#and save millions of dollars for when they come back as a group

[oneofthosecrazycatladies]

Okay so we have this huge problem with forgetting about everything that’s happened by the time the next election rolls around so I’d like to keep a running list of things as they’re happening to help remind us when the 2026 midterms roll around. And please add to this if I’ve missed anything.

January 2025:

Donald Trump pardoned 1500 people who participated in the insurrection of January 6th, including those who violently assaulted and nearly killed police officers.

Donald Trump has declared that trans and non-binary people don’t exist.

Donald Trump is working towards firing everyone in the government who isn’t loyal to him.

Donald Trump has effectively fired everyone who he claims is an “illegal DEI hire” …whatever that means

Donald Trump pulled out of the Paris Climate Agreement and the World Health Organization

Congress are trying to pass the Laken Riley Act to, effectively, round up every immigrant in the country, including LEGAL immigrants

Donald Trump removed caps on prescription drug prices.

Donald Trump wants to withhold federal aid to help combat the LA wildfires and help the thousands of people who have been displaced and lost their homes.

The Department of Justice has put a hold on all civil rights cases.

Donald Trump has cut off aid to Ukraine.

Laken Riley Act has been passed by Congress and is awaiting being signed into law by the President. Here’s the breakdown of the votes: House Senate

Donald Trump purged a dozen inspectors general from the federal government and intends to replace them all with people loyal to him.

Pete Hegseth has been confirmed as Secretary of Defense. Here’s the breakdown of how the Senate voted. Note, it was a 50-50 tie that JD Vance had to break.

Donald Trump imposed a 25% tariff on Colombia after the Colombian government turned away two airplanes carrying migrants. Columbia has retaliated by imposing a 25% tariff of its own on US goods.

Donald Trump has also issued a travel ban for Colombian citizens and revoked visas from Colombian migrants coming to the US.

Donald Trump has now backed off the tariffs and other threats against Colombia. Note for future reference: this comes just hours after Trump made the threat in the first place and he and the Colombian president got into a big fight on social media.

Nearly 1,000 migrants were arrested mostly in Chicago on January 26th by ICE and ICE has been told to meet a quota of 75 migrant arrests every day.

Donald Trump rescinded an anti-discrimination executive order from Lyndon B. Johnson

Donald Trump signed an executive order banning trans people from serving in the military and also ordered that people who were discharged for refusing to get mandatory vaccines be reinstated.

Donald Trump has frozen all federal grants to institutions.

After pressure from state governments, activist groups, and the general public, the White House has rolled back some of the freezes on federal funding.

This.

Donald Trump is trying to fire all federal employees who don’t want to return to the office (work-from-home saves the federal government millions of taxpayer dollars in overhead). He also sent an email to federal employees saying that if they’re not loyal to him, they’ll be investigated.

Donald Trump has signed the Laken Riley Act into law.

Donald Trump has said he doesn’t think Palestinians should be allowed to return to Gaza but instead should be sent to Egypt and Jordan.

Also this.

Donald Trump has ordered undocumented immigrants to be sent to Guantanamo Bay

Donald Trump signed an executive order to expand federal funding for school choice programs. [x]

Donald Trump signed an executive order saying that he will deport visa-holding students who protest against Israel. [x]

Donald Trump has blamed DEI for the plane crash that killed 67 people in Washington D. C. [x]

Donald Trump signed an executive order that schools should no longer teach about racism and discrimination. And that schools should only teach history that is “patriotic” [x]

Florida Representative Anna Paulina Luna wants to add Donald Trump’s face to Mount Rushmore. [x]

Trump’s Department of Education has called book bans a hoax. [x]

The Department of Justice has barred certain news outlets from receiving information from the Pentagon. [x]

The Trump administration has fired multiple FBI officials who investigated the January 6th insurrection. [x]

February 2025

I’ll keep adding to this list as new things come up and, again, please feel free to add anything I’ve missed. I know that in this world of constant news it’s easy to forget, so let’s give our future selves a little help!

[fans4wga]

"The studios thought they could handle a strike. They might end up sparking a revolution"

by Mary McNamara

"If you want to start a revolution, tell your workers you’d rather see them lose their homes than offer them fair wages. Then lecture them about how their “unrealistic” demands are “disruptive” to the industry, not to mention disturbing your revels at Versailles, er, Sun Valley.

Honestly, watching the studios turn one strike into two makes you wonder whether any of their executives have ever seen a movie or watched a television show. Scenes of rich overlords sipping Champagne and acting irritated while the crowd howls for bread rarely end well for the Champagne sippers.

This spring, it sometimes seemed like the Hollywood studios represented by the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers were actively itching for a writers’ strike. Speculations about why, exactly, ran the gamut: Perhaps it would save a little money in the short run and show the Writers Guild of America (perceived as cocky after its recent ability to force agents out of the packaging business) who’s boss.

More obviously, it might secure the least costly compromise on issues like residuals payments and transparency about viewership.

But the 20,000 members of the WGA are not the only people who, having had their lives and livelihoods upended by the streaming model, want fair pay and assurances about the use of artificial intelligence, among other sticking points. The 160,000 members of the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists share many of the writers’ concerns. And recent unforced errors by studio executives, named and anonymous, have suddenly transformed a fight the studios were spoiling for into a public relations war they cannot win.

Even as SAG-AFTRA representatives were seeing a majority of their demands rejected despite a nearly unanimous strike vote, a Deadline story quoted unnamed executives detailing a strategy to bleed striking writers until they come crawling back.

Days later, when an actors’ strike seemed imminent, Disney Chief Executive Bob Iger took time away from the Sun Valley Conference in Idaho not to offer compromise but to lecture. He told CNBC’s David Faber that the unions’ refusal to help out the studios by taking a lesser deal is “very disturbing to me.”

“There’s a level of expectation that they have that is just not realistic,” Iger said. “And they are adding to the set of the challenges that this business is already facing that is, quite frankly, very disruptive.”

If Iger thought his attempt to exec-splain the situation would make actors think twice about walking out, he was very much mistaken. Instead, he handed SAG-AFTRA President Fran Drescher the perfect opportunity for the kind of speech usually shouted atop the barricades.

“We are the victims here,” she said Thursday, marking the start of the actors’ strike. “We are being victimized by a very greedy entity. I am shocked by the way the people that we have been in business with are treating us. I cannot believe it, quite frankly: How far apart we are on so many things. How they plead poverty, that they’re losing money left and right, when giving hundreds of millions of dollars to their CEOs. It is disgusting. Shame on them. They stand on the wrong side of history at this very moment.”

Cue the cascading strings of “Les Mis,” bolstered by images of the most famous people on the planet walking out in solidarity: the cast of “Oppenheimer” leaving the film’s London premiere; the writers and cast of “The X-Files” reuniting on the picket line.

A few days later, Barry Diller, chairman and senior executive of IAC and Expedia Group and a former Hollywood studio chief, suggested that studio executives and top-earning actors take a 25% pay cut to bring a quick end to the strikes and help prevent “the collapse of the entire industry.”

When Diller is telling executives to take a pay cut to avoid destroying their industry, it is no longer a strike, or even two strikes. It is a last-ditch attempt to prevent le déluge.

Yes, during the 2007-08 writers’ strike, picketers yelled noncomplimentary things at executives as they entered their respective lots. (“What you earnin’, Chernin?” was popular at Fox, where Peter Chernin was chairman and chief executive.) But that was before social media made everything more immediate, incendiary and personal. (Even if they have never seen a movie or TV show, one would think that people heading up media companies would understand how media actually work.)

Even at the most heated moments of the last writers’ strike, executives like Chernin and Iger were seen as people who could be reasoned with — in part because most of the executives were running studios, not conglomerations, but mostly because the pay gap between executives and workers, in Hollywood and across the country, had not yet widened to the reprehensible chasm it has since.

Now, the massive eight- and nine-figure salaries of studio heads alongside photos of pitiably small residual checks are paraded across legacy and social media like historical illustrations of monarchs growing fat as their people starve. Proof that, no matter how loudly the studios claim otherwise, there is plenty of money to go around.

Topping that list is Warner Bros. Discovery Chief Executive Davd Zaslav. Having re-named HBO Max just Max and made cuts to the beloved Turner Classic Movies, among other unpopular moves, Zaslav has become a symbol of the cold-hearted, highly compensated executive that the writers and actors are railing against.

The ferocious criticism of individual executives’ salaries has placed Hollywood’s labor conflict at the center of the conversation about growing wealth disparities in the U.S., which stokes, if not causes, much of this country’s political divisions. It also strengthens the solidarity among the WGA and SAG-AFTRA and with other groups, from hotel workers to UPS employees, in the midst of disputes during what’s been called a “hot labor summer.”

Unfortunately, the heightened antagonism between studio executives and union members also appears to leave little room for the kind of one-on-one negotiation that helped end the 2007-08 writers’ strike. Iger’s provocative statement, and the backlash it provoked, would seem to eliminate him as a potential elder statesman who could work with both sides to help broker a deal.

Absent Diller and his “cut your damn salaries” plan, there are few Hollywood figures with the kind of experience, reputation and relationships to fill the vacuum.

At this point, the only real solution has been offered by actor Mark Ruffalo, who recently suggested that workers seize the means of production by getting back into the indie business, which is difficult to imagine and not much help for those working in television.

It’s the AMPTP that needs to heed Iger’s admonishment. At a time when the entertainment industry is going through so much disruption, two strikes is the last thing anyone needs, especially when the solution is so simple. If the studios don’t want a full-blown revolution on their hands, they’d be smart to give members of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA contracts they can live with."

[matthewtkachuk]

somehow still stuck on you

navigating the realities of your post break up friendship with quinn is exacerbated by how much you’re not over him

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

warnings: a bit of exes to lovers angst

word count: 2.4k

a/n: hi @boqvistsbabe i’m your fic exchange writer, i’m sorry for the wait but i hope you enjoy!! i was feeling mad regret over not signing up for the fic exchange so when @wyattjohnston asked if i wanted to step in as a pinch hitter i said duhhhhh. this is as much a love letter to vancouver in late july as it is a quinn fic

Quinn’s back in Vancouver. 

It’s not exactly revolutionary given the millions of dollars and the capital C handed to him by the Vancouver Canucks, but it is noteworthy given the timing.  

Training camp doesn’t start for another month, which makes it highly strange for Quinn to be back in the city already. Last you heard he was having a Brat Summer in Michigan. 

Not that you were keeping tabs on your ex-boyfriend-turned-just-friend, of course. It’s not a crime to click through the first five Insta stories when you open the app, even when it showcases how much fun he’s having without you. 

Although it might have felt like it when you were dating, the sun and moon didn’t rise and fall at the behest of Quinn Hughes. It was just easier to remember that fact when you weren’t faced with him—quite literally faced with a giant banner of his likeness leaving the Stadium-Chinatown SkyTrain station. The start of the regular season would be bad enough with his name on every one of your coworkers' lips. 

All this to say you thought you had more time before he re-entered a position at the center of your universe. 

Summer had been kind to you, giving you the time and space needed to move on and heal. Even with the colder than usual June, you’d managed to sneak away to Osoyoos a couple weekends with the girls. Your skin? Glowing. Your hair? Shining. Your thoughts? Totally devoid of one Quinn Hughes. 

Until you’d been swiping through the aforementioned stories and spotted one of your favorite walking spots in his story. Very much downtown Vancouver and very much not Michigan. 

It wasn’t a terrible break up and you’d been friends long before ever getting together, so it’s not unreasonable to receive an invitation to get the gang together for drinks and dinner in Gastown to celebrate the return of Quinn and others in your friend group to your city. 

The time and place all but guarantees you have no way of getting out of it, and truly you are happy to get together with everyone, so you have no choice but to react to the “thumbs up if you’re coming” message. 

All the healing and the positive thinking in the world can’t  stop you from dressing a little better than you ordinarily would for a casual hang or spending a little more time on your hair. 

You’re glad for the extra effort when you stroll in right on time. Everyone is loitering around the entrance, clearly waiting on an open table. It kind of foils your plan to slip into an empty chair, thereby avoiding the initial how are you hug train. Before you can even think of another way out of it, you find yourself being passed along from one friend to another until you reach Quinn, fumbling into a quick and stilted hug. 

“Awkward,” Sienna hisses but all you can do is shrug pathetically. 

You’re saved from much more embarrassment by the hostess informing your group the table is ready and you’re so grateful you could almost kiss her. The long table means you’re not sat immediately beside Quinn which is a blessing because you’re not sure you could take any more close contact. Conversation flows easily around you, the usual topics of work, families, and shitty roommates. 

Everything is going well until the conversation turns to Quinn’s summer in Michigan. The distance between the two of you isn’t large enough for you to miss the way Quinn’s eyes flicker over to you when someone asks him if he’s seeing anyone. 

It’s not fair the way your vision briefly turns to black, your heart constricting in your chest. The feeling of almost betrayal that floods your veins isn’t fair either—it’s been months since you broke up and you’ve been on your own fair share of dates. Failed dates to be fair, but dates all the same. 

Sienna is your saving grace in the form of a clenched hand around your forearm, hauling you to the bathroom with some fake excuse you don’t hear. 

“Are you okay?” she asks outside of the table’s listening distance 

You can only shrug pathetically, all words failing you now. 

She waits a solid three minutes before leading you back. 

“Crisis averted!” she declares when you both return, flipping her hair over her shoulder. 

The conversation has turned away from romantic endeavors, circling back to someone’s work drama. 

You get the sense that Quinn is trying to meet your eyes, but you don’t dare look in that direction until it’s time to leave. Your exit is hasty, the excuse of needing to catch the sky train in the next eight minutes excusing you from any further contact. In the sea of goodbyes, Quinn’s is the clearest. 

-

It’s not technically avoiding if your workload has you so busy you barely see your roommate, let alone your friend group, right? 

There’s a major deadline coming at work and it feels as though you’re wasting money on rent when all of your time is spent at the office. Wake up, work, eat, sleep, repeat. 

It’s easier to just mute the group chat, rather than be bothered by the buzzing of your phone. 

Easier until Sienna ends up bursting through your door after work using the key you’d given her for emergencies only. 

“This is an emergency,” she says before you can speak—caught red handed knee deep in an episode of Love Island UK and a tub of ice cream. 

Neither of you speak as she grabs a spoon from your drawer and burrows into the couch beside your pathetic cocoon. It’s born of burnout rather than heartbreak, but you’re aware of the optics of it all. 

“You’ve been avoiding us,” she says while some hot blonde cries in the confessional on TV. 

“Have not,” you rebut, unceremoniously pulling the tub of ice cream away from her so that she scoops up air instead. “I’ve just been so busy with work. I haven’t even had the time or energy to go grocery shopping, hence the ice cream for dinner.”

Her eyes flicker down to the tub in your hands but she doesn’t say what you’re both thinking. That there’s more to the unconventional supper than just laziness. 

“Come to fireworks this weekend,” she says instead, her motives for the impromptu visit finally becoming clear. “You missed last weekend and yesterday. I’m asking in person so you can’t ignore the group chat message like the last two times.”

“If I say yes will you be quiet and let me watch my show?” you ask. She nods emphatically, apparently proving that she can in fact be silent. Truthfully the festival of lights is a highlight of your summer, and watching the last two shows through other people’s stories isn’t your favorite way to view them. 

“Fine.”

She squeals and throws her arms around you. You want to ask if Quinn will be there, and the look on her face says she’s waiting for you to, but you don’t. 

At the end of the day it doesn’t matter if he’s going to be there or not. Exes or not, he was one of your best friends and will always be a major part of your friend group. There’s no separating the two and the sooner you get over it and everything returns to the way it was before you started dating the better. 

She doesn’t push any further, content to sit alongside you and soak in someone else’s love drama on screen rather than your own. 

“Remember a sweater!” are her parting words to you, notorious for always neglecting one. 

-

You forgot a sweater. 

It’s not until you’re sitting down on the 99 beside an old lady that you realize. You’re already running a little behind schedule and it would double your transit time to head back, so you settle into your seat and hope it doesn’t get too cold later. 

By the time you reach the beach the group is already together, sitting on a couple beach blankets lined up end to end. You spot Quinn’s unruly dark hair before you even realize you’re looking for him. 

“Look who finally showed!” someone says, and you roll your eyes as you drop down on the only spot available, right next to Quinn. 

“I’m at the mercy of Vancouver transit, we all know this.” You’d rather rake your naked body over hot coals and then confess your lingering feelings for the boy beside you in front of everyone you know than waste time in traffic and pay the outrageous inflated parking price on a night of fireworks. 

Quinn doesn’t tease you like the rest of your friends, and you wonder if he’s thinking about how the last time you saw fireworks together he’d driven. Or how he kissed you for the first time after driving you home from a different fireworks show. 

The late afternoon passes by with an impromptu game of frisbee that you don’t partake in—there’s way too many people at the beach for it to be enjoyable and you’re more content to people watch and gossip while picking at the charcuterie spread someone else brought. The active rest of the group seems to reach the same conclusion you had and someone breaks out Uno. 

By the time the sun sets, you’ve considered murdering both your friend to your left and your ex-boyfriend to your right. It’s bad enough you’re walking around with a still broken heart, now they’re ganging up on you with draw four cards and Uno reverses. The group is spared by the darkness making it too hard to play. 

If circumstances were different, Quinn likely would be teasing you about being a sore loser, offering to kiss it better until someone inevitably fake gagged and told you to get a room. 

Instead he’s silent as you turn your back to him in order to face the direction of the show about to start. The sea breeze hits and you can’t hold back your shudder. 

“Did you seriously forget a sweater?” Sienna asks. “I told you.” 

You spin around. “Yeah yeah yeah.”

Quinn is quick to pull off his hoodie, offering it to you with an outstretched hand. “Here.”

It feels too personal, too heavy, too full of implications and so you start to shake your head. “Oh, that’s okay.” 

“You’re literally shivering,” he says. “Take it.” 

It’s warm and soft and smells just like him. As you pull it over your head you’re taken back by just how right it feels. Like if you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend things were different. 

The train of thought is broken by the first firework, and you spin back to watch. 

The fireworks are beautiful and you sit in awe, ‘ooh’ing and ‘ahh’ing along with the crowd around you. 

Someone up ahead stands up to take a photo and Sienna has no problem heckling him. “Sit down!”

They do and you just shake your head at her antics. 

It turns out that sitting on the sand on a blanket isn’t the most comfortable position to be in. Mid way through the show, you find yourself shifting and leaning back to find a better way to situate yourself. In the process you brush your hand against Quinn’s, quickly pulling it back like you’d been burned. 

“Sorry,” you murmur over your shoulder, unsure if the blush coating his cheeks is just your imagination. 

When it’s over, you help everyone pack up and follow the group through the beach, quietly bitching about the sand getting into your sandals. 

Everyone starts splitting up when the sand gives way to pavement. Sienna lives close, within walking distance and she gives you a tight hug and heads off in the direction of her house. 

You’re turning away to start towards the bus stop when Quinn grabs your arm. 

Thinking he wants his sweater back, you begin to pull at the hem but his words have you freezing in place. 

“Do you want a ride home?”

Your place isn’t the exact opposite of his, but it’s also certainly not on his way home. Call it masochism, call it a desire to return to the way things were before you loved and lost, you agree with a quiet ‘yes.’

The walk to his car is quiet, and you resist the urge to ask him how much he paid for parking tonight, not sure you want to break the silence first. 

That silence continues in his car, at least between the two of you. Something soft and acoustic plays through the car speaker as the lights of Kits turn into downtown. 

When you get home, he offers to walk you to your door. Once, it was his way of making sure you got in safe. Then, it was his way of trying to prevent the night from ending. 

Now, you’re not sure of his reasoning. 

You get to the door, and he doesn’t say much more as you unlock it and step in. 

“Do you want to come in?” you find yourself asking despite yourself. 

He hesitates, hands in the pocket of his shorts. It kind of looks like he’s contemplating between stepping inside and running away. 

It makes you angry, that bitter edge of hurt you haven’t quite gotten over yet surfacing. 

“What do you want? You need to use your words, Quinn. Because your actions are confusing me!”

You have a very formulated argument prepared, full of evidence and conflicting actions—the result of hundreds of mini one sided arguments playing in your head since he’s been gone and since he’s been back. Arguments that don’t come to fruition because the look on his face is dangerous. 

He cups your face in his hands and presses his lips solidly to yours. You don’t even have enough time to fall into the kiss before he’s pulling apart. “How’s that for confusing?”

There’s no answer from you, not verbally at least. Just the momentum of you throwing yourself at him, crushing your lips to his. 

Words can wait. 

[thescarletnargacuga]

Maybe a showtime fic where Caine is constantly trying to either propose or confess to Pomni and he is failing miserably each time he tries….things eventually work out in the end…

A/N:awwwwww! Poor Caine lol

WILL YOU MA-

A SHOWTIME ONESHOT

WARNING: none!

~

Caine hovered out of bounds focusing hard on his clasped hands. He wanted to make sure he fabricated it right, it needed to be flawless. His tongue poked out the side as he concentrated. After a few seconds, he opened his hands. A rose gold ring with a single diamond cut ruby rests in his palm. His fist pumped. "Yes!! It came out perfect this time!"

He grinned as he looked over his craftsmanship. This had been his fifteenth attempt at making the ring the way he knew Pomni would like. Simple and symbolic. Like her.

He flicked the ring into the air and snapped. A ring box appeared mid air and caught the ring. "Now, to ask her the million dollar question!" It's only after he says it out loud that it hits him. He was really doing this. He was asking Pomni to marry him. To vow to be his partner forever. He couldn't just ask. No, No, No. It needed to be SPECTACLE! She deserved nothing less, in his mind.

This would require a bit more work. He immediately went to the drawing board for a personalized adventure. He could make it amazing, yet still be sneaky about it, as they did this all the time. He quickly collected the data he needed and zipped away to the circus, where the humans waited for their daily adventure.

~

"Good luck, my wandering warthogs! Enjoy your adventure!" He sent the group off with a wave. Pomni stood behind him.

"So, this is unexpected. You usually tell me a day in advance when you want to go on a private adventure." She rocked on her feet, her hands behind her back.

"I'm feeling spontaneous today!" He snapped and another portal appeared.

Pomni smirked. "That's dangerous."

Caine gave her a winking smile. "Only enough to make things interesting. After you."

Pomni went through the portal to find herself on a quiet grassy hill. A picnic blanket laid on the apex with a bucket of ice and champagne. The night sky shines above with realistic stars, a faded milky way covering from horizon to horizon. Shooting stars occasionally flew by before disappearing into the darkness of space.

"Wow..." She slowly spun as she looked up at the gorgeous sky. "This is unusually calm for you." She arches a brow at Caine as the portal vanished. "You feeling alright?"

"I'm doing fantastic! I just- I wanted to do something a bit more... intentionally romantic. I have a very special surprise for you." The ring box was burning a metaphorical hole in his pocket. His code started to buzz with nerves, but this was no time for stage fright, it was showtime.

They sat close together on the blanket. He kept glancing at her, wanting to see her reaction for what was next. Fireworks rocketed into the sky, exploding into shapes and colors of all kinds.

"OOO!" Pomni smiled broadly and leaned against Caine's shoulder as she enjoyed the show.

Caine put his arm around her, holding her close. This was going much smoother than he had anticipated. He could do this. He could absolutely do this. He reached into his pocket and snuck the box out. It was almost time. He was certain he was going to explode or turn to dust from the amount of nervous buzzing he felt inside. His hand trembled and he tightened his grip on the box.

The fireworks made sparkling letters appear in the sky.

🎆LRWM REU IYAYL OM?🎇

Caine's jaw dropped. "What!? That's not what I-" He stopped himself, the surprise wasn't entirely ruined. He could save this.

Pomni looked at Caine. "What's wrong? What was that?"

"Uh! Nothing! Just some weird words, obviously! Nothing strange about it!" He was sweating. "Let me just, uh-" He fumbles the box. It comes open and the ring falls out, rolling and bouncing down the hill. "CHEESE AND CRACKERS!!" He takes off after it.

"Wha- Caine!?" Pomni stood, watching Caine fly down the hill face first after a small shiny object.

The ring bounced out of every attempt Caine made to grab it like it was avoiding him on purpose. It went into a lake at the bottom of the hill, Caine dove in without hesitation. The ring was swallowed by a large fish. Caine grabbed it by the tail and the fish thrashed him around, trying to get him to let go.

"NOOO! YOU CAN'T HAVE THAT!!" Caine flies straight up, taking the fish with him. He breaches the surface and shakes the fish upside down. "Drop it, you aquatic fiend!!" Eventually, the ring falls from the fish. He drops the fish and quickly catches the ring before it goes back in the water.

He heaves the biggest sigh of relief. "Let's get you back-" The box wasn't in his waterlogged pocket. He left it at the top of the hill. "Oh no! She'll see it! She'll know!!"

"Who'll know what, chief?" Bubble floated to him from the other side of the lake where the fireworks had been launched from.

"You!" Caine pointed an accusing finger. "What was that with the fireworks!? You didn't set them off in the right order!!"

".... Pyrotechnics are hard to handle when you don't have hands." A snide smile on Bubble's face.

"This is why I have to do everything myself..." Caine groaned and popped Bubble. "The ONE time I want to focus all my energy on her and not the world and everything goes bananas." He teleported himself back to Pomni, the water left behind.

Pomni dropped the little ring box in surprise when Caine reappeared. "Oh! There you are. You okay? You took off in a bit of a hurry."

"Yeah..." He clutched the ring in his fist. "I'm fine, there's just been something on my mind lately." He came down to the ground on one knee. "Pomni...you are the most wonderful person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I brought you here because I wanted to ask you..." He took a steadying breath, Pomni's undivided attention never felt so intimidating. "Will you ma-"

"Hey, Boss! I got the next round of fireworks ready! Do you want me to set them off now?" Bubble appeared next to the couple, grinning.

"BE GONE, PARASITE!!" Caine jabbed his finger at Bubble again, popping the knowing nuisance.

Pomni gasped. "Caine...that was harsh."

He groaned and facepalmed. "This was supposed to be perfect." Everything was ruined; the mood, the setting, his plan. "I'm sorry, Pomni. You deserve so much better than this."

Pomni gave a sympathetic smile and held Caine's closed hand. "You're right. I do want more than I'm getting right now..."

Caine internally cringed. He knew it. He messed it up too much. He may as well throw himself into the void right now.

"Caine, will you marry me?"

His eyes bugged out. "Pomni!? You- but I was- I tried- you want to?"

She gently opened his hand, revealing the ring. "Yes, very much so. I'm already happy to be with you, and I would love nothing more to spend the rest of my life calling you mine. So Caine, would you do me the honor of being my husband?"

Caine couldn't help but get emotional. He struggled to form coherent worlds as he was choked up on joy. "Yes, oh yes, Pomni! Nothing would make me happier! Please, allow me..." He slid the ring on Pomni's finger.

Pomni admired the ring for a brief moment before she threw herself happily at Caine, tackling him to the ground and attacking him with kisses.

[romanreignseater]

The Mouth & Finger Vigilante.

Roman Reigns x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: Slight fluff and admiration, which leads straight into a nasty oral session 😁.

“Roman’s fingers and mouth are members of the self-appointed group that solve problems. The problem is being away from his wife without pleasuring her. So, here comes his mouth and fingers to save the day.”

A/N: I wrote this in a single morning 😭. I was dreaming about to be honest. I hope you all love it. Thanks for the support on my last fic.

GIF: @romanreigns

Roman enters the house at 1:14a.m.; after an appearance on Monday Night Raw and a long fight back home; he was exhausted. The three family dogs laid across their beds in the living room, sleeping peacefully. His bag softly thrown to the bench by the front of the door and his shoes put beside it. A sigh leaves his mouth.

He quietly walks up the grand staircase of his multi-million dollar beachfront mansion, and to his left, his children’s bedrooms. Roman opens the door to check on his babies. Then, peddles to the side of their beds to give them each a kiss on their cheeks. The doors close, and his eyes focus to the end of the hallway.

The love of his life, behind those double doors, probably sleeping serene and in his t-shirt. He strides to the doors and opens them.

There she is.

His baby.

His wife.

The mother to his children.

The woman who made him into the man he is today.

And he couldn’t be more grateful.

But, he knows she deprived. His love over FaceTime could only be so much. His love in real life is far more intense. Roman’s been gone for about a week traveling up and down the states promoting WrestleMania 39, and he’s finally arrived back home.

He instantly crawls into the bed beside her and hugs her tightly. She groans as she was awakened by bear-like arms cradling her. “Hey baby.” His smile as big as ever. “Hey! When did you get here?” His love asks with a groggy, yet enthusiastic voice. “About 6 minutes ago, stopped by the kids room first.” She smiles lightly as her eyes begin to flutter closed. “That’s nice.”

He stares at her beautiful glass like skin, as she cuddles up to him more. His eyes once filled with light begin to darken. Her juicy thigh rubs against the top of his. When he remembers all the calls on FaceTime. Her begging and screaming his name, as she wanted the “real thing” back. She missed his touch and he could tell.

He lets go of her and assumes the position on top of her. His baby moves around slightly, when he then pulls the blanket down her body. Just as he knew, his big blue shirt wrapped around her body. Roman gently lifts his shirt to her collarbone, when her breasts became exposed. She twitches for a moment as the cold air from the AC hits her perky nipples. ‘Fuuuuck.’ He thinks to himself. Her tits did look good; good enough to eat.

The Tribal Chief massages her breasts softly as she moaned. He comes up a little bit to suckle her little perky nipples. Roman lapped both of her breasts; covered heavy in his saliva. Her light moans encouraged him to suck a little harder and release. As her perky, wet nipples begin to dry up, he slowly caresses his hands down her slim waist, to her wide hips. Her panties clinged between his fingers as he pulled them down to get to his prized cherry.

She stirs again as the cold air hits her cunt. She stirs once more as Roman lowered his face to her pussy and his hot breath hit it ever so intensely. He begins quickly and licks a bold stripe from her hole to her sensitive clit. “Aaaaaa, that’s good baby.” Her praises make him smirk. He then sops up all her wetness to spread it so viciously around her fat cunt. His tongue flicks up and down her pussy to create more juices.

“Baby.” She moans as her elbows were now propped up and her eyes looking into his. “Eat it baby.” Roman slaps her thigh and she yelps. “Whatchu think I’m doing mama?!” His devilish eyes lowered even more as he continued his abuse on her pussy with his tongue. Her head lolled back against the pillow she was sleeping on, and Roman’s mouth soon consumed the entirety of her cunt. Her clit was sucked and licked so hard, and her legs began to shake.

“Look at me. LOOK AT ME!” He exclaimed.

Her eyes now set on his as sucked the life out of her cunt. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. He shook his head vigorously side-to-side with his tongue laid flat against her pussy. “Ooooohhhhh my GODDDD! DON’T STOP.” Her pussy began to convulse as she reached her high.

Roman licked up all her essence. His nose, chin, and beard smothered in her cum. He wipes his face with the back of his hand and climbs up the bed to his fucked out wife. She panted heavily as her thighs clenched together to stafe off that feeling. He grabs her face and sloppily kisses her; making her taste herself. She regains her breath, and slowly looks up at her man. His stare is cold when he spreads her legs again. His fingers where then placed deep inside the mouth of his wife.

She gagged as Roman shoved his two long digits into her throat. His spit covered fingers traveled down to her clenching hole. “AAAAAA! It’s too much!” She exclaimed as he entered her quickly. His fingers moved at a lightning speed, making the woman underneath him beg him to stop. Her cunt began squirting all over his hand and forearm. The inside of her thighs painted with her liquids and the silk sheets drenched as well.

Roman’s hand comes back up to the surface and he rubs her wetness all over her face. He slaps her lightly as she bits her lip sensually. He squishes her cheeks and spits into her wet mouth. She swallows and pulls her tongue back out to prove she swallowed. He grabs the end of his shirt on her body and wipes her face clean. He lays beside her to spoon her.

“Thank you baby, I missed you so much.” Her voice like music to his ears. “I know baby, I missed you too… But watch out for the morning after I drop the kids off at school.” Her breaths hitches.

“I’m taking you anywhere and everywhere around this house.” He moves his lips closer to her ear, “And I’m not stopping until it’s time to pick the kids up from school.” And with that it was a kiss on the cheek goodnight, but her head only surrounded by two things.

“8:00 a.m.”

Through

“2:30 p.m.”

Don’t we ALL love Roman Reigns?!

THE END!!

*Masterlist coming soon 😛. Also, I want to create a tag-squad; let me know if you’d like to be a part of it!!

[jgroffdaily]

Tom Viola stepped down as executive director of Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS at the end of 2024 after leading the charity for 36 years — but not before he was given a star-studded send-off at the Edison Ballroom on Dec. 16 with performances by Broadway stars Beth Leavel, Lillias White (“Hadestown”), Debra Monk, and Norm Lewis (“Phantom of the Opera”).

The celebration was hosted by Christopher Sieber (“Death Becomes Her”) and there were also remarks from Bebe Neuwirth, Jonathan Groff (“Merrily We Roll Along”), and Broadway Cares board members. (Groff credited Viola as key to his break into the business when he advised the then 19-year-old waiter to volunteer at Broadway Cares and connect with the theater community. Two years later Groff was on Broadway in “Spring Awakening.”)

Viola, a self-effacing leader who, with his staff and volunteers, has raised many millions of dollars for the group’s causes, told the crowd he’s often been urged to run for public office.

“I’d never survive the opposition research!” he said to general laughter.

He pulled out a card he always carries with him to guide his life and work. It reads, “Begin where you are. Do what you can with grace. Move forward in faith. And, most importantly, ask for help.”

Viola said, “Together we have engaged in ways that saved lives, lifted people out of despair, pushed back at stigma, and through it all we had some great, hilarious good times…. Together we can prove that decency is not weakness, that kindness coupled to determined action can create great waves of courage from which will come the change we want to see and be.”

He finished by quoting the great actor Andre de Shields: “Generosity and gratitude are the fuel of the universe.”

[doyouevenlikehaveanagency]

Whew reading that anon post you commented the below on had me like….. damn random online stranger sure knows a lot about this man and his family, yet no one can come out with legit 100% no question proof that this shitshow is real or fake. 😂

“Also the no money saved up is interesting too cause what could he be spending it on? He's not married and he has no kids unless he's really flexing with family and friends.........”

Also I assume people forget those million dollar houses have property taxes and upkeep and bills that have to get paid monthly and if more money is going out than coming in, that could wipe someone’s finances quickly regardless if they have millions.

Based on rumors that he’s selling homes, not sure if true, but it seems like he’s downgrading which would be smart if his bills are too much or cost more than he’s gaining financially. Hate discussing others’ pockets but just trying to prove a point…..hopefully. 😅

Also just because a celebrity seems rich or keeps up appearances doesn’t mean they got it like that, I don’t care what they say. The pandemic showcased that as well as remember….they have people on their team they have to pay, agency dues, family and personal finances, etc it all adds up and could leave anyone broke even after decades of obtaining a huge amount of money.

Would any of you tell billions of people you’re having financial difficulties? You all know how the world and people are and it’s easy to forget these celebrities aren’t just speaking to a small group of people or their fandoms when doing these interviews, it’s the ENTIRE world watching, people have various motives and many are disillusioned to believe celebrity life is easy, it has numerous perks sure but depending on the caliber of celebrity, it’s far from easy, so yes I’d save face and lie to protect myself, my image and privacy too. Got to stay good to keep that money coming in……right. Easy to judge when we’re not in their shoes.

I don’t care who you are, Financial security is a thing of the past, more money more problems. Prices are increasing daily yet pay and salaries aren’t. Yes, as far as we are aware Chris has more resources and opportunities to gain money, but I was also raised to understand….. nothing in life is free and if it’s free on the surface….. ultimately nothing comes “free”, without a price.

Celebs are just regular humans with other humans paid to make them seem above average and beyond human. Don’t ever forget that. 😉

The wizard of oz is just a guy behind a curtain.

I'm not about to count his coins neither but I can believe he doesn't have the money that people think he does. Jim Carrey just said he went back to work cause he needed money. Al Pacino had said similar. It's been rumored that Bruno Mars is in debt to casinos and that's why his appearance fee is so high. Diddy himself said don't believe Forbes cause the money they said he had wasn't true. All these celebs be lying. I have also always believed everytime he shows up with this girl that he's getting paid.

[sunnyie-eve]

25 | Money, Money, Money

Series: Never Leave You | OBX

Paring:(JJ Maybank x OFC! Rafe Cameron x OFC!)

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: feelings conflicted, new self

MASTERLIST

You think it would be hard catching a ride back home to Outer Banks from South America but it wasn't. The Pogues really just slept for like three weeks till they got back. Tess did get the doctor to confess Will paid him to lie so Callie was free from Will and had a restraining order against him. She was also happy to see Callie and JJ were alright.

At the moment Callie was on her way to Tannyhill to see Rafe. As soon as he opened the door seeing her he pulls her into a hug.

"I have some news to share with you." She pulls out of the hug walking inside.

"What is it?" He asks, worried she choose JJ instead of taking time.

"It's about Ward..." She turn to face him.

"What happened?"

"He's dead...for real this time." She watches him sit down, "One of Carlos' men was going to shoot Sarah but he jumped in front of her to save her. He tackled the man off the cliff. He died being a good father." Callie's eyes get glassy, "I'm sorry, Rafe. I even helped Sarah put up a cross for him." Rafe stands up pulling her into a hug to cry so she comforts him.

"He said I was a good boy... I'm in control now. I'm the man. All of it is mine, everything here. That I proved myself... He loves me. He knows I'm a good boy because you see something in me and care for me."

"He's right and I do. At least your last conversion was good. He was finally proud of you. You got what you wanted from him. And thank you for giving my aunt money." Callie rubs his back.

"Of course. That's what friends do. They help each other out." He gives her a squeeze.

Suddenly when it was time for the gold, the group got together to see how much it was all worth. "Twenty pounds. 98.5% gold." The man tells the group.

"That translates to?" John B waits.

"This is money. A whole lot of money." The man tells him so everyone cheers as the two shake hands.

"Moment of truth. All right. Pin is 0000. Enter." John B puts in the pin as the group huddle around an ATM.

"You're kidding me." Callie gives him a look.

"What?"

"Tell me that's a temporary pin." Kie tells him as well.

"I thought nobody could guess." He tries to explain.

"Change that immediately." Pope tells him so he apologizes.

When the receipt comes out John B and JJ fight over the paper to see what the amount was and John B wins to read the amount while everyone looks over his shoulders to see.

"Okay. Our joint account balance... after paying JJ's resignation at 10:04am on Tuesday.."

"Oh come on. Get on with it!" Cleo tells him.

"Our joint account balance is one point one million, seventy-two thousand, five hundred and forty-nine dollars."

"You said mil?" JJ asks.

"Million?" Pope adds.

Everyone celebrates and Callie sees JJ walk off a bit so she goes over to him, "I thought you would be the happiest out of everyone." She leans against the fridge like he was.

"I'm happy."

Callie sighs tilting her head back closing her eyes, "But you're not, JJ." She looks back at him, "I know you well enough."

"I just wish certain things were like I wanted them to be." He gives her a look and she knew exactly what he meant.

She sighs looking away to see Kie looking over at them before looking away, "I wish the same but things happened." She tells him before walking away going outside.

Kiara watches her then walks over to JJ, "Still hasn't forgiven you?"

JJ looks at her, "I don't expect her to yet."

"If she truly loved you should would forget everything." Kie tells him so he leaves going to find Callie but she was no where to be seen.

Callie had walked off going to the nearest way to the beach. While she was walking, Rafe drove by but backed up seeing her, "Hey loser."

"Hey." She gives him a smile but it wasn't her normal smile.

"Where you headed to? I'll give you a ride." He offers so she takes it saying to take her to the beach.

Without saying anything once they get there, she gets out walking towards the water getting in then diving underwater. Rafe gets out rushing over to see what the hell she was doing.

"Relax would you." She laughs as he gets close to her.

"I hardly ever relax."

"Unless you're with me and you are so." She stands up giving him a smile.

"What's up with you?" He asks because she wasn't herself.

"Thinking about things. I love JJ but the more I take time to think... something doesn't feel the same anymore." She tells him, "And I can't figure it out."

"It's that one little broken piece that hasn't been put back with the others." He tells her what he thinks.

"Maybe it is." She agrees with him, "It's like something is holding it back from joining the rest."

Rafe nods his head, "You still just need time to heal and I'm sure he understands that. Your first love hurt you, you know." He tells her so she looks at him nodding her head as well agreeing with him.

When Rafe drops her off at her place, JJ was waiting outside for her. He still hated how close she was to Rafe. Callie automatically knew he wanted to say something as she walks up and Rafe drives off.

"You just vanished earlier."

"I wanted to go to the beach." She tells him truthfully.

"With Rafe?"

"No, I was walking and he drove by and saw me so he offered to drive me there. Why does it bother you? He's a friend." She goes to unlock the door and he follows her inside.

"A friend you've hooked up with and is an asshole."

"Why bring up that first part?" She turns to face him, "It doesn't matter because I'm single. We're still not together, JJ."

"Why is that still?"

"Because I don't know if I want to get back together, honestly. If it happened once how do I know it won't happen again?" She tells him.

"Callie, come on. I never worried about you and Rafe after you hooked up."

"I was single when I did that. You weren't when you wanted to kiss Kie. That's the difference." She tells him. "And those feelings for Kie aren't gone no matter what you tell yourself. I know that because how I have feelings for Rafe still from our time together." She steps forward taking his hands into hers, "I love you, JJ. I do. But I don't want to fear things that might or might not happen. I don't want a relationship with anyone right now so don't assume I'm going to run to Rafe. I just need time alone." She kisses his cheek going towards her room

"So we're done done?" He asks so she sighs.

"Maybe someday we can try again." She goes to her room so he could let himself out.

That whole conversation they had Tess had heard while in the kitchen being quiet so she could ease drop. Once JJ left she goes up to Callie's room to check on her.

"That was a big decision you made down there."

Callie looked over at her, "Yeah, and I stand by what I said. And like you said, I need to focus on myself."

"If that's the case... let's go on a little vacation. You need a getaway. Come on." Tess smiles clapping her hands excitedly.

"Seriously?" Callie laughs.

"Yes, we can leave in the morning. I'm free. Do you have any plans?" Callie shakes her head no so she stars to get things together to leave for tomorrow

The next morning as soon as both were awake they get there things together to leave for who knows how long. They didn't have a plan for anything and were just going with the flow. And after a good amount of months away when they got back home, Callie felt better.

Sadly they went back home for a few days before leaving again because Callie made a mistake by sleeping with Rafe again. She went by to surprise him she was back and they had a bit too much fun drinking.

After of a couple of weeks of trying to forget what happened, Tess and Callie go back home for good. Later the same day they got back, Rafe showed up knocking on the door, "Rafe?" Tess opens the door.

"Seeing you're back that means Callie is too right?" He asks her.

"Yeah, she's up in her room. Come in." Tess lets him in so he goes up to her room knocking on the door.

When she opens it she was surprised to see him just a bit, "Sup?" She lets him into her room and he sees she was changing it up.

"Needing a change?" He asks her, "Your hair is darker." He points out

"Yeah, a change was well needed." She laughs going back to painting her wall.

"Didn't you have the guys names carved here?" He asks pointing at the window.

"Wow, you really payed attention to things. And yes, I did but I fixed it up."

"What's up being more girly this time?" He laughs at her.

"It's not even that girly." She rolls her eyes, "Now what brought you here?“

"My dad's ashes arrived earlier and I put them in the ocean. You said you helped Sarah put up a cross for him but they found him lying at the bottom of a cliff left there."

"I did help but we didn't move his body, Rafe. Again I'm so sorry." She stops to face him so he pulls her into a hug. "Just remember he said he was proud of you because he left." She rubs his back, "I know you really needed that so don't forget that."

Rafe just cries into her for a bit and she didn't mind. She wanted him to let it out. She wanted to be there for a friend.

"Enough of that." He finally pulls back so she wipes his tears away laughing at him. “Why did you leave again after that night?” He ask her.

“I needed to think something’s over but I’m back for good now. Sorry for disappearing on you again.”

"It’s okay. Umm, tomorrow is Kildare Enduro. I'm in it and I believe JJ is as well." He lets her know. Just incase you have no plans." He walks towards her door to leave.

"I'll think about it." She gives him a smile as he leaves.

[cant-get-enough-btr-forever]

"Big Time Battle of the Bands", Chapter 1: Big Time Idea

Summary: When the Palmwoods is on the brink of foreclosure, the boys hold a benefit concert to save it. But they are soon upstaged by a new singing group, found by the nefarious Hawk—Gustavo Rocque's archnemesis. In this battle to represent the Palmwoods, which group will come out on top?

Notes:

1) Some of the scenes were inspired by a movie. Bonus points if you can guess which one.

2) This can be thought of as an alternate episode to "Big Time Superheroes" (season 2). Minus the superheroes.

......

It was a normal Sunday morning at the Palmwoods. The boys of Big Time Rush were lazing by the pool, soaking up the sun. Having just finished a song for their second album, they were elated to finally have some time off.

"Guys," began Kendall, sipping a pink smoothie, "I am eternally grateful to the Palmwoods for giving us a place to unwind after a grueling month of recording. Am I right?"

His friends immediately made noises of agreement. "Yeah, we've got this rad pool all to ourselves..." Carlos exulted.

"...the selection of girls is exceptional..." James said with a grin, raising his shades as a few young ladies walked by.

"...and at night, the location of the pool area makes for excellent planetary observation with a telescope!"

Kendall, Carlos, and James turned to stare at Logan. Logan rolled his eyes. "What? You know, we would all live better lives if we'd sit and stargaze once in a while." The guys shook their heads and continued sipping their smoothies.

Mr. Bitters walked by, carrying a few signs. "Hey, whatcha got there, Mr. Bitters?" Kendall called. Bitters turned to them, glaring.

"If you must know, the Palmwoods has been seeing insufficient funds lately. Unless we get a vast influx of new revenue and/or new talent, we will be forced into imminent foreclosure." Bitters said sullenly. He spun one of the signs around. It said FORECLOSURE in red letters.

Logan violently spat out his smoothie. As he was hacking and spluttering, the other three looked confused. "Uh, could you say that again in English?" Kendall said, holding up a finger. Carlos and James nodded.

Once Logan had finally composed himself, he looked sharply at his perplexed friends. "Guys, don't you get it? The Palmwoods is shutting down!" he cried.

Kendall, James, and Carlos spat out their smoothies.

......

The boys sat in Apartment 2J, looking miserable. Kendall and Logan were slouched on the Orange Sofa in front of the TV, but they weren't paying attention to the show. James was moping in a chair with his head in his hands, and Carlos was reclining on the other end of the sofa. He was dejectedly tossing a ball at the wall and catching it over and over again.

"Okay, we can't just sit around sulking." Kendall declared as he stood up. "We are Big Time Rush, and we do not back away from a challenge! What if this were a hockey game? We would have been benched by now."

"Yeah? Well, guess what, Kendall?" Logan said, frowning up at him. "Instead of a hockey rink, it's a huge business and a huge building. Instead of a puck, it's millions of dollars. You heard Bitters. Unless we somehow bring in tons of money all at once, we are not saving this place."

James moaned pathetically, head still in his hands. "This is it. My glorious life of beautiful ladies and endless supplies of hair products is over." he wailed, slumping dramatically against the La-Z Boy.

Carlos caught his ball and sighed deeply, clutching it close. "No more super-epic cannonballs from the rooftop." He craned his neck to glance over the couch’s back. "And no more Swirly Slide!" he sobbed.

Kendall impatiently shook his head. "Think very carefully. What is our second talent, besides hockey?"

Carlos’ upside-down face looked up. "Ticking off Gustavo?"

Kendall’s lips curved. "Besides that. Singing, guys. And dancing! That's what we do best. All we have to do is hold a fundraising concert to pull in some money and recognition for this place."

Logan's face brightened. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. There are hundreds of residents living here. If we sell tickets to them and the rest of the people in our local community, we could easily raise thousands. And when we go on tour again, we can donate some of the profits."

James and Carlos bounced up, all traces of sadness gone. "We're in!" they chirruped.

Mrs. Knight entered the apartment, carrying groceries. She noticed the guys standing around in the living room. They turned to look at her happily.

She raised an eyebrow. "Okay...what's going on?"

Kendall spoke first. "Mom, we're gonna have a fundraising concert and save the Palmwoods. But we need your help. Do you think you can print enough tickets for every single person in the building, plus a couple hundred people from around town?"

"And some flyers, too?" Carlos added excitedly.

"Ooh, we could give out those paper bracelets with our band name on them!" James piped up.

"Oh yeah, and maybe even—" Logan began.

"Whoa, whoa! Rein 'em in, boys!" Mrs. Knight interrupted, holding up her hands. "Of course I'll help you. Just give me enough time to get all the supplies I need, and we'll have a stack of tickets and flyers so high, you'll be able to live in that."

The boys cheered and high-fived. "Now," sighed Kendall, "comes the fun part."

......

"A what?"

Big Time Rush grinned in front of their alarmed manager, Gustavo Rocque. "Yeah, you heard us. A benefit concert. For the Palmwoods." Kendall stated.

Gustavo blinked. "Two quick questions. Question One: Have you forgotten I'm already busy enough writing songs? You know, for your next album?" He vehemently gestured to the scattered papers in front of him.

"If I don't get these songs done by the end of the month, guess who I'll have to answer to? Griffin. Which brings me to Question Two: Why are you even here? I gave you a day off so I would have more time to find sponsors, mix recordings, and hire a better mastering engineer. FOR YOUR NEXT ALBUM!” They jumped at his outburst.

“So you dogs just scamper back off and enjoy your last days at the Palmwoods while you still can, and quit bothering me with your 'great ideas.'” Gustavo finished bluntly.

Kelly was standing by with a translucent binder. She’d been listening carefully. “No, hold on, this is great. We could really use the extra promotion to get those sponsors.” she told him.

Through tinted shades, his eyes narrowed. "Oh, really?"

"You know Griffin. All he cares about is money. He doesn't care how he gets it, as long as he gets it. When he realizes how profitable this’ll be, he'll take over concert preparations in a heartbeat. Besides, it’s all for a good cause." she reasoned.

"And you will look even cooler in his eyes." Kendall added.

"Right! I mean, how awesome of a guy are you to come up with an idea like this, and let him in on the action?" James chimed in.

Gustavo's eyes darted across the eager faces. "NO." he finally shouted. The guys hung their heads, groaning.

A tinkling ring sounded from Kelly’s pocket. She fished out her cell and promptly answered, “Rocque Records.” In the next silent seconds that elapsed, her expression grew wearier and wearier. After closing her eyes for the briefest of moments, she concealed her aggravation behind a dutiful chirp: “Of course, sir. I’ll be sure to let him know.”

She hung up and exhaled deeply. "That was Griffin. He wants to see something ‘fresh and new’ by Friday, or he's cutting your pay in half for the month."

The group slowly turned their heads back to Gustavo. 'I told you so' was written all over their faces. He blew out an exasperated sigh. "Alright, you win." he grumbled. They immediately gave whoops of delight.

Kendall patted his sulking boss' shoulder. "Don't you worry about a thing, Gustavo. I mean, come on. What's the worst that could happen? Some evil villain's gonna swoop in and ruin a charity event?" he chuckled. The other three laughed with him.

[x-v4mp3y3lin3r-x]

An Archive of One's Own: A Dramatic Essay on Fanfic, New Beginnings, and The Original "Proshippers"

warning: there's going to be talk of "problematic" things, smut, etc, but nothing graphic. this is fandom meta.

If you've been using AO3 for a while then, whether you realize it or not, there's a chance you've come across a user named astolat. With over 500 fics in dozens of fandoms, I'd be more surprised if you hadn't run across at least one of her fics.

Wait, wait, I'm getting ahead of myself! First, let me set the scene: It's 2007. In the past 7 years there have been a slew of authors and publishing companies suing fanfiction authors, suing fanfic archives, and demanding that fans stop "violating copyright" by posting fanfiction. Fanfiction.net is a common target, and in 2002 the site cedes to the demands in the hopes of saving their own ass, promptly banning and removing all NC-17 works from the site without notifying authors. There's a list of authors who request than any fics based on their works are permanently deleted. That list still exists on Fanfiction.net's guidelines page to this day.

This isn't the only form of censorship that's swept the fannish community. Fandom-specific fic communities (either with custom domains like the Harry Potter fansite FictionAlley, or hosted on sites like Livejournal, Dreamwidth, even Mibba) and multifandom fanfiction archive sites (Fanfiction.net, SlashFanfiction.com, FANlib, FanDomination) each have their own guidelines, with certain groups outright banning "slash," aka male/male works, or "femslash," aka female/female works. Some groups allow smut, and some groups take a vehement stance against the perversity. A few sites take a stand against RPF/Real Person Fiction; One site, FanDomination, even gets a cease & desist letter from a baseball player over a fic, which scares FanDomination and Fanfiction.net into banning RPF.

So the conversations arise: How do we create a space where people are free to post the fanfic that they want, and readers are free to enjoy it, without fear of harassment? A conversation starts brewing on Dreamwidth.

But first, enter: Chris Williams, Craig Singer, and David Williams, with a 3 million dollar investment in a writing site that would become FANlib— A commercial, multifandom fic-publishing platform where Intellectual Property holders could license their Property to the site, legally allowing fans to post fanfiction for the IP that FANlib has licensing deals with. On May 18th (barely one day after Astolat's "An Archive of One's Own") 2007, their site launches thanks to investment backing and a licensing deal with the show The L Word.

Right after the FANlib annoncement, Livejournal user Casperanza posts, "Dear Fandom: Can You Stop Saying that?" A rant about about the long-winded fandom discourse on the legality of fanfic, a direct response to FANlib's concept of 'legal fanfiction.'

"I keep hearing fans say that they themselves think fanfiction is an illegal/infringing activity, and I don't think that it is. There's been no legal ruling that says that it is (and in fact, quite the opposite: whenever unauthorized literary rewrites or retellings have gone to court, they've been declared transformative, and these were for-profit works, not even our not-for-profit pleasure zone.) I think when/if fanfiction goes to court--if it ever does, which I don't think it will--it will be declared to be transformative."

One comment on that post, from user Lamardeuse, reads:

"I'm so glad to have you on my flist to keep me up to date with the latest trends in fandom, because I totally missed the memo on this FanLib thing. And my god, ‶The launch of FanLib.com represents the coming of age of fan fiction, or "fanfic."″ Give me an effing break - wow, now we can finally achieve puberty because male-dominated corporate America has figured out a way to line their pockets through fanfic! I can feel myself finally becoming a woman."

Fans aren't happy with the commercialization of fic— they firmly believe that fic is not a job to earn money off of, and that the non-profit status of fic is what keeps it legal. They don't like that these corporate tech bros are attempting to rebrand fanfic as appealing to IP Holders, the people that were suing fanfic authors not even 5 years ago.

FANlib launches, and a year later it closes after being purchased by Disney and shut down. Many people shared their commentary on the closure, including Laura Hale/Partly_bouncy (who worked for FANlib briefly, and wrote an expose a year after the site opened) and Stewardess, who said,

""FanLib does not think of itself as a fanfiction archive." Then what is FanLib? A naked advertising agency wearing a fanfiction archive suit? Yes."

It's clear by this point (March 2008) that fans, even the ones who have been involved in the conversations about the Archive of Our Own, are skeptical of fanfiction archives at best, and utterly vicious towards them at worst. So why did they embrace AO3?

May 17th, 2007, Astolat posts a blog to Dreamwidth and Livejournal, titled "An Archive of One's Own."

She lays the terms out clear: Fans need an archive that doesn't exploit their work, doesn't censor them, and has a clear legal standing.

"I think the necessary features would include:

The fans quickly assembled. Experienced coders began giving advice on how to build the site, ideas for features to implement, discussions on whether the site should host ads, how the tagging and warnings system should function. People were quick to bring up Fanfiction.net as an example of how multifandom archives tend to be crushed under the weight of their own "success." In that comment, user Caitie expresses the need for some kind of broad content warning to stand between minors and adult fics, which would grow to become the iconic consent dialogue that the Archive is known for today.

This blog by Xenacryst compiles those conversations and a few others.

When asked how she intended to find a userbase, Astolat responded,

"if we build it we will come Like I said to harriet_spy above talking about ff.net -- I do think in this case, if *WE* build it, *WE* will come. FF.net was bad in a whole host of ways even before they banned adult material (great way to BAN ADULTS, and drive the quality downward) -- bad searching, overwhelming signal to noise ratio, no real philosophy or connection to the community. (ff.net is ALSO run for advertising -- I suspect by now they are absolutely making a profit, although I find them less obnoxious than the fanlib people because they didn't deliberately start out that way.) They don't know how to make it a place where most of us want to be, and so of course they end up with the people who can't find something better."

One of the main points made by Astolat during these early conversations was that women should be represented in this archive. A lot of this group supported the idea of making a fanfic space that was suited towards women, since FANlib and Fanfiction.net were both run by men. User Aesvir commented,

"Definitely a cool idea. I'm not much of a feminist, but seeing a group of men try to take over what has been a comfort zone for women to express themselves is really disgusting. I don't know any coding, but would love to have a Paypal subscription!"

When user Tienriu asked how Astolat intended to broach the concept of "chan," a term describing writings of underage sex, and the different laws in each country, Astolat responded,

"I don't like chan myself. But in a way, that makes me more rather than less leery of tossing it -- because a lot of times we are happy to find excuses to block out the stuff we don't like, even when there is not all that compelling a legal argument. I don't know the law even in the US on it, and so can't really talk about that specifically in the absence of good concrete data (no offense -- but I am by default always skeptical about being cited fragments of horror-story test cases. I would want to see the text of the law and the actual decision, and ideally have it explained to me by a knowledgable lawyer). Hypothetically, it is certainly possible that investigation (which I am all for having done) would show that this one particular category added so much additional legal jeopardy that it was not worth the risk of hosting it. However, we have to keep in mind that there are also many legality arguments to be made against many other categories (RPF, nc-17, etc), if we consider all the countries where readers may be located. Also we would have to figure out just what the legal boundaries of the disproportionately risky category was -- I think of chan as "adult-minor" relationships; there is also the question of stories about kids having relationships among themselves, the distinction between older/younger kids, explicit stories vs. G/PG rated ones etc. On a practical level, the archive would want to ask authors to extensively label their stories anyway, for searching/sorting purposes, so it would be easy to create searches where individual users could avoid seeing any particular category of stories that might be illegal in their own country. It would also be good if people could set preferences in their profile so they automatically weren't shown stories of any particular types they just didn't want to see at all (hey, maybe we can get rid of pairing wars while we are at it! we can only dream *g*). The archive and the nonprofit running it clearly should be set up in a country with less restrictive laws, and which does not make site owners liable for content posted by users."

The rules of the site have started to become clearer: On the Archive, no one will be subjected to censorship based on one person's "ick."

There's even a thread started about how the categories/warnings (taxonomy) should be implemented. Some users dislike the idea of being forced to restrain their works to pre-defined labels. Astolat responds,

"I don't see why we can't have both! A fluid tagging system layered on top of a fixed taxonomy would imo be ideal and provide a lot of this added flexibility. I do think that for an archive on this scale, a base-level fixed taxonomy is critical for ensuring readers can get to a manageable base set of stories to consider reading. Imperfect, yes, but it's like democracy: the worst system except for all the others. I would suggest having "caveat lector" and "deliberately uncategorized" options in this taxonomy, so people could choose to keep their stories out of the categories. Readers can then choose whether they want to see those stories listed, based on whether they are in a sort of casual browsing frame of mind or whether they are looking for something very specific"

Thus setting the grounds for the current Archive tagging/warning system, where there are canonical (filterable) tags and warnings that authors can choose to use, the option to write custom warnings and tags, or the option to forgo warnings and tags altogether— Such is every user's right, defined by the Archive Terms of Service.

How did the other multifandom archives react to this display of fannish community?

Well, one of the FanDomination founders decided to throw his 2 unwanted cents into the ring. I'm not going to bore you with his whole rant, because he's a wildly misogynistic bully, and because he spends most of the comment talking about shit that doesn't matter. But here's an excerpt anyways:

"Why does a fic reader/writer need to be on thier board at all? Do they have an investment in the operation? Also, why would there HAVE to be a female on the board? That seems pretty sexist to me to REQUIRE one to be 'legitimate'. Are you saying that males are incapable of truly understanding the nature and intricacies of fandom? Sounds like a bunch of feminazi horseshit to me. -The Great Me of the Saturn Necklace, Jim."

.... Yeah. Okay, Jim.

Safe to say the other archives are a little jealous, and the project of AO3 hasn't even begun yet.

In 2009 the Archive entered open beta, welcoming all kinds of fans. By the time closed beta ended and open beta started, they'd amassed 668 fandoms; Some created during the closed beta include Supernatural, Bandom, American Idol RPF, Stargate, and Buffy The Vampire Slayer.

As an Adam Lambert fan of the past decade, I'm most interested in the American Idol RPF section of the site, because as of February 2010, there were 369 American Idol RPF fics on the site, and 201 fics on the site tagged with Adam, which was over 100 more fics than any other character in the American Idol RPF category besides Kris Allen with 165 fics. Kris and Adam's pairing tag had 175 uses. Astolat herself has written 40 Kradam fics, some of which I happen to enjoy.

But it just goes to show that Astolat was right: "If we build it, we will come." The Archive had no issue finding users seeking refuge from censorship and banning, and RPF communities were no exception. There were 286 My Chemical Romance fanfics as of that same time, and thousands upon thousands of fics for bigger fandoms like Stargate and Harry Potter. 409 Harry Potter fics were tagged as M/M, more than any other relationship category, and a truly astounding number considering the Harry Potter fandom's history of censoring slash shippers.

The most popular Supernatural pairing at the time? Wincest. There were over 240 Dean/Sam fics, and a meager 64 Destiel (Dean/Cas) fics, in comparison. It's not particularly shocking if you know that Astolat herself wrote about Wincest a lot.

Back in modern day, fandom spaces are once again overrun with 'concerns' of "degeneracy," leading some naive fandomgoers to beg or demand that the Archive get rid of the maximum content inclusivity— the reason the Archive of Our Own was even created, the principles that it has stood on since it was merely a thought in Astolat's head— and instead acquiesce to censorship, in the manner of Moms for Liberty.

This is not an essay to argue the morality of fiction. This is an essay about why the Archive was created. What the Archive of Our Own stands for is an effort to create a place by readers, for readers, where authors wouldn't have their fics and accounts deleted just because the moderators spontaneously decided to change the site rules, and where the site could curate a legal team to defend itself and it's users from unjust cease & desist letters.

I have no conclusion for this part, but I'm going to curb myself here, because this is already so long. Maybe I'll do a part 2 later, so I can cover the more recent years? We'll see.

disclaimer: I volunteer for the AO3/OTW, but my opinions are solely my own. I am not speaking on behalf of the org. [I'm obligated to disclose this.]

[autisticsupervillain]

Complete Monster Write-Up: Reza Zaydan

What's the Work?

Hitman is stealth action game franchise following the adventures of the world's greatest assassin, Agent 47. The World of Assassination Trilogy is the latest entry in the series as of now, with its third main story mission having two targets for 47 to bring down: Carl Strandberg and today's candidate Reza Zaydan.

Who's the Candidate? What have they done?

Reza Zaydan is a general in the Moroccan Army, known amongst his peers more for womanizing and social skills than for any actual military victory. A classic nepotism baby, Zaydan is always looking to get more power and is willing to sink to any low to get it if it means upstaging the rest of his highly successful family.

Willingly signing up with an international secret society called Providence, Zaydan agreed to become their Puppet King if they aided him in taking over Morroco. To this end, he hatched a plan with banker Claus Strandberg to initiate a military coup. When Strandberg gets caught steeling millions of dollars from the Moroccan public, Zaydan hires mercenaries to break him out of jail, leaving countless innocents and security personnel dead in their wake. This sparks a public outcry that causes riots all across Marrakesh, which Zaydan hopes he can use to justify a full on military coup, painting the Moroccan government as weak and incompetent to his fellow commanders for their inability to handle the riots so they'll join him in uprising.

To further fuel the flames, Zaydan has his people spread propaganda for the terrorist organization Crystal Dawn, hoping to use their supposed involvement to spark massive violent riots across all the most populated cities in Morroco. Once the dust is settled, Zaydan shamelessly admits he plans to have these false flag operatives executed so they can't contradict the narrative he's created.

When one of Zaydan's closest lieutenants and friends learns that his brother died in the Strandberg prison break, he threatens to go public with the truth behind the coup. Zaydan rewards this treachery by have him captured and tortured with advanced interrogation techniques, smugly taunting him about his dead brother in between rounds of torture. Out on the streets, Zaydan's soldiers have innocent people thrown out of their houses and workplaces to convert them to military bases for the upcoming coup, with one store owner in particular being threatened at gun point and told his family will be shot if he does not cooperate. Zaydan has turned the public school into his personal base for the coup this way, forcing the headmaster to live with a relative nearby as he now has nowhere else to go since he cannot work.

Desiring nothing more than to dominate his own country, Zaydan smugly admits that once all is said and done, he plans to throw Strandberg from a plane once he's no longer needed, happy to kill anyone who gets in his way of conquering Morroco.

Thankfully, Agent 47 is brought in to put a stop to this violent insurrection, eliminating both Zaydan and Strandberg before any further damage can be done.

Mitigating Factors?

Nothing concretely redeeming at any rate. Zaydan comes from a large, wealthy family and its suggested that this is what fuels his lust for power, but he never mentions them and no redeeming care or fondness is implied. Zaydan is not popular amongst his own troops, with many badmouthing him behind his back for being a cowardly nepo baby. Several of his own troops express disgust for his fondness for torture and his orders to shoot civilians, with him childishly blowing up at any he hears criticize him. While Zaydan gets on better with his lieutenants, he's happy to throw them to the wolves when betrayed, as discussed above. If directly confronted by 47, he'll even flee to save his own life, leaving all his troops, loyal or not, for dead.

He's not even liked by his girlfriends. One spy working for international terrorist group IAGO mentions that she hates him so much that she's considering quiting just so she won't have to keep dating him.

The biggest concern is being played seriously. There's an Easter Egg in which, if every soldier in the building is dismissed, Zaydan will start dancing a silly dance to goofy disco music. That said, this isn't canon. It's a silly easter egg with no baring or context in the plot and shouldn't be taken against Zaydan's canon actions.

The other issue is Zaydan's potential death, where 47 can drop a toilet on his head from the floor above while he whines about his soldiers disrespecting him. This is his only silly moment in canon, though, and its not enough to detract from how dead straight his atrocities are played otherwise.

Heinous Standard

Hitman's heinous standard is jacked. Just in the WOA Trilogy alone, we have a terrorist organization that got a diplomat and his family killed by leaking classified flight plans, an organ harvester who experiments on the homeless to create mind control technology, and a cult hellbent on spreading an apocalyptic plague around the world.

That said, Zaydan is the most heinous villain in his niche. The latter above examples are CMs in their own right with backing from large, international organizations. Zaydan is ultimately a small cog in Providence's large design whose mostly content just subjugating his own country. As far as dictators whose scope is limited to just their country go? Zaydan is easily the worst.

All the other dictators in the franchise that 47 goes after are all already retired by the time he gets to them, so their crimes are offhandedly described in conversation and mission briefings. Nothing they do goes quite so far in scope and attempted body count as Zaydan does. We see, in gameplay, most of his atrocities play out in front of us. Civilians forced from their homes, a whistle-blower tortures, a riot in the verge of bloodshed that Zaydan plans to spread to major cities all around the country, putting the pieces in place to justify gunning down thousands of innocent civilians to secure his rise to power. Yeah, I think he's bad enough by a hair or two.

Conclusion

He's got a yes from me. I think he just clinches it.

[jareaulover]

If I Can't Have You (Hotchreid fanfic, Chapter 1)

Description: Spencer Reid left the BAU after Gideon. He just didn't want to be there without his mentor, and everyone was very understanding. Even the BAU's Unit Chief, who Spencer had been having sex with, was understanding of his situation. Years later, the BAU is called to help on a case in Las Vegas, one that... involves their former colleague. Stakes are high, but will Aaron and Spencer let their feelings get in the way, or will they ignore them all together. That's the million dollar question. ~~ This is heavily canon divergent. Spencer left the BAU in season 3, right after Gideon, so a lot of things that should've happened didn't. Also Hayley and Jack don't exist... Also, technically Alex Blake should be there, but I really wanted to include Emily and Tara, so as much as I love her, I swapped her.

Notes: Did I take my title from a Shawn Mendes Song? Yes Does it really have much to do with the story? No But I figured there's gonna be a lot of pining and trying to decide whether or not to be in a relationship and i just love the line "Everything Means Nothing If I can't Have You" so...

Warnings: A main aspect of this story is the case that they are working, so there will be talk of murder, kidnapping, sexual assault, and things of that nature, so please be warned. There might be smut in later chapters, but I haven't decided yet.

Full Chapter is below the cut

or

Read on AO3

Spencer folded the letter that he had received from his mentor and pushed it into his messenger bag. He was sitting at his desk, reading and re-reading the letter over and over. He decided to put it away, finally, after the 7th time through. He’d already memorized it and he had just made his decision. He pulled out a pad of paper from his desk and began to write his own letter of resignation. He tried not to think about the others… The group of profilers who would be devastated that he was leaving, especially since Gideon had just left.

He especially tried not to think about the BAU Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner. He and Aaron had been having a physical relationship the past two years. It was completely unexpected, but oh so passionate. Spencer supposed another reason that he was leaving was because he had started to grow feelings for his boss and he knew that the older man would never feel the same way. He ripped the page out and headed to Aaron’s office.

---

Aaron was sitting at his desk, filling out some paperwork from their last case. Everything had gone pretty smoothly, they had saved the child who had been snatched and luckily they had done so before any harm could come to the child. He was happy that they’d had one with a good ending after so many losses. He had just signed the bottom of the last page when there was a knock on his office door.

“Sir, we have another one.” The BAU’s technical analyst said, peeking her head into the office, “And it's a bad one…” She sighed. Aaron nodded.

“Call everyone back. We’ll gather at the round table in 20.” He said. Garcia nodded and scurried away. Aaron leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. He picked up his phone to check the case that Garcia had seen before him and looked over the files in the tiny screen of his phone. 

---

“So, we have three male victims. COD on all was exsanguination following a series of stab wounds in the abdomen.” Garcia explained, her disgust visible on her face.

“All of them were laid out with their hands folded over their abdomens, face up.” JJ pointed out.

“And they were cleaned and changed into the same white button up with khakis… They almost look ready for their funeral.” Emily said, flipping to look at all the crime scene photos.

“Yes. Each man was taken on a Monday afternoon and all were found the next Monday in the same place they were taken from” Aaron explained, “He then waits another week before taking another. We have only a few hours until he takes another victim. Wheels up in 30.” He said, standing and leaving the room. The others were quick to follow.

“Looks like we’re going to Las Vegas.” JJ teased Emily, bumping the other agent's shoulder. Emily raised her eyebrows at JJ.

“Maybe after the case we’ll get some time to play.” Emily teased right back. JJ smirked and grabbed her go bag. Emily picked up hers and they made their way to the elevators.

“So, will you be meeting up with the former agent that you told me about? Didn’t you say that he moved to Las Vegas?” Dave said, standing in the doorway of Aaron’s office. Aaron raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, he did move to Las Vegas but… I’m not going to see him, I mean… That was a long time ago.” Aaron said, looking at his tablet. He was looking at the photos of the victims and the medical examiner’s reports for the first two.

“Come on, you told me that you had a lot of unresolved feelings and this could be your chance to resolve them.” Dave stated, suggestively. Aaron kept his face hard.

“Maybe, maybe, I will call him.” Aaron spoke, putting a lot of emphasis on the second maybe, “I’m not making any promises.”

---

Aaron was preparing to go home, grabbing all of his personal items and shoving them into his briefcase. He was exhausted and ready to be home. As soon as he got his stuff together, there were three quiet knocks on the door of his office.

“Come in.” He said. The door opened and Spencer was there. He looked as if he was ready to get home as well. His jacket was on and he had his bag over his shoulder. His hair was in the familiar slicked back style, but a few strands had fallen in front of his face. Aaron felt his knees weaken just looking at the attractive man in front of him, “You’re still here? I thought you’d gone home.” 

“Yeah, uh, can we talk?” Spencer said, that’s when Aaron realized how nervous he looked. His fingers were drumming quickly on the strap of the bag and his eyes were darting, never looking directly at Aaron.

“Of course, is something wrong?” Aaron asked, his face turning more serious. He knew that the man was still hurt by Gideon’s departure, but he never expected to hear what Spencer said next.

“This is my letter of resignation. It’s effective immediately.” Spencer said, sitting the paper on his desk, “Here’s my gun and my badge.” He set them down next to the letter. Aaron looked at Spencer in disbelief.

---

Once on the jet, the team began talking about victimology. All the men had a similar appearance, so they figured that they were surrogates for the person the unsub truly wanted to kill. 

“Well, stabbing is typically a replacement for sexual penetration. Was there any sign of sexual assault on any of the victims?” Lewis asked. From the screen, Garcia responded.

“No signs of… that on the first two victims… The ME is still examining the latest victim.” Garcia explained.

“Well, that could mean that he’s impotent.” Rossi said.

“Okay, when we land I want Prentiss and Morgan at the latest crime scene. JJ and Rossi go to the medical examiner’s office and Lewis, you and I will set up at the local PD.” Aaron said, sitting back in his seat. The rest of the team nodded. JJ got up and moved to the back of the plane, clicking on the contact labeled ‘Spencer Reid’. The line rang twice and then a voice…

“Hello.” The man on the other end spoke softly. 

“Hey, Spence, I was just calling to let you know that we’re heading to Las Vegas for a case… Maybe after that we can get breakfast or something.” JJ said.She heard some shuffling.

“Yeah, I’d like that, JJ. Actually, I’m the one that suggested they call you guys. I’ve been consulting on the case.” Spencer told her.

“Oh, it’ll be great to work with you again.” JJ said while grabbing a water bottle out of the mini fridge.

“Yeah, I’m excited to see you guys.” Spencer said, “Listen, my class is starting so I have to get off the phone, but I’ll see you when you land.” the phone call cut off before JJ could respond. She made her way back to her seat.

“Well, I just talked to Spence and he said that he’s consulting on this case.” JJ said, “He said that he was the one to suggest that they call us.” 

“So we get to work with the boy wonder again?” Emily said, “I’m glad, I’ve missed him.”

“I think we all have.” Derek pointed out, “I was sad that he left, but I get it. Gideon was his mentor and it really hurt him when he left.”

“I can’t wait to meet Dr. Spencer Reid. I’ve heard so much about him and I think I’m the only one who hasn’t met him.” Tara said,

“He left before I joined as well.” Rossi said, “So I haven’t met the kid yet, either.” Rossi looked over at Aaron, but the man didn’t even glance.

“It will be nice to catch up, but remember we’re also working a case.” Hotch said. The others nodded and continued going over the case files. Rossi finally looked away form Hotch and back to his case files.

---

Aaron entered the local police station accompanied by Dr. Tara Lewis. The Captain met them at the door.

“You must be… Agent Hotchner.” He said, “I’m Captain Smith.” He said, offering his hand. Aaron shook the man’s hand.

“Yes, I’m Agent Aaron Hotchner and this is Dr. Tara Lewis.” He said. The Captain shook Tara’s hand.

“We’ve got you guys set up in the conference room back here. Dr. Reid set it up.” He said.

“Is he here?” Aaron asked.

“Yes, he’s setting up the evidence board you guys requested. Honestly, we’ve been stuck with this case and when he suggested calling up his old team I was definitely willing.” He said.

“It's a good thing you called us.” Tara said, “We believe that he will take another victim sometimes today if he hasn’t already. Has anyone been reported missing in the comfort zone?” The three approached the door to the conference room. The Captain opened the door and there was Spencer Reid, hanging another picture on the board.

“The lieutenant just informed me that there’s been another abduction. His name is Arthur Skinner.” Spencer started, “He was last seen in the lobby of the hotel he was staying at. Someone said they saw another man come up to him but they couldn’t give a description. We should try a cognitive.” Aaron watched the Doctor talk, he suddenly found himself distracted by the way Reid’s hair fell into his eyes, followed by Reid’s hands moving the hair away from his face.

“Ready to get going?” Tara said, looking at Aaron now.

“Oh, yes. Let's go… Reid, are you coming?” Aaron asked. He set his briefcase on the table and waited for the Doctor’s response.

“No, I’m going to stay and work on a geographical profile.” Reid said. He glanced up from the map he had just spread across the table and caught Aaron’s eye right before the man left the room. Reid gripped the pen in his hand and looked back down at his map.

---

“Are you sure?” Aaron asked, “I know that Gideon leaving has been hard on you, but you’re an asset to this team.” 

“I’ve been offered a position as a professor at a University close to Las Vegas… My mother has been getting worse and I just need to be close to her.” Reid told his boss matter of factly.

“I understand, Reid. I’m sorry to see you go.” Aaron glanced at the stack of files that had been piling up recently. Reid followed his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Hotch… I know it's going to be difficult for a bit, but I know you guys will find someone to take my place.” Spencer reached across the desk, resting his hand on Hotch’s own folded hands. Spencer wasn’t usually one for touching, but it was different with Aaron. Spencer tried not to think about the fact that he wanted nothing more than to kiss the older Agent, but he couldn’t allow himself to do that.

“You’re going to be a great Professor, Spencer.” Aaron told him. Spencer smiled, his beautiful, shining smile. Aaron wanted to pull him in and kiss him, but he knew he couldn’t.

“Thank you, Aaron.” He said, standing up and exiting Aaron’s office. Aaron sighed and leaned back in his chair. He hadn’t thought about it much, but he knew his feelings for the younger man had gotten to be… Almost too much. Maybe now he could get them to subside.

Next Chapter

[purplesurveys]

1844

What did you have for dinner tonight?: It's only 10 AM, but last night we went to Solaire to watch Miss Saigon and we went with an Asian spread. I got bao, rice paper rolls, and pad thai.

If you were given a million dollars, what would you spend it on? I'd keep a good portion of it as savings and not touch it until I'm like, 65; the rest I would give to my parents.

Have you ever cried in front of your parents over a boyfriend or girlfriend?: Nope.

What does your bedroom smell like right now?: Like coffee, I'm guessing.

Have you ever shaved off your eyebrow before?: I've never done that but I did have trichotillomania growing up so I had phases where I was missing chunks of my eyebrows.

Do you want to have a boy or girl whenever you have kids?: Girl.

Your pregnant with twins: What do you name them?: Definitely not similar names like Kaye and Kate as it would only make me more confused haha.

Describe your outfit.: Only in loungewear today as I'm at home, but last night I had on a dark green halter dress that went down to a bit above my knees. It also had a slit on the left leg side. I wore black heels and a small black shoulder bag as well.

What gigabyte is your memory card?: I haven't had a hard drive since high school, even though I know I really should invest in one.

What brand is your digital camera?: I don't own a digicam but damn if those things aren't seeing a resurgence lately. I might be the only one in my age group left who still doesn't have one.

When was the last time you hung out with your best friend?: Angela came over last month just to hang out and have some heart to hearts here and there.

What is a movie you're waiting to see?: I've been meaning to watch The Iron Claw. It's not all the time that a movie centered around wrestling gets to be produced and becomes critically-acclaimed at that, so I'm looking forward to seeing it.

Who was the last person to cook something for you?: Apart from the crew at Solaire lol, my mom.

Do you ever sit and think what if about something?: Sure, I think it's inevitable to come across those thoughts every now and then.

If so, what is it?: It's always very different. Like what if we're one of those families able to migrate, what if Kimi was still alive, what if I chose to be a journalist...there's a million scenarios with a million possibilities and how actively my mind runs I could be thinking about anything.

What’s on tv right now?: My own TV isn't it but I know my sister is watching some streamer play video games in the living room TV.

Do you ever stop and smell the roses?: Sure, if I remember to.

Where do you download music from?: I listen to music on Spotify but never download cause it'd take up so much storage if I were to download all the albums I like.

How many channels do you have on your tv?: Don't really throw around the word 'channels' anymore, but as for apps we have subscriptions to and regularly use it'd be Netflix, YouTube, Disney+, Prime, Apple TV, and quite recently this local sports channel since it's the only one in the country that airs WWE live.

What are you most scared of?: Getting cancer or dementia. < This, but these circumstances happening to my family. I honestly don't think I'd care as much if it happened to me.

If you were given a chance to bring someone back to life, who would you choose?: No one. If it's their time, it's their time; and I don't want to fuck around with grief.

Do you talk to any of your ex boyfriend/girlfriend?: Nope.

If so, which one?:

What is your mom doing right now?: I think she's on her phone just reliving our Miss Saigon experience last night haha. I'm glad she really enjoyed it! She watched the 2000 Manila tour – it was still Lea Salonga playing Kim - and I call out Lea cause she set such a high standard for Kim; and it made me worried that her Gen X self might end up simply comparing the 2024 show to what she watched 24 years ago.

I was happy and relieved it wasn't the case and she had so much fun. As for me my soft spot was hit all evening knowing that she originally watched with my dad, and now she got to watch the play with her three kids.

Are you currently listening to music?: I'm not.

What is the weather like right now?: I mean it's your typical weather in the Philippines in April. Approaching 40C, humid, uncomfortably and nearly painfully hot.

Do you like new music or older music?: I think it's a good mix.

Do you agree that abortion is wrong?: No.

If you could make a law, what would kind of law would you make?: I just wanted to get rid of e-bikes on highways but the government has already been on that so yay hahaha.

What was the last video game you played?: Mario Kart 8 on the Switch.

What is currently going on in the room you're in right now?: Apart from me taking this, noting.

Do you know where your best friend is?: I'm almost certain she is at home as it is still quite early.

Who was the last person to comment you on Facebook?: Angela, I think.

What is your display picture of on Facebook?: Me posing in front of the Impact Arena in Bangkok a few hours before Yoongi's concert.

Do you ever sit and think about the past?: Just occasionally.

If you could relive any moment in time: what would it be?: Let's go with a recent memory – Wrestlemania Sunday with 200 Cody-crazed fans watching the ref count to three.

Are you a talker or a listener?: Listener.

What is one food you will not eat?: Mango.

Do you eat anything now that you never used to eat?: Curry and wasabi.

Have you ever kissed the same sex?: Yes.

When does school start this year?: Haven't been in school since 2020.

What genre of music do you refuse to listen to?: Country. Which is why it's taking me forever to take on Cowboy Carter hahaha.

Do you ever shout for absolutely no reason?: I don't think so. If I scream it's always for a reason lol.

Have you stuck with your new years resolution?: I don't make em.

Do you need to lose any weight right now?: No. If anything I need to gain some. I was well under 100lbs at my last physical exam and the nurses also told me I had low blood pressure which had to do with my weight, so it might be healthiest to gain a few pounds.

What is something you want right now?: I wish I can just stay at home but alas I've been booked the last few days haha. Saturday - Work event Sunday morning - Wrestlemania Saturday Monday morning - Wrestlemania Sunday Tuesday - Miss Saigon Wednesday - Afternoon out with Bea and Kata Thursday & Friday - Work Saturday - Rest Sunday - Work event

Even then it's still kinda hard to be excited about Saturday because I know it's sandwiched between two busy days anyway.

Do you hate when you see teachers in stores?: I don't hate it but I also don't wish for it to happen.

What always puts a smile on your face?: My dogs.

Where can I find you on a Saturday night?: At home with a cup of coffee.

What is the best thing about Sundays?: The free time - for the most part, at least.

What is your music provider (itunes, windows media player): I just use Spotify.

How many songs do you have?: I don't download songs.

When was the last time you had a period?: Two weeks ago.

Why do you think the sky is blue?: Idk.

If you could change the sky to any color which would you choose?: I wouldn't change it. We get different colors already anyway.

Is there anything wrong with you right now?: I mean I'm running on 2 hours of sleep so I don't super particularly feel my best rn but I think I'll manage.

Do you hate when people stare at you?: It bothers me a little bit, yeah.

What always makes you angry, no matter what?: Toddlers throwing a tantrum.

[antvnger]

((Y'ALL!!

An excerpt from Look Out for the Little Guy just dropped and I am STOKED!! September can't get here soon enough, like seriously. I'm going to devour this book when I get my hands on it. I wonder how my writing on here compares....

See below for the whole excerpt from the book.))

HI THERE. HOWDY. HEYA! Man, I hate introductions.

If you’re reading this book, first of all, thank you! Even though I can make my body as large as the Empire State Building, some days my self-esteem gets, well, ant-sized. Maybe that’s an occupational hazard of being an Avenger and working alongside the mightiest and smartest people on Earth, but the feeling is still there. Even when I remember that I did help save half the world.

Anyway, my name is Scott Lang. You may now or at one time have known me as “Ant-Man.” I’ve been involved in some Super Hero stuff you might have heard about, some Super Hero stuff you probably haven’t heard about, and some Super Hero stuff you might be tired of hear­ing about—at least if you’re anything like my immedi­ate family.

But who is Scott Lang? Well, I’m just an average, middle-aged white guy who went to a fancy nerd col­lege, got married, and landed a solid white-collar desk job. I used to work as a computer guy at VistaCorp, a huge tech firm that deals with security. (Oh, the irony of that, but just wait for it!) My wife Maggie and I had a baby girl named Cassie, and we were heading into an uncomplicated, peaceful suburban life outside of San Francisco.

I mean, sure, on our TVs we were watching the world occasionally coming under attack by strange beings. But we also saw this amazing group of Super Heroes called the Avengers, who always managed to show up exactly when they were needed and send those baddies back . . . away. From our planet. And my life.

However, there were still some baddies right here on Earth. Specifically, in my workplace.

As I began to discover over time, my company was not completely on the up-and-up. Under the (mis)guidance of my boss, the company I was working at, VistaCorp, started using its prowess with security to take advantage of customers. Specifically, someone either overlooked or deliberately created a glitch in the payment-processing software, skimming millions of dollars from customer accounts.

I decided I was not okay with that.

After multiple attempts to push back against the company, attempts that one might describe as “legal” or “reasonable” or “advisable,” I decided to go in a dif­ferent direction.

I’d like to start with the positives: I returned five mil­lion dollars to our customers and exposed VistaCorp’s nefarious dealings to the public.

And, on the other side, I also drove an extremely expensive sports car into an extremely expensive pool, and myself into San Quentin Federal Penitentiary for three years.

Even worse, this was also around the time that my marriage to Maggie broke up. I don’t want to get into the specifics of why—that’s strictly Scott-Maggie stuff—but let’s just say “Husband suddenly going to the pen for three years” wasn’t exactly a marriage-saver.

More critically, though, that divorce, plus imprison­ment, effectively separated me from my dear, sweet daughter, Cassie. For way too many of her precious first few years. I wondered if she and I would ever even have the chance to make a connection.

Eventually, I finished my sentence, left San Q, and attempted to rejoin the world. Even if the world didn’t quite seem to know what to do with me yet. I couldn’t get a job with a conviction on my record. I had no funds or place to stay. Even my one joyful attempt to reunite with Cassie was cut short by Maggie and her fiancé, telling me I had to get my life together before we could talk visitation or shared custody.

Fortunately, though, there was one guy who did have a use for me.

Unless you’ve spent the past few years in a cave (or, say, a subatomic realm), you’ve probably at least heard of Pym Technologies. Or at least, Hank Pym.

If you haven’t, Hank Pym was the inventor of the Pym Particle, an incredible scientific breakthrough. Pym Particles have the power to cause molecular reduction or expansion at great scales in either direction. In other words, they can make anything super-small or super-big. Hank and his wife, Janet Van Dyne, put this to direct use on themselves, performing countless heroic deeds as the original Ant-Man and The Wasp.

And outside of the Super Hero game, Hank started a serious R&D operation known as Pym Technologies. But a few years ago, Pym Tech fell into the unscrupulous hands of people who wanted to exploit his discoveries for use on the battlefield—and to sell the resulting technology to folks we really do not want to be in battle with! By then, Hank had been pushed out of the com­pany that literally had his last name on the door. But he knew what was being planned with his invention, and that it had to be stopped. So he . . . let’s say “hired” me to recover his creations from Pym Tech.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, Scott! is probably what you’re saying right now. How did we jump from custody disputes to biotech espionage?

Well, right about the time I was stumbling out of prison, trying to find myself, Hank Pym—whom I didn’t know at the time—found me. Hank had done his research on me and knew I was skilled at both elec­tronics and thievery. And most importantly, he knew that I had nothing left to lose.

Unbeknownst to me, he “tested” me by enticing me to steal the Ant-Man suit from his highly formidable safe. Once I succeeded at that, Hank and his daughter, Hope Van Dyne, kinda “stole” me from police custody, offered me the gig (as if I had a choice!), and then trained me to pull off one of the craziest high-tech heists ever.

So, return the potentially world-threatening military technology to its rightful creator, and it’s back to peace again, right?

Wrong.

Literally no sooner had I pulled off the Pym Tech operation (with an assist from some old prison pals and some extremely skilled ants) than I found myself face-to-face with the Avengers.

Well, two of them, anyway. Captain America and the Falcon. Believe me, two’s more than enough! I’d already had a tussle with the Falcon, but now he and Cap (as I would soon be calling him, no big deal) actually wanted my help.

Wow. I mean, wow! It wasn’t just cranky old semi-retired scientists tracking me down anymore—now I’d caught the attention of Earth’s Mightiest.

So what they wanted me for was . . . a bit messy. Basically, the Avengers had a huge internal divide over something too complicated to get into here, and Cap and Falcon wanted some fresh (and highly size-adaptable) muscle on their side. Especially when all of this culminated in a huge Avengers-vs.-Avengers fracas at an airport in Germany. Germany! I’d just spent three years in a tiny cell. Now I was suddenly “doing Europe”?

I don’t want to get into the details of the conflict (and in fact I am under legal obligation not to), but let’s just

say I might have been on the more “badass” side of it.

In the end, that whole fight got resolved, as I think you know. Otherwise our planet would be a scorched battlefield of never-ending intra-Avengers smackdowns.

So . . . peace on Earth now?

Nope. That’s when—thanks to Thanos—half of all life in the universe disappeared. So no, no peace on Earth or anywhere else.

I wasn’t around for those five years of missing people (you’ll find out why soon), but I came back just in time, jumped to a different timeline, fought, like, every bad guy in the universe on a field in upstate New York, helped the Avengers stop Thanos, and put all the people back where they belonged. Including, last but not least, putting my precious Hope back together with me!

As you might imagine, that was . . . a lot.

So in the time since, I’ve been trying to take things a bit easier. Nursing wounds. Reconnecting with those I’ve missed. Reflecting on what it all means.

Oh yes, and of course, writing this book!

And if you want to really get to know who Scott Lang is, reading this book is where I’d recommend you start.

So at this point, I bet you also have a very serious question—one which I’ve asked myself over a thousand times a day while writing this:

Why on Earth is Scott Lang the first Super Hero writ­ing a book?

I mean, just between us, I’m proud to be an Avenger, but sometimes I also feel like a “latecomer.” Sure, I came through in the ultimate clutch, but in baseball terms, I’m not a starter—I’m a DH (designated hero).

Here’s how I see it: I’m the “everyman Avenger.” I’m the one you could grab a beer with, the one you’d feel okay asking to look after your dog when you’re away or for a drive to the airport. I’m not a Super Soldier or a billionaire (unless this book is super-successful), just a regular dad, a San Francisco Giants fan, and a guy who’s made mistakes I’m still trying to rectify.

In a word, I’m an ordinary guy who’s been thrust—more than once—into extraordinary circumstances.

And I know that still doesn’t completely answer the question of why I wrote this book.

The simple answer is, “The Avengers asked me to.”

One day, Bruce “the Hulk” Banner and Clint “Hawkeye” Barton took me out for lunch. They said they were con­cerned that the world didn’t really know what had hap­pened with Thanos and the Blip and our long struggle to finally put things right again.

At first, as I usually do when confronted with heavy topics, I made a joke: “I’m pretty sure at least half the world knows what happened.”

Bruce responded that yes, of course, billions had experienced these jarring and mind-bending events, but they didn’t know the full story behind them. And ultimately, that’s what people need the most to get through and get past traumatic events: a narrative that helps it all make sense.

“Okay,” I agreed. “Solid plan. So who are you going to get to tell that story?”

Clint answered, “You, Scott. You’re the guy who got scooped up in all this pretty recently. You’ve still got one foot in their world. And you’re a guy everyone likes . . . and trusts.”

And Bruce sealed the deal: “It’s tough stuff, and no one knows how to keep it light like you.”

Well. I still had tons of doubts. I was hardly an eye­witness to almost all that history. I hadn’t been around for the Battle of Wakanda, or any of the events that led to Thanos gathering the various Infinity Stones.

But pretty much immediately, I knew what my answer would be. As far as I’m concerned, when the Avengers ask you do to a job—any job—you say yes. So I did. Two quick handshakes (Bruce—now permanently in his Hulk body—made sure to keep his “not too firm”), and it was settled. They’d supply me all the archival footage and documentation, take me anywhere I needed to go, and let me ask as many questions as I needed.

The only thing is, it wasn’t actually 100 percent set­tled for me—on the inside. From the confidence peak of having two amazing Super Heroes place their trust in you, there was a frighteningly steep plummet into self-doubt. Even with their sensible reasons, the whole affair just stirred up a question that’s been burning inside me most of my adult life:

Why me?

I’ve been asking myself that since before I even met the Avengers. Back when I was working at VistaCorp, why was I the only one who couldn’t sleep at night after learning of all the money they were stealing from cus­tomers? Why did I basically give up my job, give up my marriage, and spend three years in San Quentin, just so I could play Robin Hood?

And finally—and this one still smarts—when VistaCorp’s nasty business became public to the world, why was I the one who ended up going down for it?

I don’t know the answers to these questions. And perhaps I never will.

Not even Doctor Strange can tell me, and believe me, it’s not for my lack of asking. Once the purple dust had settled from the Battle of Earth, I tried bonding with the guy. Let’s just say, he was either unwilling or uninterested in filling me in about any of my 14,000,605 possible pasts.

But here’s what I do know. That VistaCorp/prison experience taught me that our world is broken. And that it’s never going to get fixed unless folks like me—the unlikely ones—step up to the job.

And when Hank Pym plucked me out of the ex-con pool and put me to work as Ant-Man 2.0, I started to see the haziest outlines of a “why” for me. Maybe all those hard years I had just endured were actually preparation for a higher purpose.

Which is a good thing, because right after my first outing as a hero, I was drafted into that aforementioned very scary and sort of confusing business with Avengers fighting other Avengers in Germany, I was sent to an underwater super -SUPER-max prison, and once again, I had to take the fall and spend two more years in deten­tion under house arrest.

Why me again?

Still no perfect lock on the answer, but I was beginning to glimpse one. This is going to sound beyond weird for a guy whose success—and often life—depends on quantum mechanics, but basically, I had a feeling.

Even as I was yanked from one seemingly unthink­able scenario to another, asked to do things I would have never dreamed possible, I began to see that many incredible things were, in fact, possible—and I was doing them. And they started to feel more and more, for lack of a better word, right.

I know this is the kind of feeling my Avengers pals feel mid-mission or mid-battle, and maybe they’ve gotten used to it, but I’m just finally getting there. To the feel­ing that, even when faced with the most terrifying foes imaginable, even with the odds exponentially stacked against you, if you are working side by side with others to serve a greater good, you are in the right place, doing the right thing. For you.

And honestly, that’s the real story behind the entire Avengers saga. It’s the one I thought was most essential to share with all of you. That was the deeper reason I said yes to those two Avengers at the lunch counter. Because I knew that, once again, I was being called to do what seemed impossible (or at least, highly inadvisable)—but instead, I let the feeling take hold, and guide me.

And I realized that I needed to share that feeling with you.

Because at the end of the day, nobody can tell where life is going to yank them, unexpectedly and seemingly beyond their reach. Steve Rogers signed up to fight, imagining he’d only go as far as a scrawny guy can get in wartime. Tony Stark was brilliant and successful, but I know a part of him wondered if he’d ever get out from under his dad’s shadow. Even Doctor Strange in all his professional success could never have imagined becoming a Master of the Mystic Arts—or even that such a thing existed!

And that same unpredictability is just as true for you as it is for me. What would you do if life shrunk you down and tossed you into a bathtub being filled by your former prison buddy? Okay, that one might just be me. But how about when life sends you unexpectedly packing from your gig of three years and straight into a jail cell—because you dared to blow the whistle on your company’s greed?

You don’t ask why. You ask, “Where do I go from here?”

Because that’s the job life has for you, at least right at this moment, and it’s the kind of job you don’t get to quit.

You can run, but you can’t hide—not even if you can shrink yourself down and leap into a bathtub.

Now I know I said before that I don’t, technically, have a super-power. But looked at another way, I actually do. And the even cooler part is, so do all of you.

Having the ability to change my size at will, I’ve seen that the world is full of “big guys” and “little guys.” And unsurprisingly, the former is always stepping on the latter. Sometimes this is by design, but sometimes, just because of their status and drive, the big folks don’t even see the everyday, hard-working folks just trying to get by.

That’s why it’s always the job of people like me—and, as I’m going to show you throughout this book, you—to look out for the little guy. That’s something we all have a super-powered ability to do, if we simply choose to accept the job.

You are in this place and time for a reason, and no one else is. And so—when that next uncertain, unlikely, “impossible” step is revealed to you—I urge you with every particle in my body, Pym or otherwise, to turn that “Why me?” into a “Why not me?”

At least that’s what I tried to do when I promised the Avengers I would tell their story. And the best way I know how to do that is by telling mine at the same time. Because as I’ve learned, whenever I start to talk about something big that happened, I also see the little lessons that can be learned from it, and I want to share that, to help myself and others.

Maybe it’s because I didn’t get the chance to be around my daughter Cassie for so many chunks of her life, to share what I’d learned with her. I’m still working on that, but it’s hard now that she’s a grown-up herself who’s already seen and experienced so much without me to guide her. I missed the boat on that one, but believe me, you are in for an entire book of “Dad wisdom” just burning for a home.

So that’s what I plan to do in this book. I’m going to tell it all, from how I saw it, experienced it, and heard it firsthand from my hero buddies. I’m going to bring you into the hero world.

Along the way, you’ll hear about my story—Scott Lang’s story—from where I started to the (ant-) man I’ve become, and am still becoming. Because I’m so incredibly fascinating? No. Because my life—just like yours—loses half its value if we don’t find a way to share its lessons with others.

And finally, because—if you take nothing else away from my words—what I want to share is that what makes all of us giants is how much we look out for the little guy. How we help out our fellow humans when they need it most. How our greatest super-power can simply be a listening ear, a concerned eye, or an outstretched hand. How we don the “hero’s uniform” by simply showing up and doing the unbelievably unlikely job that life has just handed us.

And speaking of jobs, I’ve got an entire rest of a book to write. Oh, why did I agree to this? WHY ME?

[thetimetel]

I had been kidnapped from the orphanage by a supervillain. He had me tied up and attached to a crane, which he was at the controls of. Right now I was dangling over a pool full of piranhas. It was all a trap for whatever superhero came to save me, a trap that he had clearly spent a long time making. I should have been terrified. But instead there was a different, overriding feeling inside of me.

"I have to pee."

The supervillain glanced up from the book he was reading, looking at the clock next to him. He soon sighed and threw the book into a massive pile of finished books, went to the crane controls and let me down safely. As he untied me he spoke.

"Once you're done with that we'll have supper and feed the piranhas again."

As we ate I asked the man how long it had been now. At first I had been terrified of him. Now I was honestly just as annoyed as he was.

"Five weeks. Five weeks I've had you kidnapped and the supers haven't done a damn thing about it. This is ridiculous - if I robbed a bank those jerks would be on my ass in FIVE MINUTES!"

He growled while taking another bite of ramen noodles. I had already finished three cups, and was throwing steaks into the water. It's really cool how the fish swarm to gobble it all up. The bored supervillain - Beastmaster - soon got to his feet.

"They're not coming. I don't know why, but they're not coming. I'm going to have you follow me to their headquarters."

". . . you're going to walk right into a superheroes' base?"

"Oh, you'll be my hostage. They won't do anything while I have a hostage."

That was how I got my first taste of sun in five weeks. It wasn't long before Beastmaster and I were in a car, with him driving through the city. Eventually we stopped in front of a massive building called the Super Headquarters. All superheroes register through it.

"Alright, I'm going to drag you out through the driver's side. And don't worry, the gun isn't loaded."

As we made those steps up the stairs, was trying to think of all the reasons no one would rescue me. I guess . . . I just needed a reason. Maybe the orphanage hadn't registered me as kidnapped? Maybe the heroes couldn't find Beastmaster's base of operation? Maybe some other supervillain had nearly destroyed the city, and they had to focus on them first?

Then we got inside, and Beastmaster gave a weird squeaking sound as he and I both realized what we were looking at. A group of at least TEN superheroes were all chatting at the desk. It didn't take long before they noticed us, and for the longest time we all just . . . stared at each other. The heroes looked very confused, but Beastmaster soon asked 'well'?

"Oh, shit! I completely forgot!"

What.

Me, Beastmaster, and even the other superheroes turned to face the hero who had spoken. Their face was pure red as they awkwardly scratched the back of their head, forcing out a nervous chuckle.

"Forgot . . . what, exactly?"

"The orphanage called recently, said that Beastmaster had kidnapped one of their kids. I uhm, I took the job but it was a busy day and my sister was having her birthday and uhm . . . I may have forgotten to actually DO that one."

He chuckled again. When one of the other supers asked how long it had been, the moron sheepishly said 'I don't know, a day?' Even BEASTMASTER was appalled as he spoke up.

"THAT WAS FIVE WEEKS AGO! I'VE HAD THE KID DANGLING ABOVE PIRANHAS FOR FIVE WEEKS!"

"Five weeks - RACCOON!"

"No, no! There's no way - it hasn't been five weeks, it's been . . . let me check the calendar . . . Oh, shit. No, it's definitely been five weeks."

"Raccoon! Do you have ANY idea - we promise extra money with late saves! Do you even know how much money comes from FIVE WEEKS!?"

Money. Was . . . was that all they cared about? Even the stunned Beastmaster could only stand and gawk as these supers snapped at Raccoon. Apparently the cost increased ‘exponentially’ - not that I knew that word at the time - and would come out to nearly a million dollars.

“And do you realize what the implications will be once this gets out on the news!? We are going to be a laughingstock!"

As they continued scolding him I looked up at Beastmaster.

“Can you just . . . pull the trigger?”

“Gun’s not loaded, remember?”

I could only sigh as the supers seemingly got a plan together.

“Okay, we’ve got a plan. We'll make a big dramatic scene about having finally found your base, storming it, then saving the kid. That way we can at least claim that we were looking the entire time. We save our reputation and you get a good reputation as well, Beastmaster! How does that-”

“Screw it. Take him.”

That was all Beastmaster said before letting go of me and storming off through the doors. He didn’t look back at all, even when the supers pleaded with him to play along.

It’s funny. I thought that was the worst moment of my life, having learned that the reason I wasn’t saved was because they forgot to save me. Then they brought me back to the orphanage, where I learned even they were much happier with the money than my return, and I thought THAT was going to be the worst moment of my life.

Then the orphanage got in contact with Beastmaster. They hatched a plan of a staged kidnapping, of Beastmaster keeping me for as long as he could manage. In return he’d get half the money.

As you might guess, I wasn't happy with this idea.

It only took three days for the heroes to find us. But they certainly weren't expecting to find the piranhas picking at what remained of Beastmaster. I told them the story I'd rehearsed for over two days at that point. Beastmaster had gotten knocked out by some of his equipment and ended up in the pool. The piranhas had swarmed him and left very little behind. And to be fair to me, I wasn't LYING.

I just left out the fact that I'm the one who hit him with the equipment, and that I'm the one who dumped his body in the pool. And that was no easy task considering I was about half his weight.

By the time I was 'rescued', they had put a new clause in their rescue policy. In short the increase in money was linear instead of exponential. So it was no longer worth it for the orphanage to have me kidnapped. I thought that would be the end of it, that I'd carry the dark secret of what I had done to Beastmaster to the grave and never have to worry about superheroes and supervillains ever again.

Was I ever wrong.

A villain has entered the Hero’ main headquarters… to make a formal complaint.

[philabundance]

Food Rescue Keeps Families Fed

Food insecurity isn’t just a buzzword—it’s the harsh reality for millions of families living paycheck to paycheck. It means not knowing if there will be dinner on the table tonight.

Between rising costs and unpredictable income, more people than ever are forced to choose between basic needs like food, rent, or utilities. Fortunately, food rescue initiatives are turning potential waste into meals, and Philabundance is leading that fight.

Philabundance isn’t just any food nonprofit—it’s a lifeline. Serving nine counties across southeastern Philadelphia and southern New Jersey, they work to drive hunger away and end it for good.

So, how does supporting a food rescue like Philabundance actually make a difference? Let’s break it down.

Food Rescue: From Surplus to Survival

It’s shocking how much food goes to waste. Perfectly edible groceries—fresh produce, dairy, and prepared meals—are often tossed out because they’re "extra." Philabundance intercepts that surplus food, rescuing it from landfills and turning it into lifelines for hungry families.

Food rescue doesn’t just prevent waste; it gives families hope. It’s more than filling empty stomachs—it’s about restoring dignity for people who need help during tough times.

Why Philabundance Deserves Your Support

1. Supporting Food Pantries Helps Your Community Thrive

Local food pantries depend on organizations like Philabundance to keep shelves stocked and families fed. Without them, families would have nowhere to turn. Whether you’re struggling to make ends meet or in a position to help, supporting food rescue efforts strengthens your community—one meal at a time.

2. Donations = Direct Impact

Every dollar counts. When you donate to Philabundance, you’re directly providing meals to families in need. Your contribution isn’t just theoretical—it shows up as real food on dinner tables. In fact, just one dollar can provide up to two meals. It’s tangible, immediate, and life-changing.

3. Tackling the Root Causes of Hunger

Philabundance does more than distribute food—they tackle hunger at its source. Through programs that focus on food education, community partnerships, and economic empowerment, they’re working to break the cycle of poverty and food insecurity for good.

You’re not just addressing today’s hunger when you support food rescue. You’re helping prevent it tomorrow.

4. Tax Benefits for Giving Back

Giving feels great—and it’s financially smart, too. Donations to registered nonprofits like Philabundance are tax-deductible. Supporting food rescue efforts doesn’t just help families eat; it helps you save come tax season. Win-win.

5. Small Donations Make Big Differences

It’s easy to feel like your donation isn’t enough. But here’s the truth: small amounts add up quickly. Whether it’s $10 or $100, every donation matters. That dollar you might spend on coffee? It could provide a meal to someone who hasn’t eaten all day.

How You Can Get Involved

Giving back isn’t limited to donations. Time is just as valuable.

Volunteer: Food sorting, packing, or distributing—Philabundance has opportunities for individuals or groups to lend a hand.

Spread the Word: Share Philabundance’s mission with friends and family. Hunger is closer than most people think.

Donate Monthly: Set up a recurring donation to keep food rescue efforts consistent and reliable.

No effort is too small. Whether you volunteer on weekends, donate monthly, or share their mission online, it all helps drive hunger away.

Food Rescue Isn’t Just Charity—It’s Change

Philabundance proves that food rescue is one of the most effective tools to fight hunger while reducing waste. Supporting their mission means less food in landfills, fewer families worrying about their next meal, and stronger communities.

So, whether you need help or are looking to give it, Philabundance is there for you.

Visit Philabundance online to donate, volunteer, or learn more about how food rescue keeps families fed and futures hopeful. Together, small efforts can drive hunger away for good.

For more information about Donating Food and  food pantry near me please visit:- Philabundance