#goes up exponentially in ‘support groups’ like this

[genderkoolaid]

sorry if you've talked about it already, but what is it that makes KOSA's idea of online safety wrong? I don't know much about the bill, what does it intend to do?

What do you think is a good way to protect kids from things like online predators or just seeing things that they shouldn't be seeing? (By which I mean sex and graphic violence, things which you'd need to be 16+ to see in a movie theater so I think it makes sense to not want pre-teens to see it)

From stopkosa.com:

Why is KOSA a bad bill? KOSA uses two methods to “protect” kids, and both of them are awful. First, KOSA would incentivize social media platforms to erase content that could be deemed “inappropriate” for minors. The problem is: there is no consensus on what is inappropriate for minors. All across the country we are seeing how lawmakers are attacking young people’s access to gender affirming healthcare, sex education, birth control, and abortion. Online communities and resources that queer and trans youth depend on as lifelines should not be subject to the whims of the most rightwing extremist powers and we shouldn’t give them another tool to harm marginalized communities.  Second, KOSA would ramp up the online surveillance of all internet users by expanding the use of age verification and parental monitoring tools. Not only are these tools needlessly invasive, they’re a massive safety risk for young people who could be trying to escape domestic violence and abuse.

I’ve heard there’s a new version of KOSA. What’s the deal? The new version of KOSA makes some good changes: narrowing the ability of rightwing attorneys general to weaponize KOSA to target content they don’t like and limiting the problematic “duty of care. However, because the bill is still not content neutral, KOSA still invites the harms that civil rights advocates have warned about. As LGBTQ and reproductive rights groups have said for months, the fundamental problem with KOSA is that its “duty of care” covers content specific aspects of content recommendation systems, and the new changes fail to address that. In fact, personalized recommendation systems are explicitly listed under the definition of a design feature covered by the duty of care in the new version. This means that a future Federal Trade Commission (FTC) could still use KOSA to pressure platforms into automated filtering of important, but controversial topics like LGBTQ issues and abortion, by claiming that algorithmically recommending such content “causes” mental health outcomes that are covered by the duty of care like anxiety and depression. Bans on inclusive books, abortion, and gender affirming healthcare have been passed on exactly that kind of rhetoric in many states recently. And we know that already existing content filtering systems impact content from marginalized creators exponentially more, resulting in discrimination and censorship. It’s also important to remember that algorithmic recommendation includes, for example, showing a user a post from a friend that they follow, since most platforms do not show all users all posts, but curate them in some way. As long as KOSA’s duty of care isn’t content neutral, platforms will be likely to react the same way that they did to the broad liability imposed by SESTA/FOSTA: by engaging in aggressive filtering and suppression of important, and in some cases lifesaving, content.

Why it's bad:

The way it's written (even after being changed, which the website also goes over), it is still possible for this law to be used to restrict things like queer content, discussion of reproductive rights and resources, and sexual education.

It will restrict youth's ability to use the Internet independently, essentially cutting off life support to many vulnerable people who rely on the Internet to learn that they are queer, being abused, disabled, etc.

Better alternatives:

Stop relying on ageist ideas of purity and innocence. When we focus on protecting the "purity" of youth, we dehumanize them and it becomes more about soothing adult anxieties than actually improving the lives of children.

Making sure content (sexual, violent, etc.) is marked/tagged and made avoidable for anyone who doesn't want to engage with it.

Teach children why certain things may be upsetting and how best to avoid those things.

Teach children how to recognize grooming and abuse and empower them to stop it themselves.

Teach children how to recognize fear, discomfort, trauma, and how to cope with those experiences.

The Internet makes a great boogeyman. But the idea that it is uniquely corrupting the Pure Innocent Youth relies on the idea that all children are middle-class suburban White kids from otherwise happy homes. What about the children who see police brutality on their front lawns, against their family members? How are we protecting them from being traumatized? Or children who are seeing and experiencing physical and sexual violence in their own homes, by the parents who prevent them from realizing what's happening by restricting their Internet usage? How does strengthening parent's rights stop those kids from being groomed? Or the kids who grow up in evangelical Christian homes and are given graphic descriptions of the horrors of the Apocalypse and told if they ever question their parents, they'll be left behind?

Children live in the same world we do. There are children who are already intimately aware of violence and "adult" topics because of their lived experiences. Actually protecting children means being concerned about THEIR human rights, it means empowering them to save themselves, it means giving them the tools to understand their own feelings and traumas. KOSA is just another in a long line of attempts to "save the children!" by dehumanizing them and giving more power to the people most likely to abuse them. We need to stop trying to protect children's "innocence" and appreciate that children are already growing, changing people, learning to deal with discomfort and pain and the weight of the world the same as everyone else. What people often think keeps kids safe really just keeps them ignorant and quiet.

Another explanation as to why it's bad:

#m. #ask box

[retfarcyroeht]

Making a Case for Chroma in 2022 (Warframe)

Chroma is another frame that gets dumped on; most likely because it lacks a versatile (jack-of-all-trades) kit and gets labeled as a one trick pony.

It doesn't help that two of its abilities are energy eating channelers; with one of them being its t1. Spectral Scream actually has the hallmarks of a t4 channel ability (like Sol Gate); so, as a t1, it's actually pretty solid. If they ditched the channel in favor of a duration, it would be exponentially better.

In it's current form, tier and standard use, however, Spectral Scream struggles to keep up with the damage any weapon Chroma may equip.

Let's take it out of its comfort zone though. What else can it do? With a 100% status chance and a 10m radial spread, it can spread damage, DoTs and cc over a small area.

Its element switching allows you to optimize it for specific factions and situations; granting better damage and survivability.

Most importantly, you can melee while Scream is active; giving a slight boost to CO builds, some back up DPS and giving yourself a zone of control wherever you go.

Elemental Ward is a mixed bag. Although it can buff your teammates (quadding up your auras effect, in some cases), the team either has to stay close to you or you gotta grab the Everlasting Ward augment to remain team viable.

The trend is using Cold Ward for the armor boost and counteroffensive slows and damage. Heat and Electric lack the same staying power as Toxic or Cold and Toxic may be a bit niche.

Effigy gets a lot of style points but is both limited and penalizing in its usage. It reduces your armor, access to energy and mobility (being that it's a stationary strafe cannon).

For that cost, you get minimal damage, a bit of speed and some spare change. Out of Chroma s two energy guzzlers, this is the one I end up infusing over

Finally, the pony; Vex Armor. Great solo armor and damage buff but teammates need to be close to reap its benefits.

Chroma is a naughty frame that needs the pain to be at his best. The original sado-masochist edgelord.

And we need to play into that to help Chroma be competitive with other frames in 2022.

Combat Discipline allows Chroma to feed his pain by inflicting it on others. I believe this is the only remaining way to inflict self damage?

Rage; eat pain like a Rihanna song.

Arcane Avenger; because great art requires a bit of pain.

The Umbral set gives you a workable baseline for beginners face tanking. Adaptation supports your high armor. Primed Sure Footed rounds out your survivability/DPS maintenance.

I have two spots left. Without infusion, I lean into strength (range, for teaming) or the non-nullifiable armor bonus of Health Conversion. Otherwise, it depends on the infusion (and it's relevant augments) or playstyle.

Although people are using the introduction of gun arcanes and newish gun buff mods to downplay Chroma's Vex Armor buff; there are some things you should probably keep in mind...

Gunplay is not the only play; melee gets the damage buff as well.

Not everyone has fully ranked gun arcanes or the (newish) gun buff mods.

Not everyone has arcane adapters for all of their favorite guns.

Gun arcanes/mods do not invalidate Vex Armor (or vice versa); there may be diminishing returns but more damage is more damage (and the new gun toys don't buff your DR).

With so much base damage being buffed in externally, maybe you could use the freed up mod slots for elemental, crit, multishot or multiple Bane mods (for those that can't be bothered with switching them out constantly, lol)

This goes for solo players and some of your potential teammates.

Infusions?

Sentient Wrath for cc and a multiplicative boost to your damage.

Pillage aids in your survivability and gives you a silent DPS boost.

Airburst for grouping and when you want your pistol to do even more damage.

Nourish for healing and more damage.

Etc, etc

#warframe #chroma #chroma prime

[mdhwrites]

Jumbled Thoughts: The Ensemble Problem

Leader, Lancer, Heart, Brains, Big Guy.

The most traditional form of the 5 man band of adventurers and the core of any ensemble cast. It is one of the oldest archtypes out there but bizarrely it comes with also one of the greatest problems in writing and one that's weirdly more about math than anything else.

After all, the amount of time required to make each character feel like an active part of a story isn't additive with each character in your primary cast. It's exponential.

But let's actually back up for a second and define terms. After all, I'm here to talk about Ensembles, right? What are those? Well, it actually can have a lot of meanings from gesturing to the entire supporting cast, simply those in the background, etc. like that. I'm specifically focusing on the ensemble cast though where you are talking about a wide primary cast made up commonly of a main character and then primary side characters. Regardless of their labeling, all of these are genuinely important characters.

In which lies the problem. See, for a character to feel important is a rough problem. A comic relief character can show up as much or more often than your primary love interest but they won't feel important just because of that. Usually, to feel important they need to some extent feel like they're alive and a part of things and one of the core ways to do this is to have them responding and interacting with other characters rather than just standing in the back, blankly staring into the void as they wonder what they're doing with their life. They have an entire tragic backstory but they haven't said a word in three episodes because the writers haven't remembered they might have something to do here or, worse yet, that they may trivialize the problem. They are simply trapped, lost in purgatory.

And purgatory is not what an important character should be trapped in. But as you get more characters in the group, they quite literally consume time and effort in order to have react to things. In just a five man band, every time the smart one gives out a plan, do you really need all four to give affirmation? When the silly one of the group does something dumb, how many characters do you have react to that before it gets tedious? How many people need to panic about the heart being kidnapped? Because with each character you add to that number, you risk having them say something that should incite banter which can already drag out something that feels superfluous to the audience out even longer. So how do you fix this time problem?

There are two main ways most media goes about solving this. The first is just straight up being willing to recognize who isn't important in the story. Who are your side characters even within the ensemble. For most five man bands, this is the smart guy and the big guy. Each one might get like one episode a piece each season but they aren't getting the multi-part arc that really ties deeply into the plot of the show like the Lancer, Heart and Leader and that's a MAYBE on the heart since she's commonly just the love interest.

This version is actually a lot more frustrating the more invested you are in something and the more the show tries to build up these characters early on as being important. The Owl House does this with Willow and Gus, one of whom literally doesn't get episodes focused on her, not properly bare minimum, while the other gets one MAYBE every half season. The problem is that they were introduced first as the main character Luz's best friends and possibly her first friends in a while and post S1 of that show they mostly just vanish, let alone when it comes to Luz or the plot. The show just shuffles them off to the side and a LOT of people got pissed about it in that fandom because, well... Why wouldn't you? They seemed like a big deal and were just discarded for the most part.

However, from a strictly objective writing standpoint, it is better to recognize when you have vestigial characters and cut them away. That way you have more time to spend on your primary cast and let them help when it's needed. Done gracefully even, this can be great as a character feels like they bow out of the limelight more naturally because they as a character would do that.

The one that is often FAR worse from a strict writing perspective is smashing characters in your ensemble into what are effectively groups that simplify interactions. That way you're not dealing with a wide cast, you actually only have a narrow amount of groups of people. It often requires boiling down to their most basic traits so as to have simplified interactions that can start following a formula with how the groups interact. The more groupings, the more complex the storytelling admittedly and groups for the characters is not essentially bad. It's when you use it not for exploring group dynamics but specifically to treat it like you have less characters to write because it homogeneity.

Persona 5 actually has a lot of its main content writing fall apart because of this. The game is smart in that it doesn't want to balloon the time cutscenes take even as you eventually double your main cast from what you have at the beginning but how they do it is kind of awful. It's split between effectively the main characters, who aren't the ones your controlling because you play a voice protagonist in that, the dudes, and the ladies with their being some overlap.

You can probably see the problem with making these groups. It's made worse by the fact that the guys are categorically the comic relief and so there are entire scenes dedicated to shitting on one of the dudes for the same trait over and over again. You have objectifying the girls so the guys can be pervs like teenagers are. You have two characters who do 90% of the plot talking for the majority of the game, and eventually are finally joined by the one dude not treated as a joke, and the rest of them just kind of sit there. Worse yet is that a sexual harassment victim is one of the girls but NOT a main character so for the majority of the game, she is just a sex object effectively and it's REAL uncomfortable.

So how do you get around these problems? Well, the first is to understand the scope of your story. How long is it going to be? That length effectively determines how many characters you CAN have in your primary cast. If you're doing five one hour specials, it's probably best just to keep it to a pair of main characters and a primary antagonist with side characters coming in and out to help facilitate the plot. If you're a passion project that's updating with a chapter every week for upwards of a decade? Go fucking crazy because you have all the time in the god damn world to make these characters feel fleshed out and important, though your pacing will probably suffer for it. Hello One Piece (I can't say too much here because I don't have a deep familiarity with it.)

The second is to recognize how important every character is from the get go and treating them with that level of importance. To make sure you sunset a character properly instead of just shipping them off to a peace conference ala Power Rangers. That way you don't give incorrect expectations for your audience and you can trim the cast as is required. If you recognize early on that someone needs to be around for a few episodes to introduce some elements and familiarize your MC with things they need for their longer journey but would be detrimental to have around for the grander arc, you need to prepare a reason they won't continue to be a part of the story.

This is part of the reason why a LOOOOOOT mentors straight up die. And arguably it's why Marcy is effectively killed in Amphibia because while she couldn't literally die, her continued existence is important to tone and other character's motivations, she herself has no purpose in the plot anymore besides being a background motivator. That isn't to say it was a great choice but it did allow the story to continue to focus on the characters and elements that were more important to the overall story without having her just sitting in the background questioning her existence. Or sleeping like Persona 5 literally has one character do for upwards of twenty days due to gameplay mechanics. Not a coma... Sleeping.

You are never going to please everyone with an ensemble though. By the nature of an ensemble's wide appeal, there's a reason they're used so much, some people are always going to be upset to see their favorites sidelined or simplified simply for the sake of narrative tidiness. Accepting this early on will help free you on just making sure each characters gets the run they should for the sake of your story. After all, even for a character first writer like me, you have to eventually get your story done. You can't spend eternity on every character without something else suffering... Commonly pacing admittedly.

So just try and be mindful and when you're making your ensemble, make sure to ask just how many characters you need for it because you don't want to make this problem any harder for yourself than it has to be.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#jumbled thoughts #writing analysis #Ensemble Casts

[racingtoaredlight]

How I Break Down Jazz Changes

Here’s a lead sheet for a song that every jazz musician will play thousands of times over their lives.  It’s an intermediate difficulty song featuring key changes that make it ideal to improvize over.  It’s challenging enough to stay somewhat interesting, but easy and open enough to offer virtually endless combinations.  That’s why it’s been a staple in the jazz word forever.

But what exactly are we looking at here?  How does that translate into this?

***

This is what I do in my head when I first look at a piece of new music.

I absolutely, do not, in any way whatsoever, look at this piece of music and start at the beginning.  If you look at jazz from a linear perspective, you’ll get lost before the first A section is done.  Think of this more as crossing a river with step stones...

When you walk on land, you don’t really think too much about your next steps.  You’re not really concerned about falling into a river walking down a sidewalk.  But when you’re walking on step stones, you’re looking around to where your next step is because if you misstep, you’re gonna get drenched.

Same thing in improvizing in jazz.  Improvizing in a jam band, country, blues, rock, etc setting is like walking on land.  Set it and forget it.  You don’t have to worry about getting drenched because there are no hazards.  Key changes are hazards, and jazz is chock full of em.

So what are we looking at above?

Each colored bracket is its own key.  The circle is the tonic, the arrow points to the chord I’m playing off of for the whole section, the slashes indicate where things are technically in the same key but there’s a different treatment (the highlighted portion), and the blue dots are next to chords that I will add alterations to every time.

All of this is done first glance.  The blue dots are for illustrative purposes, because at this point, I automatically add all sorts of shit to every dominant chord as standard practice.  It just sounds more interesting.

So what’s the point of this?

***

All the thought process above does is to simplify and break down a song’s harmony into something far more easily digestible.

What’s easier to improvize over?  32-34 separate chords...not thinking about how they relate to each other...going by anywhere up to 200 beats per minute?  Or thinking about four big tonal centers?

Now this isn’t the entire story...this is just getting you to the ballpark.  Once you’re in the ballpark you can get more granular...but you gotta get there first.  And by taking small bits of data, looking at them from a higher perspective, and grouping them into related categories makes data processing exponentially faster during times when you aren’t afforded the opportunity to stop and think.

***

Why does this work?

Throughout western musical history, the V and I have been linked...doesn’t matter if you’re talking Bach or Buddy Guy, not only are they linked the same, but they operate the exact same way.  The 3rd in the V chord leads chromatically to the tonic...because of that, logically, your mind will always (and I mean always) “resolve” that V to the I.

This relationship is less true of the ii (or IV) chords, which are treated as somewhat ornamental chords that support either the V or the I.  Typically ii-V-I’s cover 4 bars (in this case, AATYA goes to the Dbmaj7, which is the IV of Ab, and diatonically in the same key, being able to be treated identically)...and by condensing the harmony before hand, you can turn four bars of thought into one big one.

***

Obviously there’s more to it than this.

You can’t simply noodle around aimlessly in Ab major and expect something coherent to come of it.  But you can focus on the dominant chord for the whole part knowing that what you’re doing with that chord will naturally resolve to the I, putting you in a very advantageous position.

When I break shit down like this, and see a huge multi-bar chunk of Ab major, my brain taps into my reservoir of melodic ideas and uses whatever it grabs first.  Those ideas might be melodies built off Ab, it might be highlighting every chord in that progression, it might be adding chromatic things...

Point being, I’m not really even thinking about Ab at all at this point.  Because that reservoir isn’t related to keys, rather overarching philosophies.  Those same melodies in Ab are easily and immediately able to be played in Db major...or F...or B major.  They’re able to be transposed to minor keys.  Or the different modes.  Or I could play like three different blues scales off any of them for a different sound.

It gives your mental computer parameters by which to operate.  Much like creating a tree of various subfolders, breaking a sheet down like this makes it easier for your brain to find the shit it’s looking for beforehand.

And while I’ll legit say “from there, it doesn’t really matter what you play,” it still does.  When I say that, what I’m referring to is that it doesn’t matter what melodies you pull out of your “major” or “minor” or “blues” folder, as long as it’s from that folder.

***

This is a tested process.

Last year, I was at an after-hours jam session at a jazz club that had some legit talent show up.  I was on stage with a drummer, bassist, two saxes, a trumpet and a pianist...playing a song that I was somewhat familar with, but didn’t have memorized.

We’re all talking about what we’re going to play, but the pianist is a very nice but kinda weird guy, and his tablet was somehow stuck on this song in C# minor...a key that it might never have been played in outside of a practice room.  The rest of us all looked at each other like “uhhhh...”

But we played it in C# minor.  And I was transposing this song in my head using this exact same process...and my solo was killer.  This method is a really good way for musicians to break down tricky songs quickly, and be able to improvize over them with the least amount of obstacles in their way.  And it holds up under pressure.

It’s not rocket science...they’re really simple concepts that are easy to understand and put into place immediately.  Granted, the rest of the equation...building up that vocabulary of musical ideas to the point they’re second nature...is really fucking hard, but the basics aren’t.  You look at those chords individually and it’s going to be a more difficult time than thinking of 4 overarching tonal centers, period.

And once you understand how to operate inside those tonal centers, then all you have to do is turn your brain off and let it rip.

[tittaapt]

Winamp mac

WINAMP MAC MOVIE

WINAMP MAC SERIES

And if Armchair Revolutionary is right and millions of people join up, it could be easy to raise the kind of money that will help get a significant number of the projects the organization wants to fund off the ground.To begin with, however, it will focus on three projects. But at that price, Hauter suggested, large numbers of people could decide that it's worth opening up their pocketbooks.

WINAMP MAC MOVIE

And two years ago, the partners, along with fellow co-founder and former Wall Street CPA Paris Hauter, set about to build Armchair Revolutionary as a way of crowdsourcing microdonations and supporting the super geeks with the best ideas but not enough money.Besides Bender, the project's other advisers include Scott Burns, a producer on "An Inconvenient Truth" and the screenwriter of the movie "The Bourne Ultimatum" and "The Informant " Robin Hunicke, the producer of Electronic Arts' MySims and the Steven Spielberg project Boom Blox and Susan Bonds, the president of 42 Entertainment, long one of the best-known makers of alternate-reality games.On the one hand, it's hard to imagine what good a bunch of 99-cent gifts can do. Hauter, a former agent-trainee with United Talent Agency, and his partner at The Hollywood Hill, Ori Neidich, who works for DreamWorks Animation, were inspired by the ability of organizations like to raise substantial amounts of money in very short periods of time over the Internet, as well as by the exponential growth of social networks like Facebook. "One or two is not enough to change the world," Hauter said. And while that increasing awareness has brought those innovators together with wealthy benefactors, particularly in environments like the TED conferences, there remains a substantial gap between many of the people researching ways to impact our biggest problems and the funding that can help them manifest their visions.In general, said Ariel Hauter, one of the three co-founders of Armchair Revolutionary, independent researchers are often unable to make their world-changing ideas a reality because of weaknesses in the systems for financing, commercializing, and deploying and marketing such work.Yet, in order for these types of projects to attack enough problems to make a difference, Hauter continued, it's necessary to find the financial support to get behind many dozens of projects a year. That can only be good."A substantial gapThese days, it has become widely recognized that the people who are doing the work that could best solve the biggest problems in problem areas like health care, the environment, education, water, hunger and the like are scientists and engineers. So this is an example of a group of young people coming together, using Hollywood and Silicon Valley as a launching point to engage people, and I think it's exciting. "And a couple generations ago, it was Lew Wasserman here in Hollywood, and Arianna Huffington is one of the leaders of that now, and it goes on. By contrast, by building a substantial competitive game element into Armchair Revolutionary, limiting gifts to 99 cents and providing plenty of participatory opportunities and rewards, the platform's founders believe they have found a way to support the "super geeks" who are developing the science and the technology that could help humanity dig out from some of our biggest problems."Every generation or so, new groups of people come around who find a way to make a difference," said Lawrence Bender, the producer of films like "Pulp Fiction" and "Inglourious Basterds" and an Armchair Revolutionary adviser.

WINAMP MAC SERIES

Want to change the world but only have 99 cents? Armchair Revolutionary is here to help.Set to launch into beta on Tuesday, Armchair Revolutionary is a Web-based social activism platform designed to harness large-scale crowdsourcing and the boom in social gaming in a bid to support a wide variety of science and technology ventures that could benefit the world at large.Started by the founders of The Hollywood Hill, said to be the largest social change membership organization in the entertainment-industry, Armchair Revolutionary is meant to bring people's interest in helping support worthwhile causes and the iTunes-era simplicity of spending 99 cents on something intriguing together with innovators who need funding to get potentially world-changing projects off the ground.Built around a series of eight social activism tasks-gifting, VoIP phone calling, e-mailing, uploading, downloading, voting, forms, and quizzes-Armchair Revolutionary is seen by its creators as a one-stop shop for today's Web savvy and altruistic communities to make a big difference, one small step at a time.The value proposition? That today's existing Web-based social activism efforts suffer from a combination of being boring of wasting too much money on transaction fees and asking for too much to get mass participation of not rewarding that participation and much more. Crowdsourcing start-up aims to change the world

#Winamp mac

[itsclydebitches]

Rewatching RWBY there's this chilling lack of empathy through the volumes that I used to just wave off. Yang has no empathy for Tai, Blake is just entirely about what Blake needs, Weiss almost kills a woman at a party and her takeaway is 'my dad is mean so I'm going to run away'. Qrow sinks hard into depression in vol. 6 and Ruby's reaction is to yell she's never needed him. No one has EVER helped a civilian. It's so prevelant. Knowing how 7&8 go really changes the earlier writing.

I think there was a great deal of well-written empathy in the early volumes — after all, this cast was designed as the kind, well-meaning heroes — but that care was expressed almost solely within the group itself. Ruby sits by Jaune in the hallway and says "Nope!" to his self doubt. Weiss offers Ruby a hand up after she fails to kill the death stalker. Yang seeks out Blake and gets her to open up about what's bothering her. Now, I want to emphasize that there's nothing inherently wrong with this. It actually makes perfect sense. These are our main characters and they're written as peers co-habiting the same space. Of course whatever emotional growth we get, which automatically includes moments of compassion, would be directed towards each other. Similarly, the dynamics originally introduced — that of teachers and parents — likewise (rightly) puts the burden on the adults to provide the comfort, not the other way around. Port snaps Weiss out of her arrogant mindset. Ozpin reassures Ruby about her leadership worries. Tai is there to support his daughter when she's recovering from a lost limb. That's the natural order of things, so to speak.

The problem, to my mind, begins to occur when the group exits those dynamics. They're no longer students, they're licensed huntsmen. They're no longer kids, but equals who never needed adults in the first place. They're no longer doing things for themselves and their friends on personal downtime, they're doing them for the community at large as a profession (to say nothing of the world-altering war they've insisted on shouldering responsibility for). That's what a huntsmen is meant to be, a defender of the people, not someone who uses that power for personal interests alone. All of this is a huge change from where we started out: cutesy kids going off on comparatively low-stakes adventures because one or more of their teammates are invested, only just beginning to realize that they're signing up for a job where their desires come second (that fireside conversation at Mountain Glenn).

This change invites — demands, really — that the audience read them differently too. Qrow's spiral in Volume 6 is a good example of this. If Ruby is demanding to be treated not just as an equal in terms of maturity and experience, but also as the primary leader of this group, then the viewer expects her to treat her uncle as an equal too, not dismiss his hardship. I've seen numerous fans defend that arc with some version of, "He's her uncle. He's supposed to take care of her. He's failing" but that, according to the show, is no longer the dynamic. Qrow is now just a member of Ruby's team, someone she's responsible for as their leader. It's easiest to see the problem if we switch out Qrow for any of the other members. If Blake developed a drinking problem, do we think Ruby would just shout at her until she magically got over it? If Jaune endangered the group, do we think they'd all be angry about it, rather than trying to figure out the source of what caused the mistake? We don't even need to think hypothetically for that one because we saw it on screen. Jaune attacked Oscar and drove him off, not just threatening him, but arguably endangering the whole team by requiring a search party. Fans have long insisted they had to steal that airship right then because being in Argus was too much of a risk, but if we buy that reading (which I personally don't, but), then that means Jaune made things exponentially worse by forcing them out into that super dangerous city, rather than allowing everyone to stay hidden inside. He made a massive mistake which, according to the logic of Qrow's arc, should be met with frustration, disdain, and eventual demands to get over his anger at Ozpin or ship out. But, of course, he received nothing but concern. Yang was worried about him, not Oscar. The search becomes about his grief for Pyrrha and his team's willingness (as well as Pyrrha's family member) to provide more comfort. Suddenly, the tendency to express care solely towards those within the group becomes a flaw the story won't acknowledge.

And then it spirals. The thing to remember is that no single act here is bad on its own, especially when we consider that yes, we want flawed characters. Rather, it's about the pattern. Ruby is allowed to get mad at Qrow for his behavior and chuck her scroll in frustration. She's human. I'd be crazy frustrated too. However, if Ruby is meant to be written as a caring, sympathetic character, she should not only respond to the situation with frustration, yelling, a refusal to listen, and demands that he follow her lead, no questions asked. We can, and should, acknowledge that Weiss was the victim during that party. Her father was hurting her, the woman was beyond insensitive, Weiss was triggered in regards to a horrific event, and her power acted on its own. However, if we want to write Weiss as a compassionate, mature huntress to-be, she should acknowledge that she nearly killed someone — even an asshole someone — and vow to work on her control because she's not willing to put someone in danger like that ever again. Both of these moments have a "They could have been handled better" response attached to them — the former more-so than the latter imo — but these moments are made far, far worse due to later events in the show, events where the characters are cruel without any justification attached. Weiss didn't mean to attack that woman, but she did mean to ignore Whitely and threaten him with her weapon. So once we see that, it informs our understanding of what came before it. "Oh. The fact that Weiss never reacted to nearly killing someone isn't just a bit of missed potential, it's an early indicator that she... doesn't seem to care. If she endangers people, threatens people... that's fine with her." The group has a right to be frustrated with Qrow. The group did not have the right to magically steal Ozpin's entire life story, assault him, and blame him for the world's problems until he felt his only course of action was to run from them. So when we see that it becomes, "Oh. The fact that the group treated Qrow so poorly isn't just a one-time mistake born of a stressful situation and young adults being out of their depth in regards to alcoholism. They really will just abandon anyone the moment they start making mistakes." Anyone outside of their group, that is.

To say nothing of how all of these moments interconnect. Yang's recovery isn't just about getting used to not having an arm, it's about getting used to having a new one. Weiss' party isn't just about nearly killing someone, it's about not committing manslaughter because someone else stepped in. The Volume 6 arc isn't just about trying to escape with the Relic, it's about trying to get it somewhere safe. Fans frustrated with Ironwood's treatment don't harp on these details out of some desperate attempt to make him look good post-murder spree, rather, they recognize that he's a character that's been around since nearly the beginning, originally written as a good guy, and thus has accumulated a number of key connections with the cast. So when none of those connections are acknowledged during an arc about trust... that makes the group look very uncaring. Yang doesn't care that he gave her the arm, Weiss doesn't care that he saved her from hurting/potentially killing someone, Qrow doesn't care that he's trusted Ironwood for years (in a rival-bros way) and that they've been heading towards him this whole time. And when Ironwood begins to spiral, they don't do anything to try and help him, let alone acknowledge that their own choices, that lack of trust and empathy, had a hand in getting them here. "But it's not their responsibility to fix him!" Isn't it? Even a little? Just as human beings seeing an ally struggling under horrific decisions and circumstances? Sure, they don't have to try... but that doesn't make them look very heroic to my mind. And we can't even shrug that off by simplifying things with, "Well, Ironwood is evil now so who cares about him." They simultaneously don't care about finding Qrow who is missing, then captured. They don't do anything to try and find their missing teammates, with the exception of sending May to do it instead. They don't help the army fight off the grimm. Don't try to make sure Pietro and Maria had portals to escape through. Barely hesitate when the newly resurrected characters goes, "Kill me. That's the easiest thing for everyone." And these are just a few of the big ticket moments. It doesn't even begin to cover all the details we get that paint a picture of, "Wow okay. They just really don't care about people outside the group, huh? I mean, they say they do, in a life-or-death way, but they're not putting forth effort to show it on a daily basis."

And if you pick up on all that, if you acknowledge how much the group has changed based on where they started out, you might wonder when in the world that started. Surely we didn't just flip a switch around Volume 6. So you re-watch early stuff and, sure enough, there are moments that feel like setup for what's to come later. Not intentional setup (quite obviously), but a lack of care towards details across the series that, once the dynamic changed, became far, far more pronounced. Characters should be at least somewhat recognizable from start to finish, especially characters who have only experienced about two years of in-world time, so if we now get to see Ruby blandly commenting on all the people who are dying, or Weiss using her weapon as a means of coercing her little brother into doing what she wants, or Yang and Jaune dismissing Ren until he gives in to their point of view... we're going to look for the beginnings of that behavior early on. As you say, we were able to wave all those little details off due to a number of important factors. Now though? Now they feel like they hold a lot more weight, simply by virtue of that early material proceeding what we have now.

#rwby #rwde #mymetas

[purpleyellow]

Hide & Seek

NCT 24th member / Dream 8th member

Bee’s Masterlist

“The two times Bee avoided Mark and the one she didn’t”

a/n: Feel free to share your thoughts with me. Requests are open!💛

Growing up, in general, is a pain in the ass, and Bee isn't the happiest about having to deal with it. She doesn't know if it's because of how she was raised, or if it's just her personality, but the girl cannot see herself as an adult.

You see, adults are supposed to manage five different tasks, have most things thought out, and try to handle everything that comes their way. Bee, however, wants to lay in bed at every minor inconvenience and wishes she could freeze time so she can digest what's happening.

She can see herself as those five-year-olds who pout, cross their arms and look away when you tell them they can't have ice cream for dinner. Just like she can see Jeno as those parents who bribe their kids to eat vegetables with a false promise of going to the ice cream parlor on the next day.

"Why don't you want to talk to him?" Jeno whispers to Bee midst the chaos in the van. The first time she successfully avoids Mark is when the members are leaving SM after a long day of figuring out stuff for the comeback. Things were only starting to come together, and the boy knows that if Mark and the girl don't figure out everything soon it's not going to be a fun process.

"I don't have anything to say" She mumbles looking out of the window. Jeno turns her head back to him before continuing.

"Maybe Mark has something. Or maybe he has questions"

"Good for him" She simply states. "I already said everything, so I'm not helpful to talk to"

"And you stand by everything you said almost six months ago?" He asks while trying not to laugh "You didn't think about it anymore? There, you said it and moved on"

"Yes, I stand by everything" She lies. Bee has relived every single conversation she has had with or about Mark especially lately, cringing at some stuff she said, making up better answers, and overanalyzing every little word even if they don't mean a thing. Jeno probably knows she does that, yet she's not going to admit that easily, because admitting means confronting the situation.

"Just maybe think things are exponentially worst when you're trying to avoid the topic instead of solving it once and for all" The boy mumbles and she rolls her eyes. Mentally thanking the manager who happened to pull up next to their building

Trying to escape that conversation as fast as possible, Bee holds onto the back of the seat in front of her, accidentally hitting Jaemin in the head, and jumps past Jeno, who frows as he watches her bolt out of the vehicle.

The girl only stops as she reaches the elevator because of the light feeling on her hoodie pocket. She had left her phone behind, throwing away all the work she just put into getting to her room without speaking with anyone else.

Walking back to the van, Bee keeps her head down to avoid making eye contact and waves off Renjun after he shared a proverb about people skipping a step only to return two. Honestly, he might have said something different because the meaning flew right above her head.

The manager, who had also left the vehicle to check on something at their apartment, throws his keys for her to catch and tells her to be quick.

Bee goes straight to the seat she had occupied and starts searching through the openings where the phone might have fallen from, ultimately deciding it was somewhere on the floor. Patting away underneath hers and Jeno's seat, she finally moves on to the row in front of them, getting scared by a light and the muffled sound of her phone ringing.

Almost like a miracle, she was getting a call from someone who might have saved her a couple of seconds of searching. Reaching out for the device, her smug grin turns to a frown as the name "Minhyung from Canada" shines on her screen. A confused noise leaves her mouth while Bee gets up from the floor, though her debating over either answering or not doesn't go very far due to said Canadian standing at the door of the van.

"I thought if I helped out find it, you would finally listen to me," Mark says, ending the call. Though, it seems like that was the only line he had rehearsed because after it they both stay in awkward silence, making Bee look down at the device in her hands before raising an eyebrow.

"Well, my hand touched it before the call got connected?" She, not as confidently, lies again.

Mark shakes his head adamantly "No it didn't"

"Do you have eyes on the floor?" The girl frowns trying to make that topic last longer but he doesn't fall for it.

"Yunhee," He says in a disappointed tone which Bee copies by saying "Mark"

Mark raises one eyebrow feeling rather playfully. "Mark Oppa?" and she rolls her eyes while planing an escape route.

The boy seems to remember what he was there for and scratches his head, suddenly bringing back the awkward mood.

"We should clear everything up, you know" His tone is back to uncertain surprising her by the sudden change and Bee feels her hands clamming up. She knows he's waiting for her to show any kind of reaction but for some reason, she cannot have any.

"Guys, I have to get the car back to the building. You can keep the conversation going at either of your dorms" The manager pops his head through the driver’s seat before climbing it. Bee hands him the keys and both idols slowly step out of the vehicle. Her mind is still blankly looking for a way to avoid listening to whatever the older had to say when the man magically says something that fixes all of her problems. "Actually, Mark come here, it's about 127's schedule tomorrow, something came up"

And she doesn't stay to listen as she bolts to the elevator that's taking her to her safe and Mark-free bedroom.

☆☆☆

The second time Bee avoids him, or gets saved by another person, happened a few days after the van accident when she rapidly types on her phone while running to the end of the hallway where the SM elevators are.

The sound indicating the doors opening on her floor catches her attention and Bee doesn't have to fully look inside the place to see Mark standing on the edge, ready to walk out of it. Almost without thinking, her feet make her turn left into another hallway and she instinctively makes her way to the room she had visited many times before.

Bee knows for a fact Mark is supposed to go to the studio she had just left, so the fact she can hear him doing the same route she is, makes adrenaline pump inside of her and the girl starts sprinting as fast as she can.

She finds it stupid how her brain suddenly read that moment as her being chased by something dangerous, but there's not enough time to let her process the situation. Instead, Bee barges through the door of Kun's studio and throws herself onto the space between the empty couch and the wall.

Crouching so she's hidden by the armrest, Bee simply says "I'm not here" before staring at the floor in front of her, making the WayV leader question why he's even surprised at that point.

A series of three knocks on the door makes Kun get up and go greet whoever had the decency to announce themselves before interrupting his work like half of his groupmates usually do. Keeping the door half-opened, he's half surprised by Mark standing a little distance away while seemingly sorry to be in that position.

"Hyung, my bad for coming here. But I was wondering if I could talk to Bee" The boy says scratching his eyebrow.

"I mean, of course, you can" Kun starts making the girl's heart drop "I'm not sure why you're asking me, though. And next time you see her, let her know I also need to speak with her"

"Oh, yeah. Sure?" Mark says uncertainly tilting his head and closing his eyes. He stares inside the room through the small space Kun allowed and sighs defeated "Sorry about it, I'll just go"

Waving to the boy, Kun waits for him to walk a little before closing the door and turning to the hidden girl. "You know we could see the top of your head, right?"

"Wait, he saw me?" Bee asks with wide eyes, supporting her head on the armrest and the boy rolls his eyes "Probably yes. The kid is just too polite to say anything about it"

Standing up from the ground, the girl sits on the couch to wait for a little before leaving the room. Kun takes the opportunity to throw himself back on his chair and interrogates her.

"Why are you avoiding Mark?"

"I stole his charger so now he's mad" She pouts looking at the ground making the older scoff.

"I'm not buying anything that simple. Don't think I haven't noticed you've been almost daily in our dorm instead of hanging out with your unit. We like when you visit but it became a little weird when we're not even there yet you still go hide inside our apartment"

"It's too complicated" She sighs craning her neck to check the clock "And I'm actually late for something, so you'll have to deal with my stupid high school problems sometime later"

"They're only stupid because you thought over them a million times and began downplaying whatever they are. You can't do that forever and you know it"

"Confrontation makes me cry, so I'll try my best to keep pushing it away" Bee smiles like something uplifting was said and stands up "See you later"

"Sure, good luck with your date" Kun smirks turning back to the table and checking on his work. Noticing she hadn't actually left the door he lets out a chuckle "Chenle told me about it"

"It's not a date. Chenle was literally invited to tag along" Bee rolls her eyes and he shrugs despite not looking back at her.

"Sure, have fun"

☆☆☆

Ever since Mark first showed his confusion over how things were going, Bee tried really hard not to make the situation awkward for everyone. She didn't want them to be extra careful around her, nor feel like this big dramatic thing was going on between the group. And to lessen her worries, the dreamies seemed to act the same they had always been.

There is the fact she isn't talking to Mark, but much to her surprise, the girl realized she never really relied a lot on speaking to him. Pretending everything was fine became part of her routine for that two weeks.

But just like Kun caught onto her distancing herself, a bunch of staff members also did. The choreographer who first introduced them to the routine asked her a couple of times if everything was okay, and the producer noticed the idol was out of the room the time she was finished, not really mingling like the rest of the boys.

Those two didn't really say anything about it, since she was still getting work done. That isn't the same for the management team, who not only saw her change in behavior but feared how much of that would be noticeable in videos and the overall dynamic of what they had waiting for the comeback.

"Bee, can I talk to you for a second" One particular manager called for her as she was resting on the corner of the dance studio.

Bee gathered her things in a pile on the floor and got up to follow him out of the room. The man had worked with NCT for a really long time, but he wasn't the closest manager to her, nor had ever taken care of her individual schedules. She knew whatever he had to tell her wasn't going to be very good.

"We don't want to intrude on whatever is going on in your life. But the moment it affects the group I'm afraid somebody needs to step in" The man sighs walking slowly next to her "If you're not feeling well, or something happened to make you not want to be around the members you need to act on it, or tell somebody so no one gets suspicious of it"

"I'll make sure no one notices it" She mumbles playing with her ring and rolls her shoulders "It's not something to be worried about though. Nothing really happened"

"We'll some people started to point out on Jisung's graduation video that you're often really quiet. Considering your personality it's nothing out of the ordinary, but you can't afford it pilling up and fans talking about it. We're aware of what that saesang said last year and don't think the company forgets easily if more fans start thinking you don't want to be in the group or doesn't belong in it, it's going to be a big problem"

"More people are talking about it?" Bee glances once again to the ring Renjun made her wear.

"It's a small number so far, but there are those who think that by Mark coming back and you being a little quieter, your place might be in another unit," He notices her gaze turning down and places a hand on her shoulder"Don't stress over it right now, just dedicate yourself a little more to the group and show you have a place in it. It should pass after some time"

Patting her, he reminds her to 'go back to normal before heading back to his work. Bee feels a slight headache creeping in and sneaks into a smaller room dedicated to vocal training, where she drops her body on a chair and closes her eyes to either sleep or try to gather some courage and face everything she has avoided so far.

The girl ends up doing neither because a few seconds pass and Mark pushes his head inside the room.

"Can we talk now?" He asks and without any energy left, Bee nods to the chair next to her for him to sit.

#Bee #nct 24th member #nct additional member #nct addition #nct female addition #nct female member #nct au #nct dream au #nct oc #nct dream 8th member #nct dream female member #nct dream addition #nct dream additional member #nct extra member #nct dream extra member #kpop addition #kpop au #kpop oc #kpop female member #kpop female oc #kpop female addition

[cosmonova]

Splatoon Theory: How big are Inklings? (Answer: They’re really tiny.)

So everyone’s familiar with Splatoon’s funky little cephalopods, but just how little are they?

We don’t exactly have easy means to compare them to humans, since the game takes place... several thousand years after the disappearance of humanity in a mass extinction of land-based life, oh well, but there are definitely some clues available in the game that point to the height of the Inkling, and it turns out they might just be minuscule!

Though humanity may be gone, human artifacts remain, mostly sitting in the background of the game’s levels. One in particular that stands out is the Space Shuttle seen in the background of the Ruins of Ark Polaris level:

The Space Shuttle’s main engine nozzles have a diameter of 2.3 meters, making them only a little wider than the average human height, allowing us to kind of visualize how big a human would be in comparison to this level.

It’s not a very useful comparison for getting any accurate sizes since the shuttle is so far into the background, but it does kind of give the impression that Inkling structures are pretty small compared to the size of humans.

Another example is the kettles used by the Octarians as transport in Octo Valley and Octo Canyon. It’s kind of weird that an entire Inkling can fit inside a kettle.

But we know that the domes Octarians live in are repurposed human habitats from before the extinction, so the kettles that connect them to the outside might possibly be repurposed human technology, in which case it’d be understandable if they weren’t the right size for making Inkling coffee.

Again, hard to say anything here though, because there’s no way to confirm if the kettles are of human or Octarian make, or if they’re normal tea kettles or industrial factory kettles. The objects in levels might not even be a fair comparison at all, since we see disproportionately enormous human-made objects in the background of Deepsea Metro stations in the Octo Expansion.

That being said, the random human artifacts lying around aren’t even the biggest piece of evidence for tiny Inklings. That is none other than...

Judd.

Judd, the big lazy time-traveling cat, is effectively a useful unit of measurement for determining the heights of Inklings. Why? Well, thanks to the Sunken Scrolls, we see him in a photograph next to both a human and a group of Inklings, allowing us to directly compare them!

Judd is pretty massive when standing next to a group of adult Inklings, but pretty normal for a large cat when being held by his old human owner. If we combine the two photos...

...we start to get a picture of just how tiny Inklings actually are compared to humans. A human could pick up a fully grown inkling and hold them like a cat.

And that’s just the adult inklings from the Squidbeak Splatoon! The ones we play as are kids, and they’d probably be even more ridiculously small compared to a fully grown human!

Yeah.

Scientifically, Inklings being very small actually makes a lot more sense than them being big!

An organism’s weight increases exponentially as it becomes physically larger, which means larger organisms have to develop a means of supporting their weight. This is not an enormous concern for marine animals - their own buoyancy allows them to support their weight underwater, allowing invertebrates to grow to massive sizes in the sea.

Developing an exoskeleton or internal skeleton provides an animal with even more structural strength and increases the upper range of how large they can become, resulting in marine vertebrates like whales becoming the largest animals to have ever lived on Earth.

On land, animals can no longer rely on water to support themselves, so having a skeleton becomes more crucial for large creatures. The largest terrestrial invertebrate in the world, the coconut crab, is only around the size of a dog at its largest. Meanwhile, animals without a skeleton or exoskeleton are even more limited in how large they can become on land.

Inklings are terrestrial organisms that do not have either, making them pretty wobbly and, were they to grow too large, unstable.

Their limbs are pure muscle. If Inklings were the size of humans, their limbs wouldn’t be able to withstand the compressive force of their own weight, but if they were smaller organisms, they would be capable of supporting themselves just fine without bones.

The major thing that goes against this theory is the fact that Marina and Pearl have been given canonical heights in the Splatoon 2 artbook -  178cm (5'10") and 145cm (4'9"), respectively, which puts them (or at least, puts Marina) in a pretty normal human height range. So what gives? Well, to that, I will point out that squid feet are smaller than human feet! That’s where the unit of measurement originated for us, and it obviously wouldn’t make sense for Inklings and Octarians to measure their heights using an obsolete human unit of measurement.

...That, or I’m completely wrong about all of this anyway, but we’re talking about a species that can magically transform into a squid and swim in the unfeasibly large amounts of ink it produces out of thin air, so I say, let me have fun.

Besides, tiny squids are cute! Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#Splatoon #Splatoon 2 #Inkling #Octoling #Splatoon theory #long post

[vkelleyart]

Thoughts on fandom: inclusion and engagement.

(Art credit to the kindhearted @penpanoply​!)

There’s been some stuff floating around on Tumblr about strife in the CO/WS fandom, and though I haven’t been explicitly named-dropped on anything public, my DMs have been... active. lol Rather than rehash what’s been said already, I just want to impart a little wisdom and perspective in the hopes it may soothe frayed feelings and offer a way ahead for cultivating a respectful community. As someone who has been an active participant in online fandoms since the mid-’90s, which was the advent of online fandom content creation (shout out to my fellow X-Philes!), and who has also spent a chunk of her professional life managing social media for the federal government and for activist groups, I can promise you it’s all gonna be okay.

Here’s some context for why strife happens and what we can do to create a more inclusive and communicative fandom environment. 

1) It sounds cliché, but fandoms go through growing pains. 

In the case of the Simon Snow fandom, what was once a small and cozy space untouched by cataclysmic events (such as the release of *gasp* a sequel) has grown exponentially in a relatively short amount of time following the release of Wayward Son. Newcomers are eager to find a home in this space at the same time as folks who’ve been here a while may be consciously or unconsciously wary about widening their circle, and It’s important to remember that this is not necessarily an expression of bad behavior on either side but just human psychology doing its thing. 

The byproduct, however, is that tension and stress builds over time from the lack of meaningful communication across the divide, which subsequently fuels misunderstandings. Ironically, the interfaces we use to communicate don’t help with this because any existing communication about the tension happens in tiny vacuums until a trigger goes off and bad feelings go public. 

Way Ahead: These moments of destabilization are opportunities to see where we can be more self aware about how we engage with fandom and the kind of community we want to be. Can you promote, support, or befriend someone trying to gain a foothold? If yes, please do! Each person must reach their own decision about what they can do within the confines of their available energy, health, and time, but a little self awareness goes a long way as long as you’re honest with yourself and others if applicable about what you can contribute. Anyone who judges you for it isn’t worth the strife.

2) In a fandom comprised of vulnerable/marginalized people, it’s more accurate to say that cliques are “bubbles of trust.”

This one's important. Just by nature of the source material, the CO/WS fandom includes fans with a wide array of backgrounds and experiences, especially when it comes to those who identify with the characters’ queerness, mental illness, and/or trauma. I really believe––based on individual conversations/group chats––that the difficult lived experiences that so many of our fandom peers have endured has produced one of the most open, aware, and accepting fandoms I’ve had the pleasure of participating in. Our vulnerability is, in a real way, our strength.

That said, a community of survivors also has the side effect of cultivating small circles of engagement that I call “bubbles of trust.” When you’re a survivor of abuse, marginalization, mental illness, fill-in-the-blank, it’s often quite hard to risk casting a wide net and expanding your circle to include new faces––which can subsequently be internalized by equally sensitive and vulnerable newcomers as rejection, judgement, or inadequacy.

Way Ahead: First of all, there may indeed be gatekeeping and exclusion going on. But before internalizing someone’s cagey behavior as gatekeeping or purposely exclusionary, ask yourself if you have all the information. Many people are private (I include myself in this assessment) because life has regrettably taught them to be this way, and so they may insulate themselves to a small group of people who have earned their trust. Some people might also triggered by certain content (case in point: smut triggers my anxiety) so they don’t engage with it. Others might have something in their pasts that define how they handle certain subjects (for example, a person of color should not be tone policed for getting angry when confronted with a racialized microagression, however accidental it was). You just don’t know what you don’t know. 

The solution here is to regularly check your privilege and ask questions in a private space if you sense you’re being treated unfairly by someone. If you go public with your grievances in hopes of mobilizing the mob, you may accidentally find yourself stepping into the role of the aggressor instead of the victim.

3) Social Media is not built to help you get engagement. It’s built to help itself make money off of you.

Repeat after me: Hits/likes are not a measurable indicator of talent or worth. There are ridiculously talented folks on Tumblr and elsewhere who, for whatever reason, haven’t had their viral moment, and it’s not their fault. Loads of factors come into play where things like likes, reblogs, and comments are concerned, among them being posting frequency, subject matter, the time of day, the day of the week, the week of the month, the month of the year, the current administration, the stock exchange, the concentration of middle class users, who just won the Superbowl, a madman trying to steal an election and undermine the democratic process, a PANDEMIC, do you get where I’m going with this?? lol

At the end of the day, my humble successes have been helped along by good luck, good timing, high profile signal boosters, and an absurd amount of work. (This is why I try to signal boost new work whenever I get a chance over at @vkelleyshares.) 

So while you cannot control Tumblr’s interface, trends at large, or your fellow users, here’s what you can do to ensure you give your work the best possible chance of exposure.

Have an image ready to go with your post. Tumblr is a visual platform (no matter what it says about being good for text). Not good with images? Set up a Canva.com account and get access to free graphic software with a gazillion templates to create whatever attractive image you want to attach to your post.

Keep the outward facing text brief and easy on the eyes. Too long and eyes will glaze over. Put excess text behind a “read more.”

You may think you’re being cute when you do this, but don’t put yourself down in your posts. (Don’t put yourself down in general, of course.) Doing so acts as engagement repellant. If you don’t believe in your work, no one else will.

Related: Be your best cheerleader. Confidence is a magnet, and if you don’t have it, go ahead and fake it until you start to convince yourself you are worth the buzz. So promote yourself! You have gifts that only you can impart. Use that knowledge to fuel everything you do from your art/fiction writing to your outreach with other content creators, and by golly, if someone’s done it already, acknowledge that contribution and then tell the world that this is YOUR unique take on it.

Treat your fellow fandom creators as human beings, not art/fiction/content boosting machines. I cannot count how many times I’ve had folks slide into my DMs with offers of friendship only to disappear once they realize I’m not available to draw a picture for their fic. It hurts because it’s manipulative and it makes me want to hole up and not signal boost anyone. Creators who truly support each other will not give off a transactional vibe. I want to help you reach more people, but not if that’s all I’m good for in your eyes. 

The long and short of it: Lead with compassion, do your best with the opportunities at  your disposal, and remember that fandom belongs to everyone in it. ❤️

What saves a fandom made of sensitive and vulnerable souls from imploding when it goes through growing pains is radical compassion from those who can offer it. Begin with the assumption that your fellow fandomers are not trying to harm you, and wade into the water knowing that your insight into the lives of your peers is limited by default and you may need to temper your words or actions accordingly. If you’re a content creator, save compassion for yourself as well, as there are indeed challenges to gaining an audience, and lack of engagement does not mean you lack talent or skill. Be your best advocate, and if you have the bandwidth to lift up a fellow creator and make a new friend, please, go ahead do it! 

And finally, fandom belongs to everyone, and no one has a monopoly on characters, tropes, or themes. Create and consume what you love (with respect for your more vulnerable peers), and bask in the variety, my friends!

That’s all I’ve got in my head at the moment, although I’m sure there’s more I’m forgetting. Thanks so much to @penpanoply for letting me use her art for this and to everyone else, hang in there and try not to judge each other too harshly. These are unprecedented times, and most of us are doing our best in circumstances that are pushing us to our limits. 

As always, if you have questions or want to sound off on anything, shoot me a message or an ask, or ping me on Discord. It might take me a second to respond (thanks, Covid) but I’ll get to it! Love, love, and more love to all.

#fandom stuff

[my-writings-and-musings]

Could you do Drift and Ravage for the oxygen loss prompt?

I absolutely can do Ravage, our dear kitty deserves the love! Drift can be found in part six below!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Part Thirteen: You're Here!

Ravage

·The tale of how you even became friends with the reclusive and understandably untrusting felicon is as long as it is convoluted, but a good synopsis is that the two of you simply get one another. It doesn't hurt that you always gave him ample personal space and respected his boundaries, and the fact you don't mind meeting up in the vents is a plus for him. Bots are absolutely baffled by your relationship, so avoiding public spaces has become his preferred activity to enjoy with you, if only to be free of the gossip. Equally eager to have peace and quiet, you'd long since found ways to make his favorite spots in the vents into ideal hangouts.

·Unfortunately, today is one of the rare days he has to be away from your side and amongst the crew. On the Bridge there's some kind of trouble, requiring all the commanding officers to be present while it's sorted out, and he refuses to leave Megatron there alone. Primus knows his old friend gets blamed for everything that goes wrong eventually... Yet he's far from focused as the diagnostic scans reveal a confounding bug in the ship's programming. As worrying as it should be, his thoughts drift repeatedly to you, and how much he'd rather be somewhere far less open and bright. Hopefully this will all end soon, and the two of you can curl up somewhere to relax, with his larger body naturally fitting around yours as if made to do so...

·A teasing look from Megatron makes him realize he had allowed his dreamy thoughts to color his face with a ridiculous expression of lovestruck bliss. Pinning back his ears and flushing hot as a star, he can only be grateful no one else seemed to notice. Just as he's debating whether or not to sneak away, there's a commotion amongst the more tech savvy bots. They claim to have found the source of the programming bug; which isn't a bug at all, but a virus. Claws fully unsheathing in preparation for combat, his sense of dread grows exponentially as he puts together what is being said, realizing that something very bad is moments away. Lights flicker in confirmation of his fear. In moments the ship is flashing out a hundred or so alarms, signaling that it is more or less helpless against whatever may happen next.

·You're the first thing he thinks about as countless terrible scenarios begin to play in his mind. Between his hypersensitive hearing and smell he's nearly choked on the panic and fear growing through the Lost Light, but all he wants to focus on is you. A human has precious little in the way of defense, and with every system keeping the ship stable, there's nothing to protect you. The solution is obvious; he has to find you before something else does. When the ground quakes and an incoming transmission threatens the crew he doesn't stick around to hear the enemy gloat. A brief explanation to Megatron is all he offers before taking off, and though he doesn't stick around to see it, his old friend gives him a nod of understanding.

·Distant sounds of metallic warping and the scent of soldering tell him the ship is being breached, but also make it incredibly difficult to pinpoint your location. He's memorized every identifiable feature of yours for moments like this, but the chaos turns the air into a smog of panic, so that it's only the uniqueness of your scent that allows him to find a trail. Faster than most vehicle modes and far more limber, he's an unstoppable blur through the hallways. A path to your shared quarters forms effortlessly in his mind as he passes down the levels.

·Far from your partner, you're still recovering from the bang that shook the entire room you'd been so comfortably set up in. Dazed on the ground, you get your feet beneath you before thoughts return, and the first one is for Ravage. Unfamiliar with space travel, you feel compelled to fear the worst; what if he was too close to whatever just went wrong? Capable as he is, the Felicon isn't immortal. Dead communication lines cement the need for worry in your dizzy head. Careless to the considerable tumble you just endured, you try to think of the best possible response for both your sakes. If he's able to so much as crawl, Ravage will be headed for you, so the best thing to do is make yourself as easy to find as possible. Shallow as that plan may be, it's at least a starting point, and you won't have to go far.

·A trail of claw marks through the hallways marks a tireless and acrobatic flight of barely disguised panic. Ravage takes every possible vent into his olfactory receptors for even the tiniest whiff of you. It's a scent he falls asleep with every night, the familiar yet so unusual mammalian musk soothing him as he curled about your tiny body... Now he's panicking over every tiny whiff, if only because he can't tell if you're really okay. Foreign smells tell of an encroaching enemy spilling into the Lost Light, and from the overpowering rush it appears their numbers are considerable. Some even appear to be moving through the lower levels just a floor or two below... Hulking footsteps that are not Cybertronian register in his sensitive ears, moving with such little grace he can feel them through the floor in his perceptive paws. Anger helps him swallow down some fear. If they want to get between him and his partner, then it's their death wish.

·Finding little to be working reliably, you open the door to your room just wide enough to let you through only after multiple attempts prove unsuccessful. A lifeless but somehow noisy hallway greets you. The sounds of combat are close, or at least, you presume what you're hearing to be combat. Perhaps you hit your head harder than you thought, because thinking through what's going on is far more difficult than it should be. Holding onto the wall for support, you try desperately to think of a plan. Ravage could be anywhere, and with no way to reach him, it's impossible to plan a meet up or even attempt to learn of his status. Yet... these dire thoughts don't invoke the panic they should. It's growing impossible to even stand on your own, and without meaning to you start to lean more of your body against the wall...

·Ravage inevitably is faced with a foe he cannot evade, and for your sake, he charges forward. There's a group of them, all gathered in the only hallway that will take him quickly to your location. He can feel the heat of energy weapons simmering in the air by the time he's upon them. With the element of surprise he's able to unleash incredible damage in his first attack, claws and fangs tearing through protective armor to kill one and severely wound another before they even realize they're being attacked. Bounding between their hulking forms, he faces the one disadvantage he's always endured through combat; his enemies far outscale him. Though his need to protect as well as survive turns him into a living blender, a well placed and simply lucky strike makes painful contact with his back, cracking the armor and bringing forth a spattering of energon.

·Recovering with the aid of his own anger to fuel the final attacks, he fights on with the wound agonizing him all the while, sinking his fangs in deep to take care of the final enemy. It isn't until the last body thunders to the floor that his legs temporarily give way. He's in need of medical attention, but he doesn't dare slow down, or even get a moment of rest. Shaking legs push defiantly to get him upright, and for once he's able to be grateful to have four. The ragged pace he resumes with is only as fast as it is because he knows he's close, as your scent is now clear despite the warring smells of blood and a million other unpleasant odors. Even if all he can do is collapse by your side and keep you company, it will be enough...

·Time seems to stand still when he sees you slumped over by the doorway to the room you two share. Though you're without injuries and the iron rich smell of human blood is undetectable, he knows something is very wrong, and though every motion hurts he bounds to your side. Crying out your name, he gently nudges you with a careful muzzle. Warmth and the rythym of your heart quell his greatest fears just before you open your eyes. Not quite awake, you can only be relieved to see him again, far too out of it to be afraid. At his insistence to move you express a desire to rest instead. No amount of encouragement can seem to make you realize the danger, and thus he's forced to make the decision to move you himself, even if he's in bad shape himself. Clearly, you need more help than he can give.

·You go along as best you can when he insists you ride on his back, and it's only your considerable experience doing so in the past that makes it possible now. He tries to think through the pain, but has little luck imagining what could possibly have done this to you, and his efforts to do so are hampered further as he begins to limp forward. Between energon loss and exhaustion and fear he knows things are looking grim. It tears at him more aggressively than any wound ever could, particularly as he feels you growing weaker against him, and all he can do is beg for you to hold on. You want to, but with his body so close and the rocking of his steps, how can you resist the urge to sleep? Surely everything will be fine when you wake... It's too much for him to endure when you slip into unconsciousness, and his legs give out beneath him. Failure burns in his spark as he tries in vain to keep going, his inability to save you haunting his exhausted body as footsteps draw near.

·It's by fortune he has rarely experienced that you're happened upon by a group of bots led by Megatron. He forces himself to stay awake for your sake, refusing to let anyone separate you so long as you need care. The blur of the medical bay brings comfort only briefly, as when he's informed of the reason behind your struggle he's nearly torn apart by guilt. Seeing you with your oxygen mask confirms his failure to protect the one he holds dearest to his spark. Withdrawing from the world, he allows himself to be patched up before curling himself around your tiny body, all but shielding you from the universe so intent on hurting you both.

·The warmth of his frame so frequently is your first sensation upon waking that you don't realize something is off at first. It isn't until you feel the mask on your face that you remember what happened, but by then Ravage is gently tapping his muzzle against you to confirm everything feels alright. Without promoting, he gives a quick rundown of what led up to this moment. You're wide eyed as he explains the ship's atmospheric shutdown, particularly when he gets to the part where he tried to carry you to safety... The apathy as he recounts it all, however, is far from fitting. Laying a gentle hand on a paw, you ask if something happened that bothered him, and receive confirmation from his silent expression of sadness.

·Initially, he can't bring himself to say what's wrong. On the surface he knows his actions were reasonable, but in his spark... he's so afraid of how his own inability to save you nearly resulted in tragedy. Just the thought of losing you is terrifying enough, but having nearly faced it has rocked him to his core, and he sits in silence under the weight of those emotions. Mercifully, you can read him well enough to not need words. Ravage has always withdrawn when upset, and few things agonize him more than failure.

·Gently as you can, you encourage him to come close, pulling his helm as near to your lap as possible. The sadness in his optics nearly breaks your heart, but you're confident as you speak, thanking him for what he did to save you and insisting you wouldn't be here without him. When he briefly tries to protest, you point out that he likely wouldn't be injured had it not been for you, and he quickly replies that you're worth any scars. When you retort that you feel the same way about him, a small amount of weight appears to leave his shoulders. He recalls that the best part of loving you has always been the freedom to exist as he is, free of pressure, and that he can't be a failure in your eyes so long as he tries. It's simply easy to forget that sometimes... Allowing himself a purr, he uses his tail to most effectively wrap you in his protective body, intent on keeping the both of you safe and warm for some much needed rest. So long as you have each other, there's nothing that can't be overcome.

#transformers #maccadam #mtmte #more than meets the eye #lostlight #lost light #ll #idw #tf #my writing #my asks #anon #requests #human reader #self insert #ravage #ravage x reader #prompts #headcannons #transformers imagine

[pokecraftking]

Something I've wanted to adress to Tumblr for a while about the way they've handled MCYT, sometimes very poorly and misinformed.

1. MCYT is a GIANT category

MCYT literally stands for Minecraft YouTube. This applies to LITERALLY ANYONE WHO HAS EVER POSTED A MINECRAFT VIDEO! Hermitcraft? Mcyt. Dream smp? Mcyt. Any lets player or game focused channel who's played Minecraft in a single video or series? Mcyt. Old channels who stopped posting Minecraft years ago like yogscast and skydoesminecraft? Mcyt. Random 13 year old posting a video on their phone? MCYT. Are there bad apples in that group? Yes, but don't let that take away from the thriving communities and wonderful creators also on the platform, many of which content creation is their job and source of income.

2. MCC (Minecraft champions)

Mcc is a completely non profit event designed solely for entertainment with preassigned teams. If you don't like a player being grouped with another, or hate a single player in the event, don't try to drag the whole event down with it. This is, in all honesty, an awe inspiring event. One tournament can have more viewers than the OLYMPICS, and have had tournaments where all procedes from streamers go to charity. Dismissing or hating the event for one individual goes against the good and the wonder such an event has created.

3. Dream smp, and the lack of information and respect it is given.

A lot of people complain "it's just a bunch of chist white men" which is both 1. Disrespect and 2. Objectively wrong. This actively disregards any female (ninachu, captain puffy, etc), LGBTQ (eret, antfrost, ninachu, etc), and minority (skeppy, ponk, quackity, etc) content creators. Additionally, a vast majority of the content creators heavily support their communities, especially their lgbtq fans, like philza, tommyinnit, and technoblade. These people have made a community where channels have grown exponentially (some even appearing on the news!), communities have flourished (theres a reason it is usually the one that glitches into 1st place on trending, hell, full songs and multi millions view animatics exist on YouTube), and friends have been made both in the server and the community, all of this without even mentioning the hard work put into the server's story and events.

4. Dream, and his impact on mcyt...

I'll preface this by saying: i don't personally like dream as a person. I disagree with his political opinions and he has done and said messed up things. If we are talking about his impact on mcyt though? He's an (unfortunately) vital player. His large subscriber and viewer count helped not only revive minecraft for the general public, but actively helped and continues to help grow the channels of the people he plays with (the dream team, all dream smp members, any mcc team mates, etc). His precense in videos also MASSIVELY increases success by nearly every recordable statistic for anyone who joins his server (ranboo, philza, ponk, quackity, technoblade, etc etc etc), many of which had a significantly lower subscriber and viewer count before the smp. The same can be said for events he's in, such as mcc. Finally, his role in the dream smp. He's by no means a main character, hell, he's not only the main villain, but has been locked in the servers prison for months now with maybe an appearance in a stream once every month or 2. Additionally, he never streams specifically to avoid taking away the spotlight from other creators in the server. Do I agree with a lot of the things he's said or done? No. Do I think his wrongdoings should drag down a large group of extraordinary talented players and content creators, all of which part of one connected story they all put together with love and care, with a massive wonderful community full of loving and talented individuals? Absolutely not.

Basically, all the "dream smp fans don't interact" should be "dream stans and apologists don't interact" or something along those lines, dont drag down a whole community due to one bad apple, especially when half of them dont even know about or like said bad apple.

(Also side note i didn't know where to put. The fact it occasionally glitches out BLM and SAH is bullshit, but don't pretend that it's a MCYT exclusive thing. Shows and movies, video games, sports, and irl events have all taken it's place due to the glitchy unoptimized way tumblr pins those topics. In my opinion those 2 should have a whole separate page or area so they can't ever be unpinned via any large event like they currently do every day or 2. Tumblr thrives of of fandoms and the interactions in said fandoms (why supernatural, undertale, the lorax, etc. Became associated with tumblr to a degree), causing them to lose traction and feel out of place in a "trending tab" format, also fixing the "it glitching out of trending" issue.)

(Also you don't have to but please share this so more people know this and learn, lot of missinformatuon and straight up lies are spread about mcyt as a whole, commonly on blw and sah for some reason? Not blaming them at all, just a trend I've noticed)

#mcyt #dream smp #dreamwastaken #dsmp

[erbezdiez]

On your Seiya and Usagi post, you had a tag about an AU and YES I WANT TO HEAR please(:

YESSS *RUBS MY GAY LITTLE HANDS*

Click the read more because this post turned out longer than I expected but SEIUSA AU HERE WE GO

Okay, so this is basically just “The Sailor Starlights come to earth at the beginning of the series instead of in S4″ AU. In that specific scene/whatever, Fighter hears Sailor Moon screaming during her first fight and goes there to save her on pure instinct, not because she’s looking for the Silver Crystal or anything.

Honesty in my head I wouldn’t necessarily get rid of Mamoru or anything and the whole thing would kind of follow the same basic beats as the canon Sailor Moon story.

After the first fight, Fighter would get curious about Sailor Moon, and with time she’d end up aiding her too from time to time in her battles. Maybe she can even meet Tuxedo like that, when they both go to save SM at the first time or something safsadgs. Usagi would develop her crush on Tuxedo Mask while at the same time being curious about Fighter as well. Also during all this time Fighter is flirting with Sailor Moon because she’s a big lesbian and I love her, which would leave her feeling ~~confused~~.

Meanwhile, the Three Lights could serve as the standard “popular idol” like Minako does in PSSM, though I do like the idea of their popularity growing through the series exponentially.

Sometime after the senshi go meet Queen Serenity, Fighter would be aiding Sailor Moon and the others in a fight, but then get hurt herself. Then Maker and Healer can make their appearances, introducing the full group. They wouldn’t appear much more, but they would make it very clear that they’re not after the Silver Crystal so the senshi can have the whole “they’re not our allies, but they’re not our enemies either?” thing.

After the finale of S1, I like the idea of the Starlights noticing the senshi have forgotten about their identities and Figher being sad, but deciding that it’s better this way.

They could have a bigger part during the Makai Tree arc because that arc is great and I don’t care if it’s filler, where maybe they can sense something similar to Kakyuu’s light in the Makai Tree or something. Seiya and Usagi could meet while Mamoru is away as their civilian selves, and of course, Seiya falls for Usagi right away without knowing she’s Sailor Moon. Usagi however rejects him, because she’s still hoping Mamoru will return to her. When he does get his memories back and all that, Seiya stays friends with Usagi without telling her about his feelings.

And then during the Black Moon arc. Seiya could become a sort of emotional support for Usagi; she’s not sure why she likes talking to him so much, but it’s like he gets him in a way no one else does, not even her best friends. They grow especially close then Mamoru and Chibiusa go through the whole Black Lady thing. By this point, the Starlights are still focused on searching Kakyuu and only get involved in the other’s fight when they happen to be there or it’s something very serious, but they’ve become a sort of “sometime-allies we can rely on when something goes wrong”.

But then, of course, the Death Buster arc happens, and Uranus and Neptune are immediately wary of the Starlights since they’re from outside the solar system. They could go from suspecting them of working with the Death Busters, to attacking them on-sight. At the same time, Haruka meets Seiya while he’s hanging out with Usagi, and distrusts him right away. Partly because she feels “he’s just dangerous” and partly because let’s be honest she’s a bit mad that Seiya gets better reactions from Usagi than she does. Through this whole arc, Mamoru and Usagi begin to drift apart as she starts relying more on Seiya than on him, but she always denies the possibility of having romantic feelings for him, especially because she knows that Chibiusa existing at all depends on her staying with Mamoru. This however does nothing but strain their relationship even further.

Before the end of the arc, the Starlights would explain to all the senshi that they’re looking for Kakyuu, so Uranus and Neptune can stop trying to kill them for one second.

The Dead Moon arc is all about ChibiUsa and Usagi, and by this point, it’s undeniable that Usagi likes him too. Chibiusa could actually talk to Helios about this in her dreams, and how she’s actually scared Usagi will choose Seiya over Mamoru and either create a paradox or straight up kill her.

I would use Nehelenia’s motivation in this point as a way of separating the current Usagi (and by extension, Mamoru and everyone else) to their Silver Millenium selves. In Death Busters Uranus and Neptune are affected by their destiny in a positive way (they’re soulmates who can finally reunite, much like Serenity and Endymion) but in a negative way, when they think there’s no way to stop Saturn from destroying the planet. Now, when Usagi senses how much Nehelenia hated Serenity and her mother, she would feel sorry for her. Usagi had nothing to do with Nehelenia’s punishment and feels like Queen Serenity did a bad thing she can’t excuse. By creating this crack in the perfect image of the Silver Millenium, Usagi would begin to question if just because Serenity loved Endymion that means she should love Mamoru unconditionally.

And then of course, the Stars arc!! By this point, Usagi and Seiya are very close and both have feelings for the other, the Sol senshi trust the Starlights in varying degrees, and Usagi isn’t sure if she truly loves Mamoru and wants to fulfil her destiny. By the time Mamoru goes to America, he tells her they should “take a break” while they’re away so they can sort their feelings out.

I would also have Mamoru actually get to America instead of being kidnapped by Galaxia. Enjoy your education, boy!

Usagi tells Seiya rather quickly about this development, and they get even closer than before. Chibiusa hasn’t returned to the future yet, either because she senses it’s unstable or because she’s too worried about Mamoru and Usagi to leave them. She can tell Usagi that she knows how she feels about Seiya and that she’s broken up with Mamoru, and that she’s afraid of what that means for herself. For a while, Usagi starts avoiding Seiya because every time she thinks of him, she imagines Chibiusa disappearing and she can’t bear to choose between the two of them.

Then one day, Seiya gets targeted by one of Sailor Galaxia’s lackeys, and Usagi has no choice but to transform in front of him, revealing her secret identity. Seiya is surprised, but before he can say anything, Usagi runs away.

Seiya isn’t sure what to do, and she can’t even tell Taiki and Yaten about it because it would betray Usagi’s trust. One day, Seiya finds Usagi crying under the rain (or maybe the moonlight?) as she feels the weight of the whole world is in her shoulders. Seiya reaches out to Usagi, but she pushes him away when she thinks about hurting ChibiUsa. Seiya takes her hand anyways and holds it to his chest, telling her to look after her own happiness instead of the happiness of others for the first time. Usagi cries, and Seiya wipes her tears off. She then says “you were crying that time too at the jewel shop”, and Usagi isn’t sure what he means. Seiya transforms in front of her, showing her her true self.

This only makes Usagi confused for a second before she realizes that of course, it makes so much sense now. In a moment where she allows herself to think of her own happiness, she kisses Seiya.

She then rushes back home, suddenly afraid that she’s made Chibiusa disappear, but to her surprise she’s still there, alive and well. Chibiusa is suspicious of Usagi’s actions, but she leaves her be.

Shortly after this, before Seiya and Usagi have the chance to properly explore their relationship, the rest of the inner senshi have to transform in front of the Starlights (and vice-versa). By this point their relationship is much less tense than in the canon (both groups think of the other as allies, and now they’re united under the same enemy), and while Haruka still doesn’t like Seiya too much, she accepts her when Usagi defends her.

Eventually, the final battle comes, and in this version, I’d actually like Galaxia to be the villain not because Chaos corrupted her and she doesn’t have a Starseed, but because she became bitter and angry by the mere act of having to fight Chaos over and over again.

Turns out Sailor Galaxia isn’t just the most powerful Sailor Senshi of the universe; she’s the most powerful Sailor Senshi of all universes. Each time Chaos is born, she travels to that universe to destroy it. She’s been doing it since the dawn of time and is now so tired of her destiny that she just joins Chaos willingly.

So during the final battle (which honestly I’d leave almost the same because that battle is amazing), Usagi makes Galaxia see that she doesn’t need to keep on fighting just because someone decided it was her destiny. The existence of the Silver Crystal, the Golden Cyrstal and Kakyuu prove that Chaos can be fought against by other people, and that she’s already done more than enough. By realizing this, Galaxia lets go of Chaos, and by joining forces with Sailor Moon (and maybe with all senshi there present, even if it’s in spirit form), they manage to destroy Chaos.

I didn’t mention her anywhere else but ChibiChibi is here! And in this version, she actually is Sailor Cosmos, who’s awakened after Chaos disappears. She tells Usagi and Galaxia that Cosmos and Chaos will always be in battle, but that as long as people don’t let it consume her, peace will reign through all universes.

So the peace is restored, and the Starlights have to go back to Kakyuu. All senshi share a farewell in the school building, where Seiya struggles to let of Usagi and she has to try her best not to beg her to stay. Mamoru (who was captured during the final battle but is OK now) notices how Usagi hasn’t looked at him the way she looks at Seiya in years, and catches up very quickly. Seiya says that going back to restore her planet with Kakyuu is her duty, to which Usagi can’t say anything, because she feels she too has a duty to fulfil on earth.

But as they’re flying off into space, Yaten Taiki and Kakyuu tell Seiya that she’s already done more than enough. Seiya looks at them for a moment, when Usagi breaks down and cries, begging her to stay. Seiya leaves the space teleportation whatever the Starlights were using and jumps towards Usagi, who only barely manages to catch her. Everyone laughs and they kiss.

Later, they discuss whether or not this changes their destiny, since Chibiusa has never seen Seiya in the future. Setsuna could then explain that they may as well have created a new universe where nothing is set in stone, and that their future is now in their hands.

----

...And that’s that!! SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG asfshkgjhdfgksd. I know this fandom is very small so if anyone wants to idk expand on this idea or change anything or use it for something please go ahead!!! More seiusa content is always welcome. I hope you enjoyed this really long read!

#seiusa #sailor moon #text post #long post #sammbamm72 #asks

[fictional-worlds]

Not What It Seems (Daryl X Person Of Color Reader)

Pairing: (Daryl x Person of Color Reader)

Plot: After the end of the world, Daryl and Y/N seek comfort in each other. When Meryl finds out that his redneck brother is dating a person of color ...he may not be the happiest...

Warnings: Angst, rejection, racism, threatening, violence, hint of racial slurs (I tried not to use the actual thing but I’m sorry if it still offends some people but it is a word that character said in the series.)

Ps. I do not own any of The Walking Dead characters nor do I claim to own you!

A/N: I know I haven’t updated in a while but I am feeling very inspired this week so be ready for some new releases! Don't forget that requests are still open! Thanks for being patient and for your support! Lmk what you guys think of this!

It’s been four to five weeks since the end of the world happened. During that short amount of time, everything went down - from water, to electricity, to phone lines… to our government… to civilization.

Luckily, I was able to leave the city with a group of people. Our camp’s located on higher ground at the end of a quarry for safety.

A cop, a mother and son, a family of four, a family of 3, two redneck brothers, two sisters, an Asian, an older man that owns an rv, and a couple more people make up our camp.

Everyone seems nice but I try to stay away from the redneck brothers. The eldest doesn’t seem to like people of color and the youngest just goes along with it.

At least that’s what I tried to do in the beginning. But the youngest brother, Daryl, was undeniably hot with his long hair, bangs always getting in his face, and those arms...just yum. So he kinda just grew on me.

First, it was small nods of acknowledgment whenever we walked by. Slowly but surely our relationship progressed to small talks at dinner with everyone else in camp then more private talks until I convinced him to teach me how to hunt. At first, he was reluctant, saying “ you could get hurt out ther’ ” in his southern drawl. By then, it was obvious that things were not what they seemed, he was not like his brother.

Thanks to my amazing charm and convincing skills *insert hair flip for dramatic effect*, I was able to convince him to teach me how to hunt. Daryl teaching me consisted of a lot of crouching down near animal or even walker prints/trails and determining which direction they went and if they are nearby. This meant that we were constantly hovering over each other, in each other’s personal space. There have been some very close calls where we’ve almost kissed because we both turn to look at each other at the same time. And I can’t say that I would dislike locking lips with him…

An incident happened during a run in a small nearby town that caused our relationship to grow exponentially quickly. While looking for medicine at a pharmacy, I was behind the counter while Daryl was searching the aisles. Normally, we’re very careful and efficient when it comes to runs.

We knock on the windows and wait a while for the walkers to show up but I guess one got stuck or something because as I searched behind the counter where the prescribed medicine was located a walker grabbed me and tried to rip me to shreds. It knocked me to the ground, hovering over me unsuccessfully trying to chomp on my neck, face, anywhere really. I don’t think they have a preference.

“Daryl!” I yelled out, honestly scared that he wouldn’t reach me in time as my arms started to give away.

Suddenly, I felt a whoosh as an arrow cut through the air, hitting the walker on the side of its head as it finally stopped moving. Letting out an oof as it drops on me, I look up at Daryl, seeing fear in his eyes- fear of losing me, losing our small talks, losing how I wrinkle my nose when I laugh, or how excited I get when it only takes me one time to shoot down my prey.

After getting the walker off me and helping me up, Daryl brings me into an embrace. “I told you to be careful, didn’t I?” he says as he holds onto me tighter. I’m still shocked because I’ve never seen Daryl hug or even touch anyone unless absolutely necessary and that even included his brother.

Slowly, I wrap my arms around his waist as I snuggle into his chest, “I know...I’m sorry, I thought we got all of them.”

“We’ll be more careful next time,” he mumbled with his chin on my head, arms still wrapped around me.

After that day, we were stuck together like glue and even though his brother, Meryl, didn’t like it very much, he wasn’t around to protest our friendship as he always went out on hunting trips by himself.

After a couple of days of secret glances and Daryl demanding we hold hands during hunting because “the ground is uneven and you could easily slip and twist your ankle and I ain’t carrying you back” it finally happened, the long-awaited kiss that is, while walking back to camp with a couple of squirrels and even a fox on hand.

With our hands locked and our catches of the day in our free hand, I actually did slip. Thankfully, Daryl easily caught me by pulling me towards him, arms wrapping around my waist, bumping into his chest.

Glancing up, I blushed as he stared at me. Right, when I was about to thank him, his head dipped down and his lips met mine.

Again, at first, I was frozen with shock but as his tongue swiped at my bottom lip, I reacted and molded my lips to his, opening my mouth to let his tongue in. The kiss was soft and pretty much innocent as we both poured our feeling into the kiss.

I pulled away for air after a few minutes, panting lightly. Daryl pressed his forehead on mine and nuzzled my nose. His long bangs tickling my face and I giggle softly. Daryl says, “I probably don’t have to ask, but will you be my girlfriend?”

I brush his hair out of his face and respond, “of course, I’d love to.”

That evening, we walked back, hand-in-hand, to camp with a big grin on our faces.

Sadly, the happy feeling doesn’t last long. As we approached the camp, we can hear shouting and fighting. Daryl and I both look at each other before taking off towards the camp.

There, Jim and Shane were holding back Meryl, who was apparently about to go on a run with some of the group. Meryl was struggling against them, trying to get to T-Dog, “I swear you talk back to me again and you’ll wish you were dead you ******!”

Suddenly, Meryl’s attention was drawn to the side, to Daryl and I, “well looky looky here, it seems little bro got himself a good whore for laying.”

“Stop it, man, that’s my girl you’re talking about,” Daryl states and he grips my hand tighter.

My heart warms at being called his girl but then it tightens when I see the rage on Meryls face reignite.

“Your girl?! This colored girl is your girl?! You know we, white folks, shouldn’t be with no colore-” Meryl doesn’t get to finish because Daryl lets go of my hand and punches him right on the jaw, effectively knocking him down.

“You might believe that but I don’t, that’s some bull**** and you know it. Y/N is my girlfriend now and you’re going to have to deal with it, understood?”

I don’t think I ever found him more attractive than now, so protective of me and uncaring of my race or race in general that he even punched his own brother for me.

“Y-yes,” Meryl groans out while rubbing his jaw.

Everyone still in shock at the scene that played before them.

“Come on Y/N,” Daryl outstretches his hand towards me and I take it, “we’re going to move your tent next to mine.”

----

A/N: Thank you for the support. I hope you liked this Daryl Dixon x Reader Oneshot! Let me know if you liked it! Don't forget requests are open and you can add yourself to my tag lists here!

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl x y/n #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #daryl x oc #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryldixon #the walking dead fanfiction

[megatraven]

Fluffy Alex and Aphrodite Headcanons

for my best wife @astorias-reigning-legends vuv

(Pre-relationship with MC)

Alex meets with Aphrodite at least once a week, their mother always making sure to have time spent together with them. Usually they meet for dinner, but often times Alex will end up staying the night on Olympus to keep her company

Anytime Aphrodite has a concert, she always gives Alex VIP tickets. Unless there’s a very important case they’re handling, Alex tries their best to attend them, especially if they’re held somewhere in New York

Every now and again, she asks them to record a song with her. Whether it’s for the world, or just for something they both can keep, it’s nice to just sing together from time to time

Aphrodite checks in with Alex pretty frequently, and though it doesn’t happen very often, she knows when they’re getting overwhelmed and meets with them to help- either in the form of getting them to take a step back and breathe, or using her aura to help refresh them

They definitely, 100% talk about Alex’s love for MC (pre-relationship), and Alex gets very flustered about it, but they know they can say to their mother what they can’t to MC

Most mornings, Alex will text or call Aphrodite, if for no other reason than to wish her a good day and getting an opportunity to speak a little Greek

Aphrodite pushes for Alex to take their birthday off work each year so that she can dedicate a day to them, knowing it’s pretty much her only chance to do so thanks to their workaholic tendencies. Alex appreciates that she goes out of her way for this (though she doesn’t see it as going out of her way at all) and enjoys being able to spend a day just doing whatever with their mother, and maybe getting to spend some time with Hades and Persephone, too.

During festivals or holidays when HERA gives its workers time off, Alex almost always spends their time on Olympus to celebrate with their mother

Aphrodite is a Hugger(tm) and she is not afraid to hug Alex in the middle of the office, professionalism be damned

Aphrodite doesn’t really have a birthday, nor does she Care about herself having one, but ever since Alex was young, they set aside the same day each year to shower her in affection and spend all their time with her, doing their best to get her (or make her in the case of being a kid) something personal and thoughtful

One such gift that they’ve gotten her is a locket that looks just like their artifact, with a picture of the two of them inside and engraved with a sweet message that definitely makes Aphrodite tear up (or straight-up cry) when she reads it

There are days where Aphrodite gets a little lonely and will call Alex to talk, about anything and everything, and Alex will willingly entertain her for hours on end, even if they’re burning the midnight oil to do so

Aphrodite always keeps Alex’s room exactly the way it is (save for when she takes out the alcohol they’ve hidden in there...) and lets them do with it as they will. She loves that they have their own space in her home, and she wants it to always be open to them, no matter the circumstances. Alex loves this, too, even if most times they prefer staying down on Earth. It’s nice to know that she’s always got a spot reserved just for them.

There have been a couple times in the past wherein Aphrodite attended pride with Alex, to be supportive of them and to encourage them to do what they want. She’s the one that told them about the beach that they wind up going to every pride, knowing they’d appreciate it

Growing up, Aphrodite would take Alex down to Earth to play with Josh and MC, and she likes to recount those days to them, speaking of them fondly

When Alex was old enough and they decided to do some travelling down on Earth, Aphrodite supported them, even knowing that it would mean she’d miss them for awhile. Alex would call more often when they were travelling to make sure she was doing alright, and to make sure she knew that they were still there for her even if they weren’t there for her

Aphrodite is 10000% at fault for Alex’s fashion sense and their makeup expertise. If Alex has an entire closet full of tailored clothes and nice shoes, and if their eyeliner is sharper than a knife, there is no one else to look at but Aphrodite

She taught them how to do their own makeup and guided them until they decided on what they were comfortable with and what they wanted to keep doing

From the very beginning, Aphrodite knew that Alex was nonbinary and always embraced it, accepting them as they were without any question, and helping them find their own way when questions inevitably arose

When came time for Alex to move out on their own, they picked out their own apartment, and then Aphrodite helped them move their belongings there, possibly definitely tearing up the whole time over the thought of them leaving, but being happy that they’re striking out on their own

Alex’s independence and inherent goodness always make Aphrodite very proud of them, and she wants nothing more than to see them succeed and be happy

She’s impressed that Alex, as young as they are, isn’t content with taking handouts and getting by just on godly advantages; they want to work and they want to bring people together and they want to make the world a better place. Her respect for them grows exponentially when she thinks of that

(aaaand a few Alex x MC and Aphrodite headcanons for good measure)

Whenever Aphrodiute extends an invitation to dinner to Alex, she always makes sure to make it known she includes MC in that invitation, knowing how much they love one another and not wanting them to be apart. However, Alex will still sometimes meet with her one-on-one for some quality mother-child time

After Jason is born, Aphrodite visits them much more often than before, and offers advice whenever MC and Alex might need it

Group hugs!!!!!!!! Aphrodite cant help herself from pulling both of them into a hug, and where Alex usually gets a little flustered, MC laughs, returning it with just as much vigor

They eat out at Josh’s restaurant a lot so that they can see him, too, and there are days where he’ll join them for a meal and they all get to have just.... a really nice family dinner together. There’s a lot of laughter and catching up to be had, embarrassing childhood stories to share, and chances to remember MC’s and Josh’s mother

Aphrodite wanted to be very hands-on with Alex and MC’s wedding, but respected their boundaries and wants by holding back until they came to her with any questions/problems they might have (like the venue). She does her best to make sure their wedding is perfect.

Following the last one, Aphrodite talks to MC in place of her own mother, and it warms Alex’s heart knowing just how accepting Aphrodite is of their love, and that she’s so readily accepting of MC to be part of the family. They never really doubted how she would act, but it’s nice to see regardless, and they’re happy knowing that their marriage has the Goddess of Love’s approval

#lovestruck voltage #lovestruck #alex cyprin #alex #aphrodite #afk mc #alex x mc #afk aphrodite #astoria: fate's kiss #astoria: lost kisses #astoria #hope u like amanda i love u

[dropsofletters]

how to lose someone in seven steps? | ten

— summary: when she gets the opportunity to record her first music video, she doesn’t expect the director to be this enigmatic and vain. ten throws his head back, squinting his eyes at her mere presence, inspecting her every move, and she feels like threatening him. it shouldn’t be that hard to fulfill her promise of breaking his heart.

— title: how to lose someone in seven steps? — pairing: ten x reader — genre: music video producer!au ; bet!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; love experiment!au — type: fluff ; romance ; humor ; drama ; angst — word count: 10,850 — playlist: no blueberries – dpr ian (ft. cl and dpr live) ; diamonds – rihanna ; love me less – max ; my my my – troye sivan ; fever – dua lipa ; ex – sik-k (ft. chacha malone) — note: you have to read the prologue before reading this route.

One would say that she has never gone through heartbreak. One meaning…she says it all the damn time. It’s what she manages to let out with a cramped smile on her face, hands expanding for further emphasizing. Heartbreak is not my thing.

It’s the thing she told herself with one of the last men she dated (Or is it ‘saw’, ‘went out with’? This generation has changed the terms exponentially), when she pulled the straps of her dress up her shoulders, knowing that inside his heart there was someone else. The blood of a singer told her to go for passion—to fight the competition like a champion would, but love is not a matter of winning. It never is. It’s about how much you can lose in one go, and if you’re smart enough, you’ll rationalize the pieces to share with several people. Give out one? Forget it’s ever coming back.

The hairstylist—and it’s so weird to say this without a giddy feeling inside her chest—pulls at her hair harshly enough for her eyebrows to raise the slightest. A face lift wasn’t necessary, but she might as well start thinking about one in the future with the amount of stress that has piled up inside her at the mention of a music video recording. The short woman manages to smile, cheeks puffed out in ways that makes the speckles of pink on her cheeks glisten under the harsh lights of the preparation room. Staff goes around and comes around, like flies on a summer day, while Hao, her manager, keeps looking down at his phone like a maniac.

She reaches forward, trying her hardest not to confuse her migraine with the headache induced by the pull of her hair. This ponytail is so high up her head that she may as well start using it as an antenna, old school style, to get some signal. Instead, her fingertips wrap around Hao’s hand, pulling it down to have him looking at her. “Hey, care to be my friend and my manager at the same time and help me feel less like…?” Looking around, she lowers her voice. “Like shit?”

For the first time in a while, Hao doesn’t look like a father. His khaki shorts have been exchanged for something far more presentable—a suit that fits him like a glove, his hair pushed away from his face in elegance. His hand comes forward to rub her cheek softly, only to hear a hiss from the stylist.

“Don’t touch her makeup.” For someone as small as the stylist, she surely has some bite to her. Hao’s hand pulls away as if she was made of electricity, rubbing his fingers together in hopes of not having any leftover makeup on his fingertips. The makeup, however, makes her feel different. It’s the vision of the director, she knows this much, of the new record label that had taken up on her with the promise of a contract only if this song does well. The thick eyeliner on her eyelids looks much better than anything she had tried—eyes elongated, almost cat-like, as if she’s ready to eat the world just by glaring around.

“You’re going to do fine.” Hao instructs, a wave of his hand coming soon after. “Besides, I called one of your friends to come here and support you through all this,” One of her many friends, whose tears have become one with her skin, whose smiles are glimpses of her soul—whose tastes have come merged with her in some way or another. Friendship is such a beautiful thing. “Since I’m shit at it. Don’t ask me who it is, though, because I literally can’t tell the difference between any of them.”

“Genius.” She replies, feeling once again a tug at her hair before an elastic band wrapped around the strands. Harshly. “Ah, Siyeon…could you try to go softer on me?”

“No.” Siyeon says, a tiny smile to her face. “This ponytail has to stay in place so the director sees if it’s a good look. I need to do my best so I don’t have to think about any other styling.”

“…Good.” Though, she can’t say anything else. At this point, the director sounds awfully like a dictator. “If you don’t know who is coming to support me, how did you contact them?”

“I just press one of the many numbers I have.” Hao turns his screen to showcase it to her, and she can’t muffle the laughter that escapes her lips.

“Who the fuck is ‘Friend Number Three’?”

“She was parking, so I imagine we’ll figure it out in a second.”

“Hao,” Her voice is tiny as she starts, eyes drifting to the person in the mirror. It’s not her—it’s a version of herself she hasn’t seen often. Thick leather jacket draped on her shoulders in a way that tugs them down, accompanied by a floral button down that were pushed inside her—surprise, leather—pants. Well-hidden, stylish, with no flaws flourishing just yet; she looks different, all thanks to Siyeon’s work. “How is it that you manage a bunch of artists but can’t remember the name of my seven friends? I’m your favorite represented artist.”

Not that he had openly said it without being in a drunken blur, but he doesn’t deny it. She is, indeed, his favorite. Perhaps, reminding her of his daughter that lives with her mother, far away from the country, never once sparing him a glance for not having a future. It’s been years since Hao has tried to demonstrate his broken family that he is a good manager. “They’re just too chatty. I can’t remember any of their personalities exactly.”

“Look at those thighs! Damn, girl, we’re going to have to get you on Tinder before all that beauty is wasted.”

When the opportunity rises to run away, she always opts not to. The world is harsh at it is, but it seems a hell of a lot less like a burden when people like Angela made their ways through her life. With her bangs perfectly placed over her forehead, a blue sweater cladding her body, she holds a cake on her hands. Pearly white but with sprinkles in blue, the same shade as the icing on top that reads ‘congratulations!’ along with her name.

Because, relationships end in heartbreak—they are unnecessary findings that we thirst for because they are, apparently, much different from friendship, but friendship is exponentially better. Angela came to her life in the form of a baker in one of the first spots she performed in for some money—her guitar case was opened as she played miraculously, and just when Angela went out to ask her to cut it out, she stopped herself. Instead, they relished in a deep conversation about music that sooner than later translated into meetings as friends.

“You’re friend number three!” She utters with a smile on her face, though not quite being able to move her face with the tightness of her hairstyle. Instead, Angela holds the cake on one hand, the other wrapping around her shoulder to press a kiss to her highlighter-coated cheek.

“The makeup!” Siyeon screeches, both hands reaching her face comically, and the blinding lights by the vanity make her look even funnier. Angela pulls away with uncertainty on her face, widening her eyes comically before humming.

“I understand…sorry.” She whispers, soon after recomposing herself to let Hao hug her from the side. Her eyes look up at the older male, her straight teeth perched in a shy smile. “You didn’t know my name, right?”

“…Angela?” Hao hesitates, and the woman in question groans comically.

“Hey, at least he remembered!” She defends her manager, feeling one last tug at her hair until Siyeon pats both hands on her shoulders.

“You’re ready.”

When standing up from her seat, she watches as Angela and Hao talk comically. The woman must be at least thirteen years older than Angela, if not more, and yet she argues with him as if he’s one of the workers at her bakery. “Name all our friend group, come on!”

“Too many people.” His lips wrap around the words comically, lowering himself slightly to come face to face with this cake. “And what is this cake for?”

“Our star is finally getting her first music video. I’m just getting on the bandwagon before she rockets into stardom.” Angela’s trust goes over the roof. She’s stubborn—even for the good things. No one can get through her mind when an idea has settled inside her brain.

“Oh, stop it.” She says, silently licking her lips as she watches the dulcet treat in front of her. Would it be a good idea to eat cake when her lips are tainted in the deepest shade of red? She can already hear Siyeon screaming inside her head. “You’re talking as if I’m the next Lady Gaga.”

“You’re not the next anyone,” Angela says. “You’re the new you.”

“Poetic.” Though, she can’t quite imagine herself to be more than she already is. For one, she has been practically living off having her guitar case opened anywhere she goes, singing to her heart’s content, never once meeting the deadlines of her life. Planning done a mess, she roams this world like an archive, searching for the will of continuing with this dream. Hao is one of the few people that reminded her she has a future in this, and maybe, that has to deal with the fact that he actually gets paid from what she does. “I don’t think I can have a slice right now, though. Got my makeup done and all.”

“It’s okay.” Angela chirps, putting the cake down on a vanity before sighing. “I’ll keep it here until you’re over with the recording.”

Hao shakes his head then, letting go of Angela. “Oh no, the recording’s not today.”

“You said recording.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“Look it up,” Hao indicates, pointing at her phone. “I didn’t say recording.”

But Angela, as always, never once wanting to be wrong, shakes her head. “I don’t need to. I’m sure you said recording—”

“Either way…” She interrupts, knowing damn well that Angela is an excellent friend, and even better at baking, but extremely bad at having anyone try to change her mind. “I’m just going to meet the director and see if my styling is right for his vision. He’ll explain the schedule today and whatnot.”

Angela’s brown eyes become anchors to her body, pulling away to squint at her. “You look cute.” She says, though, she hears that from every single one of her friends. Sometimes, when she’s feeling her worst, she starts to believe everyone in a liar—you’re a nice singer, you have a great future ahead, you’re beautiful. All fucking lies when the time is wrong. “I feel like you’re one of those…one of those grunge kids.”

“Oh no, this is not grunge.” She answers, pointing at her outfit. “This is something very movie-esque. Not grunge, definitely.”

“Maybe, you have a future as a movie star.”

She rolls her eyes at Angela’s antics. Her positivism meets that of a mother’s sometimes. “Where? A porno?”

“Oh my God, no!” Angela swats her hand over her shoulder, only lifting her gaze when they hear her name being called. Not by Siyeon, but by one of the staff members—if she recalls correctly, the director’s assistant, Hong. With a twirl of his fingers, calling her over, she starts moving, Angela following right after her. “You’re learning a little too much from Yifei.”

She chuckles, knowing damn well that Yifei is the jokester of the group. “Maybe, I have more of a future as a comedian.”

“Hold your horses, Joker.”

“…Are you trying to tell me I’m going to go batshit crazy if people don’t laugh at my jokes? Because, that’s what the Joker did.”

“I’m telling you…” Angela trails her voice, her sneakers a nice companion to the click of the heels in her boots. “That you’re going to do fine in whatever you put your mind into.” The warmth of her words reaches her in a way that has a smile appearing on her face. Praise isn’t that bad after all.

“Thank you, Ang—”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck—”

“What?”

Angela’s hand tightens around her own when Hong opens the door to the director’s office, her nails digging into her skin as she watches the man in front of them. A black button down leaves the first few buttons open to welcome his taut chest, a leather jacket half thrown over one shoulder, falling off the other for the zippers on the sleeves to meet his ripped jeans. His long black hair curls a bit onto itself at the edges, damp from humidity, though his face is the most impressive. A nicely structured nose that makes the edges of his face even better to look at, twinkling eyes and thin lips. Rosy, at that.

“That’s my ex.” Angela whispers, only to have looking over her shoulder. Hong, whose bleached blonde hair barely reaches his ears and stands at least a foot taller than the director, may be her ex in this situation.

“Hong?”

“What? No.” Angela frowns deeply, lifting one hand in the air to greet her past lover. “Ten, how’s it been?”

The covers are blown at that moment—actually, shot away and straight through her heart when she watches the director stare at Angela in recognition, battling to put a smile on his face that doesn’t look panicked or angry. He moves forward the slightest, crossing both arms over his chest before replying. “Angela, long time no see. May I ask what are you doing here?”

Ten.

Wait.

That name sounds like something she has heard before…

Four months ago, drunken night, Ten was in a picture Angela had showed her on her phone and she had promised to break his heart at the time. Not that she was thinking straight, really, this man probably shatters the souls of millions of people on the daily—someone that good looking is, at least, a Greek god of sorts.

“I’m supporting my friend, considering she was about to meet the director of her new music video.” Angela replies, watching as Ten’s eyebrows lift on his forehead, albeit a bit stuck in his own thoughts.

“Mhm, alright.” Ten says, opening the door of his office with delicate motions of his body, as if balance exists within him, only to continue his train of thoughts. “But Angela can’t come inside. I have a recording in an hour and I have to make this quick.”

“That’s okay.” Angela replies quickly, pulling her hand away from her before mumbling softly. “Get ready to deal with the most stubborn asshole you’ve ever met.”

And that, coming from Angela, baker bridezilla that is not actually getting married to start with, just is the first big, twinkling, red light that comes with Ten.

###

Magic died the day sentimentalism did. When break-ups started to happen though texts, or when kids stopped living the best ages of their lives to be on social media, or try to be adults. Magic relished on its death when people stopped caring for others, when seeing someone falling on the floor was more of a call out for laughter than a reason to help them stand up. Magic died within her, somehow, someway, in a road to utter lack of empathy. She knows that, in order to come out of life as a champion, she had to protect herself over all.

So, why is it, that when seated on that elongated table at Ten’s office, she feels like there is some mystic power that is held over her? Beauty in the form of him, in the white and black decorations but how he spices them up. There is good and there is bad. There is sadness that meets his happiness, in the somberness of the black and the speckles of colors that he has in family pictures and in some drawings that he holds up on the walls. Something about him…something about him calls out for interest, even when the last time she saw him, just one week ago, he was quickened with his words, never once looking at her, never once stopping to breathe.

This time around, her face is not pulled by a ponytail and she remains as makeup-less as possible, tapping her fingers against the table and watching Hao and Hong speak within themselves about some music videos that they enjoy. On the other hand, she has kept herself quiet, letting herself relish on the feeling of just not feeling at all. It’s the limbo of life, when she doesn’t know if she should be happy or sad, and she decides to be numb. Comfortable, sure, but not exactly good for a musician.

The doors open at that moment, a little bit over the time they were supposed to meet—twenty-four minutes, if she’s getting technical here—, but she can’t help but think that Ten is, truly, a favorite of destiny and the world. The speckles of rain that patter against his coat, gray to be exact, almost look like snowflakes, glistening under the harsh lights of his office. His hair is pulled away from his face by a ponytail, some of the strands falling on the back of his neck or his forehead, though his eyes are left a mystery as he keeps a pair of red and retro sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry for being late,” Ten says, a rumble to his voice as he moves further inside the office. “I was looking for my sketchbook and my drawing board for the music video. We need to go over the visuals, the cameras, and everything of that sort before we start the recording in three days.”

Not even a ‘hello’ from him, as unreachable as possible. The icy walls of Ten’s heart somewhat make her feel more intrigued, like the tattoos that scatter on his slim arms when he pulls his coat down and is left on his tank top. He turns on the heater without asking, and she decides to be the polite one in the situation. “Good afternoon, Ten. How are you?”

“Mhm, I don’t know. I asked for an iced coffee after waiting in line for twenty minutes, and the ice has melted off so now it’s dirty coffee water in my cup.” He instructs, putting down his sketchbook and putting up his drawing board on a stencil to be able to showcase it. He pulls his sunglasses down, then, settling them on the table before sighing. “There was no parking spot…because someone decided to park on my designated parking lot—” He cuts himself short then, lifting an eyebrow when he looks at her. “What about you, superstar?”

There is some edge to his tone, and she doesn’t know if it’s a challenge or an annoyance. “I’m good.”

“Good, because I had a whole epiphany when we talked last week—” Ten moves the stencil closer to the table, showing the drawing board with expertise. The style is one to envy, intelligent and complicated in its drawing form, showing different shots, words written to further indicate the details of the music video. “Your song is very pop-y. I liked it, don’t worry. But I think that to make you stand out more in the pop stance, we have to hit the scene with something strong. Maybe, the absurdity of life for someone whose head is locked onto itself. Very science-fiction, mind-based…”

Something about Ten when he has his mind roaming is that, at times, he stops to smile at himself. Pride fills the imagery of what he has imagined, and she’s captured by the way he has twisted the vision of her song into a whole daydream. The kind of nightmare that people love to watch in the form of a music video, but would be a heart-taker if only they went through it. Ten’s idea speaks about losing one self in the middle of our own thoughts, when it’s hard to divide regret from deciding, love from hate—and it’s her. So much that she finds herself enraptured in his thoughts, and for a moment, she thinks she can give her little penny.

“I think we shouldn’t make the music video that dark, though. Like, the idea of a filter on the entire music video would only further emphasize what we’re already showing. It’s a bad idea.” Her tone is serious, leaning over the table to speak properly to Ten, and the man stops pointing at the drawing board to chuckle.

“If we leave everything in a light tone, it’s going to look like a trip dream. We don’t want people to think it’s a video about the aftermath of cocaine, but something serious instead.” Ten replies, eager to open his mouth and explain the end of the video, but she still holds onto her thought.

“It’s a pop song, if we make it too dark, it’ll be too risqué for a debut—”

“But if we make it too light, the idea of the song will be lost and you will be one step closer to being a LMFAO wannabe.”

The stare-off continues for a few seconds, and she has to laugh as she shakes her head. “Listen, I know you’re the expert here, but I don’t think it would look cute.”

“You’re awfully like Angela when you want to, you know that?” Ten spits out, annoyance creeping up on him when he breathes through his nose and speaks again. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve done videos like this before and people love a good storytelling music video.”

Though, her mind is not in that argument anymore. “Why would you say that? You dated Angela, that’s not my fault. You don’t get to diminish people just because they don’t think exactly like you do.”

“A—Alright! Let’s all calm down.” Hao is already up on his feet, ready to launch herself forward if she keeps running her mouth to put one hand over her mouth to stop her. She doesn’t.

Ten gives her one of those smiles that will forever be engraved inside her brain, perhaps for being annoying or for being breathtaking. “That’s exactly what she does. Mrs. Perfect just loved saying everything I did was not good enough, and you’re doing the exact same thing even though you’re just a newbie.”

Ouch. “W—Well, I haven’t seen your name around a lot either.”

“Really? All the music videos I’ve directed in United States and Asia beg to say otherwise.” Ten breathes out, patting his ponytail before clearing his throat. “Listen, I don’t want to fight with you, but the filter is staying. Otherwise, it will look poorly done—”

Four months ago, Angela spoke about how much of a vain asshole he was—and there is nothing she wants more than to show him how much power she could have over him if only she put her mind into it. Make his life difficult, insufferable, just as he’s doing right now for her. “You’re insufferable, aren’t you?” She whispers, well aware that Hao has finally gone to her side of the table and already placed a hand over her mouth.

“I—I’m sorry, she didn’t mean it!” Hao’s apologies are already background music to the tension between Ten and her. She looks at him. He stares right back. Brightness and darkness becoming one, the twinkle on his eye danger beyond all.

“Don’t apologize for her. It’s okay.” Ten indicates, swatting his hand in the air to lay it on the table, leaning his weight forward. Instead, he talks directly to her. “I’m insufferable?”

Pulling Hao’s hand away from her mouth, she replies: “Why? Want me to say it again?”

“No.” Ten adds. “I just want to remind you I’m insufferable now, but I can be even worse.”

Going on with his explanations, she finds herself speechless—but mentally, she’s chatting herself up about how much she hates Ten. How the fuck did Angela date someone like him?

###

“You know,” Hao’s hair is already gray—with some hair-dye, sometimes, he tries to return it to its dark color, but the gray strands appear every once in a while—but it may turn bone white with how much stress is read on his expression. Their usual café does not serve him as a relaxation method, much more when he continues with his dilemma. “I’ve done all I fucking can to get you here, and now that we’re two days away from getting you to record your music video, you decide it’s a good idea to drink lemonade like a maniac and fight Ten in the process.”

The straw in between her lips slips from her hold when she looks up, and it’s true—this is her second glass of lemonade, relishing on the sweetness and sourness of it all, and it may damage her throat, but it’s what she craves right now. “Hao, it will be fine. I’m just not letting that asshole talk to me as if I’m stupid.”

The white and cream walls of the café contrast with the harsh sigh that rips from his throat, running his hands over his face, playing around with his cheeks a bit. “Listen, stop drinking lemonade and listen to yourself for a second,” He says. “He’s one of the most famous music directors at this moment…and he does a damn good job at it. You’re set to succeed and, still, you want to fuck it up.”

“That man is crazy!” She completes her sentence with some hand motions, looking down at her lemonade and pondering if she should drink another one. Does she want to go to the bathroom for the entirety of the night, or, would she rather just control her nervousness? After all, she’ll have a big shoot in two days. “I’m all about self-confidence and positivity, about self-love, too, but I’m sure if Ten could be cloned, he’d choose to date himself.”

Hao tilts his head to the side at that moment. “I mean, if I looked like him, I would definitely date myself, too.” He replies, laughter following his statement before he places one hand over hers, stopping her from taking her glass of lemonade once again. “Hey, hear me out. I’m serious. I don’t want you to fail on your dream only to end up giving a hand-job for five bucks in some bar downtown because no one wants to listen to your voice anymore.”

Harsh, the hostility in his voice comes from a place of deep worry—but there is nothing to worry about. If Ten is as sensible as a flower when it comes to honesty, then that’s his fault. “Why am I the one that ends up giving a hand-job in some bar downtown when he’s the one that treated me like shit?”

“Because you weren’t so polite, either!” Hao replies. “You could’ve easily lifted your hand,” And he does. “And said—” Then, he changes his tone to one that matches hers. Maybe, a bit lower. “Excuse me, Ten, I think we could arrange a lighter tone in the filter because it would look better, in my opinion. May we add some colors? I’m not too experienced in this, but I would like for my opinion to be taken into consideration for this.”

She blinks. Once. Twice. Three times and a few more before she says. “And that is what I would never say. What do I do after? Kiss his feet? Call him my master?”

“That’s being polite. You’re at a workplace.”

“I’m the artist.”

“And you’re a newbie.”

“And?” She drags her voice, eyes widening. “Madonna was once a newbie. Beyoncé was once a newbie. Do you think Beyoncé has no say in what goes in her music videos?”

Patience is Hao’s best virtue, maybe, or he really is mostly like a father figure to her. “Well then, produce something as good as Lemonade or as Single Ladies, and we won’t even need Ten to start with.”

She throws her head back, looking up at the white ceiling with anger flushing from inside of her. Ten, a masterpiece from the outside, a piece of garbage on the inside. A trashcan has less odor than his personality. Whatever. “Why are you so in love with Ten all of the sudden?”

“I’m not in love with Ten. I’m in love with the opportunity that means having him as your director. You’re set to a good start, that’s all I want for you.”

Her heart melts, dripping onto the center of her body, leaving her with a smile on her face. Why ask for richness when she already has the best, she could ever ask for right here, in her life? “Thanks, Hao.” She replies, wrapping her fingers around his hand and tightening her hold. “We’re going to skyrocket in this business, just—just let me sit Ten down in his place when he really needs to. Just some ass-flatting so he knows how to treat me.”

“Watch out—”

She rolls her eyes then. “I’ll be fine. I won’t attack him if he doesn’t attack me. I’m a revengeful person, not a stupid one.”

“Questionable.”

“Hao.”

“So, now that we’ve settled that.” The man stands up then, downing the rest of her lemonade in one go before snapping his fingers together. “I’m getting you some tea for those vocal cords. I need a high note.”

###

Wild hair, dampened almost romantically, makes her skin glimmer with goosebumps as the coldness of the night hits her in the abandoned building that Ten has set his mind recording the first scene into. Everyone knew that it was going to be this cold, sporting coats over coats, sweaters, holding cups of hot chocolate or coffee. Instead, she’s the artist that has to stand looking at Ten from up-close as he explains to Hong and herself what they’re going to do for the first scene.

The sleeves of Ten’s sweater trail down his hands, keeping him covered even past the jacket on his shoulders. With his gelled back hair, he’s an ode to trouble. The kind of people most lovers run away from in fear of being caught up in his trap. With his tongue in between his lips, Ten concentrates on what one of the staffs talks about—the lights and how they’re going to fall on certain angles to make the shadows more appealing and more fitted for her face. She doesn’t understand much, but what she does understand is the beauty of Ten’s features when he brings his cup of coffee up to his lips.

Ten is a poem made person—those that twist in between the good and the bad, and sometimes, when she looks at him, she can’t tell if he’s deeply saddened or in love with the world. Not that she should care, if anything, Ten is bitter about people not painting the world how he wants it. Or, that’s what she wants to believe when he catches her staring at him.

“I want you to act as if your song is stuck in your head and it…you want it to get it out of there. Dance to your will, but I want you to touch your head a lot, maybe play with your hair?”

“I wasn’t given a choreography, Ten.” She replies, silently cursing the cold as she blows raspberries onto her hands. With an eye-roll of his own, Ten’s cup is given to her with one brief movement, the man moving his shoulders a bit as he speaks.

“We’re recording the first verse here, I’ll tell you when to stop, but I had thought something like this. Not a choreography, just common sense. Feeling the music, as one would say.” The wind blows on his hair when Ten lets his voice romantically wrap around the lyrics of her song, motions matching that of a dance as he makes it visually perceivable that he can’t stand whatever is going on inside his head—this insecurity, this limbo that she talks about in her song. With his legs strutting as if he’s on a runway, she hums.

“I’ll see what I can do,” She answers, taking a sip of Ten’s coffee before being delighted by the taste. He makes good choices when it’s not iced coffee. “You can sing, though.”

“…A normal amount. Anyone can sing.” Ten says, ready to go over to the staff in charge of the fans that will blow at her hair and make her seem the slightest bit more stylish. She doesn’t know, she has never been in front of the cameras, and maybe that’s why she goes after Ten.

“No. You actually sing and dance. How—?”

“I used to watch MTV a hell of a lot when I was younger.” Ten breathes out, the wind curling onto his words and leaving an imprint of white onto it. A kiss from him that is visible for the world. “…And I would sing along to all these songs, learn some dance steps. I was in dancing classes for a while, but I got more interested about the behind-the-scenes stuff. Art meets art, you know.”

But he never does look at her, not even when she lowers her face to look right at his eyes. He only inspects her for a second before returning his gaze to the fans, checking them one by one. “It’s even more surprising that you learned the lyrics to my song.”

“You’re not a shitty artist. At least, not as shitty as you get when something doesn’t go your way.”

Fuck this dude.

Honestly.

Or, rather, don’t think about fucking this dude, because she feels her knees buckling up a bit when a smile appears on the corner of his lips.

“Speak for yourself!”

“I am.”

“You are so conceited.”

“That’s the Angela in you speaking. If you go meet someone with the predisposition of feeling like you know them and their flaws, you’ll find them.” Ten shrugs his shoulders then, turning around to look at her without noticing how their chests flush together, pressed to one another and yet, powerful enough to make her give a step back. “I’m confident about what I’m talking about. Never conceited. If I know what I’m doing, I just say it out loud.”

“First and foremost, my opinions about you are not levelled by what Angela has said about you to me.” But they do play around to certain extent. After all, she initially thought Ten was vain without even getting to know him. Fuck him and his nice logic. She puffs her chest out to defend herself, one hand on her waist. “And secondly, I am also confident about what I think about, thank you very much.”

“Good for you.” Ten answers, and the curtness of his reply has her pressing her lips together. This man will make her end up in anger management. “Anyways. Are you a fan of Christina Aguilera?”

“Her voice…” She has to breathe in for a second. “To die for. Why?”

“I need you to have the confidence she had for the ‘Dirty’ music video.”

The gasp that leaves her in unexpectedly loud, making some of the staff look at her as if she’s a fish out of the water. “She is fucking Christina Aguilera, how am I going to challenge Chris—?”

“You’re you. Challenge your inner diva.”

She quirks an eyebrow at him. “Ten, do I look like a diva to you?”

“No, your inner self is a denied track for ‘Nevermind’ by Nirvana—but hey, I need some troubled diva to come through. Your outer self is badass right now, keep that.”

“What do you mean a denied track?” She asks, though, she can’t help but show a smile on her features, and Ten simply has to laugh at her antics.

“As troublesome as Kurt and Courtney together, but somehow, it’s appealing.” Throwing her head back, she lets the sarcasm in his voice get to her.

“I am not troublesome.”

“All musicians are.”

“What about music video directors, huh?” She asks, moving over to the center of the cameras as she throws a look at him. The redness of her lips captures his attention for a second, or maybe, he’s just concentrating on what she is saying. “I’m sure that there’s some emotional, Panic! At The Disco scene era, loving asshole under all that bite you have.”

He hums, sitting down on his director chair before speaking loudly. “I don’t know, figure it out, Christina.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so difficult to talk to, Brendon.”

“I’d rather be Ryan.” Ten corrects, and a smile appears on her face. Huh, so he really did watch MTV back in the day. “He wrote all the songs in the first album. That’s more of a mastermind for the era you’re talking about.”

“So much for telling me I’m the Nirvana denied track made person.”

“…Well, I got the bite and the diva out of you, didn’t I?”

That’s the day she realizes that Ten has more than just a vain side to him, that when he’s seated on his throne in the shape of a director’s chair, he’s much easier to talk to. That his knowledge in music, for the first time in a person she has met, matches hers and she doesn’t quite hate talking to him when it’s about that. It’s annoying, sure, but it’s better than what they started with.

###

“How much do you think I would make if I sold pictures of my feet?”

Shishi’s questions are always something to look forward to, much more when her face is stained in red and a glass of wine is on one hand, checking her phone while talking to Angela and her. Her YouTube video is uninteresting in this girl’s night-out turned sleepover, mostly because all three of them are too tipsy to go anywhere else, and Angela’s place is always the tidiest of the bunch.

“Depends.” She says, lifting her own glass of wine and taking a sip of it. “I don’t think I’ve openly talked to someone about foot fetishes, but…like, is it sexier if the toes are stubbier or like, is it hotter if they are slim toes? Do they have to be hairy toes?”

Angela puts her glass of wine down with a continued, harsh slap against her thighs. “You say toe one more time and I’m going to put my actual toe down your throat for being so disgusting.”

Shishi raises her hand slowly, as if she’s in the middle of class and wants to ask a question, so Angela can look her way. “If you do put your toe down her throat, can I record it and sell it on the internet so I can buy a Levi Ackerman body pillow?”

The answer comes from both Angela and herself at the same time: “No, Shishi!”

With mostly silence overtaking the room as Shishi roams the deepest of information about foot fetishes and the cost of feet pictures online, and Angela says she’s going to prepare some food to take some of the tipsiness away, she opts to enter Instagram. Not that she does that much often—and she can already hear Hao scolding her for it inside her head, for she should have a social media following, but the standards of normality that exist in such social media site really do get to her. There’s only so much she can stand before it actually starts playing with her head.

She brings her thumb up to her mouth to nibble on it softly, rushing through her scrolling to get to the latest picture and clicking her tongue when only seeing one picture of her interest. Though, to be unexpectedly convenient, Instagram suggests some people to follow for her, and much to her lack of knowledge, the appearance of Ten’s name and a small, circular picture of him is enough of an invitation for her to tap on his profile.

The last time she saw Ten was three weeks ago, and in less than a week, her music video would be released for the world to see. With some promotion, of course, not that she has quite paid attention to that without feeling like bawling. But, something about his profile makes her feel more connected to him. Only because he’s as immaculate on his social media as he is with his music videos, and he does look damn fine in every picture that she taps onto.

Now, one of the finest things that could be created in this life is the combination of fries and ketchup…and Ten challenges that. Head on. Face first. He puts all foods to shame, even the wine on her hand, with how fine he seems to be on every picture, and maybe it’s the liquid courage trailing after her actions that has her clicking the follow button and looking through his stories.

Because, let’s be honest—he’s annoying. He was annoying as all hell. But there is a double standard to that…he’s awfully uncapable of making himself be liked personality-wise when he’s working, but if he shuts his lips for one single second, he’s a dream come true.

He is asking for questions on his story, and her fingers move fast simply to jot down an innocent inquiry: “Favorite MV to direct?”

The answer comes less than fifteen minutes later, when Shishi’s head is laying on her lap and the smell of pasta has her stomach growling and asking for garlic bread as soon as possible. Her mouth watering, imagining the perfect bread siding past her lips for her to take a bite—

The image is black, but the answer is enough of a hit on the face for her to sit up straighter. “Yours.” He replied, with a tongue-out emoji after.

This man is the sole reason she doesn’t know the difference between sexual tension and absolute hatred.

To: @tenlee_1001

You’re joking.

And the three dots that appear soon after have her biting down on her lip.

From: @tenlee_1001

Maybe, stalker.

To: @tenlee_1001

I’m not stalking you.

From: @tenlee_1001

Said, the liar.

To: @tenlee_1001

You’re lucky I’m too drunk to reply to that.

How’s it been?

From: @tenlee_1001

Good.

How have you been?

To: @tenlee_1001

Hungry.

Angela’s making pasta right now and I can’t wait.

From: @tenlee_1001

Are you and Angela always tied to the hip?

To: @tenlee_1001

Not really.

Does that bother you?

From: @tenlee_1001

She’s nice.

Sometimes, two nice people just can’t be together.

To: @tenlee_1001

Are you meant to be the other half of that statement?

From: @tenlee_1001

Yeah, haha.

I’m nicer than you think.

To: @tenlee_1001

Prove it.

From: @tenlee_1001

I don’t have to prove anything to anyone.

To: @tenlee_1001

Said, the nicest guy on earth.

From: @tenlee_1001

Ah, fuck you.

All the people I’ve dated said I’m the nicest guy they’ve met.

Maybe, it’s the garlic in the air, the wine on her hand, or Shishi’s heavy head on her lap that dizzies her when she says:

To: @tenlee_1001

Then, take me out on a date.

Or, are you chicken?

It’s been a while since she has talked to a man like this, and, for fuck’s sake, she’s supposed to be hating this man. Throwing her phone on the cushion beside her, she tries to stifle her screech. Okay, sure, it will be okay, things could be worse—

And then, her phone vibrates and it takes her a second for her to check it.

From: @tenlee_1001

Okay. Let me just plan something.

I’ll take you out next Friday.

It’s a date, Aguilera.

To: @tenlee_1001

…Okay, Ryan.

And not exactly Gosling.

From: @tenlee_1001

Is that supposed to hurt me?

To: @tenlee_1001

No.

Because not all guys can be Ryan Gosling.

Maybe, she’s too tipsy to be having this conversation, but when she sees Ten has just followed her on Instagram, she knows it’s game over for her.

###

Eloquently dangerous is the worst kind of trouble a lover looks for. In the shape of Ten seated on the driver’s seat, legs parted and both of his hands resting on the lower part of the steering wheel. When he picked her up, the stiff conversation tightened around their necks, leaving them speechless—but music unites them again. After all, it’s the reason why they met and why they’re going out on this date to start with.

According to Ten, whose long hair is enough of a call-out for her to lean herself to the side to be able to talk to him from a closer position and still, wish she could rake her fingers through it, there is a restaurant forty minutes away from her place that is to die for. Thai, he said, and she’s not about to contradict him on that. On the way there, Ten’s conversation lingers within her with interest, enough for her to nod her head along to the beat of ‘Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)’ by Nancy Sinatra.

“This song makes me feel like I’m in a post-apocalyptic world and I’m looking for revenge.” She says, eyes staring at his profile. What a blessing it would be to call the smile on his face hers, but it isn’t. His short-sleeved button down moves a bit over his collarbone, just when he throws a glance over his shoulder.

“That’s the mentality of a director.” Ten indicates, though he licks his lips and waits for the last few seconds of the song to pass by. “I don’t listen to it that much, even when it’s in my playlist, but it mostly reminds me of this scenery…an ex going to a wedding and killing the bride just because of jealousy. The secret to not letting go and how twisted it can be.” He shrugs soon after. “That’s the meaning of the song, in my opinion.”

“Damn.” She replies, a hiss following her statement as she sits down straighter. “Are you that type of ex?”

“Of course not.” His voice is rapid to defend himself, before clearing his throat. “But you should know more about me as an ex, considering you’re good friends with Angela.”

She remembers Angela being full of Ten’s shit, the way she deleted all their pictures in the blink of an eye before locking herself in her job. She doesn’t exactly recall anything else other than knowing Ten is— “She told me you were vain.”

“…Fuck.” He chuckles then, though a bit dark in the process. “I am not vain, we were just two stubborn people who got into a relationship without really knowing each other.”

The last part hits home, and she has to bite her bottom lip when she starts to hear the tune to Alicia Keys’ ‘Show Me Love’, perhaps featured by Miguel, but her mind can’t come up with the truest answer at this moment. “I understand that. Relationships are really fucking difficult. You ignore all the red flags just to get with someone.”

“That sounds awfully like someone remembering their ex.” Ten says, a hum to his tone in the form of a song.

“I don’t remember him much. Too overconfident for how bad of a lover he was.” She tells him, and a smile spreads across his face when he passes a green light.

“Is that a connotation for what I’m thinking about?”

“You know, I’m just saying, at least you had something serious with Angela.” For a second, her mind lingers in the nights in hotel rooms, always being picked up by a man simply to end anywhere but a place to have a date in. Tangled in between his sheets, getting lost in his physique, in the way his lips wrapped around her and how much he seemed to desire her. Desire is not the same as love. “You didn’t have to deal with a guy who seemed to like everyone and you. I was a little toy for a guy and that’s the thing I regret the most.”

“Shit.” Ten curses, raising both eyebrows before shaking his head. “What made you fall for an asshole like that?”

“He was a web designer. I thought that a nerdy guy mixed with a gym-rat body is what I wanted.” She answers, bringing laughter up Ten’s chest, his eyes wrapping up in their magic, enigmatic stance. “He was afraid of commitment, I think he had daddy issues, too. I met him because he went to one of my shows in a bar downtown.”

“And you became friends with benefits?”

“Are we really friends if I know nothing about him other than his body?”

“Damn.”

The lyrics embrace her ears and enter her brain when, indeed, Miguel’s voice fills the air and much to her surprise, she does know this song—

Without realizing, she tries to remember the lyrics, mumbling some of the words and jumbling the others, and Ten hates this enough to shake his head, lifting one hand in the air to instruct the tempo to her. “It’s ‘you gon’ show me love like, like you tried it—’, two likes, honey.”

At the mention of such a nickname, she has to push his shoulder sightly. “Honey?”

“Why? Did your little asshole ex call you that?”

“He was not my ex.”

“He’s an ex if he got to be with you.”

“Why? Jealous?” Quirking an eyebrow, she is surprised when she sees Ten shrugging.

“I shouldn’t be jealous when I know that, if I really put my mind into it, I can do a much better job than him at winning you over.”

She has to hiss at this moment. “I don’t buy it; I feel like you still hate me.”

The car starts going slower by the time Ten gives her a reply. “If I really hated you, would I have taken you out on a date?”

“Maybe, you’re just planning to take me out to this horrid place and—”

“Oh, no, no, no, no.”

The car comes to an abrupt halt at that moment, and Ten’s head lulls against the steering wheel at the same time that a groan creeps up his vocal cords. “What happened?” The car is still on, however, so it must not be the engine fucking their date up.

“Didn’t you feel that?” She shakes her head then. “You’re dead inside. I think one of the wheels has, I don’t know, like a nail piercing through it.”

When Ten gets out of the car, right after turning off the car, she’s left in complete darkness—and she hates it. Why is it that when everything is going well for them, a wheel decides to just fucking deflate and almost kill them? At least, they’re in a somewhat safe street. “Ten, hold up—” She says, taking her phone out of her pocket to shine a light onto the wheel he is inspecting, trying not to let her eyes trail down to his toned legs. “We can call someone and they’ll get here in no time, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“It’s a Friday night. It’s even more difficult to get someone to help us at this time.” Ten instructs, and she decides to lighten things up in the worst way possible.

“It seems like you’re not that good of a driver, considering you know what to do in this situation—”

Ten sends a glare over his shoulder, some strands of his hair passing over his face, and she has to give him a cramped smile. “I am a good driver.”

“It was a joke!”

He manages to give her a short laugh before bringing his own phone out of his pocket. “I’m calling a friend that can come help us out.” And he does, his back becoming the main image he sees, his slim body but nicely squared shoulders making her scrunch up her nose and close her eyes tightly. There’s always something going on between them, ain’t it?

Sitting down on the sidewalk, she lets the coldness seep through her jeans, staring at the city lights that are even more beautiful than the harsh one from her phone. She turns it off, but uses her phone to distract herself in a different way. Music must be the only way she can relax herself, a breath in and a breath out as she looks through her playlist.

But nothing sits right with her, only listening to a few seconds before she switches the song to something else. However, a presence makes itself known by her side, no longer talking to his friend but, instead, sending an eye over to her phone and letting his finger roam over the screen.

“I like this one.” And she has to cackle at the choice of songs. Definitely something of the like that is expected from him, ‘34+35’ by Ariana Grande fills the air in between them, and much to her surprise, Ten knows how to sing along to some of the lyrics.

“Are you trying to hint at something?” She jokes around, dipping her feet in the water just because she can, and the warmth of him by her side isn’t quite as unpleasant in this winter blues.

If she could see his cheeks, she would be able to tell that they are tinted deep red, and that the small, almost inaudible laugh that leaves him is one of the most beautiful sounds she has ever been welcomed to. “I’m not saying anything. You’re the one being dirty-minded.”

“Oh, come on, the song is definitely about—”

“She says: ‘love me ‘til the daylight’.”

“What the fuck? No!” She corrects, giggling a bit when Ten drapes his coat on top of both their bodies, mingling closer until his perfume becomes a drug she can’t get enough of. “She says: ‘fuck me ‘til the daylight’.”

“Too much to say on a first date, you know?” Ten conquers, and she has to laugh directly at his face.

“We’re not getting it on tonight, Ten.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t say we were going to! You brought it up.”

“Whatever.” She replies, resting her head on his shoulder before sighing deeply. “When is your friend coming?”

“In an hour, if he’s lucky.” Ten instructs, and she doesn’t want to look disappointed, but Ten had painted the restaurant they were going to go to as the best thing in this world—

“I’m hungry.” Her lips puff out in a bit of a pout as he speaks, and Ten takes this as a cue to take the car keys, lock the device before standing up, leaving his coat over her shoulders.

His hand extends, an anchor for her to take, messing up with her temper when he waves his fingers and invites her in a way that makes her heart beat like a fool’s. It’s been too damn long since she’s felt like this. “There’s a convenience store nearby…and, I don’t know, maybe we could buy some burgers and fries in the way there? Eat somewhere less cold, too.”

When their fingers interlock, she thinks she gets a grasp of exactly why Angela had rushed into a relationship with him. He’s magic in its truest form. “Fries sound amazing right now.”

They start walking, though the conversation never dies down. “Do you like do dip them in ice cream, ketchup or mayonnaise?”

“People dip it in mayonnaise?”

“That’s less chaotic than the ones that dip it in mustard.”

“…The end of the world is near.”

His laughter is nicely welcomed, a blanket for her to keep herself warm in this cold night. Though, his hands and his coat do as much, as well.

###

With Angela’s Yorkshire Terrier held up on her arms, the dog licking up her face for the umpteenth time and probably doing his best to take off the rest of her makeup, not managing to steal a kiss from her when she moves her face around in the way to the vet, she continues talking to her friend with intention. Five days after her last date with Ten, and the first one at that, and she can’t seem to stop running her mouth about it.

“Really, Ange. I don’t know why you thought it was a good idea to break his heart when he was an absolute sweetheart—” She says, the harsh sunshine falling on top of her face, and this dog is adorable, much more now that he doesn’t know that he’s going to get his mandatory shots, but if he continues licking her face, she may lose the skin of her cheek. “Did you know that he loves Alicia Keys? And that he loves drawing? He’s so stylish, too, and he’s so open about talking about himself.”

“Because he loves himself.” Angela interrupts, placing the keys of her car inside her purse before sending a smile her way. Before she could say anything, Angela speaks up. “But I’m happy for you, babe. We both know that you deserve someone who treats you right. Even if it’s my ex.”

At the mention of such a title, she has to stop her rambling. “You’re okay with it, right?”

“Of course.” And the truthfulness of her tone has her releasing a sigh from the depths of her worry. “I’m not insecure, honey. Not even jealous. Ten is nothing for me now. I don’t like him, but I don’t like him for me. As long as he treats you right, we’re okay.”

Though, she does feel a bit of curiousness about the relationship that ensued in between the two, but maybe that’s too early to talk about when she has only been talking to him through the phone, planning dates, meeting up in the briefest of moments when they both have time. After all, her song is doing good and now, she’s recording an album—

Her phone rings at that moment, eyes opening widely when she hears the specific ringtone she has for Hao. “Angela, take your dog. That’s Hao calling.” Though, the woman doesn’t relent when she passes the sweet dog over to her. Her phone fits her hand perfectly when she picks up the call, ear welcoming the sound of Hao’s familiar voice. “Hao, Hao, what’s up?”

“Nothing much…” His voice trails, but it’s unusual for him to call just because. Just when she continues walking in the parking lot, Hao decides to say something. “But you’re going to be opening show for the tour of one of the biggest artists in this country, that’s all that’s happening right now. Not much.”

If she could scream right now, she would.

Her hand spreads on top of her face, jelly on toast, made to be there. Shivers going up her neck, body paralyzed in her spot, her free arm going up to raise into the air—feel the wind, the sun, let it ravish her as her dreams give a glimpse of becoming true. The fever of stardom and success rips a squeal out of her, twirling on her own spot as words of thankfulness become one with the air around her. For once, she feels like an artist—like her voice can be heard, heart healed by the heel of the world and how it twists around to her favor.

“I’m going on tour!” She finally screams, happiness meeting her lungs, breathing in a way that doesn’t feel cramped. The world is good for once, and Angela’s smile matches her own.

###

The worst part of it all is saying goodbye to something that didn’t happen.

Her friends know about fashion more than she does, a red jacket draped over an almost all-black outfit, while they all wear clothing that seems to be fitted for the party in her honor. Well, not in her honor at all—but for the main artist of the world tour that will start in no less than a week from now, such short notice, and she was invited in the process. The elongated hallways of the hotel the party will take place in, extra expensive at that, barely do much to conceal the laughter that bubbles from her friend-group or the sound of their singing to their latest single, well over a million views in YouTube as of now, and directed by then.

She hasn’t told him. It’s that one thing that she doesn’t know if she should talk about or not. Whenever they eat together, she feels like telling him…but she stops herself for some reason. It’s the brink of not knowing if he cares or if it would hurt him, but the world knows what it is doing. With her boots hitting the tiles with expertise, she doesn’t expect to hear her name being called, with such a soft and nice tone that she already knows whose it is.

When she looks over her shoulder, her friends stopping their singing and laughing to stare at the scene displayed in front of them, Ten rests his back against one of the bathroom doors near the entrance to the main salon for the party. With a bun laying on top of his head, the strands of his black hair falling behind his neck, she’s surprised to see him so put together—white button down, trousers, and a poised look on his face when he says:

“Congratulations. Not that you told me but…I’m so happy you’re going on tour.” Her heart races at that moment, not caring that Angela is there, that her friends are glancing at Ten and speaking between themselves as she moves with certainty, taking her place in front of him and grasping his hands in both of hers, eyes shifting to every portion of his face. The face of a man she wants to have, but can’t.

“T—Ten, uh, I didn’t tell you because I thought you wouldn’t care. It’s nothing against you, really, but since we don’t have anything serious yet—”

“I’m not mad.” He says, a small smile on his face. “Why would I be mad when this is all you have ever asked for?”

A halo exists over him, and she doesn’t know why she hated him on the first place at this moment. Perfection in the form of a man that she can’t get to know so well right now, simply because her career is launching and so is his. “Well, you’re more used to travelling than I am. After all, you’re always all around for shootings and director stuff that I don’t know about—”

“It’s damn fun. Seeing the world that way…you’ll love it.” Ten whispers, sending one look over to her group of friends before lowering his voice. “Can you just tell them to leave?”

“Yeah.” She says, looking at her friends before speaking up. “Get it going, there’s a party waiting for you!”

In between whispers of their own and some looks at them, she doesn’t realize that Ten’s hands have taken place on her waist, bringing her closer to inspect her features. Looking at her as if she’s the only woman in the world, when she had thought he had only seen himself all along— “I wish you would’ve told me, though. I was invited by Hao and got the news thanks to him.”

Hao is either really blessed or the unluckiest man alive. “I just didn’t know how to tell you. After all, I—” She mumbles, swallowing thickly after. “I wanted to try things out for you. With you. Ah, you know—”

“There’s always ‘later’. Maybe not now, but maybe, we’re just meant to connect in some other time of our lives.” His words make her cling closer to him, fists tangling onto his shirt, taking more of him— “And until then, live your dream and I’ll live mine. The gratitude of being the best version of ourselves is more important right now.”

When she leans her head forward, his lips come in contact with the bridge of her nose, breathing softly, a silent confession, a plea to let go of the world for one night and be there with each other. One of their latest nights together, of the impossibility of minutes as they glare at them from the clock and ask them to pull away.

“I wish we could’ve gotten a real chance.” She whispers, laying her head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his waist as his thumbs draw on her back.

“We’ll get to try later.”

Later sounds like forever when he is right there, within her reach, and yet so far away. The promise of a goodbye is shadowed by the trials of continuing with their connection. That, maybe, losing time with him was her worst mistake, the reason why it shatters her heart—

But later is also a moment, a moment that will welcome her after tour.

#ten scenarios #ten #wayv scenarios #wayv #nct scenarios #nct #writing #wayv angst #wayv fluff #wayv au #ten angst #ten fluff #ten au #how to lose someone in seven steps?

[enmy-writes]

Baby Avenger

Summary: (Y/N) is one of the youngest avenger members and some government officials repeatedly let her know of “her position.” So, she lets them know exactly what her position is.

Word Count: 2100

Fandom: MCU Avengers

Pairing: Avengers x Reader

Genre: Fluff, soft, slight angst and sadness, & family love.

Rated: 18+

Content Warnings: profanity, death, abandonment, bullying, this is my first ever post of any fanfiction ever so it’s probably bad

**** This is my first ever imagine that I have ever finished and published. Please give me feedback and let me know what else I should write! I’m very excited and nervous so please let me know if you enjoyed this :) I’m thinking of making this Y/N character into a little “Baby Avenger” one-shot series, so let me know your thoughts ****

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Baby Avenger.

Baby Avenger.

Baby. Avenger.

 In her head, her stomping can be heard throughout the whole Compound and all of its residents and guests can hear her anger. They know she’s going right to the meeting room; not the team meeting room, but the meeting room they use when they have special guests in for a meeting.

The new government officials who are now “in charge” of the Avengers since The Snap Part 2 were in for the day to go over the general plans that the Avengers have been coming up with. They’re nicer than those in charge of the group from the Accords, but in no way were they nice to majority of the group as a whole.

(Y/N) (L/N) happens to be the second to youngest member on the team coming in at an age of 18, second only to her best friend Peter Parker

(Y/N) is an orphan, the typical origin story of any superhero. Her parents spent their last minutes pushing her out of their burning house in rural Pennsylvania. Actually, it was her father who got her out of the flames and by their fishpond 100 meters from the house. Her mother was inside, trapped under a steal beam in the basement.

(Y/N)’s mother was a scientist who worked in secret in a little band of scientists who tried to accomplish their own small victories in testing the alterations and limits of humans. The goal of these scientists is to stay out of sight of the CIA, FBI, S.H.I.E.L.D., and other government agencies. Most of them are left alone and those who get found are either immediately sent to a high security prison or recruited to continue their experiments for a certain country/agency.

(Y/N)’s mother decided to give herself her treatment she was working on instead of potentially kidnapping someone in the everyone-knows-everything kind of town that they had been living in. Her experiment and life studies were all in trying to find a way to unlock the rest of the human brain so that more than that small percentage is being used at a time. It has been hypothesized that humans could do a lot if their brains just used itself more.

The only problem is when she gave the treatment to herself, she was unknowingly pregnant, and the treatment attached onto that small lifeform instead of her own. She created a super baby.

No one knew the exact answer to what is on the other side of that tunnel of science. No one knew what opening the mind could do, there were only theories to support ideas. Plenty of scientific evidence, but it meant nothing with no legit proof.

Well, turns out that those on the team of “you will gain the ability to read minds and shit unlike any human” were the correct guessers.

(Y/N) can read others’ minds, move things with her mind, slow down time in her mind to be able to successfully breakdown a situation and perform the best possible reaction to anything that comes her way. Oh, and the color spectrum is broader for her, allowing her to see a significantly more amount of colors than a normal human (including seeing the aura’s and heat that people give off. Very useful in the few missions she goes on.).

But her parents are dead.

After setting small (Y/N) down, her father ran back in to save the love of his life. Or, well, that’s what the towns’ people say to romanticize the situation. A brave man trying to save his family.

In the end, her father had shaken his head, laughing at the moment like a mad man with tears running down his face. He pulled (Y/N) in for the tightest hug that he had ever given the girl—which is tight considering how close the two really were. They were just like two peas in a pod, the light of each other’s lives, basically soulmates.

But love makes you do crazy things.

“You listen to me, (Y/N).” He gripped her face in a painful grip, cheeks sure to be bruised later. “I will always love you. Don’t doubt that, baby girl, okay? I love you so so so so much” By this time, tears are pouring off his face, the neon flames coming from the house reflecting off his wet face. “Mommy… mommy just needs me now, baby. I need mommy, too. We love you so much.”

It had confused her, his words. Nothing could prepare her to watch her father run back into the house, leaving her by the pond with nothing but a small bag of little family things like pictures, little stupid gifts, and a notebook she had stolen from her mom’s bookshelf one day.

Her mother’s grandfather had been friends with Howard Stark, both science men having been in the same circle of famous inventors since before WWII. While neither her mother nor father personally knew his son, Tony, he was still listed as the godfather to the child. With no close friends allowed in their secret circle, old bonds and pacts that her grandfather had with the older Stark led to a blind trust in the man.

Tony Stark had agreed to be the godfather during a one-week bender in his 30s, and when he was yelled at about it, he chose to just keep it there because “the chances of this happening is very slim.”

But here we are, Baby Avenger.

The officials who are here now actually were the same people that used to do check-ins and such with them pre-Accords, so they knew the team better than any government official save for the rare union that the team members may have with government officials. (Y/N) randomly has one with the Queen of England (she did a favor for Her Majesty once, and now they have tea every third Thursday of every month).

They knew that Tony suffered from panic attacks, and they knew Steve was going through a never ending loop of an existential crisis, and that Bucky will most likely always be having an identity crisis, and that Sam cries to sleep a lot around a certain time of year that renders him almost useless in his sleep deprived state he puts himself into. They know EVERYTHING vulnerable about the team.

So, that means they know how when she first got to the team and to Tony that she wouldn’t speak to anyone unless absolutely necessary. It took her almost a year to be able to speak more than a sentence to every person she was around. No one was too upset, though, Tony was trying to figure out how to save himself and rebrand his whole legacy and the Avengers weren’t really a family family yet like they are now. (Y/N)’s shyness made it much easier on the adults to figure out their stressful situations.

The officials, though, never got why she wouldn’t speak to them. They actually pushed her progress back more and more with taunts and comments such as “Oh, the baby can’t speak?” or a “Get your phone out! She’s about to say her first words!” every time she did go to say something.

Tony soon got fed up with it and filed a lawsuit against them which threatened their agency enough to pull them out and let a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent be a liaison for them. After their presence was rid of, (Y/N) grew exponentially with her new family. She was still home schooled, but now she had Peter Parker as a friend and world geniuses as her teachers. She was an only child, but now she’s a big sister to Morgan and has plenty of people on the team that are dubbed her siblings (since they don’t act their age majority of the time to be considered aunts and uncles).

While she’s trained to fight, (Y/N) doesn’t go out on the field much unless they need her brain or her extended vision. She likes to remain behind the computer screen and help that way. She’s invented a way to make prosthetics like Bucky’s become more available to the general public and has started a school/home that’s three miles from the Compound for orphaned kids, mutants, super kids, and those who aren’t accepted where they come from.

In conclusion, (Y/N) is 18 and not useless in any way, shape, or form.

So why, why, do these absolute short dick idiots decide that they can come into here, her home, and push her around like she hasn’t contributed more to the Earth and society in the short 18 years than their middle-aged asses?

Eyes narrowed and seeing red, she stomps her way down the last hall, shoving herself into the door of the meeting room and throwing it open.

The team stays unfazed, knowing she’d show up pissed at some point. The officials, though, jump in their seat and turn to look at her.

It wasn’t the biggest meeting, the original Avengers plus Bucky, Sam, and Wanda sit around the table. Though, Rocket and Groot are here sitting along the back wall, looking bored as hell. Thor must have drug them along.

Fists clenched, (Y/N) narrows her eyes more. She’s been here since the first attack. Sure, she didn’t fight since she was like, 8 or so, but she was in charge of her man-behind-the-computer work. She’s been a part of the team since the beginning, and these assholes are too big of pricks to acknowledge that.

That’s what’s pissing the girl off. This could have been a meeting for every one of the fighters of the team, which she wouldn’t go to because that’s not her role. This meeting, though, was scheduled as “Originals plus the newly appointed leaders only.” She’s an original.

SHE IS AN ORIGINAL.

SHE. IS. AN. OG.

AND YET, they remained in telling her she wasn’t invited because “The Baby Avenger doesn’t need to join big kid conversation.”

She locked eyes with her adopted father and her best friend, aka Peter Parker, aka the only reason she knew this meeting was still being held.

Poor, lovely Peter. He grew confused when his best friend wasn’t sitting in between Mr. Stark and him for the meeting, especially when the officials referred to the meeting as they did. He was just there to take notes for Mr. Stark, not that the man wouldn’t remember it all. Pepper thought it’d be a good idea if Tony had written evidence to anything said in these meetings so that he wouldn’t be pouring statements out of his ass without proof, and poor, lovely Peter got elected to take such notes.

When he noticed you weren’t there, he had sent you a text asking where you were and that your drink that he brought you was right next to him.

“(Y/N)! It is so great to see you, my wonderful flower.” Thick arms wrapped around her as a golden man squeezed her tight to him. Thor and (Y/N) had a special relationship. They’re always close and do the most innocent of tasks together like flower crowns, step-by-step painting classes, and making those Tik Tok crocheted blankets made with that big yarn. He even had taken her to Asgard (back when it was a planet) for a royal ball where she was the guest of honor. They’re just soft together.

Though, rage blocked that softness that normally occurs between the two. Pushing off of him, she points her finger at the men in the front. The officials look like they’ve seen the devil and all of Hell and (Y/N) can see the fear pouring off of them.

“Let’s get this clear,” she says as she slowly stalks her way up to them. “I am an Avenger. I am an original Avenger. I know about 3,000 ways to kill you in this room at this very moment with anything. I drink tea with the fucking Queen on Thursdays, and I’ve created a better orphanage/school system in 2 years than this country has in the 250 years it’s been around. Don’t you EVER call me a fucking baby again, you fucking hear me?”

By this point, she’s right up in their faces, her glare unwavering and them sweating. The silence in the room was great and seemed to go on forever. The team held their breaths, some trying not to laugh and some scared of backlash that might be trust upon the girl.

With one last eye narrow (you could blindfold her with toothpicks at this point), she whips around and walks back to Thor, placing herself sideways on his lap and relaxing into his hold. Peter passes her (Drink Order) down the table, and (Y/N) takes it.

Clint, Bucky, and Sam try and hide their laughter when the meeting starts again as they look at their long-time teammate cradled and curled up in Thor’s arms, head on his shoulder and under his chin as she sips her drink with an angry look in her eyes and a pout on her face.

All wrapped up like a baby.

#the avengers #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x fem!reader #mcu #mcu imagine #tony stark #peter #peter parker #iron man #spiderman #steve rogers #thor odinson #captain america #sam wilson #the falcon #bucky barnes #winter soldier #x reader #my mcu imagine enmy-writes