#See you all tomorrow for the Real Comic (manifesting it by saying it over and over again)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Having the Pool Dream again, handsome?

[themagikmirror]

In 2022, I created monthly content called "Care Plans" where I would sit down at my laptop every month and channel messages from Spirit based on astrological transits happening. These are messages channeled for the first 6 months of 2022. Use this information to reference lessons from 2022, & time stamp manifestations in your life currently....

JANUARY 2022 :

We even have our 1st #NewMoon tomorrow in #Sidereal #Sagittarius ♐️😉 I hope you use this opportunity to exercise your own faith and spiritual independence to see what the message is for you! What a great way to bring in the collective new year — with fire! 🔥 January also brings the first #MercuryRetrograde of 2022 beginning in 2 weeks and the end of the current #VenusRX at the end of the month!  🚀Keep in Mind Saturn will be in Capricorn and Jupiter will be in Aquarius until April 2022  Although Mars is in Scorpio until the end of the month, In general the month’s energy is dominated by Sagittarius & Capricorn energy.

FEBRUARY 2022 :

New Month, Similar Vibes ✨ See how you can take this opportunity to capitalize on things presented & over flowing from January 2022. 

MARCH 2022 :

March begins with EVERY PLANET in Sidereal Capricorn except the Moon,Sun & Jupiter. This means for a few weeks there will continue to be a Capricorn stellium (this has been the case for months now). However, today there’s an Aquarius stellium simultaneously (☀️ , 🌙 & Jupiter) ushering us into the New Moon in Aquarius tomorrow morning 🌚 3/2/22. Next week Mercury will join in Sidereal Aquarius recreating & continuing the Aquarius Stellium. Pisces transits will begin with the Sun 3/14/22. I’ve been talking some about Capricorn, but I’ve been more focused on Aquarius. This is because since December all Sidereal platforms, including this one have been talking about April 2022 —- THE SHIFT 🌪💨 of Saturn to Aquarius. March is the prelude to things that will become our new collective and individual priorities for a large part of 2022 & years to come. Once again we’re retrograde-free this month, but 🪐 Saturn did enter its shadow over the past weekend, beginning preparations for its June 2022 Retrograde.

APRIL 2022 :

The word this month I heard while posting this is :

“ACTIVATE YOUR NEW REALITY” 🐠✨Happy Pisces New Moon 🌑👁 I had to be a lil comical in this Care Plan because that’s just how the messages came through 💀. Sorry if you have to squint or zoom in to see, spirit had a lot to say. These are the principle energies of April 2022 and the messages coming from them. Some messages may be lingering from the Winter Season, which means the assignment didn’t change just because the energy did. Spring is going to go by much faster than Winter 2022! Don’t miss out, plant your seeds! We ALL have an individual part to play to advance the whole. I didn’t speak on the remaining #Capricorn energy because its fading away quickly! Mars & Saturn are the last planets lingering in Capricorn. Soon those two will be changing to Aquarius! But remember all the things Capricorn has shown you and handle yourself and your situations with #MATURITY

MAY 2022 :

I am left speechless by April. Entering May, Spirit had little to offer me as a channeled message for the energies of this month. Remember just because the energy changed, doesn’t mean the assignments did 🤷🏻‍♀️. That’s not how this stuff works. However, just as April was the completion of our collective & individual “shifts”… May is pushing us to embrace the change welcomed or not. We have a Mercury RX in Sidereal Taurus that snuck up on us real fast and quiet! This RX started April 25th when Mercury entered its shadow & the sign of Sidereal Taurus simultaneously. This entire month, MRX is in Sidereal Taurus and will not be over until the 1st week in June. Amongst that we also have a second eclipse - Sidereal Scorpio Full Moon Eclipse, the last of the TaurusxScorpio Eclipse series from 2021. I didn’t even notice this until I looked at my Sidereal calendar for May… I was actually shocked! BUCKLE THE FUCK UP 😵 SPRING 2022 IS SNATCHING WIGS & HAIRLINES. Keep in mind Saturn has been in its shadow for a few months preparing for its RX in newly entered Sidereal Aquarius. Jupiter also enters its shadow in Sidereal Pisces tomorrow. For the past few months we’ve been shifting around and now we gotta let it all settle. Above are the energies dominating this month & Per usual, opposing forces you can tap into if something is becoming “too much” for you. Notice how as things start to heat up towards Summer, its our job to bring in those cooler energies. 

JUNE 2022 :

Spring 2022 was a powerful season with lots of uncomfortable, but game changing moments 💖 Summer is only going to build on top of that! This first few weeks of June are a crossroads into the next season. Not much has changed in the messaging from transits happening in the following zodiac signs, but here’s some minor changes and reminders as we kick off June! There will ALWAYS be a challenge , its simply about how you handle it!

[tarydarrington]

This is the third time this week.

The Archmage of Civil Influence sits slumped over her pristine, deep red desk with her head in her hands. She can handle Ludinus. The man gives her a long enough leash, so long as she gets the right things done with it. She can even handle Professor Widogast, absurd as his new name might be, tiring as his constant pushing of the line between acceptable lesson plans and light treason might be. No, it’s not him. It’s his friend.

“Hi, Astrid!”

She presses her fingertips into her temples. Twenty-five words feels like more than one might think. Twenty-five and then twenty-five more and twenty-five more and on towards infinity feels like an eternity. Occasionally, for a while after Ikithon’s trial, she had received a friendly hello from Ms. Lavorre. That had been irritating enough. But from what she understands, the tiefling and two others are now at sea dealing with their own issues.

Veth Brenatto, on the other hand, seems to have absolutely nothing else for which to use her spells.

“How ya doing? Just checking in about that little get-together we talked about.”

Talked about is a generously mutual way to put it. There is an event planned for the end of the week at the dance hall she and Bren used to frequent. Brenatto is of the persistent opinion that she ought to attend with Professor Widogast. As his date.

Ridiculous, as she had snapped to Eadwulf last night, because if anything he would be her date - but that is beside the point.

“I know Caleb is waiting to hear a ‘yes,’” the voice in her head continues in its usual overly chipper tone.

Astrid does not believe for a second that “Caleb” is doing anything of the sort. They pass one another in the halls of the Soltryce occasionally, and their interactions are always a coin-flip between professional and very awkward. The only other time they see one another at all is when he’s dragged into her office for going on one of his famous little tangents in class, and he hardly seems interested in her authority, let alone her companionship.

“Good afternoon, Frau Brenatto,” she says smoothly, thankful that the woman can’t see her face. “As I have previously informed you, I would be happy to discuss this with Bren himself. Do have a pleasant day.”

She hopes it sounds sufficiently final, but allows herself a sigh as the halfling’s voice filters back into her mind a moment later.

“Caleb is very shy,” she says. “I think you intimidate him - which is silly, because he’s extremely powerful - but if you could just give me your answer--”

Astrid cups her face in her hands, fingers splayed. Only three more days until the dance has come and gone, and then she won’t have to deal with this anymore. Until the next time, of course. Or until Brenatto comes up with some other pretense to push them at each other.

“As I have said,” she says pointedly, “I would like to be sure that this invitation is coming from Bren. If he wishes to speak-” and he will not- “then we may.”

The next message is almost immediate this time, and Astrid resists the urge to bang her forehead onto the desk.

“Why don’t we go visit him together?” Brenatto asks with renewed enthusiasm. “Have some lunch, talk a little… I can leave you alone, if you two lovebirds are getting--”

Never before has she been so grateful for the limits of a Sending spell. She clears her throat, eyes falling on the stack of paperwork waiting in front of her. There is actual work to be done. Actual important work that does not involve a halfling jabbering in her head all afternoon. And, well, if confronting Bren directly about this nuisance could put an end to it?

“Very well,” she says on a sigh. “When shall we meet?”

Astrid wants to groan out loud at the ecstatic tone of the next message. They plan to meet tomorrow evening. Brenatto is already in town, for some reason Astrid doesn’t bother remembering, and they’ll arrive together at Bren’s little residence on the outskirts of the capital at sunset. Ostensibly, Veth will treat them all to a meal at Bren’s favorite establishment - but Astrid suspects things won’t get that far.

At least she can finish her paperwork, now.

She buries her face in Eadwulf’s shoulder that night and groans, “Why does she never do this with you?”

The following evening, she finds Veth Brenatto on the road outside Bren’s place, waving on her tiptoes with a wide grin splitting her face. Astrid gives her a tight, mirthless smile in return. Better to get this over with.

“I’m so happy that the two of you are getting some proper time to get to know each other again,” Brenatto says as they approach the door together.

Astrid will ignore the suggestive tilt of her eyebrows.

Bren’s place is smaller than those of most of the Academy’s faculty. He is one of the only professors who has chosen to live outside of the city center, opting instead for a little-travelled section of Rexxentrum to the northeast. The house itself is small and nondescript; she would never have picked it out, if she didn’t already know it was here. Astrid wonders sometimes about the secrecy, but she will let him have his privacy. She owes him that much, at least.

She shakes herself from her thoughts just in time to notice Brenatto reaching for the doorknob, but not soon enough to stop her from opening without a single knock. By the time she’s reached out to stop her, the door is already wide open.

And oh, this is rich.

“Caleb! I brought--” And then Veth sees them, too.

The man in question - Caleb or Bren or the physical manifestation of regret, whichever he pleases just now - has just fallen off the couch. Brought tumbling down with him is the drow with whom he’s intimately tangled up, face twisted into such a comical mix of shock and mortification that Astrid actually cracks a smile.

“Ah,” Bren says, pulling a blanket from the sofa to wrap around his partner’s shoulders, “Hallo, ja, come right in.”

The drow, for his part, has already waved a hand and magicked them both some clothing. Brenatto, for hers, has begun sputtering incoherently - which, after the week of endless pestering Astrid has had, sounds about like music. Astrid gives her a smug look, and gestures with one hand towards the two men hastily righting themselves.

“I believe this settles the matter,” she says coolly. “Thank you for the invitation.”

She gives Bren a knowing look, and he gives her a tired nod back. She doesn’t envy him the interrogation he’s about to endure. With a parting glance at the drow, who has retreated toward another room with his real clothing clutched just a bit too tightly in his hands, she turns on her heel and steps back out into the dusk.

That explains the secrecy, then. She hopes he’s good for Bren, whoever he is. He deserves something good.

Just as the teleport whisks her away, she hears Veth Brenatto screech, “Him?!”

[writethelifeyouwant]

Dive Bar, Ch. 1/?

Pairing: Dean x OFC (Dany) x Sam (brief), Dean x Sam (eventually)  Rating: 18+ Prompt/Summary: @spnkinkbingo square - Gay Panic (eventually, I don’t know how to write short things, so the gay panic comes later). Dany and Dean hit it off at a bar and Dean is confident it’s a sure thing. But Dean doesn’t know that Dany’s has a dare to complete, and he definitely didn’t imagine his night would end with his pull inviting his little brother to come home with them too.  WC: 3278 Tags: alcohol, cheesy flirting, tags will change next chapter 😉😏🍆 A/N: Okay, let’s be real. Anyone who knows me by now, knows I can’t fucking cut to the chase. Welcome to part one of who knows how many. If you want the smut quickly, I encourage begging 🤣(and so does Sam 😏) Ambience: Really want to set the mood? Welcome to a dive bar in Nowheresville, USA: Playlist and Ambience 

***

Sam told Dean he was crazy for even trying but Dean had a sense about these things; Sam didn’t. He was too considerate. Sam thought the fact she was out with her girlfriends meant she wasn’t interested, she wouldn’t want to be bothered, but Dean knew better. The ones who went up to get the next rounds were the ones who were looking to be bothered. They were separating themselves from the pack on purpose, to give guys the opportunity to pick them up and show them a good time. They wanted to prove to their friends that they were desirable. It wasn’t a bad confidence boost either, even if the guys that came on to them weren’t what they were after. 

So, when the girl with the flirty eyelashes that had been staring over at Sam and Dean’s table for the past half-hour spun off her stool and went to lean against the unpleasantly sticky bar, Dean knew his window had opened. 

“Watch and learn Sammy,” Dean smirked and slapped Sam’s shoulder as he sauntered over to his target, fixing his best smoulder in place. 

The girl felt movement behind her when Dean slid up and motioned to the bartender that he was after another round, and she turned with a coy but almost predatory twitch to her smile. She knew exactly who was behind her. 

“Hi there,” Dean was almost leering at the girl. 

*

Across the room, Sam was resisting the urge to put his head in his hands and pretend he’d never met his brother. This was gonna be a train wreck. At the very least, Dean was about to end up with one of those margaritas the bartender was laying down in front of her thrown in his face. 

Deciding to spare himself the second-hand embarrassment of watching Dean crash and burn with the coed he’d been eyeing since they arrived, Sam let his eyes wander the rest of the bar absentmindedly. He was nursing his second beer of the evening, after pounding back his first one with Dean in their stupid post-hunt ritual. 

It was new, their whole ‘who can down their beer the quickest’ routine. Before Stanford, Sam was lucky if his dad let him split a beer with them after a hunt, let alone chug one. But ever since he and Dean had been back on the road, it was like Dean was trying to make up for a bit of lost time, and things that absolutely smacked of immaturity were becoming part of how they lived their lives. Like how now, after a successful hunt, they always raced to the bottom of the first beer bottle, leaving the loser to buy the rounds for the rest of the night. 

When Dean started it, it was because he figured he obviously had the upper hand. He had years more drinking experience than Sammy, and there was no way the little geek had drunk that much at college.

What Dean didn’t know is that, for a while there, Sam and his friends had gone through a bit of a mental breakdown that manifested itself in endless parties, borderline alcoholism, and a very brief experimentation with some drugs on the ‘gateway’ end of the spectrum. Really, it was Sam’s best friend Brady pushing all of that, but with how he had grown up, Sam felt he was due some kind of breakdown, and it had felt good to let go for a little while. So, when Sam beat Dean in that first chugging contest, it became a whole different ball game. Now every time they did it, Dean was defending his honor. And he defended it about half the time but that night, Sam had won. 

Exhaling quietly in amusement at the absurdity of their routine, Sam spared a glance back towards Dean at the bar. He quickly ducked his head down when he realised Dean and the girl were looking over at him, like Dean was talking about him. Why would you spend time telling the girl you’re trying to bang about your weird kid brother? Maybe she had asked who Dean was there with, just making small talk. 

Yeah, that must be it, Sam thought to himself as he took another swig and realised he’d finished it on the sip before.

Torn between wanting another drink and not wanting to walk into the middle of a Dean Winchester flirt fest, Sam tried to quietly observe his brother again, hoping he would have struck out by now and it would be safe to approach. Peeking out from behind his hair Sam could see them leaning against the high wooden bar quite cozily, and laughing all nice and friendly-like. 

Damn. It looked like Dean was gonna be right about this chick; she was into him. Really, she shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone’s into Dean. And now he was gonna have to sleep in the Impala tonight. For once he’d like to just have a drink with his brother and go home (to the motel) and sleep in his own (motel) bed. Just perfect. 

*

When Dany turned around to acknowledge Dean, who had just sidled up behind her at the bar, she was very pleased with herself. 

Guys are just too simple, she mused. 

“Hi there,” Dean smiled down at her (he was considerably taller, despite her heels), charm turned on full blast. 

“Hey yourself,” she smiled back. She was friendly, but careful not to be too forward. Dean was the kind of guy that felt proud of winning the chase, she could just tell. And considering how forward she was planning on being after she made sure this guy wasn’t an axe-murderer, she figured playing coy for a little wouldn’t hurt. 

“So, this is kind of embarrassing,” Dean leaned down conspiratorially but still had to speak quite loudly to be heard above the noise of the bar. “My brother over there is a little shy.” Dean jerked his head behind him, to indicate where he had left Sam a moment before. 

Taken by surprise, Dany leaned back to look at Sam sitting alone at his high-top, who happened to look over at the two of them at the same time. Sam quickly ducked behind his bangs, trying very hard not to make eye contact. Dany giggled to herself. She had figured this guy was about to chat her up but he was over here asking for his brother who, based on his reaction a second ago, definitely was shy. How cute. 

“And,” Dean continued speaking and pulled Dany back from her thoughts of his shy and cute younger brother, “he wanted me to ask you for your number, so he knows how to get a hold of me tomorrow morning.” 

It took a second, but when the penny dropped Dany burst out laughing. Dean beamed, proud of his choice in pick-up lines, and let Dany get the giggles out of her system. “I know, I’m adorable.” Dean shrugged as if to say ‘what can you do?’ and leant back against the bar, bringing himself closer to Dany’s level. “I’m Dean.” He held out his hand and she took it, still stifling the last of her laughter. 

“Well, let me congratulate you on your originality Dean. I genuinely have not heard that one before.”

“Do I get a prize?” Dean’s eyebrows arched cheekily. 

“I don’t know,” Dany shrugged. “What do I get out of this deal?”

“Sweetheart, you get whatever you want.” 

“How about we start with a drink?” 

“Sure your friends won’t mind me taking up all your time?” 

Dany looked behind her to where she’d left her friends. They were all giggling and looking at her and Dean at the bar but trying to look like they weren’t paying attention to them at all. She shook her head despairingly at how unsubtle they were. Her friends were the worst. But she supposed they had more of a vested interest in how her night went than usual. Tonight was her dare night. 

“I think they can live without me for a little while.” 

*

“Wow, you’re really putting ‘em back sweetheart,” Dean laughed as Dany drained another beer. She was matching him round for round. 

“Well, I came out to have a good time tonight,” Dany shrugged, smiling mischievously. 

“How’s that working out for ya’ so far?”

“I’d say, so far so good, Dean.” 

Dean made finger guns at the empty glasses. “Get you another?” 

“Yeah, thanks,” she grinned as tucked her hair behind her ear. 

Dean rocked up to the bar and motioned to the haggard looking student behind it that he was after refills. When something brushed against his shoulder he jumped, reaching under his jacket until he realised it was just Sam. 

“Hey,” Dean drew out the ‘y’ on the end of his word. “Ma’ man Sam.” Dean smacked Sam’s shoulder and his brother tried to tamp down his bemused grimace. 

“How buzzed are you, dude?”

“Just the right amount Sammy,” Dean grinned wolfishly as he accepted the new beers from the bartender. The kid tried to take Sam’s order but Sam brushed him off. “Woah, you’re not tapping out?” Dean’s concern was almost comical. 

“Yeah, I’m just gonna go back to the motel. Grab some shut eye.” Sam tried to sound sage, like he was making this move because it was the smart, responsible thing to do, and not let on that it was his loneliness driving him home too early for Dean’s approval. 

“No, come on man, I’m not letting you be a sap tonight.” Dean waved over to the bartender for another beer, over Sam's objections. “N- listen. You’re gonna take this beer, bring it over to my table with Dany, and we’re gonna pick you out one of her friends.” Again, Sam tried to protest but there was a cold glass sloshing into his hand and a commanding grip on his shoulder and… he was always gonna follow Dean. “They’re all college chicks Sam. One of them has gotta be geeky enough for you.” 

When Sam got dragged to the edge of the table where Dean had left Dany a moment ago, something felt off. Sure he felt a little awkward becoming the third wheel while Dean sealed the deal on his sleeping arrangements for that evening but that wasn’t what he noticed the most. Dany looked far too happy to have the extra company at the table. Most girls with Dean in their tractor beams didn’t want anyone interfering, he’d been on that end of the stick one too many times to forget how it felt. But Dany was relaxed and smiling, beaming even, when Dean pushed Sam into a chair between them. 

Sam tried to settle into the easy conversation that Dany and Dean were having but he’s too preoccupied trying to suss Dany out to contribute much, despite Dany’s attempts to bring him into the discussion. 

“So Sam, Dean said you were the college goer in your family, what did you study?” Dany sipped her beer with her eyes trained on Sam. 

“Uh, pre-law,” Sam’s answer turned up at the end like a question. He wasn’t questioning what he studied at Stanford but he was questioning Dany’s motives in talking to him. Why wasn’t she just ignoring him and flirting with Dean? 

“Ah, smart guy. Interesting.” 

“What are you studying?” 

“Media and communications. I want to go into news or television.” 

“Well you definitely have the face for it,” Dean cut in smoothly. Dany flushed but she didn’t look embarrassed. She knew what she looked like. 

“Okay captain obvious,” Dany laughed. “You usually try this hard to get girls?”

Sam snorted into his beer, highly amused someone was calling Dean on his shit besides him. 

“Well I’m sitting here drinking with a beautiful woman. I don’t see any reason to pull punches,” Dean grinned. “Speaking of,” he leant forward craftily, “you got any other beautiful friends we can hook him up with?” Dean jerked his thumb towards his little brother. “I feel bad leaving him high and dry for the night.” 

“Dean!” Sam objected loudly, rolling his eyes. Dany just giggled. 

“Yeah I think I can help with that.” She drained her remaining drink and stood up. “Let me grab us one more round.” 

“Sounds great sweetheart,” Dean swatted at her ass as she passed him on the way back to the bar, ignoring Sam’s further objections to Dean’s new-found mission to get him laid. 

“Dude what are you doing?” 

“Helping you!”

“I don’t want your help!”

“Well trust me, you need it.”

“Do not!”

Sam’s objections were cut short when Dany returned with three beers and three shots on a tray; one clear and two amber. Dean reached for the drinks to help her unload. “What are we celebrating sweetheart?” He nodded to the shots. 

“We’ll find out soon,” Dany hedged, without giving up any more details. “So Sam, what’s your type?” 

Sam nearly choked on his beer. “Look Dany, ignore Dean please, I don’t need-” 

“No, come on, I’m invested now. What are you into? Boobs? Ass? Both?” Dany’s questions were curious but clinical. None of the teasing that Dean usually injected into the conversation when he tried to get Sam to open up about his sex life. Something in her tone was compelling. 

“Are we actually having this conversation?” Sam glanced between Dean and Dany astonishedly. “Did you slip something in my drink?” 

Dany laughed at Sam’s attempts to deflect but she could also see something in his face twitch, like his brows tugged up the corners of his lips. Something in him wanted to answer the question, wanted to open up to her. So she pushed. 

“Well?” 

Sam chuckled once ruefully, more to himself. Cracked his neck and settled back in his chair. Dany could tell he’d made up his mind, he was playing now. 

“Both,” Sam smirked. He was invested now too, and he wanted to see where Dany was taking this. Plus, it had been ages since he’d gotten any. 

“Okay,” Dany nodded and processed the information, deciding how that affected her line of questioning. Dean was keeping to himself in his corner, but he was having trouble hiding his grin behind his beer. This was already more than he’d ever been able to tease out of Sam. 

“Okay, so, not specific about body type, what about attitude? Feisty and forward?” Dany leant forward and trailed her finger down Sam’s arm. He smirked. “Or shy, and sweet?” She withdrew her hand, and ducked behind her hair. 

“Okay, why do I feel like I’m getting shut out here?” Dean laughed from his over his drink, not sounding as cocky as he hoped he did. 

“Don’t worry Dean, I’m not letting you go anywhere,” Dany smirked. “I’m just doing what you asked, making sure Sam here is sorted out for the night too.” Dany turned her smile back to Sam. “So which one? You like feeling in charge? Or you like getting a little roughed up like Dean over here?”

Now it was Dean’s turn to choke on his beer. “Excuse me sweetheart, what makes you think-”  

“Come on Dean,” Dany batted her eyes back in his direction. “I know what you’re after. I know you’re a boob man, that’s why you picked me. Your pick up lines and bravado, they’re looking for validation. You’re looking after your little brother, trying to make sure he’s happy, taken care of… you want someone to do the same thing for you.” 

Sam and Dean were both a little speechless. Dany reached past her empty beer and grabbed the shot glass with the clear liquor. 

“You sure you don’t actually study psychology or something?” Sam drained the last of his beer, impressed. 

“I’m not a shrink,” Dany smiled and shrugged. “I’ve just spent some time with some people, I know what to look out for.” 

“So, who are you picking out for me then?” Sam leant forward, now profoundly interested in what Dany may have deduced about what he wants in the bedroom. 

“Come clean time,” Dany knocked back her shot with a grimace and let the courage that came from lower inhibitions bubble up. “My friends and me, we play a game most weeks, pick a dare out of a hat. This week mine… was ‘have a threesome.’” Dany peeked up from behind her hair to look at Dean, who looked like he had just won the lottery. Sam’s expression was cautious. 

“Okay, so who else we taking home with us sweetheart?” Dean rubbed his hands together and turned to look back at Dany’s group of friends.  

“Sam.” Dany answered simply. 

“Which one’s Sam?” Dean was still scanning the group of coeds. 

“Uh Dean, I think she means me…” 

“My dare was a threesome with two guys.” For the first time that evening, Dany’s grin was a little sheepish. “Look I uh- I’m not just doing this because of the dare, it’s not coercion or anything. I wouldn’t be asking you both back if I didn’t want it.” 

Dean hadn’t found his voice yet. He was just staring at Dany, mind clearly running a mile a minute, and resolutely not looking at Sam. Sam, on the other hand, couldn’t take his eyes off Dean. The only recognisable emotion on Sam’s face was the tinge of fear in his eyes, like he was waiting for the bomb to go off, and getting more and more anxious by the second the longer it didn’t. 

“Why don’t I give you guys a minute to talk,” Dany stood up and pushed the shots she had bought towards them, “and I’ll go grab my purse and meet you by the door?” 

“And by ‘you’, you’re speaking in the strictly plural sense?” Sam checked, fingering the whisky in front of him. 

“That’s up to you guys,” Dany smiled and rounded the table, dragging her fingers over Dean’s shoulders on her way back to her friends. That seemed to be enough to jumpstart Dean back into speaking.

“Dude what the hell?” Dean’s voice was so, so close to a squeak, Sam really had to hold in his laughter. 

“What?” Sam was good at poking the bear. 

“What do you mean what? What the fuck?” 

“Yeah, I think that’s what she wants Dean. She wants to fuck.” 

“Yeah with me and my little brother!” Sam could tell Dean wanted to be shouting but he was keeping his voice to a hiss as best he could. 

“Yeah, so?”

“So?!” 

God Dean was so easy to wind up, Sam grinned. “Dean, have you never had a threesome before?” 

“Uh, yeah, of course.” 

“You’re lying,” Sam was astonished. He figured of course Dean would have done this kind of thing before. “You’ve never done one before?” Sam had to double check. 

“What, like you have?” Dean defended angrily. 

“Uh, yeah,” Sam’s grin was an unusual combination of sheepish but proud. “I um- I have actually, yeah.” Sam reached back and rubbed his neck, at a loss of what to do with his hands right now. 

“What the fuck did you do at that college?” 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me Dean.” 

“Okay, so what, you’re saying you’re okay with this?” 

“I’m saying, there’s a real pretty girl over there by the door that wants to have sex. And she wants it so much, she wants two dicks in the equation.” Sam fixed Dean with a firm, decided stare. And he was pretty sure that Dean’s uncertainty was about to evaporate. Dean finally met Sam’s eyes and Sam saw the fight melt out of him. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathed, then downed his shot.

***

Tags: @negans-lucille-tblr @hawkerz12​ @akshi8278​ @babybrotherandthedemon​ @dylansbabygirl24​ @mineshinamary​ @popsensationnicole23​ @spn-problems​ @donthateme454​  @doyouknowsamw​ @peridottea91​ @delightfulbakeryaliendeputy​ @fictionallemons​

I tagged everyone who liked my ‘announcement’ post. If you want to be tagged or you want me to take you off tags, just lmk!  

[nonamenotitles]

HELLO, IN THIS ESSAY I WILL TALK ABOUT RIDDLER AND DO A COMPARISION WITH A POP CULTURE BRAZILIAN CHARACTER AS WELL.

.

RIDDLER is a fascinating character. He can be portrayed as silly, or menancing. A gentleman with finesse and complex schemes or a completely mess who doesn’t really know what to do, but hey here’s 10 dolars for solving my riddle! Also Spandex! And Question Marks!

My Favorite Edward is the one from @askarkham. There’s  lot of thing I like about him, but the one that resonates with me the most is this:

Ronnie, how dare you give me feels!

Because I’ve been there, my anxiety sometimes fills my head with so many things it’s overwhelming.

I am a lot better know with therapy and stuff.

But before treatment I too, soo many times, cried the same phrase.

That really touched me

Sooo

That’s why I’d like to talk about my fave villain who is very similar of another beloved character here in Brazil, who shaped every childhood here. (And I do get a little pride at showing my people’s comics, they’re great!)

A lot of other characters reminds me of the riddler. Like Wheatley!

@canadian-riddler made an wonderful analysis of the two characters.

I’ll poorly describe them: Polite and condescending, friendly enough until he get’s high advanced technology. Then he wants to put you through puzzles and puzzles and if you keep getting it right he will try to murder you with one of them.

But the character that reminds me of Riddler the most is:

Jimmy Five (English) Cebolinha (little onion) Cebola (onion) from Monica’s Gang/ Turma da Mônica

His main traits is his ingenuity, his five pointed hair and his dysdalia (pronounces R as L)

@drdeath​ did na wonderful analysis of Riddler and he’s motivations, and both these characters personality and motives matches a lot.

Cebolinha is a kid who gets in lot of trouble. He’s a very smart and clever kid, always bragging about he’s superior intellect, and creating “infallible plans” (who always fail) to defeat Mônica and earn the title of “owner of the street”.

Cebolinha also messes with Mônica to get her attention and for fun, calling her names ( he has a little crush on her, and in Turma da Mônica Jovem they’re dating) and he has almost a compulsive desire to knot the ears of her rabbit plushie.

Mônica’s main way to deal with the boys name calling is hitting them with her blue rabbit plushie (though the also gives them advice and uses other ways) which hurts a lot because she has super strengh!

Even though he has been beated numeours times Ceblinha never gives up. Believing he deserves the title of Owner of the Street, yet a lot of he’s plans fail because he understimates Monica’s own cleverness.

Despite everything the two kid’s consider themselves friends, and don’t hesitate to protect each other. We have a movie about the group of kids helping cebolinha to find his dog, floquinho.

A lhasa apso that for some reason is GREEN.

Turma da Mônica Jovem.

These comics are about the characters as teenagers. Cebola grew to be na expert with comouters, games and technology, he went to a professional and now only speaks L intstead os R when his nervous.

Batman notices it (but it’s another comic for another time)

Now he wants to take over the world to make it a better place.

He’s cleverness and plans saves his friends through the many and dangerous adventures they get themselves in.

Yet he’s been called out on his manipulations.

One of the earlie sagas was about the ID Mosters, the physical manifestations of the group worst traits and impulses.

They manifested because it’s in the teenager years that kids start to get more emotional changes, and start to be aware of their impuses and control them better than when as kids by developing their emotional intelligence.

Cebola’s mosters is a Liar and master manipulator who uses his charms and skills to get whatever he wants. And the kid had to deal with his shame and realise he is and can be a better person than in he was in the past.

Maybe Arkham should try the “fight the physical manifestation of your Id” it seems to work.

Important scene in the Saga.

Here Red Monica is Monica’s ID monster disguised. Humilliating Cebola. Later the Real Monica confronts him, thinking he’s sending fake messages  to make her look bad. So he feels he’s being gaslighted.

THEN HE BEGS HER TO BEAT HIM.

C: Mônica...No... I will do anything...I

Cellphone*Sending to all contacts*

RM: Tomorrow you will make another  sign, and will do my homework too! Or else... I will send your other love notes so everyone will laugh at you.

C: I thought that we...

I thought that...

I thought that you liked me!

RM: And I Like! I like when you do what I SAY!

M: CEBOLA!

Speak now! What nonsense is this!

Why are you saying such things about me. Did you decide to go back to the old plans?

Why are you lying,Cebola?

C: BEAT ME UP!

Go on, Mônica! Beat me up already! It was better when you beat me up!

C: Because being beated up by you doesn’t hurt s much...

As what you’ve being doing...

NOW! Of course emotional manipulation hurts more than being punched.

And what was the blackmail: Humilliation

Tying it with the Riddler: Edward surely feels that being beaten up by Batman hurts much less than the humiliation of being defeated. That’s also why he goes on and on with puzzles and plans even though if he fails he will physically hurt.

Because he’s already hurt! He already feels humilliated! And that’s the worst pain he’s ever endured and is still going on.  

Back To the comics.

Later in the comics, He and Mônica confessed his feeling to each other, but Cebola explained he can only date her after defeating her.

He does get called out on it in later editions.

C: Mônica...I...

M: Why illusions of grandeur, Cebola? Why do you believe you need to be superior than me?

C: Superior? I don’t want to be above you, Mônica!

I want to be equal! Sice childhood you’ve been strong... confident...the leader...

While I always was the changing-letters kid who got beaten up at the end.

Okay, Edward Nigma wants to be above Batman. But most of the feelings is the same.

Eddy sees Batman as strong, and confident and a leader. While he’s the one who’s humiliated and beaten up.

C: You don’t realize it, right? You have no idea how hard it is to stand at your side...

Without feeling small.

I think I’m giving a little fuel to batriddle shippers... oh well.

As you can see, like Riddler, Cebola feels that he needs to prove himself, needs to prove he’s worth, to the point of delaying everything else in his life until heachieves it.

So my analysis is complete. BEHOLD!

HEADCANONS

I found a fic that I still wanna read called “Dinner at Wayne Mansion”, I get Riddler made the highest bidding in Bruce Wayne at the Bachelor Auction.

It reminded me of that comic where Eddie tried to trick Batman into dining with him.

I think this universe riddler would totally do the auction thing just to talk all night long with Bruce Wayne, and his projects and stuff. All happy and giddy. “Oh Bruce, how are the kids doing?”

Edward lowkeys wants Bruce Wayne to adopt him.

Come on DC! Give us na alternative universe where after his first crime and Batman finding out about he’s abusive household, Bruce decides “Okay I’m gonna raise this young man”.

Stephanie LOVES her Big Brother Eddie! He beat up her abusive dad (Cluemaster) and humilliated him with trivia knowledge and stuff.

I think one thing that should be explores is Riddler as na expert magician, he is a master escapist because he loves houdini, and magic employs cleverness and illusion.

He’s a geek for magic tricks.

He shows them to Harley and Jervis who look bright eyed and “Oooooooh”

Firefly asks if he knows fire tricks

He does and promplity shows off his skill.

Then John has to clean out the entire hideout because Edward fell for it and now Garfield knows there are flammable chemicals here.  

Final Thought.

Well, there’s ANOTHER brazilian character that he reminds me of.

Visconde de Sabugosa  (Viscount of Corncob) from  The Yellow Woodpecker Farm

Ginger like lots of adaptations

Soul patch

Green tux

He’s main trait is his intelligence

differences

HE IS A LIVING DOLL MADE OF CORNCOB!

@jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear​

@weyoun​

@askarkham

@drdeath​

@frommylack​

@praprikat

[norabrice1701]

An Offer Received - Part VI

A Jaguar Villain Tom Hiddleston Character (Thomas Conrad) fanfic

Pairing: Thomas Conrad x Fem!reader

Summary: Life underwater reveals the grand plan and...victory?

Rating: Sexual content NSFW smut (more sensual than explicit, but still please be ye warned), controlling behavior, f-bombs, discussion of violence happening out-of-scene, Conrad being Conrad 

Previously: Part V - 5 Days 

A/N: And we come to the end! Hopefully the loose economics isn’t too off-putting and semi-plausible (at least for this version of a modern world ha). Thank you to everyone who’s read and enjoyed! 

GIF credit to the original poster via the Tumblr search! 

Part VI - 5 Empires 

As best you could figure, there were three compartment rooms exclusive for your and Conrad’s use. The first was the combined living room and your office. The second was a smaller room, connected to your office, that served as Conrad’s office – his nerve center, as you came to think of it. The third room was a single bedroom with a bed just big enough for two; built-in wardrobe and drawers lining the walls; and a small, functional bathroom. Or head, as the onboard sailors called it.

Beyond those three compartments, your movements were fairly limited and presided over by the seemingly indifferent crew that moved around you. “Miss Fox”, they all called you, inclining their heads politely when you passed or encountered them in the wardroom. Fortunately, no one waited on you hand and foot. You had free reign in the wardroom for food, coffee, and snacks. Hell, you suspected you might gain weight on this voyage with no chance to run or get any real exercise. At least the clothes that had been provided for you were surprisingly practical – suits with both trousers and skirts, tasteful blouses, silken cami and shorts sleepwear – all perfectly in your size.

Between working and surfing channels on the TV, you kept busy enough. It was still surprising that wireless internet or satellite or whatever it was worked so seamlessly underwater for all digital connections during your voyage.

Now that you were trapped with him underwater, living day-to-day, sharing a bed every night...it was disturbingly domestic and not. He still hadn’t told you much that was practical about anything, other than how to operate the shower controls. 

You’d thought that, surely, now that you were here with him and no means of escape - maybe you would finally be privileged to know the grand plan. But you didn’t even know where the submarine was heading. You didn’t have your passport, but somehow you didn’t think that would be a problem whenever you arrived. But if this was his big move - or if he was making big moves - then would you at least be privileged to know if he won? Or if he lost? 

That thought sat funny with you. If he lost. Of course, it was possible and, in fact, quite probable. Supervillains bent on world domination never won in the movies or comic books. But did you really consider Conrad a supervillain?

Hard to say.

He didn’t act much differently. He’d always walked and stood with the authority that he owned the world. With LOKI, he certainly had, and nothing about that had changed now. His cool, controlled demeanor had yet to slip, even though you spent a lot more concentrated time around him. At first, you feared what the single bed in the one bedroom would herald, but until last night, he’d been an unexpectedly, perfect gentleman. And even then, he’d only given you what you all but took from him. 

You hadn’t meant to wake up. But the motion of the bed as he slid beneath the sheets stirred you. His scent enveloped you, always so enticing. Your hand reached out in a sleepy haze, settling to the hard plane of his chest, fingers tangling in the light scatter of hair. The heat of his body permeated the air, a welcome contrast to the chill of the submarine’s filtered air. Your head drifted on the pillow, only wanting to curl closer. 

His minty breath fanned your face as a warm, solid hand covered yours, pressing it flat against his skin. Arousal suffused you, warm and rolling. Your legs twitched against the sheets, brushing his coarse leg hair. His nose skimmed yours as you breathed him in. 

When your lips met his, there was no resistance. No illusion. Half-lucid drowsiness had given way to aching want, and he groaned softly as you rolled atop him. His hand rose to frame your face, angling you deeper into the kiss as his other hand drifted down your spine. You moaned, low and breathy, as tongues tangled and you felt his arousal grow against you. Without realizing it, your hips started to roll in slow, teasing waves. 

In a fluid, tender motion you were on your back with the heat of his body everywhere above you. Those nimble fingers caressed your breast through the silk of your cami as he angled his hips to let you slide down his sleep shorts. Yours went next and you whimpered at the feel of him, hard and heavy, against your core. With no words, no questions, he pushed inside, burying to the hilt before setting a slow, steady pace. 

He brushed that secretive, intense place within you on each stroke, tearing raw moans from your throat. Tears stung your eyes, overwhelmed and overcome, as he continued to move, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back. His forehead rested against yours, noses nuzzling as you each gasped and moaned your shared pleasure. With the deep slide of him inside and the press of him outside, it didn’t take long until your release burst in blinding euphoria. 

And you did the unthinkable. Words slipped from your lips before you could even think. 

“Oh, Tom….” 

You didn’t realize what you’d said until later. Much later. After he’d told you not to wash away the evidence of your shared passion. After you’d fallen asleep, curled into him, despite the tacky moisture pooling between your thighs. After you’d woken to see the sheets stained beyond reuse. After he’d brought enough breakfast and coffee for two as you each dressed for the day. 

And now...now, you braced for his response. For his inevitable retaliation for the liberties you took, either with his given name or his person. He’d never given you permission to call him ‘Tom’. 

You blew another sigh, distracted from your work yet again. And all of that was to say nothing of even beginning to analyze what drove you into his arms at the late night hour in the first place. Was this the beginning of some twisted captivity dependency? Where you were just that desperate for human contact that you turned to your captor? 

Not quite. He hadn’t abducted you. You could have pitched a fit, refused to go, and likely wound up in the bottom of the harbor along with your watch. But you didn’t. You were here.

The VI on the bottom of your foot throbbed. 

But the hours continued to progress, and it proved just another day under the water.

Until it wasn’t. Until he lounged on the couch, oddly close to you, oddly relaxed. His tie had disappeared, along with his suit jacket. The top buttons of his dark shirt revealed a tease of skin, and his sleeves were cuffed just above his elbows. He sipped from a highball of scotch as you nursed your wine. The TV droned mindlessly on global news, current events.

“It’s been four days,” you started softly, “are we still planning to arrive tomorrow?”

He took a slow sip of scotch. “Yes.”

“Is that when I’ll learn more?”

He cut you with a wry, sideways look. “Don’t you want to maintain some plausible deniability?”

You bristled. Sure, you’d thought of that, but you didn’t like the insulation on his voice. You weren’t ready for him to make a rash decision on your behalf and cut off your left foot. “At this point…after last night – difficult to deny I’m not a willing participant in your coup or revolution or whatever you’re terming it.”

“It’s neither of those things.” He paused for another mouthful of scotch. “Certainly nothing so dramatic. Dramatic change invites a dramatic response, which does no one any good. Subtlety is key until the moment of revel.”

You couldn’t hold back a soft snort. “Until you…what? Rise out of the water on a fountain of righteousness?”

“Nothing so fantastical. The dominoes will start to fall tomorrow. You’ll see.” 

You took another drink of wine, debating pushing your luck. Why not? “I thought you might be angry, or...displeased after last night.” 

He hummed softly, his eyes darting up and down your torso as he raised a hand to his mouth, teasing his thumb with his front teeth . “Now, why would you think that?” 

“No one calls you ‘Thomas’, let alone ‘Tom’.” You weren’t going to mention that conversation with Amelia. “I just want to know if I should be on my guard for you to corner me against the bulkhead for another of your so-called ‘lessons’.” 

“In the dark of night with you warming my bed so freely, you’ll find little behind closed doors that displeases me. However, should such an incident bleed over into the daylight, that will be a different discussion.” 

You blinked, doubting you heard him right. “That...that’s it?” 

He turned to you with a distantly annoyed expression. “I’ve told you before - you’re not one for trite questions. You have what you have. And soon…,” his lips curled in a wolfish smile, “we’ll have the world.” 

You’re not sure how you slept that night, but you did. You did, and you worked until he interrupted you, switching on the news. 

“Alright, thank you, Adam.” The anchor turned back to face the main camera. “Again, to recap - if you’re just joining us - we’re 14 hours into what’s already being called the most massive market shakeup in history. The trend started in the Japan Exchange Group - the world’s 3rd largest financial market. A trickle of sales and acquisitions that grew to cascading proportions, with far-reaching impacts into the Shanghai, Hong Kong, and Shenzhen Stock Exchanges. Financial analysts are now reporting the moves permeated across these markets now have spread through the Bombay Stock Exchange, and are starting to manifest in Euronext. We have our own analyst, Ted Marshall, joining us now. Hello, Ted.” 

The newscast split screens, and a spectacled man in a frumpy suit joined the anchor. “Hello, yes - as you said - the financial world has never seen movement of this magnitude. And, to be clear, we’re talking about movements of tectonic proportions that have left investors around the globe scratching their heads and frantically trying to keep up.” 

“As we’ve already seen, six of the ten largest markets in the world have already been impacted. What risk do you see for the remaining four markets?” 

“I don’t think it’s a risk at all - I think it’s a predictable reality. Pinhole leaks precede a tsunami wave breaching a seawall. We’ve already seen those pinhole streams flow from one market to the next as trading floors open and then the big wave hits. It’s as if someone has found the thread that unites all of the world’s major markets, and is following that thread across the time zones, pulling to unravel and create something new.” Ted shook his head, as if in disbelief. “The world’s top ten stock markets control almost 80% of the global wealth. If what we’re seeing continues on through the UK and US based markets, then we could be looking at the largest redistribution and consolidation of wealth in history.” 

You stared at the TV, nearly agape. This was unreal...it had to be. It didn’t make sense - how could....? 

A cold chill ran down your spine as you glared over at Conrad. Sure, he was normally a man of confident bearing, but the intense pride that suffused his handsome face was unsettling. Slowly, he turned towards you, the corner of his mouth lifting as he spoke. “Admittedly, it was a hard thread to identify.” He muted the TV volume. “It took me years to execute the right contracts, plan the right mergers. And then more time, still, to recruit foot soldiers. But the sales and acquisitions will continue to waterfall through the western markets - until they seize upon the floors of the Nasdaq and New York Stock Exchange, with LOKI emerging a triumphant victor.” He glanced back at the TV with an almost secretive air. “The reporters have it right - the world’s top ten markets do control nearly 80% of the global wealth, and by the time of the closing bell on Wall Street - 75% of that wealth will be directly under my control.” 

Your eyes widened. “You’re just...you’re stealing the global wealth to fund your takeover?” 

“Did you hear any mention of illegal activity?” He cut back to you with a sharp look. “That’s the beauty of it - all the sales, all of this tectonic movement and consolidation - has been out in the open for everyone and anyone to exploit, given the right resources and strength of will. Surely, I don’t need to remind you that I have both of those fully at my disposal.” 

“But that’s...that’s….” Words escaped you as you turned back to the TV, seeing the headlines and stock market numbers on the screen. It was...dammit, it was smart, it was genius...it was terrifying. You forced a swallow. “So, what then? Once you control 75% of the global wealth, what happens then?” 

“With 75% of the global economy facing bankruptcy, world leaders will have very little choice. But as I’ve said before, it’s a balance act to prove one has enough bases covered. Economic prowess is not enough to bring the nations into alignment, so it must be supplemented.” He glanced down at his watch, swiping through the touchscreen and pushing a side button. 

The TV channel changed to a tactical display - a visual of the world’s continents with major cities marked and identified. Each city had a stock market indicator, tracking the progression of wealth accumulation, and symbols that looked like traffic signals. Most of the cities just had one traffic signal indicator, but some cities like Tokyo and London had two indicators. Washington, D.C. had three indicators. In fact, now that you looked again - all cities had red lights at the top of the indicators, but Tokyo and Beijing’s indicators were yellow. 

You gulped, trying to understand. Both Tokyo and Beijing had a full wealth accumulation tracker, so what did the yellow lights represent? You turned to Conrad, his gaze fixed on you, observing your study of the map. “The yellow lights...does that represent your supplement?” 

The dark grin that curled his lips didn’t reach his eyes. “It represents an inbound warhead. Two targets in Tokyo and one in Beijing - undetectable by radar, too small for anti-missile defense, and enough firepower to reduce the seats of those governments to smoldering ruins.” He waved at the TV. “With a few strategic hits, the old guard will visibly crumble, paving the way for a new world.” 

“That’s monstrous!” You stared at him wide-eyed in disbelief. “Killing all those innocent people!” 

“Innocent is a kind word for those who have brought the world to such a state. A few will perish, yes. Such important buildings are never truly empty, even after hours when the majority of its occupants are off basking in the wealth of their reaping.”

“But you can’t…that - that makes you no better than they are.” 

“There are only so many ways to get their attention, and in this case - it’s best to speak languages they understand.” 

You shook your head, still horrified. “Money and violence.” 

“Precisely.” 

You wanted to keep admonishing him, yelling at him, and even beg him to stop. Each scenario played out with ultimate futility in your mind. This was his submarine, this was his show, and this was his moment. Nothing in his overbearing arrogance would bend to your wishes that he cease and desist. 

So, you watched. You watched the stock market wealth accumulators fill. You watched the traffic signals drop from red to yellow, and ultimately to green. You tried not to think about how many lives each light represented. Occasionally, the TV would revert back to the news - each station overwhelmed with the amount of incoming information, updates on world leaders rushed to safety, financial markets upheaved, buildings exploding into flame in yet another new city. 

It was terrible to watch. Terrible, and yet - like a train crash - impossible to look away. 

After time, after hours - eventually, the last wealth accumulator peaked. The last signal turned green. 

And nothing. Nothing happened. The submarine continued along, just as it always had. Just another day under the water, blissfully oblivious to the destruction raging across the continents above. You’d completely lost track of the hour, feeling a deep bone-weary exhaustion gnaw at you. You couldn’t even recall the last time you’d eaten, your stomach a giant knot from all the anxious news activity. 

Still, you watched coverage of the fallout. Unknown numbers of injured, but significantly less than if the buildings had been occupied. And the list of damage was extensive. Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building. The Great Hall of the People. The Kremlin. The Grand National Assembly of Turkey. The Government of India Building. The Palace of Westminster. Buckingham Palace. The White House. The United States Capitol. But you already knew - you’d seen the map. 

But then came a breaking announcement. After the twenty-four hours of chaos, everything had fallen still and quiet. No more inbound missiles. No more stock market movement. In fact, the governments of the world were beginning to read the outcome in the settling dust, starting to grasp that the vast wealth of the global economy was no longer theirs to control. 

There were too many questions and not enough answers in the chaos - but there was a note. A single message with a concise purpose that arrived at the United Nations conspicuously after the last missile fell. 

It brought a request. A request for a meeting. A request to talk through the global situation. And the meeting was due to start within minutes. World leaders from all over the globe planned to call in and listen firsthand to the discussion. And, of course, the origin of the note was untraceable and anonymous. 

But you knew who had sent it. 

He stood next to you now, dressed in the finest suit of his collection. The crispest cut, the sharpest fit, and the dark navy color did wonders for the crystal blue of his eyes. He looked like a man of power. Like...like the ruler of the world. 

He caught your gaze with a sideways smirk before he turned for the door to his office. “Mustn’t be late, you know.” 

You exhaled shakily. “So...so, that’s it? It’s over? You...won?” 

He paused at the door, turning back for one last glance, steely determination glinting in his eyes. “What other choice do they have?” 

The door closed behind him, and you held your breath.

The End

[angrylizardjacket]

Yaaasss!!! Jelous Ben was si cuteee and we love a supportive mother, her mom is fantastic and a savage. I hace a question, how did you come up with reader's character in x-men?? I legit googled it as I thought it was a real character, so welk done.

i love her mum so fuckin much, dude, she’s supportive but can still be embarrassing at times. i wrote her, not like my actual mum, but like my dad now that i think about it. dude literally told me over the phone that he’d physically fight people for shittalking me (not just in general, there’s more context, but the point still stands). idk i think it’s disingenuous to not let parental characters have certain flaws, like they’re allowed to be overprotective and spiteful, as well as caring and supportive. i love her too.

oH SHIT DUDE LEMME TALK ABT MY GIRL CASSIDY TEMPLE I LOVE HER SO FUCKING MUCH AND I”VE PUT SO MUCH THOUGHT INTO HER THAT THIS WILL HAVE A READ MORE

so cassidy’s powers are actually based off of an xmen oc i’ve already written 70k about, Aoibheal Cassidy, younger sister of Banshee, Sean Cassidy, and Cassidy Temple’s name is a reference to her, since originally I was going to essentially have Y/N playing Aoibheal (because it’s my fic and i can include an homage to my xmen oc as a treat). the powers themselves are based loosely on Multiple Man from X-Men: The Last Stand, except Cassidy’s clones can’t live a life of their own like his can. In the xmen fic, aoibheal starts off with having unlimited clones, and they can explode because i thought it was neat tbh.

From the original fic, Molotov Heart, chapter 3, rubatosis:

[Context; humans experimenting on mutants between X-Men First Class and X-Men Days Of Future Past have caught Sean and Aoibheal and they experiment on them even though Aoibheal’s powers have not manifested (she is approximately 13) and they kill her brother in front of her]:

Stunned into silence, she can feel something white-hot building inside of her, all the rage and fear and pain becoming almost tangible.

She mutates.

Copies of Aoibheal, clones, appear around them, filling up the space between the now screaming and bewildered 'doctors'. Aoibheal herself doesn't seem to notice the clones, bawling her eyes out, an action the clones themselves are mirroring, and she thinks of nothing but freedom and escape, focusing on the white-hot feeling inside of her until it overwhelmed her. With the force of a bunker-buster bomb, the clones began to combust, began to explode, first a few, and then all at once. Killing the human personel who had kept her hostage, the blast reduced the warehouse to mere cinders, freed Aoibheal and left her clothing in tatters, but she was alive damn it.

The reason Cassidy has a limited number is because i needed a way to have her powered up as a horseman, like a distinct power up, rather than just something unseen like heightened reflexes and strength. 

I would like to point out also, that it’s not stated, but Cassidy’s explosions (NOT AOIBHEAL’s) are never to do with heat, they’re always about force. the explosions themselves are never hot, never have anything to do with fire or anything like that, she builds up force inside of the clones, and lets it tear her apart from the inside out as a wave that destroys the things it comes into contact with.

The scream was originally hereditary, like Banshee, it developed as her secondary mutation.

From the Marvel Wiki:

The Secondary Mutation (or "Second Mutation") is a phenomenon in which an existing mutant undergoes another mutation, gaining additional powers, such as healing, or a change in appearance.

Secondary mutation is noted as the appearance of new powers, or an increase in existing powers.

It was stated by Beast that the secondary mutations usually occurred in the twenties of the subjects, and generally appeared in time of great stress.

From the original fic, chapter 8, nodus tollens:

The appearance of the secondary mutation:

The world falls apart in a blur of movement. The gun goes off just after Raven jumps and makes a break for the window, the bullet curves as she crashes through the glass, following her on the way down. Tackling Erik earns Hank a mean right hook to the jaw, but Aoibheal’s there, looking at Trask like a dear in the headlights, memories whipping through her head like a hurricane - the sick fuck looks pleased to see her – her mouth falls open and she screams. She and the clone scream in tandem, their voices supersonic as the surrounding people clutched their ears for dear life; struggling to keep a hold of the feeling in her chest that caused her to explode, the clone detonates like a firework, scorching the wallpaper while Trask is stumbling to the door. There’s blood leaking from his ears but Aoibheal can’t move, can only scream and relive the memory of her brother’s murder over and over again.

Hank discussing it:

"I've never seen a secondary mutation so vastly different!" No longer blue or furry, [Hank’s] smile is excited as he looks over at her. Sharing the cockpit feels almost familiar by now, with Aoibheal curled up in the passenger seat nursing a glass of water. "It makes sense though, your original mutation – the explosions – would be an extension of your temperature immunity, but your secondary mutation is hereditary."

Cassidy’s scream, however, unlike Banshee’s, only effects things with ears, not inanimate objects like glass. Of course she could learn the right pitch to get glass to shatter like an opera singer, but generally speaking, her scream only effects things that can hear. 

OKAY LETS TALK ABT THE STUFF I FABRICATED FOR THE FIC

oh GOD I WANT TO TALK ABOUT HER RELATIONSHIP WITH MAGNETO

not as in romantic, as in he is literally her character’s main inspiration in the films. i’m literally making a fake trailer right now that’s intercut with moments from his DOFP speech that was broadcast to the whole of america.

i love dofp (possibly to my detriment) but i always thought it was weird that no-one was ever like.... magneto has a point. BECAUSE HE HAS A POINT. he’s speaking directly to disenfranchised and SCARED mutants across the nation, and yet everyone’s heralding Mystique as the new face of mutant kind. YES she made a point, but like.... did no-one vibe with magneto when he promised the destruction of mankind? i would. anyways.

so i thought it would be interesting for this character, Cassidy, to have this hero-worship of Magneto, taking his words to heart like scripture, ultimately making her a foil for Phoenix, Xavier’s protege. 

it’s why i specifically included this:

“You should be,” you hissed, putting your all into the words as you spoke them, and you hear Ben inhale sharply beside you, “we shall inherit the Earth.”

“What follows is a struggle as Cassidy and the figure – revealed to be her clone – proceed to kill the man. When they’re finished, and the man’s dead on the ground, Cassidy straightens her outfit, and we hear –“ as the director reads, Michael begins to slowly clap, “a slow clap, and it’s revealed that Apocalypse, as well as Storm, Angel, and Magneto, had all witnessed the event.”

“We are the future, we are the ones who shall inherit the Earth,” Michael reads as he stops clapping.

“Magneto,” you breathe reverentially, and when you look to him, you and Michael share a sharp smile.

which is a direct quote from magneto’s speech in Days of Future Past:

You built these weapons to destroy us. Why? Because you are afraid of our gifts. Because we are different. Humanity has always feared that which is different. Well, I'm here to tell you, to tell the world, you're right to fear us. We are the future. We are the ones who will inherit this earth, and anyone who stands in our way will suffer the same fate as these men you see before you. Today was meant to be a display of your power. Instead I give you a glimpse of the devastation my race can unleash upon yours. Let this be a warning to the world. And to my mutant brothers and sisters out there, I say this; no more hiding, no more suffering. You have lived in the shadows in shame and fear for too long. Come out, join me. Fight together in the brotherhood of our kind. A new tomorrow, that starts today.

which ALSO is what turns her into the next big villain for the franchise, because she sees Magneto, the man she kind of thinks of like a god, turn on and help kill Apocalypse, the man who claimed to be an actual god, and side with the people who, ultimately, don’t want to destroy the human race like she does, and also killed the man she loved. she takes Magneto’s ideologies and turns them up to 11. he fucks off to create a mutant paradise away from prying eyes and is happy, she won’t be happy until all humans are punished.

it’s why, in the beginning, she and raven can’t still work together, because raven wants to rescue mutants, but not at the expense of unnecessary human lives, and cassidy sees all humans as complicit in the torture, and therefore deserving of punishment. 

she has deemed herself judge, jury, and executioner of human kind, and they have all been found guilty.

i’m so excited to see if i get around to writing some of the next film because i really want to explore the dichotomy of Xavier’s ‘no-one is ever really gone/there’s always hope’ and magneto’s ‘you were right to be afraid of us, we are the ones who shall inherit the earth’. Everyone has given up on Cassidy in one way or another, whether it be by betrayal or death, and so when she finds this symbiote who literally becomes a part of her, makes her stronger, and is happy to kill people with little regard for who they are, she’ll take it. 

EDIT: here’s the first 26 seconds of the fake trailer (Y/N here is played by Jurnee Smollett, aka Black Canary from Birds of Prey)

ANGEL & RIOT

i wanted y/n to kiss ben hardy that’s literally it. 

actually no that’s not it 100%, i think it’s super amusing in a kind of bleak way that he got fridged for her, like his death, both in the “””comics””” (as in the comic universe for the fics) and in the film, causes her to seek out a force that would help bring him back to life. in the “””comics””” she originally seeks out a mutant, but when the mutant who can bring people back refuses to help her, she’s told of experiments at The Life Foundation, who are working on engineering the next step in human evolution, and she’s thinking that they’re experimenting on mutants again, like trask, and goes in guns blazing, but instead finds symbiotes. she bonds with a symbiote, thus becoming Riot Control, and the symbiote initially promises her all these things, including being able to find a way to ressurect angel, but eventually (in the “””comics”””) the power he gives her overtakes her need to ressurect her love, and riot ends up using her to try and build a ship to bring more symbiotes to take over earth.

IN THE FILM

okay OKAY okay OKAY so she’s looking for a way to ressurect angel at first, but riot’s in her ear while he’s seeing all her memories, and is convincing her to get revenge on the people who are responsible for his death (nightcrawler, jean, and Magneto specifically) so its not that the xmen are just in the plot by happenstance there’s like actual beef, love it. 

I also love that Cassidy’s powers are handicapped when she’s got Riot, since her scream would injure or even possibly kill him. Yes i specifically paired her with a symbiote for that reason, which is also the reason why her clone explosions aren’t heat based. 

but anyway, can i spoil the ending? i wanna spoil the ending;

so there’s this big showdown between riot control and the xmen, and jean confronts cassidy, trying to talk her down like ‘what would angel think if he saw you? What you’ve become?’ and Cassidy’s furious, thinking that jean’s trying to guilt her, like, angel would be so ashamed

“Keep his name out of your fucking mouth, you have no idea what he’d think-”

“He’d be terrified of you.” And it’s so fucking like, cruel and cold coming from Jean.

“Shut up.”

“You have become a monster; you have maimed your idol-” [we cut to a shot of magneto looking all fucked up and bloody, watching with anger in his eyes] “and you have left Angel for dead. If you’d really cared about him, you would have already gotten him back. Instead, you come for revenge against the people who could have helped you -”

or something like that, and riot control has a whole breakdown, lashing out, snarling that no-one could help her, and when they tried, they ended up dead (angel, apocalypse) and she starts losing control, and her voice starts to distort in and out of riot’s, making it clear he’s taking control of her completely. 

there’s this big, final fight, which culminates with jean grabbing cassidy’s face and trying to burn riot out of her.

“No-one is beyond help.” And Jean’s like, got tears in her eyes, desperate to save this girl who’s caused so much pain, but who sees herself as so wretched and beyond help, and we see the symbiote burning away and screaming, but also the physical signs of cassidy’s mutation as like, peeling away in embers, like the black scales around her eyes, and the way her whole eyes are seen as black is now clearing away, and she takes both of Jean’s hands and forces her to keep holding on, to keep looking in her natural fucking eyes for the first and last time as she burns out too.

“You can’t save everyone.” and then Cassidy’s just ash in the wind.

also this ending, in a meta-sense, makes sense, because after this Disney buys Fox and there’s no more this-universe X-Men films, so they had to do a self-contained story, there couldn’t be things left super unresolved.

OR maybe she’s fine, maybe she gets saved and riot burns out of her (spoilers, he fucks off and doesn’t die, hence, Venom (2018); it takes him about 20 years to recuperate) i haven’t decided.

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

Time for The Witcher episode 4!!

So the last episode was Intense(TM) and also I finally realized that the show isn’t happening all at the same time but it’s following multiple timelines, which, better late than never. Now things make more sense...

Alright, bando alle ciance and let’s do this.

“Ciri! Ciri” Cirilla: yes? “Not you, I was talking to Siri. What’s the weather going to be tomorrow”

That’s such a stupid joke. Unfollow me right now, it’s okay.

Glowy Forest Intensifies... oh, there’s people now. Forest Dora Milaje aren’t happy to see her, which is understandable, I guess. But the boss arrives.

Meanwhile, except not meanwhile, a man has had a very bad day. Apparently the nickname White Wolf has stuck. Remember when we thought the MCU was going to make Bucky into a Black Panther character as the White Wolf, official media outlet even used the White Wolf as a title for Bucky, and then it ended up in nothing? Sorry for the digression but I really hoped we’d get Bucky written by Ryan Coogler and I was really disappointed when that didn’t happen but *waves around* all of that happened instead. I mean, technically it’s not too late to make it happen but Bucky is a Disney+ creature now, so, bye.

Hello Jaskier! My boy! I missed you.

Ah, the new media image campaign is working. 

“You never get involved, except you actually do, all of the time” I love this XD “I don’t do emotions or attachments” character who does emotions intensely all the time and gets attached to everyone they meet paired with “sure Jan” character who calls them out is a very good dynamic.

Ah, yes, this is perfect. I’m sorry but dark brooding protagonist and bubbly comic relief sidekick is my secret weakness.

No offense, Geralt, but those clothes did need a good washing after your latest job, so don’t make that face.

Blah blah royal affairs I should probably pay attention to.

“I am not going to protect you” [*Spongebob font* five minutes later...]

But yeah, the princess is Cirilla’s mother, I suppose, and I’m sure the marriage that produces Scream Princess is super important. She is very pretty and has lovely hair. Sometimes I wish I had long hair I could braid artistically.

The princess doesn’t want to get married to some strange dude, but the queen is A Very Strong Woman(TM) and has no time for silly things like her daughter’s feelings over the most life-changing decision in her life. She’s an interesting character for sure, and the narrative doesn’t try to frame her as either definitely good or bad, which is interesting.

Oh! Rat Boy isn’t dead! That’s great. That makes sense narratively, native forest women who suffered genocide from colonizers wouldn’t kill an elf boy who went through the same thing.

Promised husband is a shitty dude. Queen Calanthe likes Geralt, which, relatable. But she and her entourage are racist assholes, and the next scene with Cirilla and Dara tell us that their anti-elf talk isn’t just talk.

By the way, now we know for sure how much time there is between Geralt’s timeline and Cirilla’s.

The queen doesn’t like feminine dresses. Lady is trying to overcompensate a lot. But her banter with Geralt is entertaining.

The first suitor is from Nilfgaard, and in hindsight it would have been a wise choice to unify the two kingdoms... C’mon, poor guy is just awkward, he doesn’t deserve the humiliation. Or is he the guy who’ll make war later? The pilot threw too much new information at me the other day.

Yennefer is bored... and apparently 30 years has passed since the last we saw of her. (I refuse to try to understand when in relation to the other plots that puts this scene. Things will click together at some point or I’ll just accept whatever happens and nod along.) And coincidentally she is paired with a woman who laments being only considered important as a baby-producing womb. Oops. Awkward.

Not relevant to the show but my parents never get inside my room as often as while I am watching something on Netflix.

Yennefer thinks life as a court mage sucks, queen Kalis thinks life as a baby-maker sucks. They envy each other for what the other has, but they’re probably both right.

Well, boredom is no longer a problem.

Oh, poor queen, her husband paid to have her killed because she’s only given him daughters. Two episodes in a row about female heirs to kings, plus queen Calanthe being female and having a daughter who’ll have a daughter. Theeemes!

You can’t be rude to the only person who is your only hope not to die horribly, girl.

Queen Calanthe is frustrated she isn’t a man, which we could guess. She also likes the simplicity of killing, which we could also guess.

Oh! It’s almost pre-decided husband’s time to claim the girl’s hand in marriage, but New Guy appears! He’s been cursed and Mr I Don’t Pick Sides Ever No Matter What, guess what, picks a side. The audience is shocked. No one could foresee this unexpected turn of events.

Noooo the baby!!! Yennefer loses a rare chance to acquire a baby. This is sad. Damn this show doesn’t shy away from killing children, such a different feel from most stories we’re used to.

These people are weird with destiny. Calanthe says fuck destiny, Geralt says lol mood but just because you’re a queen doesn’t mean you’re above sacred rules.

OOOOH Calanthe says fuck sacred rules and it does not go well. Is this happening because she tried to mess up with the order of the world and chaos said hi? Was the princess always magical or did this happen because destiny will have its way no matter what?

Ah, her grandmother had it, she never manifested it before until now, when circumstances awoke it.

Queen Calanthe acknowledges destiny, and of course they’re all dressed in green like the mages of Feminist Hogwarts aka Chaos School. I should have paid more attention to colors but green seems to be the color of magic slash chaos slash destiny.

Then bam, red. Men. Violence.

Everyone in the forest is also dressed in green... Colors aren’t really my thing, you might have noticed that I rarely analyze colors in Supernatural and I’m not particularly into what which color means and I only notice things when they’re very obvious like the purple of transformation-slash-death, so, yeah, I am not the kind of person who notices colors until they slap me in the face. I guess this is my slap in the face by this show’s color palette XD

Also consider that I watch everything with f-lux on, so I don’t even see colors the way they actually look, I guess that’s why it’s harder for me to notice colors when everything looks orange.

Alriiiiight *disables f.lux for current app*

Oh. Oh. So this is how this show looks like.

Awkward. This is so embarrassing.

I should rewatch the whole thing with real colors now... well, another time.

Anyway, Dara has drunk antidepressant juice, but it doesn’t work on Ciri, because she is Relevant(TM) to destiny so she can’t forget her past otherwise the plot destiny can’t happen.

Sleep well baby.

Aaah husband’s curse is broken! Yay.

Geralt accidentally acquires a bond with a baby. One baby dead and Yennefer’s potential bond with her lost, one baby on her way and Geralt’s future bond with her created. So this is all about parallels based on babies and births. Cool.

In the future, destiny has arrived and indeed wrought calamity on the court and the city. Someone makes something gross with Calanthe’s dead body--a spell to learn the location of Cirilla. Trouble is coming.

Oh! It’s him, he’s not dead? And taking something from Calanthe (that will be relevant later)?

Ciri drinks stronger juice and goes to the ancestral plane, er, I mean has a vision of a Very Important Tree, sorry I had Black Panther stuck in my head from before.

Well this is very interesting and things are starting to click together and yeah it’s a weird ride but I’m enjoying it! I suppose only at the end of the season you get the full picture of why and when everything has happened so I’m just sitting here metaphorically eating popcorn waiting for things to make sense on their own rhythm. There’s a theme of motherhood and babies and it seems that Geralt’s destiny is to become a metaphorical mother for Cirilla? Or am I mixing him up with a similar kind of character with a tendency to become everyone’s mom? Anyway, I’m looking forward to see what happens.

[nightofnyx8]

Fearless

I sat down to write about a month ago and this story kind of came out. I’ve always liked the dynamic Beast Boy and Raven have, especially because they are polar opposites. But because I’m a sucker for seeing how couples complement each other, a little oneshot for them made me happy. I hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think!

************************************

Red.

Violent, unforgiving red.

The very color that connected her to the unholy demon that had brought her into existence.

It filled her mind quickly. Rage. Panic. Terror.

She saw him, his one slitted eye mocking her through his orange and black mask. 

“This is it, Raven.” He taunted. “This is what you were born to do.”

And then she saw their faces, crying out to her, begging her to save them. Lead filled her limbs and the ground opened up beneath her feet. She screamed as she fell into the black abyss, the sound of her father’s merciless laughter waiting for her below.

Down.

Down.

Gone.

 ********************************************

“NO!”

Rachel bolted upright, clutching at the sheets for support. The blurred edges around her vision sharpened as she realized where she was.

The moonlight shed a soft beam into the bedroom, illuminating the dresser against the wall. The faded wallpaper was barely visible between the crowded picture frames. Her husband snored softly beside her.

Just another nightmare.

Rachel sighed, gathering her sweaty, plastered hair up into a ponytail. This was getting old. At least she hadn’t woken up Gar. The one good thing about her sleep-like-a-rock husband was that she could make all the noise in the world and he would still be snoring peacefully, not a care in the world. Sometimes she envied him for that.

Her sight rested upon the old beaten up alarm clock that sat on the bedside table. The numbers 3:38 AM glared at her in a blocky, sinister red.

The exact shade as her father.

Exasperated, she slid out of bed and walked into the kitchen. Maybe some tea would calm her down a little, and perhaps a good book to lull her back to sleep. She just couldn’t ignore the pounding voices in her head that reached every inch of her.

They were in danger. They were all in terrible danger.

But that was unreasonable. They had just visited Dick and Kory yesterday to help them move into their new house, and Victor started his new job last week. Everything was perfectly normal. There was absolutely no reason to freak out over nothing.

But is this really nothing? Her mind whispered softly. What if you’re the only one who can save them?

Rachel suppressed the thought and she wandered through the cluttered kitchen looking for her tea boxes. Gar’s organization skills left a little to be desired, and so whenever it was his turn to clean the kitchen everything sort of became more chaotic than it had been before. She finally found a nice lemon flavor and set some water to boil.

Danger. The voice warned.

Herbal Tea. Rachel countered back.

She left the stove to search a bookshelf nearby. You could always find a book whenever you needed in the cozy home she shared with Gar. There were books on the dining table, next to the couches, hiding the countertops, and even in the bathroom. Her Shakespeare was often mixed in with Gar’s comics, so every pile provided an interesting selection depending on what you were in the mood for. At first, it had annoyed Rachel how cluttered everything felt, but over the years she had grown more comfortable as she now just felt the familiar sense of home. Her house had an order, even if no one else but she and Gar understood it.

She ran her finger along the spines of a couple of old hardbacks, anticipating the stories that they held between their pages. The Castle of Otranto? Or perhaps a fantasy, like Inkheart. She decided finally upon a dystopian novel when she heard the tea kettle whistle and hurried to turn the heat down. She had just taken it off the stove when she heard footsteps behind her.

“Awake at this hour, Rae?” Gar’s voice sounded groggy and sleepy. “This is the third night in a row.”

Apparently, he could be awoken from time to time.

“I just can’t sleep Gar.” She replied simply. “The voices are getting stronger.”

Anyone who didn’t know Rachel would have thought this sentence to be strange, but it hadn’t phased Gar since he had met her so many years ago in Jump City.

“What are they saying this time?” He inquired. He went to the fridge and drank his almond milk straight from the carton.

“The same. Their faces keep showing up in my dreams, and everyone keeps ending up dead.”

“But everything’s fine, Rae,” Gar said. “We’re all fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I know, it’s just…it won’t stop.”

Garfield smiled. “I think all these books are finally getting to your head. Come on, let’s go back to bed, I’ll be right beside you.”

Rachel signed. “Maybe you’re right.” She said. “Just let me enjoy some tea and I’ll be up in a moment.”

Gar grinned and turned to exit the kitchen. “Don’t keep me waiting too long. We’ll go visit everyone again tomorrow when—” He stopped suddenly as the sound of something breaking startled him. He spun around to see Rachel on the floor, clutching her head in her hands, the shattered pieces the tea kettle spilling hot water onto the floor.

“Rachel!” He rushed forward and grabbed her. “What’s wrong?!”

She could feel her eyes glowing with power as her body stretched unnaturally. Then she crunched back into a ball as something seared from within, torturing her.

“Rachel, please! Come back to me!” Gar’s pleadings finally drew his wife out of her trance and the power inside ceased attacking her.

“Rae?”

Gar held her in his arms and tried to warm her clammy body. She was shaking, pale and sweaty. Suddenly she grabbed hold of his arm and looked up at him with frightened eyes.

“Garfield.” She whispered hoarsely. “They won’t s-stop! They won’t stop!”

“Shhh.” He pushed back the loose hair from her face and kissed her forehead. “It’s alright. I’m here, Rachel. I’m right here.”

He held her tightly, trying to soothe her shaking, ragged breaths. Rachel hated feeling this way, so…not in control. She hated even more that Gar had to see her that way. She knew how to control her fear, she knew how to level her mind.

So why wasn’t this time the same?

She could still see them every time she closed her eyes, their expressions seared into her mind. Dick, Kory, Victor, Garfield, all crying out on the ground, slowly fading until she was the only one left. What was happening to her?

She had become so lost in her thoughts that when Gar spoke she nearly jumped out of his arms.

“Do you still remember that movie we watched in the tower?” His voice sounded so far away, sliding its way through the cracks in her mind.

“What?”

“The horror movie. And you kept insisted that you’re weren’t scared until your emotions found another way out? And how they didn’t go away until you admitted your fear?”

“Yes…” She paused. How was this relevant?

“Well,” He caressed her hair between his fingers. “Maybe you’re scared of something now, and so your dreams are manifesting your fear. Maybe all this has something to do with, you know, Slade.”

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut again. That undead monster had given the Titans a right good scare a week ago, when he had suddenly appeared in Bludhaven, ten years after since the last time they saw him. He had said nothing, did nothing, only watched them from the news station tower. Dick had been searching for clues ever since, going through old piles of evidence, even searching the old tower in Jump City. Victor said it was nothing to worry about now, but Rachel wasn’t so sure. She could still feel his iron hands clamped around her arms, forcing her to face the destiny she never wanted. His voice taunted her in her mediations, his masked face blurring into that of Trigons’. She was used to criminals whose agendas were simple and easy to expose. But she had never quite forgotten the mercenary who had gotten so deep inside her head.

“Victor said we couldn’t do anything right now, and there’s no reason to—"

“Rachel, it’s okay to be scared.”

She looked at him, his green eyes speaking a thousand words that she could somehow understand. She reached out and cupped her hand to his cheek, feeling his warmth spread through her fingers.

“I just can’t lose you, Gar. Any of you.”

He slipped his own hand over hers, bringing her fingers down to his lips. “I know, Rachel, I know. But I can’t lose you either. I can’t lose you…to yourself. Slade always messes with our minds. Don’t you remember what he did to Dick with just a little bit of dust?”

She shivered, not wanting to recall the horrifying mirages that had haunted the Boy Wonder’s head after he had been exposed to some hallucinating substance off of Slade’s mask.

“Don’t give him another second of your time. Don’t give him that satisfaction. If he wants to fight, then we’ll fight. But we’re done playing games with him.”

It took some time, but she could begin to see some sense in what Gar was saying. Slade was a madman yes, and his methods were never quite clear. But they had learned from experience that the more they tried to expose his plans, the worse off they became in the end. No, the best defense right now was to get a grip on what was real, and what was not.

She felt a small smile tug on her lips. No matter how much he drove her up the wall with his antics, her Garfield always had a knack for saying just the right thing when you needed it the most.

“Of course, if he really wants to play games, we could just invite him over to play Mega Monkeys 3. Vic and I would kick his butt through the roof.”

Rachel scowled. “We’re having a moment.”

“And I am joyfully ruining it.” He said playfully, pulling her into a kiss that made her forget whatever retort she was about to give him. “Come one, no use crying over spilled tea. Let’s get you back to bed.”

After a few more minutes of his lame jokes and gentle kisses he goaded from her, they both found themselves back in the bed she so wanted to escape from an hour ago. Gar propped himself up on his elbow to face her.

“We can call Kory tomorrow and see if that Hobbit she likes has found anything on Slade. Besides, you know you need your Mar’i fix.”

“Don’t you mean yourself?”

He smirked. “You know you need it, even if you won’t admit it. Everyone knows Auntie Raven is her favorite!”

She groaned and he laughed, driving away the darkness. He turned off the lamp on the nightstand and pulled the covers up to block the cold wintry air. She felt his fingers stroke her cheek, his face soft and assuring in the veiled moonlight.

For a moment, she thought he was going to say something profound, just as the achingly tragic characters in her books often said to their lovers.

Instead, the corners of his lips turned upward in a knowing smirk.  

“And if that creep shows up in your dreams again, you tell him to come after moi. Nothing’s getting through this Beastly Man.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Idiot. Just shut up and hold me.”

He chuckled quietly, nestling her between his arms. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, feeling the constant beating of his heart.

And for the first time in three days, her sleep became dreamless.  

[absentauthor]

Halloween Homebody: Part 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Just when you think your Halloween can't get any worse, Bucky shows up at your door. . .drunk on Asgardian mead. This was gonna be one hell of a hangover.

Warnings: A lil’ angsty, a lil’ fluffy. Drunk Bucky (I don’t know if that’s a real warning, but I’ll put it). Some making out (nothing really smutty).

Words: 2000+

Part 1

You weren't one of those people who got tired when they were sad. You wished you were, sleeping it off was oh-so tempting, but you were wired.

Already back in your pajamas and finishing off Halloween (after Jennifer's Body and As Above/So Below), you felt like you were going over where you went wrong over and over. You had misread a signal. . .but where?

You felt like you were going over every interaction you and Bucky had ever had with a fine tooth comb.

It was keeping you up. You decided movies weren't going to lull you to asleep as thoroughly in your current state. You opted instead to curl up with your worn copy of Coraline and try to pretend that the pages weren't tear-stained.

That was when a knock came on your door.

Obviously, you were a little wary. Doors and Coraline will do that to a person, but you stood to answer it anyway.

Rubbing your now makeup-free, tear-streaked cheeks, you opened the door.

Only to find yourself face to face with the person you'd like to see less than the Other Mother at the moment; Bucky Barnes.

"Hiya, doll!"

Still in the army uniform, only more disshelved, he was glassy-eyed, sporting his supposedly long-lost Brooklyn accent and a little bit of a sway in his walk as he stepped passed you. Leaving you with only one logical conclusion.

"Are you drunk?" You asked, dumbfounded. 

Super-soldiers were supposed to be immune to alcohol. They could get buzzed, but not drunk. Steve always joked about it. Although, having a grinning Bucky standing in front of you, messy haired and bouncing, you were starting to believe there was an exception to the rule.

You asked again, "Bucky, are you drunk?"

"No! No! No!" He stated, shaking his head with each word.

"Why'd you say it three times?"

"Because there are currently three of you and I didn't want one feeling left out."

Oh, definitely an exception to the rule.

He plopped down on the edge of your bed, kicking his feet up childishly.

"Thor had this drink, right. And it was sooo good. So, so good. I just kept drinkin' it."

You pinched the space between your eyebrows. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Kidding! I'm not kidding. Unless you want to be kidding, than doll we can kid as much as you want," he said with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows and a little self-satisfied chuckle.

Your jaw dropped and you were certain your cheeks were warm. Damn it, that shouldn't be cute!

"Was that meant to be a euphemism?"

"Euph...a...euph-a-what?"

His look of confusion was too cute for you to describe.

You sighed. Your night had taken yet another turn. You couldn't just kick him out. He was still your friend. It wasn't his fault you had changed your mindset, begun to see him in a different light. He saw you as a friend and he had come to you when he needed help. You couldn't abandon him on his time of need.

"Take off that uniform, Sarge."

His grin was in megawatt territory as he clumsily began unbuttoning buttons and unzippering zippers.

"Yes, ma'am!"

You buried your face in you hands, "Underwear and undershirt stay on, Lothario!"

His pout is nothing short of a petulant child. 

Jesus, you were screwed. Your night had definitely taken a turn for the unknown. Good or bad, who knew in the Twilight Zone? At least you still had jokes. Mostly.

___

Bucky was a talkative, energetic drunk. It had taken about an hour to get him into your bed. And yes, that sounded dirty, but it wasn't.

Because there's really nothing dirty about a tossing and turning Bucky, shaking your bed every two seconds trying to get comfortable while you're trying to read.

"Bucky, stop moving."

He huffed, stilling beside you and taking to staring at you while you read. You could feel his eyes on you, even with your trained on the page in front of you. You tried to ignore the warmth you felt with his gaze on you, but it was near impossible. You slammed your book shut.

"Bucky, stop staring!"

That made him laugh. Then hiccup. Damn, how could one be a cute drunk?

"But doll, I just wanna look at ya. You're so damn gorgeous, I can't help myself." Apparently, Drunk Bucky giggles like a kid when he's adamant.

You frown. He couldn't have meant that and you couldn't shut him down completely. He wasn't all there. He couldn't be responsible for what he said. Even if it made your heart want to beat out of your chest.

"Go to sleep," you said, more gruffly than you intended to.

"Did I upset you?" He asked naively, tone rising involuntarily. "I did. I'm a clingy drunken lug, aren't I? I made ya mad!"

He smacks a palm to his forehead and it's almost comical. You can't stay. . .whatever you were before there was a drunken dork in your bed.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ruined your Halloween," he almost blubbered, hand still over his face.

"Bucky, stop. You didn't ruin my night."

You unintentionally hurt my feelings, because I read more into an invitation you probably meant in friendship and arrived to see you kissing another girl. But you didn't ruin my night.

"You just wanted to stay home and I was pushin' you to go out and you didn't want to. And I was dumb enough to drown my sorrows about it and try to be nice like you and end up getting slobbered on by this girl. . ."

"Slobbered on?"

That didn't exactly sound like a passionate makeout.

"I think she meant to plant one on me, but she just kinda drooled and it was gross and I just drank more after that."

Oh, no.

"Well, that wasn't responsible."

You weren't sure how respond when you knew what was coming. You didn't want to know what Bucky and frilly-maid girl got up to, but it looked like you were going to get a crash course.

Then, a surprise. "I didn't wanna kiss 'er. She didn't really wanna kiss me either. She was just hurtin'."

"Sounds like you two had quite the rapport."

"No, we just talked. You know I don't like that rapping stuff."

Oh, naive and drunk Bucky. He stressed you out and made you laugh all without even trying. Especially when he rambled. It was so uncharacteristic of the usual Bucky, who was usually so quiet and humble and often listening to you ramble.

This was a nice change, even if he was about to tell you about his makeout session with a drooling girl.

"She was upset. She got stood up. She was crying. I didn't know what to do." And the surprises just kept coming. "So, I asked myself what you would do."

Your surprise couldn't have been subtle. You probably looked like a puppy, cocking your head to the side in a questioning look. "You did?"

"Uh-huh. And I bought her her drink and listened to her when she talked. Cuz you're real good at listenin' and she needed someone to and all she had was me."

You stayed quiet; it was all you could think to do.

“And she took it the wrong way and just...kissed me. I pushed her off and told her that I had you. Well, wanted you. She got mad. But I-I didn’t wanna kiss her, I wanted to kiss you.”

The tears came unwarranted. Maybe it was the overflow of emotions from earlier, or the manifestation of newer and happier ones, but soon enough you were sniffling once again, wiping the tears away and trying to keep quiet about it. It was no use. Even drunk, Bucky noticed.

"Are ya cryin'?" His voice was a groggy sort of panic you'd never heard. "Doll, please don't cry! You shouldn't cry ever!"

He reached for you, clumsily clutching your face in his large hands. You couldn't help but smile. It was watery and probably pretty ugly, but Bucky smiled that warm, dopey smile back at you anyway.

"You're the best. My best girl! I wanna be around you all the time. Wanna make ya laugh, hold your hand. . .kiss your pretty lookin' lips."

No matter how tempting it was, you knew the latter couldn't become a reality in that particular moment. Even if Bucky was closer, breathing your air, glancing down at your lips. He was of impaired judgement, not of sober mind.

With a steady breath, you pushed a hand against his chest, laying him back against your bed. He followed the pressure of your hand, resting back against the pillow again.

"Go to sleep, Bucky." You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "If you mean it tomorrow, you can plant one on me and I promise I won't slobber on you. Okay?"

"I'll still mean it tomorrow, doll." He chuckled, a smile still on his face as his eyes fell closed. "Happy Halloween."

He stayed facing you and you didn't turn away when you laid beside him.

"Happy Halloween, you drunken lug."

You drifted off into a comfortable, dreamless sleep.

___

The next morning, you woke up earlier to make sure you had sole control over the coffee maker. You left a snoring Bucky in your bed, pretending he wasn't the most entrancing person you'd ever had in your bed.

Coffee. A more cohesive focus, even in the wake of a night like the one before.

You tried to keep your expectations low, not let your imagination run wild. You always had your disappointing endings to Halloween and you were almost certain this one would make the list. Bucky was drunk. He probably wouldn't even remember everything that happened, much less what he said to you. 

It didn't take long for you to head the telltale pad of footsteps and you pretended that your heart had taken up residence in your throat. You didn't even know if it was him and you were almost gasping.

But then, Bucky was there. Complete with bedhead and furrowed brows, a picture of sleepy-eyed determination.

"Well, you look alive," you said nonchalantly, placing down your coffee mug. "No hangover?"

Your answer was a kiss.

He walked towards you with an air of a man on a mission and you felt like your mind was on delay. You had been caught up in some type of mental haze and soon enough Bucky's lips were on yours.

You could feel your eyes widen for a moment before you closed them, pressing into the kiss.It made your heart pound, your stomach flutter, and your lungs feel empty all at once.

When he pulled you closer at the waist and deepened the kiss, you were still having trouble remembering how normal people breathe. Not that you really cared too much. 

He pulled away. You didn't want him to, even though you were half-sure either your chest would collapse from lack of oxygen if you two continued.

"You kissed me," you managed, a little breathless. 

"Told you I'd still mean it in the morning, didn't I?"

He grin was infectious and you never guessed you'd get to taste his smile, but soon enough it was pressed against yours.

This kiss was more intense than the first and you couldn't help your gasp, nor your embarrassingly quick reaction time. You pressed into it, threading your hands through his hair.

You tugged a little on it when he gripped the back of your thighs, earning a soft groan as he lifted you onto the kitchen counter. You linked you ankles behind his back, pulling him close and kissing him back as intensely as he was kissing you. You were breathless, even light-headed, but you were also sure that you could kiss Bucky like that for the rest of your life and die happy.

He pulled away, damn him, resting his forehead against yours. 

"Be my girl, doll. Go on a date with me. No group things, no parties. Just you and me."

"Kiss me like that Barnes and you can take me anywhere," you laughed, brushing his hair back from his face.

He quirked an eyebrow.

"Even a Halloween party?"

You rolled your eyes, leaning in closer to him.

"Ask me next year,” you said softly, lips brushing over Bucky’s.

"I'll hold you to it."

All seemed to be right with the world. . .until Sam happened into the kitchen.

You pulled away from a reluctant Bucky, almost laughing when you spotted the

Part stunned and part annoyed, Sam walked over to the batch of cookies you'd left on the counter. He scooped up the tray without a word, staring you straight in the eye.

"Let me have the tray and I won't tell you why it's ten times of wrong that you’re mackin' on Barnes where we break bread!”

___

A/N: I was super surprised that so many of you liked Halloween Homebody! I based it loosely off my own Halloween experiences the past couple years and I was just really surprised so many people liked it. Writing part 2 was a lot of fun! Drunk Bucky was a bit of a delight to write, honestly. Feedback is always appreciated and I am gonna open my inbox up to requests for oneshots or drabbles, if anyone wants me to write something for them! Thanks so much for reading and Happy belated Halloween!

Disclaimer: I do not own any character that is a part of the MCU or Marvel universe.

Taglist: @stardustsoldierrook @lovely-geek @crazyminnesotagirl @karla-silva

[thunder-birb]

The 5 times Tamaki accidentally confessed to Mirio and the one time he didn’t have to

Mini Series Part II 

2.

“Tamaki! Hey! I hope you don’t mind me joining you” The familiar weight of Mirio, nudging against my shoulder for the briefest of moments and then preceding to scoot a few inches away from me to give me some space; is one of the nicest, most unassuming gestures anyone has done for me. Most people like my parents, sister and even some of our teachers presume that they know exactly what I need when I’m feeling clammed up or nervous. However, that usually takes a turn for the worse and the guilt of making everyone worry about me always elevates my anxiety.

That’s why most people have resigned to not doing anything at all. And in most circumstances, I would actually prefer this method, but there are those moments in which being alone is the worse possible decision I have ever made in my life. Because then, nothing hinders my mind from spiralling into a poisonous cycle of crippling vitriolic thoughts.

Enter Mirio Togata. He has witnessed a fair share of my anxiety spells and usually lets the ‘capable adults’ deal with it. However, when it is just the two of us, Mirio has the brightest idea of all and simply asks me what I need. No one and I mean no one, has ever done that approach and through many incidents, I learned, just as much as Mirio, that I actually don’t like being by myself when it happens.

It still doesn’t mean I also want to be enveloped with attention either. That just makes me feel suffocated, cornered and incapable of handling my own emotions. So, Mirio does what he does best and just stays by me instead. He lays on the grass when we’re outside at the park or watches Television when we’re sitting in his couch or continues to read his favorite comic; ready to talk about it if I need to or not say anything at all.

He gives me the space I need to pull myself together again and does not try to fix what isn’t his to solve.

Today is one of those days and surely enough Mirio is laying on the grass next to me by the soccer field, his school jacket bunched up together as his makeshift pillow with pocky in his mouth and a new manga volume he’s been dying to read. He’s really into his manga that he doesn’t even notice me watching him; observing how he’s almost finished his first box of pocky all by himself. Or how he’s been tapping his white sneakers to the beat of another one of his favorite rock ballads. Sometimes he even starts humming absentmindedly, but I get too nervous to ask him what he’s actually singing in case it embarrasses him and I’ll never hear him humm again.

“Hey, you’re back. Everything alright?” He stops tapping his foot and drops the manga to his chest. Then, he places his hands behind his head and turns to peer at me, blue button eyes shining in the sunlight reflecting the ocean-like hues of the sky above.

“Yeah… It’s just-- Everyone always expects something from me. The teachers, the students, my parents and I can never give them what they want. I can’t even manifest anything more than a lousy bud, but they still want more just because I lucked out and got a really ‘cool quirk.’ Too bad I’m terrible at everything I do and-- ” I start to explain, but the feelings of disappointment and frustration begin to flood my consciousness and I just don’t want to go back to the gym with everyone’s eyes on me.

I shake my head and tightly shut my eyes, trying not to think about how I could not for the life of me do anything worthy of my quirk. Not with everyone watching, eyes heavy with anticipation, making me short of breath and prickling with nerves that I know I’m visibly shaking.

Just Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. In.

And that’s when he starts singing. No longer only to himself.

“Here are days where things don’t go well

But even in the scarce light filtering through the leaves

I can still feel the same sun

Even if it’s a dream where I’m covered in snow

I will keep going your way

I believe I will go walking this road

So as not to lose my way”

It’s almost a crime that Mirio can actually belt a note without sounding like a seal. I already can’t see his flaws as flaws, but silly attributes or even as quirks before that became the national term for our mutations. So naturally, everything good about him unsettles every fiber of my body, but in a crazy good way. Too good that I feel like I might throw up sometimes.

“Oh man! Sorry you had to hear that!” He laughs, the rich kind that’s a little exaggerated at the end to show he’s starting to get self-conscious. “I was only gonna sing a line or two, but that song just really gets me going you know? And I figure maybe it can help you, too” Mirio pinks a little bit, which does further damage to my Broca area that I could no longer speak or look at him without physically hurting from his brightness.

“That bad huh? I’m sorry Tamaki! As a hero I will do everyone’s ears a favor and never sing again!” he laughs, self-awareness out the window and resigns to looking up at the sky.

☀️☀️☀️

I don’t know exactly how many minutes we spend laying in complete silence, watching the cottony clouds take form and float by like strangers in passing at the crosswalk, but it settles the last bits of my nerves. Mirio proceeds to point out really rad looking cloud shapes, and swears one even looks like a bowl of ramen. I chuckle not seeing it at all, but Mirio insists and surely enough so does his stomach as it growls particularly loud and hangry.

We turn our heads at the same time and laugh so hard my cheeks starts to hurt. I try to avoid Mirio’s face because now both my stomach and cheek muscles are starting to tighten, but it’s so hard to resist looking when he’s smiling so vividly that his ears are turning pink. In an attempt to stop, he gets up, but somehow trips on the way up and falls on his bum.

We laugh even harder and now I really have to stop. My face is turning red from straining itself and the pain is getting unbearable, so I start doing the breathing exercises my sister advises I practice. I am so caught up in centering myself, I don’t notice Mirio get up, put his jacket back on, throw his trash in the bin and stash his manga back in his duffel bag. He has his hand out for me by the time I open my eyes and I gulp down the nerves attempting to choke me up. Wow his face is real close and ears still a little rosy.

“C’mon Tamaki! Let’s get some food!” He suggests and I nod, shying away from his gaze as he kindly pulls me up. I bite down on my lip, trying to gain some control of myself and we head to the night market Mirio frequents.

The smell of beef, barbeque, and fried seafood of every kind has us salivating and we make quick steps towards his favorite stand. The old man greets us with his signature smile and Mirio makes small talk as he does with everyone. After ordering, we sit at our usual spot at the far right end of the stall and start devouring our noodles the moment the Ojichan hands it to us.

We finish our food quickly as if we have not eaten the whole day and by the time we clean our bowl, I feel so full, so happy and like I can do anything.

“Hey Mirio, watch this!” I call his attention and manifest my left arm into the noodles we just ate. It’s stupid and spontaneous and I don’t even really think it’ll work, but Mirio’s jaw drops so low I immediately howl with laughter with my noodle arm (it really worked!) smacking the table. Mirio almost slides off his chair from laughing too much as I continue to flail my noodle arms around. But, eventually everyone starts noticing and we huddle closer in secret. It can’t stop us from playing around too much though and ultimately we are escorted out as usual because we are starting to bother the obachans.

🐙🐙🐙

The walk home feels light and the incident earlier today feels so far away and minor when usually I spend the rest of the time replaying the worst bits of it. But not tonight and we fall into step, strolling through the familiar streets, while Mirio starts humming again. I listen to the melody and realize that it’s definitely the ballad he sang earlier. I get lost in it, crossing the roads in routine that I don’t notice we’re standing in front of my house and how he’s stopped humming for some time now.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow Tamaki! Goodnight~” Mirio waits until I look at him, then squeezes my shoulder and smiles in that way that he does that I couldn’t help the small groan that escapes my throat.

“Goodnight Mirio! Get home safely” I mumble, opening the gate and hurrying through, but then I stop in my tracks and go back outside. It just wouldn’t be right not to tell him. “Mirio wait--” I yell, hoping he isn’t too far away and then he turns his head to look at me.

“Did you forget--”

“You have a great voice!” I yell back trying to hold on to the sudden burst of bravery subduing my innately antsy nature. 

“I mean everything you do is pretty much incredible-” No. Did I just say that out loud?? Crap damage control say something anythingggg “--and uh---I-- I know you’ll master your quirk soon enough too!” word vomit once again takes over me and I’m so freaking nervous after saying that out loud baka baka baka that I keep my head down, shaking worst than earlier. This was a mistake.

“Tamaki, you really overestimate me!” he says back and I slowly lift my head, stopping just below his mouth. “But I always appreciate your kind words of encouragement and if anyone was awesome today, it would be you Noodle Arms! Now that’s cool!” Mirio wiggles his arms around in demonstration even crouching a little so, I see it in my line of vision. Then, soon enough I can’t help, but smile at him and his permeating warmth and enigmatic way of uplifting any bad situation like a real pro hero.

“Say hello to your family for me!” He waves one last time and then turns back to cross the street. I watch him until I can no longer see the blonde hair from afar, just soaking up all the brightness now that it’s at a safe distance from me.

“Tamaki! What did I say about hanging around outside at this time of the night?” my okaasan yells from the front door and I quickly make my way inside. “You know you could just invite him over if you don’t wanna say bye just yet” My mom suggests and I squeak, run past her and head straight to my room.

“Tamaki wait! You have to eat---” was the last I heard before I blast my music, wrap my body in all of my blankets and fall fast asleep from the warmth of the day.

Part 1 of 5

And here is Part II! Thanks to all who have read and liked the story. It really means a lot to me and if anyone is wondering, the song Mirio sang is Yume no Tsubomi by Remioromen (which is the band his Hero name partly came from, if I’m not mistaken). Thanks again and I hope you enjoy this just as much as the first part ^^

[firehawk12]

Crazy Rich Asians (2018): The Flawed But Necessary Asian-American Cultural Milestone

(Apologies!  I keep forgetting to update my Tumblr... repost from my Medium account)

There is so much to unpack before you can even talk about Crazy Rich Asiansin any meaningful manner and understand why so much of the Asian-American community has gotten behind the film via the so-called #goldopenmovement.

I think the easiest way to begin is to imagine what life would be like if you had no sense of belonging within the culture you inhabit. Books, music, television, film, theater, fashion — none of it reflected who you are and how you were necessarily different from everyone else. For the last half-century, this is essentially how Asian-Americans (and by extension, Asians-Canadians) lived their lives.

I can only write on my behalf, but I knew at an early age that I would never really be considered a “Canadian”, because as much as we like to pretend we’re in some kind of post-race multicultural utopia, I still feel foreign despite having lived in Canada for essentially my entire life.

But obviously that’s not necessarily unique to my experience — certainly a lot of people feel alienated within their own homelands because they don’t look like, act like, or otherwise inhabit the space of normativity that defines “Canadian-ness” (or “American-ness”).

But I can’t really claim to be “Chinese” either. Certainly I am racially and ethnically Han Chinese, but culturally I am as far removed from being Chinese as one possibly can be as a “Canadian Born Chinese”. I can functionally communicate in Cantonese, read Hanzi at a grade school level, and I’ve never actually been to China or Hong Kong, and my Chinese cultural references are old John Woo and Stephen Chow movies. There is a cultural void that I’ve felt for most of my life, and it comes from — as Crazy Rich Asians explains — being a “banana”, where my race and my cultural context have created the extreme feeling of alienation that is familiar to most, if not all, minorities living in North America.

So this is where we land on the North American notion of the hybrid identity that has developed over the last century. I’m not Chinese, I’m not Canadian, but I exist in some undefined border — the liminal space between the two — as a “Chinese-Canadian”. But what does that even mean when there is no culture that defines Chinese-Canadian identity? I don’t want to deny the great cultural contributions of artists such as Mina Shum or Wayson Choy and many others (Double Happiness is still a foundational text for me in terms of being able to articulate the fact that I don’t have an identity whatsoever), and I mean no offence when I suggest that these artists aren’t household names (and I’d much rather re-read Choy than yet another Atwood novel…).

I came to Double Happiness when I was in my teens, already feeling the anxiety of not having an identity and being unable to articulate it because there was simply no outlet for me to express my inability to connect with the greater culture around me. I saw myself in Sandra Oh’s Jade, a woman who would never be Chinese enough for her parents or other Chinese people, but who isn’t Canadian enough to be accepted by Canadian society as an actress (I’m sure this was something that Sandra Oh had to fight against during the early parts of her career). I think it was at that moment that I understand that I would always feel like an outsider in my own homeland, not necessarily because I was marked with a visible difference, but because it took so long for me to see myself reflected in the culture that I consumed.

This isn’t necessarily a unique Chinese or even Asian-North American experience. As I wrote several years ago when I began to unpack the importance of yet another seminal Asian American cultural moment — the debut of Fresh Off The Boat — both the “real” and fictional Eddie Huang embraced hip hop because he was able to relate to a culture defined by alienation. Meanwhile, Gene Yang’s American Born Chinese ends by having the main character admit that he can never be white and escape “Chin-Kee”, the specter of Chinese-ness that haunts his every waking moment, and accept that being Chinese is a part of what defines him even if he doesn’t necessarily explain how that acceptance manifests itself.

But the fact that I can make references to a hit ABC sitcom and an Eisner award-winning graphic novel in order to try to articulate some notion of Chinese-American identity is precisely why it is so crucial to have a culture that represents the unique situation of being neither Chinese and neither American (or Canadian).

I love James Hong and respect him for his long career and the work he has done in order to help insert a Chinese face into American culture, but my entire identity in the early 90s was essentially tied to this clip:

The fact that I can’t remember any other “role models” from my childhood except James Hong putting on that accent and annoying Jerry, Elaine, and George is perhaps a sad reflection of my limited worldview as a child of the 90s, but also a condemnation of what happens when there is no one for you to look up to.

We are so hungry for representation because we live in a cultural vacuum, where the only other cultural reference you can make is to The Joy Luck Club or how fucked up it was that people thought this was okay:

It’s interesting because Hari Kondabolu’s attempts to address the problematic nature of Apu from The Simpsons touches on this exact same anxiety, where being South Asian is defined entirely by a single cultural touch point that can influence your life forever (that’s even before addressing the indignity of being represented by a white man putting on an accent in a bout of modern brown-face). Thankfully between The Mindy Project, The Big Sick and Master of None, South Asian-American representation has certainly improved in the last few years.

That’s not to say that East Asian-American representation, both on screen and off screen, hasn’t improved either. In film alone, Justin Lin basically built up one of the most improbably popular blockbuster franchises in recent history out of nothing — made more miraculous when you think about how the Fast and Furious films were culturally diverse before Disney decided that maybe their superheroes didn’t all have to be white men.

But even so, it’s been contingent on the Asian community to just accept things the way they are and not raise too much of a commotion about cultural representation. So when Tina Fey decides to double down on her racism with an episode of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt about how Asian-Americans humourless internet trolls who don’t understand comedy, we’re just to accept the fact that she above criticism. When Ghost in the Shell ends by explaining a Japanese girl had her brain carved out and placed into Scarlet Johansson’s body, we should be grateful that they mentioned the character’s Japanese origins at all. When Scott Buck refuses to address Iron Fist’s Orientalism, we just have to accept that no one is allowed to change the origins of a character because comic books are sacrosanct.

All of that explains why Crazy Rich Asians is such an important film for the community. With all of this cultural baggage on their backs, I respect the sacrifice Kevin Kwan and Jon Chu made when they eschewed an easy Netflix deal in order to bring the film to theaters even more than I did when I had initially read the interview.

It’s not that there haven’t been countless great Asian-American films made between The Joy Luck Club and Crazy Rich Asians. Justin Lin’s own Better Luck Tomorrow, or Only the Brave, or Saving Face, or Eat With Me, or the recently released Gook to just name a handful are great films in their own right for telling stories about Asian Americans that simply aren’t reflected in the culture otherwise

(Edit: I’ve been told that I’ve been remiss in not including the Harold and Kumar trilogy in the above list. Apologies to John Cho and Kal Penn!)

But the only way to get the culture to pay attention — not just the people consuming it, but also the people producing it — is to make the biggest impact possible and even in 2018 with streaming services and video on demand, the path to cultural relevance is still through a major movie studio that can both promote your film and widely distribute it across the world. It’s unfortunate, but that’s why people still point to The Joy Luck Club and don’t mention any of the smaller independent films that have come out since then. The fact that the last film before The Joy Luck Club to feature an all Asian cast to be distributed by a major movie studio was Flower Drum Song in 1961 (which is a film/musical that probably has as much, if not more, cultural baggage associated with it than even The Joy Luck Club) points to the significance of Crazy Rich Asians and why it has become a moment for Asian-Americans.

Kevin Kwan made another important production decision that drives home how much is riding on this film’s success. During pitch meetings, Kwan recounts meetings where producers suggested that having a white actress in the Rachel Chu role would make for a more successful film — to pull a quote from the interview, apparently he was told that “it’s a pity you don’t have a white character” — makes his decision to option the rights to his book for a dollar in order to maintain creative control a moral stance against Hollywood producers who don’t see any value in Asian actors.

Certainly the film’s fish out of water story could have easily been adapted so that Rachel Chu became Rachael Churchill (starring Scarlett Johansson or Emma Stone, of course) and many of the beats would have been the same. But his film is so powerful precisely because Rachel (Constance Wu) is Chinese-American. She isn’t Chinese, as Nick’s mother Eleanor (performed with perfect stoicism by Michelle Yeoh) constantly points out throughout the film, and that’s actually not a problem for her. In fact, the film goes out of its way to show how her Chinese-American identity helps her navigate the precariousness of Singapore’s socialite lifestyle, allowing Rachel to be proud of being a “banana”.

Are there problems with the film? Undoubtedly. The fact that the one time South Asians are shown in the film involves using them as comedy propspoints to narrow focus of the film and how much it ignores of the realSingapore. Or how Oliver (Nico Santos) is queer, but is never actually shown with another man, perhaps because gay sex is technically still a criminal offence in Singapore. Of course, the title itself points out that the only poor people shown in the film are the servants who presumably slink back to their cramped government subsidized high-rises after they are done serving the crazy rich Asians who employ them.

Even if you ignore the social issues, the film itself isn’t perfect either. It has the feel of an adaptation where they didn’t want to cut any of the cast, but had to cut all of their supporting stories in order to get the film to hit the 120 minute running time. And I mean this with utmost respect to Jon Chu’s career, but I still haven’t forgiven him for what he did to Jem and the Holograms a few years ago and there are times when the film feels just as workmanlike and banal as that failed outing. You’d think the climatic moment where Nick chases down Rachel in order to propose to her (again) would be wonderfully cinematic, but it’s perhaps the least exciting visual moment of the film. Similarly, the much written about Mahjong battle at the end was a great moment in spite of the direction, not because of it.

There is a lot wrong with the film. That’s unavoidable. Do I wish a studio picked up George Takei’s Allegiance and I was writing about about a big budget film about a Japanese-American family torn apart by the forced internment policies of a racist United States? That would have been great.

But in a way, this is very much like Fresh Off The Boat (and not just because of Constance Wu). When the real Eddie Huang quit narrating the show because it deviated so far from the harsh reality of his childhood experiences as a Chinese-American growing up in Florida, I totally sympathized with his decision and understood his rationale. Fresh Off The Boat isn’t an unvarnished look at the Chinese-American experience, nor is it ever going to touch on issues of race in a meaningful way. For better or for worse, it’s just not that kind of show nor is it trying to be. But the producers of the show were able to include an episode where the entire B-story was in Mandarin, a first for a family sitcom in America.

Crazy Rich Asians is very much in the same position as Fresh Off The Boat. It’s telling the world that Asians and Asian-Americans are just people like everyone else, facing similar problems as we try to carve out an existence in the world and live our lives. We fight with our in-laws, we get cheated on by our husbands, we have rivals who try to sabotage us, we deal with friends that we only talk to because we grew up with them and not because we have anything in common with them, we even deal with racism from time to time (although most of us don’t have the money to humiliate a racist by buying their place of employment).

It’s not the Asian-American of Do The Right Thing, let alone BlacKkKlansman, but I have to hope that if this movie is a success, then those types of stories will come in time. Maybe they’ll make a spin-off featuring Nico Santos’ Oliver called Crazy Rich Gaysians and have his character confront Singapore’s endemic social and structural homophobia. Or maybe they’ll make a Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead-like movie about the two guards where they discuss the existential crisis of life defined only by serving as a backdrop to the stories of the rich. I believe that we can get there eventually, we just need to use Crazy Rich Asians as the push to get us there.

Anecdotally, the movie feels like it is appealing to more than just Asian-Americans desperate to be represented on screen. When the credits started rolling at my screening, a couple of Jewish women (who went out of their way to build a connection with me by telling me that Jewish culture and Chinese culture are connected by Mahjong and Chinese food at Christmas) told me that they had a great time watching the film. And in the moment of hesitation I felt when they unknowingly asked me to represent my entire race and culture by asking me if I liked the film, I told them that I did.

Maybe I don’t like the film for all the same reasons that they did, but that’s the point. Crazy Rich Asians is a film that is miraculously both culturally specific and broadly appealing. Even if you don’t care about any of what I wrote and just want to watch a good romantic comedy, you would be hard pressed to find one as good as this one in recent years. But if you are that Asian-American who has been waiting for over two decades to feel like you belong to a culture that has largely ignored you and taken you for granted, you will be witnessing a moment of cinematic history. That alone is worth the price of admission.

I didn’t have any place to put this, and it’s such a minor point that really isn’t worth including, but as a former teaching assistant I felt compelled to at least mention it.

So the film is supposed to take place during Rachel’s spring break. We see early in the film that she has a TA (that she tortures), so it’s possible that she dumps all her papers on him and tells him to grade everything while she’s having an adventure in Singapore. That’s perfectly fine, but it seems clear that she ends up staying in Singapore for much longer than a week (there is at least 3 days of flying time depicted in the film).

This means that there is no way she gets back in time to teach her class, assuming she even goes back after getting engaged, which means the poor TA is stuck holding the bag with a bunch of undergrads who will probably blame him for their grades not being in or for class being delayed.

Won’t anyone think of the poor teaching assistants who don’t have billionaire partners to sweep them off their feet?

[riskeith]

hihi! <333

it didn’t stay for long but then it started snowing a lot again and this time it seems like it will stick.. dude crazy how different our climates are rn.. i can only imagine how warm it is rn in aus. no worries! there’s always a tomorrow after today :DDD my days has been nothing but stressing over school and exams, watching haikyuu, playing genshin and thinking about you (sry i have to flirt can’t help it 😜) wbu?

i do have her, i meant hypothetically ! also THE DILUC COMIC IS SO SPOT ON gosh that’s so funny shhdkdhdjdjdj that happened with my boy bennett he just... can’t light those torches... bouken da bouken... 3: gotta bring out amber for that task tbh.

traveller is such a op!! from what i gather people sleep on them because they’re free and there are “more” exciting characters but traveller is a five star!!! put some respect on their name 😤 to each their own, but yk. underrated baby.

YEAH PRO BENDERS!!!!!!! well.. they’re on opposite teams and something happens at an important match of theirs so they’re forced to link up to survive and well.. yeah 😌 i’ve written about 20k words and i’m not even half done with the story help... i really wanna finish it though... anyway yes i do write shdksjdksjdk at first i was too shy to bring it up but you know so much about me already might as well.. 😶 i’ve written for years but i only started posting seriously again after years of not doing it in 2020... i have a couple out actually !! shsjdjhdjdjd not a lot of klance but some bnha ! 🥺 maybe someday i’ll share... 🥺

this connects a bit with this ^ part above as well i suppose. it was incredibly freeing ! it was actually the best thing i’ve done to myself.. idk i realized that that life was just dragging me down so much... always being connected and knowing everything all the time drained me so much. then i just cut everything out and found myself??? this sounds so generic but it’s true jshsjjsisjfj if it’s something you’ve thought about i truly recommend it!!! it takes some time to get used to the silence but god when you do it’s so relaxing. it’s like... so fun hanging out with yourself. i got into so many shows and watched so much movies and stuff by myself and made my own memories and i treasure that so much. shdhdkdhkssj this got so deep..... freelance writing do be like that. you can’t force it you just gotta let it come to you. but looking at your posting list you’re super consistent and it’s always quality fics so don’t feel too bad!! here’s an outside view telling you that you’re doing super well... <333

COUPLES THAT FIGHT TOGETHER STAY TOGETHER. yea they fucking do. look at us being todobaku kinnies... dhsjdhkshsksjdhdkd LMAO. GOD SERIOUSLY AAAA??????? wait 😭😭 venti baby is coming home..... he is coming home!! 😭😭😭😭 i’ve thought about it seriously and i’d happily pay money to have him his fighting style is just soooo good... 🥺 imagine if we had xiao and venti that would be so sexy of us. manifesting it all day every day. you know i would happily give some financial support for your xiao pulls... if it comes down to it <333333 i haven’t read anything either i haven’t thought much about shipping while playing tbh shksdhksshdk maybe someday for fun tho.. also i had no idea!!!! i’m def gonna check it out, is it on their website?

if they announced a movie and it was a prequel... i’d be so upset. like... so fucking upset lmao. there are so many unresolved loose ends it would be so annoying... but truthfully i don’t think they’ll do it. voltron took to hard of a hit for them to pull a move like that lmao .

hmmmm it’s true that studio ghibli movies end too fast.. one moment you’re like... in this amazing beautiful world and the next there are end credits. haku is BESTEST boy. dragon king.... <3333 you’re going on a studio ghibli marathon??? how beautiful of you. <3

🥺 ik but i love asking.... you know that tumblr post where the dude talks about how he keeps calling his wife ‘my wife’ because it makes him happy to remember that they’re married? that’s literally me.. ANYWAY AAAAA ! a one shot multichap sounds soooooooooo good.... i’d love to read it pls i’d be so honored. it’s up to you though i’d accept Anything i too have my whole heart open..

btw i’ve never asked but always wondered: what kind of music do you listen to? <3

*bernie voice* i am once again asking for your forgiveness. i keep sending these long ass asks i rly need to chill... goodbye LMAO :*

(‘read more’ again bc my reply got long fhksjfjds)

hi bb!

oooo nice! did you get to play in the snow~ and yeah ahah it’s close to 30 degrees rn! it was pretty shit earlier in the week but it’s gonna get hotter again for a bit. does it get pretty hot in sweden in the summer? or are you guys too close to the north pole or something for that to happen

that sounds good!! (other than the horrible thing that is school...) ahah you’ve got my heart going doki doki now please 🤪💓. in all honesty it seems pretty balanced tho i do hope you’re taking breaks from study and all!! hmm today i got up super late again and then i tried to go for a walk (it was too hot so i came back) and then i was editing a fic! and now i’m gonna play genshin bc i think a new event started, then hopefully maybe finally start studying fhksjfd

ahh ! AHHAHA nooooo rip :( but omg i still can’t believe you have bennett.. like i know that i haven’t tried for this banner and maybe i would have him too if i did but 😩😩 he’s so cute!! WAIT on that topic guoba does that too i swear i have to like make so many calculations and figure out the optimal spot to place him so he won’t go breathing fire in the wrong direction XD

i 10000000% agree!!! like excuse me they can also control TWO elements???? who else could ever 😩 i watched a video about geo traveller too some time ago and that made me stop sleeping on them like damn they did some damage!

hehehe that sounds so intriguing 👀 20k!!! that’s more than i could ever omg... sending you strength!! you’ve got this 💪💪 icb you were too shy to bring it up pls im losing my mind over here 😭 but aw that’s really nice <3 maybe 2020 did some good after all.. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! pls whenever you’re ready i’m here... or mayhaps would you be okay with just plain copying a snippet into an ask sometime i promise i won’t look it up and try find you 😩 but i wanna witness some of your magnificence !

(also scratch that genshin co-op date idea um... fic collab instead?! could you imagine 😌)

yeah ugh i totally get the being drained feeling.. it’s like it doesn’t bring you joy you know? and you’re just still there bc you’ve just always been there and it’s too late to leave. !!! that does sound really tempting.. but i think i’m a bit too attached to the people i’ve met (you being one of them hehe) to fully let go. but if in the future i just need to take a break i’ll def do it! i was hesitant about doing that last year but now that i’ve done it before surely I won’t hesitate before doing it again (tho i’ve noticed that whenever i try to leave/take a break some new thing happens or releases and i’m losing my mind and can’t go fskjfhsd)

tysm marriage anon i appreciate you sm 😭💞 but yeah it’s easy to get lost in it sometimes but then i’ll look back and see how much i’ve actually done throughout the year and it’s like?? wow i did actually do and achieve a lot? so perspective matters i guess ahah

FHKDSJFH okay but todobaku who’s who? i like writing from bakugou’s POV more which makes me think I can relate to him more (like i used to write from lance’s pov a lot! that, and just bc we both love keith a lot 🤪) but i do write from todoroki’s pov quite a bit too.. hm. 

and yes!!! honestly if venti is actually coming back i should invest in getting him too.. he can do so much !! the only issue i have is that i don’t really like bow users bc i’m shit at aiming hfkdsjfhjsd. waiting for the day we can live out our xiaoven dreams <333 FKJSHFKJSD and please don’t give me money for that fhsdkfjs!! spend it on yourself instead 😩😩 but also real talk i wasn’t gonna say this bc i’m uber paranoid that somehow someone will read it and hack into my account FKHSFKSJD but i have like... 12k primogems rn AHAHAH so i’m feeling good about getting him! ty for the offer tho but seriously, let that go to your own genshin funds first if anything fhksjfds get yourself a c6 venti. yeah honestly me not really shipping anyone is a big reason why i haven’t read anything either lolll. like the art is good and i’m fine but i’m not invested enough to read fics about it yet fdshfkjs. yup it is! in case you haven’t found it yet, here! (i saw that the prologue alone was 74 pages and yeeted out of there hfdsjf)

yeah i think dreamworks ended up kinda unhappy with it all FKJFHKDSHFS but honestly with how they ended the show i feel like in their minds all ends were tied so the only option would be for a prequel? idk. and also bc i feel like movies from shows tend to do that ahaha. or omg a spinoff with completely new characters and maybe we only get mentions or cameos of the old ones hfkdsjf

yesss i’m so excited to at least get through the most popular ones!! still haven’t started howl’s moving castle yet tho lol. can’t wait to finally understand when everyone talks about these movies 😩

no i don’t know that post?? but omg.. 💕💕 also is this an appropriate time to ask what your pronouns are/how you like to be referred to FHSDKFHSD i’ve been using non-gendered language as much as i could bc idk what you prefer! 

okay i might.. post a link to that doc in an ask sometime soon then or hm.... what if i continued working on it instead... many different options hfskjdfd

i mostly listen to kpop!! ahah in recent years i’ve really said fuck western media and fully immersed in the asian stuff.. but yeah my ults are bts but i really got into seventeen in 2020 and i love them so much... they’re all so funny btsvt collab when HFKSFJS. hbu?? 

*bernie voice* i am once again asking you to stop apologising >:( please these are genuinely the highlight of my day LOL i am always looking forward to your messages!! pls do not chill >:((((

yours, c.r. <3

[momonetmoproblems]

On Clout Nine

The Dangers of Social Media Pranks and Social Experiments

Have you ever seen something on social media and the only thing that your mind can come up with is “Why?!”

A popular saying on social media platform, Twitter, in response to the often obscene and unabashedly done acts and statements made is

“Clout is a dangerous drug”.

Lately, it seems like a lot of attention-deprived people on social media are trying to do the most shameful, extreme, scandalous, or ostentatious things for the rewards of the potential impact on each platform.

Clout is traditionally defined as influence in politics or business, but that definition has evolved to encapsulate having influence in online communities and, more accurately, wanting attention on social media. 

Over 2 million Instagram posts have been tagged #clout, videos with the same tag have gained over 3.7 billion views on TikTok and, words such as cloutchaser (Bamidele, 2019), clout check and cloutlighting (Nagesh, 2018) have been coined. The word even inspired an app of the same name — “Klout”, a service which boldly displayed one’s social media interactions and engagements in the form of an algorithm generated figure (Edwards et al., 2013.) And, had that platform survived, people would have definitely found a way to wear their scores on their foreheads if they could or add it to their résumé. (Hello, influencer marketing is the present and the future.)

From licking ice-cream straight from the tubs and putting them back in the freezer to persons falling to their deaths from seven-story buildings after failed Planking Challenge attempts (Shears, 2011) or YouTubers dying from a close range shot to the chest during a stunt with a Desert Eagle handgun (Brantley, 2018), so many people across the world are craving the fleeting sensations of clout.

Users will therefore use a sensationalized headline or caption, clickbait, to garner as many clicks or interactions with their content as possible in tandem with the already obnoxious or shocking display, and people fall for it every time. It’s like those completely obvious magazines in supermarkets from the early 2000s that you find yourself picking up even though you KNOW the headline is a trap!

(Just look at these stories. I mean, 2006 Me is SHOOK!)

The development of the internet and social media has created new opportunities for using pranks and social experiments as a veiled means of accumulating clicks and engagement by social media users. This clout manifests in the form of likes, quote tweets and retweets, subscriptions, reposts, shares, among other tools. Stacey Koosel, in The Renegotiated Self: Social Media’s Effects on Identity, states that this need for attention, to share and be a contributing part of the online community:

...motivates people to share more with each other in hopes of entertaining their audience and receiving positive reinforcement or reception of the content they posted, and in doing so, creating a sense of camaraderie or community.

Therefore, according to Koosel, some Internet users engage in “electronic exhibitionism” in an effort to lure as much attention as possible, and become celebrities by the careful construction of their online identity.

While pranks and social experiments can be a good laugh or even eye-opening, in the form of social commentary or satire, sometimes, things go a little too far. These pranksters tend to get so high off of the fame these stunts bring them and the effects can be sobering. I call this On Clout Nine. 

Physical Harm

The Tripping-Jump Challenge

Earlier this year, one of the most dangerous pranks to plague social media swept across the globe, claiming a few lives in its wake. The Tripping-Jump Challenge features an unsuspecting victim and two provocateurs on either side of him or her. The aim of the antagonists was to convince their target that they were all going to see who could jump the highest on camera, sometimes with a small cash reward as an incentive. When the middle person jumps, the persons on their right and left kick out their feet mid-air causing them to take an awkward tumble.

The injuries ranged from bruises to fractures to even death.

As news of the prank spread on social media, it wasn’t long before it was picked up by Jamaica’s youth and three Meadowbrook High School boys were met with the consequences. But, this challenge is merely one on a long list of pranks and social experiments that are steadily becoming a threat on our little island.

Popular local YouTuber and Prankster, iHeart Manii (née Kymani White), met his match when he scouted the Half Way Tree area for potential victims of his latest social experiment. For this act, Manii would pretend to find money at the people’s feet, hold the money up very obviously and either walk away or ask the person if the money is theirs.

Yuh ever owe a Jamaican money yet? Lol.

Naturally, the responses were downright comical as most participants were dishonest and, at times, convincingly insistent. Thus, the video was circulated on social media rapidly. Today, the May 8, 2019 upload has since gained over 187,000 views, 10,000 likes and almost 2000 comments. While this is a huge accomplishment for Jamaican content creators, any well-thinking person must wonder if Kymani has really assessed the risks associated with these stunts.

The woman in both screenshots above was the real star of this video as she violently challenged Kymani regarding the ownership of the money, even after being told countless times that the events were staged, eventually causing him bodily harm.

Despite run-ins with law enforcement and hostile responses to his antics from some Jamaican victims, Kymani continues to develop new prank ideas as his primary means of income and rise to fame, stating to Jamaica STAR Writer, Stephanie Lyew, “The more pranks I upload, the faster my followers grow; for example, each time I upload a prank I gain an average 400 new subscribers.” The STAR previously put Kymani’s page at 15,000 subscribers in May 2019, growing from 5,000 over ten months. Today, White’s channel boasts approximately 96,400 subscribers and the ongoing pandemic has not stopped him from executing and uploading his experiments and pranks.

Yes, these videos have proven to be profitable content but at what cost? The unpredictability of Jamaicans is what makes these pranks such a risk to the entire iHeart Manii team. Today, it’s the old woman stabbing him. Tomorrow, maybe the woman is a man, maybe the knife is a gun...

Furthermore, Manii’s pinned prank upload features himself and fellow Jamaican YouTubers, Gio of Gio and Ken, and Rolley of Trouble Link, calling local taxi companies under the guise of heading to the airport with an extremely heavy suitcase. Each of the young men takes a turn being secured within the luggage, unbeknownst to the cab drivers, until the hidden participant begins to struggle and groan giving the appearance of a kidnapping in progress.

The first and third drivers were perturbed and refused to take them upon the realization that the young men had kidnapped someone. The second driver, however, began negotiating the fare and admonishing them for not speaking in hushed tones due to the nature of the act they were about to commit. This was just as, or even more disturbing than, the prank itself and, of course, my mind took OFF:

This clearly isn’t the first time this man has done this!!!

Yeah, I’m never taking another taxi again, thanks, xoxo.

So many women have been kidnapped within the public transport system. Hello, Jasmine Dean?!

Which company does he work for? Mortec?! Gadgepro?! On Time?! Mortec????!

Would he have carried the act right through for the right price?! I bet he would, the scum.

Is he going to be investigated? Paging JCF!!!!

Not ONE of them couldn’t see something wrong with this???

But, I digress (one issue at a time, Monét, one issue at a time). However, my mental tirade brings me to my second point.

Desensitization

Around October 1, 2020, a chilling video of a woman being abducted circulated on social media. In the two-minute-and-20-second-long video, the woman is shown walking down a roadway before she is restrained and pulled into a motor vehicle by four masked men. The man, Nathaniel, driving the getaway car is the woman, Tish’s, boyfriend and the video was originally uploaded to the couple’s YouTube as a prank.

Scathing reviews were aired out on every platform the video could be found as social media users condemned the men for their insensitivity and came to the woman’s defense. However, story come to bump when the video was removed for violating the platform's harmful and dangerous content policy and the girlfriend blamed it on envious people and guaranteed that the couple would come back bigger and better. So...she was in on it?!

In an interview with The Weekend STAR, Trish claimed:

The prank was actually acted out. It can teach other persons. As you can see when I was walking, I was looking. Persons, young girls, should look around and know them surroundings. That was the whole idea.

These men seemed very experienced to several Twitter users, including myself.

Very believable, 10/10 performance.

Who knew Jamaica had so many fine male actors doubling as activists, aiming to raise awareness around kidnapping incidents?

Even if that was the intention, they went about it in the wrong way. There was no trigger warning to prevent potential viewers, or victims from having to see or relive their worst nightmare for a few laughs. The Jamaica Constabulary Force said it best in their statement addressing the situation:

Evidently, Cyberculture is blurring the lines between safe fun and harmful risks, between harmless pranks and trivialized social issues. For a little bit of clout, persons have been seriously hurt, sued, investigated by the authorities or have lost their lives. Social media has transformed the general perception on the value of lives as so many seem so eager to throw them away for a few clicks. 

Moreover, when we trivialize issues in the form of pranks and social experiments, desensitization is amplified exponentially. While there may have been outrage in response to the couple’s kidnapping prank, who knows how many men secretly thought this was a good idea, who may desire to attempt it, take it too far, not in an effort to cReaTe AwARenEsS, but to really catch a woman unawares with the intention to do more than shake her up a bit? 

Hopefully, these trends dissipate like so many ephemeral online fads. Until then, there is no doubt that these antics will only get worse, affecting more and more lives as this digi-cultural currency, clout, increases in its value and the risks increase in their damages. After all,  when it comes to Cyberculture, the road to fame is paved with shame, (Koestenbaum, 2011.)

Meanwhile, I? Feel zero remorse for these cloutchasers and the repurcussions which are sure to meet them when they come down from their high.

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. 

References

Bamidele, M. (2019, November 4). Clout Chasing: 5 instances celebrities have stirred controversies to stay relevant. The Guardian. https://guardian.ng/life/clout-chasing-5-instances-celebrities-have-stirred-controversies-to-stay-relevant/

Brantley, K. (2018, June 24). Pictured: Book that YouTuber died holding after encouraging his pregnant girlfriend to shoot him for videotaped stunt. DailyMail. https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-5878953/Prosecutors-release-pictures-bullet-holed-book.html

Education ministry warns against 'Jump Trip Challenge'. (2020, February 16). The Jamaica Observer.

Edwards, C., Spence, P. R., Gentile, C. J., Edwards, A., & Edwards, A. (2013).  How much Klout do you have … A test of system generated cues on source credibility. Computers in Human Behavior, volume 29 (issue 5), pages A12-A16. https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0747563212003767

Hobbs, R. & Grafe, S. (2015, June 30). YouTube pranking across cultures. First Monday, volume 20 (issue 7). https://journals.uic.edu/ojs/index.php/fm/article/view/5981/4699

Koestenbaum, W. (2011). Humiliation. New York: Picador.

Koosel, S. (2015). The Renegotiated Self: Social Media’s Effects on Identity. Alfapress.

Lyew, S. (2019, May 17). Kymani the prankster - Man leaves call centre job to fool around. The Jamaica STAR. http://jamaica-star.com/article/news/20190517/kymani-prankster-man-leaves-call-centre-job-fool-around

Merrifield, R. (2020, February 24). Parents warn kids against YouTube 'killer Jump Trip Challenge' after two deaths. Mirror. https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/parents-warn-kids-against-youtube-21563313

Nagesh, A. (2018, November 29). Cloutlighting: From online 'pranks' to toxic social media trend. BBC. https://www.bbc.co.uk/bbcthree/article/2f85d272-c509-4d2c-86bf-d4ed4f4e6d9b 

Russell, T. (2020). Attorney Going After Miami-Dade School Board After Teen Injured In ‘Jump Challenge’ Prank. CBS Miami. https://miami.cbslocal.com/2020/02/11/jump-challenge-prank-south-dade-high-school/

Shears, R. (2011, May 16). Bizarre internet craze 'planking' claims its first victim after man plunges from balcony to his death. MailOnline. https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1387272/Planking-claims-victim-Acton-Beale-falls-balcony-death.html

Taylor, T. (2020, October 2). Kidnap prank’ creators surprised by backlash. The Jamaica STAR. http://jamaica-star.com/article/news/20201002/%E2%80%98kidnap-prank%E2%80%99-creators-surprised-backlash

White, K. [iHeart Manii]. (2019, May 8). “Gimmi me money” Finding money in public social experiment. [Video]. YouTube.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQUetpE2V8c&t=703s

White, K. [iHeart Manii]. (2020, March 28). Kidnapping Prank On Taxi Drivers (GONE WRONG) *must see* || Gio and Ken || Trouble link tv. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X0HuRomRDzI

[black-strike-otp]

part 16

“We need u to chill out with the drama and death, ma’am.”

Try ‘n stop me. I’ma start rolling d20′s to determine everyone’s fate in this story ‘n you can’t stop me.

~Days Later~

Neutroboost took front and center in the largest gathering room on the Rising Star days later. It was an announcement everyone was either dreading or eagerly anticipating, depending on your viewpoint.

The mech looked visibly troubled. The same, haunted look that manifested the moment he was informed that Guard had been sent to the medic’s bay for immediate surgery. It hadn’t lost his optics sense.

On the bright side, he continued working in Guard’s position (well, what should have still been his position, as he was supposed to be an acting commander all along). The guards protected the energon reserves and everything remained very much the same as it did prior to Guard’s injury.

Novastrike squeezed past the legs of some of the much taller bots so she could get a better look at Neutroboost. Sure she could technically hear the mech just fine from the back, but she wanted to see his reactions as he spoke.

“Guard’s expected to survive.”

An immediate sigh of relief casted over the crowd.

“Unfortunately, our fine medic has informed me that his wounds were strenuous and worse than originally thought. Guard’s going to require a lot of rest. There’s... little hope that his left leg. We expect he’ll be in a lot of discomfort, with the possibility of never having a functional appendage.

“You all must understand,” he continued, “Guard is an older mech. Older than anyone left on this ship. When he is ready to get back to work, he will let us know-”

“A very spark-warming speech, Neutroboost, but I’ve been lying low long enough.”

Everyone turned their helms around with a mixture of disbelief and joy. Novastrike’s audios strained to hear the Commander as she hopped up and down from her position to try spotting him. It was both ridiculous and comical, leaving a few to chuckle a little as they spotted her.

“Guard! I- I thought you would still be-”

“Yeah, the medics not too thrilled with me getting up and moving around yet either, but he knows I’m stubborn,” Guard pointed out, his blue optics twinkling. Bots respectfully inclined their helms and parted the way as he stepped by.

Quivering in place, Novastrike grinned and stepped back as she waited for Guard to pass. She kept her helm held high as he walked by; wanting a very good look at the mech.

Her smile faltered just a moment.

There was a massive patched up scarred section on the front of his chassis. Using spare materials, a large support structure had to be made for him to use as a cane to walk. He barely placed weight on his left leg, hopping more than walking to move around.

Neutroboost took a step back to allow the larger mech some space to speak. He, too, offered a slight blow as Guard turned to address the crowd.

“Now, I know all of you have been working extra hard since... Well, the incident. Neutro’s told me that the top of the ship has been properly sealed off. I’m sure you’re all very tired with energon running low, and I appreciate your hard work.”

Guard gave a small pause as a brief round of applause and whistled chorused through the crowd. He made a gesture with his servos, snickering a little as the crowd settled. “However, the fact remains that we lost some very good friends in the battle. Good family. And we were ill prepared. So, much as this concerns me to say, we’re going to need to look for energon. Desperately. More than ever. Because we’re going to need energy not for today, but for tomorrow. For the fights that may certainly come our way.”

Novastrike glanced around. She met the worried optics of bots. They were rogue specifically to stay out of this war. And although they all knew Guard would do everything he could do to keep them out of harm’s way, his openness to acknowledging the threats around them left everyone uneasy.

“I know everyone here has a good spark in them. I know all of you want what’s best for the crew, for Cybertron, for our species. But we can no longer slack of training. We can’t continue to think just because we’re in the big, wide open space that we’re unseen. It isn’t Cybertron, but there’s signals coming off of us of our origins. And for some, just because we don’t follow, that’s simply enough to offline us.”

“But I will do everything in my power to keep everyone here safe, as I have tried to do so far,” Guard stated softly, turning his optics down upon his wounded leg.

Servos came together in colossal set of applause. A chant began to spread through the crowd moments later. Novastrike turned to see thebots placing one servo against their chassis armor over their spark and pumping their other servo in the air. Needless to say, with a whimsical grin, she too joined in.

“For Guard! For the Rising Star! For Guard! For the Rising Star!”

The old mech offered a tired smile, a blurry look about his optics. He blinked rapidly and startled, glancing over to see Neutroboost place a servo against his arm and nod solemnly with a smile of his own.

It was quite possible he shed a tear or two before the meeting was adjourned.

~

~Months Later~

The Nemesis was under heavy fire. There had to be at least half a dozen starships in its fleet, and even more ships that didn’t qualify as technically ‘starships’ but those stolen and used as such during the Exodus.

Standing against it was the Ark, and a much smaller armada of Autobot vessels. Much like the Nemesis, it took was encountering heavy fire from its opposite faction.

Seekers and fliers were using their abilities to their advantage. With the Autobots lack in these fields, the Nemesis had a slight upper servo.

Upon the Ark, Blackout could make out Lord Megatron taking on Optimus Prime himself. Obviously anyone with half a processor was letting the leader of the Decepticons have his thrill for the kill. Any Autobots who attempted an intervention were either being slaughtered or punted off the ship, where they would soon find themselves surrounded by a hoard of Decepticons.

The havoc was delicious.

Blackout took a ‘grunt’ job. Since all the lazy, stupid Decepticons didn’t act nor think of it, he had his cannon open and was going after the Ark’s weapons. Most of the dumbafts were trying to go after the Autobot’s themselves instead of considering the giant mcfragging laser beams and particle-combustible cannons, and missile launchers.

Oh, not to mention the overshock sonic battery that sent out massive waves of discharge that made auto-calibrating systems malfunction like Blackout’s EMP generator.

Blackout used his EMP discharges and machine guns to try keeping away the Autobots that kept coming at him like mosquitoes. They hardly had enough Seekers to prove a real nuisance, any any trying to fire on board the ship were for the most part, easy to dodge so he could focus his attacks on the Ark’s weapon systems.

Explosions riddled the ship, but seemed to only be leaving surface damage. It was well-built, Blackout would give them that. Shards of metal and any bots outside the ship trying to attack went soaring off from his attacks, but it seemed he was doing minimal damage to the vessel itself.

:: Blackout to Nemesis, direct attacks on the Ark’s front and top where the laser emitters are. Be aware, Lord Megatron is fighting on the upper deck. Do not hit our Lord. ::

:: This is the Nemesis to Blackout, we read you. ::

The Nemesis’ charged up its large fusion cannon and fired. The enormity and strength of the blast washed over the front of the Ark in a blaze of fire. A wave of energy from the black went soaring like a sonic blast in all directions, hitting a flier Autobot. The bot went soaring in Blackout’s direction and he fired his cannon, leaving the poor sap a ruin of scrap metal floating in space.

The Decepticon Hound whipped around his machine guns and trailed bullets along a couple of Autobot fliers and seekers that darted around him wildly. He began flinging his alt-mode around swiftly, aiming to try taking another of them out.

A seeker streaked by Blackout as he turned. His cannon went off with a clap of thunder, striking the seeker and sending him spiraling.

But not before he managed to drop a small gift of a payload before he went flying.

Blackout put full power in his thrusters, but it was too late.

The flak grenades detonated. With the openness of space the damage could have certainly been much worse, but fire and shrapnel pelted into Blackout’s frame; digging into him and his undercarriage. One of his thrusters was knocked offline and the other sputtered, slightly.

He could feel a swift reaction of Scorponok’s pain through the bond.

Blackout jerked his cannon around. The thing spat sparks as it loaded up another shot and he fired after the seekers and fliers even as they flew well beyond an accurate shot.

A sudden sonic blast slammed into Blackout, sending him spiraling in circles. His systems glitched as he whipped around and around, trying to gain control of his steering.

The Nemesis had powered up the fusion cannon again and fired.

Scrap, he was too close to the Ark.

Although the direct attack was no where near him, the energy whipped around the ship and sent Blackout hurtling away from the Ark. With a lack of control, he simply started flying randomly and couldn’t stop.

Seekers suddenly came jettisoning past him, deploying missile after missile into his frame. Energon and metal exploded outward from his body and into space.

“ERROR: Systems Malfunctioning. WARNING: Reaching critical energon loss.”

Blackout tried to hail the Nemesis or frag, any of the stupid Decepticons floating their useless afts around.

The seekers rounded back around, firing off their neutron blasters and energon blasters as they passed.

Blackout was floating further and further out from the fight at this rate. His systems suddenly went into lockdown; going into stasis as his frame was blown into by hundreds of tiny blaster shots.

~

“It looks like there must have been a major battle here.”

“Indeed it does,” Guard stated wearily, looking at massive wreckage and rubble left behind by the warring Autobots and Decepticons.

Novastrike’s audios lowered slightly, seening all the offlined bodies simply left to float in space. She sent a silent prayer out to Primus. No matter how far they were from home, she knew he must be accepting the sparks of these fallen souls back into His grace.

Guard turned slowly at the team of bots standing around him, jutting out a digit to one of the many ships left stranded. “We’ll start with that one first, and see if there’s any survivors or energon that managed to get left behind.”

The group nodded their helms respectfully in response. “Yes sir!” they shouted in unison.

With her tail giving a small lash to and fro, Novastrike stepped closer to Guard. The mech looked absolutely exhausted. She wondered if he’d been drinking his ration of energon at all lately.

“Sir, is there anything I can do?”

The Commander adjusted his cane to the best of ability. He was clearly exhausted; he barely managed to shuffle slightly in her direction to look down at her better.

“You may wait at the hatch for them to return, Novastrike. I’m sure they’ll salvage some things from the ship, and we’ll need help organizing and categorizing anything that’s brought in.”

“Yes sir,” she responded respectfully, trying on her best supportive smile. Despite how tired he looked, he still offered the kindest smile in return.

Transforming into her cyber-cat alt-mode, Novastrike bolted down the hallway. Her claws scrapped the ground below her, helping to grip the ground and propel her forward faster. Bots staggered as she darted by, shouting obscenities at her speed that it wasn’t a race and that she needed to watch it.

A purring laughter escaped her. Just because they didn’t understand the thrill of a good run, stretching out all your limbs and feeling the pressure loosening in your joints, didn’t mean they had to be so snippy.

Nova came to a halt just outside the hatch bay. Magnetizing her pedes onto the floor, she waited for someone on the other side to open the door for her so she could come out.

“Hey there Novastrike,” the mech stated warmly.

She offered a polite nod.

“Ooh no, looks like Guard sent short stuff to help us out,” teased another.

“Short stuff’ll still kick your aft in the training room.”

“Ooohh she got you!”

“Shut up.”

Nova’s optics looked over those standing around with the hatch open. Neutroboost made the most prominent presence, standing near the middle of the room with a datapad in one servo and speaking to a mech standing beside him.

:: This is Team Alpha. We found energon, I repeat, we found energon! ::

Everybot broke out in cheers. Over the open comm channels on the ship, Guard’s voice echoed through the radios, “Excellent news. Any survivors on board?”

:: Negative, sir. Massive casualties. We’ll keep looking, though. ::

"Roger that. Report in with anything else you find,” Neutroboost murmured over the comms.

Venting a sigh of reassurance, the little femme walked close to the edge of the hatch. Space extended out in every direction endlessly. Planets, stars, the cosmos itself. She took a deep breath through her vents as though she was in awe.

A sheen of light captured her optics. For a moment, she thought it may be a comet, but it seemed too close.

Her optics readjusted.

It was an outline. The armor was so incredibly dark, it blended in with space itself.

Novastrike zoomed in the scope of her optics. There were gaping holes in the small ship, wires protruding here and there, and-

Her spark lurched. There had to be something wrong with her optics. That couldn’t be?

“Does anyone else see that dark, black ship about forty-eight degrees off, right there?” Novastrike asked, pointing a digit towards the manifestation.

A couple of the mechs stepped closer. Their optics whirled faintly as they readjusted.

“You know, I think you’re right.”

“That one looks pretty rough, I don’t think we’d find anything on board it Novastrike.”

Neutroboost strode over slowly. Nova gazed up at him, watching as his optics shifted slightly to look better into the void.

He gave a small noise. “Well I’ll be fragged,” he stated.

“Do you see it?” Nova asked helplessly.

“Of course I see it,” Neutro half snapped. He gave a morbid chuckle. “Looks like that mech finally got what was coming for him, huh?”

Instantly, the little white femme’s ears lit up. Her derma peeked out slightly from a deep frown on her faceplate and she snarled.

“How could you say such a thing- he could still be alive!”

Neutro turned a bored expression over to the femme. “How is that our problem? The big fragger probably met his fate anyway, look at how damaged he is.”

Neutroboost turned back and gestured to Blackout’s alt-mode. The other mechs turned to look at Novastrike, their optics showing alarm.

By the time the other turned his smug expression to where Novastrike had been, she was no longer there.

“Sir-”

Neutroboost turned to follow the gazes of the other mechs, spotting a rather defiant looking little femme harnessing up one of the few jet packs they had on board the ship.

His optics paled. “Are you mad?” he stammered. “Don’t you dare go out there.”

Clicking the harness into place, Novastrike gave a wave of her servo. The tether she secured around her floated lightly behind her as she demagnetized her pedes from the floor.

“Somebot, stop her!” Neutro demanded over the comm links. “Guard, we have a situation with your favorite little femme.”

Pressing curiously down on the accelerator for the boosters, Novastrike shot out from the Rising Star as she turned off her comm channel.

She gave a nervous squeak and let go of the accelerator. She continued floating straight out from the ship, her optics wide as she glanced around. It looked incredible out there. Looking out from the windows of the Rising Star didn’t do it justice. It was like being encompassed in shadows and moonlight faded and distant from every direction.

Glancing around, Novastrike adjusted the positioning and angle of her jet pack and gave a small pulse in the opposite direction. She flipped the direction around again and gave another small burst, slowing her approach as she directed herself over to the familiar ship.

Sure enough, the closer she got, the more it looked familiar. Or, should have looked familiar.

Shards of Blackout’s armor seemed to levitate around him in a debris field. The closer she got, the more she could see the speckles of energon that were simply floating around him as well.

Flipping her direction, Novastrike turned on the magnetism on her pedes and clanked into Blackout’s side.

Her spark fluttered anxiously. It was impossible to tell if he was alive, or dead. She reached down and slowly ran her digits over the mech’s armor.

Armor shifted from atop Blackout. Novastrike let out a small shriek, slapping her servos over her mouth. Oh Primus- was something- was something on him? Was it feeding on him, was it a Scraplet-

Scorponok undocked from Blackout’s frame and Novastrike let out a ragged groan of relief. It didn’t last long, as she noticed that Scorponok’s backside was lined with holes. His golden optics were rather lifeless and fatigued.

“Hello there buddy,” Nova all but cooed, carefully shifting her pedes on Blackout so she didn’t rip off anymore armor or get stuck as she reached a servo out to him. “You doing okay?”

The bug blinked his optics out of sync. He gave a chirp like he was confused by what he saw, and tilted his helm slightly.

“Hold on a moment, Scorponok. I got you,” Novastrike soothingly said, reaching out further. She ever so slowly placed her digits against the bug’s helm. He gave a small, weak whirl and nudged his helm a little more against her servo.

“Thank you,” she whispered, smiling slightly.

Demagnetizing, Novastrike angled her jet back and gave a light squeeze. She circled around Blackout and looked into the tether one way, knotting it. Then she floated slowly around the other direction, knotting the tether over a different section.

“There, I think that’ll do,” she murmured, glancing over the big ship.

She turned her comm channel on.

:: -in Primus name do you think you’re doing, you idiotic, ridiculous, stubborn, hard-helmed- ::

:: You can reel me in now Neutroboost, I got him. ::

:: Reel you in?! Reel you in?! You think I’m just going to- ::

A gentle tug came from the tether, and Novastrike magnetized herself against Blackout’s side, curling her digit against his armor as he got yanked forward slightly. Scorponok gave a startled metallic click and wrapped a section of his tail against Blackout to make sure he didn’t go floating off.

As they came closer to the Rising Star, Novastrike could see Guard standing by Neutroboost at the front of the hatch with his arms crossed as Neutro flung his arms wildly around, ranting and raving.

Uh-oh.

Giving a slick boost on the jet pack, Novastrike raised Blackout just enough so that he’d slide into the open bay without hitting the lower section of the hatch. Guard and Neutroboost stepped further back, and Guard, without turning his optics away from Blackout and Novastrike, gestured to another mech standing nearby.

The doors slowly closed for the hatch, and gravity was initialized once again.

Scorponok tumbled off of Blackout and onto the ground. He didn’t even so much as make a noise of pain as he simply lay sprawled where he fell.

Nova dropped down off Blackout and on the floor, her audios lowered.

“I can’t believe you!” Neutro growled. “Of all the stupid stunts, you bring this back? He’s probably not even online! You’ve wasted time and energy, and now we’ll need to throw him back out! And what if was online, hmm? You think we have the energon to spare for him?”

Guard raised a servo to Neutroboost. His optics grew brighter and he looked absolutely livid. He clearly wasn’t done chewing out the tiny femme but pouted furiously, waiting to see what Guard would have to say.

Much to Novastrike’s surprise, he made a wide arc with his servo, offering for her to speak.

“Guard, I’m sorry.”

“You are apologizing insincerely,” Guard rumbled deeply.

“I’m sorr-”

“Explain yourself, femme.”

Novastrike bit into her lip slightly. “I... I don’t really have a good explanation, sir. I know him. If he’s alive, I just... I wanted him to have a chance at living...”

“So, are we going to give all these poor, helpless individuals a ‘chance at living’ now?” Neutroboost snarled with annoyance.

Guard lifted a servo to him again for silence. Neutro grumbled, turning his helm away.

A little smile pulled at the corner of Guard’s faceplate. “I suppose we should call in the medic, then. You have a kind spark Novastrike, be sure that you’re placing it in the right servos.”

Novastrike started, and Neutroboost’s jaw dropped at the comment.

“Y-Yes sir,” she whispered, feeling a mixture of confusion at the comment and vulnerability.

The large mech gave a small nod. Ignoring Neutroboost’s sputtering as he tried to aim a disagreement towards him, Guard turned and headed for the exit to the bay with his fellow Commander right on his heels.

The others in the bay room exchanged glances, and turned to follow after the two Commanders.

~

“Well, he’s online. Barely,” the medic said softly, checking her scanners as she walked around the massive tattered obsidian ship.

“Do you think you can save him?” Novastrike asked anxiously, her digits twiddling in front of her chassis.

The femme glanced down at Novastrike slowly. “I can try my best. No promises.”

“And Scorponok?”

“He’ll most likely live,” the femme stated. “It looks like most of the shots glanced him. I would say your big friend here probably tried positioning himself so that he took the brunt of the attacks in order to save his minicon.”

Novastrike’s spark skipped a pulse. She looked between Satan and his small companion, whom the medic had managed to place upon a berth in her med-bay unlike giant’s large form.

A questionable grumble moved through Guard as he spoke: “How are you going to patch up the mech in this state.”

“I can’t,” the femme admitted. “I’m going to have to force his t-cog to transform. That alone might kill him.”

Novastrike could feel Guard transfixing a glance upon her. She tried to keep a steady, blank face.

“I’ll do what I can,” the femme repeated. “I’m going to seal up as much of his energon lines before I do that as I can, and with the fresh energon the team’s bringing in he’ll at least have a fighting chance with some of that in his system. I do assume, anyway, you’ll allow him some...?”

“Of course,” Guard agreed. “He’s our guest. And if Novastrike trusts him, then he is welcome here. We’ll do our best to help him recover, and protect him.”

Nova let out a soft, breathless gasp. Guard’s optic ridges raised high as he looked down at her, chuckling at her reverence gaze that lay upon him.

“Thank you, sir,” Novastrike gushed warmly, bowing her helm low.

Embarrassment flashed across Guard’s faceplate, and he quickly waved his servos in the air. “None of that, Novastrike. Although, if he does make it, I am putting you in charge of him. We can’t keep the mech against his will, but if he decides to stick around for any length of time, anything he does...”

“Is under my jurisdiction and punishment if he acts up. I understand, sir,” Novastrike murmured softly.

Guard gave a short nod. “Very good,” he stated. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to return to Neutroboost and try to calm him down and explain... all of this.”

The medic gave a thin laugh. “Ah, yes. Neutroboost is going to love this.”

Guard winced. “Indeed,” he agreed.

Novastrike flinched slightly as the Commander shuffled slowly around and ambled out of the room. She could see the worry written in the medic’s face, too, as she watched him too. That did nothing to ease any of her worries.

Suddenly, she turned her face upon Novastrike. She practically jumped out of her armor from the stern gaze.

“You brought him in, you’ll be helping fix him,” the femme stated matter-of-factly. “Now, get over here and put those little servos to use. You’ll start with stabilizing his little friend while I work on big-n-scary.”

A nervous smile stretched on Novastrike’s lips. “Y-Yes ma’am,” she squeaked, trailing after the medic.

[fandommatchups]

could u write a scenario where hunk is a superhero and the reader is a villain and they're always meeting up and having romantic tension and one night he's like "why don't we just date and both be superheroes" and the reader is like "i never thought i would switch sides, but for you? anything."

My first scenario, so may not be the best. I know the request was about superhero Hunk and a villain reader and my mind instantly went to comic book superheroes and villains and I’m not sure if you wanted that, so I wrote something that was a bit more modern. I apologize if this isn’t exactly how you wanted it. Plus, I couldn’t write superhero Hunk without sounding extremely stereotypical and cliche. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Y/N snickered as they looked down into the alley below from the balcony of her best friend’s apartment. A physical fight had broken out between a group of teenagers and Y/N being the person the person the are, they had no intention of stoping it. Plus, they were the ones who started the fight. How? Simple answer. Mind-control.

Y/N was one of the few people in the word who were experimented on as a baby by the government, resulting in superhuman powers. Their powers began to manifest when they reached the age of four when they absentmindedly made a classmate of theirs walk into a wall harshly. She had been practicing using her powers ever since then. Practicing on small animals like squirrel and birds, but as they got older, they began to use their powers on people. They made people do things for them, wether if it were illegal or not.

Like I mentioned earlier, there are others who were experimented on. Y/N has met two others who were experimented on when they were babies. Luna, Y/N’s best friend whose power is telekinesis. which is self-explanatory, Lance, who has the ability to breath underwater and swim faster than any other human could. He’s also more agile than humans. Lastly, there’s Hunk who is Lance’s best friend. Hunk has enhanced strength and defence. Able to resist the swing of a bat by a professional baseball player.

Luna and Y/N used their powers for bad as they had developed a habit of doing so over the years they had known each other. They would rob small grocery stores and clothing stores using their powers. Luna would use her telekinesis to grab items out of the store while Y/n would control another person to shoplift items for her. They would also rob people. Y/N right now was using their powers to make a group of teenagers fight for absolutely no reason.

Hunk and Lance, who I mentioned earlier used their powers for good, unlike Luna and Y/n. Lance would save people who were drowning and he often volunteers as a lifeguard. He once was able to save a small child from getting hit by a car due to his enhanced agility. Hunk once took the hit for a child who was about to get slapped by their parent. It didn’t hurt him even a little, but if the small child had taken the hit instead, they would of surely stumbled back and fall face first into the concrete ground.

Their powers aren’t unknown to the world, but they don’t use them out in public very often and usually use their powers in secret.

“Y/N.” Y/N heard someone call their name from behind them. The sound of rusted metal scraping against metal made Y/N turn around. The sound of the old balcony door sliding open. They came face to face with their best friend who was now leaning against the balcony railing. It was obvious that they were the ones who opened the door.

“Who are you gonna make win?” Y/N’s best friend, Luna, asked as she peered over the balcony railing down below into the alley, referring to the fight Y/N was controlling.

“No one.” Y/N said apathetically. They let the group of teenagers out of the grasp of their power, allowing back the teenagers the ability to control their own bodies agains. The adolescents fell to the ground the minute they were let go. This happened to everyone Y/N controlled. Y/N had no idea why and they weren’t interested in finding out.

Y/N had been controlling the teenagers for about half an hour. It started when Y/N was hanging out with their best friend in their apartment and they wanted some fresh air, so they went out into the balcony. A few minutes later, a group of teenagers strolled into the alleyway. Haven’t used their power in awhile, Y/N decided to start a fight between the teens. It was quite entertaining for Y/N.

“Well, I’m bored and hungry.” Luna stated. “Wanna go rob the convenience store that’s down the block?” She asked, straightening her back.

Y/N though about it for a second, but decided to declined. “No.” Y/N shook their head. “We already did four days ago. It’s also getting late. They’re probably closing shop, plus I need to get home.”

“Right…” Luna spoke, she seemed upset.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back tomorrow. Promise.” Y/N smiled at their best friend as they exited the balcony.

“Right…” Luna repeated in the same tone of voice.

Y/N walked through Luna’s apartment to the front door, where their shoes were. Luna followed. Y/N bent down to put their shoes on.

After putting on their shoes, Y/N made her way out the door. “See ya!” Y/N waved goodbye as they exited Luna’s apartment.

Luna didn’t have enough time to say goodbye before Y/N shut the door.

Y/N exited the apartment building and stepped foot onto the sidewalk before they began walking down the street, towards their house. It didn’t talk long for Y/N to reach their house, it was only about a ten minute walk and by the time Y/N made it home, dinner was already on the table, which they quickly ate with gratitude. After finishing dinner, Y/N ran up the stairs of their house and Into their room. There was still about four hours left until it was midnight. The time Y/N would have to sneak out of the house. Again.

Y/N decided to pass the time by reading a book. Yes. Read a book for four straight hours.

Time flew by quickly. Hours seemed to last a minute, minutes seemed to last a second and seconds seemed to last a millisecond. Before Y/N knew it, it was midnight.

Y/N slowly pried open the door to her bedroom. They peered into the hallway. All the lights in the house were off, which meant everyone was asleep. A perfect time to sneak out of the house.

Y/N grabbed her coat and her keys from inside her room before she quietly ran down the stairs and into the empty living room. They tiptoed their way to the front door to put on their shoes. The second their shoes were on, Y/N quickly ran out the door, not wanting to stay inside the house any longer in fear that they would get caught by their parents. TheY locked the door behind her before bolting down the street.

Since it was midnight, it was pretty dark, but having done this multiple times already Y/N had no probably running down the street in pitch darkness. Well, it wasn’t exactly pitch black. The stars illuminated the streets quite a bit. Enough to see at least.

While running, Y/N checked the time on their phone. 12:09. They were supposed to on the roof of the library ten minutes ago. Y/N had thought they had left the house early enough, but apparently didn’t and was going to be a bit late.

As Y/N neared the library, they bounded to the back side of the building. Y/N skidded to a stop in front of a steel ladder that reached the ground all the way to the top, so that when they met whoever was up top, it didn’t seem like they were just running for their lives. Y/N ran a hand through their hair before grabbing hold of the ladder and began to climb up. The library was only about five storeys tall. Yes, it is indeed a tall library. Well, the first two floors is actually a café, so the library would on be 3 storeys. 

When Y/N reached the top, they spotted a familiar figure sitting in the centre of the concrete roof. Hunk.

For the past three months Y/N had been meeting up with Hunk every night to hang out for a bit, even though they opposed each other. Or were supposed to oppose each other. That’s what their best friends told them at least. One used their powers for good, to help others while the other used theirs for bad, robbing stores and controlling innocent people to entertain them and do their bidding.

“Hey.” Y/N smiled. “Sorry I’m late.” Y/N spoke as they walked towards him. Hunk turned around at the sound of their voice.

“Hi.” Hunk smiled back, his eyes follow Y/N as they sat down next to him. “I was getting a bit worried. Thought you ditched me.” Hunk laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“When have I ever ditched you?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh. Never?”

“Exactly” Y/N said, their hand finding Hunk’s. Hunk hesitated for a second.

Spending hours at night with someone you’ve known for a little more than a year every night for over the course of three months, it would only be normal if there was some sort of romantic tension. Hunk and Y/N were no exception.

Y/N could hear Hunk sigh, which made them raise an eyebrow in his direction.

“Y’know, I wish you would stop doing bad things with you powers.”

“Huh?”

“Your always robbing stores with your best friend. Using your powers to control people against their will. I don’t like it.” Hunk spoke. He was hesitant to look Y/N in the eyes.

Y/N’s eyes widened a bit in surprise. Ever since the two began hanging out three months ago, Hunk had never brought up their powers or the way they use them.

“The owner of the convenience store near Luna’s apartment told me that he was considering shutting down the store, because it’s always getting robbed. I knew you and Luna were responsible and I’d hate for the store to close.” Hunk said. “C- could you maybe… stop?” Hunk had been practicing saying this, knowing that he would stutter and stammer a lot if her didn’t. He only ended up stuttering once, which is a real improvement since the last time Hunk talked about a serious topic with Y/N.

Y/N sat there next to Hunk, thinking for a bit. There hands were still intertwined. It felt like a eternity until Y/N spoke. “Habits die hard,” Y/N began. “but for you? Anything.”

This was planned to be way longer, because this scenario was supposed to take place during the course of two days, but I shortened it. 

I feel like the ending was a bit rushed. Is it?