i want superpowers


During my signing today I overheard a guy start asking everyone if he could cut them in line without really waiting for their approval. “He must REALLY like me” I thought as I readied my hand around the pepper spray I keep holstered to my hip. As he rushed to the front of the line I noticed he bought four books. So naturally I married him. Thanks @CMPunk for being my biggest fan/supporter/sexy roommate for life. And thank you @XChadballX and @AnthonyAmor for being our officiant and witness respectively. - AJ

anonymous asked:

If the FAHC had superpowers, what do you think they'd have? I'd like to imagine Lil J having powers of vegetation because I like the flower Jeremy thing. After that, I'm stumped.

Off the top of my head in the roughest and dirtiest way possible because I’m taking a break from an assignment…

Ryan: He’s basically Deadpool already, right? Look, it just explains a lot.

Jeremy: While I really love Plant Jeremy (and just now made the connection between Plant Jeremy and Ryan with houseplants and oh my god, my Battle Buddies-loving heart) – I can really see Jeremy with super strength. No one underestimates Lil’ J.

Michael: Super speed. He’s basically Quicksilver and oh-so-cool about it. Except his knees aren’t so great anymore. Slows him down a bit – not that anyone else can catch it.

Gavin: You would think temporal manipulation, but no. Gavin’s a Fire-starter. Seriously? Who gave this boy fire?! (Me, apparently.) He’s a walking disaster zone, but his Boi’s got his back.

Jack: Shape-shifting. You would not believe how easy getting access to secure information is when you look the part. Not to mention the free flight lessons you can get by kidnapping students on their way to their first lesson.

Geoff: Telekinesis and telepathy. The Professor X of this motley crew. He uses his power exactly how you’d imagine… mostly to try to stick things in Gavin’s butt. He also eavesdrops on the other’s thoughts constantly to mess with them although he has more sense than to break into Jack’s mind and steers clear of Ryan’s entirely, because what the fuck Ryan?

@kingsofchaos has an incredible Super-powered FAHC headcanon too.

Short but accurate summaries of popular books/series
  • Red Rising: *George RR Martin approved*
  • Lux: Main love interest is the child of Jace Herondale and Number Four.
  • Raven Cycle: Fun with Dick and Jane. Except instead of fun there's dead people.
  • Ruby Red: Homework is a more appealing option than time travel.
  • Endgame: The 39 Clues, rated R. Also everything you know is wrong.
  • Shadowhunter Chronicles: Racist and oppressive society keeps blatantly ignoring that its racism and oppression is why the oppressed keep trying to kill them.
  • School For Good and Evil: Two girls are the first in +200 years to call BS on heavy prejudices that have made their school an incredibly toxic environment.
  • Vicious: If you relate/agree with either main character, PLEASE seek professional help.
  • The Young Elites: Kindly check your moral compass and whatever sense of morality you may have left at the door, thank you and try not to die.
  • Throne of Glass: Protagonist will love you if you give her a gorgeous dress, a puppy, chocolate cake, or an assortment of deadly weapons (and preferably a reason to use them).
  • Coldest Girl In Coldtown: Vampires go viral. This is basically a quote.
  • Steelheart: Nice try, Brandon Sanderson, I still want superpowers.
  • Gates of Thread and Stone: "ALL RIGHT, WHO STARTED THE APOCALYPSE?" *magic and science point at each other accusingly*
  • Red Queen: Superpowers+racism=a whole lot of dead people.
  • The Darkest Minds: Good news, you survived a deadly plague. Bad news, the government officials who now dictate your life REALLY wish you hadn't.
  • Penryn and the End of Days: Angels and Humans differ in every conceivable aspect...except sarcasm. That's universal.
The act of running generates 3 to 5 times your body weight in impact force per foot-strike. Your bones have to get harder, your muscles need to adapt and get stronger, and you can’t rush that process.

 Matt Forsman, a San Francisco Bay area-based USATF-certified running coach

that first part is so crazy to me. runners are fucking superheroes

cracksandcraters  asked:

1+7+9. an open air market. someone is selling something unusual - something that you didn't think (still? yet?) existed.


7 is sam, 9 is javier. 1 is tarquin, who is from a completely different world altogether, but i guess he gets to make a cameo as a government agent here or something??? he is The Blond Dude.

(this probably didn’t get as bizarrely interesting as you were probably hoping, sorry)

ETA: i used the wrong pronouns for mickey because i am a MORON

“There’s a DSA agent here,” Sam muttered. He kept his face down, poking through a flea market booth selling knock-off sunglasses. He wondered if he should point them out to said DSA agent; the man he had marked was several stalls down the row, quietly flashing his badge at the old lady selling her purses knitted from plastic bags. She squinted at the proffered badge, asking the gentleman in shades and a black suit to repeat his questions, please, she was a little hard of hearing, haha, oh, that darn senioritis. He stood out like a sore thumb.

“What do they look like?” Mickey chirped in Sam’s ear; the earpiece Sam wore looked like a hearing aid, remarkably similar to the ones the old lady wore. Sam moved down to the next stall, trying to get a good angle and remain unobtrusive as he switched his phone camera on. The photo was unzoomed, but he managed to catch a decent glimpse of the bald, brown-skinned man. He looked like he had walked off a movie poster about a CIA spook.

There was the sound of muffled cursing; Sam guessed Mickey had left their seat for a moment on the other end of the line. Continuing on down the row of market booths, Sam finally found someone selling cell phone accessories. He had to search through about a thousand of these for what he was looking for, and so far all of the sellers had given him blank looks when he carefully asked, “Do you have any Spring Awakening phone covers?”

But this young, sharp-eyed Vietnamese lady gave him a quick, appraising look, and leaned her elbows on the table. “Give me just one second,” she said sweetly, winking. She disappeared to rummage through the totes under her tables.

“Oh, shoot, that’s Javier Charrans.”

Eli’s voice in Sam’s ear startled him; he was supposed to be on the other edge of the massive swap meet, combing through the potential sellers on that side, and kept his earpiece turned off after Sam complained about all the whistling.

“MC just sent me the picture. Look, buddy, I’ll have to get back to the van. He’ll recognize me on sight, and then we’re screwed.”

Sam frowned. “Fine,” he muttered in an undertone, “I think I found it anyway.”

“Great. Grab it and get the hell outta here. You see any other agents?”


“I didn’t notice anyone either. Oh - don’t let him touch you.”

Sam wanted to ask why not, but then the girl had reappeared, a locked, black Pelican case in her hands. The flimsy card table shuddered as she shoved re-packaged earbuds out of the way and plopped the case down.

“Suit,” Sam muttered, shifting so that his back was to Javier Charrans. The young woman arched her eyebrows, then leaned to the side. She nodded, but didn’t do anything, and Sam was a little surprised.

“We’re just gonna - ? Right in the open?” he hazarded, and she shrugged.

“It ain’t gonna be a problem unless you keep fussing, sweetheart,” she informed him, smacking away on an enormous wad of bubblegum. Sam shot her a briefly irritated look, but then pulled his satchel off his shoulder and dropped it on the table.

“I gotta see it first,” Sam said. They had been looking for the parts for months, now - everyone had thought all of Wildcard’s weapons had been either completely destroyed or confiscated by the Department of Superpower Affairs. Mercury Independent had been about to give up on the job and inform their client that they couldn’t find any of the parts when an underworld contact had finally pointed them towards some absurdly massive, but underrated, swap meet. People had tried to sell MI fake parts three times now, and Sam was confident that this was just one more scam.

But then the girl popped her bubblegum and opened the lockbox. “No pictures, sweetie,” she warned, when Sam raised his phone over the tangle of wires and machinery. It looked like it might have been some bizarre Star Trek phaser, once upon a time. He obediently tucked his phone away again.

“I think it’s the one,” Sam muttered cautiously into his earpiece.

“Describe it for me,” Mickey said. Sam didn’t know where to start, but then the Vietnamese lady sighed and flipped over the mess, pointing out the logo, and a set of numbers etched into the metal underneath. Sam repeated the numbers, and Mickey hissed, “Finally. That’s gotta be it, everyone else had the numbers wrong.”

“Or maybe she’s just smarter than everyone else,” Sam muttered. He was not quiet enough; the girl shot him a dark look, then leaned back in her chair, stretching out her arms.

“You’re not wrong,” she sniffed, “but that’s definitely the real deal. Why, hello, sir.” Her eyes gleamed behind her glasses as she looked over Sam’s shoulder. “Don’t bother pulling out the badge, darling, you’re a little obvious.”

The back of Sam’s neck crawled. He glanced around to see the DSA agent standing behind him and just to the side, replacing his wallet back into his suit jacket with the barest hint of a smile.

Sam’s hands clenched around the satchel, full of nonsequential hundred-dollar-bills. He was screwed, he was so screwed, he would go straight to prison the second the DSA opened his file. 

“What have you got here?” Javier asked, his hands tucked into his pockets. The Vietnamese woman opened her brown eyes wide, wide, and gave them both a sweet smile.

“Why, it’s a replica of a gun from that space TV show, sir,” she lied smoothly. “Those things are all the rage…sir.”

Javier leaned his hip against the table; Sam edged away and gave the girl a dark look. What the hell was she doing?

“Really?” he asked lightly, looking from her to Sam. It was impossible to read the guy’s expression behind his dark sunglasses. Sam tried to keep his cool, but he could feel himself sweating, and didn’t dare say a word. “How much are these replicas going for these days?”

“Ten thousand,” she answered smoothly, glancing from Javier to Sam. “Starting, anyway.”

Sam had up to twenty in his bag, but he wasn’t sure that he could just pull it out in front of a freaking DSA agent.

“Is she seriously going to auction that off?” Mickey said, voice full of outrage. “Montoya! That brat’s playing us off the DSA agent!”

“Aw, geez,” Eli said. “Director’ll murder us if we let the DSA get that.”

Eli and Mickey were being thoroughly unhelpful. Javier and the Vietnamese girl were both staring at him now, clearly waiting for a response. Sam knew what to look for; he could tell the agent was packing under his jacket, which was probably why he didn’t pull it off in the blazing summer heat. He knew, without Mickey muttering in his ear, that actually buying the ‘replica’ would just end up with him cuffed and dragged off to prison.

“Wait, hold on,” Mickey muttered in his ear. “I love public directories - here we go.”

The silence was growing longer and more awkward; the woman looked irritated with Sam’s lack of response, and she started to pull the box towards her when Javier’s phone rang.

He glanced down at it, frowned, then backed away for one split second. Sam made his decision.

“Twenty,” he said urgently, while Javier answered his phone with a tentative, “Director…?”

“Yes, hello, Agent Charrans,” Mickey said, their voice muffled but as deep and exaggerated as they could possibly make it.

“No,” Eli corrected, “DSA director’s a woman -”

It was too late - the distraction abruptly lost effect and Javier scowled. “Who is this?”

The Vietnamese woman looked at Sam, startled, but then she grinned and nodded, shoving the box at Sam. “You MI types are always good for a quick sell,” she said cheerfully. Javier glanced up with a frown, then cursed and shoved his phone in his pocket.

Sam dropped the bag of money on the table, grabbed the box with Wildcard’s last gun, and ran.

There was a crash behind him, Sam shot one looked over his shoulder to see the Vietnamese girl cheerfully tip her entire table over right in front of Javier, with an all-too-cheerful, “Woopsy-daisy!” Sam resolved to kiss her if he ever saw her again.

“What happened?” Mickey demanded.

“I grabbed it, I’m running,” Sam said, darting around a clog of a young family with far too many screaming kids. “I’m going to prison, I can’t believe this -”

“What’s your closest exit?” Eli asked. “We’ll pick you up, just hurry. Javi’s the best one, but he won’t mess around.”

“Uhhhh…” All Sam knew was that he was going south. Probably. He thought. He dodged between two stalls, jumping over a tote full of secondhand clothes, and ran straight into Javier’s backup.

A tall, blond man clotheslined him straight in the throat. Sam swore as he hit the ground on his back, the breath rushing out of him. He stared up at the man, who looked down at him with green eyes and a grin, both equally sharp. He wore a suit, just like Javier.

Without even thinking, Sam rammed the heavy Pelican case right into the bastard’s knees. “Found the backup,” Sam grunted, rolling onto his knees as the other DSA agent tripped backwards, swearing.

“Crap. Get out of there.”

What do you think I’m doing,” Sam seethed back at Eli. He was completely turned around, but he saw some red-brick buildings appear over the tents and stalls, and angled for that. The swap meet was held on a wide, abandoned lot in a residential distract. “Head for the street - uh, west. I think.”

“We’ll be there,” Eli promised. Sam rubbed his throat as he ran, but that quick, sharp pain was already a distant memory. He finally burst from the swap meet - and found a street devoid of the dark blue SUV Eli was supposed to be driving.

“Where the hell are you!” Sam trotted down the street, looking over his shoulder.

“16th -”

“I’m on Southward!”

“You said west!” Mickey complained. “We’re on the wrong side - dammit, Montoya, hurry up and drive -”

“Crossing the street.” Sam wanted to put as much distance between himself and the two DSA agents as he possibly could. He ducked into an alleyway and finally allowed himself to stop, checking the Pelican case to make sure it hadn’t popped open while he ran.

That was when he looked down, and realized that his shoes were glowing - and that he had left a trail of green footprints all across the street.

“What the hell?” he muttered. Sam lifted one shoe, trying to scrape the glow off, but it wasn’t coming from any foreign substance. It was obvious - one of the agents had some bizarre power - and his stomach dropped when he saw the blond agent across the street.

Before Sam could run, again, someone knifed him in the back.

“I want the superpower that lets me eat and eat, but never gain weight. I want the superpower that makes me digest food well and have a very high metabolism. I hear a lot from elders that I have pretty ears. As it’ll be right before I’m 30, I think I’ll feel strange, and I think I’ll be working hard as an actress.” - Kim Yoo Jung

tisonlychaos  asked:

⚡️ and 🐧?

superpower: i want that adam sandler click type shit w/o the consequences. i’d freeze time and sleep for as long as i want. rewind it to change my decision or do something better. would also freeze time so i could punch people and/or kiss them

describe myself in 3 words: eat sleep cry

anonymous asked:

how do u feel about mental manipulation when it comes to like... comprehension of what's being said. for example like character A says "blah blah i love and appreciate you, come home" and character b hears "i hate your guts and i never want to see you again" or something.

I mean, I’m all for mental manipulation in general.  Love it as a plot point.  So, like, using some sort of control to change how B’s environment seems? (Because if you could change what they seem to say you could change how they look or what appears around them?).

No joke, that’s my favorite thing and I spend a lot of time thinking about it.  To the point it’s what I’d want my superpower to be.

What brings this up?

I got tagged by @livelikeanangel-dielikethedevil and @william-shakespeare-jr for this, thanks!

1. morning rituals: Procrastinate getting out of bed for as long as possible, then go drink enough coffee to motivate me to get ready.

2. biggest fear: Not being able to accomplish my goals I guess

3. cloudy or sunny: Sunny, unless it’s really hot then cloudy.

4. a band you didn’t like at first but grew on you: Children of Bodom tbh

5. song stuck in your head: Nothing, probably since I’m listening to music atm.

6. unrealistic dream: Owning the amount of pets that I want….

7. dream superpower: Probably teleportation so I wouldn’t be late all the time

8. any regrets?: Yeah

9. superstitious?: Not really

10. something that makes you feel alive: Going to a concert, having a lot of caffeine in my system, going for a hike and seeing some nice scenery, and getting the food I’ve been craving.

11. favourite genre of film: Bad shark movies

12. favourite movie: Can’t choose but I really love Harry Potter as everyone probably knows already lol

13. favourite season: Fall

14. favourite colour: Green

15. favourite foods: Pizza, ribs, lasagna, chicken, burritos, ice cream, burgers

16. worst habit: Overthinking and procrastinating

17. how many countries have you been to?: The one I live in and that’s it.

I tag @hell–hammer @death-is-only-everlasting @runaround-man @metal-and-liberty @just-one-more-bridge-to-cross and @silverstagpotter

Giorno Mista fusion for @dailypassione fusion week! 

“You conscious… is even brighter than the sunrise, lighting up the path ahead… the path that we will walk on!” 

So his name is Elio and his stand would be Walking On Sunshine :) :) :)

It gains power from light (sunlight and artificial light) and heat energy, like it can absorb light and heat from around it to boost its strength and speed and use it in combat. It can transfer light/heat/energy through his hands into other objects. It can also an make the area around themselves freezing cold/burning hot or really bright/dark. etc. Doesn’t necessarily need sunlight but is weaker without it.