#and a good 30% are unable to work because all the shows stopped

[watcherintheweyr]

'Rhaenyra is a bad mom bc she knowingly gave birth to bastards and she knew how much danger they'd be in!!!!'

1. She had no way of knowing those babies wouldn't pop out looking exactly like her, beforehand. And unfortunately she couldn't stop at Jace. The throne needed an heir. Driftmark needed an heir. And a spare was needed as well, given the sheer rate of Targaryen children dying untimely deaths.

2. She had to provide heirs to the throne, and to Driftmark. If she hadn't, society wouldn't have blamed Laenor, they would have blamed her- which makes her position even more unstable, bc then she 'can't fulfill a woman's duty' so why would men think her 'able' to fill a 'man's role' by ruling the kingdom? And she and Laenor tried. He was either unable (meaning infertile or impotent, or unable to get it up), or unwilling. (And they did try. We dont know what they tried but Rhaenyra is shown to be clever in the show so honestly i have no doubt she attempted what Margaery suggested with Renly.) Laenor was in on the entire thing. He was aware of every part of this. He wasn't duped, he wasn't cuckholded- it was a plan greenlit by him, bc this way he and Rhaenyra would both have their heirs and a family. This cannot in any way shape or form be compared to Cersei cuckholding Robert (fuck Robert Baratheon tho), seeing as Robert was **not** at all aware that his children weren't his, and wouldn't have been OK with that.

Either way- she chose not to maritally r*pe her husband and put him through more trauma after it was clear their attempts weren't working. Yall are always so upset for Alicent (rightfully so, bc show!alicent was maritally raped, even if it wasn't considered as such in that time), but you... WANT Rhaenyra to do that to Laenor? Hello???

[And no. Rhaenyra did NOT rape or coerce Criston Cole. The actors, writers, and directors have all stated their sex was consensual and 'an act of love.' It was Rhaenyra going to someone she felt close to and trusted after feeling abandoned and unwanted and betrayed. In that scene you literally watch, as after Cole tells Rhaenyra to stop undressing herself, she moves aside so she isn't blocking his way to the door. The director states that the moment they show Cole folding and setting down his cloak was him choosing his desire over his oaths. And Criston Cole has known Rhaenyra since she was 14. He knew damn well the sort of person she was- and she was not the person who would have harmed him for saying no. She was an intoxicated and emotionally vulnerable 19 year old- Criston was in his late 20s to early 30s. And it's explicitly stated in ep.9 that the ONLY person a Kingsguard cannot refuse is the king. In ep.7 Criston disobeys a direct order from Alicent when she wants him to mutilate Lucerys. Criston Cole was not assaulted. Stop trying to assign Aegon's sins to Rhaenyra so that you can feel better for supporting him.]

3. In the books, the rumors of their bastardry at large halted when all of Rhaenyra's boys' cradle eggs hatched. The ONLY people who continued to try and raise issue were the core green faction. But the realm at large *did not give a fuck* why? Because every actually relevant party claimed those boys. Repeatedly and without flinching. Laenor claimed and loved those boys even face to face with Alicent's bullshit. Corlys claimed and love those boys- he was proud of them, and it's been stated by the actor in the show that Luke was his favorite- that given the... events of ep.10, Corlys will be out for blood. And Viserys repeatedly insisted upon their legitimacy- because Laenor and Corlys claimed them, because he knew that by forcing Rhaenyra to marry Laenor in order to repair the damage his insults caused House Velaryon, that he had backed her into a corner.

Rhaenyras boys are remembered to history as Velaryon. Even **Green supporters** noted that they were good, capable, intelligent, and **worthy** princes. That their deaths were unfortunate *for the realm.*

Legally, those boys are legitimate. They cannot be proven illegitimate without Laenor renouncing them, and he never did. Furthermore, trying to declare children illegitimate due to their appearance is a stupid, dangerous precedent. The fact that it's people who have no ties to House Velaryon pushing these rumors and pushing for disinheritance makes it even worse, because they're meddling in the succession of a House that *is not theirs.* if that became a standard, imagine the feuds and conflicts that would erupt- lords pushing for the children of rivals to be declared illegitimate all for the sake of trying to grasp and steal land, power, and influence as a norm? The realm would tear itself apart. Not to mention the sheer danger that would place women in, in Westeros.

Furthermore, even whilst usurping her, even while calling her children bastards, the Greens also imply Laenor's homosexuality was inherited by the Velaryon princes- that they would use Rhaenyra's 'promiscuity' and Laenor's 'predilections' to turn the Red Keep into a brothel- ironic, considering that's more what Aegon would've done. So even while claiming that Rhaenyras children are bastards that shouldn't inherit, they try to state that what the boys inherit or learn from Laenor makes them unfit for the throne. They can't keep their own damn story straight- because their usurpation was never about what is moral, what is right, or the greater good. It was about greed. Power. Sexism.

It doesn't matter what those boys looked like, especially seeing as Rhaenys had dark hair in the books. What matters is that Corlys and Laenor and Viserys claimed them and declared them legitimate, and that they **never** deviated from that.

As for Vaemond, he was a second son. And he waited until Corlys and Viserys were dying and too ill to stop him to make a grasp for power. Youre not supposed to look at that and feel hes in the right. Youre supposed to look at that and see a man consumed by greed, and literally trying to bury Corlys' will and intentions before the man is even in a grave. He was NEVER Corlys' heir- he just wanted power. It wasn't about his House, or their legacy, it was about him.

(And before yall start shit about Rhaenyras boys stealing Laena's girls' inheritance... Rhaena and Baela are *TARGARYEN*. Not Velaryon. Their claim was to the throne or to any holdings in Daemon's name. NOT to Driftmark.)

Rhaenyras boys being betrothed to Rhaena and Baela tied up any issue of 'Velaryon blood.' Baela would have been queen consort of the seven kingdoms at Jace's side, and they very clearly adored one another in book and show. Rhaena would have been Lady of the Tides- which she never would have had a chance for, without Rhaenyra (and Laena) making those betrothals. She and Luke were also canonically very close- and in show she's very encouraging of him whenever he looks nervous or uncertain. They had a bond.

Rhaenyra stole nothing. She gave those girls more. And she loved them- they were the only daughters she got to have, seeing as the Greens treachery caused the early death of baby Visenya. If she hadn't loved them, she wouldn't have trusted Rhaena to look after Joffrey or give her Morning's egg from Syrax. She wouldn't have immediately invited both girls to the table when she was queen, which is something her father did not do for her until much, much later. He allowed Rhaenyra's voice to be silenced too often when she was first made heir. Rhaenyra did not repeat that hurt to her girls or her boys.

Anyways, moving on.

You lot do also remember that Rhaenyra herself has Velaryon blood, right? Jaehaerys I's mother was Alyssa Velaryon. Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya the Conquerors' mother was Valaena Velaryon. It's not immediate, but there *is* Velaryon blood through *all* of Rhaenyras boys.

Ultimately, Rhaenyras boys were only in danger because of the core Green faction usurping the throne. If they hadnt- no succession crisis or rebellion could have truly threatened Rhaenyras boys- because none of them would have had dragons. All of Rhaenyras children loved one another- her sons by Daemon would not have turned on her sons with Laenor (and Harwin). They were a true, loving family- possibly one of the healthiest and most close knit one House Targaryen ever boasted.

And another thing... 'her having babies with Harwin was stupid, she should have picked someone Valyrian!'

Here's the thing. Rhaenyra had to be careful as hell choosing who would father her and Laenor's heirs. She had to choose someone who was physically close, and who could be trusted. Someone who wouldn't try to publicly claim those boys in boast or jealousy. Someone who would keep their mouth shut and had no ambition of their own in regards to the throne. Do you really think Vaemond Velaryon (as I see him suggested a lot) would've kept his mouth shut? That he wouldn't have tried to use this to blackmail Rhaenyra and Laenor for more power and status? Do you think Rhaenys would have ever fought for or supported Rhaenyra if Rhaenyra had tried to have Corlys sire her children? And flying to see Daemon in Pentos and having a purely Valyrian child 9 months later would have made things look even more suspect.

Furthermore... she chose someone who cared for her deeply. Who clearly had a positive relationship with Laenor. She chose someone so she wouldn't have to traumatize herself- she took power over her body in a way almost no Westerosi woman has ever been able to. They were a family unit- Rhaenyra, Laenor, and Harwin. Those children were loved and cherished by two fathers and their mother. They were raised never doubting their mothers love, nor their father's- either father. They were raised and educated to be true, good princes of the realm.

Rhaenyra fought like hell for her children. She was an incredible mother. Yall just believe everything the Green faction says without looking at it critically, and that's unfortunate as hell.

[sunkissed-zegras]

ok maybe i lied, because i have 2 more um...... i have a lot of ideas anyways so

hear me out a 🥭 for the prompt [Impede - One person is attempting to get ready to go somewhere while the other kisses/touches/attempts to undress them all the while] and we all know i'm a caitlin girlie so i think we all know who i want....... i hope

- 🪐 (nexts one's gonna be the last i promise)

evangeline's 2.5k celebration !! [closed!]

─ warnings | no nsfw but kinda suggestive, i know u wanted smut but idk this is mostly sweet fluffiness (there's cait smut coming though), allusions to sex though

"BABY PLEASE," YOU sighed as caitlin's hands began to rub your waist, her hands snaking around it.

she was standing behind you, a smirk evident in her face as she maintained an innocent demeanor. her touch was soft and teasing, making it hard for you to focus on getting ready for the work event. you had been trying to choose the right outfit for the past half hour, and caitlin's playful interruptions were not helping.

"i really need to finish getting dressed," you said, trying to sound firm but unable to keep the amusement out of your voice as you met her gaze through the mirror. "i have to leave in like 30 minutes and you know how my boss feels about being on time,"

caitlin's fingers traced small circles on your stomach, sending shivers down your spine. "but you look so much hot like this," she murmured, her breath warm against your ear. "are you sure we can't be a little late?"

you turned to face her, your resolve weakening as you met her playful gaze. "you know how important this event is, right?"

she pouted, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "more important than spending some quality time with me?" her lips brushed against your neck, making you gasp softly.

"you, cait are a terrible distraction," you said, unable to stop a smile from spreading across your face. you gently pushed her hands away, though you lingered longer than necessary. "promise we'll have all the quality time you want after this, okay?"

caitlin sighed dramatically, but the smile on her face showed she was relenting. "fine, go be all professional and impressive. i'll just be here, waiting for you."

you quickly turned back to the mirror, trying to refocus on your task. as you adjusted your dress (the tight one you know caitlin loves), you couldn't help but glance at caitlin through the reflection. she was lounging on the bed, watching you with a look that made it clear she wasn't done with her teasing.

"okay," you said, straightening your back. "how do i look?"

caitlin sat up, her eyes raking over you appreciatively. "sexy, sexy and sexy. and like someone who's about to knock 'em dead at that event."

you laughed at her compliments, feeling your cheeks flush as you leaned down to give her a quick kiss, unable to resist. "thank you, baby. wish me luck?"

"you don't need luck. you've got this in the bag," caitlin smiled, her expression softening. "and i'll be waiting here for you, with the stra-"

"caitlin!" you laughed as she shrugged, plopping back on the bed with a smirk.

"what! you're gonna need a good celebration after, right?" caitlin teased as you gave her a mock pointed look, walking over to the dresser and grabbing your clutch (yes, the designer one she bought for you).

you smiled and blew her a kiss, "yeah, yeah."

caitlin laughed as she pretended to grab the air kiss and put it in her pocket. "bye, baby. i love you,"

"i love you too!"

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[woeswrites]

Yandere Will Graham

Warnings: Yandere themes, Obsessive behaviors, Brief mention of rape/rapist, Dubious consent (mention of sex while under the influence), etc.

Notes: I am trying to be active again (fingers crossed). Headcannons are a really easy way for me to get the creative juices flowing. Don't be surprised if a few more come out after this one lol.

You were a recent survivor of an attack

No, it wasn't the Chesapeake Ripper

It was just some other wannabe serial killer trying to get his rocks off

He had a dumb, stereotypical name too

The midnight slasher? midnight butcher?

Something like that

The media wasn't very creative with it

Whatever his name was, he'd clearly had a type

Young men

All of a similar stature

With the same hair and eye color

All known to known be up at all hours of the day

It was a pretty open and shut case in Will's eyes

He was a plain and simple lust killer

Most likely white and in his 30s-40s

Classic closet case turned homicidal

He hadn't seen why the FBI was so stumped on the whole thing

The only real trouble was the lack of DNA evidence

He'd been real good at cleaning up after himself

Will knew he'd slip up eventually

This wasn't the type of guy to be so well organized for long

Well--

Does being murdered by your most recent victim count as a slip up?

Because that's exactly what happened

He was called to the scene with the rest of the team

The sight of you trembling, covered in blood, and standing over top of that creep was his first impression

You met his eyes and he was unable to pull away

Something about your tear blotched face held him captive

Jack tasked him with asking you questions about the events at hand

Normally this would have annoyed Will

He wasn't the talking type

Let alone someone sensitive enough to make such a traumatized person feel comfortable

But something in him didn't mind so much

Maybe it was the way you looked so vulnerable

Or the fact that no matter how much he pushed the idea away, he saw himself in you

An innocent man turned murderer under the right circumstances

"I'm Will Graham and I'll be asking you some questions."

"God, okay. I'm Y/n. Can't really say it's nice to meet you."

Will tried to start off slow

Ask the basics before moving onto the more pertinent information

You'd answer to the best of your abilities (considering the circumstances)

It took Will a second to jot down your responses

He'd get a little too caught up in your features to notice you'd stop talking

"Sorry, what was that? You got off work at 9?"

There was something admirable about your attempts to infuse your story with a bit of dry humor

Likely a coping mechanism

But Will found himself smiling a bit at your quips

By the time he'd finish up with you he'd felt a little attachment form

Sure the case was over on his end

But it didn't stop him from asking Jack about you

At least a couple times a week

"How's things going with that self defense case? Y/n's...?"

Will showed up the next day with your case fill on his desk

The sticky note stuck to it warned about annoying Jack with too many questions

He'd spend all night re-reading the details

Without noticing he began slipping in and out of re-enactment mode

Imagining you on top of him

Knife in hand

Crazed look in your eyes

He tried to shake the image away

He shouldn't be doing this

It wasn't right

You could've died that night

His guilt ridden thoughts did nothing to lessen the tent that had formed in his pajama pants

He tried to push the idea of you out of his head

Usually he'd have more control over himself than this

His resolve was strong at first

He'd hidden the manila folder away in the depths of his lower drawer

Telling himself he'd drop it

That worked for a couple of days

That was before he started dreaming of you

Events that he hadn't preformed himself took ahold of him

He became your attacker that night

He chased you

He ripped apart your clothes

He was the one who you fought off

He's the one who you thrust that knife into

And he loved every second of it

Wait--

No, he couldn't

This was just his empathy disorder

Yeah!

He was just in character

This definitely wasn't him

He would never want to do any of that stuff

And he'd prove it

He had memorized that file from front to back at this point

It wouldn't be weird that he'd known your address

He was an FBI consultant

It was basically warranted

Will found himself picking out his best clothes that night

His newest jeans, tailored shirt, the works

Not for any particular reason

And his bed was definitely not littered with rejected articles of clothing

This was just going to be a simple checkup, it's not like it really mattered what he looked like

He showed up on your doorstep with the nicest bottle of wine he could find

"Will? Is that you?"

"Uh, yeah it is. Would I be able to come in?"

You welcomed him in, albeit a little confused

"I thought my case was cleared..."

"That's not what I'm here for. I just wanted to check in on you."

You smiled at this

And Will felt his heart ache

You'd invite him to join in on your sorry excuse for a dinner

He'd never accepted anything so fast before in his life

It didn't take long before the two of you got into the wine he'd brought

It was innocent enough at first

Just drinking and talking

You'd mention how life was after the attack

Will shared a little about his experience with GJH

Its the first time he had ever felt so utterly connected with another person before

But then the two of you got a little more than tipsy

And Will found himself leaning in

One kiss turned into another and another

Will felt a sense of static overtake him

Every touch between the two of you sent shivers up his spine

He felt the strong urge to consume

Before either of you knew it your clothes were now in a heap on the kitchen floor

You woke up the next morning with a splitting headache

Oh-- and an FBI agent in your bed

Shock was an understatement

That was when the memories of the previous night flooded back

Will woke up at the loss of warmth

Last night was the best he had slept in years

You wrapped tight in his arms, bodies perfectly intertwined

His heart sank at the look of regret on your face

"We definitely shouldn't have done that. I think you should leave Will..."

He couldn't just leave now

Not knowing what he did

That you two were made for one another

He'd try to calm you down

"Y/n let's talk about this."

You weren't having it

Mentioning how inappropriate this all was

You'd shove his clothes into his arms

Will tried to console you

Not realizing why you were so worked up

You both did just have the best night of your life after all

You'd back away but he'd continue approaching

"C'mon I know you don't really want me to go. Let's just take a second before we make any rash decisions"

"We aren't doing anything. I want you to go. Now."

Something about him coming over while you were still recovering from your distress and it all leading to this...

It just didn't feel right

Will tried to approach once more but you pushed him away

He couldn't help the smile that made its way onto his face

"Push me. Go on, make it hurt."

You were absolutely bewildered

He reached out and grabbed ahold of you

His grip was almost crushing

Like he was holding on for dear life

"I won't leave you alone that easily. Fate brought us together for a reason. You feel it too right? We're one in the same. We're each other's destiny."

He looked crazed, sweat slipping from his brow

It felt just like that night all over again

The knife in your hand as your attacker bled out

Only now Will took his place underneath you

[judysxnd]

I AM IN LOVE WITH YOUR WRITINGS ❤

Can I request a pedro × reader?

It's few months into the relationship and pedro , being a bad sleeper , one day woke up from a terrible nightmare . The reader is up so she calms him down and pedro hugs her and tell her ( I love you ) for the first time .

Thank you so so much❤️ it means SO much🥰 love the request, it’s going to be so intimate!! Hope you’ll like it!!

——————————————————————————————

Today has been a long day for Pedro. Waking up at 6am, driving an hour and half for the interviews to promote the last season of the Mandalorian, having lunch at almost 2pm, going to the gym after, and then an appointment with his agent. It was a pretty busy day. As for you, it was a normal work day.

He finally came back around 7:30. You were waiting for him in the living room, scrolling on social media. When you heard the door opening, you stopped what you were doing and went to see him.

“Hey baby” you said shyly, smiling

“Hi angel” his face lit up when he saw you. His movements were slow, kicking his shoes off and putting his stuff away. As he was very happy to finally be home and see you, he was extremely tired. It hit him as soon as he opened the door.

“You look tired” you said, going to hug him. His entire body relaxed as you wrapped your arms around him.

“I’m more than tired” he sighed, holding you tight.

“Yeah I bet you are. Are you also hungry? I was waiting for you”

“A little yeah”

“Uber?”

“Hell yeah. Too tired to cook anything”

“Okay. I’ll order, go take a shower, okay?” You slightly parted, looking at each other.

“You’re too good for me mama” he leaned down to kiss you.

So Pedro went to take his shower. He food arrived right after he joined you in the kitchen. You quietly enjoyed your food and went to bed right away, watching a movie. As you expected, five minutes into the movie and Pedro was dead asleep. You kept watching the movie, it was very interesting.

Trapped in a house. All exists are absolutely no use. The front door? Three steel bear traps. The two French windows in the back? Electric wires in front of them. The windows? Barriers blocking them. The only possible exit are the skylights, but the roof is too high, and it’s not discreet enough to escape the monster. Because yes, there is a monster chasing the man. Nonstop running, going from one hiding spot to another. Sweating, out of breath, unable to run properly, nothing to defend himself. The man goes in a roof, but the monster sees him, so he goes back inside. It’s too dangerous to jump. But there’s something missing. He wasn’t alone. He knows that his girlfriend is missing. He also feels that he is alone, no family anymore. Like they were all gone, they were not existing anymore. The pics on the wall show no face except for the man. He still remembers everything, but- but the pictures? He is alone. Faces erased. What is happening? Oh no, the monster is close. He can hear his heavy breathing. Will he see him in the closet? Oh- yes he did. He swung the door opened. The monster growls, and is about to throw his hands on the man.

Suddenly Pedro wakes up screaming, heavily breathing. It scared you. You sat up next to him, caressing his back, holding his hand

“Wh-What happened?” Pedro asks, still shocked.

“It was a nightmare Pedrito, it’s okay, it’s not real”

“It-It” he paused a second, catching his breath “it felt so real” he put his hands on his face.

“It was not”

“Everyone was-” he couldn’t even say it

“It’s okay, look at me” you put your hand in his cheek, turning his head so that he would look at you. “Look at me, you feel this?” You said touching his hand, his arm, his face. “I’m real, it’s real” you said, making him look around you. He looked at you, not saying anything. You could see his chest moving a lot has he was still out of breath. He suddenly hugged you. “See? I’m real” you added again, hands on his back.

“It was awful, I can’t even describe it”

“Then don’t. Just know that it’s not real. I’m here. I’m real, you’re real.”

“I love you so much” you heard him say. You were surprised, for sure you didn’t expect it. It was the first time either of you said it. Being only together for a few months, it is expectable. You felt butterfly in your stomach. There he was, in pure shock, and saying I love you. It was the purest moment. You let go of him, staring at him, your hands on his cheeks.

“I love you too” you kissed for some time. “Come on, let’s go back to sleep” you turned the tv off. You started to lay down on your side, but Pedro grabbed you.

“Can’t sleep without feeling you corazón, you’re the one keeping me sane” you turned to face him

“I’m not going anywhere.. cariño” he smiled. You hold his hand. “It was just a nightmare. This- This is real” you snuggled right to him, and both fell asleep.

[superman86to99]

Superman/Doomsday: Hunter/Prey #2 (May 1994)

At last, we find out Doomsday's secret origin! And then kinda wish we didn't, because it's pretty gnarly. In fact, this might be the most disturbing character origin in all of DC Comics, including Vertigo and that "Dark Multiverse" thing they were doing a while back.

But, before getting to Doomsday, Superman has to deal with the mess he left in Apokolips last issue. Thanks to Doomsday's rampage, the Cyborg Superman has taken over the planet and plans to turn it into a new Warworld so he can take it around the universe, conquering other worlds. Yes, he wants to turn the worst planet in existence even worse.

The Cyborg has easily taken care of Darkseid's Parademons by transmitting a frequency that melts their brains. But where's Darkseid himself? He was last seen taking a good beating from Doomsday, and when Superman runs into him, he's... not in great shape.

"DARKSEID IS. TIRED."

Superman is briefly tempted to leave Darkseid to die, but he ends up dragging him to safety and using the Mother Box he borrowed last issue to heal him, because Superman gonna Superman. Just when Superman is lamenting the fact that he doesn't have enough time to go back to Earth for help, Waverider shows up... only to instantly remind Superman that he can't help, due to his sacred vow as a protector of the timestream.

Superman, however, basically tells Waverider to nut up or shut up and use his temporal powers to give him helpful information about Doomsday. Waverider finally succumbs to Superman's bullying and shows him a vision of a "distant planet" circa 250,000 years ago. The planet seems to be uninhabited except for some spiky monsters who kill anything in their sight and a group of scientists inside a reinforced dome. The leader of the scientists is an alien called Bertron who is obsessed with creating "the ultimate form of life" by any means necessary. Including, we soon find out, baby murder.

Following Bertron's orders, the scientists launch an alien baby into the hostile atmosphere and just sit by and watch while the spiky monsters tear it apart in seconds. Then, they scare the monsters away with their weapons, send someone out there to scoop up whatever's left of the baby, clone a new infant from that DNA, and repeat the whole process.

After 20 years of doing that every day, the baby has evolved to the point that it now takes minutes to be torn apart instead of seconds. Also, it's now considerably uglier.

Within 30 years, some of the scientists are starting to show reservations about working at the baby murdering factory, but the progress is undeniable. By now, the baby (more like a large bald dude) is able to survive in the hostile environment indefinitely and actually fights back against the spiky monsters... who kill him every time anyway, but still. Progress!

An indeterminate number of decades pass, and the "baby" has turned into a big, hulking creature that Bertron calls "The Ultimate." The minutes of survival have stretched into full years as the Ultimate walks across the planet hunting the spiky monsters until none are left. Bertron is ecstatic that his creation has finally become an unkillable killing machine. So... what now? Well, suffer an ironic death at its hands, of course, because it turns out Doomsday remembers the thousands of deaths Bertron put him through.

According to Waverider's narration, Doomsday might have wiped out all life in that planet if he hadn't stumbled upon Bertron's supply ship. He ended up bouncing through the universe like a murderous ping pong ball, until he reached a planet called Calaton, whose royal family had gained metahuman abilities through the amazing power of inbreeding (that's not a joke about royal families, that's in the comic!).

After years of being unable to stop Doomsday, Calaton's royals gave up their lives to form an energy being called the Radiant, who looks like Silver Surfer but powered by cousin porking (miraculously, he seems to have all his limbs). It took a week of fighting and an explosion that destroyed a fifth of Calaton, but the Radiant finally managed to kill Doomsday. Unfortunately, the Calatonians have a strange custom that says they can't destroy the bodies of planet-killing aliens and must instead dress them up in gimp suits...

...and launch them into space, which is how Doomsday ended up crashing into Earth in that capsule he finally escaped in Man of Steel #18. This concludes Waverider's presentation.

Back in the present, Darkseid wakes up from his healing nap just in time to recognize that the Cyborg has launched some missiles at Apokolips' food pens to starve the population, because that's what he'd do too. Superman doesn't feel great about teaming up with Darkseid, but he'd feel even worse if innocents died, so he slows down the missiles while Darkseid gets rid of them with his Omega Beams. Darkseid tries to Omega Beam the Cyborg away, too, but he actually survives the blast (that's two people who CAN "withstand the unsurpassed force of the Omega Beams" in as many issues).

Although the Omega Beam hurt him, the Cyborg uses surrounding machinery to repair himself and, while at it, become a giant mecha. Superman hits him with the full force of his heat vision...

...but once again, eye lasers prove ineffective against the Cyborg, since he just rebuilds himself again, even bigger this time. Darkseid, however, claims he was still recuperating from Doomsday's beating before, but he's in tip-top shape now -- and proves it by hitting Giant Mecha-Cyborg with the REAL strength of the Omega Beams, completely disintegrating him. Sorry for doubting you, eye lasers.

With the Cyborg out of the picture, Darkseid thanks Superman for his help by telling him to get off his planet and go chase Doomsday wherever he is. Deesad reveals where he teleported Doomsday to last issue: Calaton, the planet where they already beat him once, figuring they can just do it again -- but Waverider points out that it's exactly the opposite. Because of Bertron and his gang of baby killers, whenever something kills Doomsday, he evolves to surpass it... which means Superman has no chance against him, either.

Everyone present agrees that Superman is pretty much screwed, but Superman says he doesn't care... while his inner narration shows the opposite. In fact, he's terrified, but he's still going after Doomsday to stop him or re-die trying. TO BE CONCLUDED!

Beard-Watch:

It's coming back! You know a Superman story is getting intense when he hasn't had time to shave in a while.

Don Sparrow points out that Superman's "tough guy stubble" seems to come out of nowhere after Waverider's flashback sequence, but I can think of two explanations for that: A) Superman was affected by some minor chronal energy that caused him to age extra fast, at least around the face, or B) that was a long-ass flashback sequence.

Plotline-Watch:

Okay, disregard what I said last time about this miniseries being hard to place in the continuity: Superman explicitly says he's "stronger" and "better" before blasting the Cyborg with his heat vision, so this is definitely happening during the "super-charged powers" storyline. The only hitch is that this is supposed to be taking place during the period when Superman was constantly breaking things and shooting off his heat vision without meaning to, and there's nothing like that here, but that's for the best because 1) that stuff got pretty annoying and 2) minis like this work better if they're not that tied to the ongoing plotlines. No one wants to see five pages of Jimmy Olsen trying to renew his driving license in the middle of a Doomsday fight.

One reason Waverider decides to get off his ass and help out is that he remembers the time he had to watch Superman get beaten to death without doing anything, so he kinda owed it to him. That happened in The Legacy of Superman #1.

There are a couple of references to Armageddon 2001, the 1991 crossover that introduced Waverider: he mentions he was an "activist" before he became a golden being with a flaming head (he even vandalized a statue of Monarch, his original timeline's super-dictator) and when he shows Doomsday's origin to Superman, we see the same psychedelic effect shown in Armageddon whenever he'd touch a superhero to snoop into their future.

What isn't referenced is the time Superman lived in Apokolips for a while, first as an amnesiac anti-Darkseid revolutionary and then as his mind-controlled "son" (in 1987's Legends crossover), but that's understandable since all those memories were wiped from his mind at the end of that storyline.

Did Darkseid really kill the Cyborg, as Superman seems to think? Nah. We'll find out what really happened soon enough.

Waverider's narration claims that, after Doomsday left that unnamed planet where he was created, the natives found Bertron's lab and became obsessed with genetic experimentation, "sending them down the path of a unique and disastrous future." On that note, Don Sparrow says: "I love the detail on page 27, explaining that had he stayed, Doomsday would have killed the entire planet. It’s like, who cares about some random planet?" Yeah, why are they giving us so much detail about that place?! Weird.

Patreon-Watch:

Our latest Patreon-exclusive article was about Steel Annual #1, an Elseworlds story set during the Civil War that, coincidentally, also features dead kids as a major plot point (Superman writers were in a dark mood in 1994, huh). Read that and more by joining Aaron, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Kit, Sam, Bol, and Gaetano Barreca at https://www.patreon.com/superman86to99!

Also join me in reading more from Don Sparrow, after the jump...

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

On one hand, the concept of each of the covers just being a step by step sequence of the two main characters streaking into battle has a certain power and simplicity. But on the other hand, there’s little to differentiate them (particularly these first two) and it can feel a bit repetitive.  Another detraction is that the computer generated background on the last issue looked like a wall of flame, but shifting the colour to green just looks like a tie-dye pattern, which doesn’t make sense for the story. Still:  Great drawings of both characters.

The first few pages are another good showcase of Jurgens’ unique very tall panel layout, and while it’s mostly exposition (helped a lot by the gradient colour background representing the timestream) there are a few interesting, if odd details about Vanishing Point.  First, what the hell is that pediment on the window of Vanishing point?  It looks a little like Legion villain Validus, but not perfectly so.  Secondly, it’s so eccentric that the time viewer Waverider looks at here is an animated piece of parchment, complete with feather quill pen.

Further along the silhouetted image of an injured Darkseid is very cool.  The colouring is a real star throughout, but I particularly like the gold rim lighting on the red metal of the Cyborg’s face.

As we see Doomsday’s origins, it’s interesting to see how Bertron ages.  He looks like a malevolent E.T.!

The image revealing Doomsday’s final form is a classic, even if he’s starkers.  They also can’t seem to keep his physiognomy straight—if he’s solid mass with no organs, why does he need a belly button?  The ink spatters indicating his killing blow of Bertron are a restrained way of showing something gory is happening.

Calaton looks a lot like the fake Krypton from Adventures of Superman #500, though there’s a lot of nice design that went into a fairly short section of the book.  It’s funny that a story featuring Hank Henshaw, himself an alternate take on Mister Fantastic, would birth the Radiant, who visually is virtually indistinguishable from The Silver Surfer, who also made his debut in Fantastic Four comics. [Max: Ha! They should have brought Inbred Silver Surfer back for the Superman/Fantastic Four crossover featuring the Cyborg...]

Explaining the containment suit and metallic block where we first find Doomsday is a nice touch. 

We talked in a previous review about how Image-comics-inspired the colouring is on this mini-series, but how badass Superman looks throughout is also vaguely reminiscent of Image titles at the time.  The cross-hatching and tough guy stubble appearing (quite suddenly—he had none before his Waverider trance!) makes Superman look pretty tough-as-nails. However later in the book as Superman flies off to confront the Cyborg, his face shows so much concentration he begins to look vaguely like Manny Pacquiao—so you know it’s gonna be a good fight!  

The image of the Cyborg shaking like a ragdoll upon the impact of the Omega beams is a great, electric effect.  The single panel the most similar to Image comics must be on page 43 where Superman’s eyes glow red before blasting the Cyborg’s rebuilt body away.  While the “eyes glow red because he’s mad” effect is done to death today, when this was published, it was rare enough to be pretty exciting.  Darkseid’s march, and dialogue is pretty awesome as he takes care of the threat of the Cyborg Superman.  In that way, this is an odd issue—Superman has almost no effect on the outcome.  It’s Waverider who fills Superman in on Doomsday’s origins, and it’s Darkseid who destroys the missiles, AND dispatches the Cyborg Superman.  I suppose none of that would be possible without Superman’s mercy, helping Darkseid heal, but Superman mostly stands around watching the action in this issue.  Lastly, Waverider on page 46 looks a lot like Arnold Schwarzenegger, and it’s fun to think of his thick Austrian accent trying to make its way around all the timestream techno-jargon Waverider spouts. [Max: "Get to da Vanishing Point!"]

SPEEDING BULLETS:

Wait, did the Cyborg just flat out kill Desaad?  I guess not, but it was a cool line. [Max: He's alive by the end of the issue, but wasn't there a story that revealed Darkseid is constantly killing and recreating Deesad? Maybe he did that off-panel.]

Do you agree with Superman’s hectoring Waverider about giving him information from his unique knowledge of the timestream?  Superman would have some trouble with the old Prime Directive if he were in Starfleet.

Kinda nuts that the female scientist waited THIRTY YEARS to voice her objection to killing an infant all day every day!  There’s a lot of unanswered questions about these scientists.  What are they paid?  Do they get time off? [Max: I always got the impression that these scientists were aliens too, but this time I noticed Bertron says "this world of yours" to them... So I guess they're meant to be [SPOILERS] Kryptonians, from a habitable part of the planet? Their clothes do match the wardrobe in the early parts of World of Krypton, especially that one lady's earrings. Knowing their race, they probably did it just for the love of science... and launching babies.]

I find myself interested in “the beasts” that Doomsday combats while he’s developing.  We’ve never seen them before, or since in any stories set on… that particular planet. [Max: Same here. I like their cartoonish look, too. DC Nation should have done some Roadrunner-type shorts featuring Baby Doomsday escaping the spiky monsters and dying in some wacky new way every week!]

Page 23 they kind of bury the lede, just casually mentioning that if killed, Doomsday revives, evolved past whatever killed it.  That’s a pretty insane power level.

Bertron getting murdered by his creation was actually a pretty good metaphor for Krypton’s scientific community—coldly experimenting for science’s sake, with no thought to the consequence they may face in the future.  More on that in the next issue.

What kind of food do the food pens hold?  Like grain and stuff? [Max: Didn't a Darkseid-themed cereal box show up as a variant cover recently? Yep, found it. It's probably that.]

Everyone--hero and villain--all telling Superman he will for sure lose to Doomsday has to be a knock to his confidence!

[cherrychilli]

It’s the way I haven’t stopped thinking about painting Steve all day. I must know- is it a midnight thing when he comes out? Can I move to somewhere with minimal sun hours to have him out all of the time? Does he get to stay longer in the winter (I would be in libraries, on Reddit, calling every conspiracy theorist…)

Jazz, I'm so pleased to have you aboard the painting! Steve train💛

Putting this under a cut just incase anyone's yet to read that drabble because mild spoilers.

Okay so first of all I have to confess something. As much as I'd love to have everything meticulously planned out before I begin writing, I am very much a 'make it up as I go' kind of writer at my core. I know I know, I'm not happy about it either but I just can't shake it so I've decided to stop fighting it.

BUT, okay so yes, I've established that midnight is usually when Steve's able to leave his canvas but as we saw in the fic, nothing's really set in stone because not only was he unable to come out for an entire week, he even arrives late when he's finally able to leave the canvas again. So honestly, I don't see why you couldn't try something like hauling him over to one of those parts of Alaska where it's dark for like 60+ days or something. Kind of like the vampires from 30 Days of Night now that I think about it. Definitely worth a shot in my opinion.

There's still so much both Steve and reader have to learn about him and his special circumstances that's for sure. If I end up writing more about him I'd like to consider how he and reader can build a life together despite all the limitations they'll have to work around. Or maybe one free from them entirely. Who knows. There might just be a way to get him out of that painting for good. Just spitballing here.

I hope I've managed to half answer your questions, Jazz. Thank you so much for reading and for showing painting! Steve some love😊

[kala-basaa]

i have a question

do you even plan on doing a bundle order type thing with the rings/bracelets? like getting all of them on one order/listing on etsy?

you did a great job with them, they looks so cute and cool! {that's partially why i'm asking because they all look great and i want them all but my wallet will hate me if i do it}

Hi there! 👋 You're my second ever ask on here 😌✌️ Thanks for stopping by!

So, to answer your question briefly, no. I do not plan to put all the rings and bracelets into a single listing. But this is for good reason, I promise!

Firstly, it would be redundant to add all the rings and bracelets into one listing as I already offer bundle deals on each individual listing (i.e. the SDJ Collection with the main cast has an option in both the bracelet and ring listings to get one of each boy at a discounted price).

Also, it, unfortunately, costs a bit extra to make these listings as well as format them properly to show up in the correct categories on Etsy.

Secondly, I mentioned that I offer options in each of the listings to get one of each boy at a discounted price.

Typically, each bracelet I make costs $14.50 while each ring costs $7.50. If you select that you want ALL the boys in that collection, these are marked at a discounted price.

For reference, here's some screenshots of those prices as they show up in my shop ✌️

The full base price of buying 4 bracelets would be $58 while it would be $30 for 4 rings. On these listings, I offer the 4 bracelets for $50 while the rings I offer for $26. That's about 13% off the full base price for each accessory type.

I also run two separate sales in my shop to help with costs as well.

One of them is that there is 📦Free Shipping (Domestic only)📦 for orders over $50 PLUS 13% off your entire purchase if you order 2 or more items from my shop.

So, hypothetically speaking, ordering one of each boy from the main cast, rings and bracelets, would cost $88 for the full base price.

But using the discount price I offer for both accessory types would bring the price down to $76.

Plus the added 13% discount from ordering 2 or more items would apply as well, making the final total to $66.12 before taxes PLUS free shipping.

I know my prices aren't ideal for everyone, but these are the prices that work for me while also giving buyers a chance to save a bit of money along the way. I try my best to be as accommodating as I can for everyone.

Please note that the materials I use to make these accessories are of high quality! The metal findings on the bracelets (clasps, chain, etc.) are all made from stainless steel while the beads I use are either Japanese or Czech glass from name/designer brands (kind of crazy how there's designer name brands for beads of all things). These materials don't come cheap and are factored into the cost of each item accordingly.

I apologize if this is still rather expensive for anyone who is interested in purchasing the entire collection. Unfortunately, I am unable to modify the prices to be even lower lest I risk experiencing a loss on my end.

I really do appreciate you reaching out about this as it allows me to break the costs down for those who are curious about that process. I hope this answers your question and provides a bit more insight!

- Kala 🧡

[selfieignite]

2014 KoreAm magazine photoshoot and cover story of John Cho.

John Cho Delights in Rom-Com Role in ABC’s ‘Selfie’

October 28, 2014

In the new ABC rom-com Selfie, John Cho goes where no Asian American actor has gone before.

story by ADA TSENG photography by JACK BLIZZARD

John Cho can’t stop raving about how he got to ride a horse for his new TV show Selfie.

“About a month ago, [creator] Emily [Kapnek] came to me and said, ‘We’re writing a storyline where you’re riding a horse. Can you ride a horse?’” remembers Cho. “And I said, ‘I can’t, but you have to keep that in. I’ll learn.’”

Turns out he only needed one lesson to gallantly ride a horse for a scene that’s a play on the familiar knight-inshining- armor trope.

“Apparently, I’m a natural,” he jokes. Why hasn’t anyone asked him to ride a horse before? “That’s a good question!” he says. “Now I get to put it on the resume as a special skill.”

Cho plays Henry to Karen Gillan’s Eliza in ABC’s new half-hour comedy Selfie, which premiered on September 30. The show borrows the premise of the 1964 musical My Fair Lady, based on the 1916 play Pygmalion, transplanting the characters from early-1900s’ status-obsessed England to 2014’s Internet-obsessed America. Selfie’s pilot introduces Eliza Dooley (a nod to Eliza Doolittle) as a social media star with millions of virtual friends but no actual friends. One day, after she is publicly humiliated by a boyfriend whom she didn’t realize was married, she sees a presentation by her co-worker Henry Higgs (shortened from Higgins), who is a talented marketing expert at their pharmaceutical company. He also happens to hate everything about the wired millennial generation. Convinced she needs to be rebranded, Eliza begs Henry to help her change her image.

Though the Henry character in the film, played by Rex Harrison, looks down on Audrey Hepburn’s Eliza, the Selfie team wanted to make sure their modern Henry was influenced by Eliza just as much as Eliza is “transformed” by him. Though Henry confidently takes on the challenge to make her into a less self-absorbed person, in the process, she also teaches him that all work and no play is no way to live a fulfilling life. (“What’s more irresistible than opposites being thrown together?” says Cho.) Their modern take is less about external behaviors — manners and proper elocution — and more about internal values: learning to empathize and live in the present, instead of being constantly glued to one’s smart phone.

Perhaps because My Fair Lady and Pygmalion take place in England, the character of Henry was originally envisioned as an older English man. However, when the casting directors were having challenges finding the right person for the role, Cho’s name was suggested. (“We looked at tons of different actors, and really, once we kind of opened our minds and said let’s get off of what we think Henry is supposed to be and just talk about who he is — we just need a brilliant actor — and John’s name came up,” Kapnek told The Toronto Star.)

And it turns out there was no reason the 21st-century Henry couldn’t be Korean American.

“John and I actually met at a table read for the first episode of Selfie,” remembers Gillan, well-known to audiences for her roles in Doctor Who and Guardians of the Galaxy. “So in essence, we met in character. As soon as John began to deliver Henry’s lines, everything came to life. He breathed life into the character, and through that, into my character, too. It was really exciting.”

But back to the horse. “The character of Henry has been taking horseriding lessons surreptitiously for three years on the chance that he’d be invited up to his boss’s ranch,” explains Cho. “And he’s frustrated because he’s trying to impress his boss, but he keeps getting thwarted and is unable to show off his equestrian prowess.” He pauses. “But the point of the story is that John Cho got to ride a horse!” He laughs. “In fact, I got a little too obsessed with the horse. I was probably not a good actor that day because I was too excited about the horse.”

For Cho, it was more than the fact that riding a horse was fun. As an Asian American actor in Hollywood — even a successful one whose almost twodecades-long career has spanned indie films (Shopping for Fangs, Better Luck Tomorrow), mainstream comedies (Harold & Kumar, American Pie) and sci-fi classics (Star Trek) — Cho says he doesn’t often get to participate in stories that involve what he calls “American mythology.” He feels that Asian Americans mostly get shut out of Hollywood stories depicting this country’s history, unless they’re Chinese railroad workers or launderers. He racks his brain, trying to think if he’s ever seen an Asian American guy ride a horse on TV before. Though he loves Westerns, he knows it’s unlikely he’d be cast in one.

But never say never. How likely was it that he would become this generation’s Henry Higgins?

At this year’s Television Critics Association Summer Press Tour, as he was promoting the show, Cho called his casting as an Asian American male lead in a romantic comedy TV series “revolutionary,” a word he regrets using in retrospect. It was an offhand comment, but the media ran with it.

He’d rather point people’s attention to the fact that, during the panel, there were many questions about Scottish co-star Gillan having to speak in an American accent, but no questions about them as an interracial couple.

He was surprised, but relieved. Normally, he’d not only be prepared to talk about his race, but also have a strategy to steer away from it, so that his Asian-ness didn’t dominate the conversation, especially for a project like Selfie, which has a multicultural cast, but doesn’t harp on the characters’ ethnic backgrounds. There were only two Asian references in the pilot. The first was about how Henry’s eccentric boss Sam (played by Homeland’s David Harewood) thought it was OK to kiss Henry on the mouth as a greeting because he read an article on the web called “Kissing Koreans: Greenlight!” — which, because it was actually more of a joke about the boss’ inappropriate touching and the fact that the Internet is full of lies, could have easily been a “Kissing Europeans: Greenlight!” joke left over from when they envisioned Henry as British. The second, which eventually got cut and transplanted into a future script, had Henry insisting his friendship with Eliza is completely platonic and joking that a red-headed Korean would definitely make an ugly baby.

Selfie isn’t trying to comment on racial issues in America; it’s aiming to be a clever workplace comedy with a “will-they-or-won’t-they?” couple at the center of the hijinks. And from the outset, it seems like ABC is banking on their new show by Kapnek, who recently helmed the ABC comedy Suburgatory. Selfie advertisements seem to be everywhere, from eye-catching billboards along major freeways to the cover of the fall TV insert of Los Angeles magazine, to the top of the popular IMDB.com movie database homepage. It also says a great deal that Selfie was given the Tuesday 8 p.m. time slot, the only new ABC show that’s been tasked with leading the day’s prime-time block of programming.

In another marketing move, ABC released the pilot online over a month early to get the buzz going, a strategy that Cho thinks is related to the public’s initial ambivalence over the show’s title. “The word ‘selfie’ has so much baggage,” says Cho. “It’s provocative, which is why I liked it, but the word implies narcissism, so there was a disinclination to like the show. People had to be convinced it was a real show.”

But Cho doesn’t seem worried. “I think the work speaks for itself.”

The Selfie crew is gathered at the Warner Bros. lot in Burbank on a Wednesday morning in September, using Cho and Gillan stand-ins to prepare for the first shot.

In the maze of different sets — the pharmaceutical offices, cubicles, hallway, bathroom and apartment spaces — the production team watching the monitors can’t necessarily see John Cho, but they can hear him. He’s belting out a song in the background before he gets ready to shoot his scene. Cho’s known for being goofy on set. While shooting the pilot, he had Gillan laughing whenever he pulled out his phone and blasted Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.”

Gillan and Cho’s onscreen chemistry is apparent, therefore the tension that arises from keeping their characters apart is irresistible. In the episode they’re shooting, Henry has started dating a very proper, clean-cut “gentlewoman,” as he calls her (a female version of himself played by actress Allison Miller), and Eliza, despite the fact that she has a boy toy of her own, seems to be a little jealous. She’s hurt that Henry didn’t tell her he was dating somebody. In his defense, it just happened 10 minutes ago, he says. But I tell you every single detail about my love life, she argues. A habit I’m desperately trying to break you of, he banters back.

There are certain images in television and movies that we see so often that they border on cliché — girl likes boy, boy likes girl, but they can’t admit it, so they bicker instead and somehow get stuck in the glistening rain together — yet minority actors who are usually relegated to supporting roles don’t often get to play these arcs.

“It’s funny,” says Cho. “I’ve had to do romantic scenes in my career” — he’s been paired with Paula Garces in the Harold & Kumar trilogy and Gabrielle Union in the 2009 ABC science-fiction drama FlashForward —“but by far, they’re the minority of the things that I do. But in life and in movies, I’ve seen it so many times. [Romantic scenes] are in almost everything! So I had a sense of how things should go, what the beats should be, and that’s not informed by what I’ve done as an actor, but what I’ve seen as a viewer. It was new and unfamiliar, but familiar at the same time.”

Back in 2009, in interviews promoting the release of Harold & Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay, Cho often talked about the fact that he thinks about the Asian American community with every role he chooses.

Five years later, does this pressure still weigh on him? “When I was first starting out, it was a lot of rejecting stuff,” he says. “Saying ‘I’m not going to do that sh-t, these ching-chongy roles, even though I had no place to be turning things down. In the middle part of my career, I became more aware that people were aware of me — Asian Americans in particular. And sometimes it almost felt like I was bullied, how burdened I was by what Asian Americans might think of me.”

Though Asian America may feel like we have a stake in his career, for better or worse, Cho says it sometimes feels like we have a disproportionate amount of influence on him. With the diverse fan base of both the Harold & Kumar and Star Trek franchises, he finds that the majority of fans that come up to him on the streets are not Asian.

“I’m trying to come at it from a more authentic place,” he says. “Selfie would be an example of me reading the script and thinking, ‘I don’t think I’ve seen an Asian guy in this particular kind of role.’ It personally touched a nerve, and I took delight in it.”

Another unique aspect of Selfie that Cho enjoys is the language, which he calls “a mix of old Hollywood screwball dialogue, meets arcane English, meets hashtag jargon.” In addition to snappy rhythms, rhymes and couplets mixed into the characters’ repartee, Eliza is constantly talking in a mix of LOLs, Internet lingo and pop culture references. (“At the beginning I made a decision Eliza would talk like she’s on a lot of coffee,” says Gillan. “Now I’m regretting that.”) Whereas Henry is more proper, referring to dating as “courting” and feeling the need to airquote Eliza’s suggestion that he needs to “get some,” emphasizing his distaste for casually lewd slang that comes out of his mouth so unnaturally.

“I’ve never had this kind of dialogue in my life,” says Cho, of this elevated language that’s often the domain of theater. “Henry sometimes feels like he was educated abroad, like at a Swiss boarding school.”

Though Cho may be less uptight than his character, he seems to share a similar crankiness about social media.

“Every minute I spend on Twitter feels like a waste of time emotionally,” he says, balking at the idea that increasing one’s Klout score in this day and age may actually be a smart career move. After all, even though Cho, and therefore his character, doesn’t look a day over 30, in real life, one could argue he, at 42, is at least one technological generation over the millennials who talk in OMGs while updating their Instagrams with overfiltered selfies.

The married father of two harkens back to the good ol’ days, when instead of judging quality through Facebook likes and retweets, good criticism was valued “in the way a poet can give voice to how much you love a woman.” He refers to Jonathan Franzen’s condemnation of Facebook as a private hall of flattering mirrors. He brings up Noam Chomsky’s media documentary Manufacturing Consent to explain how “it’s impossible to tell the truth in a two-minute news story, so you start at failure and end at worse failure. And I felt like Twitter was an extreme example of this.”

However, his involvement with Selfie has softened his stance against social media.

“I see young people who are very self-expressive in a way that I couldn’t have even grasped at that age,” says Cho. “I saw an Ariana Grande tweet, where she had typed out some emotions on her iPhone after her grandfather passed away, taken a picture of it, and tweeted it out to her followers. It was so fresh and emotional, a way of sharing a Polaroid of her state at that time. So maybe Twitter is proving me wrong.” He hesitates. “But I don’t know. I can’t go there. I’m a private person. Even interviews are an exercise in avoiding revealing anything about myself that’s real, and I dislike that these are the new rules of fame, that you must reveal more than you wish.”

So, now that he’s tweeting more, how has he reconciled his aversion to social media? “I haven’t,” he claims, though it seems like he’s found a strategy that works for him. Cho’s Twitter is filled with funny photos that seem to give fans a glimpse into his personal life, but if you look closer, he’s found a way to make jokes while still keeping his social media existence predominantly work-related. His profile photo of him in a beard and twirly mustache is from a Selfie promo that’s yet to air. A photo where he jokes that he’s styling K-pop hair is a wig he’s wearing on the set before it was styled properly. And there’s Gillan’s Ice Bucket Challenge video, where he makes a cameo as an official ice thrower dressed in a Red Power Ranger outfit—“Very important role,” jokes Gillan, “his best one to date” — and further highlights their onscreen appeal to the masses.

And, of course, there’s a Twitpic of Willow, the white steed.

“[John] actually was great with the horse,” Gillan confirms reluctantly. “I audibly gasped when I first saw him riding towards me. It was a sight to behold. But don’t tell him I said that.”

[x] [x]

[purplesong1028]

A Forest Tale

Chapter 3: Body and Soul

Fantasy, AU, !Fox Pacho, !Shapeshifter Pacho

Rating: General Audience

Paring: Chepe/Pacho

Words: 2,919

They drive out of downtown Cali and back into the mountains, with a dozen bags of new human clothes on the backseat. Pacho peeks at them from the rear mirror. Do humans need so many clothes because they can get dirty, or because they want to look good? If someone already looks great, do they need fewer pieces of clothing, or will they want more?

Chepe takes another turn deep into an area of thick forest. It’s unbelievable how fast the car can go. If he were to come to this area as a fox, it’d take him days, but it takes less than 30 minutes with a car.

“Remember the thing I told you earlier?”

“Sure, which one? I remember everything.” He knows humans can forget a lot of things, but he doesn’t. In fact, his powers make him unable to forget.

“We were supposed to go somewhere else, before the whole clothes issue came up.”

“Right, you need me to do something with my magic?”

“Yeah, and here we are!”

They pull over next to a dirty, old building, and the guards give him a slightly suspicious glance as they open the heavy metal door for Chepe. This building feels very different from Chepe’s house: dark, chilly, with an unpleasant smell of blood and mold. Pacho carefully keeps his distance from the wall, so his new human clothes don’t get tainted.

“Come, this way!” Chepe leads him downstairs. “So this mind thing that you do, how does it work exactly? Can you just read someone’s brain?”

“Not exactly.” Pacho tries to find the correct terms. Sometimes there’s simply no human words to explain what he can or cannot do. “I can’t tell what you’re thinking right now, every second, as it happens. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah that’s fine, I don’t need you to do that. What about someone’s past? Can you tell?” They make a few more turns, stopping in front of a rusted door by the end of a narrow corridor.

“The entire past? I can, but it would take days for me to tell you someone’s life.”

“No, not the entire past!” Chepe laughs frustratedly. “You see, I need to ask this guy some questions, yeah? I just need to know if he’s telling the truth.”

“Oh! Then yes, that’s very easy to do.”

“Excelente!” Chepe opens the large lock and pushes the door open.

Inside the dark cell is a man tied up to a chair. His clothes are ripped, stained with dirt and dry blood. His face is all bruised up and swollen; the right eye barely opens as he looks at them.

“Come on then! Show me your magic.”

“Did you do this to him because he didn’t tell you the truth?” Pacho turns to look at Chepe in genuine surprise— the same person who made him breakfast and took him shopping just a few hours ago.

Chepe holds his stare in a candid yet slightly amused expression. “Is that a problem?”

“I mean, is this usually what humans do to other humans when they aren’t honest? That’s…a bit strange.”

“Oh, no! We lie all the time, but this situation is a bit more complicated.” Chepe locks the rusty door again behind them. “Look, you said you wanted to try alcohol later, right? We have all the time for questions then. How about we just finish up here, so we can skip to the good part, hm?”

Pacho doesn’t really like that tone. He can’t say exactly why, but he’s seen how humans speak to their young children, and weirdly, Chepe reminds him of that right now.

“Ok, you just want him to answer your questions truthfully. That’s it?”

“Yup.”

“Do you need him alive after that?”

That seems to take Chepe by surprise for a brief moment. “Why? Whatever you do, does it kill him?”

“No, but if you don’t need him alive, can I eat his soul afterwards?”

“What?! Wait you…what?” The way Chepe shouts his words is almost identical to yesterday, when Pacho first turned into a human.

“Right. You know I don’t need to eat food, and I get my energy in other ways, sí?” Pacho can’t help but smile as he explains. It’s very interesting, because every single person they have interacted with today seems to hold some respect, and even fear for Chepe, but he doesn’t see why. He doesn’t find him that scary at all.

“Basically, human’s soul is a great source of energy, if I can have it.”

“Um…sure, help yourself, I guess.” Chepe shrugs, still looking a bit shocked at the new discovery. “Only after he speaks.”

“Of course.”

Pacho walks over to the man, who’s silently staring up at him, more confused than terrified. Right, he and Chepe just had the soul eating conversation right in front of him.

Well, it doesn’t matter now. He locks their eyes. “Relax, this doesn’t hurt.”

He loves eyes. Doesn’t matter what they look like: blue or dark, tiny or large. They’re beautiful little round doors leading directly to the minds behind them, and minds… Minds are the most fascinating thing about humans.

Pacho doesn’t know how exactly he does it, and he can’t explain or teach it even if he wanted to. It’s like he’s simultaneously at two places: standing right in front of the man in this room, but also inside of his brain, surrounded by all his memories, thoughts and emotions.

“I’m in. Ask whatever you want.”

*

“The fire at our warehouse three days ago, you started it, right?”

“Yes.”

There’s silence. The man isn’t saying anything more because that was a yes or no question, and he already answered. Pacho looks over at Chepe, who’s staring right back at him, and that’s when he realizes Chepe’s actually waiting for him to confirm before asking more questions.

“It’s the truth.” He says. He knows it’s the truth, but he’s not really digging into this person’s past memories to find the answer himself. All he does is to put the mind to a state of complete relaxation and vulnerability, so the person is incapable of lying.

“Who gave you the order?”

“La Quica.” Out of curiosity, Pacho takes a look at La Quica as the thought passes him. Nothing interesting, just a young man with curly hair.

“Did La Quica tell you why?”

“You fucking know why.” The man sneers, also unable to hide any true emotions. “We had a deal! LA is Medellín’s territory, and you assholes didn’t keep your hands out of it. That’s fucking disrespect.”

”Disrespect, hmm?” Chepe also snorts. “So what was that fire, a warning?”

“A lesson.”

“A lesson, I see.” Chepe slowly walks towards the prisoner, and Pacho spares a glance just to make sure he’s still securely tied to the chair —— pure hatred and rage are consuming this man, and sometimes a human’s body has incredible potential when their mind is overtaken by emotions. Pacho’s capable of physically overpowering any human, but only when he’s also grounded in reality. When he’s inside people’s minds, there’s very little his body can do.

“Are there any more lessons planned?”

“That depends on you guys. Patrón said Gilberto should know the right thing to do.”

Who’s this patrón? Pacho searches through his mind, and it seems like this person hasn’t really met the patrón face to face that many times, but it sure came up a lot in conversations he had with other people. From what he could gather, it looks like a middle aged overweight man. He’s about to search for the name, when Chepe calls out to him.

“That’s all I need to know. He’s all yours.”

“Thank you!” Pacho says, both with his physical body and inside the person’s mind, which freaks the prisoner out, but it doesn’t matter, once he takes the soul, it will be all over.

He takes a deep breath, can’t help but feel a bit overexcited. This is going to be his first human soul. He’s heard so much about it, how it’s supposed to be the most wonderful feeling in the world when the pure energy is extracted and consumed, melting into their own magic… He considered just trying it on some random human, when he first gained full power a few months ago, but there was never a good opportunity. It’d be super weird if he just possessed someone on the street, and let that person drop dead a minute later.

But this, a prisoner already weakened and injured, likely not going to live anyway, is the perfect opportunity.

Pacho reaches out with his own energy, wide into the realm of consciousness, and starts consuming. Wow…it feels like everything he’s imagined, but better, more powerful. He can perceive everything about this man’s life at the same time, yet each detail is crystal clear. He is absorbing someone, and every essence of this person’s existence now belongs to him, until the mind is left with nothing but absolute blankness.

He stays inside the empty mind for a while to calm himself down, and then slowly exits the dead place, opening his eyes again inside his own body.

*

“That was fucking unbelievable!” He turns to Chepe, unable to hide his immense exhilaration. “I wish I could show you how it feels!”

But Chepe’s reaction doesn’t match his excitement at all, and he’s just silently staring with a complicated expression. It looks like a mix of many emotions, but mainly just shock and some caution. He could have gone into Chepe’s mind as well to figure out the other emotions, but Chepe did tell him not to do that earlier.

“What? What is it?” He looks down and sees his own hands and arms, now covered in a layer of soft golden glow, like sunlight is attached to his skin. “Oh, interesting! How long has it been like that?”

“Not long, a few seconds.” Chepe glances at the lifeless body. “What exactly did you do in there?”

“It’s hard to explain.” He answers honestly. “I took his soul. I can just do that, like you can’t really explain how humans swallow food, right?”

“Right, and does that make you stronger or?”

“It does, but one soul won’t really make a difference.” He feels his own power inside, just to confirm the conclusion. “But say if I take 50, I’ll definitely become a lot stronger.”

“50,” Chepe repeats, like he’s convincing himself of this reality, “and you can do that to anyone.”

“Anyone.”

“Yeah, I need some fucking fresh air.”

“But quality also matters.” Pacho catches up, “A soul is a soul, but this one wasn’t that good.”

“No surprise there!” Chepe says sarcastically. “God would certainly agree with you on that.”

Pacho has heard humans talking about a God, and from the contexts, it seems like they are referring to some sort of higher power, but that doesn’t exist, right? He hasn’t met one creature that’s more powerful than his kind.

“It’s not because he wasn’t a good person, if that’s what you mean.” They make the same turns as they came in earlier, until the heavy metal door appears at the end of a narrow corridor, and he stops talking when he sees the guards. He can get into the details later.

The guards open the door for them, and sunlight shines through, blindingly bright, inviting them to step outside, back into the warm, lively world.

“Well, if you haven’t figured it out, none of us are good people here.” Chepe continues, once they’re far enough from the guards.

“I think that’s quite clear.” Pacho thinks about the man they just killed as they walk back to the car. “But it’s alright! Your good and bad are human standards, and they don’t matter to me.”

Chepe closes the car door, harder than necessary. “They should, if you’re pretending to be one!”

“I’ll try to pretend better?”

“No, that’s not…” Chepe runs a hand down his face. “Look, I know you think you can do anything because of your powers and whatever, but it’s really more complicated than that, alright?”

“I know that. That’s why we’re fascinated by humans in the first place, remember?”

Chepe rolls his eyes in pure frustration, but doesn’t say anything more. Pacho watches him turning the key, and the car starts moving again.

“I don’t get it.” He turns to the human, who’s now focused on the road. “I only did what you asked.”

The road is empty and they’re the only car here, but Chepe only spares him a brief glance, and it gives him a strange new human feeling, like sourness spreading in his chest.

“It’s not your fault, ok? You didn’t do anything wrong, as long as you don’t start eating the souls of random people.”

“No! Of course not.” He’s not sure if that’s a joke, but it puts a smile back on his face. “But if you are killing anyone else, I’ll take them.”

Chepe laughs at that, loud and genuine.

“So? Are we good?” He asks, just to make sure, because he’s still having trouble understanding the whole thing. Do human emotions always change this fast, for no apparent reason? He wishes he could just get into Chepe’s brain, and it’d be so much easier.

“Let me ask you this.” Chepe doesn’t answer his question, and instead gives him a new one. “What if I tell you to do something without letting you get anything in return? Say if I ask you to burn someone to death, so you won’t be able to get their soul.”

“I don’t see why you can’t do that yourself, but yeah, I don’t mind doing it.”

“Without getting anything for yourself?”

“You’re still introducing the human world to me, right?” He turns to Chepe. The afternoon sunlight is on their left side at the moment, directly shining through the window on the driver's side, making him squint a little. “The food, the clothes, and many other things I hope. That’s what I’m getting in return, for myself.”

Chepe looks genuinely amused, but it’s mixed with disbelief. “For that, you will do whatever I tell you?”

Pacho’s first instinct is to say yes. It was his own offer, and whatever Chepe might want him to do, it should be effortless for him, so what’s the problem? But still, he stops himself from answering immediately, and takes a bit more time to consider possibilities. Maybe he’s missing something crucial, because Chepe’s tone makes the question sound more like a challenge or bait, like he’s expecting Pacho to say no.

“I will do what I’m able to, as long as it doesn’t hurt me.” He ends up saying. “But I don’t think you can, or want to hurt me.”

“What makes you think I don’t want to? Didn’t I just tell you none of us are good people here?”

“I think…you’re not good to some other humans.” Pacho tries to put his thoughts into words. The language isn’t the challenge, but explaining what’s happening in his own mind can be such a sticky thing, so much more difficult than reading someone else’s. “But you’ve been good to me. That’s what matters.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Chepe shakes his head, laughing in an almost defeated manner. “Alright, guess we can leave it at that.”

*

They are quiet for the rest of the drive. It’s clear that Chepe doesn’t want to continue the conversation, at least not on the same topic, so Pacho turns his attention to outside, observing the fast moving scenery.

They get back to the house, and a guard greets Chepe with a wary expression. “I’m very sorry, patrón. We couldn’t find your fox.”

“What?” It takes Chepe a brief moment to remember his own order this morning. “Oh right, that’s fine. It probably ran back to the woods, just leave it be.”

The guard nods, eyes widening in surprise, and hurries to leave the room.

“Can I ask you something?” Pacho calls out before the human can walk away.

Chepe turns back around, leaning on a large wooden shell full of human artworks and crafts. “Usually you just ask.”

That’s right, but this question feels different, more personal. “You don’t torture animals when you hunt, so how comes that you torture your own kind?”

“That’s a fucking good question.” Chepe chuckles, looking truly impressed. “I’m not sure you’ll understand the answer though, even if I tell you.”

“I’ll try.”

“You will, but not today.” Chepe reaches up and claps a hand on his shoulder. “I need to go prepare for a meeting later. Why don’t you go look around the house, try on your new clothes or something, I’ll be back before dinner.”

He only registers half of the words. All his attention immediately goes to the left shoulder where Chepe’s palm is. The contact makes him instinctively tense up.

“What’s wrong now?” Chepe quickly drops his hand. “You can’t be touched?”

“No, I can.” He shakes himself out of it. “That was just the first time I physically touched a human.”

“Wait, really?! Didn’t you live 500 years?”

“When I’m also in my human form, I mean. It feels different for some reason.” He covers his shoulder, still feeling the residual sensation from the brief contact. “Don’t worry, I’ll get used to the human body.”

Many different emotions flash across Chepe’s face: awkwardness, confusion, and something new, something he really can’t decipher.

“Right, ok. I’ll see you later then.”

Guess they’ll leave it at that.

@ashlingiswriting @yourlocalspacewitxch @mandaloria314 @drabbles-mc @cherixrosa @cheesybadgers @cositapreciosa @criatividad-e @alreadywritten @narcolini @mon-capuccino @amane-otaku @sikkui

[aggimaginary]

The Bad Guys season 1: Our Own Story (chapter 30) - Red With Envy

First Previous Next

Hey guys! Sorry I posted a little late. I was working on another chapter while I'm still at school and I delayed my time posting. Well, here it is. I hope I can write my next chapter faster.

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Intro

Mr. Wolf: Yeah! I'm bad!

Mr. Snake: You're bad!

Ms. Tarantula: He's bad!

Mr. Hornet: She's bad!

Mr. Piranha: We're bad!

Mr. Shark: Who's bad?

The Bad Guys: Yeah! We're the Bad Guys!

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Shark and Piranha went down by the waterfront as they passed by beach restaurants and stores along the way.

"Thanks for helping me find a lobster roll truck on Instagram, Piranha," Shark said.

"Eh, I just wish we didn't have to go to this stupid, gentrified waterfront. This place was so much better when it sucked and we never came here," Piranha grumbled.

Shark and Piranha then made it in front of the food truck.

"Well, here's our lobster roll truck," Shark said.

"Uh, hey, guys?" Behind them, a hippie interrupted them, You're cutting in line. It starts back there," he pointed to the back of the line, which was a very very long line, and the end of it was unable to be seen

"What? No! All I wanted was just some decent lobster," Shark whined grumpily.

"You know, Shark, they're right out there, up for grabs," Piranha pointed to the ocean, "We should just go straight to the source."

"What are you even suggesting, Piranha? That we, what, we get a lobster boat and be lobstermen?" Shark asked.

Piranha was seen wearing a grey turtleneck sweater with cobalt blue pants, black shiny boots, and over the sweater was a navy blue ship captain's coat with 4 gold buttons to keep it closed, a gold button on each cuff of the sleeves, the flaps open, exposing a little bit of the turtleneck. On his head was a matching navy blue sailor's cap, "Yeah."

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Meanwhile, at the hideout, Hornet sat at the dinner table, calculating the savings that he earned from his job at FasTogether, and hoping he'll use them for something important in the future.

When the elevator opened, Diane came in with Tarantula on her shoulder, laughing together. Diane was carrying a big shopping bag, while Tarantula carried two small ones, and they put the bags on the dinner table.

"Where have you guys been?" Hornet asked when he noticed Tarantula and Diane having a good time and putting the bags in front of him.

"We were just at the mall, stopping by at the nail salon to have our nails painted," Diane answered.

"I don't even have nails, but look at my hands. So shiny," Tarantula showed her mitten hands, and the tips were painted colorfully.

The governess added, "We learned all about painting nailess hands and fingers, and intern trainings, and not to ask how the store stays in business, because the manager gets really defensive."

"I love it how she says, 'Mitten hands are so plain! Paint them now!'" The hacker imitated the manager's voice as she and Diane laughed loudly, much to Hornet's confusion.

"Oh, you so had to be there," Tarantula told Hornet

"I'm so glad I wasn't," Hornet admitted. When Tarantula and Diane, poured out their newly-bought clothes, accessories, and nail-polishing tools, Hornet noticed they covered all of his stuff, "Hey, you guys are getting your manicure junk all over my notebooks. My charts in spare spaces were exciting enough. The paint is redundant."

"Hornet, you should go do your work in your room," Tarantula suggested.

"What? I mean, I always do my writing here. Why don't you go repaint your 'nails' in your room, Webs?" Hornet recommended.

"Repainting nails in my room?" Tarantula sputtered, and she and Diane laughed loudly.

"Imagine what the manager would say!" the governess chuckled, imagining what the manager would say about painting nails in a very small space like Tarantula's room, "Hornet, we need the table. We got more accessories for not just nails, but also dresses and hair coming."

"Yeah. In these few days, we'll have an amazing girl time!" Tarantula declared, "Right, D?"

"You betcha, W!" Diane responded happily before heading out of the hideout with the elevator.

When Diane left as the elevator closed, Hornet turned to Tarantula, asking her in private, "Did you just call each other 'D' and 'W'?"

"Yeah. Girl talk. I always wanted to do that with the boys, but they don't get it," Tarantula explained.

Then, Hornet something on Tarantula pointed hair, "Hey, is that my hair clip?"

Tarantula looked up to notice a dragonfly hairclip, "It's the one you gave to me."

"Well, I want it back."

"Right now? You don't even have hair."

"I need that for my antenna," Hornet snatched the hairclip from Tarantula's hair, "Maybe you and 'D' can buy a new one on my working table. And if 'H' gets a 'X' because of 'D' and 'W', he's gonna be 'T'd… off," Hornet quickly grabbed his stuff, and flew away, leaving Tarantula to look confused.

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In Wolf's room, Wolf was looking at his phone, scrolling posts from social media. But then, Hornet burst into his room without knocking, and threw his things on the drawer next to the door.

"Wolf, I just did something bad," Hornet blurted out.

"Hornet, we're the Bad Guys. We always do something bad… but I really want to know what it is!" Wolf pointed before putting his phone down, "So, spill it, bug. What is it?"

"I just got really mad at Webs out of nowhere, and I don't know why. I was never mad at Webs, I'm always mad at Diane. It just… happened," the little insect admitted.

"Well, you've brought your dysfunction to the right place," Wolf stated, "Apparently, petting dogs makes patients more relaxed and happy. As you can see, I'm a canine, so I can be your petting dog. It's actually a real thing about petting dogs that makes you relaxed, and not just a scam made up by my fake organization, the Petfur Group."

An ad showed Wolf being petted by several arms on his cheek, behind his ears, and his head. "The Petfur Group, not a fake organization."

Hornet rolled his eyes, and scoffed, "Seriously? The Petfur Group? Why are you wasting my time with this?"

"Wow, you're mad at everyone today. But I can help you. I've really learned a lot about being a therapist," the Bad Guy leader confessed.

The insect asked, "From who?"

"From you and Shark. I know you two have been practicing being therapists as your part-time job one day. But you two are getting there," Wolf answered, "Anyhoo, back to your brand of nuttiness."

"I was probably just annoyed that Webs and Diane asked me to leave the dinner table," Hornet shared his problem.

"As your therapist, I suggest that you pee under the table a little bit. Mark your territory.

Snake has his room, Piranha has his spatula, I have my pee-on-things."

"Or I could just tell them the table is my working spot, and I need them to respect that."

When Hornet flew towards the door, Wolf agreed to that suggestion, but suggested another thing, "Great. And if that doesn't work–"

Hornet turned to Wolf, and clarified, "Wolf, I'm not peeing under the table."

"You have to want to get better, Hornet!"

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Meanwhile, Shark was putting a bucket of chums down, and sighed calmly, "I can't believe we're doing this. We're actually going lobster fishing."

"Our way of life is disappearing, hermano," Piranha said as he was wearing a yellow rainjacket and a hat, and acted like a real fisherman.

"Piranha, we got the boat 15 minutes ago. Settle down. How'd we get the boat, anyway?" Shark asked.

"Traded it for Pinkberry with chocolate coins from a working-class New Englander hooked on Pinkberry with chocolate coins," Piranha answered.

"Huh. All right, well, I got lobster pots, trammel nets, buoys, chum, rope, flotation gear, and a radio," Shark explained while pointing to each tool they needed to hunt for lobsters, "What do you get?"

"Pinkberry with chocolate coins," Piranha showed a cup of Pinkberry yogurt with chocolate coins as toppings.

The bigger fish snatched the yogurt cup from the little one, and told him, "Piranha, stop screwing around and give me that Pinkberry with chocolate coins, and go get me some more Pinkberry with chocolate coins."

"Uh, let me check on Carrie first," the little fish turned around to talk to his companion, "Carrie, how you doing with that double sheet bend?" Carrie the stuffed swam was sitting beside the rope, "Okay, apparently I said "half hitch" or whatever," Piranha crossed his fins at the toy.

"I don't even know why you brought her," Shark wondered.

Piranha explained, "Hornet wanted me to bring him so Carrie would have an adventure outside the hideout. She also gets so jealous when you and I hang out.

"Well, tell her she doesn't have anything to worry about."

"She doesn't?"

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Back in the hideout, Wolf, Tarantula, Hornet, and Diane were going to eat lunch as they gathered ingredients for their create-your-own-pizza. Tarantula brought her own pizza to the table while Hornet already had his.

"Webs, I love this whole individual pizza thing you and Diane came up with. It gives us a chance to express who we are," Wolf complimented while holding his pizza on the plate.

"Yours has nothing on it," Diane noticed Wolf's pizza surface has no toppings.

"It's a deep-dish. It's all bubbling beneath the surface. Ham, pepperoni, olive, self-doubt…, I mean, basil," Wolf corrected himself while explaining.

Diane shrugged as she headed to the table with her pizza.

Hornet then started announcing something important, "All right, well, while we're all here I wanted to talk about the incident that occurred at this very table a short while back–"

But he was then interrupted when Diane gasped and took out an earring from her pizza, "Oh! Webs, look, there's an earring on my pizza!" The girls started laughing, making Hornet feel uncomfortable for being interrupted by the two girls, "One of my earrings! It fell on my pizza! Oh! Take a picture!" Diane exclaimed as Tarantula took out her phone, and took a picture of Diane holding her earring and the pizza in front of her.

"What are you guys doing?" Hornet asked.

"Real-time girl time. We wanna take this picture to immortalize this great meal and one day re-live the hilarious pizza earring episode," Tarantula replied as she and Diane laughed together.

"Webs, this episode is barely worth living, let alone re-living," Hornet didn't find this fun, and complained, "And you didn't even make the meal. You just put a bunch of toppings in bowls and opened a jar of sauce!"

"I actually opened the sauce," Wolf admitted, "Why do I need validation for that?"

"What's going on with you, Hornet?" Tarantula asked in concern.

"Well, I was telling you, but you were so busy with your girly bonding moment, and shoddy adhesive work," Hornet took out his helmet, and showed the hologram of Diane's Instagram I mean, look at Diane's Instagram. N1NJAG0FANG1RL? Who named that?"

"I don't want everyone to know that my Instagram page was all about me and Webs. It'll compromise my job," Diane explained and smiled sheepishly.

"See? Diane is ashamed to be your friend," Hornet pointed it out to Tarantula.

"No, Hornet. She's right. We've been hiding in the shadows for a while, and Diane was an expert on it… well, still in an expert," Tarantula smirked at the governess, and the two laughed loudly again.

But Hornet scoffed while blowing a raspberry, "Pfft! We make our own Instagram page, and we even use our names there. A lot of people used someone else's names–Our names, for example–to hide their real names."

"Hornet, if this is how you're gonna behave, you can leave this table and go to your room," Tarantula advised.

"Oh, perfect. Kick me off the table again. Maybe this time I'll just take it with me," Hornet grabbed the edge of the table, and dragged the table across the main room. When Hornet opened the door, he tried to drag the table into his room, but the door won't fit the door, "I said maybe!" Hornet yelled as he just left the table there while the door was open, and proceeded flying into his room.

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In the middle of the sea, Shark and Piranha were now wearing dark blue T-shirts with a pair of orange rubber booted overalls with the straps buckled in safely by two silver clips. They pulled a lobster trap to check if they get any lobster, but when they opened the trap, it was empty.

"Three hours of lobster fishing and nothing," Shark sighed disappointedly.

"You shouldn't have dumped all my Percocets in the water. Now the lobsters are just down there hanging out and defrauding the government for disability checks," Piranha said.

"Should we drop our traps somewhere else?" Shark suggested.

Piranha asked, "Like where?"

"I don't know, maybe we try Mel Brooks. It's those brooks nobody even heard of until three years ago, and now all of a sudden it's huge," the big fish explained

"Eh, we could try Frank Ocean. Although I hear that ocean was mean to Miguel Pimentel," the little fish said.

"Maybe Awkwafina?"

"Crystal Waters?"

"Naya Rivera?"

"Sam Waterson?"

"Isla Fisher?"

Suddenly, a sailor passed by them, calling them through the megaphone, "How are those celebrity water puns working out?

But Shark and Piranha ignored him as they stayed focused on finding an area for lobster fishing.

"Welp, this has been a bust," Shark stated.

The sailor continued, "George Strait? Anyway, your guys were good, too."

Piranha looked down at his wristwatch, and declared, "Uhp, we're due for an eight-second squall. I got to go have an overacting scene where I curse God in a boat storm."

Piranha rushed forward as the weather changed into a stronger storm with hard rain, cold winds, strong current, and lightning as it swung the boat in different ways. He stood on top of the VHF antenna as he hung on, and yelled to the sky.

"Strike me down, you coward! I have big feelings about weather! The storm symbolizes my madness!This is worth it for fish!"

The storm suddenly stopped as the waves calmed down, as so was the boat.

Piranha climbed down from the, and said, "Well, Carrie, clear one BAFTA's-worth of space on the trophy shelf," When he searched for Carrie, where he had lost saw her, the swan toy wasn't there beside the rope anymore, "Carrie?" Piranha looked around for the stuffed swan, until he looked outside the boat. There, Carrie was floating on the water. She was tripped out of the boat by the storm, "Carrie!" The stuffed swan then sank into the ocean, "No!" Piranha just helplessly Hornet's favorite toy sank.

Shark got a chance to see the toy sinking, and asked, "How did he sink so fast?"

"I get the feeling that Hornet put coins in her," Piranha explained.

"What?"

"He was just trying to help steal those coins from the banks. He has no hiding place where he could keep those coins!"

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Back in the Bad Guys' Hideout, when Diane took a break from her work in the meantime, she visited Wolf's room for a therapy session, and hoped Wolf had advice for her about dealing with Hornet.

"So Hornet hates me all of a sudden and I don't know why," Diane said.

"Okay, well, this kind of puts me in an awkward position. You see, Hornet is also one of my first patients," Wolf explained.

"Oh, good. I'm glad he's getting help," the governess murmured.

Wolf then suggested, "The only advice I can give you is; Be extra nice to Hornet. Drop a dead bird at her feet. And if that doesn't work…," he demonstrated by scratching Diane's chin, "Scratch under his chin," then he scratched behind her ear, "Behind his antenna instead of his ear," Then he scratched on top of her head, "Maybe a little bit on the top of his head. But be gentle. He's really small."

"All right. Thanks, Wolf," Diane thought it was a piece of good advice as she jumped from the chair, and headed to the door before turning around, and asking her "therapist", "So do you have any dead birds I could maybe…?"

"Yeah, no, I don't think so. I kinda need all the ones I have," Wolf answered as Diane grinned understandingly, and headed out.

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Back to Shark and Piranha, they were now wearing scuba gear as they were going to rescue the stuffed swan.

"We have to save Carrie! We have to! Hornet's going to kill me!" Piranha cried nervously.

"I know, Piranha, but look," Shark put the sea level map on the boat floor, "Our only chance is if he's up here on the George Cumberland Ridge. We'll never reach him if he's fallen down into the Brian Trench."

The sailor returned, and spoke through the megaphone to declare another celebrity water pun, "Also, Danielle Fishel. Or-or yours. Y-Yours are good, too."

With no time to lose, Shark and Piranha put their goggles on, and dove into the water. Obviously, they didn't need the gear as they could swim and breathe underwater, but as anthropomorphic animals, they needed it. They just didn't need oxygen tanks at all. They still had gills to breathe.

The two fish swam all the way down until they made it above the ocean floor. They looked around to find the stuffed swan. Just then, Piranha spotted Carrie, who was sitting on a rock.

Despite the fact that they could talk underwater either, Piranha took out a chalkboard with a pen attached to it by a string.

He got Shark's attention, and wrote something on his chalkboard. He wrote, "Their he is!"

Shark then took out a chalkboard, and wrote something before showing to Piranha, "*There"

Piranha erased his writing with his sleeve, and wrote on the board again before showing to Shark, "Your a dork"

Shark erased his writing, and wrote another correct grammar before showing to the little fish, "*You're"

Piranha once again erased his writing, and wrote another thing before showing to the big fish, "Don't Be a grammar giant squid."

Shark narrowed his eyes to read the phrase again, confused about what it meant. Suddenly, a Giant Squid grabbed him with its tentacles, and strangled him around the water Piranha just watched when he dodged out of the way after the Giant Squid attacked.

Piranha looked down at the chalkboard, reading his writings. He added something to it, and it was revealed that he added two "dashes" next to the word "grammar", and the "Giant Squid" was underlined with two exclamation points, "Don't Be a grammar– Giant Squid"

Piranha then proceeded with his mission to rescue the stuffed swan as he swam down to rescue Carrie.

The Giant Squid continued to strangle the helpless Shark until it threw him down.

Piranha extended his fin to reach for Carrie. He kept swimming as he was getting closer and closer. He was about to grab the swan, until Shark bumped into Piranha, causing the two to push Carrie off the rock, and continued to sink down.

Piranha tried to retrieve Carrie as he helplessly watched the swan sink into the deep deep dark trench until she was out of sight.

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At the hideout, while Hornet was drinking hot chocolate, he felt that someone scratched under his chin, then his antenna, and his head. Bothered by a giant orange finger, Hornet turned around to see Diane behind him, noticing she was the one scratching him.

"What are you doing?!" He yelled.

"Wolf said this would help," Diane said.

"Well, it's not."

"He had one other suggestion."

Diane then dropped a small box beside Hornet.

"What is that?" the bug asked.

"My old goldfish," the governor answered, "Wolf wouldn't give me one of his dead birds, so I dug up my fish from my backyard. We good?" she had her thumbs up.

But Hornet was annoyed by Diane's new behavior when Wolf gave her these suggestions as he answered, "Diane, that is disgusting. You're a governess. You're better than that."

"I was just trying to do something nice."

"It's not nice!"

Diane exhaled sharply, and scolded the insect, "Well, you're not nice."

"I don't appreciate having dead animals!" Hornet shouted.

Hornet and Diane started to argue angrily, until Tarantula crawled out form her room, and approached the two arguing animals.

"What's going on here? Guys, what's going on?" Tarantula questioned.

"Diane is being dramatic. Probably because she's been hanging out with you too much," Hornet answered without making eye contact with her.

Tarantula was shocked by Hornet's behavior, "Hornet, that is no way to talk to me."

"You shoulda heard how she was talking to Barbara!" Diane showed the box that held her dead fish, but Hornet slapped the box down to the floor, "Barbara!".the governess screamed for her dead fish.

Hornet, Diane, and Tarantula started arguing with each other loudly, tunil Wolf walked out of his room after hearing even loud commotion than a minute ago.

Tarantula then saw Wolf behind her, and pleaded, "Wolf, please help me out here."

"All right, let's go. Seat down on the couch! Now!" Wolf commanded the three.

Tarantula, Hornet, and Diane headed to the coach, and sat down while Wolf sat on another small couch beside the trio.

"I thought I sensed some tension around the house. Maybe it's time for a little professional intervention. So, we're gonna do a little group therapy session," Wolf announced, "Diane, you start".

"Well, I was hanging out with Webs, and then Hornet just snapped at me whenever I'm around," Diane explained.

"And how did that make you feel?" Wolf asked.

"I don't know. Upset, I guess." the governess responded before facing Hornet next to Tarantula, "I came here peacefully without bothering you, Hornet, but all of a sudden…, well," she couldn't explain anymore since she and Hornet both knew how the latter felt when the former came in.

"Diane, I…" Hornet tried to explain, but Tarantula cut him off when she was now comforting Diane.

"Oh, Diane, it's okay, you still have me, and I like having you around. Why don't we go out tomorrow to the mall again, and have a little girl time…?" Tarantula cooed, feeling pity for her friend.

"Oh, barf in my mouth!" Hornet shouted, showing his emotions again, "All you've been having is girl time! You go to the mall together, the store, you help her out at her job… I mean, what kind of person spends so much time with a governor?"

"A girl, Hornet! That's what girl friends do!" Tarantula pointed.

"Well, you were my girlfriend first!" Hornet blurted, until he realized what he just said, making Tarantula, Diane, and Wolf stare at him quietly. Hornet sat back down, feeling regret about his words, "I'm sorry. I don't know where that came from."

"This is what we call a breakthrough," Wolf declared. He then stood up from his seat, and told Diane, taking her off the couch, and escorting her out of the main room before heading to the elevator, "Come on, Governor. I think Webs and Hornet need a little bug time. You and I can have some canine time."

"Don't talk like a girl if you're not a girl," Diane said while shaking her head, gesturing to stop talking like that.

When Wolf and Diane were gone as the elevator closed, Tarantula had the chance to talk to Hornet, "I want to show you something," Tarantula jumped off the couch, and headed to her room. Hornet waited for a second, until Tarantula went back to him with a photo, "Look at you. You look like an itty-bitty bug," the photo showed Tarantula and Hornet together with the former making a big smile for the photo while the latter showed a nervous smile while staring at the camera, "I just wanted to pin you to a board and hang you on a wall."

"You always know just what to say if not how to say it," Hornet smiled, even though Tarantula could pin him on the wall for real.

"That's why I started keeping pictures about you and me, to remember when you first came here and needed me. Those were some of the best times of my life," Tarantula cooed while wrapping an arm around Hornet's back.

"You know, I'm always trying to be so independent and mature. But the truth is, sometimes I wish I was that Hornet I used to be again, and I had my best friend," Hornet admitted

"Oh, Hornet! You always have your best friend! Always!" Tarantula pulled his little friend into a hug as Hornet hugged her back. When they pulled away, Tarantula suggested, "Why don't we go do something together? Just you and me."

"I would love that," Hornet nodded in agreement before showing Tarantula the dragonfly hairclip, "Here's the hairclip back."

"Thanks, Hornet," Tarantula clipped the hairclip on her hair, "And after your shift, what do you say we go to the mall and do a little shopping?"

"Oh, that'd be great. We should go to the spa. I heard boys can go there."

"Yeah, well, you're not that kind of boy."

The two smiled at each other before leaving the couch, and heading to Tarantula's room to have some bonding time together as very good friends.

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Shark and Piranha later returned to the boat as Shark removed his scuba gear after being nearly killed by a giant squid.

"What are you doing, Shark? We have to go back," Piranha pleaded.

"Piranha, it's over. Carrie's fallen way too deep. We can't get to her," Shark said.

"But Carrie is Hornet's first toy, and he trusted me to keep an eye on her. We can't just leave her there."

"I'm afraid we have to, Piranha. Hornet will understand."

Piranha was then angered by Shark's "selfishness" as he couldn't let Carrie leave there or Hornet would never forgive him. Piranha just had enough of Shark's limitations, "You know what? I don't care what you do. I'm going back to save Carrie… for Hornet," Piranha turned around as he stood on the edge of the boat.

"Fine. Go ahead and try. You'll be back in one minute," Shark said as he had no control over convincing Piranha to risk his own life to save Hornet's favorite toy, "That's just enough time for me to remember the main guy in 'In The Heights'," When Piranha dove into the water, Shark then started to think of the actors from the movie he mentioned earlier, "Let's see, it was a three-name guy. Uh, Anton… Anton Ramirez? Ramon? Okay, I just need to go through every combination of Anton, Ramirez and Ramon, and I'll get it. Uh, no, wait, Ste-, Steve? Steven Ogg? Steve-No? Stephanie? Be-Beatriz. Stephanie Beatriz! In The Heights, starring Melissa Barrera and Stephanie Beatriz! Yeah, yeah. Okay, I see the poster now. Whew. What a relief. Okay, mystery solved."

But then, Shark looked at the edge, and started to feel worried for Piranha. The little fish is a freshwater. He was just lucky to survive salt water, but Shark wasn't sure how long he'll survive there, not to mention the pressure of the deep trench would kill him

Under the sea, Piranha swam all the way down as he entered the opening of the deep. He switched the flashlight on as the deep was getting darker. He encountered an angler fish and under fish, but he ignored them as he focused on his mission.

Piranha continued to swim even deeper and deeper as he noticed cracks in his goggles, and could feel his lungs slowly crushing. The pressure of the deep was extreme. It caused more cracks on Piranha's goggles, and the little fish was getting weaker and her vision was blurry, but he had to stay awake to find Carrie.

Finally, he spotted a white dot, who happened to be Carrie. He finally found her! Piranha swam down to the toy, and landed on the floor. Piranha dropped the flashlight, and grabbed the swan. He looked down on the swan, and all Piranha thought was Hornet. This toy meant so much to his best friend, and Piranha was relieved that he finally got her back.

Piranha then laid down on the floor after he felt his lungs here crushed, and he ran out of oxygen. He didn't feel like swimming out of this deep, so he had to just give up, and accept his faith. At least he got Hornet's toy with him. Piranha then took out his chalkboard, and wrote something there before passing out.

Piranha just laid there unconsciously as the flashlight blinked until it ran out of battery. The little fish was alone in the deep dark trench.

A minute later, a light shined above Piranha. It was Shark, who swam down while holding a flashlight. Just in time to rescue his little brother. Shark had been living in the ocean all his life, so he had a chance to survive the deep to get Piranha and Carrie out of there.

Shark grabbed Piranha with the swan, and was about to swim up. But then, he noticed some writings on the chalkboard, and it read, "Anthony Ramos." He was one of the main stars of the movie, In The Heights, which Shark tried to guess.

"Ugh!" Shark groaned as he swam up, carrying Piranha and Carrie to safety.

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Credits:

Sam Rockwell - Mr. Wolf

Craig Robinson - Mr. Shark

Anthony Ramos - Mr. Piranha

Awkwafina - Ms. Tarantula

Rhenzy Feliz - Mr. Hornet

Zazie Beetz - Diane Foxington/The Crimson Paw

Seth McFarlane - Sailor

Author Aggimaginary

Co-Author MasterClass60 TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3

So you're a tough guy Like it really rough guy Just can't get enough guy Chest always so puffed guy

I'm that bad type Make your mama sad type Make your girlfriend mad tight Might seduce your dad type I'm the bad guy

Phew, I finally finished this chapter!

The whole chapter was based on Family Guy: Lawyer Guy, and Dog with A Blog: Tyler Gets A Girlfriend.

Shark and Piranha's arc was loosely based on Brian and Stewie's arc in Family Guy, while Wolf, Tarantula, Hornet, and Diane's arc was loosely based on Avery, Chloe, Stan, Bennett, and Ellen's arc in Dog With A Blog.

Tarantula and Diane had been hanging out together since the movie, much to Hornet's jealousy, but it was revealed that Tarantula and Hornet are still best friends.

Carrie made an appearance while Snake was absent in this chapter. It is also revealed that Hornet kept coins inside of Carrie. It is possible that Carrie had a zipper somewhere for Hornet to keep his coins inside like a purse.

Special thanks to MasterClass60 and TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3 for helping me a lot with this chapter.

I hope you guys like this chapter. Hope I'll post the new one soon.

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[pbandjesse]

I have had a very good day but I need to stop letting myself get So worked up about my schedule and getting so worried that things are going to be overwhelming because so far it's been fine. I am capable of doing more than one thing a day apparently.

I am not feeling very good though. Like I think I'm getting sick not feeling good. But I will be okay. I'm just a little sleepy. In the back of my throat feels weird. So waking up wasn't very fun and I didn't feel in my best. But I knew James was going to buy me breakfast and that would help at least a little bit. The caffeine if nothing else.

I didn't wear the outfit I planned. And I would have a long sleeve shirt over my dress while I was at work. I decided to look for another cardigan that I could wear like my green tie front shirt and I ended up getting a 50% off offer on eBay for one I have been looking at for a while so that was very exciting. And when we got to work I sat in the back and ate my breakfast and while I was tired I was in a good mood.

I had a really nice conversation with Jessica and then Sarah when she came. And me and Sarah would do the tour walk through and talk about stuff. I don't feel like I was on my A game socially today but I did really make an effort. I just could feel how much of an effort I was putting in there.

Then I was handed our stamps that are from the assembly line that do the license plate because the handles had fallen off so I went to go reglue them and got some glue on the pad so I went to rinse it off and realized that what I thought was the stamp corroding a little bit was actually just built up ink and the stamps turned out to actually be red underneath everything else and super visible and it was so exciting. And so then I decided I was going to go and wash all the stamps. And I wish I got a picture of them because the before and after was incredible. And everyone made a big fuss about how I did such a good thing. And that made me feel really good. I like to be helpful.

And our school was great and I loved being Dee for both runs. With a big break in the middle. Kind of my ideal schedule when I'm feeling this way. The kids were really good and they were a lot of fun. But we had 30 chaperone's. Plus 10 teachers. And it was just a lot of adults kind of being in the way but they were fine. And both programs went really well. The first one I did alone and the second one I had Sarah watching me. And I don't know if I did my best job teaching her because I was very focused because we had so many people but I think she'll get it pretty quickly.

In the middle during our lunch I had a really nice conversation with Rosie. She wants to commission me to do an embroidery for a pageant sash. Her and her daughter do beauty pageants which I think is so cool because it's a world I have no ideas about. And she showed me some pictures of her daughter I'll dress up and she looked beautiful. And so she's going to drop her sash off with jeans next week and bring it to me so I can try to get that done before the honeymoon. hopefully it works. She tried to go to a place that would do machine embroidery but because it has rhinestones on it they couldn't do it under their sewing machine so I'm going to see if it's possible for me to do it by hand so fingers crossed that unable to do it.

Honestly having my purse that's all embroidered was very helpful because then I could show her examples of what a stem stitch and a sadden stitch were. And then Cindy brought me a few embroidery hoops from her house that she didn't need anymore and that was so kind of her. That's going to help a lot with my next workshop with the National Guard. Very excited about that. I'm going to have to put that stuff together next week. Probably on Tuesday.

Work was good though and once the kids were gone I went upstairs to work on oysters and talk to Sarah and Jordan and we talked about conspiracy theories in church and colts and weird stuff at ships and then James came up to say hello because they were going into meetings and we wouldn't see each other until they got home from work and then I was running right out again so we knew it would be a long day. And Jordan made a fuss about how sweet we were. Which makes me smile. And soon enough I was heading out because I wanted to get home to try to eat and rest.

I had planned on stopping to get a sandwich so I went to Jimmy John's and I was in and out very quickly. And after I got my food I went home and honestly it could not have been better timing because I was so exhausted and my blood sugar was solo that I was shaking and was seeing motion blur. I'm going to have to bring that up to my doctor's next time I go.

I enjoyed my food though and then I laid on the couch with sweet pea and I ended up falling asleep for half an hour. I heard James come in but I didn't get up all the way yet. Eventually I had to get up. And I felt very bad but I made some at home pink drink and shook it off best I could. Gave James a hug and they walked me downstairs because they were going to go for a bike ride. And I went to my class.

I was a little nervous but it ended up being great. It was me the assistant, whose name was Frisby, and two students. Adults. And we made mosaics and it was a lot of fun. We all did it together and there was laughs and talking about shows and listening to music and a little bit of dancing and I'm so glad that it went as well as it did because I was very nervous. But then I just felt great. I felt really happy.

On my drive home because I was so happy I was watching all the people out of the window and smiling and there was a homeless man in a wheelchair. Missing a leg. Who had drawings all over his wheelchair and was drawing in a notebook. So I called over to him and he showed me his drawing And I gave him $2 and he told me he's illustrating a children's book and that we should come and visit him sometime and I invited him to the museum. His name was Jay and he was very sweet. I love having a human connection sometimes.

I was very happy to be home. I brought my stuff upstairs and laid on the couch with James. They tried to give me leftovers but I wasn't really hungry. I just enjoyed laying there with them and sharing tiktoks.

Eventually I went and took a bath. Which felt great. I'm having kind of low body feeling. I feel to big and bloated. I want to feel good and strong again. I am trying to move more. My bones don't hurt as much. But the mental block that it could hurt is there. And the skin on my hands hurts. But I will try to be positive.

I am looking forward to sleep. It was a long day and I'm really tired. Tomorrow at work Mr and John are going to try to fix the presses in the cannery. And then I'm watching the desk for a bit. And then a chill afternoon.

I hope you all sleep well. Be safe and be well!!

[mountainashfae]

OC ask questions!

19, 32, 50

Hehe

19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)

I mean, it's time to drag Rowan Thornbrook out into the spotlight again. You remember him, I played him in Ace's game where we met. He was my first ever DnD character and I decided to play him twice like I tend to do with characters whose campaigns never finish. A lot of his personality was based on mine. His character is a load-bearing pillar of my original setting. I haven't drawn him properly in over 5 years.

I named myself after him and he's one of the reasons I met you and Winter.

32. Which one of your OCs would be the most suitable horror game protagonist and why?

Cay hands down. Because they fear absolutely nothing. So it probably would change the horror game into a comedy because they're so unphased by everything. They're the scary thing in that haunted house.

50. Give me the good ol’ OC talk here. Talk about anything you want.

Okay Cool so I was talking in your DMs about Aurien and Florence and Madelynn. There's a whole mini fic under the cut.

[ ask meme ]

So the typical plot in the Cerdinen timeline is that Orion becomes a deity, Aurien is just kinda left there immortal on earth, and it kinda goes on for a few millennia. Aurien simply isn't allowed to die, because they were made to be the deity of death. But this isn't about Aurien's immortality angst this is about Maddie.

Madelynn is a special little teenage girl with really potent summoning skill. She's got such good potential that she can summon not just elemental spirits, the most common usage, she can summon the spirits of past heroes. This was an accidental Fate joke.

It's over a thousand years since he died, but her first and best summoned spirit is none other than Vio Miette. He distinguished himself by taking charge during the era of chaos when the deities shifted and turned the city of Helianthus into a stable country. But Madelynn is still young and inexperienced. The Vio she summons is his much younger self. A Vio in his 20s who is so positive and trusting but who is missing almost all memories of his life.

The two of them, though Vio's spirit is only ever seen by Madelynn, run into an old and tired but never-ceasing Aurien. And Aurien freezes. Because they see what are basically ghosts of their past. They do see their son and pupil Vio, but they also see Madelynn and are face to face again with their own mentor, Florence. But, they're good at hiding things deep down. They've been doing it for almost 1.5k years now. Well, they can't hide that they can see Vio. But it works in everyone's favor.

Vio's spirit implicitly trusts Aurien because that's the him from a time before Aurien's "betrayal". Aurien almost cries. But just like with Florence, Aurien becomes Madelynn's traveling companion. They're able to help teach her how to better control and use her magic.

Everything goes swimmingly for a while! Madelynn is able to use more of her magic to enhance Vio's spirit... and that's when the cracks start to show. Vio regains some of his old memories, but only up into his 30s. That implicit trust he had in Aurien shatters as he remembers what Aurien did, but he doesn't yet remember how he made peace with his mentor.

Madelynn of course refuses to stop traveling with Aurien, why would she? Aurien had been nothing but good to the two of them. Every time Vio tries to reveal Aurien's secret, of course, he gets stopped. It's Aurien's one request that Madelynn never find out how the gods are unable to notice or acknowledge them.

One night during this phase of Vio's spirit, he finally makes a sort of peace with Aurien. Because while Madelynn is sleeping, Aurien reveals the truth behind the gloves they always wear. Where once the hands were pure white like snow, now there is nothing visible underneath the gloves at all. Their hands are invisible. It's unprecedented, to have a deity's blessing and then for it to disappear so completely it steals a part of yourself. But a goddess being devoured by one of her chosen was also unprecedented. Aurien and Vio are the only ones alive who remember that goddess's existence.

Vio does come to an understanding. That none of it was Aurien's fault, that everything was out of their control. But the bitterness stays.

As Madelynn finally comes into her abilities, she is able to summon Vio at his peak. At the time when he was considered the King of Helianthus. With that also comes the last of his memories. He remembers when Aurien visited all those centuries ago, how they made peace with each other, and how they split ways.

I admit Madelynn being able to summon Vio's spirit or memory was partially a setup for Vio and Aurien, but also, what better way for them to get closure for two of the people he cherished in life. Vio finally comes to understand, and they get to return the compassion that Florence gave to them.

One of these days I'll have a role for Madelynn in that world aside from being a reminder of Florence. It's a very messy concept currently but it's fun to think about. Maddie and her multiple guardians.

[d1squ13tud3]

My thoughts are snagged and frustrated, there are a lot of kinks i haven't worked out, but what I can say is that I think education is genuinely, 100% the most important thing we can do for people. And whatever the actual material reason may be for compulsory education laws, they do exist. This is why it's hard for me to get my understanding of my own job as a teacher to "it's just a job." I've got this new neighbor in my new place who is a lonely old man, you know the type, they grab your ear and they can't let go, even if they feel themselves doing it. Today he's talking to me for like an hour about Warhammer 40k out of nowhere, boring as hell, but I'm letting him, uh-huhing nodding. It's like when my dad wants me to watch specific David Letterman clips so he can talk about them with me. People want a friend, but they also want a friend with whatever same interest as them, so they proselytize a bit. This is something I struggle with, because I want some clear boundary notion of evil popular pastimes (TV shows, bad art, etc.) vs good popular pastimes (whatever I do/am into, obviously.)

(What you're afraid of is people not getting it, is feeling like you're letting your dad down because you don't want to watch late show interviews, is being pestered at recess by the kid on the spectrum who won't stop asking you rhetorical questions about the Notre Dame fire and Uvalde, is being unable to find a socially graceful exit from the conversation with your neighbor, is tuning out a loved one because you're lost in your own thoughts. But — take me as I am or let me go. What you're afraid of is perfect social cohesion being impossible, and it is impossible.)

You hate to have to drop a hint on purpose, and you feel bad anyway if you drop a hint on accident. What I'm afraid of is that I can't get along with people, that secretly I can't stand them and they can't stand me.

Anyway, my lonely old man neighbor has beef with the building manager, who I personally don't like because she never responded to my emails when I was moving in and couldn't figure out why I had no power. Now I'm sure it's like a sick Hegelian dialectic for the both of them, but my neighbor drops this truism, that you can't be in this line of work if you don't like people. Well, I feel weird saying that because now I've got this fear that I myself don't like people, but the true and sharp point of his fact remains that her job is managing apartments where people live. I move in on the weekend because the 1st falls on a Friday, and because that's when I have my days off because I'm a teacher, and there's no power, and the only person I can get ahold of to help me from the management company — because it's the weekend — is the one electrician working the weekend, putting out metaphorical fires across the city. I didn't get power till Monday, two days in the dark with cold water, but I didn't want to go back to my dad's house because I feel too guilty about not liking him that much. Specifically, filial piety leaves a bad taste in my mouth I think because the ruling dynamic in the relationship was fear and resentment, and now it's something like contempt and pity. I don't like my father, except in the moments that I do. I'll have to come to terms with that, but the fact remains that I want to keep him at a distance.

So I am a teacher, and trust me that I've got all this internal conflict and cognitive dissonance about when I try to do it My Way, when I give everyone 100% on homework sheets without checking who's done them or turned them in, apparently because I can't even be fucked to do even that, when I . . . show up and improvise lessons. I hate and revile the entire educational system, the grade-based assessment, multiple choice, teaching to the test, the fact my school is for-profit, that they shove 30 kids in a classroom, all that. Despite that, I want to do the best I can for the students, and I, from practical experience (having gone to school myself) knowing that "education is what remains after you've forgotten what you learned", can only really conclude that there must be something good I can do for the students in — forgive me for phrasing it like this — being good to be around and cultivating good vibes in my classroom, reprimanding them for actually cruel behavior (i.e. being mean, inconsiderate or cruel) and supporting them everywhere else as much as I possibly can. Trying to help them break out of any cruel boxes they might be painted into by friends or family, protecting them from stupid or potentially harmful school-oriented situations without consideration for what's specifically good or bad for me.

The main thing this sort of thing requires is me saying: "I have sound enough judgment that my judgment more often than not correctly identifies where the System is good or bad for the students." I only have good intentions, but then it's probably true that the ideas that people come up with are just how they make sense of the material situation that they're in. Like — I don't think this is the case, but it Could be the case that I'm crazy and a screw-up, and I explain my ill fit in this world — otherwise mostly good — by envisioning myself on a doomed, noble crusade.

The original point of this post was to express that I want to be at work every day because I think that's important to being a good teacher in any sense, and I think it's really stupid that doctors don't do appointments on the weekend. Why can't we coordinate so that half of the doctors do Sun-Thurs, and half do Tues-Sat? I shouldn't have to wait till the summer or take time off because I'm trying to become healthier. "One afternoon off isn't a big deal!" What about the rest?

I have this idea of myself in my mind now as unhealthy, and I can't tell whether I am or not. I know having to drive all over the place makes me feel like shit musculoskeletally, but everyone acts like it's normal to drive everywhere, and the whole fucking city is set up so that you can't walk anywhere, and I feel like shit when I do walk, and my best guess is my stupid fucking feet are too weak and malformed to just wear normal shoes from the store, but even once I jump through a bunch of hoops and pay a bunch of money to fix that I'll still have to drive everywhere, because everything is really far apart, and the only place that's really walkable is the 24 hour corner store, and only unhealthy things are purchased there. This is really why I don't like my dad: he thinks everything is fine.

I want to be the best teacher ever. This is both a selfish and an unselfish aspiration; selfish because I want this because I wish my experience in school had been better, but unselfish because I know that the only sensible goal to draw from this is to try and make it better for others. I think I am capable of identifying with anyone. Something I'm scared of is that I am uniquely deficient — I'm just physically malformed, or I'm just lazy — and that's why I often feel like shit, and that's why I can't keep my life in order. I'm hoping the IRS takes my electronically filed taxes, because for verification I needed to provide my gross adjusted income from last year, and I don't know where my tax return from last year is, so I just sort of guessed based on an old W2 I did have. Actually, I haven't even looked for last year's tax return. My dad would just say — and he did warn me — keep track of your tax return, don't lose it. Now that I've thought about it for 20 seconds I probably know where it is, I could probably spend 5 minutes digging it up. But I'm always scrambling, and when I'm focused on one thing i'm scared to break my focus, because focus is a precious thing.

You buy something and it turns out to be garbage. In Protagoras, Socrates is warning you off about snake oil, even back then; that's the comparison he makes to Protagoras, he's saying, how do you know Protagoras isn't going to sell you spiritual snake oil?

I would never want to sell anybody snake oil; this is why I can't teach to the test, because that feels like snake oil. This is why testing anything besides fucking math is stupid, because jesus, how can you justify that? It's either trivia, or it's something that feels insane to tell kids is definitely wrong or definitely right. It gives them the wrong idea.

Course, my end goals are crazy, coz don't people really do like watching late night shows, or playing Warhammer? Maybe I only resent people for enjoying themselves because I'm sick. But you buy something and it turns out to be garbage, including medicine, spiritual practices, this and that. I can't trust that I go to a podiatrist from the phone book and they actually care about fixing my feet. I can't trust that anyone can fix my feet, coz no psychiatrist has ever fixed my soul, nor doctor my gut. I feel lonely, and someone tries to love me, and I send them away coz I can't love them back. What am I trying to do with education? I'm trying to create a world in which, had I been born at the right time, I could have been happy.

Well, I won't give into despair. There will be further moments of happiness in my life — perhaps more or perhaps less, but it doesn't matter either way. What matters is the conviction that I am capable of making the world a better place, or that it's at least worth trying to.

I love you with all my heart.

[bathroom-sand]

ya regarding your last post about iheartradio I’ve been confused at some posts I’ve seen saying Taylor has some amount of culpability for this mess just because her name is attached as the concert having problems. I’m not a Taylor stan (meaning I am not blindly praising everything she does I can recognize mistakes, but I do like her) and I just don’t see how this is her fault, for what being popular and having fans? Ticket master has screwed her just as much as they’ve screwed everyone else in this situation. I think people don’t understand the difference between a popular singer who has millions of dollars and a lot of fans and the billionaires who own the world. Like these guys are not sunshine and rainbow people they aren’t about to change their exploitive and wealth hoarding ways just because someone (that they basically own and has no leverage) says please sir I love my fans and I’d like them to all have a good concert buying experience so if you could not monopolize and upcharge and resell that experience I’d really appreciate it. Like they don’t care they are getting their money in all their scummy ways because the government legally authorized them to do it and they are untouchable.

i think a lot of early post were knee jerk reactions to the fiasco. i also think a lot of people just don’t have a holistic understanding of power. they saw taylor swift “take on” spotify and decided she holds the same weight against ticketmaster. ticketmaster has had a choke hold on live entertainment for over 30 years. it’s way more powerful and than spotify (which taylor challenged at the dawn of the streaming era). and despite how big taylor is, she’s still an artist. she doesn’t have that kind of power over a corporation. they can easily fuck her over. if they wanted to they COULD prevent her from touring.

the biggest grips are the new things that happened this time: 6 hour ques that result in no tickets, the amount of errors involved in it (people getting kicked, purchases being denied, codes not working) that caused people to be literally unable to buy tickets, and boosted long term fans getting placed in the ques behind scalpers and bots (to a lesser extent behind casual fans). ALL of these things aren’t her decision. other issues (pricing) is long term and not new for her.

suggested solutions are implausible. some have said she should make her own ticket distribution service or use an alternative to ticketmaster. this can’t work since ticketmaster has exclusive contracts with all major venues. others have said she should keep adding show dates until it stops selling out, but she already doubled the tour and there’s only so much touring the body can handle.

the only reason people were mad was because she was silent about an issue a majority of fans experienced FOR HER. but they expected an immediate response before the day was even over. she has a well tailored response that addresses her feelings about this.

regardless, there’s a big fucking reason multiple state attorneys are looking at taking on ticketmaster. this goes far beyond taylor. it’s just that taylor’s fans are the most current victims of an oppressive entertainment monopoly.

[nicsnort]

Gravita Anima (part 19)

Nightcrawler/Fem!OC/Quicksilver Long-form romance and drama fic. All chapters have been posted on Ao3.

Intro (with link to Ao3 story) First Previous

Pietro’s debriefing in the morning had been far too early, far too long, and far too annoying. To start with, Emma had thought it a great idea to wake him up by talking loudly in his head at seven in the morning. Didn’t she have any idea of the hard work he had been up to last night and the equally leveled reward he gave himself? Worse, he knew Frost only did it because Magneto told her to.

He had left a note for Elle and hoped she wouldn’t do anything stupid. In any case, Riptide was on the cameras now. So Pietro showed up at his father’s office. He hardly spared a glance for the blonde in Victoria’s Secret lingerie. Oh please, he thought, some women just can’t accept aging with grace. Magneto never gave her a second glance and nor did Pietro - well, except one time. Azazel seemed immune and only the younger ones, like Toad, seemed to attend to Frost in a way that had nothing to do with her telepathy. 

“I see you’ve completed your task successfully.” There was an unmistakable dryness to Magneto’s voice.

Pietro shrugged, seeming unbothered. “Hey, got her here, didn’t I? And if I had a bit of fun so what? "Then, unable to resist, he smirked a bit, “I don’t see her friend with you. What happened, Pops? Twist your ankle?” 

Magneto’s death glare didn’t bother Quicksilver too much. There wasn’t much of an audience- Frost didn’t count - so he didn’t mind jabbing the old lion. “Slow and steady wins the race, Pietro.” Magneto reminded him. 

“That implies you even crossing the race one day -- but yeah, sure, whatever you say. So, why am I up this early?”

The older man sat back in his chair. “The X-men visited us, I see. Care to inform us?” Us as in royal, or Us as in him and Frost? Pietro had to pause and wonder if there was something going on...but no, no way. His father had more pride than that...right? Even though he was turned down by the woman last night...he wouldn’t lick his wounds like that...would he?

Pietro laughed. “Nothing to really inform...if they had pitched one more tent in there, it would have been a circus. I got the younger one, Shadowcat, to drink a strong drink, and, uh, she couldn’t hold anything, let alone her liquor. Some idiot touched Rogue -- wish I could take credit for that -- and knocked her out. Crowd freaked out and ran...Blue Balls tried to stop me, but Elle wanted to leave with me...so we left.” It was simple, matter-of-fact. Again, really not a 7 A.M. conversation, but here they were. 

Magneto was smiling. He could appreciate the comedy of errors. “Make sure Elle leaves on a good note if she wants to leave at all. We need her to say nothing but good things to her friend.”

“Right-io.” Pietro gave a mock salute. “Can I head back now?”

“Not yet,” Magneto said, “I have another mission for you before you return to your love nest.”

Pietro sighed. 

~~~~~~

South of DC in Maryland, Elle had taken a shower in the Brotherhood base. She had awoken around 8:30 to an empty bed but a note next to her telling her to make herself comfortable until Pietro returned. With that in mind, Elle had decided that a shower came first. The sweat of last night made her body feel disgustingly sticky. She used the feminine items in the shower and hoped that whomever they belonged to she wouldn’t mind.

Once she was done with her shower and wrapped in towels Elle hurried back to Pietro’s room. The rest of the building was still quiet and she wondered if there was anyone else here. Elle was very tempted to sneak around but she had no idea what to expect. Mostly dry Elle dressed in yesterday’s clothes not wanting to wear anything of Pietro’s and tossed her drying hair up into a ponytail. She spritzed some of her scented water on the clothes to remove some of the sweat smell and made sure she had all her things.

Her phone buzzed and she was just reaching to check it when the door to the room opened.

Pietro opened the door and saw that Elle was there. She wasn’t in bed, naked and waiting as he hoped, but standing, clean, put together, with her items. Pietro tried to ignore the twinge of disappointment he felt. “Morning,” he smiled at her warmly. “Sleep well?”

Elle caught the disappointment he felt and smiled. Good. Keep him off his game. He looked tired as well but he still was friendly. “I did, though I believe passed out would be a better term given how much alcohol I drank.”

The truth was her memory was a bit hazy. She recalled dancing with him and their night of passion but everything between was muddled. In the back of her mind, she thought there was an incident and that someone important showed up...still she remembered enough. Particularly the fact that Pietro was not just a dashing man who was very good with his tongue but that he was also Quicksilver. A member of the Brotherhood. And that he knew she was a mutant and knew her name without her ever introducing herself.

Standing from the bed she walked over to him. “I do remember last night though and your spectacular performance...and if I recall correctly, you have some explanations to give me, Pietro.”

Pietro had to keep his face as still as he could, that grin still on there. “You mean about the whole…?” He was not a man to shoot himself in the foot.

Elle’s smile twitched just a bit with annoyance. Was he going to play dumb? “About the whole, you knew my name without me ever having told you...and about the whole knowledge about what I can do. I’ve been very, very careful about revealing my mutation. How did you know?”

Pietro internally sighed in relief, that was it? He wondered if she had been too drunk to recall the X-men. Perhaps for the best...definitely for the best, he decided. Pietro gave a soft smile as if to ask for forgiveness. He didn’t need to have her gift to sense she was upset. “Oh, I thought you meant about the whole ‘how did I buy you so many drinks without being a penny poorer’ thing.” All about distraction, a wave of the hand elsewhere.

Pietro started to walk around and pick up his clothes from the ground, seeming nonchalant. “It shouldn’t be a surprise,” he said as he tossed his clothes into a bag off in the corner, “that the Brotherhood made it their business to look up every mutant at that protest. Wasn’t hard either. With the news video, the talent...and people talk. We couldn’t account for a few people, one of which was you...so when you left when the X-men did,” and he hoped that wouldn’t trigger a memory, “we thought you might be a mutant...and a talented one.” He smiled at her. “And a beautiful one.” There was no point in pretending the Brotherhood wasn’t as powerful as they were. In fact, he hoped it would...lure her.

The knowledge that the protest had potentially exposed many other mutants to the Brotherhood and not just herself Elle felt her already dry mouth and throat tighten uncomfortably. This was bad, this was really bad. If they could find out about her whose power was completely invisible and nearly imperceptible they truly could find out about any mutant. Wait, that’s right the X-men, she had been talking freely about it there. Could they have a spy in their ranks? The idea of the X-men stirred in the back of her mind, something about last night but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Elle tried very hard not to but a blush did grace her cheeks slightly at his compliments. It was that smile, that damned roguish smile. “Well, congratulations on figuring out what no one else has been able to. You are right, I am talented, but my powers are quite useless besides making sure people have a good time on tours. It is a shame that the Brotherhood would use all their power and information gathering skills for destruction and harming the mutant cause.”

Quicksilver chuckled softly. He had been waiting for this conversation and was pleased to have it now rather than last night. “You just haven’t tapped into your powers fully.” Like father, like son, Quicksilver could be charming and suave when he wanted to. 

“You have a lot of potential...and I’m sure we could work with that. Our telepath, Emma Frost...she’s the one who did the scanning, she knows a few tricks to help with growth.” It was on the tip of his tongue to make an innuendo, but he resisted. Now wasn’t the time. “And we aren’t harming anything...we’re helping our fellow mutants.” 

A telepath. That explains a lot. And that was dangerous depending on the level of power from Frost she would be able to tell if Elle used her powers on them. Elle was just about to argue about the Brotherhood not harming anything when Pietro disappeared from her view. She heard the door open behind her. Turning around, Elle looked at him holding the door open for her. Meet the others. She really was at their base wasn’t she.

Elle immediately cursed her drunken self. Why did she think it was a good idea to try and get information?! Stupid. Stupid! All the activist organizations she has helped could be tainted if the government, if anyone, found out about her being at the Brotherhood base. But still, was it not better than to salvage what she could? Get the information that she could?

Pietro paused, thoughtful. “Maybe you should meet the others before you make such judgments.” Within a blink, he was at the door holding it open. 

_______

Next

[letterstomyex]

May 30, 2024

My dearest S,

Today I woke up very late. I woke up at 7 am, the way I have been doing for a few days now, then went back to sleep. By the time I woke up again, it was past noon. My period is once again in full swing as I decided to stop taking my birth control pills cold turkey. Well, it wasn’t so much a decision as it was an inability to stick to my routine. I momentarily sat down with my dog and pet him, then I went outside and laid in the sun on the cold concrete porch until I decided I looked silly and went back inside. My bedroom awaited me, bed unmade and unwashed, temporarily dark due to the clouds. The window is slightly open, and the room smells of oil paint and paint thinner. Some of my favorite paint brushes sit in a container of thinner, over a week since they were last properly cleaned. This is probably their demise.

One week ago you and I were still each other’s “baby.” This was recognized through text and through the phone call I thought we would have that night. One week ago today you gave me words of encouragement as you got ready for work and I went through my third job interview of the month. One week ago today you told me about the flyer that was made for the show you’re playing in a couple of months, the show we had planned months ago that I would be at. You told me about how encouraging your work friends were about your album that would be released the following day. You told me about the loose plans you and them had to go out and celebrate it after work. I took this with a pang of jealousy, knowing the celebration I was supposed to drive to you for would now be happening without me, and you were once again putting me to the side. “It’s okay,” I thought to myself, “this is only a weird phase and soon enough he will settle back into a good balance between me and all of the other things in his life.”

Today, I sit in my bed, hour after hour with nothing to do. The birds sing and the sun shines mercilessly outside my shut blinds. I am no longer within any right to expect an update on your day. I try to opt out of using social media, yet find myself logging into my more innocuous accounts to look at your stories. I ponder whether continuing this way is best for us, or if I should put myself to the side once again in order to fulfill your wants of staying present in each other’s lives. Yesterday was my first day without hearing from you at all, since October of 2022, and today isn’t any easier. I am unable to listen to any music, as everything I like is likely to remind me of you in some capacity. The items that decorate my room and the ones that sit on the ground and out of place, I can’t interact with, because so many of them you gave to me or I bought alongside you. I can’t do my laundry without thinking of the time you stayed on the phone with me while I walked in the rain to get my laundry. I can’t shower without thinking about the last shower I took in your house, feeling empty and weighed down by a heavy sense of impending doom.

The books sitting on my coffee table that my siblings used in Sunday school only remind me of the way I was planning on converting to your religion, making myself the best fit possible for your life. My most recent favorite band, that previously provided nothing but comfort, only reminds me of the second to last drive I made to your town. It was the most frustrating drive I have ever made in my life. Long, rainy, dreary for no reason. I got through five albums from said band’s discography.

Yet, despite the memories of what it felt like to be stuck in rainy traffic, crying my eyes out because I just wanted to make it into your arms, I would give up all of my belongings to be making that drive again. I would rewind to that time in our lives over and over again, as it was a time in which I felt nothing but hope for our future, your love and care and sweetness awaiting me. I wouldn’t mind being permanently stuck in the latter half of my junior year of college on a loop for all of eternity if it meant you were there to catch me and hold me and tell me you love me at every fall. I would do anything to be your perfect dream girl, your cheerleader, your true love. And you seem to think I have, but if I truly had, you would be fighting for us. If you loved me the way you said you did, you would have never given up on me.

Love, M.