#pro fandom hack: become friends with me

[lovemesomesurveys]

What would you call your body type? Very thin.  Are you a morning person? Meh. Prior to coming to the hospital back in May I actually had stared becoming a morning person. I had a morning routine I looked forward to. I go through phases, though. Generally I’m not.  Have you ever been to Target? Numerous times, I love Target. Do you like iced tea? Eh, it’s okay. I couldn’t tell you the last time I had any.  When is the next time you'll be at work? I don’t have a job. 

Do you have a savings account? No.

Has anyone ever hacked your accounts before? No. What color bedsheets are currently on your bed? They’re white with gnomes on them.  Have you ever been to Disney World? No. If so, how many times have you been? -- Does grammar and capitalization mean anything to you? It does to me.  Are you good at wrapping gifts for others? I’m not the best, but I enjoy doing it.  Do you have a dirty clothes hamper in your room? Yes. What would you say is your favorite television show? I have several.  Do you enjoy big holiday dinners? Yeah, but it’s been a few years since we’ve had one.  Is your vision good? No, hence the glasses.  Is there any piece of jewelry you're constantly wearing? No. What is one thing you desire as of now? I want to get better and go home. What kind of phone do you have? An iPhone 12 Max Pro.  If you could move anywhere, where would you choose? Hm, I don’t know.  Do you have any obsessions? Yeah, all the fandoms I belong to.  Do you blog a lot, if at all? You’re lookin’ at it. This is my side blog, I have my main one where I post a lot.  Is your present hair color, natural? Yes.  What makes you the most angry when it comes to people? How close minded people can be.  Describe your current outfit? I’m just wearing a blue hospital gown.  What was the last thing you ordered online? A couple of coloring books.  Have you ever felt as though you were drifting apart from a best friend? Yeah, I’ve experienced that a few times. Now I’ve drifted apart from everyone.  What color are your eyes? Brown.  Have you ever worn color contacts? No. I’ve never worn contacts, period. Just the idea of putting them in and taking them out freaks me out.  What's the best thing about a hug? They can be comforting.  Biggest fear? Never getting better or getting worse.  If you have a significant other, how long have you been together? -- Do you know any genuinely friendly people? Yes.  Do you buy your friends gifts? I did when I had friends, yes.  What was the last thing you plugged in? My phone charger.  How old are you? I just recently turned 33. Blehhh. What color headphones do you own? I have a pair of yellow bluetooth wireless Beats.  Have you ever shopped on Urban Outfitters? Yes. They’re so expensive, though.  Where do you buy the majority of your clothing? Boxlunch and Hot Topic.  Would you rather wear necklaces or earrings? I like both.  Do you consider yourself fortunate? Yes, I know I am in a lot of ways. I need to remember that when I’m going through really hard, dark times. Like now. Do you enjoy watching fights? No. I never understood why when there was a fight at school why everyone had to rush over and watch. I stayed far away as possible.  Have you ever been in a physical fight? No. Do you tend to talk badly about people? No. Where are your parents as of now? At home, asleep.  Does your computer cooperate most of the time? Yes. Does your family have any cheesy traditions? Maybe, but I love our traditions.  When did you last go to a book store? It’s been quite awhile...like 2-3 years.  What's the closest book store where you live? Barnes & Noble.  How much money do you have on you right now? None.  Favorite personal feature? Nothing.  Are you wearing make up at the moment? No. Favorite television channel? I mostly watch The Hallmark Channel, MTV, TV Land, UpTV. I have some stuff I watch on The CW and Freeform as well.  Describe any piercings or tattoos you might have? I just have my earlobes pierced.  Have you ever been fired from a job? No. I’ve also never had a job. Are you currently losing a best friend? No. Describe the worst day of your life: The one that made me a paraplegic at 7 months old is definitely one. That day changed my life forever and led to a series of obstacles.  Do you play any video games? I like Mario Bros.  Would you say you hate anyone? No. Do you think freckles are cute? They can be.  Last time you went to the mall? About a year ago.  Name something that's your favorite color: I have several favorite colors.  Have you been to Red Lobster before? Yeah.  Do you follow a certain religion? Yes, Christianity.  Who is your role model, if you had to choose? My mom. Would you rather have nice hair or lips? Nice hair.  What are you most self conscious about? Everything? Especially right now. It goes beyond my physical appearance as well.  Do you have any family members who live out of town? Yes. Some live out of state.  Do you consider yourself short? I am. What room are you in? A hospital room.  Hoodies or jackets? Hoodies.  Are you outside a lot? No.  Have you ever been dumped via text message? No, but via Facebook Messenger.  Favorite crayon color? Hmm. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? I don’t have one. Do you think autocorrect is a blessing or curse? It can be annoying. I feel like the suggestions are often wrong.  Do you believe in any particular curses? No. Ever play a Ouija board? No, I don’t mess with stuff like that.  What movie scares you the most? There isn’t one, really. I love horror movies and I’ll get creeped out or on the edge of my seat while watching, but when it’s over I move on. It doesn’t deeply affect me to where I have nightmares or feel afraid.  What was your bedtime as a child? Hmm, I’m not sure. It was probably like 8, maybe 9 as I got a little older.  Reason why your favorite holiday is your favorite: I love everything about Halloween and Christmas--the weather, the decor, the scents, the colors, the food/goodies, the coziness aspect, the movies, the songs, buying Christmas gifts for my family... it’s just a nice time of year.  Do you work with any close friends? I don’t have any friends.  Do you consider yourself spoiled? I feel like that word has such a negative connotation, but yes. I envision spoiled brat, and I am not that. I am grateful for everything my family has and continues to do for me.  Do you listen to any country music? Some.  Have you ever taken a keyboarding class? Yeah, my freshmen year of high school it was a required class. I had been typing for a long time already by then, but whatever.  Favorite high school teacher: Mr. Coffey. He reminded me of Rob Dyrdek in both personality and looks. He also loved the Red Hot Chili Peppers, which he’d have playing before class. That was around the time Stadium Arcadium came out. He also played other alternative and emo music, which I was into.  Do you ever get drunk? I haven’t since I stopped drinking almost a decade ago.  Have you ever had highlights before? Yeah, for several years. Favorite number: 8. Do you still sleep with any stuffed animals? I have a few that sit on my bed.  What is your biggest regret in life? Not taking care of myself.  Do you enjoy social situations? No. Would you say you think you have a mental disorder of some kind? I do. Are you normally an independent person? Not so much now... I’m very dependent on my family now due to health reasons. Right now I’m completely dependent as I’m laid up in a hospital bed. Do you like to be organized? Yes.  Have you ever failed a class before? Yes, I failed a math course once in community college and retook it. I had a better professor the second time and that made a difference.  Ever been judged because of your weight? Ohhhh, yes.   What is your favorite breakfast cereal? The sugary ones, ha.  Ever had a wish come true? Yeah. Do you regret meeting any of your exes? No, I don’t. I have no bad feelings towards either one.  Do you own any coloring books? I own several.  What's the meanest thing someone's called you? I’ve said the meanest things to myself.  Have you ever bullied someone? No. Do you ever watch Lifetime? I did when I was younger, but it’s been a long time. My mom and I used to spend the weekends binging Lifetime movies.  Ever tried to intentionally sabotage someone's grade? No.  Do you own any brown clothing? No. What color are your walls painted? White.  Last thing you drank: I think it was Pepsi, but that was almost 3 months and a lot happened since then so my days are a little blurred. Have you ever seen a tornado in person? No. Do you have an inground pool at your house? No. What is the first digit of your phone number? -- What's the prettiest town you've been to? Hmm.  Lake Tahoe.  Do you tend to sleep a lot? Not for the past month. I was at home and the first month and a half or so while in the hospital cause I was on IV pain medication that made me drowsy.  Silver or gold jewelry? Both.  Do you sometimes celebrate holidays early? I start decorating a little early and doing things associated with that holiday, like watching Christmas movies and playing Christmas music. Once September hits it’s fall to me and I’m ready to get into ~spooky season~ and then after Thanksgiving it’s Christmastime.  Have you ever been in love? Yes, twice.  What's the best gift you've ever received? I couldn’t possibly choose.  When was the last time you showered? I haven’t had an actual shower in almost 3 months, just bed baths.  Would you consider yourself attractive? No. Definitely not right now. I thought I was bad before, but my appearance now... big yikes.  Has anyone made you mad today? No. Favorite smell: I have many and I don’t feel like listing them right now. I listed them recently in a survey.  Are you afraid of insects? YES. Do you have any children? No. If so, what are their names? -- Would ever consider having children in the future? I don’t want to have kids.  Have you ever lived on a farm? No. Ever played any sports? No. Do both of your parents have jobs? Yes. Where is the best place you've been on vacation to? Disneyland and beachy towns. Are you, for the most part, an honest person? Yes. Did you make prank phone calls as a child? My friends and I in middle school did that before. So stupid.  Do you like to make donations? Yes, though admittedly I haven’t done so in awhile.  Favorite movie at the time being: I have many. What is your current ringtone? One that came with the phone. Does anyone still buy ringtones? I never hear song ringtones anymore now that I think about it... I always just hear one of the ones that come with the phone. Plus, I think a lot of people tend to keep their phone on silent.  Meet anyone from your past lately? No. Have you ever called a teen suicide line? No. Have you ever caught something on fire? Yes. Ever been obsessed with a show? Ha, yeah numerous shows. It’s what I do. If I like a show then I have to go in full force haha.My main blog right now is a lot of Stranger Things cause that’s one of current big obsessions.  What type of perfume or cologne do you use? Bath & Body Works body sprays.  What's the last book you read? I’m currently reading, A Time to Die by Elle Gray.  Dream career: I have no idea.  Have you ever climbed a mountain before? Ha, no.  At what age do you plan to get married? I don’t.  Ever been in a car accident? No.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #long survey

[sorrydearie]

💡

💡 Tell me a headcanon (and who you wish would write it)?

(cracks knuckles)

I’ve been dropping subtle hints at @bi-and-dangerous that I’d like some more Flavors of Lust, and I cannot wait for her to add more to this amazing series. I also, like a spoilt emperor child, requested an AU for my birthday - half a year in advance. That’s how much I stan her: I’m impatiently counting down the days til December. 

Now, I would pay good money to see @czpla write more smut, because Curiosidad owns a large part of my soul. I re-read it at least once a week, you know, as one does when one is obsessed with their friend’s writing. Totally normal. 

#pro fandom hack: become friends with me #and gain access to my rambling headcanons #I frequently drop into Boom's or Shotgun's DMs #and just go 'professor / student AU Go' #because I am a demanding little thing like that #Anon #ask

[nellie-elizabeth]

Supernatural: Carry On (15x20)

Oh my god. Lol. So... did Andrew Dabb forget to read back through his finale script one final time before deciding it was finished? Because like... Dean says "if we don't keep living, all that sacrifice (Cas and Jack) will be for nothing." Cut to a comically short time later, where Dean dies and is just like "time to go, let's not keep fighting, I'm tired lol."

Like WHAT did I just witness. I'm so grateful, in this moment, to a little show called The Magicians, because in April of 2019 they ended their fourth season with such an egregiously terrible decision that I literally couldn't sleep for a week, I was shaking and intermittently sobbing, I had never felt so betrayed and devastated over any piece of media before. After that, I've sort of become numb to bad endings, and this is no exception. This episode was absolutely terrible and I'm just sort of like... meh. I'll ignore it. Whatever.

I do want to forego the usual "pro" and "con" sections in this review, and do a more traditional full-on ramble about my thoughts, because they're kind of convoluted, if I'm gonna be honest.

The first thing I want to say, is that this wasn't the worst finale I've ever seen. Objectively, it was a terrible episode of TV and an insulting wrap-up to a fifteen-year-show. But I have a very specific category for the worst finales ever, and those are the ones that provide endgame states for the characters that are... unfixable in a post-canon but still-canon-compliant world. So, for example, the How I Met Your Mother finale killed off the titular mother and betrayed years of buildup, and that's a real-world sitcom. There's no resurrecting people from that shit. Or like. Game of Thrones being an obvious recent example. The Rise of Skywalker is a good movie example.

This? It's a little different. The endgame state of Sam and Dean and Cas is that they all die and spend eternity in Heaven, where they get to be with all their loved ones. I mean, sure, we don't get to see that, we only get a throwaway line to imply that Cas made it out of Super Turbo Hell The Empty, but that's the endgame state of the characters. And that's more or less what I would have wanted, as like a... years after canon situation. Right? So yeah, this was a bad episode, but if I edit in the shit I wanted to see, none of it contradicts the canon in a way that's not workable. It's a sad world we've come to where this is all I can really grasp at, but there is a perverse sort of comfort in that.

So, should we talk now about how Dean dying is a betrayal of what they said this whole season, and maybe whole show was about? Ha. It's so ridiculous. It's embarrassing. I watched Dean's final moments and I was embarrassed for Jensen. For Dean. For all of us watching.

Just. Watch the end of 15x19 again, okay? Watch it, and hear what they're saying. Yay, we killed God, we killed the author of the story, which means we get to write our own stories, finally. We get to do that. After all this time, we're finally free. And what does freedom look like? It looks like Dean dying on a run of the mill hunt.

We get this little montage of Sam and Dean at the Bunker, you know? They're doing laundry and going on jogs and cuddling with Miracle the dog, and they're brushing their teeth and going on hunts, I guess. And the emotional resonance from that scene was just kind of... ennui? And boredom? And that's what's so terrible and depressing about this ending. It's so empty, because Dean didn't get to do the thing he said he was fighting for. Sure, he was always fighting for Sam, but he should have been able to fight for himself, too, right? He should have been able to fight for a life after the years of programming. He should have gotten to be a rock star or a chef or worked at an animal shelter or become a foster parent or grown old as Sam's brother, as an uncle to his kid. He should have been able to find love, if he wanted that.

Look, I'm not even mad that Dean died in a "mundane" way. It's not like "nooo Dean is too coooool to die in such a laaaame way, he's a bad-ass and he should have gone out in a blaze of glory!" That's actually not what I'm mad about at all. Sam died old in his bed, and Dean should have been able to do that too. This whole season, since finding out that Chuck was the ultimate big bad, was supposed to be about free will, and Dean never got to figure out a way to be happy and find peace. That's fucking dour and stupid.

I kept saying, in the buildup to this finale, that a depressing, grim-dark ending to this show would be a failing of the themes they set up, and, hey, they didn't go grim-dark, because the writers did not think this was grim-dark. They thought it was powerful and emotional and resonant. You can tell they thought that, even though they're... uh... what's the word. Wrong? Yeah. Wrong. You know what I realized while watching this? It was just a lamer, less resonant and appropriate version of Sam's sacrifice at the end of season five.

Right? Because after Sam yeets himself into hell to save the world, Dean just has to keep going, and as Cas says, "you got what you wanted, more of the same." Just... more of the same. And Dean couldn't hack it, he was miserable without Sam, and Sam came back and we got ten more years of the fucking show. And now... what, we just get that in the other direction? Because Sam is the strong one and can soldier on without Dean because his codependency was a little less crippling? Wow, what a great ending for him, I guess. It doesn't work because we've seen Sam without Dean, and he falls apart too.

And now the show ends with Sam alone. Sure, he gets married to a blur in the background and has a kid, but let me ask you a question, here. Did Sam... want to be a father? I didn't know that was a thing he wanted, that would make him happy, honestly. I had no idea. So this doesn't seem like it works as something even remotely satisfying as an endgame state for him either. It's bleak.

And it's bleaker because there's nobody else in this fucking episode, y'all. The other big theme in all of Supernatural, after "free will" would be "family don't end in blood." And guess what? Apparently it does? Apparently Sam and Dean are each other's whole worlds and nothing else matters? We get... an implied wider world but we don't get to see it. We don't get to see Eileen, Jody, Donna, anybody left alive for Sam. So from the standpoint of characters that we know and give a shit about, Sam loses Cas, Jack, and Dean and lives the rest of his life lonely and sad. Nobody else even comes to Dean's funeral. It's just Sam alone with the dog. Like... that's bleak.

This ending gave the fucking Wincest shippers everything their hearts could desire, for fuck's sake. Like. Why did they cater to that and not follow through on the idea that they had created a family and community beyond each other? You know, this thing called character growth?

To take a brief break from the negativity, I will say something here about Sam and Dean. In the weird hysterical euphoria of the whole Destiel thing a couple weeks ago, I lost sight of something, which is that for me, the draw of this show has always been the relationship between Sam and Dean. I was never a brothers-only person, but it was their fucked up codependent bond that drew me to the show over the years. I loved the idea of Destiel, but I never thought it was going anywhere, so really I loved Castiel, the character, separate from the context of his relationships. Having a big dramatic death scene where Dean says "I love you so much" and there's a forehead touch and Dean saying "it's always been you and me" and confesses that he was scared to get Sam at Stanford because he didn't know how to survive if he didn't have him, and to have Sam say "don't leave me" and then give Dean permission to go... I mean, all of this is catnip, right? All of this is great, like, in isolation, it was such an amazing "broment," as the fandom says. I mean, it made no sense with context, it was utterly insulting in every way, but Jensen and Jared acted their lil' hearts out and I could tell they were really in the moment.

So let's talk about Cas for a second, while I have you here... they never should have done the big gay confession. They just shouldn't have even fucking bothered. I'm telling you, that makes this whole thing worse. It felt completely intentional and weird that Dean never acknowledged the confession, never told Sam, never had a moment where he specifically reckoned with Cas' loss. But that's what I knew would happen. I knew it in my blood and bones, and as the meta started pouring in, I knew people were getting their hopes up for nothing. See, Cas saying "goodbye Dean" and the handprint on the arm... I knew that was their catharsis, that was the writers' and Misha's big goodbye to the character of Castiel. They thought they fucking nailed it. I knew we wouldn't see him again.

Like I said before, I have to be satisfied with an endgame state that doesn't totally suck, right? So, we get this throwaway line from Bobby that Jack fixed Heaven and made it not suck, and that Cas helped. This implies a multitude of things that are... comforting. At least Cas doesn't get that dour, dark, helpless oblivion that I worried he'd get. We can assume Jack plucked him out of the Empty, that he gets to be with his son, and that, if the fic writers so choose, Dean and Cas can have lots of gay sex up in Heaven. I think Misha not being in this finale was frankly a slap in the face to one of the biggest and most important characters the show has ever seen, you know? And I think that they kept him out of it so we could have Schrodinger's Destiel. Because if we'd seen Cas in heaven, and he hadn't confessed his big gay love, Dean could have been like: "hey Cas! Buddy! Good to see you, my friend." But since we did have the love confession, whatever Dean did upon seeing Cas would have to mean something in that context. So instead we didn't get to see him at all.

Which is stupid.

Also stupid is that the big sacrifice was to save Dean's life and then a couple weeks later he gets impaled on a rusty nail and dies anyway. Thanks for making the whole thing feel so utterly pointless and empty. No pun intended. Wow, they did Misha dirty, here, didn't they.

Turning back to Sam's ending, let's just talk about that for a minute. Like I said, I'm happy he got to live a long life and die an old man, what Dean always wanted for him. But nothing about that ending was more poignant because Dean was gone. In fact, it just made it super duper depressing and lame. There was no reason Dean couldn't have gotten a happy life, too. It adds nothing that he died young and unfulfilled. Like, you know how people joke about the end of the Titanic, where you see that Rose's Heaven is reuniting with Jack and everyone else on the ship, and people will say "well, gosh, that's kind of a slap in the face to Rose's family" since she clearly got married and had kids and grandkids? This is literally that! Like, having an ending where a young-again Sam Winchester gets to Heaven, and his whole Heaven, the thing that he needed to find peace after death, was a return to his brother... look, I'm not mad about that, but what the fuck about nameless blurry wife that we couldn't even confirm to be Eileen for some reason? What about everyone else?

And did Sam... keep hunting? Did he go to law school? Maybe there were background details that confirmed what he ended up doing with the rest of his life besides becoming a husband and father, but I didn't see evidence of it because I was too busy rolling my eyes out of my skull at how dumb this all was. So Sam just gets a generic "raking leaves in the yard" ending, like we saw for Dean at the end of season five, with nothing to challenge that. Even though we've seen why life outside of hunting, life without Dean, isn't satisfying for Sam, we're now supposed to accept it as how he spends the rest of his life, without seeing him put the work in to get there?

One thing I realized watching this episode is that it tries to play the middle. Like, with the Cas thing, they didn't want to make his noble gay sacrifice totally meaningless, so they couldn't just pop him back into the story, but they did give us one single throwaway line to reassure fans that he's not still in The Empty. So, people who don't give a shit about Cas can assume he's off being Jack's assistant and doesn't really interact with humans in Heaven. People who do give a shit about one of the show's main characters can assume that he has a home in Dean's little Heaven neighborhood too, and they all get to buddy around for eternity. People who don't like Eileen? Well, Sam married some nobody who we never got to meet. People who liked her? Well, you can't prove that wasn't Eileen, can you? Even Dean driving around in the impala waiting for Sam to die so he could finally be happy with his fucking soulmate or whatever. Time in Heaven is weird, Bobby says. It's metaphorical. You could assume that the driving montage was actually intercut with other moments, with Dean getting to see dear old mom (and dad, I guess, but ugh), and spending time with Bobby, with OG Charlie, with other familiar faces, and new ones as they finally reach their own deaths on Earth and come up to party with the rest of the gang.

Like, in a better show, in a world without Covid, maybe they had plans along these lines, to get more guest characters back and show Dean getting sappy hellos to a bunch of side characters in Heaven. To be quite honest, I would not have been mad about that. If you're going to make Dean die young and never give him the chance to find out who he could have been when the choices were all his own, which is, in case I haven't made that clear, a horrendous and insulting ending for his character... at the very least you could have given us the cheesiness of seeing him hug his friends in Heaven. Jeezus.

I want to hammer in this point one more time before I wrap up: they ended the show by saying that character development didn't matter. They had Dean's dying speech be a meta reference to the pilot episode of the show, they had him saying "it's always been you and me" and then they confirmed that with everything they had. Sam became a father, but did he have a happy life? Seems like he pined away for his dead brother for decades and then died. If the pilot had never happened, if Sam had stayed at Stanford and Dean had gone on hunting by himself, you know what would have happened? Sam would have had a "normal" life and married a woman and had a kid, I guess, and grown old, and Dean would have died fighting some vampires in a barn. This show has been on for fifteen years, and the ending did not honor anything about the journey the characters had been on.

A particularly egregious example is the early scene with the pie festival, where Sam is like "I'm sad about Cas and Jack" and Dean is like "if we don't go on living it won't honor their sacrifice" like... yeah, I get it, bringing people back from the dead time and time again is supposed to be a bad thing that Sam and Dean did for each other because they were selfish. So Sam giving Dean permission to go was supposed to be a growth moment. Sam and Dean accepting that Cas was gone and not even asking Jack to make sure he got sent to a happy eternity instead of oblivion, that's supposed to mean they've learned their lesson. And what a fucking lesson to leave things off on. Jesus, this is grim.

So like. As I try to figure out what to say at the end of this review, I will point out one glimmer of light in the darkness, which is that this finale isn't going to ruin the rewatchability of the show for me. I can still come back and re-watch without feeling like the whole thing is ruined by the ending. It's more than I can say for some other shows.

But honestly, if this was the ending we were going to get? Why the fuck not leave it open-ended? I did not enjoy 15x19 particularly well, but at least that episode left them on the open road, with a wide future ahead of them. Anything might have happened. It's their turn to write the story, right? Chuck is dead, the writer is "dead", the show is over, and now the possibilities are endless. That would have been an anticlimactic ending, for sure. But this ending just turns around and slaps the whole point of that first ending in the face and says "haha bitch you thought". They don't get to write their own stories. We see exactly how those stories end, and it's lame. Leave something to the imagination, yo. Leave it vague how and when they died, what their lives turned into. Show them in Heaven, getting to their peace at last, reuniting with their friends, including Cas. Put in a significant glance between Dean and Cas, and leave it to the internet to go wild about what it could mean. And never answer when fans ask "so what happened, when did they die? Did they keep hunting?" Just leave it vague. If this was the only ending they could come up with, I'd rather be left with questions.

This finale gets a low score from me, because they couldn't even pull on the right heartstrings to make me sentimental...

4/10

But the show as a whole? Well, it was a mess, and it had some seriously high highs and some devastatingly low lows. It's a bummer that the lowest low came in how they tried to wrap up the whole shebang, but like I said, this ending isn't going to ruin the whole fifteen-year run for me. We get to make up what happens next, and we can make Jack's new and improved Heaven our post-canon fix-it haven. I don't think there's ever been a show in my life quite like Supernatural. The fandom is so bonkers. The meta narrative of the show is so convoluted and twisty and goes in so many unexpected directions. I liked watching this show for its own sake, and also as like... an anthropologist trying to discover something about humanity and American values specifically. It wasn't always a pleasant experience, but it was one I know I'll never forget. My heart tells me to give the show as a whole a high score, representing the many, many hours of joy and dread and delight and horror I got over the near decade I've personally been watching. How do you wrap up fifteen years in a score out of ten?

9/10

#review #supernatural #supernatural review #spn #spn 15x20 #spn finale #lol y'all #it's been a JOURNEY

[timeagainreviews]

The Doctor visits Villa Diodati... Again

It’s rare that an episode of Doctor Who can upset the fandom before it ever airs. Even rarer is the fandom actually having a valid reason for being so hacked off. The reason for this week’s outrage? That would be none other than the inclusion of the famous writer Mary Shelley into the story. If you’re a fan of Big Finish, you may know already that Mary Shelley acts as a bit of a companion in the Eighth Doctor audios. So when she shows up with the Doctor on the same night when she meets the Eighth Doctor, you start to wonder if anyone thought to actually check.

There’s a really great thing called the TARDIS Data Core. It’s a wiki maintained by the type of meticulous nerds (see: me) who care about this sort of thing. And it’s absolutely free to use. So if you want to throw in someone like say, Houdini, you can read up on the many instances when the Doctor met the man. I’ve said it before, and I will say it again, Doctor Who writers have a bizarre fascination with that man. I won’t fault Maxine Alderton for having not listened to the audios with Mary Shelley. I’ve only listened to one of them. But hell, check the damn wiki.

The world of Doctor Who gets its mileage out of perception filters. They play a huge part in the mythology of the show, and especially tonight’s episode. Maybe this is why the Thirteenth Doctor doesn’t remember her travels with Mary Shelley, it’s filtered out. And maybe that’s why when Lord Byron answers the door to Villa Diodati, he reacts with shock despite the massive windows with a clear view of the Doctor and her companions. Was he shocked by the fact that literally nothing changed? Pro tip- if you’re going to show someone surprised by who is on the other side of a door, wood is more effective than glass.

The Doctor and her companions have arrived at the Villa Diodati in the rain-soaked summer of 1816. The very same rain that has relegated Lord Byron, Mary Shelley, Claire Clairmont, and John Polidori housebound, has also forced the TARDIS crew to seek shelter at the villa. The episode wastes no time reaching for cliches as the Doctor says to her companions to brace themselves for meeting some of the greatest minds of human history, only to have the door open to a room of drunken buffoons. They did the exact same joke when the Tenth Doctor met Shakespeare. It’s not egregious, but it’s played out none the less.

Rebounding from cliches, director Emma Sullivan gets some great horror movie vibes as the appearance of a skeletal hand stalks through the house like a spider looking for prey. Clips of ghostly apparitions flicker in and out of existence. I was already very excited about where this was headed. Lord Byron is quite taken by the Doctor, who pays him very little mind. But this doesn’t stop the sleepwalking Dr Polidori from getting jealous when Claire appears to be flirting with Lord Byron. Much of the information about these four is conveyed by their proclivity to gossip, which I thought was a very clever way of sneaking a history lesson into the story. Once again, they’re making better use of edutainment moments by incorporating them into the story.

However, it is Lord Byron who has Claire’s eye. Unfortunately for her, she doesn’t stand a chance against the Doctor, or whoever catches Lord Byron’s attention that week. Claire laments Lord Byron’s mixed signals in a conversation with Yaz, leading Yaz to convey her own issues with someone she fancies. She never outright says it’s Ryan, but I’m guessing it’s Ryan. I’m also guessing we’re still doing that? She also very well could have meant the Doctor. Meanwhile, Graham is lost in this labyrinthian house whilst searching for the loo. I love that Graham is the companion that thinks about eating and going to the bathroom. I’ve always wondered why there weren’t more action movies where someone needed to take a piss. You never see Ethan Hunt stop a bullet train while needing to poop. Now that’s an impossible mission.

With Dr Polidori being a sleepwalker, his demeanour is anxious and agitated causing him to take Ryan’s playground trash talk as a major slight on his character. He challenges him to a duel, but before he can put a cap in Ryan’s backside, they’re interrupted by the presence of the skeleton hand. I really have to give it up to Tosin Cole here. His comedic chops this series have been spot-on. Watching him try and fight off a flying hand was just as funny as watching him try to impress Mary Shelley with a stumbling rendition of "Chopsticks," on the piano. After a bit of hot potato, the skeletal hand is taken out of commission by the valet, Fletcher with the serving tray assist. The hand smacks into the ground in a fine powder.

The Doctor reveals that she believes the house is giving off really evil "vibes," and they set about looking for answers. It’s at this moment that the perception filters begin toying with their minds. Stairwells lead down to their tops and exits lead to their entrances. It’s a very wibbly-wobbly moment that leads you to wonder what exactly is going on. Is the house haunted? Does it have anything to do with the bones Lord Byron is keeping at the villa? Why are vases breaking against the wall? Who is this apparition that keeps blinking in and out of existence? Who are the woman and child that supply Graham with a sweet plate of sandwiches?

Stuck in what seems like a time loop, Mary begins to panic as she hears her infant son William crying from a room she is unable to reach. It is then that the sleepwalking of Polidori actually comes in handy as he is able to walk through walls as he is unaffected by perception filters while asleep. This allows everyone to navigate the house by closing their eyes. The Doctor assumes that whatever is happening has turned the villa into a sort of panic room to protect it from something horrible. Perhaps this something has to do with room they’ve discovered which is covered in mad writing scrawled in an alien language. I’ll forgive them the cliche of the madman furiously scrawling walls as at this point, I am fully invested in the story.

It takes them almost no time to discover who the house is protecting them from, as the Lone Cyberman as warned about by Captain Jack arrives looking like Frankenstein’s monster. I absolutely loved the horror movie visuals. The decision not to reveal exactly what the Cyberman was at first, really amped up the anticipation. I knew he was coming at the end of the series, but I didn’t expect him so soon. His image cut like a hunched monster in the darkness of the hallway portrayed a man or monster that has clearly travelled a very long distance to get here. We’ve never had a chance to see a Cyberman look so fatigued and battle-worn. This concept is driven home as we’re able to see the human underneath the mask. One of his hands is left exposed calling back to the Cybermen’s first appearance in "The Tenth Planet."

The Doctor kicks into Doctor mode as she commands her companions not to follow her. The Cyberman goes about looking for "the guardian," which doesn’t pan out too well for poor Fletcher or the maid watching William. However, the Cyberman spares the baby because, after all, this is a family show, and we are still pre-watershed. The Doctor confronts the Cyberman who is unable to attack. Noting his emotions are still intact, the Doctor tries to negotiate with him. This is a rare opportunity for the Doctor to do something more with a Cyberman than exploding his head. However, it would appear this lone mechano man is the cause of all of the freak weather happening, as he recharges himself with a very Mary Shelley style lightning.

Meanwhile, the companions and their new friends have discovered Percey Shelley in the cellar. The Doctor reads Percy’s mind to discover he had found something shiny in the bottom of Lake Geneva, like some sort of sexy Smeagol.  Upon picking it up, it begins seeping into his skin, connecting to his mind where it would attempt to hide from the Lone Cyberman. The object is a sort of intelligent liquid metal known as the Cyberium. Within it resides all of the knowledge and history of the Cybermen. In its attempt to hide, Percy returns home to discover nobody can see him no matter how many vases he throws against the wall. The Cyberium puts up a series of perception filters that obscure him from sight. Who sent it back in time, and why it wants to hide from the Lone Cybermen is left a mystery.

The Doctor is forced to make a decision- ignore Jack’s warning not to give the Lone Cyberman what he wants, or allow the Cyberium to destroy Percy’s mind. Ryan tries to make like this is a simple decision as one life weighed against billions is an easy choice. However, the Doctor’s curt response shows the situation to be far more impactful. I loved her speech about being the lone person at the peak of a summit. That was some "curse of the Time Lords," level pontification which I have yearned so much to hear from Jodie’s Doctor. She almost seems disgusted with Ryan here. She doesn’t hide her contempt for always having to be the strong one. This may be one of my favourite Thirteenth Doctor moments as she seems genuinely pissed about being the one to make the big decisions.

Mary Shelley has a moment that clearly sounds like she was working out the basis for what would become her book "Frankenstein," as she tries to reason with the Cyberman. She sees the monster made of disparate parts, but she also sees the man within. But it would appear that this man within has the brain of a criminal as he thrashes about wildly looking to harm. Percy passes the Cyberium to the Doctor. Once again they touch on cliche by claiming the Doctor is the perfect host for the Cyberium. I found this odd considering they have always said the Doctor is not compatible with Cyberman technology, but whatever. The Doctor makes her decision which is to give the Cyberman the Cyberium. That’s step one of the plan, step two is to fix the problems she created with step one. I’ve never heard Doctor Who so succinctly summed up. The Doctor just keeps putting out fires until the problem is solved. Brilliant.

For now, we’re left to ponder the future of this Lone Cyberman. How will it play into the Timeless Child if at all? Is this the beginning of storyline spanning three different episodes? I’m hoping the answer is yes. That would be really cool to see not just the Timeless Child and the Lone Cyberman come together, but also the Master as well. If Chris Chibnall can actually find a through-line with all three stories, I would be very impressed. There’s a lot to like in series twelve, which makes it almost sad that so many people have been tuning out. I’ll admit I understand the trepidation people may have after series eleven. There was a sort of aimlessness that series twelve definitely does not share.

I wouldn’t sit here and say the entire series has been home run after home run, but I’ve not hated a single episode. Even the weaker efforts like "Orphan 55," and “Can You Hear Me?” were completely watchable. Even if "The Haunting of Villa Diodati," does mess with the Eighth Doctor canon, it doesn’t waste its time. That Cyberman reveal was so effective that I audibly said "Woah!" as he beamed his way into the house. And it’s still too early to say what is and isn’t canon at this point, as the Timeless Child could play into it. We could be dealing with pocket realities or alternate timelines. All could very well be revealed in the end. If not, well, it just gives Big Finish a chance to do what it does best- retcon the shit out of something until it fits. It’s Doctor Who, it can take the strain.

#doctor who #Thirteenth Doctor #Eighth Doctor #mary shelley #Jodie Whittaker #tosin cole #Ryan Sinclair #Graham O'Brien #Bradley Walsh #yaz #yasmine khan #mandip gill #lord byron #lone cyberman #timeless child #cybermen #cyberium #TARDIS #bbc #big finish #Time and Time Again #the haunting of villa diodati

[princeleyjeans]

Why Internet Justice is NEVER fair: An example-

TikTok, basically Vine and Musically’s derpy lovechild, yet as of recently, a place of rising tension, drama, abuse, and constant “My POV of the situation” videos.  Mob mentality: prevalent in society both on and offline, basically whatever you do, say, see will be sliced into a number of pieces and divided amongst hundreds, thousands, perhaps millions and whether you were right, wrong, innocent or guilty, those people, will have an opinion and either take your side wholeheartedly or be against that side or even just not care and be on their own island of “Leave me the fuck out of it”. Can’t blame them, I’m the same most days, unless it’s juicy or I’m just bored and need something to read/judge because as you can tell by my blog, I do not get out much, even before Corona.  The reason for this post? Because I’m pissed.  Why? Because the internet, as always, well, social media, well, TikTok, Well, life generally but we can slap that ass later.  Over the last week, I’ve seen posts about abuse, cheating, manipulation, harassment, all that, and while watching those coming out to present their evidence, I looked at the comments and saw all these people, dismissing them, their evidence, their physical proof/snapshots/convos/pics/etc, these users, were getting laughed at, brushed off, told they wanted/encouraged said abuse/harassment because of what they did for a living, what they didn’t, how they acted and spoke and dressed, even for characters they cosplayed, and I was just sat there, wanting to smash through my ipad and address these idiots because god knows if it was them, they wouldn’t be saying shit like “What do you expect when you make ‘insert character here’ content?” if it was them, and I get that, everyone can be a hypocrite but we do so much to help and support victims of abuse/harassment/assault to come out and get justice, that people thinking this response is fine is just, utterly astounding, it blows my mind how the internet can be so pro, yet also, incredibly, violently anti to anybody, anybody, ironically, mostly those trying to actually get help/support.  The internet is as dangerous a place as it is amazing, and I guess, that’s the thing, pros, and cons, good and bad.....fair and unfair.  Now lemme say a thing, lemme tell you a story that adds to this whole theme:  A few years ago, I was a blog on here, left for so long and came back late last year after being away following a military-grade assault on my account via a bunch of rad stans who decided I was annoying/outspoken enough that they needed to get rid of me whatever way possible, which lead to me being hacked, accused of being a pedophile, assaulting one of their friends (On the other side of the world, even tho I was beyond broke, anxious af and could hardly stand human touch by anyone, including my own family), being a racist, gay fetishist, using my gender identity/sexuality to avoid justice, lying about my parents being dead (They liked to call me adopted/a runway/kicked out because nobody wanted me, lots of lovely things), sexualizing everything (Minors, animals, etc), these people went after my friends, some of whom, were victims of abuse/assault/violence themselves, they received messages similar to the comments in the Tiktok posts, one who was even a victim of child abuse, received sickening messages about how they wanted/deserved it, someone who simply refused to listen/be apart of the drama caused by these people and kept to themselves, they were attacked as viciously by so called “Justice bringers”.  As the arguments went on, any post I made was cut up, repasted and turned into something entirely different, or used in alternate context when literally I could be talking about something made for lunch and somehow it would become sexual/racist/disturbing, I couldn’t sneeze without it being policed.  Eventually, and not all that shocking, I left, after being broken down, hunted, mocked, abused verbally and dropped by people once known as friends, there were even threats of doxxing, which as you can imagine, did not aid my already shattered mental state.  Despite no real evidence, and scraps the radical Stans tried to use against me being debunked quite quickly thanks to my depressed butt never going anywhere or doing anything other than posting online, people turned, a lot of people turned and treated me as though I was guilty, some even demanding I block them because of how disgusting/troublesome I was, despite everything my harassers had being proven as bullshit and obvious lies, their side was taken, users excused their behavior as simply “protecting other tumblr accounts”, doing the fandom a favor and stomping out trouble makers, defending those who couldn’t defend themselves.  As you can understand, that event caused me lots of issues with trust and posting online, some I’m not over today, and even making this post scares me despite best efforts to laugh off everything with dark humor and a smug attitude.  When I was accused, few took my side, those few I’m still thankful for today and cherish because it showed me who my friends were.  But despite being innocent, I was treated as guilty.  And on TikTok, those guilty are being treated as innocent, defended, supported while the sufferers of their abuse are attacked, mocked, treated like the criminal despite having evidence to back up their claims.  Seeing that just hits a sore spot and so, I wanted to make this post.  The internet isn’t fair, but speak up anyway, demand to be listened to and don’t let those who’ve hurt you get away with it, you’re loved, you’re special, you’re wanted, you’re going to be okay, and if someone doesn’t believe you, keep shouting, keep making noise, keep believing yourself.  Get your justice. Nobody should go unheard. 

#I need sleep #support #post #venting #kinda #bye #uhhhh my soul

[chromsai]

Hey sai, do you recommend getting a Twitter? Like how would you say it's different compared to tumblr?

i admit since getting a twitter i’ve spent way less time on here and waaay more time on twitter, but tbh they’re just different platforms for the same social nonsense.

pros to twitter:

if you keep your account on private, your shit will be private

if you block someone while on private, there is no way in hell they’ll see your shit (unless they hack or follow you under a different account)

way nicer platform for venting shit out in small bursts

wider audience (tumblr is very western-centric, whereas twitter is highly active internationally)

due to the aforementioned, there is way more fandom content to go around

group chats (why’s tumblr laggin on this btw?)

pinning tweets to your profile (seriously tumblr could use something like this, i just think it’s really useful for keeping track of certain posts or bringing more attention to them)

polls. polls are always fun.

twitter format easily lends itself to memes and other fun shenanigans

i know for me personally, my favorite part of twitter is the wider range of fanart/fanworks i’ve seen than aren’t ever posted on here just because the artist don’t have a tumblr or arent familiar with it.

cons of twitter:

the character limit is usually nice because it forces you to keep things short, but it can also be a hindrance if you can’t get everything out in less than 280 characters, tempting you to just keep adding replies/tweets to a thread and that can get annoying sometimes

if your account isn’t on private, well then it’s the same as here if you block someone. you can block them but what’s preventing them from just logging off and looking at your stuff anyway? i guess they still won’t be able to interact with you unless it’s with a different account

twitter LOVES to show you the “Likes” that the people you follow Liked/Favorited (seriously twitter it’s like wtf did you make the RT button for?) tho to be fair, i do believe you can change this setting

searching for past tweets can be a bit difficult sometimes

you’ll still find the same stupid people on there that you may have dealt with on here

i keep my account on private for various reasons but i will say sometimes i wish i could “unlock” some of my tweets and make a certain few RT-able without having to switch the privacy settings for my account, but in the end i don’t mind keeping my dumb memes to just my friends and i.

overall tho i will admit... i like twitter slightly more... but i’ve been on this blue hellsite for too long and it’s become a habit to come back here and plus i have no intent (right now at least) of just abandoning my blog. plus, gotta say... the humor on this site is... sometimes really... unique.

#colorfulwatcher #ask #reply #maris

[kari-izumi]

Mokuba’s Reason Why Not: Chapter One

Or, “Hey, Kari is Finally Gonna Post That 5+1 Fic She’s Been Dropping Hints About Since Forever”

So, finally…finally, I have something I can live with for this prologue. This was originally 900 words, and now it’s over three times as long. And I don’t think I’ve ever edited a story this many times as I have this one chapter. I’m still not 100 percent, but I need to feel like I’ve made some progress in any part of my crumbling life, so here it is.

I haven’t posted on AO3 yet just in case anyone here has any suggestions to make it stronger before going live (it’s not beta'ed since I’ve been outta fandom for years and I’ve lost contact with most of the folks I used to talk with…but given the pairing, it may have been a hard sell anyway…or not, given the response that this postgot).

So, the premise began with me wanting to write a whole different idea entirely. Actually, two–I tried writing this scenario from several viewpoints but it was far too angsty for my liking. To get into the second idea would be to spoil future chapters. But doing a 5+1 story could incorporate a whole bunch of ideas and characters I wanted to write for as well as to subvert that teen playboy and the prudish nerd girl trope because seriously, did anyone watch seasons four and five and notice how forward Rebecca was towards Yuugi?

Okay, those seasons suck ass, but you know what I mean XD

On that tangent, fair warning: lots of making out in this chapter. I struggled a lot with how um…detailed to make this. Namely to keep as little as possible. And honestly, all the “writing about children having sex at any point in their lives, even years after canon as teens/adults makes you a pedo” bullshit on this site made me nervous about posting this at all. I don’t have a problem with blocking anyone who will ship bash. Don’t like; don’t read applies here. But there won’t be any sex depicted in future chapters.

Beyond that, any comments and critiques are more than welcomed in my inbox.

Title:Mokuba’s Reason Why Not Pairing:Kiddyshipping, with a couple surprise pairings on the side Chapters:1/7 Summary: “Losing his virginity isn’t something he’s planned on in this busy week, but when an intelligent, awesome girl like Rebecca admits to having the hots for him, Seto is out of town and no one else is going to stop them, the question isn’t why he should do it, but why not?

If any two fifteen years old have ability to tell if this is a good idea, it’s them.”

Or, the five times Mokuba thinks he's got this sex thing figured out and the one time he knows for sure what it is he wants.

—  

Fifteen year olds doing homework with their friends happens every afternoon. Normally, it’s for a trig class or Japanese literature or focusing on the college entrance exam.

Fifteen year olds working after class to have a bit of spending money is also common. They have a delivery route or know a family friend in need of a help at the local restaurant.

A fifteen year old girl researching historic artifacts for her university master thesis, five thousand miles away from home is rare. A fifteen year old boy who holds the Vice Presidency of a major gaming corporation whose spending money is more than what most take home in their entire lives is even less seldomly seen.

“We really do have crazy busy lives,” Rebecca remarks on one such afternoon. She holds a textbook open with one hand while writing notes into a tablet with the other. “It’s almost like we’re not even kids anymore.”

From the other side of the desk in his corporate office, Mokuba glances through his own stack of papers; some are contracts to be reviewed, others mundane reports. He’s been at this all day, and if he’s honest, it’s all starting to run together.

It’s not like he has much time to think about stuff like that, least of all these past two weeks. There are times that he wants a bit more normalcy–being able to attend after school clubs or blow off work for a party. But for all that is unusual about his life, he’s content for what it is. He’s got an awesome brother, a set future, plenty of friends–and Rebecca, sitting across from his desk, who understands the pressure of high expectations better than anyone else his age.

Blinking his eyes as he looks over at her, Mokuba says with a wiry grin, “Yeah, but I’ve gotten used to it. I can’t imagine any other way of life. Could you?”

“Eh?” She looks up from her tablet, tapping the pen at her mouth the way she always does when she’s got something she’s contemplating. “I guess I can’t. Even if I wasn’t a prodigy, I think being in high school for four years and gossiping about clothes and boys would have gotten pretty boring anyway. I’m pretty glad for my life and I enjoy all the friends I’ve made in the pro dueling circuit. Like you.“

He sits up even straighter in his seat.

“Its nice having someone my age who isn’t intimidated by me being smart.”

Mokuba feels the room, which is already soundproofed to block outside noise, grow even more quiet as a certain warm, ecstatic feeling comes over him at her words. Intimidated? Her intelligence was his favorite thing about her! “You broke through Nii-sama’s security and helped us get the company back. I guess people might get freaked out, but I think that’s awesome.”

It’s not the first time they’ve discussed DOMA or her crazy hacking skills. But Rebecca usually brags that she could teach him a few new skills and not lower her eyes as her cheeks grow pink.

Letting out a cough, Rebecca asks hurriedly as she resumes scanning through her book, “Speaking of him, when does Kaiba come back from Hong Kong, anyway?”

“Monday afternoon,” he replies. He goes back to his own stack of papers, pretending as he always does that he doesn’t notice or care how much he truly likes having her around. And sure, she’s gotten hot over the past year, objectively speaking; but more than that, her boundless enthusiasm for gaming and school and everything is hard not to get suck into.

Rebecca speaks again. “You looked like you were spacing out for a moment.”

“It’s fine,” Mokuba says automatically as he picks up a new report to glance over.

“Bullshit! Have you even slept in the past few days?”

“Work’s gotta get done. Not like I’m going to school tomorrow.”

“That’s no answer!”

Rebecca reaches over for his free hand, and not even the clearly angry, frustrated scowl on her face negates the sudden jolt of electricity that shoots up through his arm.

“Look, I know a thing or two about all-nighters, and it doesn’t do you or your project any good to burn yourself out. If you work yourself to death like you tell me Kaiba does, how can you help him?”

Realizing that she still is holding his hand–and that somehow, their pinkies have become entwined–they both turn away from each other, but neither moves. Mokuba doesn’t blush that easily with his completion but he does feel his ears burn. “I mean…you’re right about that. I haven’t slept much, but…I’ll try.”

Sighing she says. “No, I shouldn’t bring it up. I know you’re working to keep up the company for your brother. But I can’t help it to bring up a better way of doing things a when I see it.” Rebecca laughs as she adds, quietly, “You probably think I’m too outspoken.”

“What? Not at all! There’s nothing wrong with passion and speaking up. And if other people have a problem with that, that’s their issue, not yours.” He believes this firmly, and looks her square in the eye as he says this. “And I like that you’re direct. You’re like the most honest person I know.”

Rebecca looks like she wants to say something, but closes her mouth. Her expression changes to one of resolve–Mokuba’s noticed the same look appear during her duels when she’s deciding on the best play against her opponent; beyond that he isn’t sure what else to read into it. Maybe he’s said too much, he wonders as she removes her hand from his to close her tablet and textbook, placing them into the bag on the floor. It’s only the training he’s gotten from Seto on how to school his face and emotions when he needs to that keeps him from showing any emotion of his own, as he realizes how nervous he is.

Mokuba watches her stand up out of her seat…

…and walks around the desk, stopping right at his chair, spinning it towards her. His heart nearly stops when Rebecca leans over and places a hand on either shoulder, rolling one thumb on the collar of the blue dress shirt he wore that day.

“How about I show you what I’m feeling?”

Her eyes really more like emeralds when her face is this close, brilliant and clear and reflecting the afternoon sun.

Mokuba has thought about this and thinks of his best line to respond:

“Um…wait, what?”

Rebecca doesn’t seem to mind or care that his brain has short circuited as she coos in a voice that’s far quieter than he thinks she is capable of. “Shut up, Mokuba.”

It happens so quickly that Mokuba doesn’t have time to close his eyes or to move his hands off the armrests. Her lips feel so soft along his and a current shoots through him from the sensation.

Rebecca jumps away suddenly, covering her mouth with her hands. Her eyes are wide in shock.

“Did you feel that…that spark?!” she squeaks.

“Wow…yeah.” He definitely felt that, placing two fingers on his own mouth, which is still a bit tingly. “But I liked it, though.”

He really did…and thinks it could be better. Mokuba stands up and pulls Rebecca close, his arms wrapping around her shoulders as her hands reach for his neck.

“You’re so tall,” she notes, looking up at him with a rapt expression, her voice so quiet.

With his own goofy grin Mokuba tilts her chin up to kiss her again, and hell yeah, this is a whole lot better indeed, being able to hold her close, catching the glimpse of a smile each time they break apart. The air grows still and the light gets slightly brighter through the window and he entirely forgets the rest of the world. So maybe he wouldn’t have picked his office for their first kiss; but then nothing in their lives follows the typical teenage script anyway.

As if by some primal urge that he doesn’t fully understand, Mokuba soon finds himself guiding Rebecca onto the top of the desk. She looks down, being careful not to knock over the forgotten stack of papers before leaning back, propping herself on her elbows.

Rebecca lets out an excited giggle. “You have a chair, you know!”

“Yeah,” he says, resting one hand along her hip and gripping her cheek with the other. “But it’s more fun like this.”

Mokuba becomes very aware of the way her thighs squeeze his hips, pulling them even closer. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

He hasn’t planned any of this, but being a Kaiba, he’s long since learned to roll with the unexpected and wield it to his advantage…and from the muffled sounds Rebecca makes as their mouths connect, she’s enjoying this a lot. And he enjoys that she’s enjoying this as the languid, chaste kisses soon give way to deeper, more intense ones each time they separate for air. Their tongues meet,  tentatively at first, then more often; their hands begin roaming along backs and hips and twisting into one another’s hair as the silence in the room is filled with increasingly louder, heavier, more ragged breathing.

“…Mokuba?”

“Mmmm…?”

Rebecca pulls away, her cheeks a dark red, looking down briefly as she asks. “…that’s not your cell phone, is it?”

He freezes immediately, feeling his face growing heated and his mouth goes dry. “Umm…no,” he whispers.

It comes back to him right now–that conversation that he had with Seto a few months ago about biological urges taking over rational thought in the heat of a passionate moment and promise me you’ll take a minute to think it over, Mokuba–or rather, that Seto insisted on having with him over breakfast, the morning after the last tournament. Next the actual sex talk two years ago, it was easily the most awkward and out-of-the-blue conservations Mokuba could remember, and he still hasn’t figured out what exactly prompted him to bring it up when he did.

Maybe Seto realized somehow that this exact situation was going to happen, sooner rather than later.

Rebecca–rather than being bashful by…well, him–is grinning wickedly. “I’m glad.”

Mokuba can barely register her implication as she rolls her hips against his, hooks her legs even tighter and sucks down on a spot right behind his ear and that–that entirely throws his rational thought away so thoroughly that if he wasn’t so entirely turned on, it might have scared him to think he could lose control of himself this quickly–to grab a tight hold of her hair as he lays her back into the smooth wooden surface, being urged on by the noises as he kisses her neck, and desiring to grab her hips to test out how truly soundproof this office really is–

“Mokuba-sama,” he hears.

They both freeze, and the temperature in the room plummets instantly as everything comes crashing back into focus. Mokuba snaps up straight as his eyes instantly focus towards the door that he’s sure he didn’t lock to find it still firmly shut.

“It’s just the intercom,” he tells her, sighing in relief.

“I guess you have to get that soon…” says Rebecca. Her smile is unusually relaxed, even for her.

Mokuba gives her a slight grin in return.“If I don’t pick up, he’ll worry and call Nii-sama.”

“Hmmm.”

“Mokuba-sama, are you there? I have the tournament scheduling you asked for.”

Taking a moment to steady his breathing again, Mokuba reaches out for the intercom button, trying desperately to keep his voice flat and neutral. “Yeah, I’m here, just…can you leave it by the door?”

There’s a slight pause before Isono replies, “Yes, Mokuba-sama.”

Apart from the shock of nearly getting caught, a part of Mokuba is thankful for the interruption. What the hell was that?! He rubs at his face, feeling as though he’s coming back into his body as he remembers the other part of Seto’s talk: a list of all condom brands available in every country Kaiba Corporation did business in.

“Damn, that was too close,” he says, after a pause, low under his breath.

“I’ll say. I don’t what Isono would have done if he’d saw us like this,” Rebecca says with a sly smile and a wink.

Mokuba decides against any clarification on that as he pulls her up, helping her off the desk before pulling her into a chaste hug. His cheek rests against the top of Rebecca’s head, taking in the comforting scents of bright yuzu lemon and sweet jasmine in her hair.

“I’m sorry,“ he says.

“For what?”

“Because I didn’t even think about using…um…when we were about to…”

Rebecca catches his meaning and the smile is beaming as she kisses his cheek. “You silly. It’s sweet you were worried, but I’ve taken the pill for awhile anyway…just in case.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

The thought that Rebecca has been thinking about this…with him…for a while is a huge ego boost and flattered is too weak a word to describe the feeling that comes over him. But then, she’s one of the smartest people he knows.

She continues, not meeting his eyes as her face goes from a slight pink to deep red. “You’re the first guy that I’ve really felt like I wanted to…um, I mean…well, you know.”

“Me, too,” he replies. Maybe he hasn’t given nearly as much planning, but this afternoon…damn. Mokuba doesn’t remember a time when he’s smiled this much or felt so alive. “That was so crazy intense. I felt like…wow.”

“I know.”

There’s a look in her eyes, Mokuba notices–the one Rebecca gets when she’s got a plan or an idea that, he knows from experience, she won’t let go of. But there’s something else behind it this time, and realizes she had a similar look right before they were interrupted–

“I think we should do it.”

Her arms tighten around his back, clinging onto his shirt, her eyes oddly serious.

Mokuba isn’t sure how far his jaw has dropped. Rebecca has never exactly been shy about going for what she wants; she certainly wasn’t earlier. But stating it so plainly just makes it all so real.

“What’s with that look?” Rebecca’s smile doesn’t quite look as natural as usual. “Didn’t you want to do it earlier?”

“Well, yeah,” Mokuba says and squeezes her shoulders more tightly, and he’s never been so aware of his own heartbeat. “But this is moving a little fast, isn’t it?”

“Eh?” Rebecca snaps her head up, scanning the office with a look of disbelief. “Look at where we are! Our whole lives have been moving fast for as long as either of us can remember. At least this is our decision.”

“Shouldn’t we go on a date first?!” 

“Well obviously, we’d go out to dinner first. I have standards.”

“That’s not what I mean!” he sighs, closing his eyes. “I mean, I really want to…you know…but we just figured out that we like each other like that. Why rush?”

“Is this any more crazy than you missing class to run a company or me having yet another degree before I can legally drive here or back home? Kids our age are doing it anyway–”

“Did you really just–?”

She places a finger to his lips. “–and we obviously click. Why would we wait?”

Mokuba opens his mouth to counter, but nothing comes out. Rebecca isn’t wrong; he knows all the reasons kids their age are told to wait, but the biggest one–ruining your future–would hardly apply to them. He’s already lived through things that would have entirely broken many others. In nearly every other way that matters, they might as well be adults already.

Even if Mokuba isn’t exactly sure he’s ready for that step right now, there isn’t anyone else he would even consider sharing this with…so does it really matter if they do this now or in a few months anyway? The newly awakened part of his mind reminds him of the excitement of wanting to melt into one another, hearing her cry out in pure bliss at his touch; the images quickly crush the nagging voice that says slow down because you want more than just sex.

“Not like anyone would stop us anyway,” Mokuba points out. Arthur Hawkins still resides in San Francisco in between his archeological digs, Isono he’s sure wouldn’t breathe a word of it to anyone as long as he comes home before Seto gets back–

Shit.

As far as he knows, Mokuba officially has more first hand knowledge of this subject than Seto does at twenty years old. How would he even begin to approach this subject with him? Would Seto even understand? Or try to stop him?

“You said Kaiba won’t be back till Monday?” Rebecca asks as though she could read his mind.

Mokuba blinks a few times as the realization kicks in. “Yeah…”

Maybe just this once, Seto doesn’t have to know anything about this at all.

Rebecca strokes behind his ear, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, Saturday works?”

Losing his virginity isn’t something he’s planned on in this busy week, but when an intelligent, awesome girl like Rebecca admits to having the hots for him, Seto is out of town and no one else is going to stop them, the question isn’t why he should do it, but why not?

If any two fifteen years old have ability to tell if this is a good idea, it’s them.

He reaches for her neck to bring her in for a quick kiss on the forehead as he says, “Let’s do it.”

I bet I can totally feel her up now.

He goes for it, slipping one hand into the opening of her shirt.

–and gets his hand slapped hard.

“Ow!”

Rebecca cheerfully waves a finger at his nose. “Nuh-uh!”

“But–!”

“Nope!”

“Weren’t we gonna do it earlier?!”

“Yeah, but it’ll be way more exciting to wait, won’t it?” She giggles as she pulls away and claims her backpack. “Besides, it’s only two days. I’m sure you can wait that long.”

Mokuba honestly doesn’t know how he’s managed to live this long without it!

“Can’t I feel over the shirt?”

“Hmmm…” Rebecca pretends to think on it, tapping a finger against her chin. “No, that’d be way too distracting when I get home. Sorry!”

“Distracting how?”

Rebecca doesn’t respond as she heads towards the door, only giggles. “You’re way more innocent than I thought…oh…”

The tournament schedule that Isono left, he remembers. He walks towards the door and reaches down for the folder.

“Oooh, I wanna see who I’m up against!”

“Sorry, Rebecca,” he says. “You know I can’t show anyone that.”

“Awww! Not even a hint?”

He pretends not to notice the hand that reaches his arm as he taps the folder lightly on the top of her head. He’s grinning as he replies, “Won’t it be more fun to wait?”

They lock eyes; a second later they’ve pulled each other into another searing kiss, but Mokuba breaks it off before either can get carried away again.

“Saturday,” he tells her.

Rebecca blinks, her hand lingering on his chest for a second before taking a step back and heads out the door. “Yeah…see ya.”

Mokuba takes his folder back to his desk, but sets down without opening its contents. There’s no way he can go back to his work now or even go to sleep with thoughts about Rebecca–

Distraction.

…oh.

He suddenly feels a bit distracted himself at the thought, regretting the decision to have this suit tailored so snug to his lithe frame. Mokuba growls, running both hands in his hair.

It’s going to be a long two days.

#mokuba kaiba #rebecca hawkins #kiddyshipping #yugioh #yu-gi-oh! #fanfiction #5+1 fic #finally fucking done #i have outlines of future chapters so no danger of this being abandoned #mokuba's reason why not #lots of making out #doesnt cross lines but it uses it as a jump rope #rated t/pg 13

[robininthelabyrinth]

Coldwave Prompt: “But what if I fall?/Oh, my darling, but what if you fly?”

Fic: Daydream Believer (AO3 Link)Fandom: The Flash, Legends of Tomorrow (mostly characterization)Pairing: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, background Lisa Snart/Cisco Ramon, Lisa Snart/Iris West/Eddie Thawne, Patty Spivot/Barry Allen

Summary: Everybody’s always wanted a chance to live out their wildest childhood dreams.

It just so happens that Leonard Snart, mild-mannered structural engineer, dreamed of being a comic-book style supervillain.

———————————————————————————————-

Everybody’s got dreams.

Some people have dreams that take them when they’re children, dreams of what their life could be, should be, glorious dreams that make you wake up with a smile on your face.

Some people get to live those dreams.

Others…don’t.

It’s not that Len doesn’t like being a structural engineer! As jobs go, it’s incredibly fulfilling, though he still wistfully wonders what would’ve happened if he’d taken accounting instead like he’d originally wanted. He’s got a masterful hand for design and a way of thinking that lets him visualize his buildings in perfect 3D in his head. Hell, even his hobby – studying the blueprints of buildings throughout the city to analyze them for security weaknesses and figure out how he could do it better – is work-related, so clearly, he enjoys what he does.

It’s just, you know.

It’s not what he dreamed of as a kid.

Of course, when Len was a kid, he dreamed of becoming a comics book style supervillain.

It’s not exactly a real job: you don’t see it on the quizzes suggesting what college major might be right for you, or job hunting on the Internet, or well, anywhere, really. It’s just the dreams a of a child.

Len doesn’t regret taking on the loans he did so that he could keep Lisa in his care, showing that – although young – he was a college student on the Right Track instead of a corrupt cop with a penchant for mob-related (and unsuccessful) theft or a junkie who only sometimes remembers that Lisa’s her daughter. He’s paid off those loans and he’s put Lisa into college and he’s, you know, doing okay. Got a good job, nice apartment, the works. He’s content. Maybe not happy, but content.

He still wishes he lived in a superhero universe, but hey, what can you do.

He figures that’s the end of it – keep going the way he is; now that he’s made partner at his firm and can do whatever the fuck he wants time-wise as long as the job gets done, he can presumably devote some time to finding a nice girlfriend or boyfriend or non-binaryfriend like Lisa keeps hinting at – and it would be, except for the Particle Accelerator explosion.

He’s working late that night, sees the flash of light outside his window, sees the news stories in the weeks that follow. A few months later, the first weird incident occurs. A little later, another.

The online community proposes that these incidents are actually caused by people – people who have been granted special powers by the Particle Accelerator explosion, like comic-book gamma rays except that they didn’t actually kill you and they did actually give you superpowers. These people are dubbed ‘metahumans’.

Len thinks it’s so cool.

He didn’t get any superpowers, of course – his life is not anywhere near that awesome – but he immediately runs to that great information consolidator, the Internet, to find out more. A few months in, he’s joined a chat group with the various Internet self-proclaimed experts on the subject of metahumans: Patty (taking police academy lessons so she can save up money for an eventual career as a CSI, whose Instagram pics of suspected metahuman sites are second to none), Kadabra (works in Mercury Labs, does freelance scientific analysis of various incidents, also weirdly obsessed with stage magic for some reason), Axel (high schooler with an attitude problem, but lots of free time to run errands for the rest of them), and, of course, Iris (metahuman blogger extraordinaire, always first on the scene – he thinks she works as a barista, but her dad’s a cop and she has smuggled out crime scene descriptions so even beyond her in-person investigation, she’s a glorious source of news-news-news. He keeps telling her to apply to be a journalist somewhere.)

It’s just a hobby, though.

Well, at first.

When the Streak appears, it’s – it’s not just a hobby anymore.

We’ve got a superhero!!! he texts the group, along with a picture stolen (hacked) from a speed camera. It shows definitively that the bolt of lightning is – as they suspected – a metahuman, not a force of nature.

I KNOW OMG, Iris responds immediately.

I haaaaate police academy, Patty sends. I want to be OUT THERE already!!! with the METAS!!!

Just skip, like I do, Axel texts.

You skip one more day and I will cut you into pieces in my lab, brat, Kadabra replies.

Seconded, Len sends. Structural engineer – I know where to bury body parts.

WTF, both of you, Axel says. And they say teenagers are morbid.

You more than most LOL, Patty sends.

What if he’s a danger?? Kadabra sends, ignoring the part of the chat that rapidly devolves into rude emojis going back and forth.

He’s been doing good work, Iris objects. Stopping bad guys.

We don’t know if they’re bad guys.

Uh, they’re trying to KILL PEOPLE; they’re bad guys.

I’m just saying, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with a superpowered metahuman deciding he can take justice into his own hands, Kadabra writes.

Kind of the definition of a superhero, Len notes.

Some of the people the Streak has stopped have disappeared, Patty says. Gotta say, it’s a little worrying.

For some reason, that’s what twigs the idea in his mind.

That old childhood dream.

Len stares at the chat, his friends going on and discussing the pros and cons of vigilantism, especially when superpowers are involved. Discussion of how balance works – whether the superhero is the response to the metahuman threat, or whether the superhero will act as a lightning rod to draw in more crazies – discussions of who watches the watchmen –

Guys, he texts the group. I think I’m going to become a supervillain.

OMG, Patty texts. Really???

Dead serious. That way I can keep the superhero on his toes & make sure he’s not murdering people at random, plus if any new bad guys show up, I’ll be able to get the first scoop.

I am so in, Iris texts. You have to tell us EVERYTHING.

You get me photos, I will give you my soul, Patty says.

I can help with lab analysis, Kadabra texts.

Oh, god, yes, me too!!! Patty throws in. Team Supervillain is definitely on as of right now!

We need a better name than that, Axel puts in. And I don’t know if I can do anything –

Stay in school and keep an eye on the rumors, Len says. I don’t want to get, like, a dumb name or anything.

But ur not a meta, Axel replies. The streak will kick ur ass.

I’ll figure something out :)

Len clicks out of the chat.

Hey, you know what they say about dreams. Shoot for the moon; you might land among the stars.

Not his fault his dream’s a little unorthodox.

——————————————————————————————————————

The first heist is easy enough to plan. A couple of drunks from the bad side of town, a handful of badly guarded diamonds, a really interesting use of liquid nitrogen, and suddenly everyone else in the slum part of downtown is convinced that he’s some super-thief from out of town despite his fairly heavy Central City accent.

He pays the guys out of his bank account – it’s amazing how little they’ll accept on the grounds that fencing diamonds is hard – and mails the diamonds back to the owners with some suggestions on how to improve security.

He’s not really expecting to get mail in return asking if he’d be interested in seeing if he can crack the security around the Kahndaq Dynasty Diamond, because they’re bringing in a very good fake – it is Central City, they’re not stupid – and they’d really like to know before they take the real Diamond on tour, but hey, it’s as good an excuse as any.

He gets a crew together.

And then the Streak comes.

OMG OMG OMG, Patty texts. Did he touch you???

He punched me, Len texts back, amused as ever by Patty’s enthusiasm.

HOW ARE YOU NOT DEAD, Kadabra writes. SPEED = FORCE; SPEEDSTER PUNCH = DEAD LEN!!!

Maybe Len has no mass, Axel writes, clearly sitting in his science class at school.

It’s my lack of gravity that does it, Len writes back immediately, and grins when everyone sends him little dagger emojis.

He goes searching for something that’ll help him stop a speedster. He’d thought liquid nitrogen would be the answer – speed and cold, after all – but if he can’t even see the Streak, he’ll never be able to use it in a controlled manner, and he’s got to be cautious about these things.

Luckily, with his name, his family history, he can walk into the worst bar in Central and everyone will go ah, yes, Snart – he’s one of us.

The squirrelly man who sells goods from STAR Labs is a godsend.

(One who Patty proceeds to bag as her very first police arrest on the force, thanks to the evidence Len sent her; she’s very pleased.)

Len’s a little worried about whoever bought the matching heat gun before he could get there, but whatever.

He’s got a Streak to fight and a diamond to steal.

——————————————————————————————————————

CAPTAIN COLD, Iris texts gleefully. CAPTAIN FUCKING COLD!

I am the COOLEST supervillain, Len replies, equally gleeful.

Fuck you and the puns you came in on, Axel texts.

Just chill, Axel, Len sends.

I hate you.

No need to be so cold.

HATE.

Guys, I think Axel’s freezing me out. What do I do?

FLAMES ON THE SIDE OF MY FACE!!!

Oh, he’s breaking out the Clue references, Iris types. Now we’re really in trouble.

Did you get the diamond? Kadabra asks.

Yeah, I’ve got it. Gonna send it back, of course, but right now it’s a great paperweight. Beautiful piece of ice.

Fuck you so bad, Axel writes. How are you simultaneously this awesome and this dorky?

Says the high schooler in the metahuman conspiracy chatroom, Len types. We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t dorks.

Still, well done, Iris writes. Icing the train was a work of genius. Very supervillain.

I’m still not sure how the Streak managed to turn what would have otherwise been a relatively minor slippage disturbance on the tracks into a fully-fledged train wreck, but whatever, Len replies. At least he also got everyone out.

And the awful night train is gone and the city finally has an excuse to replace it, Patty says happily. She’d had to ride that train for a while. They’ve already gotten approval from their insurance people; they’re so crazy happy right now. You’re everyone’s favorite supervillain.

Len smiles. He’s got the best team.

I want to know everything, Iris says. Not just what you gave me to put on the blog.

I’ve got a lead on who the Streak is, he tells her smugly. And he does, too – the faces of the Streak’s accomplices were unmasked, just right out there like they’re asking to be looked up online. And where you find accomplices, you find the mastermind – or, well, the hero.

Coffee. Tomorrow, Jitters, noon. OR DIE, she writes back immediately.

Oooh, RL meet-up! I’ll be there, Patty writes.

Bah, work; no way I’ll make it, but you’d better catch me up later, Kadabra writes. Axel – don’t even think about it.

Yeah, yeah. No worries. Tomorrow’s chemistry; I’m not skipping it.

Awww, our budding little chemical engineer, Patty coos.

With my sister in mechanical engineering, I think we’ve got the whole set, Len adds.

GOTTA CATCH ‘EM ALL, Patty writes.

So, CAPTAIN COLD, what’s next? Iris asks.

Len just smiles.

——————————————————————————————————————

Being a supervillain is basically better than anything Len could have possibly imagined.

He’s Captain Cold, now; people call him Cold instead of Snart, the bartender puts on Cold as Ice every time he comes to the bar – he has a theme song! – and he has an action figure.

People are still figuring out the whole Streak/Flash thing, since they can’t see him, but Captain Cold, they’re pretty damn sure is a villain.

Really, all he needs is an excuse to get the Flash to come and fight him one-on-one, and everything will be perfect. But he knows better than to just go out with the cold gun, flash it around – hah! – and hope everything will work out fine.

Kidnap one of the Flash’s teammates, Iris suggests. She’s got a rather wicked streak to her.

Are you sure you don’t want to be a supervillain, too? he asks.

Let me think of a theme first, she says. Right now I’m enjoying being the Flash’s favorite reporter.

I am rather curious as to why he chose you, Patty says. No offense, you’re great, but there’s a whole city of reporters with way more publicity than your blog gets.

I’m pretty sure he works with my dad sometimes, Iris says. Dad has been REALLY squirrelly about the whole metahuman/Flash thing. He’s even convinced my otherwise awesome foster-bro to try to talk me out of writing about the Flash because it’s ~~dangerous~~

Let me guess, Patty says. It’s OK for them because they’re guys, but you’re a delicate flower that needs to be protected.

Iris is the opposite of a delicate flower, Len writes. Iris will raze this city in her wake if she feels like it.

Awww, Len, you say the nicest things, Iris says. Still not sold on becoming part of your supervillain club. Which, FYI, you still need to name.

Villains United? Kadabra suggests.

Legion of Doom? Axel sends.

No, Len says. Relax, it’ll come to me. Besides, I don’t see any of you guys working out your supervillain identities.

I’ve got something planned, Axel writes.

Not if it interferes with school you don’t, Kadabra writes.

Ugh, FINE.

I’d join up in a heartbeat except for how the cop thing is currently paying my bills, Patty writes. Also, can we, like, murder Mark Mardon?

First we need to FIND Mark Mardon, and also pls keep all discussions of murder offline, Len writes.

Wasn’t it Clyde that killed your dad? Iris asks.

Same difference.

Not really…

I don’t want to talk about it.

Anyway, I’m still looking for the edge I need for the next match with the Flash, Len writes before the argument gets any more serious. Though I think the suggestion of kidnapping one of his teammates is a good one.

, Iris texts. Go for the girl; superheroes are so UGH about that.

You’re just sore about your dad + bro, Len texts back with a smile.

Hell yes I’m salty AF about it, she replies.

Len rolls his eyes and mildly hopes that Iris’ family figures out that no one puts Iris West in the corner before she does end up going supervillain on them.

——————————————————————————————————————

The few months after his first encounter with the Flash are spent gathering intel and – almost entirely by accident – creating a legend.

Everyone seems to assume that a supervillain has to have some sort of backstory, and Len’s sadly all-too-public family history – corrupt, abusive cop turned mob thief – has led to some seriously absurd speculation about him being a high-end diamond thief (due to the contract he now has with four of the diamond importers in town to test their security, which he’s been doing quite well – he can afford to pay the crew out of the advance proceeds, so even his savings aren’t taking a hit anymore) who is internationally wanted but who has connections with the criminal underground so deep that he’s managed to erase all of his criminal record.

Len laughs for, like, an hour when Axel tells him about it.

No one’s ever confronted him about it, or even mentioned it, so it’s not like there’s anything Len can do about it. He has no intention of lying about anything, but seriously, no one ever asks him anything. He just goes places, people are super into him, and then, after he fails to do anything spectacular, they forget about him and start talking.

Which is how he ends up drinking in a bar, listening to everyone chat around him, gathering what he needs to know. He’s never kidnapped anyone before; he’s gotta do his research.

And that’s when someone walks up to him and pokes him in the shoulder.

Len turns.

There’s a guy there – big guy, broad shoulders, shaved head, shiny patches of scarred skin starting around his neckline and crawling down his forearms, peeking out from under his loose grey button-down shirt.

“You Captain Cold?” the guy asks.

He’s got one of those voices that makes your toes curl.

Len’s, at least.

“You’re really hot,” Len’s traitorous mouth proceed to say, totally without his consent.

The guy blinks, obviously taken aback, but Len’s committed now, so he fixes on his best smirk and leans forward. “How can I help you?”

“You know, I’d heard you were a lot more chill than you are,” the guy says.

“Maybe you warm me up,” Len shoots back.

“Can’t be that icy if that’s all it takes to get you hot,” the guy replies, his lips spreading into a grin.

“What can I say? You were so hot, you stopped me cold,” Len says, batting his eyelashes innocently.

“Guess I’m getting warmer by the minute with the puns.”

“What can I say?” Len says. “I know what lights my fire –”

The guy barks a laugh. “Mick Rory,” he says, face flushed with pleasure. “Arsonist. Nice to meet you.”

“Leonard Snart,” Len replies. “Supervillain.”

“Mind if I sit?”

“Please do,” Len says, eyes dropping to review the man’s very shapely figure and stopping cold (hah!) at the familiar-looking style of gun strapped into the man’s thigh. “I think you and me have lots to talk about.”

Mick follows Len’s gaze. “Yeah,” he says, and grins. “I think we do.”

——————————————————————————————————————

Glory glory glory hallelujah, Iris texts. Leonard Snart, you are the BEST. Central City has an official superhero at LAST!

The Flash, in person, Patty sends, attaching a few snapshots she snagged during the big confrontation.

Head to toe leather, really? Kadabra snipes. Is he a superhero or an escapee from a fetish convention?

If that was the case, it’d be PVC, not leather, Iris says.

TMI, Iris, he replies.

I’m a writer, Iris sends back. I know many, many things. Some stranger than others. I can send pics of some of those stranger things – tell me, how familiar are you with certain internet subcultures?

I yield the field, declare defeat, surrender unconditionally, etc., Kadabra replies. I don’t even know which one you’re thinking of, and I don’t WANT to know.

More importantly, why does he go with the full cowl? Axel sends. A domino mask is x100 cooler.

Let’s get back to how freaking AWESOME Len and his brand new buddy were out there, Iris sends. Did you get arrested after the big blow-out at the end?

I should have realized about crossing the streams, Kadabra sends apologetically. Sorry.

No worries, Len says.

At least there wasn’t a giant Stay Puft Man involved, Patty opines. Always a risk when you’re talking about crossing streams.

Len! Did! You! Get! Arrested?!?! Iris sends.

They made us do a walk of shame through the CCPD and then shoved us in a van headed for Iron Heights without processing us, Len reports. Totally illegal, btw, but whatever.

He’s a little steamed about that, actually; they didn’t even bother to check his fingerprints to see if he had a criminal record – he didn’t; hadn’t gotten so much as a driving ticket since he turned eighteen – and he’d consulted with Patty before he’d set up the fight. If the Flash showed up to fight him, literally all they’d be able to charge him with was being a public nuisance.

Well, and kidnapping, but for some reason he didn’t think Caitlin Snow would be making any statements to the police.

Reasons like “aiding and abetting a vigilante.”

But they hadn’t bothered – they’d looked at him and thought ‘Snart’, just like everyone else in his goddamn life, and coupled with Mick by his side, they’d tossed them straight into the prison van and figured they’d deal with them later.

Lisa had paid off the van drivers in advance, so the ensuing break-out was both spectacular and totally victim-less. And since the police hadn’t even charged him with anything, he can’t even be charged with escaping police custody.

“You texting your friends again?” Mick rumbles from next to him in the bed.

Len turns and grins at him. Sleepy and satisfied is a good look for Mick. Then again, Len hasn’t really found a look that isn’t good on him. “They’re good people,” he protests mildly.

“You like talking to ‘em, you talk to ‘em,” Mick says agreeably. “Gotta keep an eye on your crew.”

The way his thumb caresses Len’s hips indicates that he’s willing to make an effort to distract from it.

“They’re complimenting us on our excellent supervillain style,” Len tells Mick. “Let me enjoy my adoring public.”

“I’ll give you adoring,” Mick growls.

Len has just enough time to type BRB and toss the phone onto the bedside table.

——————————————————————————————————————

“I’m going to murder him,” Iris announces, walking straight into their apartment and throwing her hands in the air.

“I’m in,” Lisa puts in, grinning at her newly found best friend.

(Lisa had thought he was insane for the supervillain thing, then she’d met Iris and suddenly everything was a-okay in Lisa-land. Len’s pretty sure she’s angling for a threesome invite, and he’s pretty sure she’s going to get one, too, judging by the way Iris eyes her in return.)

“Which him?” Len asks mildly. “Speaking as a ‘him’, I’d prefer to know what I’m signing up for.”

Mick grunts from where he’s eating a bowl of cereal.

He’s adjusted quite quickly to random people walking in and yelling strange things, though he does tell Len he thinks it’s odd that Len’s chosen a safehouse in a fairly nice apartment complex where the neighbors sometimes knock to ask for a cup of sugar and to fist-bump him on his excellent supervillainy.

Len explained that he owns the apartment.

Mick was impressed.

“Eddie,” Iris says. “He’s in on the Flash thing now! And he’s refusing to tell me!”

“You haven’t told him that you know who the Flash is?” Len asks.

Iris snarls. “He’s my foster brother,” she says, her dramatics not hiding the fact that she’s actually pissed off about it. “And – I thought – my best friend. He should tell me these things. He’s told my dad, he’s told my boyfriend, he’s told random strangers that he only met after his coma –”

“Nine months in a coma after being struck by lightning, wakes up in better physical shape than before, suddenly hanging out with the Flash’s accomplices,” Lisa ticks off on her fingers.

“Add the fact that he obviously talks about it right before I come in through the door then changes the subject abruptly despite the fact that I totally heard him,” Iris says. “And sometimes, when he thinks I’m not looking – I’m talking that I’m still in the room, just not looking his way –he’ll superspeed something. Like I won’t notice that the desk is suddenly clean or the dishes are all washed!”

“Isn’t his speed accompanied by lightning?” Mick asks.

“It is!” she wails. “That’s what makes it so stupid – does he really think I don’t see the light out of the corner of my eyes? Humans are born predators! We notice movement before we notice anything else, including variation in tone and texture and color! I can’t tell if he thinks I’m stupid or what!”

“He probably just thinks he’s very good,” Len puts in. “And he isn’t.”

“He’s a boy in his early twenties,” Lisa drawls. “They all think they’re much better than they are.”

Len sighs, long-suffering, as Iris and Mick laugh at his wrinkled nose. Just because he was happy that Lisa had an active and satisfying sex life didn’t mean he wanted to hear the details, really.

“Anyway, I have a plan to get you your guns back,” she says briskly.

“I’m listening,” Len says, smiling at how Mick perks up. Mick loves his gun: his pyromania is totally tickled pink (red?) by it.

“Second verse,” Iris says, “same as the first. But this time we kidnap a bit of extra incentive.”

——————————————————————————————————————

Len drops Cisco and Dante off at STAR Labs, no harm done to either of them.

“That was amazing,” Mick purrs.

“I didn’t do anything,” Len says, smiling. “It was Iris’ idea, bringing the brother in; and Lisa was able to grab Cisco, no problem.”

Though she really needed to stop collecting would-be lovers or she’ll end up in an orgy.

“The way you threatened him with frostbite was beautiful,” Mick says firmly. “I wouldn’t have thought to go after his fingers.”

“Piano player,” Len says, smirking. “You can always tell.”

“So we going to hit that truck?”

“Yep,” Len says, utterly satisfied. He can’t believe they’re so foolish as to send another diamond truck on the same route – god, he’s talked to them about this! He’ll have to be extra stern in his next letter. It helps that Mick isn’t in this for the cash – as long as there is cash, he doesn’t care if it comes from their thieving or if it just appears on the table.

Len’s bank account is rich and full. Mick’s barely making a dent.

(Len’s designing a bank for work at the moment, which honestly he could do in his sleep. It’s fun to split his time between blueprints for heists and blueprints for work. Also, the irony makes him smile.)

“You sure the Flash’ll let us hit it?” Mick asks doubtfully.

“Trust me,” Len says. “He’ll want to confront me about kidnapping his friend; he’ll forget that you two are perfectly capable of getting the truck all on your own.”

Sure enough, Len finds himself in the woods somewhere outside of Central.

“Maybe I’ll speed you off to my secret prison where you can’t hurt anyone,” the Flash says cockily.

“And then I won’t be around to stop my newsfeed from releasing your identity the world,” Len drawls in return. Honestly, did the Flash not think that he’s thought of this? That was like, contingency number one.

Besides, if Barry Allen really does go and lock him into STAR Labs, Iris will just break him out.

They end up bargaining: no attacks on the Flash’s friends and family (easily agreed) and no killing (even easier) in return for the Flash letting Len run free as his supervillain.

It all went even better than he thought.

The Flash ditches him, a crackle of lightning all he leaves behind.

The Rogues, he texts the group.

What? Iris replies.

Villain group name, he says. The Rogues.

I LOVE IT, Patty sends.

Okay, that’s pretty cool, Axel concedes. Not too dorky.

If you assholes would stop vetoing my supervillain ideas, I’d join up in a minute, Kadabra promises.

Stop having stupid stage magician themed ideas, then, Iris replies. This isn’t the 90s, okay? Only serious supervillains need apply.

There was a woman who murdered people with electric bees literally last week, Len points out.

And she’s not invited into the club, Iris shoots back.

Point, Len concedes.

I’m recruiting Hartley Rathaway, once I track him down, Patty says. Sonic gloves are great! Plus, deaf supervillain – disability representation for the win!

We got the truck, Mick sends. He’s been a little more hesitant to join the texting group, but once he was assured that the chatroom was as private as current internet hacking skills could manage and everyone was overwhelmingly nice to him, he’d slowly started warming up to them.

Pun intended, of course.

Great! Len replies encouragingly. He really wants Mick to be friends with everyone; it’s important to him that everyone is happy and comfortable with each other.

Then he looks around.

Speaking of comfortable…

Could you guys send me a pickup? I’ll turn on the GPS tracker on my phone so you can find me…

——————————————————————————————————————

Iris spends a lot of time curled up in Len’s apartment eating ice cream after the pseudo-black hole incident. She’s pissed off at Barry for nearly screwing everything up. She’s pissed off at Eddie for very nearly committing suicide. She’s pissed off at her dad for conspiring to keep her in the dark about the Flash stuff for months.

Honestly, at this point, Len’s crew and Firestorm – Stein and Ronnie both – may be the only people she’s talking to.

Len’s Rogues are growing nicely, though. Mick’s there, of course, as Heatwave, and Lisa under her knew alias as the Golden Glider. Hartley joined up happily enough and is going under the name Pied Piper – he’s currently working on some sort of sonic flute. Shanwa, surprisingly enough, actually likes the name Peek-a-Boo, and is as thick as thieves with Lisa and Iris and Patty. Axel found his calling as the Trickster – Kadabra yelled at him for three hours about doing anything with the old Trickster, ever again, and Axel had folded like a bad poker hand, especially after they’d explained exactly how badly he’d been played – and now he’s using and abusing his chemistry genius.

He’s still going to school and getting good grades, though. He swears after his last stunt, Kadabra abruptly appears and looms over his shoulder any time he even thinks of skipping.

Of course, Axel also claims that Kadabra has started cooking up actual magic in that lab of his.

Kids.

“I just hate all of them,” Iris says sulkily.

“I feel you,” Len says.

Admittedly, he’s only half paying attention. His bank design is getting to the crazy portion; he needs to devote a lot of attention or the finicky details won’t iron out right.

“I think I want to be a supervillain, too,” she says.

“You’re not really cut out for it,” Mick says, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“I could be,” Iris says stubbornly.

“You’ve barely ever broken a law in your life,” Mick points out. “Never been arrested, never gone to jail, never got scarred up like the rest of us. You’re not like me and Len. Just leave it be.”

“I’ll think about it,” she says grumpily.

“You don’t even have a good theme yet,” he says soothingly, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.

“Fine, fine. That one’s actually a good point,” Iris says, snuggling into the blanket.

Len smiles distractedly at Mick being adorably fuzzy. He’ll have to make up the last few weeks up to Mick somehow – maybe take him out for a nice burn on one of the condemned properties that Len bid for the destruction contracts for weeks ago, right after he first met Mick and learned about his pyromania.

He doesn’t think about what Mick said.

——————————————————————————————————————

“Oh god,” Len says.

“You killed him,” Barry says.

“Oh god,” Len says.

“Lisa was safe! You didn’t have to!”

“Oh god.”

“Um,” Barry says. “You’re – kind of freaking out?”

“He’s dead!”

“…yes?” Barry says, blinking. “Was that not the point?”

“Yes, but – but – oh my god!”

“I’m – okay, you’re seriously freaking out here. Is it because he’s your dad?”

“It’s because he’s dead!”

“…is there anything I can do to make you freak out less?” Barry asks helplessly. “Because you’re starting to freak me out.”

“Lisa,” Len says weakly. “I need Lisa. And Mick. Oh god.”

“Right,” Barry says, and suddenly everything is a blur.

Lisa is on her feet at the sight of them, dropping the towel she was holding to her mildly bloody neck. “What did you do to him?!” she shouts.

“Nothing!” Barry yelps. “Nothing! I swear! He shot your dad and then he started flipping out!”

“Go get Mick! And Iris! Now!” Lisa orders, whipping out her phone and texting.

Barry’s gone before she finishes talking.

Len is on the floor. He doesn’t remember sitting down.

“Lenny? Lenny, baby, it’s okay,” she says, crouching down next to him. “Lenny – Lenny, baby, big bro, it’s okay – look at me – you’re having a panic attack –”

Len’s ears are ringing and everything seems very far away. He can’t get his father’s face out of his mind.

“I got Mick!” Barry announces, reappearing with the man. “And Iris! Wait. Why did I go get Iris?”

Iris rushes forward. “Got your text,” she says. “Oh, Len!”

Mick kneels down and wraps his arms around Len. It helps with the shaking.

“He’s dead,” he tells Mick stupidly. “He’s dead.”

“Who’s dead?” Mick asks.

“Our dad,” Lisa says. “He put a bomb in my neck and made Lenny run jobs for him.”

“Shit,” Mick says, looking guilty. “I shoulda known something was up when you said you needed some time to yourself.”

“I didn’t want you involved,” Len says through numb lips. “He’s – he’s bad, Mick. He’s really bad.”

“And now he’s gone for good,” Lisa says. She sounds satisfied.

Len groans.

“…which I will never mention again, Lenny, I’m so sorry you had to do that!” she adds.

Iris is patting his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she says. “It’s okay.”

“Irsi!” Barry yelps. “Since when do you know Captain Cold?”

“I’m part of his Rogues, duh,” she replies. “Which maybe I wouldn’t have been, if someone had told me that they were the fucking Flash instead of keeping me in the dark and lying to my face for a year.”

Barry winces.

They’re still not talking about it.

“Wait,” Cisco says. “You’re a supervillain?”

“I’m more of a behind the scenes organizer,” Iris sniffs. “I haven’t thought of a theme yet. Anyway, can we focus on Len now?”

“He’s dead,” Len says dully. “I killed him.”

“Isn’t that kind of what you guys do?” Cisco asks.

“I’ve never killed anyone before in my life!” Len protests.

“What?!” Barry yelps. “But – we made that deal about you not killing anyone –”

“Easy enough to promise,” Len says. “Didn’t plan to do it anyway.”

“You really never killed anybody?” Mick says, sounding mildly surprised. “Not even in prison?”

“He’s never been in prison,” Lisa says. “Well, not except as, like, a visitor.”

“What, really?” Mick says, blinking.

“How’d he manage that?” Caitlin asks, frowning. “Statistically, most expert criminals spend at least a little time in prison before they’ve perfected their technique –”

“He’s a supervillain, not a criminal,” Lisa says impatiently. “He’s never been to prison, he’s never been arrested – well, not properly – and the worst thing he’s ever gotten was a parking ticket for letting the time meter run out while he was visiting me in the hospital one time.”

“No way,” Cisco protests. “I saw the stories online – he’s got a record a mile long, only he deleted it all –”

“Those are just stories,” Iris says. “I helped spread some of them.”

“Iris, you didn’t,” Len says.

“Oh, good, he���s starting to come out of it.”

“You’re not a criminal?” Mick says slowly. “Not at all?”

“I wanted to be a supervillain,” Len says. He’s tired and his head hurts and he thinks he may have hurt Mick’s feelings somehow, even though he never lied about anything. He should have been more clear, he guesses. “Childhood dream. Had to put it aside to take care of Lisa. Then, when the Flash appeared…I figured it was time.”

“You steal diamonds all the time!” Cisco shouts.

“Yeah,” Len says. “And I send ‘em back after with comments on improving their security against metahuman and super-threats. I get paid an average of 50k per successful robbery, which is honestly more than I’d get fencing the diamonds on the black market.”

“What,” Barry says.

“How do you afford that sweet apartment?” Mick demands. “And all the extra cash you always have?”

“Lenny’s partner in a mid-sized architectural design firm,” Lisa says proudly.

“I’m designing a bank right now,” Len offers, closing his eyes.

“You’re designing a bank?”

“I specialize in figuring out architectural design for high security needs,” Len says. “I basically spend all day trying to figure out how to break into places and then turning it around to figure out how to stop people from doing what I just did.”

“You’re in the house all day,” Mick says. He sounds upset. “You don’t, like, go into an office or anything.”

“I’m a partner,” Len says, leaning his head against the wall. “I took flex-time leave; I work from home now. Telecommuting. You see me skype with my employees sometimes.”

“Wait – the guys you’re always yelling about banks with are your employees?” Mick says.

“Imagine having Captain Cold as a boss,” Cisco says, marveling.

“You’re basically a normal person,” Barry says, sounding horrified.

“Yes, and he just had a very traumatic experience,” Iris says. “So stop badgering him.”

“He killed someone!”

“He killed his abusive father, who just put a bomb into his sister’s neck!” Iris shouts. “Maybe if you actually cared about your family, you’d pay some attention to that!”

“I do care!” Barry shouts back. “That’s why I lied!”

“Because you don’t trust me!”

“No! Because I want to keep you safe! Damnit, Iris, I thought I was doing the right thing!”

“Well you weren’t! You were just being selfish, like you always are!”

Len pulls up his knees, feeling very small. He hates it when people yell.

He feels Mick’s arm wrap around him and he lets his head fall into Mick’s shoulder. “M’sorry I didn’t make it clear,” he mutters into Mick’s neck. “Shoulda said. Like Iris and Barry. But you only wanted a partner in crime, and I wanted you…”

“We’re still partners in crime,” Mick says. His voice is low and harsh as always, but it’s still the sweetest thing Len’s ever heard. “You’re still a supervillain, remember? Leader of the Rogues.”

“You don’t mind that I’m not a proper criminal?”

“You’re a proper criminal to me,” Mick assures him.

Lisa puts her fingers to her mouth and whistles a sharp, piercing whistle that deafens the entire room.

“You’re all being stupid!” she roars, making everyone take at least three steps back. “Iris, Barry was being a dumbass, but he meant well and he’s apologized. Get over it. Barry, all Iris wants is for you to say you’ve learned your lesson, you’re sorry, and that you’re never going to hide anything from her ever again.”

They blink.

“Now.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve learned my lesson, I will hide nothing from you ever again,” Barry says quickly.

“Apology accepted and I’m sorry for what I said about you not caring about family,” Iris says, equally quickly. “I know that you care a lot and it was really uncalled for.”

“It’s fine, I understand why you were upset,” Barry says.

“Don’t try to get me to make up with my dad, though, I’m still pissed at him,” she warns.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Barry says.

“You’re literally thinking of ways to do it right now.”

“Yes,” Barry says, nodding. “In the spirit of not hiding things from you: yes, yes I am.”

“Can we stop apologizing now or will you kill us?” Iris asks Lisa.

Lisa crosses her arm and surveys both of them. “Fine,” she says. “Acceptable. Also, while we’re at it, Cisco, we’re going out for dinner tomorrow. 8 PM. Wear something nice.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cisco says. His eyes are shining. “Wait, if he’s a structural engineer, does that mean you’re really a mechanical engineer?”

“Yep,” she says.

“Awesome,” he says.

“Hey, Flash,” Mick says. “Help me get Len home? I think he needs some peace and quiet, maybe some hot cocoa.”

“With mini-marshmallows?” Len asks plaintively.

“Of course,” Mick assures him. “Flash?”

“Uh, sure,” Barry says. “I’ll…do you have to be a supervillain?”

“I keep my Rogues obeying the rules we made,” Len points out. “I make sure nothing really gets stolen, or at least that no one gets hurt by it. If any new supervillain comes to town, they’ll probably come to try to recruit me first. My contacts on the police force help me turn in the really bad guys –”

“Who do we know who’s on the police force?” Mick asks.

“Patty.”

“Patty?” Barry yelps. “My girlfriend?”

“Your what?!” Iris says, starting to grin.

“Well, I mean, I just asked her out yesterday…”

“Patty,” Mick says. “Patty. Instagram girl.”

“Yep.”

“The police really take all types,” Mick says. “Who’d you get arrested? Anyone I know?”

“The two assholes that were making fun of you in the bar.”

Mick’s lips twitch with amusement. “You mean the ones I beat up for doing it?”

“Doesn’t mean they should be doing it. Mental illness isn’t funny.”

Mick shakes his head and pulls Len close, running his fingers through his hair. Len sighs and lets his shoulder slump.

What a bad week.

“We’re not allowed to have weeks like this ever again,” he says, only half-awake at this point.

“Sure thing, Lenny,” Mick says. “Now go to sleep; I’ll yell at you tomorrow. First kill’s always the hardest, especially if it’s family. Took me ages to get over my family dying in a fire, and that was an accident.”

“You’re the best,” Len slurs.

“I beat up nice structural engineers who were abused as children and mentally ill people with tragic pasts,” Barry moans. “What sort of hero am I?”

“Barry, I know we’ve made up and all, but I have to say that your existential crisis is giving me life right now,” Iris says.

“Yeah, yeah – wait, what are you doing? Are you texting someone?”

“I’m live-blogging this for the Rogues. Obviously.”

“You’re what?!”

#my fic #dccoldwave #leonard snart #mick rory #iris west #goldenvibe #goldennews #other background pairings #lots of friendships