#just perfectly normal paranoia ( anonymous )

[anderwhohn]

Anonymous asked: Do you have a promo?

Technically, yes, but I don't really advertise my blogs much these days (something something social anxiety disorder something something people being weird about inactivity despite repeatedly being told I'm slow af due to being disabled something something my data drive got royally fucked recently & I lost most of my rp files that weren't backed up on a cloud)...

But if you really want to reblog it, here's the one for anderwhohn (after I had to make a quick edit to remove an outdated link, so please don't go looking for the ones for my other blogs without asking first so I can remove the outdated links from them).

#anonymous #just perfectly normal paranoia ( anonymous ) #love the whooshing noise they make as they go by ( random asks ) #long dark teatime of the soul ( ooc replies )

[bet-on-me-13]

Metahumans Anonymous Pt.2

Continuing where Part 1 left off

(This is Damian Robin)

(Also I need to add one more thing about the previous part. This is an Anonymous Meeting Place, so to protect their identities even more, they wear Masks or Face Covers to try and stay hidden)

Robin was hopping across rooftops on Patrol, going through an area that he has noticed they have been accidentally avoiding, when he sees a strange light coming out from a skylight.

He wanders over and sees an average looking man shooting Fire at another man, who seems to be shooting Ice right back at him in some sort of battle. They even have technological weapons and masks.

Looking around the room more, there are potentially dozens of Metahumans battling in the room, all with small weapons and Masks. At first he thinks they are being made to battle by somebody else, like a Fighting Ring. But then, the two from before call for the others to wrap it up.

Obviously, those two are leading the others, and all of them are there of their own free will, he can tell that from their body language.

He is convinced that they are a group of Metahuman Criminals training to take over the city using their powers. He was raised in an Assassin Cult, and he inherited his dad's paranoia, so he doesn’t even consider the idea that this is completely harmless. He also just recently moved to Gotham, so he doesn’t know the real reason for the No Metas Rule, he just assumes the rumors were true that his dad didn’t like Metahumans and never brings it up.

In his eyes the only reason they could have for using their powers secretly in a warehouse at the edge of town using weapon-like machines against each other, was because they must be training. And if they are training, then they must have a reason for it.

He sees the two people that seem to be the leaders of the group. An average looking man with Fire Powers and a tall but thin man with Ice Powers.

He decides to look them up on the Bat-Computer, after Stalking them and getting a glimpse of their faces.

The Fire Guy looks like he had led a perfectly normal life, a little too normal in his opinion. He must be hiding something, this was obviously a fake profile. It was too clean. (this was actually because he didn’t want to be noticed for his powers, so he tried to keep under the radar as much as possible his whole life)

The Ice Guy was more interesting. He comes from a small town out in Illinois, and moved to Gotham for a job. His parents are registered as People of Interest in the Bat-Computer for their research into other dimensions, and they seem to lean a bit too far in the Mad side of Mad Scientists. He must be the one supplying their weapons.

There’s also some interesting reports from his hometown, a large amount of Powerful Metahuman Villains who recently stopped attacking the city and started living there peacefully. Even the Mad Scientists, who once proclaimed that they would skin the villains alive, had changed their Tune and started advocating for the Villains rehabilitation. Something was definitely up with the Ice Guy.

Robin doesn’t report this to his Father just yet. He only just recently joined the Bat-Family a few months ago, he’s still 10, and he really wants to prove himself by taking down an extremely dangerous Metahuman Villain Group by himself. Maybe his father would cement him as his one true heir then?

He decides to get creative. He can’t defeat all those villains by himself in a straight fight, and he knows picking them off one by one would put them on edge, but maybe he could...outsource their destruction.

He anonymously contacts the Rouge in the area that the Warehouse was in, and tells them that a group of Metas was going to try and take them over soon. He hopes that the villains will just kill each other, and he could pick off the leftovers. It would be two birds for the price of one, taking down both of the Villainous organizations at once and leaving him the sole victor.

The night he initiates the plan, he returns to the cave to rest for a few hours before he can go back out to deal with the leftovers.

Then Batman rushes in, yelling that they needed all hands on deck. Apparently a Civilian Assembly that he was in contact with was under attack by a Villain Organization. He and Robin rush out to help, but the closer they get, the more Robin realizes they are heading in the direction of the Metahuman Villain Group.

Did they make their move? Tonight of all nights? He had perfectly set up a situation where he could get all the credit, but now it was all going to collapse because he didn’t anticipate that they would make their move so early!

They get to the Assembly and see the two different Villain Groups battling. The Civilians must have been caught in the crossfire! He had caused this hadn’t he? (more than he knew)

He decides to take action, and defeat the biggest threats on the field. That of course, meant taking out the most powerful Metahumans in the battle. He goes for the second Leader, the one with Fire Powers, and knocks him out.

Before he can move on, one of his brothers calls out “Robin! What are you doing! Those are the civilians!”

By the time the battle is over, and the Villains have been repelled, Robin has realized what happened. The Civilian Assembly that was being attacked was the Villain Group that he had set up.

Of Course Batman would have known about the gathering of Meta-Humans in his City. He had met up with them months ago and made a deal with them to protect them in return for keeping their head down.

Thankfully nobody had been hurt to badly in the attack, and the Metas with healing powers could fix up most of the damage, but now that one Villain Organization knew about them, every single other one would know within a week. Their little slice of Heaven had been taken from them.

Danny is happy that none of their Masks were taken off or ripped, so none of the Villains will be able to see their faces, but they would need a new location if they ever decided to do in-person meetings again.

If they ever felt anywhere near "safe" again.

Basically, Damian f#cked up...

#dp x dc #Dpxdc #Dc #Dcu #Danny Phantom #Metahumans #Gotham #Metahumans in Gotham #Damian Wayne #Damien fucked up #He is his fathers son #With none of the people skills #Damien ruins the lives of many people that night #I warned you it was gonna be angsty #Damien inherited his dad's paranoia and mixed it with the Leagues paranoia #It was a dangerous mix #He needs therapy #Thankfully this Ice Guy knows somebody #Batman knew about the Metahumans Anonymous group #He genuinely cares about them so he offered his protection #Danny told him to just keep an eye on them from time to time to make sure he didn't overdo it and attract attention #Damien noticed in the wrong way #The Anonynous Group has Masks to protect their home lives #They use nicknames when doing group therapy sessions #Danny invites Jazz over sometimes but it's mostly handled by him

[compassionatereminders]

Hey Kat. Sorry for the rant but I'm so fucking angry I could explode. I just got filmed by a fucking stranger while trying to walk my dogs. It wasn't even some young kids who were filming with friends and I just got in the way, no, it was a fucking middle aged man shoving his phone square in my face. His (considerably bigger) dog was lunging for mine so I crammed my dogs in a corner and tried to get them to stop barking while he crossed the road (they're rescues and scared of everything, I'm working on it). But then instead of moving on he starts fucking filming me??? While I'm obviously struggling and he's making no effort to control his own dog??? What the actual fuck man. What's worse is that I'm disabled (not that he fucking cares about that) and have severe paranoia about being photographed/filmed etc. Tumblr is my only social media account and it's anonymous with no selfies for GOOD FUCKING REASON. And now my face is going to be on the Internet, being passed round as a fucking joke, and there's nothing I can do about it. I feel so fucking sick I'm shaking. This isn't even the first time this has happened, and it's apparently perfectly legal where I live. I'm just so, so angry rn.

That's such a terrible thing to do to anyone, and you're in your full right to be angry and hurt. It is horrifying how normalized filming strangers in public has become, because it's in no way acceptable behavior. I'm so sorry you had to experience this, and I'm sending my love!

#chat with kat #harassment tw #surveillance tw #paranoia tw #ableism tw

[patient-8]

The upset was to write everyday, but that ship had sailed for now I guess. It’s just hard to continue, where do I go on or write to make any sense and also the daily struggle I still endure. Should I jump on that and write about it? For me personal it’s hard, even anonymous, to talk about what is going on in the moment with me. I feel like I have to endure it first before I can talk about it. There’s no room or energy physically and mentally to do both at the same time. So maybe in the future you will see a pattern when I write, it maybe reflects I have some better days… We will see… It depends what part of my illness will act up. For now I feel like I’m not willing to share much, afraid that my paranoia will be triggered and somebody will read this who knows me. In my mind that makes me weak and a easier victim if they have such information. All my life I felt “under attack”, being on my guard, everyone is/was a possible threat. But the first 30 years it was perfectly normal in my mind to live like this, in this state of alertness, it was not the only thing I was convinced of… I had to endure 6 months of psychosis to come to a point I was confronted with internal conflict… My believe system developed 2 “truths”, the old truth I was convinced and could feel, but also a new rational part of me countering this and presented me another truth… Still to this day it’s hard for several reasons, re-writing essentially the old part and simultaneously confronted with how I lived the first 30 years… it’s strange, I have it harder now with the past than when I actually lived it… Brings up another series of questions about it… I just hope it will be all worth it in the end.

#mental health #mental illness #mental disorder #mentally exhausted #mentally ill #mental health awareness #writeblr #writing

[njaddictio1]

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[yandere-daydreams]

I know requests are closed but I wanted to ask before I forgot... how would our fav yandere bnha boys deal with falling for/obsessing over a famous idol who was really popular? (Maybe they have a charisma or charming quirk?) like.. they couldn’t just take someone that famous right?? Or maybe they could?

I love the whole Idol+Yandere combination, for some reason. Just imagine any Yandere trying to deal with all the inconveniences and distractions that come with such a busy career…

Midoriya Izuku:

Izuku would be your biggest fan, in every sense of the word.

He loves the attention you get, especially if it’s positive. To him, you’re someone who should be treasured, loved, adored. The more people who see you as godly, the better. So, he’ll be at every fan meet-ups, every press junket, every show, just to show you how much Izuku supports your career. Of course, you’ll see all of these gestures as sweet, just a boyfriend trying to surprise his partner by waiting in a line of teenagers for two hours or showing up backstage. And besides, who wouldn’t want a Pro-Hero as their spokesperson?

But, nothing is ever that simple. When someone dares to say something bad about you, he can’t stand it. A late-night talkshow host once had the nerve to make a joke about you tripping on stage, and by the next morning, both of his legs were broken beyond repair. Everyone should love you, and when they don’t…. he hates it, to say the least. He’ll try to make you see that, but no criticism has ever been severe enough to warrant any reaction from you.

Izuku needs you to be perfect, to stay out of public view, to only let him see the real you. Other people won’t understand your flaws, they’ll misunderstand and hurt you. This would be considerate, if he wasn’t willing to speed-up the process.

He won’t be surprised when he comes home to you curled-up on your shared bed, crying your eyes out. Instead, he’ll fake a kind smile, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his arms. You’ll whimper, while Izuku just hums, stroking your hair as comfortingly as he can manage. “Do you want to talk about it, honey?”

“There’s… there’s an article,” You’ll explain, barely believing it yourself. “Some Gossip Magazine got an anonymous tip that I’m cheating on you, and sleeping my fans, and doing all these terrible things.” You’ll have to stop, just to stop yourself from sobbing again. “I don’t know who hates me enough to say all these things, but none of it’s true. Some people believe it, though. This YouTuber’s doing a fucking investigation, whatever that means.”

“Oh,” He’ll try to sound dejected, but it won’t be convincing. You’ll be too distraught to notice, luckily. “People are terrible, (Y/n). I really tried to warn you. This was bound to happen, eventually.” With a slight tug, your face will be shoved into his shoulder, his hold on your hair tightening. “But, we’ll get through this together, alright?”

You’ll nod, and he’ll order take-out and rent a movie, distracting you from the outside world. But, you’ll learn your lesson. And you’ll hold him tighter than you normally would, that night.

You can rely on Izuku. Anyone else, however, shouldn’t have that privilege.

Bakugo Katsuki:

Let’s get one thing straight, Katsuki doesn’t give a single fuck what your job is or who you are. And this’ll stay true… for the first few months, anyway.

He’s supportive of what makes you happy. He likes to see you smiling after a show, and glowing in the light of the public’s attention. And the fact that people all over the world are obsessing over how perfect you two are for each other… well, that doesn’t exactly hurt, either.

It’s your quirk that worries him, really. It’s mental, letting other people see you as their definition of ‘beautiful’. Normally, that wouldn’t be a big deal, but Katsuki’s painfully aware that someone is going to take it too far. It eats away at him, until all he can think about is some pervert breaking-in while he isn’t home and… he really doesn’t like where is mind goes next.  By the time you realize what’s happening, every door in your house will have a dozen locks on it.

But, in his defense, he’ll try to talk to you about his ever-growing paranoia.

He’ll pull you into his side, letting you relax. You two are on the way home from an interview, after all. You deserve to take a break. Your chauffeur is blocked off by a sound-proof divider, something Katsuki had insisted on. “Have you thought about getting away, for a while? A friend f mine has this place that’s secluded as hell. You’d like it.”

“Baby, are you still thinking about the incident?” Your voice will be sweet, but Katuski will still flinch. A crazed fan has tried to climb through your car’s window, a few weeks prior. Katsuki was thankful another Hero had shown up in time to help you, even if it meant he never got the chance to hospitalize the motherfucker. “We’ve got bullet-proof glass, now. And bodyguards, too. I’m perfectly safe.”

“I know, but…” He’ll sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. “What if you’re not? I don’t want either of us getting careless. Something could happen, and then I’d have to fucking live with myself.”

You’ll let out a low whistle, still trying to lighten the mod. But, when Katsuki doesn’t seem to back down, you’ll relent. “Fine, after I finish this album. I’ll tell my manager it’s for my ‘creative process’, or something like that.”

Katsuki finally smiles, silently pulling you closer and peppering your neck with short, grateful kisses. He already has something lined-up; a cabin in the mountains, one within driving distance from the city. There wouldn’t be any forms, or train tickets, or witnesses, or anyone but you and him. And if you know what’s best for you, you won’t argue when he tells admits that you’re not coming back.

Todoroki Shoto:

Now, Shoto is the only one who won’t even try to have a normal relationship with you. Hell, you won’t even know he’s interested until you’re in the trunk of his car.

Shoto doesn’t escalate, or ‘find out’ he’s obsessed with you. From the moment he hears your voice, sees how stunning you can be, he’s in love. And when he sees how popular you are… he doesn’t exactly take the news well. He wants you to be his, no one else can appreciate you the way he does. No one else deserves you.

So, he’ll keep his distance for as long as he can, buying his time and pretending he’s never heard of you. Shoto will bribe your bodyguards, installing his own ‘security cameras’, and making-up excuses to escort you places or attend your shows. When he can’t stand it anymore, he’ll tell you there’s an active-villain threat in the area. They’re planning on kidnapping you while you’re on tour, and he’s been asked to keep you safe. I mean, he’s still a Pro-Hero. If he says you’re in danger, you’ll believe him. The fact that he seems to just think of this as ‘saving another civilian’ helps, in a passive way.

And you’ll be so thankful for his protection, for such an important man taking time out of his schedule just to make sure nothing happens to you. It would only be polite for you to invite him back to your penthouse (under the condition that no one knows. To avoid a scandal, of course), just to spend the night, so he won’t have to pay for a hotel. Shoto will pretend to be reluctant, but really, he’ll just take this as yet another sign that you’re as desperate to be with him as he is to be with you.

Shoto will be so careful… he’ll wait so patiently for you to take a shower and let your guard down, totally unaware that he’s trailing only a few seconds behind you. Once your comfortable, too wrapped up in whatever you’re doing, he’ll come up being you, arms wrapping around your waist as he attempts to kiss away your tension. He won’t even cover your mouth when you scream. To be fair, he doesn’t have to. He knows your walls are sound-proof.

“You’re so beautiful…” He’ll mumble, more for himself than for you. “I should wait until we get home, but this won’t hurt, right? I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself.”

“Todoroki-” You’ll have to grit your teeth, driving your own nails into your palm when he bites down on your shoulder. Your voice will be shaking, but if Shoto minds, he won’t show it. “My neighbors will hear, they’ll call the police.” He won’t respond, his arm trailing further up your chest. You’ll try again, more frantically, this time. “Please, don’t do this. I’ll… I’ll never be able to forgive you.”

Shoto just laughs, brushing the hair out of your face. He’s still behind you, but that’ll only make things worse. You’ll be able to feel his steady, calm heartbeat, along with every single breath he takes. “I know, angel. But, I don’t think you’ll have a choice.”

He wants you, and that’s all that matters. He doesn’t care that you’re famous, or that people will look for you, or that you don’t want any part of this. Essentially, nothing changes. If anything, seeing other people adore you will only fuel his obsession more.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere scenerio #yandere headcanons #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia imagines #my hero academia imagines #yandere my hero academia #yandere my hero academia imagines #yandere katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #yandere bakugo #yandere shoto #shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #yandere todoroki #izuku x reader #yandere izuku #midoriya x reader #yandere midoriya #yandere deku #deku x reader

[wizardwisenmore]

First Aid Gives Rodimus Hell

@alyonian a fic based on those posts about thunderclash asking first aid to write fanfiction for him

i put the final touches on this at like 4am so it might be a bit wonky, will look at it with a more awake mind later

The purple datapad that goes with First Aid everywhere is, supposedly, a personal journal for keeping track of schedules and random ideas to look at later. Which, in fact, isn’t completely incorrect but those schedules happen to be for in-person or online meetings with his clients and those little ideas he writes are for said clients. Well, now, “client” sounds a bit risque but what he’s doing is perfectly legitimate in First Aid’s opinion. He ignores the several helpful reminders from Ambulon that he writes literal porn sometimes, some of it far raunchier than one would initially think the medibot capable of. Hey, all that built up tension daydreaming about the Wreckers had to go somewhere right? So, whenever Ambulon does feel like reminding him, First Aid just in turn reminds of that nice, new, adjustable, and expensive berth he was able to buy him because of his “smutty money” which tends to shut him up pretty fast. First Aid is a bit loathe to admit how bad his far more, ahem, specialized stories are even to Ambulon. He supposes his willingness to write these kinds of stories is what got him his four regulars as well as his latest request from an anonymous individual that- Okay, no, First Aid knows exactly who it is. It’s so painfully obvious but he just doesn’t have the heart to tell Thunderclash that he knows it’s him. That big, soft-hearted lug is just so hopeless when it comes to hiding his identity, just, Primus, First Aid is having a field day with this one. The names of the main characters alone are enough to practically shout that his latest client is none other than the Greatest Autobot of All Time.

The content that’s been requested is more of a surprise than the fact that Thunderclash of all bots is commissioning a personalized story (fantasy) from him. He’s requested a story with two bots the heroic Lightningclash and the charming, beautiful, charismatic, kind, (the list goes on) Radius who find themselves (gasp) stuck on a planet alone together with no immediate way of contacting their ship. Lightningclash and Radius are then put through several perilous situations in which they save each other thus becoming closer and better people through their shared experiences (First Aid had rolled his optics at the cheesiness of it all but this is Thunderclash after all and he’s paying very well so, who cares?). While these initial interactions started out innocent enough, Thunderclash had become a bit bolder and requested a particularly saucy scene that takes place in a cave full of bioluminescent plants. First Aid doesn’t know if he should be ashamed or proud that he only hesitated for a split second before agreeing to write self-insert smut for Thunderclash with Rodimus or “Radius” as he’s being called in this specific rendition. He only hopes he can manage to write it without making it too obvious he knows and still be able to look Rodimus in the eye.

Ambulon shakes his head as First Aid taps the send button that makes a characteristic “woosh” sound as Thunderclash’ smut gets sent away to be consumed by the poor pining bot. He tries not to let it weigh too heavily on his mind as he goes about his work and even almost forgets about it entirely until Ambulon speaks up.

“Hey, First Aid?” Ambulon says over his shoulder while studying a datapad.

“Yeah?” First Aid looks over to him, medkit in hand.

“It’s a good thing that account of yours is anonymous,” Ambulon pulls a pained smirk and flips his datapad over to reveal the screen to First Aid, “because you just sent your smut to the entirety of the Lost Light.”

First Aid is definitely proud to say he didn’t faint then and there.

Thunderclash is just relaxing in his habsuite when a message pings in on his hud and he see that the story he requested from “NotaPrime” has been completed and opens it with no small amount of excitement. Another glance at the message has him frowning though. It seems that for some reason the message was sent to all of the Lost Light for whatever reason. Thunderclash worries for a moment that something might be up but puts it off for the time being in favor of his commissioned piece. A part of him cringes as he begins to read, the part of him that tells him that indulging in his fantasies this way is unhealthy and even creepy. If he was honest with himself he knows that this is just because he knows he could never be with someone like Rodimus, especially not when it seems as though he’s done something to upset the mech. All of that is forgotten, however, when he lands upon the scene where Lightningclash and Radius take shelter in a cave and things heat up.

His immediate reaction is damage control. He’s automatically sending Thunderclash an apology while rushing to call in a favor with Perceptor to delete the story from everyone’s accounts. The questions that surely will come with it he can handle, exposing himself to Perceptor is a small price to pay to maintain some semblance of dignity in the eyes of the rest of the crew. Anyone who reads it will know just who the smut is about. At this point it’s just a matter of beating the clock, a thought that urges him on, running through the halls ignoring anyone who tries to wave him down. Thankfully most people just get out of his way. Ah, the perks of being a medical officer. As he turns one corner just before the labs he spots Nautica looking over a datapad, giggling. He’s just about to put it off as paranoia until-

“Pfft, Lightningclash? Really?” Nautica chuckles as she consumes the little surprise gift that popped up in her messages.

First Aid doesn’t think he’s run this fast since before the war was over. Ragged and panicky, he makes it to the lab door just as a message pings in from Thunderclash’s anonymous account. It’s enough to make First Aid freeze in confusion and complete astonishment. The message reads:

“Oh! Yes, I saw that! But no worries! I was a little confused and concerned at first but you’re explanation clears that right up. I don’t mind other people seeing my commission. I’m sure nothing bad will come of it. Thank you for clearing that up and for the story. What I’ve read so far is wonderful!

-sent from Thorguy”

First Aid feels a crawling beneath his plates as if his circuits were doing a low-level defrag  as he just stares at the door panel to the lab. Did he think he’d feel regret? Did he really think that flamboyant , energetic Thunderclash would feel shame? Apparently First Aid didn’t know him at all. Well, he did commission blatant and explicit porn so, perhaps First Aid underestimated the durability of his pride. These thoughts flicker through his processor until one very key factor filters through the calming thoughts. Thunderclash doesn’t know First Aid knows it’s him or how he knows it’s him. Thunderclash thinks he’s secure. Thunderclash thinks no one will know who the story is about.

“That idiot,” First Aid rests his helm against the lab door.

The door panel slides open to reveal a very confused Brainstorm with various pieces of tech bundled in his arms making First Aid jump back, startling him out of his dark reverie. Tension bounces between the two mechs both trying to decide what to say.

“Uh, I was picking up some spare parts from Percy,” Brainstorm jostles the odd bits and ends as an indication of what he’s referring to.

“Right, yeah, sure,” First Aid backs up to let him pass, “I just, uh, was hoping to ask Perceptor for a favor.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure something’s wrong with my spam filter. I’ve tried everything but I just can’t set it up properly.”

“Oh, right, mundane stuff. Yeah, more his thing.”

They fumble a little as Brainstorm makes his leave and First Aid walks into Perceptor’s lab, exventing heavily after all the stress begins to ebb away. When he takes a look around the lab the dimness and slight mess strikes First Aid as a little unusual for the normally tidy scientist. When he spots Perceptor he can’t help but feel a little concerned at how tired he looks with his shoulders sagging as he leans back up against a counter and his fully exposed optics shuttering lazily every so often. First Aid makes his way to Perceptor’s side startling the bedraggled microscope and begins to do an impromptu preliminary check up.

“Ah, First Aid, wh- what can I help you with?” Perceptor manages to say after getting over his initial shock.

“First, you can tell me what you were doing that taxed your systems this much,” First Aid remarks, shaking his head at the results of his scan.

“Brainstorm and I pulled an all-nighter and I neglected to refuel,” Perceptor looks away in shame.

“You know that’s not good for you but even if you did that that still wouldn’t have been enough to make you this tired.”

“Yes, well, it was a long night.”

“It certainly must have been.”

Perceptor doesn’t say anything while keeping his optics anywhere but towards First Aid only succeeding in making the beginnings of serious worry bubble up in the medibot.

“Perceptor, be honest with me,” First Aid levels himself so that he’s face-to-face with Perceptor, “What’s going on with you and Brainstorm?”

The effect of that statement is instant and Perceptor struggles to find his voice in an awkward cluster of broken syllables. Eventually he gives up and exvents.

“I probably should have gone to see you about it earlier. I noticed that it wore me out quite a bit before but didn’t feel it was anything to worry about. This particular bout was especially tiring though. I try to reassure Brainstorm but it’s gotten to a point where I think I can’t just blow it off as nothing anymore,” Perceptor seems to have gathered himself more, managing to explain himself more thoroughly and honestly.

“Wait, so you mean…”

“Brainstorm and I have initiated an intimate and sexual relationship. Our sessions together leave me lethargic and I often have to recharge for a longer period in order to make up for it.”

“Oh!” First Aid brightens and begins a more thorough check of his systems, paying close attention to the power systems linked up with his interfacing array.

“Is everything alright?”

“Everything seems to check out. I don’t understand why you would be experiencing such heavy energy withdrawal.”

“Then why…?”

“Uh, this may seem a bit intrusive…”

“No, it’s alright.”

“How are your sessions normally? Is there anything you can think of that may relate to this?”

“Well,” Perceptor retracts into himself again, “Brainstorm is rather energetic. He never seems to get tired.”

“So you try to keep up with him,” First Aid sighs and shakes his head, “You shouldn’t push yourself like that. That or you should allow yourself more breaks. If you don’t tell him you’re wearing down he won’t be able to take that into consideration.”

Perceptor holds his face in his hands and nods.

“If you want Rung-”

“No,” Perceptor looks up, “I can take care of this. Thank you, I had wondered after all and you provided an answer. I should have realized…”

“Well, I can understand with a good partner it can be easy to get carried away,” First Aid relishes the bashful side of Perceptor he’s seeing now, “You should get some rest now to make up for you latest ‘session’ though.”

After a brief episode of mortification, Perceptor returns the light levels of his lab to normal and buts is monocle back on. He looks for all the world that he hadn’t just been absolutely ravished by his lab partner just minutes ago. The weight of his exhaustion still lingers but he looks more like his professional self.

“So,” Perceptor clears his intake, “did you need something.”

Everything he’d meant to talk to Perceptor about suddenly rushes back to First Aid making him feel a bit dizzy. All that had transpired just pours out of First Aid and Perceptor patiently listens to him then pulls out a datapad before First Aid is finished. At the end of the panicked explanation, First Aid watches Perceptor as he hums thoughtfully over the screen revealing the activity history of the accounts of the Lost Light Crew. First Aid begins to fidget as more and more time passes with Perceptor just analyzing the datapad.

“I have good news and I have bad news,” Perceptor finally tears his attention from the pad.

“Bad news first.”

“It seems as though that not only have many of the crew members opened the email but have actually taken the time to read it.”

First Aid slumps at this new information, “And the good news?”

“It seems as though Rodimus has yet to open the message.”

“Thank goodness for his lack of work ethic but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t found out about it.”

“Doesn’t mean he has either.”

In another part of the ship Drift sees a strange message appear on his hud and he opens it to find fanfiction that is very thinly disguised Thunderclash and Rodimus slash fic. As he reads it he has to take several breaks to laugh for a good minute and when he reaches the scene with the cave he chokes on air which causes Ratchet to find him in the middle of a coughing fit.

“Drift, are you alright?” Ratchet comes over, concern written on his face.

Drift nods and when his coughing finally dies down he says, “Yeah, just got to point in this story that really caught me off guard.”

“What story?” Ratchet looks at the datapad Drift is holding.

“It looks like someone has written a piece with our captain and Thunderclash having an adventure together,” Drift turns the datapad so Ratchet can see it better.

“Who would want to read something like that?” Ratchet looks over the story some more, “Rodimus doesn’t even like the guy.”

“I don’t know,” Drift shakes his helm, “but whoever wrote this is one kinky bastard.”

First Aid rests his helm against a desk, slumped over in a chair thinking about how he can handle this situation. His break down of it essentially comes down to Thunderclash not knowing he’s the author, the story is obviously about him and Rodimus but it can’t be immediately traced back to Thunderclash, and so long as Rodimus remains oblivious things shouldn’t get out of hand.

“First Aid,” Perceptor leans against the desk he’s sulking on, “I take it that it would be an issue for Rodimus to find out and not Thunderclash is because Thunderclash is your commissioner.”

“Yup.”

“I would have never suspected him having feelings for Rodimus if it weren’t for this slip up. However, with this realization and further reflection I can recall several occasions that are now painfully obvious as acts of endearment on Thunderclash’s part.”

“Right? If you have the time you should actually read the story. All his little requests and the details he leans on make it all the more obvious just how hopeless he is,” First Aid leans back to stare blankly at the ceiling.

“Then perhaps this is a blessing in disguise,” Perceptor puts his chin in his hand and First Aid looks at him as though he installed a second head, “I know that sounds a little ridiculous but think about it. Thunderclash clearly wants to express his feelings to Rodimus but Rodimus has put up not-so-subtle barriers that prevent that from happening. If manipulated in the right way it could ease the situation and make it possible for Thunderclash to overcome those barriers and/or encourage Rodimus to tear them down all together.”

“You want me to hook up Thunderclash and Rodimus with smutty fanfiction.”

“Don’t you?” Perceptor leaves First Aid alone to contemplate that after stating that he feels the need to have that conversation with Brainstorm sooner rather than later.

First Aid winds up going back to the medbay to an annoyed Ratchet and inquisitive Ambulon who are both very interested in what he was up to. He waves them off claiming he’s had a very long morning and will tell them about it later. Ratchet huffs, clearly agitated but lets it drop, however, Ambulon doesn’t let go so easily and is only satisfied when First Aid pulls him aside to explain it had been too late by the time he and Perceptor got to assessing the damage.

“The entire crew has read it?!” Ambulon stumbles a bit in his surprise and nearly drops his tools.

“Most of the crew has read it,” First Aid clarifies, exasperated, “Rodimus, thankfully isn’t really in the habit of checking his messages.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“I am very grateful for it. Can you imagine what he’d do if he found out?”

“When he finds out.”

“Right… yeah…”

They continue working like they aren’t waiting for the inevitable shitstorm that’s brewing on the horizon. First AId rests in a state of emotional lapse now having his panic forcibly ripped from him in the wake of Thunderclash’s response and Perceptor’s view on the matter at hand. He mulls in the space between screaming endlessly into the void and the vast hollowness that can only come from making a mistake as bad as the sheer hell that First Aid has unleashed. Humming along to the panicked rhythm that begins to rise within him almost has Ratchet coming over to ask him if he’s alright.  Through his new bout of nerves the start of a plan forms which eases some of his distress and what Perceptor said inspires him to take advantage of this disaster. He could get Rodimus to at least acknowledge his unfair distaste for Thunderclash, maybe even convince him it is unfair. Then a devious thought crosses his mind that brings him out of his self-sentenced personal hell by realizing how much chaos he could actually cause. Forget pride and reputation for that has been all but lost, while he has a stylus in his hand he can write the world into a frenzy and make all good-hearted souls wheep. He will bring about a reckoning that will lead the crew into madness and he will delight in the absurdity of it all instead of letting it sweep him away. This is probably not what Perceptor had in mind but any semblance of a calm and rational take on this has already been thrown out of the airlock. He has the power, he shall see that big goofball get his mech even if it gets him kicked off this ship.

“Aid?” Ambulon turns to him, a sudden thought striking him, “Did Megatron read it?”

“...slag.”

Megatron had just gone through his normal morning routine when the surprise message popped up, the contents of which surprised and appalled him. Anyone willing to go into that much detail on Rodimus’s spike or “Radius’s”rather is a depraved individual the likes of which he has only known during the war among certain circles of the Decepticons. He had powered through mostly due to immense boredom and sheer morbid curiosity. The reasoning for sending it to the entire crew puzzled him for if it was meant to be a prank it wasn’t very well executed for anyone who knew Rodimus for even a day would know he doesn’t check his messages. So, that means it had to have been a mistake and this thing about a “commission” detailed at the beginning would mean that not only was it a mistake but a very severe one. Megatron finds himself pitying whoever the writer was. In his opinion the story is solid if a little off in the dialogue and the plot is engaging making it one of the better things he’s read on this ship in the past few years. He just can’t fathom why anyone would want such a story enough to pay for it unless…

“Oh dear.”

“What is it?” Ultra Magnus who had been going over the daily reports turns to Megatron.

“I think that Thunderclash might be enamored with our captain,” Megatron muses.

“What? What makes you say that?” Ultra Magnus lowers his his servos from his work putting his full attention on Megatron.

“Have you received that strange message with a story attached to it? I think it was probably commissioned by Thunderclash.”

“It… that would make sense,” Ultra Magnus looks off in thought, “That poor mech.”

“Indeed.”

It doesn’t take too long for the entire ship to become all abuzz with the fanfiction which means everyone in Swerve’s is talking about it. Tailgate is chatting excitedly with Swerve and Rewind who nod along to his rapid-fire analysis of the story. Nautica seems to be just as enthused by the epic of Lightningclash and Radius while also having recruited Brainstorm to hold Nightbeat back from telling Rodimus what’s going on and explaining the entire mishap. First Aid is pretty sure he also knows that he wrote it but has been kind enough not to tell anyone. It also seems as though everyone has silently agreed not to tell Thunderclash that they know the story is about him and those few that suspect him as the mysterious commissioner have neglected to say anything as well. First Aid couldn’t have dreamed of a better reaction than this. He mentally gives himself a pat on the back as he looks around the bar and Ambulon rolls his optics, undoubtedly noticing his fellow medibot’s smugness. First Aid ignores him in favor of watching a happy Thunderclash excitedly going over a particularly dramatic scene where Lightningclash is being tended to by a distraught Radius with a particularly patient Perceptor who looks equally endeared and distressed.

“This line here ‘With Thunderclash’s helm in his servos and those dimly glowing red optics looking softly and lovingly up at him, Radius knew that no one else would go further or fight harder for him than his Lightningclash.’ Don’t you think that it just so wonderfully expresses the building undefined something between Lightningclash and Radius?” Thunderclash reads from a datapad and emits a dreamy sigh.

Perceptor takes a moment to steady himself before calmly turning to Thunderclash, “It is a solidly written line that clearly portrays Radius’s revelation. I think it’s the definite turning point in their relationship.”

First Aid stifles maniacal laughter as he watches Perceptor flub through a very detailed in-depth reading of the story and swears he can see Perceptor’s life force slowly leave his body. Ambulon gives him a look that lets him know that he’s enjoying this far too much but he can’t find it within himself to care. He’s sure that sooner rather than later he’ll have to face the consequences for his actions so he’s deciding to enjoy what he can while he can. The clincher to his ever-elevating mood is a little ping that notifies him of a very enthusiastic message from Thorguy A.K.A Thunderclash A.K.A Lightningclash. He excuses himself and heads back to his habsuite because, right now, he has a story to write and this time he has explicit permission to share it with the crew so all the better really.

Okay, so, Ratchet knows now but that’s something that’s been coming for a while now because of the glimpses he’s caught on Aid’s infamous purple datapad. First Aid thinks he takes it rather well seeing as how he faces minimum yelling but, unfortunately, Ratchet does wind up outing him to the others. This only succeeds in causing a hoard of the unexpected fans to pester him about the next story and for Thunderclash to confess that he had been the one to commission the first two stories. The lack of surprise from his peers is palpable making him retreat to a table in Perceptor’s lab to contemplate his apparent lack of subtlety. First Aid notes how Ratchet isn’t disappointed by the lack of backlash and notes how he didn’t include Rodimus in this suedo-intervention, not to mention the yelling devolved into critique of his latest story, the sequel to the first one everyone’s started calling “Cave Escapades.” This exposure has brought on a new problem, though. Everyone seems to have gotten very invested in the story of Lightningclash and Radius so they’ve all really started to get on his case about the update. First Aid had hoped to make this a more gradual thing but that clearly wasn’t going to happen now. Poor Thunderclash is too mortified to ask and pay for a third story which is Aid’s only defense in the face of his crew’s inquiries so, Nautica, Nightbeat, surprisingly Whirl, and a few others all pitch in for the next one.

Ambulon is rather unsympathetic when he retells what happened and all but straight up tells him he deserves the sudden pressure.First Aid stares at a blank datapad for a solid three hours before eventually giving up and heading to Swerve’s in hopes that giving his mind a break will clear his sudden and severe writer’s block. In his latest story, Lightningclash and Radius managed to get back in contact with their ship allowing them to reunite with their crew to then go to the next galaxy over to a good planet for refueling and resupplying. They were also checking a lead that might help them find the missing ally ship that had gone dark just months ago. Now he just didn’t know where to take the story. Lightningclash’s and Radius’s interactions had all been filled with the new question “what are we?” creating a lot of tension between them that is just fit to burst but how should it be done? First Aid just doesn’t know what he should do. Thankfully, before he can get too deep into his funk a very happy Drift plops down in the booth right across from him pulling him away from his thoughts.

“So, you’re the one that wrote the best thing I’ve read in the past thousand years,” Drift chuckles as he doctors his drink slowly.

“I’m glad you like it,” First Aid huffs, “It may be awhile before you get the next part though. I just can’t seem to get myself to write.”

“Well then,” Drift gives him a smirk that can only mean he has something mischievous in mind, “would you take a request then?”

First Aid mulls over it for a moment then remembering how many people are waiting for his story decides to throw caution to the wind yet again, “Sure, what do you have in mind?”

“Well, you know, I think it’s about time that rodimus found out about these stories. So, I was thinking that it would be great that if when he reads them he got to a point where Rodimus reveals that he’s the next in line to declare the Primacy. I mean you haven’t built up a lot of lore for your stories but it’s clear it isn’t the same as our culture exactly. So, my idea is because he has to take on the Primacy he has all these responsibilities including not being able to take on anyone as his conjunx without like a ton of pomp and circumstance.”

“You mean like a really over-the-top mushy scene where Radius essentially goes ‘I love you Lightningclash but we can’t be together because I’m meant to take on the Primacy’ in the most sappy way possible,” First Aid mimics his parody Rodimus and begins to feel like he could work with this.

“Yes, that and Lightningclash as the respectable bot he is goes ‘I understand, Radius, your responsibilities come first but, I beg of you, let me be by your side always.’ just hamming it up all the way.”

“This,” First Aid leans against his interwoven servos with a wicked glint in his optics, “could work very well.”

When the message pings in Drift quickly gets up from meditating and rushes to Rodimus’s habsuite, datapad in hand looking all the world like the cybercat that got the energon. Rodimus is still in recharge after the indulgent night he had at Swerve’s and isn’t very happy when Drift roughly wakes him up to show him the datapad. Rodimus blinks slowly a few times at the datapad, not really seeing what’s on it.

“Drift, I know you’re trying to show me something but my processor hasn’t caught up with my body yet,” Rodimus lets out a yawn, “wanna just tell me what’s so important?”

“Somebody wrote a story about you!” Drift exclaims all to pleased with the situation.

Rodimus wakes up much more at that and begins to read over the stories while Drift watches in delighted anticipation. The faces the captain makes are extremely varied and rapid in their transitions. Drift bursts out laughing at a particularly disgusted expression Rodimus makes when he probably reaches the cave scene that he admirably pushes through to read the rest of it. Then he gets to the third chapter and groans once he gets to the big confession.

“What the hell is this?” Rodimus asks, his words muffled by the servos covering his face.

“It’s clearly other you with other Thunderclash having the time of your lives,” Drift teases and Rodimus gives him a look.

“This is the worst thing I’ve read, ever,” Rodimus grumbles, “You really woke me up for this? It’s not even worth the data storage.”

“Well I think it’s fun,” Drift says earning another look of disgust from his amica.

“This can’t continue like this.”

“Well what do you want to do about it then?”

“I don’t know!” Rodimus throws his servos in the air exasperated, “I wish this story just didn’t exist! That would be much better.”

“If you’re really so upset with it, why not just change it?” Drift offers calming Rodimus down somewhat.

“What do you mean?”

“This story was commissioned right? Well what if you commissioned this author to write the story how you want it to go?”

“It’s not worth the shanix,” Rodimus waves off the idea easily and slides off his berth to get ready for the day.

“I’ll pay for it then,” Drift shrugs when Rodimus shoots him a surprised look, “I think it would be fun.”

“How many people have read this again?”

The result is almost instant when First Aid sends off the next part of what is slowly becoming a series. Messages filter back with praise and statements of varying degrees of incredulousness. Now, as much as he’s enjoying all of this, he would have backed off had Thunderclash asked him to and even hesitated somewhat but the short message from the bot that started it all clears away his worry. Thunderclash sent him a very short but clear show of approval of his latest and most melodramatic installment. Ambulon groans once he gets to the big confession as Ratchet bends over steadying himself on a medical berth, immobilized by laughter. Seeing as how not much more work was going to get done he decides to go see how everyone is reacting to the story in person. He’s rewarded with a Nautica who’s absolutely glued to her datapad, an attentive Perceptor who gives a few good suggestions, and Tailgate along with Rewind listening to Chromedome give an excellent dramatic reading that Rewind is undoubtedly recording. The icing on the cake is when he stumbles on to the bridge to find a distraught Rodimus.

“Who the hell wrote this?!” Rodimus gestures widely to the datapad in his servo as though it just insulted him.

“I don’t know, Rodimus,” Megatron sighs, “but clearly it’s just in good fun. They don’t seem like they mean to slander you.”

“What do you mean? It’s clearly slander! They’ve paired me up with Thunderclash!” Rodimus shouts, fuming at the lack of sympathy.

“An excellent member of Autobot society,” Ultra Magnus adds helpfully without looking up from his work.

“They make me the damsel in distress!”

“Sometimes they make Thunderclash the damsel,” Megatron points out making Rodimus scoff.

“They make us frag in a cave!”

“I admit that might have been a bit much but they do an excellent job of portraying proper consent and communication between partners,” Ultra Magnus concedes.

Rodimus growls in frustration before storming off of the bridge undoubtedly to take it out on First Aid if unknowingly so. Sure enough, a little while later a message appears on his hud to his not-so-anonymous-anymore account from Rodimus describing just how much he hates the story. However, Aid is surprised to find that Rodimus, instead of demanding an end to the series, is paying for his own continuation of the story “to set the record straight” and First Aid obliges him. Of course, he doesn’t it’ll have the effect Rodimus desires but that’s mostly just because he knows he’s gonna spin it in another direction. Ah, the beauty of interpretation. Rodimus want him to write a continuation where Lightningclash messes up terribly so that Radius becomes enraged with him, so much so that he stops talking to Lightningclash with no hint of possibly letting up. First Aid decides he’ll humor Rodimus for now and leave Lightningclash and Radius’s issue unsolved at the end which just so happens to create a cliffhanger. First Aid leans back in his chair and looks at his handy work, satisfied with it, and sends it off before heading off to his berth to recharge. His intention is to feed Rodimus’s need for there to be conflict between the two characters to then have said characters to resolve it in the next chapter which will undoubtedly frustrate his captain but maybe also give him a hint. Besides, how was Lightningclash supposed to know that one of the reasons Radius left Cybertron to explore the stars was to escape the heavy weight of responsibility that the Primacy put on him? With a sigh and aching servos, First Aid drifts into recharge.

When First Aid heads to the medbay he can’t help but feel as though something’s off. He doesn’t have too much time to ponder it since Ambulon all but drags him into the medbay and locks the door behind them. Okay, that wasn’t a good sign. Ratchet’s giving him a look that tells him he’s definitely messed up.

“What did you do?!” Ambulon hisses regaining Aid’s attention.

“What? I don’t know. What’s happened?” First Aid is definitely starting to panic now.

“Your fans are in an uproar over the latest chapter of that terrible fanfiction of yours,” Ratchet informs him busying himself with prepping the medbay as though he was expecting a lot of injured bots to come flooding in at any moment.

“What? How bad?”

“Bad enough that Whirl started a bar fight with Cyclonus of all people over whether or not Lightningclash and Radius are going to ever get together. They’ve both been put into the brig and thankfully didn’t injure each other too badly but this is getting ridiculous.”

“I’ll say,” First Aid nods weakly, “That old romantic really let it get away from him. I bet he was defending Lightningclash’s and Radius’s durability all the way.”

“Yes, it’s all very sweet,” Ratchet gralfs, “What you need to do now is sit down and write so we can fix this mess before it gets any worse. I’ll even pay for it if I have to.”

“That won’t be necessary. This one’s on the house,” First Aid snags a datapad and begins writing like faster than he ever has before.

Apparently the impending doom via complete crew meltdown is a very good motivator seeing as he’s able to pump out a complete chapter in a record time of three hours. First Aid collapses on a berth completely drained from the frantic writing and hopes that it will clear everything up. Within those three hours, Nautica and Perceptor (for some reason) were brought in beaten up and ragged. Ratchet is still patching up the last of Perceptor’s abrasions when First Aid sends out the chapter making both patients leap for their datapads. Blissful calm settles over the medbay as the mechs devour the the story. Watching Ratchet read the story just as avidly as the rest of them, First Aid feels a little cheated for being guilted into making the latest chapter for free but he’ll get that old bastard back for it. He might even add in a weary old medic called “Hatchet” that’s hopelessly helm over pedes for a certain swordsmech called… He’ll think of a good name later.

“Yes!” Nautica cries out in glee and falls back on to the berth she’s taken residency on startling First Aid out of his half-awake state.

“I’m guessing that means you find the latest chapter acceptable?” First Aid says while still lying down.

“Very! Oh, just how Lightningclash takes Radius into his arms and pushes away any doubts that he sees him as a capable and beautiful mech. Radius struggling with himself as to whether to give in and abandon his responsibilities or remain the next prime but the Lightningclash insists he should be true to himself and not abandon his destiny! It’s perfect!”

“I quite agree,” Perceptor gives him a weary but emphatic nod.

“Good maybe this’ll settle things.”

“Don’t bet on it,” Ratchet scoffs, “You’ve just given them all another taste and still no resolution. At this rate you’ll be at this for a while.”

“That’s true,” Ambulon puts a servo on First Aid’s shoulder, “If you want this to end you have to conclude the story.”

“I can’t just yet,” First Aid puts a servo over Ambulon’s, “This is supposed to mediate Thunderclash’s inevitable confession to Rodimus.”

“That’s what all of this is about?!” Ratchet gapes at his downed colleague.

“I think that’s wonderful! Do you need any help?” Nautica leaps up energy fully restored.

“Perceptor, tell me you at least don’t approve of this,” Ratchet turns to the person that has become his only hope.

“Do you really want First Aid to stop?” Perceptor retorts making Ratchet fumble searching for the right words to defend himself but comes up empty.

First Aid turns to Nautica, “You know, a co-writer would actually help a lot. I don’t think I can write as fast as I need to on my own.”

“This is going to be great!” Nautica hops up and bounces with excitement.

Rodimus is fuming on the bridge now, very upset that his piece of the story had been subverted by the next chapter and has made his displeasure very well known to everyone in earshot. Thunderclash looks at him sadly, guilt weighing heavily in his spark as he looks at the damage his personal indulgence has caused. If the story has managed to do anything so far, it’s made Rodimus dislike him even more even without knowing he’s the one that commissioned the story. He makes a decision then and there that he’s going to do something to fix this mess that he’s made and hopefully get Rodimus to dislike him less.

Later on after workshopping the rest of the story, Nautica and First Aid decide having the outline all flushed out at least deserves a drink. First Aid is greeted at Swerve’s with praise and distress at how he almost severed such a beautiful, blossoming relationship. It’s clear now more than ever that he’s in it for the long haul. At the very least it seems this has alleviated some of the prevalent boredom that had been plaguing the ship. For a moment First Aid worries about what’s to come after all of this. This is, in all honesty, fun. Everyone is following the story with an intensity he didn’t know they possessed and that feeling is is so addictive that he almost  doesn’t want it to end but he knows it has to. A blatant reminder of it all needing to come to a close is Thunderclash looking very sullen heading his way. He can feel Nautica tense up beside him when she spots their source material. First Aid tries and fails to steady himself knowing he can’t avoid this interaction while fearing what is to come of it. The large bot settles carefully in the seat across from them and folds his servos on the table. Nobody moves. Nobody speaks.

“Hey Thunderclash!” Swerve breaks the tension, “Can I get you anything?”

“Uh, just mid-grade please,” whatever cool Thunderclash had is broken and the nervousness he’d been concealing earlier breaks through.

“You got it!”

After Swerve leaves to get Thunderclash’s drink he can’t seem to meet First Aid’s or Nautica’s optics.

“What do you need, ‘Clash?” First Aid tries to ease the situation.

“I, uh,” Thunderclash clears his intake, “I’d to um… Okay, so, Rodimus is clearly unhappy about this story. He seemed especially unhappy when the next piece after that fiasco was released. He seemed happier when our parodies were fighting. I had no idea that he disliked me that much.”

First Aid feels his spark ache a little at that last statement knowing all too well what Rodimus might have had to say about it.

“So, what do you need me to do?”

“I feel that this may not be the last issue that he forces our other selves to face. I think -indirectly- Rodimus showed something he’s very self-conscious of. It’s likely he will do so again.”

“You mean you think Rodimus was projecting his insecurities of technically never being a true prime on to Radius and he might do more requests that reveal things like that,” Nautica jumps in excitedly.

“Uh, that’s a bit harsher than I would put it but yes.”

“So,” First Aid puts a hand on Nautica’s shoulder to get her to sit back down again, “What do you want to do about that?”

“I’d like all of Lightningclash’s words to be my own from now on. I want to reassure Rodimus myself.”

First Aid’s spark grows warm at that. He just cannot handle how in love this poor mech is with “flaming ego,” Rodimus Prime out of everyone he could have given his spark to. Boy, if that didn’t just make him want to redouble his efforts.

“Radius!” the faint murmurs of conversation suddenly die down as Riptide shouts out in the middle of the bar while clasping Drift’s servo with a datapad in his other servo, “Please don’t misunderstand my formality as being a joke or in spite. I could never see you as anything other than a mech that deserves the world, the universe!”

“Just because you know I’m supposed to be prime now doesn’t mean you should treat me like some bauble on display,” Drift gives his best Rodimus impression but First Aid silently admits that his word choice probably wasn’t the most Rodimus-like, “I’m still Radius! I’m still the bot you called a friend! I’m still the bot that got overcharged and lost his credits to you on Hedonia! I’m still me!”

“I know you are!”

“Then why are you putting up this air of formality? Why are you treating me like a thing and not a person?”

“I can’t be with you, Radius,” Riptide recites in a hushed voice that has the audience of their impromptu performance gasping, “No matter how much I long to be with you, your position is too high for me to reach. I must steel my spark in the face of it. I must respect our traditions but I wish to remain useful to you. In order to do so I’ve had to put a barrier between myself and you. I am sorry. Please, don’t push me away.”

Drift A.K.A “Radius” looks down at Riptide A.K.A “Lightningclash” with a surprisingly convincing sad look in his optics.

“Then be my friend, Lightningclash,” “Radius” says, “because my spark won’t survive losing you.”

With the close, Riptide and Drift bow to the roaring crowd among which is even an amused Megatron. Rodimus sits in stunned silence as Drift wanders back to their booth where Ratchet is also dying of laughter. Rodimus looks at his amica in complete and utter betrayal but doesn’t even manage to dent Drift’s smugness. Out of everything First Aid had thought would come of his writing, miniature theater was not one of them. Across from him, Thunderclash looks over at Rodimus with longing, love, and hurt shining in perfect crimson. A message pings on First Aid’s hud and he knows he has work to do.

“I can’t believe you actually did that!” Rodimus shouts as he walks down the hall with Drift and Ratchet who are both laughing at his distress.

“What? Of course I did,” Drift nudges him gently, “I knew your reaction would be priceless.”

“I think he did a terrific job imitating you,” Ratchet adds making Rodimus scoff.

“See,” Drift loops his arm with Ratchet’s, “It’s all in good fun.”

“For everyone except me,” Rodimus grumbles.

“Details,” Ratchet shrugs.

“Well hopefully this time what I do will stick.”

“Hopefully,” Drift says wistfully obvious in his insincerity.

Nautica turns out to be First Aid’s saving grace as they continue writing the Epic of Lightningclash and Radius. They take turns typing what the other one says making the process much faster and before the day is out they have a chapter ready for editing. Thunderclash sits in and helps with word choice but for the most part just politely listens in quietly. First Aid is grateful to have him there as well because he really does help with dialogue, even making Radius sound more, well, Rodimus-y. God, this mech. The way he talks about Rodimus’s little quirks and the phrases he likes to use alone almost makes First Aid feel like he’s the one falling in love with Rodimus.

“You know, I always forget about his tendency to use Earth slang,” First Aid admits after sending off the chapter to Perceptor who had volunteered to edit the thing.

“His love for Earth and its people is incredibly endearing,” Thunderclash admits and looks into the distance, a sweet smile plastered on his face, “I’d never seen him so devoted to studying a culture before. He really has become a kind of expert on it.”

“How long have you had your eye on Rodimus?” Nautica bumps her elbow gently against Thunderclash.

“I-uh,” Thunderclash stutters and looks away, flustered.

“Don’t worry,” First Aid puts a servo on Thunderclash’s, “we’ll get him for you.”

Thunderclash smiles brightly but it quickly dims with sadness, “At this point, my hope is that I can at least salvage whatever happened for him to… detest me.”

“That’s not your fault!” Nautica slams her servos on the table startling both of them, “That’s just Rodimus being a jerk.”

“I don’t think that’s necessarily true, Nautica,” Thunderclash puts up a consoling servo.

“I’m starting to think you’re right, Thunderclash. Something else is going on with him. Something he hasn’t let anyone see before,” First Aid hums and puts his helm in his servo contemplating their latest piece.

This new figure that Rodimus himself introduced into the story has been especially telling. This figure that can be none other than Optimus Prime’s doppelganger. So, Pinnamus Prime (so subtle) comes aboard the ship and pretty much takes control of everything to which the crew complies with completely because who would argue with a Prime? Lightningclash makes the mistake of agreeing with some of the current Prime’s criticisms causing tension to build yet again. When the pressure comes to a head, Radius gives a very deep confession that are the actual words of Rodimus. First Aid thinks that Rodimus didn’t realize how intense his offered bit of dialogue is, a confession of all the faults and missteps he knows are there that he feels are all people see when they look at him. He also talks about the sacrifices he’s made and the good he’s done but Pinnamus (Optimus) is just a walking reminder of what he’ll never be, Lightningclash (Thunderclash) is an example of what he could have become. It all struck First Aid a bit hard, making him realize that, perhaps, they have been a bit harsh on their captain. While childish at times and certainly impulsive, he cares about his crew and he is working on being better. Looking back on all they’ve been through, First Aid has to admit that Rodimus has actually been a rather good captain making quick decisions and being as fair as he can be. He hasn’t been a captain that would fit in during wartime but they’re not at war anymore. Oh, Primus, Rodimus had given up just as much as everyone else and then some to keep people safe, to keep the Autobots from falling. The fact that he can still smile, have fun, and then remind people they can still smile, that they still have hope is absolutely remarkable. Thunderclash is definitely starting to get to him.

The open ending they leave goes over about as well as First Aid expected which is to say not very well at all. They couldn’t think of any other way they could have done it. Thunderclash responded to Rodimus’s confession in his own words through Lightningclash then the chapter ends with him waiting for his response. The cliffhanger has everyone theorizing and arguing how it’s all going to end, the anticipation thick in the air. First Aid wades through the chaos dodging questions or giving ambiguous answers until he literally bumps into Rodimus. Before he can get too deep into his flurry of apologies a datapad is shoved into his servos. When he looks up at Rodimus he’s stunned to see his captain so serious, not angry, just serious. Without a single word, Rodimus leaves. After a moment of ogling the empty space Rodimus left behind, First Aid looks down at the proffered datapad and what he sees makes his optics flash in excitement. This would be the perfect end.

“I think this has gone on long enough,” Megatron says startling Drift who had been sharpening his swords.

“I’m sorry?”

“This entire back and forth with Rodimus and Thunderclash,” Megatron clarifies, “It needs to end.”

“I suppose we can’t tolerate too many more bar fights over something so trivial,” Drift concedes, “What do you have in mind.”

“I think Rodimus and Thunderclash need to confront each other on this matter.”

Drift looks up at ex-warlord skeptically and returns to sharpening his swords for a minute considering if what Megatron is suggesting is really a good idea. After dithering on it he turns back to the larger mech.

“Confront how?”

“I was quite inspired by your little performance the other day,” Megatron can’t hide his amusement when Drift coughs awkwardly, “I think they should read it together.”

“Oh yeah? How do you expect to get them to do that?” Drift raises an eye ridge.

“Everyone knows First Aid is the one that’s been writing this story and from what I can tell he seems quite eager to see this through. I’m sure I could convince him to help out.”

“Okay, what does that have to do with me?” Drift leans back looking up at Megatron.

“Your his amica, he spends time with you normally,” Megatron gestures nonchalantly, “Just make it so he’s in Swerve’s tomorrow evening.”

Drift looks him over for a moment but seemingly having made a decision just gives him a nod and goes back to his swords. Satisfied by this, Megatron leaves him be.

A very confused Thunderclash speeds along as he’s dragged down the hall to greet an equally baffled Nautica who gets the datapad First Aid had been given shoved into her servos. He then deposits Thunderclash into a chair, actually lifting the mech and seating him, surprising the poor mech with his hidden strength before sitting down to start writing. Nautica scans the datapad in record time and joins First Aid, newly invigorated. Thunderclash looks on with concern as they whisper over their datapad.

“Is everything alright?” Thunderclash breaks through the ominus haze.

First Aid and Nautica look back at him, smiling with  wicked glints in theri optics.

“Perfect,” Nautica answers, her voice heavy with incredible, almost sadistic joy.

“How would you respond to something like, ‘Do I matter to you?’ from Rodimus?” First Aid asks, avoiding Thunderclash’s question.

“I’d tell him he means everything to me,” Thunderclash answers bashfully, “that…  I’ll always be here for him.”

“Excellent, thank you,” with that First Aid goes back to writing with Nautica.

They continue like that for the remainder of the day, only asking Thunderclash seemingly random questions while not letting him read anything they’re writing. The pattern is eventually broken when the door panel slides open to reveal Megatron. For a moment they all just openly stare at each other until Megatron let’s himself in.

“I have a request,” Megatron breaks the silence and Nautica unabashedly gapes at him.

“Yeah?” First Aid’s voice breaks a little as he addresses the ex-warlord.

“This time when you release the story, only release it to Rodimus and Thunderclash at first,” Megatron says and sits down.

“Why?” Nautica crosses her arms, skeptical of Megatron’s plan.

“I think another reading of your story in Swerve’s is just what the crew needs,” Megatron says offhandedly, “except this time I think it should be done by your muses.”

“What?!” Thunderclash leaps up, “No, I can’t… Rodimus would surely… How would you even convince him to do that?”

“I don’t need to,” Megatron shrugs, “Drift will have him there tomorrow in the afternoon. The rest would have to be up to you.”

“Still-”

“I like that idea,” First Aid interrupts Thunderclash before he can go on a tirade.

“So do I,” Nautica smirks and pats Thunderclash on the shoulder, “It’s okay. You’re going to be great.”

Thunderclash looks helplessly around at the bots that seem very menacing now that plans for his grand performance were made.

Time flashes by and before he knew it, Thunderclash is being dragged once again by First Aid into Swerve’s where Rodimus sits drinking with Drift looking rather glum. Thunderclash’s spark aches as he sees his- as he sees Rodimus look so out of sorts because of him. In his moment of distraction he hadn’t First Aid bring him to the center of the bar and put a datpad in his servo. Looking back up from the datapad his tank drops as he sees Nautica quietly talking to Rodimus who nods at whatever she says to him and comes over to Thunderclash, arms crossed and body tensed while not meeting Thunderclash’s optics. Thunderclash’s intake goes dry and he can’t seem to just say something, anything. Then First Aid swoops in and gives Rodimus a datapad that he takes and scowls at it after reading the first few lines.

“Really?” Rodimus sighs, “This is what we’re doing?”

“So it would seem,” Thunderclash nods weakly.

“Might as well get this over with,” Rodimus rolls his optics, “I know Drift won’t let me back down from this.”

“You really don’t have to-”

“Save it,” Rodimus bites out, then turns his attention to the datapad, “Lightningclash, I don’t believe you, I can’t believe you. What you’re saying… I don’t believe you.”

Thunderclash looks down for his lines and with more feeling than Rodimus’s deadpan recites, “How can I show you that I’m telling the truth? That I mean every word I say.”

“Nothing.”

“Why? Why are you so determined to believe that no one thinks you’re worthy? You’re going to make an excellent prime. You’re already a wonderful captain.”

“You keep saying that but you know it isn’t true!”

“It is true, all of it.”

“Then why does everyone else think I’m a failure? Why did Pinnamus Prime take command? Why did he shove his greatest enemy on me to watch like some glorified patrol officer? And I can’t even do that right! I made friends with him, hey, maybe even proved he’s not completely evil! That was a surprise for me too.”

“Prime sees too much of himself in you. So much so that he forgets that you are your own person and not a perfect reflection. Whatever he perceives as failure in you is nothing more than him projecting his own fears on you. I think he feels as though he has failed as a prime and doesn’t want you to be the same.”

Rodimus hesitates for a long moment, the quiet palpable as all the attendees looks on in awe at their performance.

“Even if that was true,” Rodimus takes a deep intake, “I’m still not as good as you.”

Thunderclash looks at Rodimus, his spark aching, wanting nothing more than to take him into his arms and push the rest of the universe away, the universe that let Rodimus believe this about himself.

“No,” Thunderclash decides to ditch the script, “You’re better. I could never do what you’ve done here on the Lost Light. You’ve given people that didn’t quite fit a home, a place where they can be themselves. I was able to lead people in the war, I’m a good soldier, a law-abiding citizen. When the war was over, that was it. I didn’t know what to do so I just did whatever came my way. I didn’t fit anymore. You know exactly what to do. Your amica found you a ship, you found the next big adventure. Along the way you’ve done so much good, helped so many people and shown them they don’t have to be soldiers anymore. That’s why I’m here, because of you. On this ship, piece by piece, I’ve been able to figure out who I am again.”

“You… really mean that,” Rodimus looks up at Thunderclash with wide optics.

“Of course I do, I love you,” Thunderclash drop the datapad and takes Rodimus’s servos in his own the other datapad having been already forgotten during Thunderclash’s speech, “I’ll follow you so long as you’ll lead me. I’ll go anywhere so long as you’ll have me. I’ll do anything to show you I really mean it when I say ‘I love you.’ Please, at least believe me when I say I don’t think you’re a failure.”

Rodimus doesn’t say anything, he just looks up at Thundeclash in complete disbelief, unable to process what just happened. Just when Thunderclash thinks he’s messed everything up and begins to pull away, he’s suddenly pulled down. He exclaims in surprise then Rodimus is kissing him and nothing else matters. He holds Rodimus close and sighs at the feeling of soft lip plates against his own, feeling dizzy from his surprise and amazement. He didn’t think it would happen but here Rodimus is: kissing him with servos on his helm and humming with content. A rumble erupts from his engines suddenly and embarrassingly making him pull away to look down at Rodimus apologetically due to his involuntary show of excitement. Rodimus just laughs and Thunderclash finally registers the deafening cheers that surround them. First Aid is giving him a thumbs up and Nautica looks on with a dreamy look in her optics.

“Thunderclash,” Rodimus pulls his focus from the crowd, “same.”

Now it’s Thunderclash’s turn to laugh as he pulls Rodimus in for hug, his Rodimus, his captain, his love.

First Aid looks on as Rodimus whispers something to Thunderclash that makes his optics go wide before pulling him along out of Swerve’s followed by whoops and wolf whistles. He shakes his helm and laughs, pleased by how much better it all went down than he was hoping. Ambulon bumps into his side affectionately catching his attention.

“Shame your big finally wasn’t actually read,” Ambulon teases.

“That was way better than anything I could have written and it was from the spark so all the better,” First Aid shrugs and sips his drink that he finally got from Swerve.

“Seems like they aren’t wasting anymore time.”

“No,” First Aid laughs, “They certainly aren’t. I don’t think we’ll see our captain anytime soon.”

Ambulon turns First Aid’s helm to look at him and leans up to press a chaste kiss to his lip plates before moving away only slightly.

“You know,” Ambulon says quietly, “I think you deserve a reward for getting those two idiots together.”

“Oh yeah?” First Aid plays along, “And what do you have in mind for my reward?”

“That new berth you bought for me still hasn’t been properly broken-in yet,” Ambulon says in a low tone and rubs a thumb along First Aid’s faceplate.

“We better take care of that,” First Aid leans in for another kiss.

“We better,” Ambulon agrees once they break apart.

#rodiclash #thunderrod #first aid #fanfiction #maccadam #tf #alyonian #rodimus #thunderclash

[digitalwhatever]

The paranoid style is back, and better than ever

I know I’ve said this ad nauseam in these pages, but oh man are we in trouble as a nation. We find ourselves today in such an extremely ugly place, in the post-Obama era—an era riddled with hysteria, paranoia, division, hatred, extremism disguised as normal discourse. In fact, thanks to Fox news and the public institutions of hysteria (Rush Limbaugh, et al) much of what once might have been considered radical, violent, extreme or just plain socially unacceptable views or behavior is now normalized across the airwaves on a daily basis. It’s mainstream!

This trend has been exasperated by the anonymity and free expression (or rather “free of consequence” expression) allowed by the internet that leads us deeper off the cliff. Thus, here we are now, in the throws of the golden age of paranoia—a deeply shameful and disgusting time in America. Hallelujah!

So I figured this is the perfect time to go back and reread the original article “The Paranoid Style” by Richard Hofstadter (from Harper’s Magazine, 1964) which put into writing, clearly and thoughtfully for the thinking world to see a phenomenon that’s plagued the human race for centuries.

Hofstadter writes about popular movements in American history fed by conspiracy theories, and politicians who used those conspiracies to manipulate and stimulate voters’ passions. The anti-freemason movement of the late eighteenth century; the anti-catholic movement of the mid-nineteenth; the ani-shadow banker movement of the early 20th century; and of course, everyone’s favorite anti-communist frenzy of the McCarthy era. He ends on, what was then, the current rage in Paranoid Politics: the Barry Goldwater campaign, in which many of the pillars of modern conservative conspiracies were born and cemented.

But one thing I can’t help in reading about all these great moments in paranoid politics, is how quaint they are. How simple and relatively innocuous.

Hofstadter writes that one of the noteworthy developments to occur in the “modern” Goldwater era was the infusion of mass media to help fuel whatever strange and depraved messages were being brokered. Oh, but how gentle and dated the Goldwater days seem now, in comparison to today’s white hot mess. If Goldwater only had access to forces like Fox news and the internet, there’s no telling how far he could have gone. But he didn’t.

Rereading about the basic tenants of the paranoid mind and the exploitation thereof, it puts much clarity on what is happening to us now in this moment, and on how it is happening. The fears, the types of conspiracies, the invented enemies that politicians and media personalities use to manipulate voters, they come from well worn places in the human (or at least, the American white male) psyche. Capitalism is being undermined! Infiltrators from “outside” have worked their way to the highest levels of government. Backed by, and in cahoots with international radicals and powerful shadowy figureheads, they are plotting the destruction of the United States.

By the way, here’s an exercise for you: watch Fox news tonight and count how many times the say the word “socialist” in the course of a between-commercials segment. Also, how many times they pair the word “socialist” with “democrat” or “democrat party.” This is a way to get very drunk, very fast.

Even more disturbing and appalling then the actual practice is the skill with which the perpetrators of today’s paranoid politics inflict their craft. Whether it’s Trump, Sean Hannity, Laura Ingraham, or some Russian troll farm, these people know what the fuck they’re doing.

Look at the Russian trolls of 2016, for instance. They knew the exact type of conspiracy theory to publish, the exact kinds of stories that would gain traction and be share (amplified) by their intended audience: Hillary Clinton’s missing emails. Proof she was corrupted by foreign governments—a corrupt insider who’s infiltrated the highest levels of US government! Classic stuff, right out of the pages of Hofstadter.

Our current president, despite his massive faults, nastiness and moral deprivations, is an extremely gifted Paranoid politician. He has taken the art to new heights. In fact, in most instances, it’s all he’s got.

His particular gift is language. He finds perfect little packets of words to neatly summarize, encapsulate and motivate the conspiratorial spirit:

“The system is rigged”

“Fake news”

“Witch hunt”

“Giant hoax”

He repeats these over, and over, and over.

Let us not forget as well, that this guy’s entré into the world of national politics was through the “birther” movement, which itself was something of a high paranoid achievement. The president (Obama) was actually born outside the United States and is therefore not legitimate. He’s a foreigner, hell-bent on destroying democracy, capitalism and the constitution! The fact that Obama was African American worked doubly well on the paranoid mind: the theory fit so perfectly into those warped pre-conceived paranoid notions that blackness is otherness, and that those with dark skin represent a threat to the natural order of America. It was a paranoid home run, giving rise to a whole new era of mind bogglingly delusional right-wing ranting.

Cutting his teeth on this vast and rich material, the current office holder of the presidency continues to use the dark sentiments of “birtherism” to his advantage. Another of his overused verbal bludgeons is to blame all negative things happening in our country on Obama. And weirdly, to justify any untoward practices he uses himself in office by claiming, mostly wrongly that “Obama did it!” There is no logic or reality to this, but to the paranoid mind, it all makes perfect sense.

Sadly, it’s this same deep paranoid fear of dark skin that gives fuel to one of the greatest national disgraces of our era: our current immigration policy and this ridiculous turmoil about “the Wall.” None of this nonsense would be possible if not for a broader fear of dark skin “infiltration” which has been building with the paranoid crowd over the last 10 years or so.

In fact, when you look at just about any of today’s most important political battles today, it seems that the obstacles to progress and sensible policy are built out of paranoid building blocks. Whether it’s immigration policies, stopping the epidemic of gun violence, curbing widespread sexual harassment, ensuring fair and equal voting practices, or just about any issue on the table, you encounter some very emotionally powerful appeals to the great, white, irrational mind.

For instance:

Immigration:

Dark skinned rapists are crossing the border, stealing our jobs!

Gun Violence:

Democrats and liberals want to take away our guns!

Institutionalized Sexual Harassment:

White men in this country are under attack. Liberals want to destroy our careers!

Voting Rights:

Black people, Mexicans and democrats are voting illegally! They’re stealing our elections!

Environmental Policy

Global warming is a Chinese hoax! Regulations are killing our jobs!

Healthcare:

They’re trying to import European-style socialism and destroy capitalism!

Religion:

Christians and christianity are under attack from atheists and democrats who want to dismantle your religious liberty.

Fair taxation:

Socialism!

The fact that these conspiratorial roadblocks have been in use for such a long time and have been set in high-repeat mode puts us in a very tricky situation.

These paranoid sentiments are no longer loony-bin, fringe and weirdo rantings. They have become a standard, acceptable form of mainstream political discourse. People are using them ad nauseam to distort and short-circuit any type of rational political debate.

The birth of a new Rational Movement in politics

Rereading Hofstadter's original article, and working through some of my thoughts have helped tremendously to give me a sense of clarity towards our current political predicament.  It’s also helped to clarify some thoughts about a possible way out of this mess.

Here’s what I hope to see: some politician, or several politicians really, thought leaders, public voices, personalities, spokespeople from all walks of life and political persuasions, rising up from the current crop to begin a massive, persistent de-bunking and re-framing campaign.

They will need formidable language skills, guts, conviction, and god-like perseverance. The end goal: re-frame the debate. Shed light on the bizarre and out-of-whack nature of our current politics. Make it crystal clear what’s happening.

They cannot be the wonky, policy-minded politicians of today’s left, or the quirky, quick-witted personalities of MSNBC or late night TV. They cannot be merely smart people with good ideas. They need to convey the weight of truth and urgency in their words. They need to clarify in a concise, colloquial way. They need to lay it all on the table.

We are fighting against deep paranoid fears and the people who exploit such fear.

This is not a debate between left and right or liberalism versus conservatism. It’s a debate between sanity and insanity. Between rational thought, and bizarre ranting. It's a debate between very real ideas and irrational fear.

The Fox news crowd needs to be called out again and again, not as the “right” or the “right wing, but as the “paranoid right.” The two words can never be uncoupled.

Most importantly, politicians cannot pretend to debate against opponents who eschew this garbage. Call off the debates. Don’t yell at each other across the podium or from different boxes of the TV screen. Do not argue with insanity—it only serves to elevate it and make it seem like it’s a real, valid point-of-view.

At this point in time, I believe there is still a soft middle in the American electorate—people who have not yet been radicalized, polarized, marginalized, cannibalized or disenfranchised. People  who are still open to political discourse and are still capable of making decisions based on thought and information. These are the people who need to be reached and influenced. These are the people that can save our collective hides.

Of course, a few other things need to happen. For instance, Fox news needs to be put off the air once and for all. And the internet needs to be unplugged. But those are discussions for another day.

[anderwhohn]

anonymous asked: Who does your Shepard ship with if it's left to NPCs for platonic interactions?

First off, let me say that I am very much a multishipper - I enjoy exploring nearly all of the available romances available (and some not actually available in gameplay, but that's what fanfic and rp is for).

That being said, I don't assign ships to any of my muses' verses outside of actual shipverses, unless it's specifically plotted with the person I'm interacting for our interactions only. So unless it's a shipverse or otherwise plotted, Izzy is perpetually in a 'single' state.

If I had to assign someone for her to ship with, it'd most likely be with Tali and/or Garrus, or Thane in her Compact AU. But it would really depend on how the rest of the story was playing out to determine exactly who and even when in the timeline it happens (because if the ship plotting with @smokedanced is any indication, without gameplay limitations holding things back, things can and will start well before they do in the canon timelines if the story calls for it).

#anonymous #just perfectly normal paranoia ( anonymous ) #love the whooshing noise they make as they go by ( random asks ) #there was a point to this story ( answered ) #long dark teatime of the soul ( ooc replies ) #musings ( shepard ) #let's think the unthinkable ( musings ) #//i've replayed her story so many times #//there are save files for the ot #//where she's romanced nearly everyone available #//including one for having the fling with javik #//and she's not even the only shep i play #//izzy is just the one i brought to tumblr for rp

[celticnoise]

I don’t normally comment on stuff like this, on behalf of other fans, but I think the media’s efforts in trying to paint Ryan Jack as the victim of a cruel club and cruel fans over his move to Sevco is ridiculous to see the least. It is pathetic, in fact.

Jack’s wailing is over the way Aberdeen took the armband from him prior to the Scottish Cup Final. He claims to have been heartbroken over it, and has been pushing this line that it was somehow vindictive of the club and connected to the one he was moving to.

He’s in the door five minutes at Ibrox and already he’s flipped into full-scale “No-one likes us we don’t care.” He claims to have been a fan of Rangers – and presumably Sevco after them – all his life, and that’s exactly what he talks like.

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No embrace of the Victim Myth was never swifter.

Ibrox does this to people. It always has. It builds paranoia and resentment against others. But Jack’s whining is particularly amazing given that he’s been at Aberdeen since he was eight and came up through the club’s youth system.

Now, here he is, giving it big licks about how the club’s hatred of Sevco made them do something dreadful to him.

For the record, had I been his manager he wouldn’t even have got on the park. I couldn’t believe that McInnes selected him. He had just recovered from injury and couldn’t have been nearly fit. In the games where he hadn’t played the team had been excellent. The deal at Ibrox was as good as done. His loyalty was not in doubt; it was non-existent.

A club going into a major cup final should be led by someone committed to the cause, someone who’s dedicated to their future. Jack wasn’t, and Shinnie is, so McInnes was perfectly entitled to do what he did, with the club’s long-term goals in mind. Shinnie has proven his loyalty. He sees Aberdeen as his club now, and I thought he was the best player in their team last weekend. He earned his day with the armband.

Jack says his own performance proved he still wanted to win for the team.

Forgive me if I don’t believe that, and express that view with one arse cheek raised and the cutting of a loud fart. Jack wasn’t playing for the club; he was playing for personal glory, for the chance to walk into Ibrox the big man, the hero, the one who stopped the Invincibles.

Those in the Sevco support who delude themselves that he bossed Scott Brown … ha! I’ve watched those two come up against each other over a dozen times in recent years and Jack did not dominate in a single one of those games, which is reflected in the vast disparity in the points total the teams have taken from them, but also in the general fact that no Celtic fan I know ever left one of those games or went online after it and said “that boy would do a job for us.”

Contrast that with the mixed reaction to the rumours about Jonny Hayes earlier in the week; many Celtic fans agreed with me that it would be a mistake to replace Patrick Roberts with such an option, but hardly any disagreed that he would be a good squad player who would do us a turn in domestic football. Celtic fans have noticed Hayes; he scores against us, how could you not? But Jack has remained anonymous, a player who wouldn’t get near our first team.

As Sevco signings go, he’s a decent one. Aberdeen fans will miss him until they sign a replacement; this is not a loss they will mourn like that of Hayes or of a club hero of old. The general consensus is that with guys like McLean and Shinnie still in the team, and some good young talent coming through, the club is well placed to keep moving forward. They may well be right, although a club that takes itself seriously ought not to be selling its best player, and particularly not to a rival, but there’s a good feeling around the club, as it prepares for a new era at a new home.

I would wager that Jack’s future is altogether less certain. He arrives at a time when Sevco is embarking on a signing spree which is simply unbelievable, and completely un-funded. The numbers don’t come close to adding up; they are literally gambling with the future.

If I were him, I would not count on the full three year stay.

http://ift.tt/2s6kwoJ

#CelticNoise #Celtic #CelticFC #TheCelticBlog #News

[blaisebambini]

FILMS 14-23

14. Perfect Strangers, Paolo Genovese

I believe this is the first full foreign film I’ve watched with subtitles, and I’m quite happy that it is. I usually get irritated when technology, particularly cellphones, are depicted as inimical objects. There’s always a paranoia that I’m being subjected to propaganda geared towards retrograde progress, yet this film deals with the issue in a different light. It presents the phone as an accepted element of society, not something to be rallied against, while maintaining an ominous quality around it. It comments on the abuse of its aid in the way that we can become slaves to little black boxes. We entrust our entire selves to them. It’s a matter of checking oneself in the perspective of the extent of damage that the worst case scenario can produce upon its unravelling. It’s sad how we can get complacent in pouring more of ourselves int o the recesses of our phone, rather than actually spitting it out and dealing with the consequences. There was also a very clear eclipse motif, which I almost found too blatant and subsequently cheap, but the way they played on the concept of an eclipse (passing and the moon becoming normal again) redeemed it. The movie was paced really well, the dissolution of all their relationships taking place in the span of a dinner made it feel like an inconspicuous weight was slowly setting on your shoulders until it suddenly dropped at its peak.

15. The Lobster, Yorgos Lanthimos

I DON’T THINK I CAN FIX MY NOTES FOR THIS ONE, BUT IT’S REALLY GREAT. IT’S A CONTENDER FOR FAVOURITE FILM IN 2016:

Bi sexual several operational problems There are no half sizes for shoes

Revert to animals if you don't find a suitable match Second chance but restrictions Aversion to being single Simulated or arranged controlled Perfectly matched and having similarities

Tudor Phoenix

Beautiful

Ruin relationships show how unmatched they were Love is blind

16. Nerve, Ariel Schulman & Herny Joost

I’m writing this in 2017, forgive me, but I still think of this film fondly. Upon watching the trailer, I though to myself, “This seems fun and like a one-time joyride type of film, I want to watch this.” It has proven itself to be more than that. Theses one of the few movies that I would be happy to watch again. The plot, as interesting as it is, also contains substance. In the frenzy of the game, it spoke to the tendencies of social media, namely the way people can get sucked into all this stimulus that appear on their feed, living vicariously through other people or the way some are dictated by online reactions, projecting images of themselves that are then shaped by the audience’s reception—both paths leading into the same endless black hole. Throughout the film, these things were represented very cleverly in the visuals. The one that struck me the most was the image of all figures in the shot being a shapeless black, allowing  the lit phone screens to dominate, in the same way that people can just hide behind the anonymity of online personas and the cold indifference of typed words or human actions filtered through non-living mechanisms. The entire film was held together by the tension and stress that it captured precisely. I’m still struck with the resonance of the film and its themes, but certainly a fraction of its success can be attributed to the soundtrack, which very accurately represented the current time period without resorting to mainstream music. Also, the cinematography was on point, very fast-paced, yet well focused (in terms of what the eye is drawn to or conveying/ representing the main ideas and elements in a particular scene), and the color grading was very stark, the colors were neon and very clean. AND THE ROMANTIC PLOT WAS CUTE TOO, BY THE WAY.

17. Music & Lyrics, Marc Lawrence

This is one of my favourite films from my early childhood. Apart from The Little Mermaid, this is the first film I remember thoroughly enjoying to the point that I would gladly watch over and over.

18. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, David Yates

I was honestly very skeptical walking into the movie because I was scared it would ruin the entire franchise. I was afraid that its aim was to garner profit, especially with the five succeeding movies already being planned. Nonetheless, all I wanted to do in the moments after the end credits scrolled up was rewatch the movie or better yet, watch the next film. The film had such an excellent opening montage of newspapers. It was a really good way to get the audience focused by projecting familiarity, establishing the imminence of Grindelwald and dark magic, as well as pointing out that it was an international issue given the foreign language newspapers featured in it. I’ll admit, I entertained a few nostalgic tears because I finally got to see the entire world again, the world where everyone carried around wands and moved with corresponding grace. The characters in themselves are endearing in true Harry Potter style. They were perfectly clear and commanded authority independently, forming immediate bonds with the audience. What I enjoyed most was that the film took a turn from Harry Potter, creating an entirely different, and considerably darker, story. The obscurus, although a new concept, fit logically and congruously into the Wizarding World. The entire film with the integration of the beasts and acting was great. One thing I wish was in one of the books is the manner of execution in the pool that looks like a giant pensieve. That was eerily real. I like how you can see how much image quality and cinematography have improved through the years because although this is set in the 1920s and characters and settings are adorned correspondingly, it looks and feels much more modern compared to the first Harry Potter film. SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT ONE HEHE <3

19. Moana, Ron Clements

I actually watched this in the cinema twice and I’m still in awe of the score and animation, especially of the water. I liked how all of the songs had a distinct voice and tone that catered to the story more than just entertainment. Speaking of which, I didn’t know the Rock could sing; I was pleasantly surprised to hear him singing “You’re welcome,” something he could definitely get away with. My favourite was Shiny, sung by Tamatoa. It was such good villain song, and it acted as a great anti-thematic song. The song and its accompanying animation were glorious digs at falling into a dark pit and choosing wealth and external satisfaction over the ultimate message of following what your heart is calling you to do, going beyond your comfort zone or the “reef” or status quo you’ve been brought up hardly knowing you’ve been hedged in until it’s almost too late. I liked how they reconciled that idea with the very Ithaca theme of the journey being more important than the destination because you will always end up back home in a way. It’s interesting how the entire story had been a fluke, something linear with a simple alternative used to drive home these two themes, as the god Teka had actually been a bitter, dried out Tahiti lacking her heart. It’s also real in the sense that Maui had done all these things yearning for love, but knew he couldn’t stay on the island with Moana and her people. There’s also the question of being the chosen one, of succeeding down the path you thought you had so much faith in.This was a fairly funny film, there was something new in its ability to make remarks about Disney princesses who are next in line and have talking animal friends (and she hadn’t been accompanied by the pig that everyone, I suspect, expected). In that respect, aside from having the film set in Polynesia, they’ve decided to break barriers. It reminds me of the Bechdel test and the conditions that need to be satisfied in order for a character not to be classified as a manic pixie dream girl (my Grade 10 research paper was on how YA fiction—or all well-written fiction—deconstructs the manic pixie dream girl archetype).

As per usual, Disney screens an animated short before the actual film. In this case, I think it supplement the film really well, what with the literal depiction of finding the slightly skewed balance between head and heart.

20. Cafe Society, Woody Allen

The cinematography is great. The emotional build-up, execution, and resonance of the plot were exceedingly satisfying. It was so creatively done, especially the introductory encounter with the hooker to illustrate the naivety and discomfort at being in a foreign environment. The way Vonnie had been backlit and framed with a halo in the early scenes until the image she had been presenting, feeding him with angsty comments on being  disillusioned by Hollywood, fell through and broke the innocence of the film at the point of Bobby’s brother being condemned and executed for his crimes, a connection Bobby had been ignoring. It’s a dreamlike film where they settle into complacency, into the derided “cafe society” and tables turn when Bobby has the pleasure of showing Vonnie around, their minds always on what could have been.

Too bad though, that dream ended with Woody Allen and the cases of child molestation against him. That just makes the film feel almost like a parody, a justification, or a platitude like food once savoury and now only a sour aftertaste of chyme.

21. Miss Stevens, Julia Hart

Nothing great, but I would like to commend the film for being able to do a lot within such a small place and concept. I’ll say this is only memorable because I have a vested interest in the arts and teaching English, but I was struck when one of the students commented on the student teacher relationship and how a lot of communication takes place but they don’t really know each other. There’s also the idea that some institutions restrain expression like school and the intangible boundaries that enclose it, evident when Miss Stevens curses in the car although she had reprimanded the students within the four walls for it. It’s interesting to attempt to fathom the conditions of a situation and why it definitely sounded weird to have Billy call Miss Stevens “Rachel,” how although they weren’t in school, they still were. Also, Miss Stevens mentioned how she was used to “talking at people” and in that moment it made me sad but also something so familiar from Lit Beadle and VP stuff. In addition to this, having the other English teacher explain the allure of an English teacher—someone wiser, inspiring you and telling you what to do. It’s something that sounds so organic, but in this light is very formulaic and I can’t shake that. Of course I want to go into the profession talking about themes and inspiring, but does that leverage from speaking of universal themes and essentially teaching students how to be human take away from the nobility, success, and satisfaction of the career. The film felt pretty ambitious but not cohesive enough. It certainly has compassion and made me think in the moment, but if not for my notes, I would have hardly remembered more than the basic plot.

22. Roman Holiday, William Wyler

Every scene was so interesting and aesthetically pleasing despite the film being devoid of color. The characters were endearing and engaging, and the actors behind them were equally so.

23. Sunday Beauty Queen, Baby Ruth Villarama

It was such a struggle for me to find someone willing to watch this film with me, but it was definitely worth it. I would have felt no resentment had I actually gone to see it alone. I think this was a great conclusion to the position paper I had written this semester. My partner and I had decided to focus on the lack of educational programs provided to kasambahay, branching out into the causes and effects of the issue, the links with the national issue of kasambahay sector being integral parts of the economy yet being treated as second class citizens, and the international issue of OFW stereotyping. One of our last submissions for the Political Science/English for Academic Purposes finals was an AVP that summed up the position paper.

By no means was the issue discussed anything new, yet the film was able to match its gravity without being overwrought. The film found a path into the issue from an unhackneyed angle, enshrining it in the Sunday beauty pageants that take place in Hong Kong. At the thought of the films premise, I was already so close to tears—the simple joys of escaping for a day and being the apples of someone’s eyes for a change. It’s a nice idea to be giving them a little glory, and it is this calm before the storm that serves as a voice for the entire film. The cameras don’t just shut off at the end of the pageants, it follows the domestic workers through the trains bound for their employers homes. In those moments, they’re in liminal states and you feel the heaviness of the situation sinking in as they remove their make-up and try to push back that feeling of being light on their feet from earlier in the day. The film doesn’t romanticise anything, revealing the way some are terminated so quickly, with no mercy for the early hours of the night. Everything is real and candid. The documentary doesn’t even attempt to be poetic or scripted, it’s just that the words coming out of their mouths speak of a greater truth that I don’t believe could have been fully developed if the issue was dealt with in any other way.

As mentioned, the film hadn’t sugar coated anything, at the pageants they would poke fun at the contestants, asking them questions that “agitated” them and edited none of the slightly ineloquent strings of English they had pulled together. With this they also presented a sample of the array of issues all of them put up with because of the strict contractual policies of Hong Kong, particularly the 14-day grace period in between jobs before they are sent back to the Philippines. We are shown the side of the story where they are glorified, they build rapport with accepting families who sometimes even support them on Sundays and consider them part of the family like Mr. Jack and the ballet teacher, but those sit alongside the poor working conditions, harsh regulations, and how they have to take care of other people’s children and sacrifice their time just to support their own. I can’t tell you how many times I teared up during the film. Every one hit hard and made me think about being more compassionate. I used to be bothered by the people loitering in the underpass areas or subways/ making commissions in the streets, thinking them people of no class, but now I understand the frenzy and excitement they're in.

Although the film left me downcast, the documentary itself was balanced out by a very Filipino humor, like “Beauty and the Best, where Best is the les” or the enjoyment people get from watching the contestants perform and the difficulty they have in answering in English. And the bottomline is not that it’s about something as shallow as outward beauty, but giving them the nourishment the inside needs, doing something fun for them that will also benefit other charities.

#film #mine

[anderwhohn]

Anonymous asked: ✨🌈☀️send this to ten people you're happy to see every time they pop up on your dash/notif and wish them a good day🌟🌈💥

#anonymous #just perfectly normal paranoia ( anonymous ) #love the whooshing noise they make as they go by ( random asks ) #long dark teatime of the soul ( ooc replies ) #//low spoons = gif communication #//is made of tired today #//in that only woke up at 7pm & struggled to figure out if am or pm #//i forgot to make coffee when i went to go make coffee #//it's been an interesting start to the day to say the least

[anderwhohn]

Anonymous asked: ☆ Put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. It's time to spread positivity!!!!

Thank you, dear anon. 💜 This has been in my inbox for about a month now, and I keep forgetting about it because I'm usually focused on very specific things when going through the asks (given there's currently over 135 of them on this blog alone... oops... xD ), which is why it's taken me a while.

As Commander Shepard might say: This is my favourite anon on the Citadel in my inbox.

#anonymous #just perfectly normal paranoia ( anonymous ) #long dark teatime of the soul ( ooc replies ) #love the whooshing noise they make as they go by ( random asks ) #there was a point to this story ( answered )

[anderwhohn]

anonymous asked: Jack, we know you aren’t exactly looking for a partner. However, if you were to hypothetically get romantically involved with someone, what qualities would draw you in?

💌 unprompted. [ always accepting ]

"Ah, shit. Are we really doing this? I don't do this touchy-feely shit…"

Jack falls silent for several minutes, seeming to be trying to gauge whether or not to even answer - or how much - or truthfully - she should actually answer the question. Because, honestly, they're right in that she's not looking, not after the last time she got fucked - and not in the fun way.

"Hell, I don't know. I'm not a people person. I've had enough people trying to screw with my head, or use me for whatever. Turns out a lot of the fucking galaxy is full of assholes like that. I don't mind when trouble comes along, but I don't want that kind of trouble again."

"So, fuck you. And thanks for asking."

#anonymous #just perfectly normal paranoia ( anonymous ) #dreams of elsewhere ( ic ) #boil with rage ( jack ) #love the whooshing noise they make as they go by ( random asks ) #there was a point to this story ( answered )

[anderwhohn]

anonymous asked: Hawke?

💌 unprompted. [ always accepting ]

Is this a request for one, or for my thoughts on them, or for a muse's thoughts on them? I'm a bit confused here. But to briefly touch on the subject:

Yes, I would consider adding Hawke. My biggest problem is deciding which of my Hawke's to add. Though I will admit, they tend to be of the "purple" variety (I say, as if this would come to a shock to anyone who knows both me and the DA2 game mechanics). Fuck it, if enough interest is had for it, I might add my elder Hawke twins, Rowan and Quincy, simply for double the trouble.

As for what I think of Hawke? Love 'em. Absolutely love 'em, though they can, at times, be ridiculously dense to the matters of Kirkwall and Thedas on a whole. Which makes the ones who end up becoming Viscount all the more hilarious, especially a snarky Hawke who gets put in that position of power, even if they don't keep it for long.

Varric, of course, immediately has "that person is Best Friend-shaped" radar when it comes to (most) Hawkes, and doubly so for the sarcastic ones.

Carver will just be over in the corner, groaning in a mix of exasperation and frustration, but deep down he does care about his elder sibling. He's just really bad at showing it most of the time, unless it's defending them in battle.

Others... Well, you (or someone else) will just have to ask again and be a bit more specific in what the question actually is.

#anonymous #just perfectly normal paranoia ( anonymous ) #love the whooshing noise they make as they go by ( random asks ) #long dark teatime of the soul ( ooc replies )

[anderwhohn]

anonymous asked: Besides Mass Effect and Dragon Age, what other games do you play?

Oh man, where do I even begin? Considering I own over 400 games on Steam alone (mostly thanks to Humble Bundle, sales, free forever giveaways, and a lot of patience), as well as others through the various other launchers, it's safe to say I enjoy a massive variety of games in general.

Some of my most played and favourite games beyond Mass Effect and Dragon Age are Skyrim, Cities: Skylines, Don't Starve, Planet Coaster, Slime Rancher, Two Point Hospital, Plague Inc. Evolved, Darkest Dungeon, Civilization V, Game Dev Tycoon, Portal & Portal 2, House Flipper, Okami, Kerbal Space Program, Stardew Valley, The Sims 4, Prison Architect, PC Building Simulator, The Stanley Parable, and Universe Sandbox.

And that's only barely scratching the surface, since a lot of those are where I've replayed them repeatedly beyond a single playthrough.

I love choice-based video games, where the story outcomes varies depending on your dialogue and chosen actions. I also love city builders and such, though I will admit that I usually play in sandbox mode and/or use cheats for infinite money simply because I can't be bothered with the career mode struggles.

Games with snarky, compelling villains are right up my alley (think GLaDOS from the Portal series), as are games with unexpected twist elements that you would never think would be in the game and yet there it is (fucking Stardew Valley... Farming simulator with weird ass shit going on).

I also enjoy the hell out of numerous horror games, but not the ones where it's simply jump scares (ie youtube bait, at this point). I love psychological thrillers, eldritch horrors, and the like, but I definitely have to be in the mood for them and have the energy to usually finish them in a single sitting because those kinds of games are harder to get into the right brainspace if I'm stopping and not playing it for several days before picking it up again.

I've played a few dating simulators and visual novels (Roommates and Long Live The Queen are the two I've played the most of, respectively). I enjoy releasing the dinosaurs on unsuspecting guests in Jurassic World: Evolution, since the chaos is entertaining, and the game otherwise hits that city builder vibe I enjoy. I've also played Fallout 3, New Vegas, and part of Fallout 4, though I haven't finished it yet between pc issues I had at the time and then mod issues I had once I fixed my computer.

I also enjoy weird little games like World of Goo, Little Inferno, and Human Resource Machine, as well as puzzle games like KAMI, Mini Metro, and various Popcap games like Bejeweled, Peggle Nights, and Plants vs Zombies.

Some of my very old school favourites are the classic Sonic The Hedgehog games (the ones for the Master System, Genesis, and Saturn, specifically), with Sonic 2 being my absolute favourite, especially when 'locked in' with the Knuckles cartridge (consoles were wild back then), though I always spent nearly the max level time in the Casino Zone simply because that was my favourite zone to simply play in, while I'd rush through the others, usually at breakneck speeds since I'd played so often I could finish most levels in under a minute.

Beyond that? I pretty much play whatever catches my eye. I've played some weird af games (and not all of them indie titles) as well as the standard big stuff from major devs that nearly everyone's heard of. The only things I don't really play is stuff like Call of Duty (though I think I do own part of the series, because it was a thing for Gary's Mod, iirc), since that kind of gameplay doesn't interest me and I'm not a big fan of most online games either (the only MMO I ever really played was Elder Scrolls Online, and I did most of the Aldmeri Dominion quest solo, with the exception of stuff where you had to find a group for a particular mission, but now my internet is such shit where I currently live that online gaming isn't even an option).

These days, I pretty much play exclusively on pc since I don't own a tv and/or any consoles any more, and I rarely play any mobile games unless severe weather's forced me to unplug my computer or I'm stuck away from home for an extended period of time. Besides that, I prefer pc gaming anyway because I enjoy playing with mods (even if I don't always enjoy setting up those mods, and then having to update those mods), mostly for community patches, accessibility fixes, and additional gameplay content.

So, yeah... I play a wide variety of games, and do so pretty frequently, though lately I've mostly been cycling through Mass Effect Legendary Edition with different Shepards (or even an AU version of a familiar Shep in once case, as I'm replaying Izzy to determine how things turn out exactly under her Compact AU) as well as Mass Effect: Andromeda.

Which the latter just really makes me want to give Shepard jump jets, because come on, imagine the chaos that is already Izzy, but with jump jets!! Sara is almost as chaotic, and she has them, so Izzy should have them too (and yes, I'm totally willing to say 'fuck it' and give her the tech in rp, especially given what the codex has to say about N7 training and such, since it does mention various skills that just aren't available through gameplay, just like how I toss whatever powers are needed whenever in the timelines, since Flare doesn't become available until ME3, but she can pull it off in ME1 rp, just not without some backlash then due to her L3 amp - it's not until she gets the Cerberus upgrades that she really starts using it combat, otherwise it's more of an instinctual self-defence thing).

Anyway, I think I've rambled on enough as it is, especially since it's nearly 4am and I need to go take my meds. Thanks for asking (and for reading the ramble, if you made it this far)! 🥰

#anonymous #just perfectly normal paranoia ( anonymous ) #love the whooshing noise they make as they go by ( random asks ) #long dark teatime of the soul ( ooc replies )