mickey gave him the nickname Patches because of his worn clothes.”

Sam stifles a chuckle, looking away from his fiancé.

“Sam!” Brynn grabs her pillow, threatening to hit him with it.

“Okay, okay,” he shields himself for mercy, “I’m sorry.”

“Our sons are bullies--”

“Now wait a minute,” Sam scoots in closer, becoming more direct in Brynn’s face. “I wouldn’t go that far and call them that.”

“For the rest of Peter’s life, he will refer to Mickey and Mason as his childhood bullies.”

“Point taken,” Sam grimaces.

“Now, I know it’s not realistic that they are going to be friends with everyone,” Brynn pauses, giving Sam a tender look, her eyes welling with tears. “But our sons,” she presses her hand to her chest, “they know better. They know to be kind--they are kind! I just--”

There’s a sudden, gentle wrapping on the door.

"Dad? Mom?"

Brynn and Sam simultaneously shrug their shoulders at one another. Brynn slips out of bed, grabbing her robe before opening the door.

“Can we come in for a minute?”

Brynn sniffles back her tears, motioning for the twins to come inside the room.

“Hey, buddies--” Sam pats the bed, “--come get in bed. Let’s chat.”

As the whole family settles into bed together, curled up with warm throws, the boys start the discussion with apologies, naturally calming Brynn’s nerves. Together, they discuss Mickey and Mason’s behavior, and the importance of showing kindness to everyone regardless of their background and lifestyle. They also discuss how privileged the boys are to be born into such a notable name without a single need or want in the world, and because of that, it's important they use their privilege for goodness and love.

While they chatted, Brynn found the boys--her sweet, loving boys--clinging tightly to her arms as they snuggled into her side. These are the boys she knows, the boys she adores so much, the boys she would give her life for.

The twins fell asleep in Sam and Brynn’s bed that night, cuddled closely in their arms. As Brynn savors the smell of their chestnut curls, she realizes something: Sam is right; ‘boys will be boys’. But, that doesn’t mean it’s right. These precious kids aren’t perfect, but they won’t be boys forever.

The following Friday is the big day of the third grade holiday jubilee. Brynn was able to take off from the company to help the other moms decorate the rooms and set up the tables with scrumptious, Christmas-inspired treats. Right before recess, each student took the time to open and share with their peers the ornaments they had brought for their class tree. Brynn snuck into Mrs. McAllister’s class to watch Mason talk about his science beaker ornament, flipping a tiny switch in the back to show it glow lime green. After blowing him a kiss, she tip-toed over to Mr. Hodges’s class to watch Mason open his Mighty Minotaur ornament, his favorite character from his favorite video game.

Brynn stands up to excuse herself to start assisting the other moms with moving chairs and tables while the children are playing. But, the next name on the docket stopped Brynn in her tracks.

“Peter. Peter Reynolds. It’s your turn, buddy.”

Brynn tucks into a corner and watches as the young boy timidly steps in front of his classmates. He digs into his pockets, pulling out a sandwich bag filled with silvery strands of straw.

“Is that tinsel, Peter?” asks Mr. Hodges as a few students start to whisper, one begins to snicker.

Peter clears his throat. "Yes, sir."

"Did you not have another ornament to share with the class?" The teacher continues, but the only response Peter can give is a shrug.

Brynn watches the parents around whisper snide remarks.

"Ugh, so tacky."

"And cheap. I didn't know they still sold that stuff--"

"I think it's, like, a dollar. For a pound of it!"

"Poor kid. He shouldn't have shared anything at all."

"That kid doesn't belong here anyway."

Brynn had heard enough. She could feel her heart beginning to race as her hands formed fists at her sides. Tears well up in her eyes as a coat of red crawls across her skin. How could these children be so cruel?

Here’s the answer-- they're learning it from their parents.

Brynn ran to the bathroom to calm herself down. She splashes her face with water before taking big, deep breaths. Dabbing her cheeks and neck off, she stares at herself in the mirror, noting the glistening of her own eyes.

And suddenly, she forms a plan.

Returning to the classroom, she notices the kids are lined up and heading outside for a snowy recess. Brynn taps Peter on the shoulder, motioning for him to stay back with her.

With Mr. Hodges being the only other person in the room, Peter walks back in with Brynn, taking his seat. She squats down next to him.

"Do you want to put your tinsel on the tree?" Staring at the desk, Peter slowly shakes his head no. Brynn continues. "What if I helped you?"

For the first time, Brynn finally saw the gold flakes in Peter's hazel eyes as he looks up at her innocently. "My mom said not to let people feel sorry for me."

A smirk grows on her face. "You think I feel sorry for you?" She chuckles. "I feel sorry for this sad-looking tree." She points to the class holiday tree, Peter grinning. "This thing needs more holiday cheer and I really think your tinsel will do the trick." Brynn ducks her head down, trying to match her stare with his.

Quickly stealing his attention, Brynn shows him tricks on how to hang the tinsel. "I think three strands is the perfect amount for each branch." She grabs the tip of the arm of the fake pine tree, and shows where to place the silver straw. Peter watches intently, draping the tinsel as instructed.

He timidly looks back at Brynn. “Th-thanks. Miss Schuyler.”

Brynn continues to decorate, not making eye-contact with him. “For what? We’re just making this Christmas tree look better. Plus, tinsel is not a one-person job.” She offers a cordial smile. “Oooo, that looks perfect, Peter,” she nods in approval. “You’d never guess this was the same tree.”

Branch by branch, the tree becomes covered in a stunning, silver sparkle. As the string lights reflect off the tinsel, fractals of beaming colors cascade across the room. Peter's tinsel is the absolute perfect addition.

Once finished, Brynn crawls onto the floor, laying on her back under the Christmas tree. She quickly calls out to her partner-in-crime. “Peter! Come over here!” She pats her hand on the rug next to here. “Best seat in the classroom!”

Mr. Hodges lets out a hearty, encouraging chuckle as he watches Brynn. He puts a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder. “Go on. Take a look, son.” The teacher turns off the overhead lights to the classroom, allowing only the holiday tree to illuminate.

As soon as Peter relaxes under the tree, his eyes widen with excitement at the vision, a smile growing across his face. “This is so cool.”

As the children come back in from recess, they are stunned at the beautiful sight. Their lights from the tree shimmer across the entire room in a beautiful dance thanks to the addition of the tinsel. Even the ornaments shine a little brighter.

“Wow, Mr. Hodges!” exclaims a little girl. “Did you do this during our recess?”

Mr. Hodges gives a mischievous grin as he addresses his stunned students. “I didn’t do anything.” He walks over to Peter is laying. He helps him stand up, patting him on the back. “Peter did this.”

An abrupt hush falls over the students, their shocked gazes turning to Peter.

“This is so cool, Peter!”

“We have the best tree now!”

“Good job!”

Brynn sits up from under the tree, and starts motioning students to come over, encouraging them to take her spot. Within an instant, the classroom is silent with only the sudden ‘awe’ of wonder. The stepmom-to-be leans against a desk at the back of the classroom, admiring the children coming together, loving each other over a creation they made together.

Suddenly, her attention is pulled by the classroom door opening abruptly.

“Ms. Reynolds,” Mr. Hodges whispers intently, “we are so grateful you were able to make it today. The jubilee isn’t for another twenty minutes, but the kids are enjoying the tree they just finished–””

“Hey, Moma,” Peter runs up to his mom, giving her a big hug. The gesture clearly catches her by surprise as her eyes grow big.

“Hi, baby,” she giggles reluctantly, rubbing endearing circles on his back. “Are you having a good day?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispers, trying to conceal his snaggle-tooth grin. “Look at the tree!” Peter buries his head into his mother’s shoulder, her arms enveloping snuggly around him. She looks around the room, bewildered at the children obsessing over the tree. The young red-head looks back at his mother. “Thanks to Mickey and Mason’s mom, everyone loves my tinsel.”

“Oh,” Nicole’s face drops, her attention finally landing on Brynn at the back of the class.

“Peter, come over here with us!” Calls out one of the boys, inviting him into a group of classmates that included Mickey.

“Go play, Peter,” his mother encourages. As he scurries away, Nicole stands up, sauntering closer to Brynn, her attention remaining on the children. “For what it’s worth,” she sighs, “thank you for helping my Peter.”

Brynn kindly smiles, nodding at the sentiments.

“But let me make it clear,” she lowers her voice, “we don’t need people feeling sorry for us, or to write us off as a tax break–” she crosses her arms across her chest, “--or-or to make them feel better about themselves for being unkind to us.”

Brynn chews on the sides of her mouth. She looks at her shoes as a stillness settles between the two women. She knows she can’t take back what the boys have done against Peter; she knows that her words of encouragement will fall on deaf ears. Brynn did the only thing she knew she could do: she could relate.

“I was six years old when my dad left my mom and older brother–”

“Miss Schuyler, I–”

“--and my mom, a full-time homemaker–and damnit, she was the best,” Brynn glances at Nicole with a twinkle in her eye, “was forced to work outside the home with only her GED. Two jobs, barely ever home, and we still were hungry, We wore hand-me-down clothes that had holes in them.” She sardonically chuckles to herself. “Gah, we were so poor. But,” she smiles brightly to herself. “All I ever wanted was a real friend.”

Nicole’s expression softens as she turns towards Brynn.

Brynn continues. “Now, here I am, years later, about to marry into the Dalton family.” She turns towards Nicole. “And still, all I want in life are real friends.” She puts her hand on Nicole’s shoulder. “I hope today is a fresh start for Mickey, Mason, and Peter. And then maybe you and I can have a coffee sometime.”

At that moment, the women are called to help arrange the room for the third grade Christmas jubilee. Brynn grabbed her purse to store it away, but before she could walk off, someone grabs her arm.

“How about Sunday morning?”

Brynn twirls around, and instantly smiles, seeing Nicole holding on to her arm kindly. “How does nine sound?”

“Nine it is.”

------

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TWELVE DAYS OF FICTMAS TAGS

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[the-world-annealing]

(Inspired vaguely by @slatestarscratchpad's Columbian Exchange)

Ephemero: Excuse me, sir? Could you step aside for a second? I'm here to take down that statue and you're blocking my access.

Permanento: Never!

Ephemero: Hey, I'm just doing my job here!

Permanento: I don't care! City hall is really letting a few activists pressure them in removing the statue of general Nyrkoson, who lost his life guarding our borders from the Yorvardian invasion?

Ephemero: Well, if you're going to make this about his actions, he also killed and tortured prisoners, sent Yorvardian war orphans off to foreign lands for adoption, and popularized the use of nerve gas. Back when they built this statue nobody might have minded, but today we're enlightened enough to reject those actions, and the man who perpetuated them!

Permanento: Oh, sure, by our modern standards general Nyrkoson isn't a great person, but it's not about that! Statues aren't supposed to be an endorsement and display of those heroes who we still revere today! Statues are a way to trick rational egomaniacs into serving the common cause!

Ephemero: What? I thought you were going to make an argument about judging people by 'the values of their time', but this doesn't quite sound like it. Carry on?

Permanento: There's a group of people - a pretty large group, actually - that just doesn't care about others, won't lift a finger to help them, just cares about their own sense of greatness and importance. So society says, 'hey, if you are a prosocial champion of our values, if you make sacrifices to advance them, and accomplish great things, then we'll give you a statue to honor your deeds into the far future'. There's other stuff to it too, but let's use the statue as a symbol for now. And know what, it works! Off the egoists go to cure disease, right wrongs, even give their own lives: all for the chance at eternal heroism. If we start knocking down statues, we're changing the bargain to 'advance our values and we shall honor you until those values cease to appeal to us': that's a much worse deal!

Ephemero: Is it? Sure, you're getting fewer glory-seeking heroes, but you're getting better ones, right?

Permanento: Elaborate?

Ephemero: Well, imagine the 1800s. From your own, modern perspective, would you want the honored heroes of the 1800s to be its greatest doctors, or its greatest politicians?

Permanento: I'd imagine the doctors hold up a bit better? I like medicine, but a lot of 1800s politicians were pretty racist. I have no trouble admitting that, just as I'm fine with admitting Nyrkoson shouldn't get honored if he lived today.

Ephemero: Exactly! And people in the 1800s could have figured that out! They know that political trends come and go, but pretty much every society honors great medical achievements! But under your system, the egomaniacs don't really care: as long as they get a statue before their politics get too outdated, they're good! On the other hand, if their accomplishments must be justified to all future civilizations, then the medical track looks a lot better all of a sudden. We would still encourage greatness: just the greatness we like best!

Permanento: Now hold on! In the present day, that means people won't support present-day values: they will support the values of the society they imagine to be dominant for the coming centuries. I want heroes to serve our values, not those of their imaginary future-dwellers!

Ephemero: Well, predicting the future is hard, so they'll probably look at current-day causes that are steadily growing in support, or all-time success stories. Certainly, nobody who wants to become one of posterity's heroes would serve causes dwindling in popularity, like homophobia!

Permanento: Or nuclear power?

Ephemero: Fair; I am assuming that on the whole, society is getting more correct on the big issues over time. But even if we aren't, and norms never neatly converge on truth, that's just more reason to stick with the all-time favorites: feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless, curing the sick!

Permanento: Well, that's a very interesting philosophy, but there's one thing you haven't thought about, and it poses a major problem.

Ephemero: Which is?

Permanento: If you ever spread this philosophy far enough: enough for it to become an actual widespread ideal, enough for a public debate to start along the same lines as mine and yours, arguing whether or not statues should stand forever...

Ephemero: Oh.

Permanento: ...what side do you think all the driven, glory-obsessed egomaniacs will flock to support?

Ephemero: "I'm still going to need to take Nyrkoson down." Permanento: "No can do: I'm hoping this bullheaded resistance get me immortalized by future statue-lovers."