#i just think we need to remember our roots and stop pretending he isn't the best boy

[izloveshorses]

everyone stop posting !!!! and look at a peeta mellark. carry on <3 peace joy love <33

[mauesartetc]

If you were in charge of writing Hazbin or Helluva, what would you change and what would you keep the same?

I kinda answered this back in January, so I'll try not to repeat too much. Basically, I'd flesh out Hazbin's worldbuilding so the setting feels meatier than a basic red city with eyes and pentagrams strewn around. Not only do the designs feel lazy, but we have next to no info on how this society works. If you're making your fantasy world nearly identical to our own (but with demons), why can't you just tell a friggin' slice of life story in the world of the living?

As for Helluva, now that we're much farther into the season, I maintain that the characters should have some actual consequences for their actions, as well as more agency. They should drive the plot, not vice versa. They should feel like real people, not marionettes for the writers to play with.

Moxxie, stop allowing Blitzo to berate you. Octavia, leave Stolas in that fun house. Stella, divorce him. Loona, ditch Blitzo on the beach and stay with the succubi. Blitzo, tell Stolas to start treating you with respect. All of you, stop being such damn unrealistic pushovers.

Regarding Episode 6 specifically, I thought the interrogation scene with the two agents was funny and cute, but their environment doesn't reflect the claim of no one taking their work seriously. Their headquarters is in a skyscraper, they can access countless weapons, and we can safely assume these dozens of agents are getting paid somehow. Clearly, someone takes them seriously enough to foot the bill for all this.

The animation in the trip-out sequences was great, but it would've made more sense if they explored why Blitzo wants so badly to be a father to Loona, and why Moxxie is overly attached to Millie (like Blitzo mentions before they start hallucinating). These are conflicts we've seen more prominently throughout the show, rather than Blitzo's newly-revealed fear of... dying alone? I think? And Moxxie's need to... I guess stand up for himself? I don't even remember at the moment; that's how irrelevant these "truths" were to the characters' actual experiences.

Also, Blitzo's assertion that he's hard on Moxxie because he cares seems like such bullshit. There's a difference between tough love and verbal abuse, and I invite readers to revisit Murder Family to see which one best fits Blitzo's behavior.

But the big "fuck you, show" moment was the kiss between Blitzo and Stolas. Up to that point, Blitzo had shown no signs of legitimately caring about Stolas; he was just sleeping with him for the grimoire. But now I guess he loves him, completely out of nowhere. And Stolas treats him like a sex object, so why are we supposed to root for this relationship, again?

Oh, and um, Blitzo... If you really care about Stolas, you might warn him about the hit man who tried to kill him last episode instead of shoving your tongue down his throat. Striker's still out there and very much a threat, and it's weird that the writers are pretending he isn't.

This episode should have opened with Blitzo banging on Stolas' door and yelling frantically that he's in danger. Really, the whole thing could've concerned evacuating Stolas and his family to a safe house, and Blitzo having some relationship-building moments with both Stolas and Stella (who has every right to be angry about her husband's cheating, though hiring someone to kill him is a tad extreme). There'd even be some suspense as Stella contacts Striker in secret, letting him know exactly where they are. But while she waits for him to show up and airs her feelings to both Stolas and Blitzo, might they patch things up somewhat? Might Stolas actually apologize? Might Stella have a change of heart?

But yeah, as I recently mentioned, here's the best thing that could happen at the end of the season: Blitzo dumps Stolas, and the gang starts a journey through the rings of Hell to find some other way to get to the surface, taking on odd jobs as they go. Next season, they might even reexamine why they feel the need to get revenge for others, and how these motivations fuel their search for a transportation method.

Let's be real, though. Season 2 will just give us more Stolitz fan service. It's so disheartening to think about what we could've had.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 13 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 2.7 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

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{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

Change Of Heart

“You and Daniel were in a relationship that ended sometime before we met,” Keanu says, gathering his stuff as you do the same, both starting to take the baggage to the living room. “He is Mrs. Davis' son, and I guess she didn't like much when you two broke apart.”

“And where is this Daniel now? I'd like to meet him if he's part of my past.” You stop by the door, as Keanu checks on his phone for the car he just called.

But he puts his phone away, eyes on you. “Daniel passed away a week before your accident.”

“Oh...” You whisper, looking down. “So that's why Lucia got so sad when I said we weren't considering the name.”

“Yeah.”

Furrowing your eyebrows at his weird expression, you step forward and tiptoe, placing a kiss on his lips. “Let's go home, babe.”

•••

Going back home happened without any incidents. But the next days were filled with medical appointments. You assure him you're fine, but Keanu seems to be in an urge to make sure you're completely fine. You try not to complain about it, but things get weird when you notice a strange expression on his face. For too many times to count you caught him looking like he was just about to say something, but for some reason, he gives up. It makes you confront him a couple of times, but he assures you he's just worried as the pregnancy goes on.

Some weeks go by, and you're getting impatient to find out the baby's sex. On your many ultrasounds, they're always on a position that makes it impossible to see it. But you're hopeful for today, and, as you lie on the bed with Keanu, your back against his chest, you take in the soft morning light.

Keanu has an arm around her waist, a hand caressing her belly. Her bare back keeps his body warm, and despite the constant feeling that time is running short, he places kisses on her neck.

He was supposed to tell her the truth weeks ago, the moment they got back from Miami, but he just couldn't. This went too far, he went too far. In every possible aspect. Keanu didn't only fell for her, but he was intimate with (Y/N) too many times to count, and that makes him feel more guilt than anything else.

Her second trimester is just about to end, and now, he's caught in between. Again, for the millionth time, Keanu is caught in between two feelings. His love and his morals.

In his defense, Keanu did try to break the news several times. The words, the destructive, dangerous words were at the tip of his tongue, ready to desolate his life. But they got stuck, and he was too weak at the thought of losing her. Of losing the baby that he loves so much. It doesn't matter how many times he reminds himself the kid isn't his, he's failing to get this fact to grow roots in his heart. Keanu loves the child as if it's his own.

Guilt threatens to devour him entirely sometimes, but right now, in this moment, happiness suppresses everything else. This is his personal paradise, with her, the baby, healthily growing inside her.

Keanu always wanted a family. Settle down, take less and smaller roles. But nobody ever made him feel like he could. Of all the women he dated, nobody ever made him feel like he would give up everything. He thought he knew what love was, and he thought it wasn't as strong as people say... But now, life proved him wrong. This is love, a wrecking ball that came and destroyed his walls, his heart, his wrong perceptions. If only it happened some other way. If he wasn't caught up in this web of lies.

Dr. Harris wasn't happy to know he was sleeping with her. (Y/N) told her, of course, and even though it was in her usual shy and reserved way, the psychologist got the meaning behind the words. And she confronted him, very harshly, and Keanu could do nothing but listen and agree. Because this is wrong. This is the worst kind of betrayal.

(Y/N) moves a little, breathing deeply as she wakes up. A hand finds his, pulling it to her chest, placing a soft kiss on his fingers. “Morning.” She whispers, voice still clouded by sleep. She's used to it now, Keanu is always awake first.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He replies, fingers caressing her chin. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, but I miss lying on my stomach.” She complains, turning around and snuggling into his chest. “What time is it? We have an ultrasound.”

“I know. And we should probably start getting ready.”

“Alright.” (Y/N) mutters, but doesn't give any signs she'll move anytime soon.

But he knows what today is all about, and it will certainly make her excited. “Hopefully we'll finally find out if this little one is Sophie or Liam.”

“Yes!” Immediately, she pushes herself up, an arm sustaining her weight as she looks down at Keanu. And he tries not to stare at her nude figure, even though this is silly compared to everything they're done. Still, he thinks he should at least try. “The baby must be in a good position today. I can't wait anymore.” With that, she's up, smiling as she makes her way to the bathroom.

And Keanu is left behind on the bed, surrounded by his bad decisions. Maybe this is the right time. Maybe, being this happy, she won't hate him so much.

With a lump in his throat, he goes on with his routine, until they're almost ready to go. Keanu waits by the bedroom door frame as she fixes her hair, the bathroom door half open. This is way too sudden, but if he doesn't do that now, if he waits any longer, he'll never be ready. He'll never be brave or strong enough to do this. He took too long already. Now, he can only hope, pray, that this will somehow end up the way he wants.

That he won't lose her.

The moment he sees (Y/N) walking out of the bathroom, Keanu gives a step forward, arms crossed, heart beating so fast it threatens to jump off his chest. The words are at the top of his tongue when his eyes take in her posture. (Y/N) holds the skirt of her blue dress up, all the way to the top of her thigh with one hand, and on the other, there's blood. Bright and red, staining her fingers and the palm of her hand. His eyes turn to her face, blank, scared as she looks at him.

Without thinking too much, his mind on the verge of collapsing, he forces himself to move, quickly making his way over her.

You hate the smell of the soap they have here. You hate this hospital and what it means when you're brought here. It's only far worse now. You're still trying not to burst into tears, trying not to break down again. There's no pain, so that's good. And no more bleeding, which is even better. The feeling you got when you found blood on your underwear was the worst thing in the world. For a moment, a desperate moment, you thought you were going to lose the baby. You wanted to yell, but you didn't have it in you.

If it wasn't for Keanu, you don't know what you'd do.

Now, still walking terribly slow out of nervousness, you leave the hospital bathroom, finding Keanu seated on the edge of your bed, already looking at you.

“Hi, beautiful.” He says, and you remember this was one of the first things he said to you. “Come and lie down. Why did you put the dress on again?”

“Because it's clean and I don't want to stay here.” Instead of doing as he said, you stand before him, your forehead on his chest. “I thought I was going to lose our baby.” Your voice cracks as some tears roll down, arms around his midsection.

“I already spoke to the doctor.” Immediately, you pull away, just enough to look into his eyes. “He assured me you're both alright.”

“Are you sure, Ke?” You plead, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I almost lost my mind.”

“He wants you to rest and that's all. He–” He's cut short by the door being open, and you see Dr. Wright and your obstetrician.

“First of all, you must know the baby is alright.” Dr. Williams says as she comes closer, a tablet on her hands. “Sometimes, such discharges happen, mostly as you progress from the second to the third trimester.” She kindly smiles. “Everything you two need to do is keep up the good job. Make sure to rest, eat healthily, and exercise. But I'll recommend you to lie down for the rest of the day, ok?”

“Ok.” You quickly agree.

“It would be good to avoid surprises. The bad ones at least.” Dr. Wright adds, oddly staring at Keanu. But that's normal, he still needs to look after you, so some things are directed to him. “But we have good news today, right, Dr. Williams?”

“Yes.” From under the tablet, she takes a picture from the ultrasound and hands over to you. “The baby was in a good position and we already know the sex.”

“Oh my God.” You exclaim, smiling for the first time since the incident. “What is it?”

Dr. Williams smiles, exchanging a glance with Dr. Wright. “Mr. and Mrs. Reeves, you'll be having a baby boy.”

“It's Liam!” You yell, throwing your arms around Keanu again. “I was right!”

“You were right.” He agrees, a second before you kiss him, not minding the audience.

“Well, you're free to go home. And call me if you need anything.” Dr. Wright says and the obstetrician agrees before they both leave.

At least something good happened today. You'll finally be able to paint the blank white walls of the baby's bedroom, and buy what you still need.

“I was right.” You repeat, smirking at Keanu. “But we can try again and maybe it'll be a girl. I mean, if we ever spoke about having more than one kid.” Blushing a little, you bite your lip. There are still a lot of things you need to be updated on, and you still get a little sad when it happens.

“I'd love to have more kids if that's what you want, sweetheart,” Keanu says and you smile, kissing him again. “But now let's go home. You need to lie down for the day.”

“Can we stop and buy the paint for Liam's room? We already know the color so it'll only take a minute.” You know you have to rest, but you can't help but feel excited for finally being able to finish off the baby's bedroom. “Please? I'll stay in the car.”

Keanu gives you a look because sometimes you don't always do as you said you would. “Fine, but you won't be painting anything. I can do it myself.”

Nodding, you watch as he takes your bag and guides you out of the hospital room you hate so much. Hopefully, there will be a day you won't have to keep coming here, not because of some incident and not for any appointments.

You did wait in the car this time, and as much as you wanted to hit the mall and buy everything blue and green, Keanu forces you to give up the idea and head straight home. And when you get there, you have his undivided attention. He doesn't only make an incredible lunch, and an incredible dinner, he gives your legs a massage, and it takes a lot of effort to just lie down instead of jumping on him. But this is peaceful, slow, and sweet.

In the weeks that follow, nothing bad happens. You feel great, but you also heavier. Liam is growing fast, and you can't wait any longer to meet him. And neither can Keanu. He gets even more protective with time if that's even possible. And after you almost slipped in the shower, you're not even allowed to shower by yourself. Of course you pretend you're annoyed, but the truth is that you love it.

Despite feeling uncomfortable during this period, Keanu makes everything perfect. There are still no signs you'll get the memories back, and that's a fact now, but you'll follow your psychologist's advice. And Laura's advice, since they're pretty much the same. Living in the past will only get in the way of what's happening now. You have an amazing husband, who loves you deeply, and a child on the way. The present is wonderful, and you won't let anything ruin it.

You're around week 37 now, marking it on the calendar on the fridge door, a hand on your back as you make your way to the kitchen table. Keanu is still upstairs, and you take this chance to pour some honey on your plate. You're still eating the awkward combination when he comes to the kitchen, and you try not to let him see. But Keanu sees everything, and when he takes his place across from you, you feel his eyes burning.

“What?” You innocently ask, shrugging your shoulders.

“Are you eating bacon with honey?”

Biting your lip, you raise an eyebrow at him. “I happen to love honey. And bacon. So it makes sense.” He giggles and you kick his leg under the table. “Don't mess with the pregnant lady.” Warning him, you push the plate away. “I'm done anyway. I'll move to the couch if you don't mind, my back really hurts.”

“Sure. I'll join you in a bit.”

“Ok.” Dragging yourself to the living room, you lie down, hands on your swollen belly. You're almost drifting off to sleep when you feel Keanu sitting down, lifting your legs so he can move closer, caressing your thighs. “Ke, I'm huge.” You complain, eyes on the bump.

“You're beautiful.” Bending down, he places a kiss on your exposed belly, since you have the shirt pulled up. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

“Yeah, I doubt that.” Pouting a little, you try to hold back the giggle when you see his eyebrow raised.

“I would love to show how beautiful I think you are, but Dr. Williams told us to give it a little break.”

“Don't even remind me.” You never complained about anything with your obstetrician, but when she told you and Keanu should probably avoid sleeping together, you had to speak up. Even though your cheeks were burning. But in the end, you did comply. And you wouldn't have much of a choice anyway, since Keanu does everything the doctors say. “I heard your phone beeping. Everything alright in Arch?”

“Yes. That was just Lucia.” He says, obviously a little annoyed. “She just moved here. She's renting an apartment not so far away.”

“What the hell.” Sighing, you roll your eyes. This woman won't leave you alone, it doesn't matter what you say. “Why is she doing that? Isn't it obvious we don't want her around?” A couple of weeks ago she showed up again, and another argument happened. Keanu had to kick her out because the recommendations were that you shouldn't be put under any kind of stress.

“She loves you and the baby. That's why she wants to be around.” You don't get it. Keanu doesn't like her either, so why does he still speak like this?

“I know you can't stand her, you don't have to fake it with me.”

“But this isn't about me, sweetheart, it's about you and the people who were in your life before.”

The kindness in his voice makes you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You're amazing, did you know that?” Placing kisses on his face, you smile. “I love you. I'm worried to death and I'm trying not to get anxious with the labor, but you're making everything perfect. You're the best husband I could ever have.”

“I'm just trying to be the husband you deserve.” With a hand caressing your cheek, Keanu kisses you full on the lips, and you take no time before kissing him back. You don't know what you'd do without him, but luckily, you won't ever have to find out.

×

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303

[revchainsaw]

Bumblebee (2018)

Good Evening worshippers, and welcome! Today the Cult of Cult goes a little more mainstream than usual. It's been a while since i've tackled a big Hollywood superhero film. But I do believe that these sorts of films will be remembered fondly my small groups of people in the future, especially the smaller films that are being overshadowed by the big bad MCU, films like 2018s Bumblebee.

The Messsage

Bumblebee was originally released as a prequel to the Transformers franchise that had started all the way back in 2007. However, reboots had really hit the market as a way to breath new life into struggling franchises, and the Transformers series had already gone to just about every absurd extreme you could imagine. No changes were made to the movie as it was released, but with it's more childish and heartfelt tone, and a new aesthetic that was softer, smoother, and all around just generally more pleasing to the eye, I think it was a wise choice to rebrand Bumblebee as a new beginning.

Our story is of two friends from two very different worlds and how they came together. Our first character is Bumblebee, then known as B- number sign/it doesn't really matter. Not yet Bumblebee is a soldier set with securing a safe location for the Autobots to regroup and make their home as they suffer a pretty serious defeat on cybertron at the hands of the tyrannical Decepticons. Optimus Prime, here again voiced by Peter Cullen and looking so much more like himself, assigns this task to Bumblebee promising him that they will meet him there when the time comes. Then Optimus fucks off for the rest of the run time making way for our little hero.

Bumblebee lands on Earth and is immediately set upon by John Cena and his military goon squad. It probably would have been wise for Bumblebee to avoid John Cena but in his defense, he couldn't see him. Hardy har har. In his attempt to flee his voice box is damaged, he seeks sanctuary by taking the form of a run down little VW bug, and suffers from amnesia.

Then we have Charlie. Charlie is not like other girls. She likes cars, all the retro music, which wasn't retro when the movie takes place, so I'm supposed to just think she's a rocker but it kinda seems like she'll listen to just about anything. I think in 2018 liking Motorhead and The Smiths (who are used ad nauseum in this movie) is perfectly common, but I feel like in the 80s that was a much different and much older attitude to take.

Anyway Charlie's poor family lives in a super fucking nice house and are poor because the dialogue keeps insisting they are so it must be true despite all the shit they have that actually poor people would sell blood and teeth to attain, but hell, this is Hollywood and Hollywood poor is like regular people upper middle class. Charlies family is so poor that instead of giving her a one time graduation/birthday present to buy a part for a car she already has, they just give her a moped, She also spends all her time at a pull apart where the manager (who might be her uncle that wasn't super clear) is willing to just give her a Volkswagen so I don't understand why she didn't already have the project car up and running. Whatever, it's a plot contrivance. All you need to know is that Charlie is tenacious and hard around the edges cuz her dad is dead and she's not yet mature enough to process that in a healthy way. Maybe her character arch will teach her to let others in, we'll have to find out.

There's also a wacky nerd named Memo, and some bad guys, and John Cena. They are all also pretty archetypal and contrived and don't really do anything of note that isn't just filling a beat that this kind of movie needs to walk. Charlie starts Bumblebee up, discovers he's a robot and the two begin to bond. Charlie learns to make a friend, and bumblebee is learning about himself. They get into hijinks and get revenge on a bully girl who makes Regina George look like a saint, she pretty much only picks on Charlie exclusively for having a dead dad.

The moment Bumblebee is woken back up, some technology goof em up that both he and Charlie are unaware of brings two Decepticon baddies into the picture. I don't remember their names, but since I love The Venture Brothers let's say they can be "Jet Boy and Jet Girl". Jet Boy and Jet Girl are sometimes cars, sometimes various flying military vehicles, and they make friends with the deep state and plan to get all the adrenochrome from all the orphans, or just to go find Bumblebee and beat his ass good cuz their bad guys. Let me tell y'all though, Jet Boy and Jet Girl are so bad that they don't even care that the government is listening when they reveal that they are planning on bringing a Decepticon Invasion and after they rough up Bumblebee real good they are going to destroy all life on this planet. So they start by killing a military scientist.

John Cena is after Bumblebee and he's homies with Jet Boy and Jet Girl until the military scientist butt dials him and he hears the evil plan. John Cena goes from heel to face and helps Bumblebee and Charlie save the day. It's a giant CG clusterfuck climax a la any superhero film in the last 10 years and I basically stopped watching. BumbleBee pulls a Hellraiser on Jet Boy, and then he hits Jet Girl with a freaking boat. Charlie uses her diving skills do dive down and save him, but he's a Giant Robot and he was okay and it was literally pointless for her to to except as a way to show that her character has completed her arch by doing the thing that was representative of her connection with her lost father.

Bumblebee turns into the Camaro from the first movie, meets up with Optimus prime, and the stage is set for this prequel to squeeze more prequels out. So it wasn't very creative, but was it bad? Let's find out.

Please Stand to receive the Benediction.

Best Aspect: Transform the Franchise

Bumblebee was directed by Travis Knight of Laika fame and it shows. This movie marks a stylistic change in the transformers franchise, as in it doesn't look like utter dog shit, but it also represents in many ways a tonal shift. It does hold on to a lot of gross sleaze that has unfortunately been forcibly jammed into the DNA of the franchise but it also attempts to be a more heartfelt entry. The characters of Bumblebee might all be sort of a waste of time, but at least they are doing something with emotions, even if the emotions of the characters are only explored as deeply as a children's cartoon I'm glad they are there. In the previous installments the only thing the characters did between running from action piece to seizure inducing action piece was drool over underage girls like a bunch of chimpanzees at the facility where they test experimental E.D. meds. It was nice to see that at least somewhat tampered. This transformers movie feels more like it's for kids and young teenagers, and strangely that more friendly tone makes for a much less juvenile product.

Worst Aspect: Remember I Love the 80s from the 2000s

I hope you really like Stranger Things. I do, but because Stranger Things was so successful it' s going to be everywhere. Not true Stranger Things just 80s nostalgia porn. This 80s nostalgia is going to be forced on you whether you like it or not, and it's not going to be fun. It's gonna be in your shows, in your music, in your Sunday like Bacon in 2010. It's that or Marvel Franchise Brand Whedonisms. Bumblebee is that brave movie that says, "Why not both?" It would seem fitting that a property as quintessentially 80s as Transformers should feel completely comfortable doing a period piece set in the 80's but it's so fucking half hearted it's depressing. It wasn't done to appreciate the roots of the IP, it was done to cash in on a trend and it feels it. All they did was throw up a date and insufferably force an 80s soundtrack down your throat as if that was enough to convince you that this movie needed to be set during this time. Other than that you could have told me this film was set in 2007 and I couldn't tell you any different.

Best Character: Charlie's an Angel

I liked Charlie. Sure her Arc is predictable, her taste is dumb, and she isn't exactly a master of her own destiny to any degree. But at least she is a woman in a transformers movie who's got something going on. Sure she's defined entirely by grief, but that sure is better than pretending that being able to work on cars is a feminist character trait instead of a weird fetish thing. They certainly do that thing with Charlie, but at least it's not the only thing they throw at the wall. Bumblebee is by no means out of the woods in this department, but it garners a lot of goodwill for trying. Like a racist uncle who just started his journey out of ignorance, but hasn't yet realized he has to stop asking mortifying questions to the barista at Starbucks. Okay, maybe that's an extreme metaphor. I'm saying that perhaps Charlie is not a great character but she's a great character for a Transfomers movie.

Worst Character: It's JOOOOHHHNNNN CEEEENA!!!!

Why is John Cena in this movie? I don't hate the guy, but his character seems pointless. You could remove him from the movie completely and replace him with any one of the random military goons at any point and it changes nothing. What was with that dumb salute at the end? It seems like they put him in this movie in post and it was just to pump up cast list. I wish he was given anything to work with. I can't remember his characters name, and it's not like John Cena did a bad job, I was just annoyed every time they kept giving him hero shots. I felt like I was watching a trailer for a different movie.

Best Actor: Optimal Primo!

Every time Peter Cullen speaks I want to listen. There's a reason they haven't had Chris Pratt or somebody with a bigger name come in and take over the role at this point. He's why the audience keep coming back. Peter Cullen IS Optimus Prime, and there's no changing that. He also wins twice. He's the best actor in the movie AND he's barely in the movie. Good call Peter.

Worst Actor: Mean Girls 2, Meaner and Girlier

I don't want to be cruel so I'm not going to go into to much detail, but there's an actress in this film who's performance is so mustache twirlingly evil and stupid that it ruined my suspension of disbelief when i knew going in that i was about to endure a 2 hour toy commercial about robots that turn into cars. Beldar Conehead was a more convincing human being than Tina.

Best Effect: Goo Be Gone

I really appreciated when the bad guys shot the government nerd into a blast of snot. That was pretty fun for me. Best part of the movie hands down.

Worst Effect: Live Action?

Bumblebee is a cartoon. It's a great looking cartoon but it doesn't sell itself that way. If we were doing a Roger Rabbit thing I'd have no gripes. However, I think CG is just getting worse. I'm criticizing this and it's still lightyears better than the previous entry's on the franchise. No transformation or fight sequence in Bumble Bee had me straining to make sense of what I was looking at. I think it was a great idea to start using some basic shapes and outlines to these characters, and return somewhat to their 80s designs. But at certain points, especially when there were no humans in the shot, i was pretty convinced I was watching Clone Wars. There may not be anyway around this, as the Transformers concept might not be able to be pulled off in any more effective manner. It's a minor gripe, but I just didn't think it looked like anything other than a very expensive cartoon, and in this franchise that's a compliment, because it least it looked like SOMETHING!

Best Scene: Space Opera

I am not a Transformers fan. I missed the boat on the cartoon as a kid. I would sometimes catch it at friends houses but I was more into Batman, Star Wars, and Ninja Turtles. By the time I came onto the scene the world had moved on to Beast Wars. I did one day arbitrarily decide that my favorite Transformer was Sound Wave. He looked great in this. I am a big fan of the return to form with a lot of the character designs in this. They really did keep the things that worked from the other adaptations, and they are steadily removing the things that didn't. For this reason, the scenes on Cybertron, particularly the battle with Soundwave (i prefer for personal reasons) looked great and were exciting to watch. I remember thinking Cybertron used to look like a Marilyn Manson shot a music video from inside to dumpster. This is so much better.

Worst Scene: Blocking the Box

There's a scene in Bumblebee where Charlie's family decides the best way to save their daughter was to cause a pile up of vehicles in an intersection, and it's pure contrived writing that saved any character in that sequence from being killed in a horrific traffic accident. It was stupid, played for laughs, and it wasn't exciting as much as it was anxiety inducing. I also thought that there was no reason the covert military group covering up extraterrestrial life wouldn't just disappear this family of fucking morons in their little piece of shit car. The logic of the scene was just so childish like, "No they won't hit me, I'm a good person."

Summary

Bumblebee may be remembered fondly in a decade. I think especially if the Transformers franchise were to end here. It didn't get the publicity of the other films, and that really is a shame. For my money, this was the best Transformers movie so far. I was very tempted to give Bumblebee a C, it does just enough to right what was wrong from the other movies to make me appreciate all that work. This movie has heart, and if you are at all into Transformers then l think you should see it. It's still pretty stupid, and pretty basic. It's not offering anything new to the genre, and it feels like a commercial for more movies. I really wish we could just get movies that want to tell a story. I thought it over and decided that it wasn't fair not to grade Bumblebee on it's own merits. Bumblebee is substantially better than the films that preceded it, but that's not saying a lot, when the films that preceded it are joyless exercises in self abuse.

Overall Grade: D

[bismillahnah-blog]

North

Summary: You meet your soulmate at Augusth 19th, 1967.

Author's Note: Thanks to @msjessicaraines for the ask! It is based on North by Sleeping At Last. It has almost 3k of words and i'm very proud! Hope you guys like.

we will call this place our home

the dirt in which our roots may grow.

though the storms will push and pull

we will call this place our home.

August 19th, 1967

You never thought you would meet your soulmate in such a young age. It was his sixteen birthday, and you were invited — even if you don't even know him, he was such a shy boy-. Your best friend was angry at you, saying you were leaving her for some weird boy, but again, you don't know why you were invited if you never talked to him. What was his name again? You wanted to remember before his birthday, so it wouldn't be awkward. God, what was his name? “(Y/N), come down. We are all ready to go to the party. Hurry!” You heard your father screaming downstairs, it was already time

“Has anyone seen my other shoe? I can't find anywhere!” You screamed back, running downstairs to find your dad waiting at the door, and your mother finishing the dessert she would take to put on the table with the other dishes. She was great friend of the boy's mother, and his mother asked for help, and your mom did a delicious pineapple upside down cake, but even if your mother was one of the best friends of his mother, you still couldn't remember his name. You tried to get a piece of this cake earlier, and didn't end well, so you have learned to go really far from that cake until it was time to eat with everyone else.

“It's the blue with white one?” Your father asked, fixing his fedora hat.

“The one that matches my clothes” You were wearing a blue plaid suit that your mother would probably kill you if ever got dirty.

“I think it was the one Aidan was eating” Your mother said, walking carefully with the cake in her hands. Aidan was your little dog, it was still just a puppy, so you couldn't blame him, though you wanted to scream. It was one of your favorite shoes!

“Mom, what do I do now? I can't go whit only one shoe and-”

“Change it, then”

“But it is the only one that match with this kind of clothes" You whined, sitting in the couch and crossing your arms stubbornly

“I'm not going if isn't with this shoe.”

“Little girl, you are going to the Deacon party, and I don't care if your shoes aren't the one you use for literally anything” Your mother answered, and you know that if you said anything back, that cake would fly to you in any moment.

“Fine” You said, getting up and running back to your room. Not without whispering some "I prefer staying at home, anyway”. You quickly open your room door and got your new white shoe, putting in your feet. Making your way back downstairs, you saw your mother eyes getting bigger and bigger, and your dad trying to hide a smile behind her.

“Why are you like this?” Your mom complained, and you feel a smiling wanting to creep out, but if you did let it go, it would be a big problem.

“I'm ready to go!”

There's no need to say that you and your mom arrived the party teasing each other. She wouldn't stop saying your shoes would be the latest fashion of this year, and you teased her saying her cake would be in every bakery after this year.

“Hello, Lilian. You are beautiful in this dress!” Your mom complimented the hostess. She was with a yellow dress and a white coat that goes till her knees, but the most beautiful thing was her smile. She was very happy for her son turning sixteen.

“Thank you. But I think the most beautiful thing in this party is (Y/N). It was an exquisite choice to wear shoes with different colors, but at least they match your dress, honey” She answered, while taking the cake from your mom's hands. She went to the kitchen, and so did your mom, your dad goes to talk to some mans, leaving you there by yourself.

“H-hello, are you (Y/N)?” You heard a voice from behind calling you. You turn around and see the shy boy, the weird boy, the bass boy. Everything they called him goes through your mind. And then you remember.

“Your name is John, right?”

we'll tell our stories on these walls.

every year, measure how tall.

and just like a work of art we'll tell our stories on these walls.

“So, what are the story behind those shoes?” John asked you. You and him were talking for almost an hour now. He seemed so shy, but when you started talking to him, something changed; he had a lot of interesting topics to discus, and you were happy to talk to him. You two were in the back of his garden, trying to get away from every adult or teenager that comes to say Happy Birthday for him.

“Well, my mom was in a rush to come to your house, and my other blue shoe was being eaten by my dog, so the only left option was changing my shoes. But it was simple. I don't like simple things” You answered, trying not to look into his eyes. He had eyes as open and honest as any child, a warmth and safety. At that moment, you found your home, your place to find company when the cold winds blew.

“Isn't weird?” John asked, picking up a little dandelion from the grass. “Feels like I know you for ages”

“It is, indeed. But why did you invite me?” You said, coming closer to him. You pretend not to see his pink cheeks.

“B-because I have seen you going around the neighborhood, and I talked to my mom, and she knows your mom and-” He stopped. You gently took the dandelion from his hand and put in your hair, placing behind your ear.

“Do you think the halls of your house can hear our secrets?” let the years we're here be kind, be kind. let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide. settle our bones like wood over time, over time. give us bread, give us salt, give us wine.

“John, sweetie, it's time for the cake.” John's mom called, looking at both of you with suspicious eyes. He got up first, and reached his hand for yours, to help you get up. You did this. And the contact that happened quickly was enough to make you melt into him like ice-cream on a warm porcelain bowl, like you belonged next to him, like he belonged next to you. You walked behind him, going inside the house to see everybody around a table, waiting for the birthday boy.

“It's time to cut the cake” Someone said

“Don't forget your wish, boy” You heard your father's voice saying.

“I think I'm a little old for this, Mr.” John answered with a smile, looking for who said this. John walked closer to the table and you walked to your family. Your mom was to distracted looking at the boy to even start asking questions, so do your dad. You just looked to John. And you wished you were his wish. You could feel your heart beat, every single pound in your chest. Not through your ears, that was occupied by the voices that were singing happy birthday; drowning it out in the ears. You should sing, but you couldn't. This great pounding, this great pressure; every beat. You couldn't hear it, but you could feel it. You could feel the doors of your heart open widely for this boy.

“Now, it's time for the adults to taste the wine” John dad said, and everyone laughed. Everyone but you. The only sound you could hear and feel was your heartbeat.

a little broken, a little new.

we are the impact and the glue.

capable more than we know to call this fixer upper home.

“Happy birthday, Deacon boy” You whispered in John's ears when you found him, talking to a group of people that were giving him congratulations for his birthday. He turned back quickly, locking his eyes in yours, moving his lips so only you could read it

“Follow me”. You distanced yourself, waiting for him to excuse himself so you both could leave it without someone noticing. When he finally did, you saw him going upstairs. To his room. And you followed. Looking back to see if anyone noticed, you are pleased to see that no one noticed a thing

“So, why your room?” You asked, entering his room. You could see some gray tones in his walls, a bass, his organized shelf and his bass. He was sitting in his bed, and tapped slightly at his side, a silent ask to you come closer, and you did it. John, instead of moving away, only moved closer to you. You were patiently waiting for his answer, but he started talking. He talked about the nothing and about everything. He would ‘accidentally’ brush up against you, leaning closer, so you could hear him better — though you could swear the noise downstairs weren't so loud in his room -.

“The flower stills in your hair” He said, and he made his most advanced movement; he leaned closer, so he could smell the scent of your hair, the scent of your neck, the scent of your love. You would be lying if you said you didn't feel your skin heat up against his touch, against his lips brushing slightly against your hand. You squeezed your legs, in pure instinct.

“You are very beautiful, (Y/N). Just like a work of art. I think I love you” John said, you turned your head to the side to avert his gaze, but the sudden rosiness of your cheeks gave you away. You felt the same. You didn't remember when, but now you're laid down in his bed, with John giving kisses along your neck, your legs, your face, but avoiding your lips.

“Beautiful, a work of art, a beautiful work of art” He say while finally meeting your gaze, asking a silent request. You just nodded. John kissed you and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as their breaths mingled. You ran your fingers down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between.

“I love you” You managed to say between kisses that were becoming more and more passionate.

“I really hope those walls can't hear our secrets” John said, and you giggled, remembering what you said what once seemed now like thousand of years before.

with each year, our color fades.

slowly, our paint chips away.

but we will find the strength and the nerve it takes to repaint and repaint and repaint every day.

August 19th, 1977

“Happy birthday, my Deacon boy” You said, laying down on John chest. It has been ten years. Ten lovely years. You started to plant kiss in every part of his face, remembering how ten years ago it was when you shared your first kiss with him.

John started waking up, mumbling something under his breath that you could only imagine was a satisfied groan.

“God, I want to wake up like this every day, love” He was now fully waked up, only enjoying the kisses that were now following down his neck.

“You are such a work of art. One that the paint never chips away” John complimented you, making you stop your kisses, and you looked up to his eyes, meeting his gaze. It was full of love.

“And if ever did, I'm sure you will paint me again. I love you so much." You managed to say, trying not to starting stutter over your own words.

“I will always make sure to repaint my work of art when is needed” You could only smile in return

“Now, going back to where we stopped” And now you're in your back, giggling with every movement John made into you.

let the years we're here be kind, be kind.

let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide.

settle our bones like wood over time, over time.

give us bread, give us salt, give us wine.

let the years we're here be kind, be kind.

let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide.

settle our bones like wood over time, over time.

give us bread, give us salt, give us wine. give us bread,

give us salt, give us wine.

smaller than dust on this map lies the greatest thing we have: the dirt in which our roots may grow and the right to call it home.

August 19th, 1997

There were friends of your younger kids running everywhere, friends of both you and John, parents of the kids. The house was full You felt a hug from behind, and you didn't need to look to know who it was. “This is the right place to call it home, don't you think, love?” John said, resting his head in the crook of your neck

“I'm happy to call this our home.”

TAGLIST: @someone-get-a-medic @msjessicaraines

[rainbowglittr]

Senior Year: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"How many times do you think she's going to flip her weave?" I asked Kiara. We were walking to class "with" Tyler and the she-devil. They were ahead of us in their own little world of weave flipping and exaggerated facial expressions.

"Maybe 50 most likely 30 if we're lucky." We both rolled our eyes.

"How long have you liked Tyler?" Kiara asked.

"Hahaha cute. Since......never!" I laughed. " What would make you think that?"

"Um, the way you look at him like he's the last piece of cheesecake in the world. The way you look at Mariah like she's the one who took the last piece of cheesecake."

"I do not! That's not jealousy! That's pure hatred! You need to get your eyes checked." I scoffed.

"Don't you dare lie! I know you do! You hate Mariah 98% because she's a terrible person, and 2% because she's with Tyler and you wish it was you!"

"Um, not true. What is true is that I do like Tyler as a FRIEND, a BROTHER! I don't like that she's with him because he deserves better. Isn't that obvious?"

"That you like him, yes.To people that know you, yes. To people who don't know you, yes."

"I dont know what you're talking about but I do have a class to go to."

"Don't pretend like you don't know. You know you like him."

"I DO NOT LIKE HIM!!!!!!!!!" I shouted. A couple people turned around, luckily Tyler and Mariah were still in their own world.

"See what you do?"

"No. You're in denial, you're in denial!"

"Nope!!!!!"

"Whatever."

"Whatever."

"I'm not even giving up until you admit it."

"Guess you'll spend the rest of your life doing this, then. As much as I'd like to further debate the matter I have a class good day now!" I said running into the class just as the bell rang.

"YOU'LL ADMIT IT EVENTUALLY!!!!"

"NOPE!!!" I yelled back. I made my way to my seat. And unfortunately looked up just in time to watch as Tyler and Mariah kiss. Yuck. He walked in and sat down next to me.

"Hey budddddyyyyy." He said.

"Hi."

"Wow please contain your enthusiasm, it's getting to be too much!"

"I'm in math class, I have no enthusiasm."

"Well then, Ms. RayOfSunshine!"

"I feel like you want something from me....."

"Indeed I do. I'm in some serious shit."

"Aren't you always?"

"That's beside the point. Anyway, Mariah is expecting an amazing date tonight and I have no idea what the hell I'm going to do." He said. I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. I REALLY can't stand her.

"Give her an amazing date? I don't know what you want from me."

"Please please help meeeeee. She will kill me if it's not perfect! Come on you're a female, she's a female. You have to have some type of idea." He gave me his stupidly cute hopeful grin.

"Fine, what does she like? What did you do for your last date and did she like it?" I said sighing.

"We went shopping and she loved it and she likes shopping." Again I tried not to roll my eyes, of course she liked shopping, of course.

"Well where did you-"

"Attention Class! Take out your worksheets from last night we are going to go over them right now, please." Said our teacher Ms. Rosenstein. I went to go pull out my homework that I probably did completely wrong and when I looked up at my desk Tyler had passed me a note.

"Really Ty? Really? How desperate are you?"

"VERY!"

I rolled my eyes and scribbled on the paper.

where did you take her last time?

Some mall she wanted to go to. she mentioned some other mall today shore hills or something.

I read it then started to think. He's an idiot it's Short Hills Mall and super expensive.

How much money do you have? I wrote and passed it back.

I don't know enough I hope like 150. I Can borrow some from my brother

Borrow some from your brother take her to SHORT HILLS MALL then take her to one of their "casual restaurants" then BOOM you got a date. P.s.it's Hella expensive!!!!!!! :-)

I wrote and passed it back. Then turned my attention back to math. We we're doing some crazy x over y divide by the radical ridiculousness. Tyler tapped me

"Thank you I love you so much!" He whispered with his hand on my shoulder."

"I know you do. I am me afterall."

"Seriously thanks you're a lifesaver! You're amazing."

I smiled and said "You're not too bad yourself, Ty."

We went back to x over y divide by the radical crap.

_//////////////////////-

Thirty minutes later as soon as the bell rang guess who I saw? If you guessed phony and annoying weave flipper then you guessed right.

"Oh sweetie there you arrrrreeeee!" Her annoying PHONY high pitched voice screeched. I didn't even try to stop my eyes from rolling, I swear her voice make me want to stab my ears out.

"Hey baby. You're looking hot today." More like basic I thought. She really wasn't that cute. She was a couple inches shorter than Tyler who is 6'0. She had very light mocha brown skin. And her weave was dark brown at the roots and slowly turned blonde. I won't lie she was pretty but there wasn't much to her other than that.

"Oh thanks baby. How's my hair?"

"Great."

"Just great? I thought it was at least gorgeous."

"I hate to interrupt the love fest going on here but are we going to lunch or?" I said.

"Oh Jaleia, there you go again, still here. How about YOU walk away and we'll catch up, yeah?" Said Mariah.

"Yeah, I'm not in kindergarten so no need to talk to me like I am. I'll be at lunch. Bye Tyler. BYE Mariah." I said walking away. She makes sick. Like puke, vomit, and bodily fluids. I started walking to the cafeteria, I stopped at my locker. Once I got there I stood at the front of our table. Mariah and Tyler had already gotten there Mariah was sitting in my seat but I ignored her.

"Sup." Said Tyler who was the first to notice my presence.

"Hey Ty." I said. I cleared my throat and spoke in a loud voice.

"Attention table of mis amigos. My birthday is in one week shortly before the dance. This has been your warning."

"I think we all got the text reminder and other not subtle hints." Said Kiara.

"That means I'm doing my job and you will never forget my birthday!" I replied.

"That's cute that you have to remind your friends to remember your birthday. You'd think that they would care enough to remember, but I guess not." Said Mariah. She fake smiled at me.

I smiled back and said "That's cute that you think that you have friends or that they'd care about your birthday."

She glared at me and I have her my "bring it beeyotch" look. She looked at Tyler with puppy dog eyes and whined "she's being rude to me again, baby."

"I thought they taught people to stop whining in like kindergarten but I guess not." I said to Kiara.

"Jaleia that was so uncalled for, can we just be nice for once?" Said Tyler.

"I was telling the truth, number one. Number two, I didn't start anything. If you can't handle the heat stay out the kitchen." I said.

"Seriously!" Said Tyler.

"Watch it pretty boy" I said.

"So where's Jesse?" asked Robyn.

"He's writing said he got inspired and had to write it down right away." Said Tyler. Jesse was super musically  talented. He played five instruments, sang, wrote songs. He wants to work in the music business one day. I hadn't heard many of his songs but the ones I have heard were pretty deep. He likes to be alone when he writes, he even has special pens and notebooks for songs and he hardly lets anyone see them.

"Can't wait to hear it." Said Kiara. Mariah's face turned bitter for a moment.

"Well it's nice to get a break from people every once and a while" she said. She didn't like him because he was one of the only guys who weren't impressed by her looks. And didn't try to hide it.

"So when do we get our break from you?" Robyn asked.

Mariah laughed and said "You're so funny!"

"That wasn't a joke but okay." Robyn said. I started laughing. Mariah was glaring at me.

The bell rang and we all got up to leave.

"Bye peeps!" I said. We all split in different directions. Except for me and Tyler, we both had the same gym period.

"Can you try to be nicer Mariah she didn't feel like you like her?" He said.

That's because I don't.

"Yeah well I'm trying, sometimes she does not make it easy." I said.

"I know she is kinda over the top but she's really sweet when you get to know her,I promise."

I doubt that Tyler, I really do.

"I'll give her a chance, okay?"I said.

"Thanks."

"Whatever."

//////////////////////////

Later that night before I went to take a nap my phone vibrated.

I Looked at the screen.

Text From TylerBaeRules:

Great idea she loved it. Thanx :-)

Something panged in my chest as I read those words. I was glad it went well, I really was. I just wished that Tyler realized how terrible she really is and that he would be with someone else better. I don't know why she bugs me so much but she does. Everyone thinks it's because I'm in love with Tyler but that's not true at all. I've managed to get along with all of his past girlfriends. Sure I might be a little disappointed that Mariah takes up most of his time so we don't have time to hang out like we used to but its not because I'm in love with him. Its because he's my best friend and I kinda miss spending time with him. I sighed and flopped on my bed.

Text To TylerBaeRules:

no prob. Anytime, glad you had a great time! :-)

Text From TylerBaeRules:

G2g at her house ;-)

Text To TylerBaeRules:

Eww.....bye!

Text From TylerBaeRules:

Prude! Don't be mad......

Text To TylerBaeRules:

YOU ARE DISGUSTING!!!!!!!! :-[

He didnt respond. Two seconds later I got another text.

Text From KiaraBestie:

I know you like him.

Text To: KiaraBestie

What's in the past is in the past.

[redwinesiren]

Existential Purpose: C1/?

Master List >

Summary: A pruned Loki wakes up on Earth - our earth, the one outside of Marvel. Pairings: Loki x ofc

A/N: a story with lots of dialogue, general chaos, and our favorite god being a heathen among us

word count: 1500

One single crack of thunder rings. It is loud, but there isn’t a cloud in the sky. She pulls one earbud out of her ear and glances around - everyone walks. A couple laughs into each other, a man walks with his head in his phone, another speeds by on a bike. A dog stops and barks. Someone besides the dog had to notice the sound. Was it part of the song? The dog barks again, their owner tugging on their harness. She follows the dog’s eyes.

There appears a man by the railing of the bridge. Was he there a second ago? He’s slender, with jet black hair. Familiar even. Tall too --he collapses to his knees, resting for a brief moment. Then his face hits the concrete.

Her eyes dart towards him then scan the bridge. The dog barks in the distance, a kid takes three steps past the man on the ground, eyes buried in their phone. Nobody stops to help.

The man remains face down on the concrete. She hesitates, turning over her earbud in her fingers. She sighs, and jogs to him.

"Hey are you okay?" she says, standing over him. He doesn’t move.

She kneels down next to him, hands hovering over his shoulder. They move closer, trembling a bit. Nerves rush through her stomach, pulsing like twisted butterflies. Deep breath. She grabs onto his shirt and tugs him to his side. His eyes dart open. They’re piercing green and panicked. She knows them.

"Oh my God, You're, you're - holy shit!" Her hands drop off of him, shock visible on her face. Breathe. In and out.

"Do I know you? Where am I?" he asks, voice strained and exhausted. He pushes himself up to his knees. His expression softens, eyes scanning her face, scanning the bridge.

She breathes back her adrenaline and extends a hand.

"Are you okay?" she asks, and helps him to his feet. He’s heavy, she pulls hard to balance him. He’s very tall, 6��� 4” at least. Distressed black hair frames his face. His skin is pale, eyes wary. He is slender, but looks strong, wearing a tie and collared shirt tucked into tightly tailored pants. My god, if he didn’t look completely beautiful in person. Tired, but beautiful.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine,” he breaths, hands retreating to his knees as he steadies himself. He closes his eyes, then stands, hands laced behind his head.

Another pair walks by, teens maybe. One looks up from their phone and their mouth drops. They hit their friend's shoulder.

She looks back at him, he’s staring at her. His eyebrows burrow together, his eyes wet and tired. Out of the corner of her eye she sees another dog walker, pretending to kneel and fix their dog, with their phone out. She whispers, "We need to get you out of here."

The teens talk in hushed tones nearby. They had stopped walking, huddled together across the walkway. They take a selfie. The dogwalker, still kneeling by their pup, takes one as well. A young woman walking by notices them. The woman’s eyes go wide as she whips out her phone.

"Why? Am I in danger?" he asks, a bit too loud. His eyes scan the bridge. She can see him begin to recognize what she already did. The nerves kick up again, her cheeks a bit hot.

"Well, not really. But you're gonna draw a crowd like this."

The teens squeal in the distance. Three more selfies. They’re in the background of them all. A couple passes. The girlfriend pivots hard and pulls her boyfriend to the railing of the bride. Hiding behind his shoulder, the girlfriend points and whispers.

He tilts his head, a strand of black hair falling in front of his eyes. "Last time I was on Midgard I wasn't noticed like this."

She pauses, wrapping her brain around his words. She continues, exasperated, "Midgard, what kind of method acting shit is this?"

"Acting, what are you - where I am? Am I dead?" he says, each word growing louder. The strand of hair moves as he speaks. It looks so real. It can't be real.

"What? No. You're looking at me, is this a prank?"

"This looks like Midgard but that looks like a tiny New York. And it's just, I feel different here. Where am I?" he asks, pointing at the skyline behind them. His hair flows with the point of his finger.

"Minneapolis?"

"And where is that?"

“Minnesota?”

He raises an eyebrow.

"Midwest?"

It stays raised.

"United States?"

It raises higher.

"Earth, the planet is earth. What the fuck, why are you like this? Tom, this isn't funny."

His head flips back in shock, hair falling off his face. "Who the hell is Tom?"

"You. You're Tom, or an insanely good impersonator."

"I'm Loki, of Asgard," he proclaims, bringing one hand to his chest while the other rests on his hip. His hair looks too perfect, too real. She had to--

"That's a really good wig." His mouth drops into a frown, eyes horrified. It’s all impulse - her hand bolts for his jet black hair and tugs. It all stays steady.

"Ow, that's not a wig-" he yelps, backing away. She moves towards him, hand extended. Her fingertips brush it again, feel the oil. He swats her hand away pointing as he speaks.

"You will not touch my hair!"

It’s a command, sure, and a menacing tone to it at that, but she couldn’t hide her awe.

"No its just impressive, you look so real. Like exactly like I'd expect Loki to look but also, I don't know."

"What is there some other Loki variant in this realm? Does he rule here? Is that why everyone is staring?" His voice raises with his last words, laced with a hint of anger, addressing the small crowd forming.

Scattered pairs and individuals all stalled in their tracks. None approached them. Instead it was like they were all trying to go unnoticed, trying to observe without intruding. Trying to not be rude. It was so passive. So uncomfortable. So midwest.

"Variant? Tom, I -"

He glares.

"I'm sorry, uh, Loki, I think we should talk about this somewhere private."

"What, so you can kill me? Is this another time cell? Are you with the TVA?"

Some in the crowd stared. Some took pictures. A few were recording, phones angled oddly, obviously pretending to text. The ones that kept walking did so slowly, as if they didn’t need to partake in the scene, as if they couldn’t trust their eyes but had to see.

"No, it's just -how do I put this? You're famous here. "

"For the battle of New York?"

"No, well yes I guess you could say that’s a part of it. No, you're more of a celebrity."

A young girl stares at them, maybe twenty feet away. Her shirt is black, her grin wide, as wide as the face on her shirt. Her Loki shirt.

"I'm famous?"

She nods.

"Admired?"

She nods again.

His lips twist into a smirk. Someone in the crowd snaps a picture, with flash. Loki lifts a hand off his hip and waves.

She rolls her eyes. "We're going to cause a scene. Are you here with anyone?"

"No, I don't think so."

"When did you get here?"

"Just now, I landed over there."

"Landed? What?" She stops. She remembers the thunder, the way he collapsed like he was only visible to her. The way time stopped, the way nobody moved to help but now everyone stopped to stare. He looks so real. His hair looks so real. He looks so alive, but so tired. His hair is distressed. His hair. She hesitates, "Can I pull your hair one more time?"

"What does that have to do with anything-"

"Just, please? I need to make a call here, I need to know."

He contemplates it, chin in hand. "Okay sure. Do it, pull my hair."

She reaches out, slowly at first. She grabs a fist full of hair. It’s greasy. She tugs.

"Not that hard!"

She laughs. It’s so firmly rooted. "So it's really your hair?"

"Yes, yes it's my hair. Tell me why -"

She sees it, right then - "Tom - Loki - look."

She grabs his shoulders and spins him, pointing it out. It’s a bus, a bus with Loki’s face, eyes stooped, smile mischievous, and collar on his neck above the TVA logo on his jumpsuit. The lettering reads Loki season finale, Wednesday. Loki frowns.

"Is that, me? But how? The collar, is this some sick joke?"

"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I live around the block from here. Why don't you come with me, we can talk about this."

He eyes her up and down.

"What, do you think I'm a threat?"

"Well you do look a little terrifying. Weak, human, but feisty."

What a condescending asshole. God of Mischief indeed. "Well I'm going to walk home. You can follow me or stay, I don't really care what you do. If you do stay, conjure yourself up a hat and put it on the ground. You could probably get tips, it's a good impersonation."

A/N: There's more coming but anywhere you want to see them go I'll take them. Future chapters may be longer idk. And the pic is the best I could find for the bus ads I know I've seen.

Master List

[tortuga-aak]

Good news, fellow men: our terrible behavior isn't biological

Strelka Institute/Flickr

The belief that men are biologically inclined to be more aggressive and oppressive is false.

Men do not need to repress a instinct to be aggressive because it doesn't exist.

They are taught from an early age to repress all emotions except for anger which leads to violent outbursts.

Toxic masculinity upholds this repression leading to many men not knowing how to communicate clearly and to associate women with emotions they deem "inferior".

  While bent over locking up my bike in Chicago a few years ago, I heard the all-too-familiar sound of a wolf whistle. I turned around to get a look at the jerks accosting some woman on the street, only to realize I was the one who was being cat-called.

A man passing by from behind had seen my long curly hair and tight jeans and mistaken me for a woman. When I turned around to face him, he was shocked and started apologizing profusely. In so many words, he was saying: "This is an unacceptable way to behave toward a man." And we both knew, if I were a woman, there would be no apology.

This is the double standard at the heart of masculinity: Men are taught to regularly say and do things to women that they would never say or do to other men, that they would never want men to say or do to them. That is not due to some timeless "male libido" driving their behavior.

It's because masculinity is founded on the myth that men alone are rights-bearing persons and women are subordinate, passive, second-class beings who either need the protection of or deserve to be subjected to men.

In a recent New York Times op-ed, however, writer Stephen Marche uses some outdated Freudian ideas about sexuality and gender and the recent explosion of allegations of sexual misconduct to argue that male sexual desire is inherently brutal and oppressive.

Thus, there's no use, as Marche puts it, in "pretending to be something else, some fiction you would prefer to be." So, feminist ideas are practically useless. The only fruitful thing men can do to respect women as equals is repress their natural urges.

In truth, the very problem with masculinity Marche describes in his op-ed is too much repression: The rules governing masculinity require men to be stoic, to repress virtually all of their emotions (except anger). This leads many men to severely underdevelop their own ability to analyze and communicate about their own feelings. Our culture, not men's nature, has enforced this emotional repression.

Indeed, every man can think of at least one experience where he was punished for failing—whether intentionally or accidentally—to obey the dictates of these masculine rules. I remember a playground game where my friends and I would re-enact scenes from Disney films.

I volunteered myself for the role of Ariel from the Little Mermaid. She was the protagonist and, it seemed to me, the best character to be. My peers bullied and teased me for this failure to obey the rules of compulsory masculinity for weeks afterward, and "Ariel" became a standard go-to insult in arguments.

Scott Barbour / Stringer

This policing of masculinity is the reason why the vast majority of fist fights I've witnessed between men were preceded by trash talk in which the men called each other "little bitches" or "pussies." The worst thing a man could be accused of being is feminine, since femininity is, in contrast, just another word for weak, passive, and fit to be dominated by other men. (This kind of masculinity is not just responsible for misogyny then, but for homophobia and transphobia too.)

This is the kind of masculinity that also teaches men they don't have to ask permission to act on their sexual desires. They're supposed to take charge and have no reason to respect women's autonomy. This is what feminists mean when they say sexual harassment and assault are about power, not desire.

It's our culture, not our libidos, that shapes the way men act upon otherwise healthy, run-of-the-mill sexual desires. In itself, there is nothing inherently brutal in a man who is sexually attracted to a woman he works with—no more than there would be if a woman desires a man she works with.

But there is a difference between discreetly (or silently) deriving pleasure from someone's presence, on the one hand, and imposing one's desires on that person, especially if they're unreturned or unwanted. The difference here, as the feminist philosopher Sandra Bartky puts it, is the difference between healthy eroticism and rituals rooted in toxic ideas about masculinity.

If a man wants to act on his attraction, or sexual urges? Here, communication, the very thing modern notions of masculinity train us away from, is key. Genuine communication is a two-way street; it presupposes that both participants have an equal right to withdraw from the interaction or decline an offer. Men already understand this to some extent, because this is how men typically behave in interactions with other men.

So, relating to women as equals, as genuine peers, doesn't necessarily require repressing desire. Instead, it requires coming to terms with the fact that masculinity trains men to have great difficulty recognizing women—or, indeed, anyone that presents as feminine—as persons, as agents, as authoritative and worthy of respect, and then making an effort to see and treat them that way.

In 1945 only 24 percent of Americans thought women should be allowed to hold jobs outside the home. In that same year, 25 percent of Americans thought there were often good reasons to pay men and women different amounts for doing the same kind of work. But by 1993 that number had dropped to 13 percent—and women's workforce participation rate had doubled.

In 1987, 30 percent of Americans said they agreed that "women should return to their traditional social role of remaining in the home." In 2012, by contrast, only 18 percent said this. Thus, it's no surprise that in the past 20 years, the number of dads who stay home with children has dramatically increased and men in general are spending significantly more time parenting their children. Masculinity and femininity are changing quickly, and both men and women are the better for it.

Instead of calling for repression, we should stop punishing children and adults for failing to obey the unhealthy dictates of masculinity—men need less repression, not more. That this would make for a less violent, sexist (and transphobic) world is reason enough to see it as a worthy goal. But, so, too would it free men from a great deal of anxiety, self-hatred, pain, and loneliness.

A few years before my own experience with a catcall, I saw a young woman walking down a Chicago street with a milkshake in hand. A man watching her pass by shouted, "Titties!" at her. Without skipping a beat, she turned around, threw her milkshake at him, and continued on her way. Those of us on the street chuckled in admiration as the man stood dripping from head to toe with chocolate milkshake.

Was this a man overcome by brutal sexual desires he needed to better repress? I don't think so. This was a man who needed a wake-up call that the woman he was shouting at was a person, not an object for him to dominate. Maybe the #MeToo moment will be just that for a lot of men, and we should consider ourselves lucky not to get our wake-up call served up so icy cold.

NOW WATCH: The world's largest pyramid is not in Egypt

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[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 09 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 2.1 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

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{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

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For Better Or Worse

You sigh when you find yourself back in a hospital bed, eyes adjusting to the light. Blinking a little, a sharp pain on both your knees make you groan, pushing yourself up.

“Slow down, slow down.” Keanu is suddenly by your side, gently pushing you back down. “You need to rest.”

“I'm alright.” You mutter, a hand coming to lay on your stomach.

“I know, beautiful. But try not to get too agitated.” Keanu caresses your cheek, leaning down to peck your lips. “I'm so sorry about the journalists. I make some calls and I'll have them all fired.”

“No, Ke, don't do that.” Taking his hand on yours. “They were just doing their job, and it's not their fault I'm... Like this.”

“They know about your condition, is all over the news. That was unacceptable.” Keanu is angry. You've never seen this angry before. Pushing yourself into a sitting position, you place his hand over your belly.

“I'm fine. We're both fine.” With your forehead touching his, you assure him, keeping your voice soft and sweet.

“I know, I just...” His voice fades, his hand gently rubbing your belly. “When Laura called me I almost lost my mind.”

“Yeah, but I'm here now.” Kissing him again, you hold Keanu close. “Do you think you can take me home? I'm sick and tired of this hospital.” You plead, hoping the doctors won't make you stay.

“Don't worry, they'll discharge you later today. They just need to check if everything is okay with you and the baby.”

“Alright.” Feeling relieved, you lie back down as Keanu settles down on armchair placed next to your bed. “Ke... About earlier today...” Biting your lip, you can't control as your float back to that moment, and you're suddenly a little hot.

“It was yesterday. You spent the night here.”

“Oh...” That sucks. One more night away from home. “Well... About yesterday, I really–”

“I'm sorry, (Y/N).” Keanu cuts you short, elbows on his knees as he looks down before raising his eyes at you. “I shouldn't have kissed you like that. I should've controlled myself and–”

“I really liked it.” Interrupting whatever nonsense Keanu is saying, you speak up. Despite the burn in your cheeks, you need him to know it. “And I... I didn't want you to control yourself.”

“(Y/N), I–” He stops talking when someone comes in, and you look at the door, watching as Dr. Wright comes in.

“Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Reeves.” He says with a smile. “How are you two today?”

“I'm fine.” You answer, feeling as the bed moves up until you're in a half-sitting position. You're tired of this hospital since you're always coming and going for many appointments. “Can I go, home doctor? I fainted because of the questions and flashes, but I feel alright.”

“Don't worry about that. You're recovering well, physically at least, and since your exams came out good, I'll let you go home after we have a little chat, is that alright?” He stands by the edge of the bed, an expression on his face you can't read.

“Sure.”

Dr. Wright takes a deep breath, exchanging a glance with Keanu. You take a look at your husband too, and you wonder if he knows what this is about.

“Mrs. Reeves, we already told you that as times passes, lesser are the chances you'll recover your memories.” He begins, and you immediately sink, looking down at your hands. Of course, you remember it, you just didn't want to think about it. So you pushed everything back, focusing on what's happening now. The pregnancy, trying to fix things with a husband you don't know...

“Yes, doctor. It was one of the first things you told me.” Nodding, you mutter.

“From where we stand now, the brain is healing... So it means that, if absolutely nothing came back until now–”

“It probably won't.” You finish it off for him, trying not to let them notice how your hands are shaking, clenching them into fists.

“Well, there are extremely rare cases, but I can't give you false hopes. And since things have been going well for you, there's no reason to.”

“It's alright.” Clearing your throat, you take a deep breath. “Can I go home now?” Your voice comes out louder than expected, as anger starts kicking in. At what, you have no idea. Probably at yourself.

“Here are the papers.” He hands them over to Keanu, alongside a pen, and you watch as he signs them.

You're silent on the drive home, eyes on the city passing by, heavy gray clouds making everything a little monochromatic. When you get home, you take a long shower, hoping it would help. It didn't. As you come out of the bathroom, you make your way to the window, staring at the rain falling. That makes you finally break, bitter tears rolling down. This isn't fair. With a hand on your heart, you start moving. You need to be outside, you need to do something to get rid of the sadness, growing roots inside your heart.

Rushing through the house, on the tip of your toes not to let Keanu listen, you reach a door on the first floor that leads to the garden on the side of the house. Taking a deep breath, you slide it open, shivering when the cold wind hits your skin. But still, you step forward until the rain is soaking your clothes and hair. But it doesn't make you feel better. It only makes it worse, and you're crying, sobbing.

Your tears are mixed with the cold rain, and it doesn't take much until your soaking wet. But it doesn't matter. You need this. Dr. Wright is right, you won't remember. Nothing has come back. Not in dreams, not in flashes, nothing. When you sleep, your dreams consist of things you learned after. Before the accident, everything is blank. Forever lost. An entire life, childhood, teenage years, gone.

Keanu doesn't want to think much. There used to be a deadline for this lie. Until she remembers. Until she gets her old life back. And he bought the idea. He'd be her husband until that moment, and then, (Y/N) will probably hate him forever. But now... If that day never comes, what will be of them? Of him, whose heart is already on her possession?

Keanu doesn't want to think about that either. About the fact that he's falling for her, drowning in the fake life he built for her sake. As he sits on the kitchen table, looking for something different to cook for (Y/N), his mind takes him back to the day before, when he kissed her in a way he shouldn't have. He knew he had to stop, but he didn't have it in him. She's too beautiful, and she wanted him. At least that's what he thought. The feeling of her hands on him was too much, and if it wasn't for Laura's call, he doesn't know if he'd have stopped at all. His mind was a blur, completely overwhelmed by her.

Putting his phone down, Keanu rests his head on his hands, struggling to push those images away. Her kisses, her touch, her soft breathing. Her. This is driving him crazy, and part of him wants this to go on forever. Keanu wants (Y/N) to be his wife. He wants it to be real. He needs it to be real. He just doesn't know what to do.

A sudden thud makes him look up, and the low yelp that follows has him up to his feet, walking over the source of the sound. His heart almost stops when he sees (Y/N) on the living room floor, soaking wet, sobbing, hugging her knees.

Your thigh burns from the fall as you pull both your knees to your chest. Now, you don't know if you're shaking from the sobs of from the cold. It doesn't really matter. A sudden touch on your back snaps you out of your state and, looking up, you see a very worried Keanu staring at you.

“(Y/N), what happened?” He asks, but you don't have it in you to answer. So you just throw your arms around his neck, an apologize stuck in your throat for getting him all wet. “It's alright, beautiful. It's alright.” He whispers in your ear, softly rubbing the small of your back. “Tell me what's wrong, beautiful.”

“I-I want to remember, Ke...” You mutter, voice all messed up by all the crying. “I haven't had anything. Dreams, flashes, nothing... And I want to. I want to remember my childhood, school, and I want to remember you. Our life together, all of it. And I was trying not to give it must thought because I'm really happy right now, with you but–”

“Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe.” As he speaks, Keanu picks you up, immediately carrying you upstairs. You're holding on to him, hiding your face on his neck, and trying to control the sobbing. He places you down somewhere, and you only notice it's his bathroom when he pulls away. You're seated on the sink, watching as Keanu takes a towel, wrapping it around your shoulders before taking another and starting to dry your hair.

“I'm sorry.” You mumble, finally calming down a little.

“It's alright. You needed this.” He stops before you, a towel in his hands, keeping a certain distance. You're about to question that when you notice he's trying not to position himself in between your legs. Keanu is such a gentleman. “You haven't broken down about it yet, and Dr. Harris warned me about this.”

“I just...” You don't know what to say, so you just take a deep breath, grabbing Keanu's shirt and pulling him to you. You don't mind him being this close. You need him, now more than ever. “If I didn't have you Ke, I... I don't know what I'd do.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you feel as the towel falls from your shoulders.

“You won't ever have to know.” He assures you, a hand caressing your chin. “For better or worse, in sickness and health. Forever, sweetheart.”

“I'm falling in love with you.” The words come out fast, as you look into his beautiful dark eyes. “All over again.”

His lips break into a smile as he moves even closer, his sides brushing on the inside of your thighs. “I love you, (Y/N).” He whispers before bending down to kiss you.

• • •

The whole sky is coming down tonight as you watch the flashes of lightning that light up your room every once in a while. You've been trying to sleep for quite some time now, but all you manage to do is toss around, uncomfortable. You know exactly what you want to do, but you can't seem to gather enough courage.

Pushing yourself up, you run a hand through your hair. If you don't do this now, you'll just sleep here again. And you're tired of the guest room. Keanu is right there, two doors across the hall, and it's stupid to be here all alone when you can just go there and be with him.

So you swallow your cowardice and move, leaving the guest room and only stopping when you're before his door. He's probably sleeping by now and trying not to wake him up, you carefully turn the handle and push the door open. Keanu keeps it unlocked in case you need him. But the moment your close it behind your back, he moves, getting into a sitting position and eyes easily finding you despite the darkness.

“Sorry... I didn't mean to wake you up.” You have to raise your voice a little to make yourself heard through the small distance and above the sound of the rain. “I just... I think I'm ready to sleep here with you now.” Slowly, you walk to the bed, stopping by the edge. “If that's alright.”

“Of course it is.” He says, and you climb on the bed, still timid, lying down next to him.

You can see his face when lightning crosses the sky, and it makes you smile. Even though you're right next to him, it's not enough. You want more, so you hold your breath as you move, slowly at first, snuggling closer to him. “I-is it alright?” You mumble, stopping suddenly, holding your upper body with your elbow.

“Come here,” Keanu says softly, pulling you down until you have your head on his chest.

That's when you finally feel comfortable, eyes closed as you feel his breathing, as you listen to his heartbeat. “Can I sleep here from now on?”

“You don't have to ask, beautiful. This is our bedroom. And it's great to finally have you here with me.” He places a kiss on the top of your hair and you softly caresses his chest.

“This is good.” A thunder swallows your voice, so you repeat. “This is very good.”

“It is, beautiful.” His huge hand comes to your belly, gently rubbing it. “It is.”

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