I dunno why but it's one of the funniest moments in TF:Exodus. Like, the way Megatron just ignores Shockwsve's words makes me think it wasn't the first time. Like "yeah, yeah, you might desire to conduct an inhumane experiment on me, but check out my new name".
But Shockwave and Soundwave are such good besties. No questions asked, just be who u wanna be.
Also my personal hc that Shockwave and Megatron met through Soundwave. 2waves already knew each other, cuz Shock used to patch Sound up. And after Megatronus fought Soundwave, the latter was very interested in his opponent, so he sent Laserbeak Rumble and Frenzy to spy on the best gladiator. He wasn't really happy with cassettes following him, but once they explained themselves he decided to meet with Soundwave again. After they've gotten closer and became brothers in arm, Sound decided to introduce gladiator doctor/unhumain scientist. Megatron really wasn't happy with Shockwave using gladiator's corpses for his own caprice. Yet he was still useful for the cause so he had to tolerate scientist. After all of them became kinda close. They had a very strange type of friendship, but it worked and no one complained.
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some of you are legitimately insane and need to take a step back and get off tumblr and social media and go outside and live a life that is your own and stop living through popstars. you guys specially need to stop being upset about scenarios you made up in your head about people you don't know, but oh well
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there's a video on instagram of a man kicking his partner's door in. the top comment is (with over 4 thousand likes): "how about you tell us what you did to make him that angry?"
barring emergency, nobody should be kicking anybody's door in. many of us lived in houses where it was always, somehow, an emergency. there is a strange, almost hysterical calm that comes over you in that moment - everything feels muted, and you almost feel, however incongruently, like you should be laughing. you are living inside of "the emergency." oh my god, you think. i am now a fucking statistic.
there is another comment with 2.8 thousand likes: "if this was a woman doing it to a man, nobody would give a shit."
do people give a shit now, though?
barring emergency, the door should remain standing. the emergency should be panicked, desperate - "i'm coming in there to protect you." many of us know what it feels like when the emergency is instead "i'm coming in there to get you."
1.5k likes: "and yet you post this for notes. glad to see being the victim has become your whole personality."
hysteria is a word connected to womb, from greek. what you're experiencing is so senseless and inhumane that you (a rational creature) try to find any ground within what is irrational and cannot be explained. one of the most frustrating things about staying in bad situations is that we also lie to ourselves. we also ask ourselves - wow. what did i do?
women can be, and often are, also abusers. abuse is not gendered. abuse is not just a "straight person" problem. abuse does not have a face or figure or sexuality. you cannot pick an abuser out of a crowd. an abuser could be actually anybody.
and then so many people rally behind the man kicking the door in. here is something nobody should be doing, right? you want to ask every person that liked that first comment: do you ask this because you side with him? do you ask this because it helps you feel safe from this ever happening?
in some ways, you're weirdly sympathetic to the top comment, because it is the same logic you see frequently. the idea is that the average, normal, sane person doesn't just break down a door. doesn't just shoot up a school. doesn't stalk and kill women. doesn't threaten sexual assault. doesn't run over protesters. doesn't shoot an unarmed black person. doesn't scream at underpaid walmart employees. doesn't just "lose it". something had to have happened, right? because the default (white. straight. cis.) - that is someone who is always, you know. "sane."
(right?)
on a podcast, you hear a sane, normal, rational person. "if you piss me off, i'm going to need to hit something. sorry but i'm not apologizing. that's just who i am that's how it is." his voice almost sounds like he's laughing.
you think of the door, and how you were almost laughing behind it, too. ironically, every real emergency in your life has almost felt peaceful in comparison. fire, car accident, flash flooding - these felt quiet, covenant to you. you'd stood in all of them, feeling them pass over and up to your chin, never actually overwhelming.
but when the door was coming down, you had felt - is there a word for that? there has to be, a word, right.
surely one of us has figured out the word for that, i mean. it's such a large fucking statistic.
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reader crying her eyes out because rafe yelled at her..so me omg😢
guys help I made the situation for this so dark 😭
It happens after you’d accidentally walked in on doing some of his business, or as any sane person would call it, hiding a dead body.
you’re in shock, shaking with pure terror as he drags you inside. “I fucking told you— no look at me.” he grabs you by the shoulders once you’re inside “I told you not to bother me while I’m working. right— and you ignored me.”
“Rafe-” you whimper, trying your best not to fall apart then and there. he cuts you off, yelling now, “no. I’m talking now. you do not get to do that! all of this shit I do— all of it is for you, okay? It’s to keep you safe. I cannot fucking do that if you’re getting your nose in business that isn’t yours. so now we’re both in trouble. and that’s on you.” he steps back, chest heaving as he runs one hand through his hair.
you look up at him, lip wobbling as the tears begin to fall. “I’m sorry.” you wail, officially letting the waterworks go.
he looks down for a second before sighing “alright… alright. don’t cry, okay? you’re fine.” he steps forward, hovering a hand over your shoulder before bringing you into his arms.
you cry into his chest, clinging to him desperately. you’re so terrified, and even though he’s the one who your caught carrying a corpse, you can’t help but seek comfort in him. maybe it’s manipulative of him, but you’ll worry about that another day.
“what- why were you- I don’t understand!” you sob, doing your best to make eye contact with him but failing. he doesn’t answer your question, he just shushes you, pulling you back into his embrace and kissing your temple.
“I’ll explain it alll later baby… but uh— for now… why don’t you try calm down then.. we can get ready to go on a little vacation for a bit, that sound good to you?”
you think it over for a moment, because realistically it sounds like he wants to take you with him while he lays low from the cops, but at this point you cannot even think logically, you just want Rafe. “sounds good.” you nod, sniffling sadly.
“good… okay, good. c’mon let’s get you calmed down. go wait on the bed a’ight”
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IMAGINE AN AU WHERE THOMAS AND MARTHA COME BACK TO LIFE??? No magic explains it. No science CAN.
Tim is wrecking his brains trying to find a logical, sane reason as to why his dead grandparents (who aren't dead - for the time being) are currently sitting in the living room, eating Alfred's cookies, and looking around for Bruce
" Chum?! Chum! It's dad! Come here! Who's this in our living room?"
" Bruce! Mommy's home! I'm sorry for being gone for so long, but that movie was just so long, I-"
Tim freezes. They think Bruce is still eight.
And Bruce walks in; drawn by the noise and Alfred's attempts to sit the pair down.
More wound than man, drowning in a dark shirt and sweatpants, eyes punched purple and dark red and bruised to hell and back;
His arm is broken, his leg too, and Tim knows for a fact he shouldn't be walking around with those five broken ribs. But God, - he's never seen his dad look so tiny before; So glassy-eyed and shaken.
For the love of all that's holy let Martha Wayne gently frame Bruce's face with her hands and stare at him, dusting off time with her eyes, and let Thomas do the same.
"...Mama?"
" ...BRUCE?!"
LET THOMAS AND MARTHA BE PROTECTIVE AS FUCK OVER THEIR SON! LET THEM MEET THEIR GRANDKIDS! Let Thomas " Catch These Hands" Wayne and Jason " Catch This Murder" Todd BOND.
" Look, I know what you're going to say, Gramps. I shouldn't blame dad for not wanting to kill Joker,"
" Yes, but that's behind us, big guy"
" And that murder isn't the answer and that I should just move on, but,-"
" Oh, no! That guy's a monster and we need to put him down. What's his address?"
GIVE ME BRUCE AND MARTHA PLAYING PIANO TOGETHER WHILE CASS FORCES DAMIAN INTO A DANCE WITH HER! GIVE ME MARTHA MAKING DICK BLUSH BY ASKING ABOUT " this pretty Kori girl in your phone"
Most importantly, give me Thomas and Martha Wayne trying to convince Bruce to give up Batman. Thomas says it'd be an easy enough job, someone else can do it! Bruce pouts, " Try doing it, then"
Thomas almost breaks his back by pretending to be Batman for like a night and becomes the new meme of Gotham when he steals a shotgun from Alfred and just patrols with it
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