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monstermoviedean · 2 years

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Hello I saw your tags on a post ab how you have a theory where tfw is still trapped by Chuck and was wondering if you have posts ab it because I’d love to read it

hi first of all this made me smile so big thank you for asking!!! second i haven't posted anything major recently (and if i had i doubt i'd be able to find it) so i'll summarize! and feel free to reply/send other asks if you have questions or want to talk more about it! (under a cut because it got long)

i didn't invent chuck won theory and i'm not sure who did but basic theory is that jack absorbed chuck's powers but also part of chuck himself, which took control of jack's body and mind. my spin on chuck won theory is that everything in 15x20 takes place in an alternate universe or pocket dimension similar to changing channels, in which chuck is calling the shots and controlling the winchesters' actions. my theory is that chuck saw what gabriel did in changing channels (forcing the winchesters into a different part of space/time, changing their surroundings to torture them, recycling characters from their past) and decided to do it again. make the winchesters feel like they'd won while also keeping them miserable.

the first thing i'd like to point to is the running on empty montage at the end of 15x19. it was weird, jarring, out-of-place, better suited to the actual finale than the penultimate episode. the music was weird. the message was incomprehensible. it was supposed to be like "look at all the good times!" but primarily highlighted how alone and miserable dean and sam were. strong contrast to an episode that repeatedly stated that dean especially is feeling hopeless. so that could have been chuck wrapping up the show, the winchester gospels. it feels like it would fit tonally with changing channels.

second is the 15x20 morning routine montage, for the same reasons. it doesn't feel right! we know for a fact that dean and sam have both lost their loves and that the majority of their friends and family are dead so why are we doing this? the tone is off again - it's "look they're almost normal!" when everything is screaming that this is wrong. the things that always get me worst are 1) dean hugging miracle like a lifeline and 2) dean's room full of empty bottles. they both state "dean is not well" and then? the episode does nothing with it? it feels like a sitcom opener montage, which again, would fit with changing channels.

third, the pie thing. sam pieing dean in the face directly after he brings up his dead love is something a bad sitcom would do for cheap laughs.

fourth, everything about the case they're working, which makes no sense. it's random. things are thrown together. vampires? mimes? kidnapping kids? an unsolved case of john's? john thought vampires were extinct. it makes no sense noooooo sense! exactly what chuck would do. put them in a dangerous situation for no reason and throw in some slapdash elements that make it seem like a full story.

fifth and finally, jenny the vampire. jenny the fucking vampire. this is what got me on this changing channels 'verse thing in the first place, because 1) jenny is not named in her original appearance, 2) dean never spoke to jenny in 01x20, 3) sam tried but all she could do was scream, and 4) the episode was about finding the colt, not saving her. point being, jenny the vampire was no one to the winchesters, and not even in their usual acceptable civilian casualties sort of way. she wasn't even named. so to have dean recognize her, call her by name, is absurd. he doesn't know her. how could he?

so here's my best (only) piece of evidence: jenny the vampire's actress also appeared in changing channels as a character in dr. sexy. it actually makes more sense that dean would recognize her as dr. ellen piccolo than as jenny the vampire.

so what i'm saying here is that chuck is just recycling people and faces from the winchesters' real(ish) lives in order to make the illusion seem more real. he's built this universe or dimension or personal hell or whatever, and he's filling it with familiar faces. it feels real to the winchesters but to us it's just to the side of real. (side note: i want to know who was under the mimepire masks! did someone with cas' face kill dean???)

this setup gives chuck endless time and space to fuck with the winchesters. he can kill them as many times as he wants, run through as many scenarios as he wants, and just reset them. i think after the bridge scene he zapped them back to start, wiped their memories, and tried killing sam first this time. and they never know, because it looks and feels real enough. and the person who would notice, cas, is locked up in the empty. chuck can play with his little dolls until he gets bored with them, and they will never know the difference, and more importantly, never try to challenge chuck again.

#i'm so sorry i got carried away! i hope this is okay!#spn

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cynicinafishbowl · 6 years

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For the dvd meme— any bit in the second or third chapter of Politics and Profanity where Lizzy and Evie are flirting. I’m #predictable

I expected no less from you, madame. I have decided to go with Chapter 2 (under the cut)

By about ten the next morning, Elizabeth realised that Darcy had not taken the intended message away from their meeting. This realisation came by way of the five emails he had sent her by then, amending his schedule in some insignificant manner. [Darcy is a petty little shit when he puts his mind to it] By the end of the day, and another seventeen emails, she was sure that he was having his revenge by inundating her with as much minutiae as he could throw at her. Knowing, thanks to his incessant emailing, that he would not be in his office, she walked towards it, hoping to see Mr Fitzwilliam. He was indeed there, and seemed surprised to see her.

“Miss Bennett. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Fitzwilliam asked as she entered the room. A moment later, having seen her expression, he continued, “Wait. Fitz hasn’t been flooding you with emails keeping you updated as to every tiny amendment to his schedule, in an attempt to mete out some kind of schoolyard vengeance, has he?” [They’ve known each other for literally forever, which mean he knows exactly the sort of shit Darcy is likely to try to pull]

“That and sending me the occasional synopsis of a particularly interesting something which happens to be in one of his red boxes.”

Fitzwilliam rolled his eyes. “Would I be correct in surmising that you could probably use a drink?” he asked, opening the door to Darcy’s office and waving her in. “I can offer you scotch, sherry, [Yes Minister - I couldn’t not] or bourbon.”

“Bourbon?”

“He acquired a taste for it whilst on an internship in America.”

“Scotch, thank you.”

“Have a seat, Elizabeth. May I call you Elizabeth?”

“Only if I may call you Evelyn.”

There’s a definite current of flirting between the two of them in Pride and Prejudice before Fitzwilliam backs off, which in my opinion is because Darcy takes him aside and invokes bros before hos. Obviously in my fic, Fitzwilliam backs off for a different reason, but that is neither here nor there.

My initial plan was to actually have Lizzie and Fitzwilliam date for a while, before they realise that they’re better off as friends or some such, but that didn’t end up happening. I can’t recall why I decided against it. Probably the fact that I couldn’t really think of a plausible reason for them to break up, so it was safer never to go there.

“By all means, Elizabeth, otherwise our following conversation about Fitz is going to be far too confusing.” Elizabeth sank into one of the armchairs in the office and accepted the drink Fitzwilliam handed her, murmuring thanks and taking a sip. “So how many emails did he send you?” Fitzwilliam asked, before cutting her off. “No, no, don’t tell me. Twenty?”

“Twenty-two. Twenty-three if you count the one he sent last night.”

“Christ. And I assume that diligence meant that you actually read them all.”

“Indeed it did,” Elizabeth confirmed, “although every so often there was some interesting bit of statistical analysis from a research paper. Or in one case, a picture of a cat as an attachment labelled ‘virus virus Trojan horse plz open plz’.” [I believe that all email attachments should be named in the manner of lolcats]

“And you opened it?” Fitzwilliam chuckled.

“Of course I opened it. If the computer defences aren’t up to any viruses I’m sent, it’s better that we know about it as soon as possible.”

“So I take it from your visits that you think Fitz has potential in the long run?” [he’s not an idiot]

“What on earth do you mean?” Elizabeth prevaricated.

“If you thought him nothing but a passing nuisance, you wouldn’t be bothering yourself with talking to his assistant after he spent the day annoying you after you reamed him for what was, admittedly, not his fault, but, as I pointed out, something which he probably should have explained from the outset, instead of saying inappropriate things to people with arguably more political clout than him. If you thought he didn’t have staying power, you would just let him run his course, and breathe a sigh of relief when he was replaced and went to work for some top tier law firm.”

“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” [Up until now, Elizabeth had thought he was just along for the ride until something better came up]

“It’s my job to think these things through. If I didn’t think Fitz could go all the way, I would be spending my leisure hours looking for more permanent jobs. Instead, I spend my leisure hours conversing with lovely ladies such as yourself,” he pointed out with a slight inclination of his head. [Shameless. Absolutely shameless.]

“Darcy’s problem isn’t that he’s stupid or even bad at politics from what I’ve seen. His problem is that he’s too… I don’t know… idealistic. [She realises that Darcy isn’t a terrible person, he’s just going about the politics wrong] If he weren’t, he would realise that things are less about actually running the country and more about climbing the greasy totem pole. I mean for heaven’s sake. It’s youth and unemployment.”

“Surely you don’t mean to say that some portfolios are more important than others. Miss Elizabeth, I am shocked,” exclaimed Fitzwilliam in a tone which implied that he was anything but.

“You might very well think that,” Elizabeth paused in her response to take a drink, “but I couldn’t possibly comment.” [Two of my favourite things - that quote from House of Cards, and the Victory Sip, where you punctuate your statement with an exceedingly smug sip of something]

Fitzwilliam chuckled. In response to Elizabeth’s curious look, he said “You know, if you were a bit taller, and significantly more Tory, you’d be exactly his type [He’s essentially describing Caroline Bingley, who is, but for the fact that she’s utterly uninterested in men, exactly his type]. And before you start getting all sardonic, I am in no way implying that that is at all your intent.” [He fails to mention that she is also very close to his type: compact and filled with rage]

Elizabeth, entirely ready to reply with something sardonic, after all, she had hardly come to Westminster to secure some rich, conservative husband [lol surprise bitch, that’s what you’re getting], instead burst into laughter [He’s hot and he’s funny. Such struggle]. “And what, pray tell, was the sample size from which you drew this conclusion?”

“I will admit that my scientific method was somewhat less than rigorous.”

Elizabeth glanced at her watch, and saw that she had another forty minutes until Darcy was due to return to pick up his red boxes for the evening. As such, she was more than slightly surprised to look up from her watch to see him walk into his office [I do enjoy having characters ambush other characters]. He looked, quite rightly, somewhat confused. “You’re not meant to be back for another forty minutes, Minister. You’ve been quite diligent in that respect haven’t you?” she pointed out.

“I emailed you from the car.” [This bitch, am I right?]

Elizabeth pulled out her phone and saw that that was indeed the case. [She has to commend his diligence and commitment to pettiness] Standing, she excused herself. “Indeed you did. Evelyn, it has been a pleasure. Minister, that cat picture was most droll.” [tfw your workplace nemesis is hot as shit, and his homie is super cute and funny. #relatable]

As she left, she heard Darcy ask “What was that about?” [I love having the start of the next conversation happen while its subject is still within earshot.]

Fitzwilliam’s response of “You being a prat,” made her smile as she walked back to her department, where promptly was she greeted by Mr Gardiner. “Where the fuck were you?” [Ah, my Malcolm Tucker homage]

“Drinking scotch with the assistant to the person whom I’m pretty sure just became my nemesis.” [So that’s what the kids are calling it these days]

“I’m sorry fucking I asked,” he muttered as he stalked off.

I love the ‘question, overshare answer, look of disgust’ structure. I use it a lot.

Waiting for her, when she arrived at her computer, were three emails. The one Darcy had sent from the car, updating his schedule, along with a second, newer, email; and one from Mr Fitzwilliam [when did I drop the ‘Mr’ and just have him as ‘Fitzwilliam’? Clearly some time after chapter 2]. She clicked on it.

Elizabeth,

You must come for another chat some time soon. Fitz keeps you pretty well informed of his comings and goings, and I’m invariably always around.

I feel that our chat this afternoon was cut short. [Yeah you do. He thinks she’s attractive, she’s fiercly intelligent, he’s starting to like her]

Yours &c,

Evelyn

Attached to the email was a virtual business card with his details. A smile playing across her features [she is also in the beginning of liking him], she opened the newest email from Darcy.

Ms Bennet,

I hope that my correspondence today has been of a satisfactory level of detail. I have attached my agenda for tomorrow.

Regards,

Fitzwilliam Darcy, MP

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. If he wanted to continue on this line of childish behaviour, that was entirely his prerogative [later on, she comes to enjoy this vague spite-flirting. She has not yet reached that point]. With her work done for the day, she packed her things into her bag and made her way home. It was only when she arrived, to find Jane absent (in her being flooded with unnecessary details of Darcy’s schedule, she had forgotten the altogether more relevant fact of Jane having a date). Elizabeth made herself some eggs, opened her laptop, and poured herself some wine. [All good life choices, like google stalking someone, tend to be motivated by wine]

Having an evening to herself, without the risk of Jane seeing what she was googling and reproaching her for it, Elizabeth opened Chrome and typed ‘Fitzwilliam Darcy’ into the search bar. The first couple of results were official governmental sites, a number of news entries, including the one for which she had been sent to disabuse him, something from a law firm website, and a number of other results which offered no insight into the gentleman. It was on the third page of results [aka Dark Google - if it’s not on the first page, tweak your search term. Things get weird once you’re past that first page of results] that she found something interesting. An obscure Cambridge publication showed a photograph of a young Darcy along with two young men and a young woman, and the caption ---- [Why bother deciding where he went if I can just go the ---- route of Austen?] College University Challenge Team.

Elizabeth very nearly spat out the wine she had just imbibed [spit-takes are never not hilarious]. Here was Darcy, unmistakeably, but over a decade ago. He couldn’t have been older than nineteen, and he was still in the throes of boyhood [the awkward teenage years we would rather forget], his body seeming too tall for his frame [stringbean Darcy], as if he had just completed a growth spurt, which, she supposed, he probably had. Armed with a new search phrase [Good decision, Lizzie. Don’t just keep going deeper], she returned to Google.

She had barely opened the first video when she opened her email to see if Fitzwilliam had seen fit to include his mobile phone number in his set of details. Elizabeth was delighted to see that he had [totally for professional reasons]. She typed the number into her phone and dialled.

“This is Evelyn.”

“Evelyn. Hullo. This is Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Elizabeth! To what do I owe this delight? I hope Fitz hasn’t been pestering you [that’s a lie. He hopes Fitz has been pestering her, because then she’ll keep chatting to him].”

Elizabeth laughed. “No more than the usual. Although it is about him that I called.”

“Oh really?” Fitzwilliam said, with some real intrigue in his voice. “Do go on.”

“I was doing some googling,”

“Of course.”

“I can sense judgement, and I will not have it.” [I swear, the flirting wrote itself]

“Not at all. Please continue.”

“I found a video of Darcy as some lanky teenager on Univeristy Challenge.”

Fitzwilliam let out a hoot of laughter [he remembers stringbean teenager Darcy]. “I’d no idea that was on the internet. Hang on.” Elizabeth heard some shuffling and then frenzied typing, followed by another hoot of laughter. “I am so glad you called. I was making do with occasionally recalling it and chuckling. I never even thought to see if someone had uploaded it. That has absolutely made my evening. I’m going to spend hours making GIFs of this just so that I can send them to him at inopportune moments.” [He totally would]

“Surely you have better things to do with your time,” Elizabeth protested.

“Indeed I do not, for you see, unlike you, I am wildly unqualified for this position and very much did get the job entirely through nepotism [This statement is more or less entirely true]. I take phone calls when he’s out of the office, but let’s be entirely honest, Fitz doesn’t need me around [Not quite true, but definitely not untrue]. A partially trained chimpanzee could do my job [very true]. He hired me because I was an unemployed cousin with a PhD [in retrospect, the timelines make more sense if it’s a Bachelor’s. This was written back when I hadn’t planned for him to have spent quite as long in the military. That changed] in maths so pure that numbers weren’t even involved any more, which of course meant that my job prospects were infinite, and he happened to need a glorified receptionist, and since we always got along well as lads, he gave me the job.” [definitely one interpretation of events]

“Don’t sell yourself short. You could engage in the vicious cycle of academia and teach bright-eyed young things skills which are wholly unusable in the real world so that they too can’t get jobs and so go into academia.” [I wonder what my opinions of professional academia are]

“If I could tolerate youths, then maybe, but ugh, can you imagine?”

“I hate to break it to you, Evelyn, but if they’re at university reading pure maths, I can guarantee that they are about as far from being ‘youths’ as is humanly possible.”

“Excuse you, Miss Elizabeth, I will have you know that there was many a debauched escapade as we dealt with n-dimensional hypercubes.” [debauchery is relative]

“I’m sure.”

“Tell you what, once the GIFs are done, I’ll send you a couple for your own amusement.” [that’s totally not just an excuse for them to keep corresponding at all]

“You are a prince among men,” Elizabeth informed him.

“I know. Feel free to drop by any time Fitz is out of the office, or indeed whenever he isn’t. I’m finding that I enjoy our chats, and nothing worries Fitz more than me chatting about him with terrifying women.” [especially when Fitz worries that he’s going to fall madly in love with them]

“It’s been a pleasure, as always.” [yeah it has]

Elizabeth marvelled at how someone could be so resolutely upper-class, and then read anything other than Classics at university. [really though. I just wanted something that would make him super unemployable, and it was Maths or Classics. Since I decided that Tristan read Classics, Maths it was]

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multipleuniversesinwriting-blog · 7 years

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Title: You Owe Me

Warnings: Nightclub, drugs, alcohol, swearing, blood, BAMF!Reader, Bouncer!Reader

Word Count: 1556

Summary: TFW are trying to get into the Pandemon(copyrighted bc honestly that’s a good name) Night club and after they make it in with some trouble Reader ends up saving their asses.

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You stood at the doorway- listening to the girl prattle on and on about how badly she needed to get inside. Something about a guy with a little special something for her. You held back a sigh and looked down at her- your (e/c) eyes really not too sympathetic.

“Look blondie- I think you’re at the wrong club. Once you enter here you’re gonna leave as a completely different person- looks and all. Go to your disco club or something- this one’s gonna be too intense for you sweety.” You said as sympathetically as you could muster- forcing a smile on your face. She flushed red and spun- leaving the line and walking away. The next guy simply pulled a chain out from underneath his shirt- flashing the knight’s templar cross. You nodded and turned your head slightly, letting him walk in. Three men hurried forward- cutting through the line.

Finally, something fun. You stepped in their way- ignoring the badges they were holding up to you as you smiled sweetly.

“Any specific reason as to why the feds are here?” You asked softly- you had people in line that you could simply not lose. They were the vertebrae that made up the spine, vital and important. The one blue eyes stepped forward- and you definitely told yourself that he was very, very attractive.

“Excuse me ma’am, but I’m afraid we are on very serious business.” He said softly- and you raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think you’d understand.” He said, and you let out a soft chuckle, rolling your head on your shoulders as you clasped your hands over your stomach- flashing a smirk at him.

“Try me.” You whispered, and he shot the smirk back, leaning forward. His lips rested right by your ear and his warmth breath sent a chill down your spine- and his hand rested on your lower back, fingers slipping underneath the jacket and blouse to rest against your skin. You ignored the looks from the other two men- biting on your bottom lip.

“We’re here to capture a really bad drug cartel- you see.” His hand moved to your side and you were grateful that his broad body blocked what he was doing off from his companions. His thumb rested on your hip bone and you bit the inside of your cheek- trying so hard to fight your hormones. “He hurt someone close to me- and I can’t let him get away with that.” He finished whispering- his low voice sending shudders down your spine. Your right hand grabbed gently onto his jacket- and he pulled back far enough to lock eyes with you- and in that moment you knew perfectly well that he knew what he was doing.

“Yea, sure, you can go in.” You said, and the man smiled and as he walked by he let his hand drift over your ass quickly. The door opened and Bring me the Horizon fluttered out before it closed. You looked to the other two- finally smiling a genuine smile.

“What are you two doing? I have a line waiting and you’re holding it up- buzz off.” You said, and the taller one pulled one of the most beautiful resting bitch faces ever that you cleared your throat. “On second thought he can go through.” You said, and the tall man smiled gratefully to you as he passed by- and that left you with the third man, the final one. Damn, were his eyes green.

“So- which of the three stooges are you my dear friend?” You asked, and he scoffed, tucking his badge away as he walked forward.

“Sorry- but I gotta get in, you see, me and Mr. Resting Bitch Face are a packaged deal-” He tried to pass by and your hand grabbed onto his waistband- looking over at up at him.

“You clearly are a very fit and strong man- and you have an arms reach and height advantage on me- but I will still kick your ass.” You said in a sickeningly sweet tone- and he let out a soft sigh, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“Listen, I would love to stay out here and chat with you but I’m afraid we have to go in and get this guy, it means a lot to us.” He said and you removed your hand from his waistband, slapping his ass.

“Then go.” You said simply- hearing the door open as your partner came out. The man with green jeweled eyes entered and you watched him walk away- smirking at his retreating form. Your partner stood beside you and the line quickly began to shrink- and after a rather persistent and hands on customer- in which you gave him an ass whooping of a lifetime- you took your ten minute break. You could only handle so many druggies and alcoholics before you wanted to explode.

You entered the club and slid your way to the bar- the aura around you commanding and demanding. Being one of the few women bouncers in this club had you making sure that you left absolutely no room for movements and advances. You were purely here for work- and if you had to break some fingers to get that across you were not afraid to do so.

You sidled up to the bar and nodded at the bartender- who finished handing over a beer before grabbing your mixture of coke and rum- put into a water bottle because honestly you didn’t care for ice and you never sat at the bar. You always kept moving. You nodded to him in thanks and took the bottle and continued walking through the crowd- not bothering to blend in one bit. You passed by the back rooms- where kids got… rowdy, and heard a soft bang. You tensed and took a long drag of your drink- listening to see if it was a one time thing or if someone was in trouble.

There were muffled grunts and your senses picked up a whimper. You quickly headed to the back- pulling the pistol around your waist out and holding it in front of you, water bottle sitting in the doorway to the back rooms. You stopped by the last door- knowing that this was vampire territory. There was a bang and you slowly pushed the door open, slipping the gun into your waistband to reach for the blade hidden underneath your pants leg and in your boot. The Knights Templar Cross on the door seeming to brand your brain as you carefully slipped in, not bothering to close the door all the way. The blue eyed man was pinned against the wall- a hand clasped tightly around his throat and cutting off his airway.

You took a half breath and pulled out the blade- stepping forward and swinging it. The vamp lost his head and the blue eyed man fell to his feet- then knees as he struggled to breathe. You turned and dodged a punch thrown at you- letting out a small laugh before you cut off the arm he had tried to hit you with- his head following the path of his severed arm. You stared at the final vamp- blood dripping off your blade- specks of red bring color to your white blouse- and disappearing on your black jacket.

“Come on Vlad- let the poor guy go- he doesn’t have much going for him besides his looks.” You sad, and Vladimir looked at you- baring his teeth in a snarl. His second set slid down and you frowned, walking forward. You were about a foot away when he turned to the green eyed man- and you lifted the blade, throwing it. It landed through his head- pinning him to the wall. He screeched and the tallest one quickly severed his head- pulling your blade out of the wall and tossing it back to you. You caught it and nodded thanks to him, flicking blood off it.

“You guys really are idiots. You had to bring it here?” You asked, tucking your blade away again. You looked around at the dead vamps- letting out a soft sigh and rubbing your face.

“I am so getting fired.” You muttered- running a hand through your hair. You looked to the green eyed man- letting out a sigh. “Tell me your real names- now.” You said and he cleared his throat- straightening out his suit.

“I’m Dean, this is my younger brother Sammy, and he’s Castiel.” He said, and you looked to each man in turn- sending a wink towards Castiel before looking over at Dean.

“It’s Sam.” Sam said, and you nodded as you strode up to Dean- trapping him between you and the wall.

“You, so owe me.” You said, and he stared down at you- raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yea?” He said, and you nodded.

“Definitely, you owe me a date and a night.” You said, and he smirked- catching your drift.

“Finally, something I can afford.” He said, and you turned, walking away.

“Get these rotting messes out of here and leave out the back door- I expect to see you soon Dean.” Was all you said before you left them- closing the door behind you. Oh yea, he definitely owed you- you were probably going to lose your job over this.

#dean x reader #castiel x reader #BAMF!Reader #Bouncer!Reader #Hunter!Reader #Sam #Dean #Castiel #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #Castiel Novak #Flirty!Cas #club name belongs to shadowhunters #you owe me #bad ass mother fucker!reader

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speedofcattle · 5 years

Text

Deconstructing RBC’s InvestEase Advertising Campaign

A quick glance at any number of ads these days can be a relatively simple way to gauge how much more dystopian things are getting. This morning, I looked up at the ads on the subway to notice that Marvel had decided to flaunt their wealth and power in the entertainment industry by buying out every single ad-space on the train to advertise Captain Marvel. Shortly after, I checked my email and saw one from Linkedin reminding me that though it might seem as if there are no jobs, there actually are, they’re just not located conveniently, geographically speaking; for example, there are many jobs in Amazon warehouses just outside of cities - well, why didn’t they say so in the first place? I’m sure those are jobs everyone wants right now!

Anyone who knows me knows I think a lot about advertising, and recently most of my writing about it has been concerned with how it happens online. However, I’ve also recently taken a strong interest in ads that appear in physical space since moving to a city whose transit system is plastered with such ads. One group of them in particular has stuck out to me as of late, and I figure it’s insidious enough that it’s worth deconstructing: This is the group of ads focused on promoting RBC’s “InvestEase”.

The ads in question are a series of images that all follow the same basic formula. They are almost always grouped together in a series on subway platform boards and appear at strategically-chosen locations of high traffic (as well as, conspicuously, high student traffic; I’ll get to that in a minute). What interests me so much about them is how blatant they are in their tactics and how consequently easy they become to deconstruct.

Let’s start with some basics on the ad series as a whole before moving on to look at the individual instances. The ads, as previously stated, are advertising RBC’s “InvestEase” service, which, if the ads are to be believed, make the process of investing “easy”. They appear to be targeted towards “young” people. Just what this vague category entails is not always so easy to define; the ads depict a series of people who look to range from their late 20s to late 30s, but given the ads’ recurring theme of “looking towards the future”, they may also be targeting those slightly out of that age range (eg. early 20s).

The target age range is likely what it is due to corporate anxiety over whether or not younger consumers will invest at the same rates as previous generations. Since banks rely on this for their profits, it is no surprise this anxiety would arise. I can still remember a couple years ago when a small social media campaign began against RBC attacking them for investing customers’ money in anti-Indigenous pipeline-related activities*. It seems that the strategy of these ads is thus to project their anxiety back onto the generation in question in an attempt to make investment a point of serious concern in their everyday lives.

But it can’t be too serious - young people don’t like that. So RBC has chosen to co-opt a specific format popular in young people’s internet humour: the ads take the form of memes. Not just any memes, mind you; specifically these ads fall into the genre of “reaction images”. This genre is typically comprised of two parts: a textual statement of a condition (most often beginning with “When…”, eg. “When you work three jobs but still can’t afford rent in your city”) and an accompanying image, usually of a person, meant to reflect what this condition “feels like”. This is the most recent form of memes in this genre that I’m aware of; the “ancestor” of the meme, so to speak, is likely the “tfw” meme from 4chan. Initializing “That Feel When” (eg. “tfw no gf” - “gf” being itself an initialism of “girlfriend”), memes of this type would take mostly the same format as more recent reaction images, albeit with the slightly amended text and a more limited range of accompanying images - typically one would see either “Pepe” or the “feels guy”**. My guess is that “tfw” memes gave way to the reaction image format partially because of the former’s limited range of accompanying images, partially because of its tendency towards cryptic initialisms that are not always easily understood by audiences of different ages/linguistic profiles and partially because of its association with 4chan in the first place, which has come to be seen in more recent times as a “toxic” site, one to avoid reference to in social settings.

There are three main things that interest me about RBC’s use of reaction images for this ad campaign. The first is that the actual images involved are not well-established stock photos or photos cultural icons, as most reaction images tend to be; they are instead uniquely-created content meant to better reflect the values RBC is trying to sell to encourage the use of InvestEase. The second thing that fascinates me is that these ads have managed to do something that many ads online have failed at time and again: they have successfully deployed a meme format without it coming across as overly “cringe-y” to young people. Now I can’t say that with 100% confidence, and obviously my deconstruction of these ads is probably only going to make them seem more that way - but on the other hand, I haven’t yet seen anyone post pictures of them online to mock them for trying to appeal too much to “the youth”, despite the fact that this is exactly what they’re doing. The third thing I wanted to note is somewhat related to that last point: the ads have also accomplished something (relatively) new by successfully bringing a digital advertising format (memes) into a physical format with almost no “glitches” or turbulence. This sets a precedent for other companies and I now wonder if we won’t see far more of these in subsequent years.

Beyond the youth target in terms of age, these ads have a couple other demographic qualities worth noting. While some of the ads depict people with worried expressions on their faces, most depict seemingly happy people. This is obviously an attempt to make investing (an inherently risky practice) less “scary” to younger demographics by showing that there’s “more good than bad” in it (“good” always being associated with cases in which the people depicted have “made the right choice” and invested with RBC). The gendered breakdown of humans depicted in these ads is not 50/50; each ad contains a picture of a single person, and while 5 of the ads depict men, only 3 depict women. While all of the women depicted would be considered “conventionally attractive” and relatively skinny, only a few of the men would be. Finally, while the pictures of men depict men of various races (including white, black and asian men), all of the women depicted are white. These demographics send messages: you can be a woman in a public place, as long as you’re pretty and white. Also, women are (inexplicably) supposedly less interested in investing than men. You can chalk up these messages to laziness or carelessness on the part of the advertising team, but I see a more likely explanation in the fact that women tend to make less money than men on average and women of colour make even less than that average; thus it’s actually more profitable to advertise to men and white women anyway, so why would RBC bother including a picture of a woman of colour?

Having concluded this initial analysis of the ads as a coherent series, let’s look at each one on an individual level and see what kinds of messages they deliver.

1 - This is a “happy” ad, as you can see by the woman’s smile. But it is not a happiness of immediate gratification; the text indicates that the subject won’t have to “live with roommates forever”. The happiness is based on the future projection that the woman’s decision to invest with RBC has paid off. The image depicts a scene of mess and disarray surrounding the woman, which acts as an abject “other” that can be contrasted with her “smart decision to invest in the future” (the implication being that it is the roommates, not her, who caused the mess). This scene is interesting as it involves a “transitional” state, one in which there is a suggested necessary “struggle” that the individual must live through in order to come out “richer” (quite literally) on the other side***. The abjection of the roommates as inherently sloppy creates a kind of essentialist narrative of life in which it is always more desirable not to live with roommates, an individualist paradigm that pits itself against more communal living. The spectre of “living with roommates forever” hangs heavy in this ad, effectively threatening a younger generation that is unwilling to invest with this prospect as a consequence of not complying with the ad’s suggestion.

2 - This is an “anxious” ad, obvious through the woman’s distraught expression. The statement that “your kids are growing faster than your money” invokes the anxiety to match it. It is telling that the only ad that mentions children is one that features a woman, reinforcing the social conventions that women are “natural caregivers” to children and that taking care of children is thus justified as being primarily “women’s work”. The association of the money with the children here has a few interesting angles to it; the most obvious is that investment is being portrayed here as not only something you do “for yourself”, but also for your children; investment is now part of the “maternal care” - if you really care about your kids, you’ll invest so you don’t end up poor and unable to provide for them. As a result, this is possibly one of the most threatening of the InvestEase ads. A different angle, however, may be seen by returning to the comparison between the children and the money; children may too come to be seen as “investments” for the future, which is why it’s important for the mother to “invest her time” in them, invoking a three-part chain of investment - the woman invests her money with RBC, which eventually pays back so she can invest in her kids.

3 - This is a “happy” ad, though only cautiously so and perhaps the most subtle of these. The woman in the photo is depicted as doing some kind of meditative exercise (possibly yoga; for the sake of short-forms, I will refer to it as “yoga” from this point on while later problematizing this notion). She is, however, not completely absorbed in the meditation - she is instead peeking at her laptop screen with one eye. The caption states that she has realized that “her money is working hard even when she’s not”. This particular ad sends several interesting messages. The first is immediately apparent in the open eye distracting the woman from her yoga practice; whatever “mindfulness” activity she is doing for self-improvement is actually of secondary importance to her - she is actually more interested in whether or not her investment is paying off. The mere fact that she is doing yoga is itself important. The ad is clearly trying to cater to a recent craze for any type of “self-improvement” activity that can nevertheless be separated from work, such activities typically focusing on achieving some kind of “peace” or “spirituality” (presumably because one’s work is so physically-demanding, or stressful, or unbearable, or nihilistic, or meaningless, etc.). The ad makes a clear distinction with its caption that such activities are “not work”, in spite of the fact that in many cultures today and throughout history, spiritual practices have been considered as having at least as much significance and requiring at least as much effort as a full-time job. This suggestion that yoga is not work is even stranger when I consider the fact that I saw an ad on the subway on the same day I saw this one that suggested “turning your passion into your career”; the ad’s example of such a career was a woman who enjoyed yoga so much, she opened her own yoga studio. This contrast between “mindfulness activities” as a means of relaxation/non-work that is fully detached from the labour market and these same self-improvement activities as a means of personal monetary profit through “entrepreneurship” is one that should be examined more carefully.

And what is to be said for the other half of this statement? We know that the woman is apparently “hardly working”, but why is her money “working hard”? This is a cut-and-dry case of Marx’s commodity fetishism, though with an interesting twist. The money in investment is, in truth, incapable of working itself; thus the money is presumably going towards building the capital and workforce of all the corporations who are expected to grow economically and provide a profitable return for the investment. All of this involves a great deal of workers doing actual labour with material resources, which is conveniently excluded from the scene depicted here in favour of the suggestion that the “money is working hard”. The kicker here is that technically there is a reference to labour in that statement through its implication of “hard work” - but the labour is the imaginary labour of the money the woman invested having somehow “worked” to “improve itself” so that it can move from being the price to being the product. It is fascinating to see how well this imaginary labour’s “short circuit” parallels the woman’s own self-improvement activities.

4 - This is a “happy” ad, as is made clear by the man’s smile and the optimistic caption. The man has apparently realized that he “doesn’t need a degree in money to invest”. As with other aspects of these ads targeting young demographics, it seems that the purpose of such a statement would be to make investment less “scary” to young people. This is emphasized through the use of a simplified “degree in money” rather than “degree in finance”, or “degree in economics”. This serves a secondary function in erasing the labour that goes into managing investments, as many workers who do have “degrees in money” labour intensively both to manage everyday investments and to help develop tools that make investment more accessible, like InvestEase. In contrast to the woman in [3], we see this man actively engaged in his investing (if momentarily distracted by his epiphany) while also relaxing in a bath; his leisure time is not used for self-improvement, which may be related to the social expectations that women are expected to do more intensive labour and discipline themselves to appear more desirable (eg. through means such as physical activities, of which yoga is one), while men are not held to the same standard. Thus the man is allowed to sit back and relax in a bubble bath, having only to worry about the growth of his money as a means of self-improvement, as men are expected to be the holders of material wealth (rather than embodied wealth) in society.

5 - This is an “anxious” ad, as indicated by the man’s apparent “freezing” in the middle of a daily routine. The man has stopped brushing his teeth as he realizes in horror that “his little brother has started investing before him”. This adds a competitive element to the ad, suggesting that there should be a kind of “race to invest” before a rival-like figure (such as a brother) begins to do the same. It also marks investment as a kind of “rite of passage”, making the spectre of the younger brother’s investment significant in a different manner; the mood invoked is almost as if the younger brother was getting married before the man in the picture, or beginning his first full-time job, or any number of other “significant life activities”. By placing investment in this context, RBC has effectively “naturalized” it as an activity desirable mainly because it is “what one does” by a certain point. The combination of the “sibling rivalry” competition and the “missed rite of passage” anxiety serve to justify the notion that competition is all-important in capitalism not only by economic law, but also by cultural convention.

6 - This is an “anxious” ad, visible in the expression of concern and distractedness in the man who has presumably just bought (or is about to buy) new shoes. The caption suggests that he “invests more in his shoes than his future” and is only realizing this now. This caption indicates a changing of values in the man’s life; like [5] and [1], it is a “transitional” image marking a turning point for the subject. There is something almost religious about this particular ad; the man’s epiphany here is directly related to a turn away from his material possessions towards something less physically tangible. The intangible object is described in the caption as “his future”, but in truth, this “future” is (as mentioned in [3]) tied directly to material labour and processes necessary for his investment to grow in the first place. Interestingly, the shoes the man is depicted next to are framed by the caption in terms of investment rather than personal enjoyment, implying that the man is buying the shoes with an expectation of some kind of similar “return” on them to that he might expect from an investment. I hope I’m not stretching too far here when I ask: surely not all personal-level decisions are made in this way?

7 - This is a “happy” ad, and one of the most obviously-so due to the celebratory gestures of the man depicted in his chair. The man’s computer screen shows a graph rising higher and higher along its x axis, presumably indicating the projected future growth of his wealth. The caption implies that this is an estimation of “what you could be worth in 10 years”. One thing that is immediately important to note here is that the most optimistic outcome has been strategically depicted; while investment is at root a mere requirement for anyone’s money to keep up with inflation so it stays at the same value throughout their lifetime, its growth to the degree depicted on the computer screen here over a decade is uncommon. Further, it is practically a cliche at this historical moment to remind people that they are “worth more than just the sum of their bank account” - and yet this ad seems to have no problem refuting such a claim by equating “what you could be worth” (and by extension, what you “are currently worth”) with your money.

8 - This is a “happy” ad, and what could probably seen as the “closing” ad in this series. There are few signifiers to communicate important messages here other than the man’s broad smile and the caption marking “completeness” of the decision to invest with RBC: “When you realize you’re officially an investor”.

*Forgive me if this is slightly inaccurate, my memory’s a little foggy and I don’t have the time to dig up the exact details of this campaign at the moment

**Not worth describing in this discussion. Those interested can search and find more about this easily if you don’t already know what they are.

***See any of Foucault’s discussions on the “discipline of the self” for more on this.

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