#I think that should be one of the big things making Danny reluctant to ever tell them the truth

[alternis]

several days ago my brain did some calculations and beamed into my conscious thought "if third eye au tim is parallel to both cass and red hood Jason maybe he should have cotard's syndrome after shiva saves his life. he's self aware that it's an irrational delusion, but other than compartmentalisation and meditative techniques there isn't a lot he can do bc mental health care in the dcu is Real Bad"

(cotard's syndrome is a set of related delusions that the sufferer is dead/missing body parts/etc, sometimes called 'walking corpse syndrome')

its a thematically a blending of cass's death wish and Jason's "I died and came back" thing (since Jason doesn't die in this au so tim fulfills a symbolic parallel of his role as a ghost from batman past reminding him of how he failed them),

except rather than seeking death or revenge it turns inward (since Tim tends to live in his own head when stressed. a withdrawn tim is a struggling tim). like, he isn't seeking death. because on a subconscious level he's convinced he already died and is somehow still functioning. anf he's not going to put himself in dangerous situations because he thinks he deserves it, like cass, or seek revenge for his death like Jason. he's very high functioning. but it means he's also weirdly chill about the concept of dying and accepts that shiva is going to kill him some day and doesn't do a lot to avoid that future since internally it doesn't feel like a big deal.

but he definitely doesn't want to kill anybody ever again, consciously because a) his personal moral compass and b) to him his death and the act of killing zsasz are intrinsically linked. but also, on a subconscious level, being dead is terrible and he doesn't want to inflict it on another person.

it starts immediately after he wakes up from surviving the Very Traumatic Exsanguination where he absolutely would have died if it weren't for shiva's healing techniques and getting him a backalley blood transfusion (and possibly his heart gave out/had to be manually restarted for Symbolic Purposes), and is just. unobtrusively laying beneath every decision he makes going forward. it really doesn't help that death isn't a permanent condition in dc, and the more public resurrections there are the more he's like. well shit maybe this isn't such a Weird Situation.

this idea slowly permeated from the back of my head out into third eye canon

potentially, and I'm still trying to figure this one out, a version of the evil future titans plot happens but tim figures out in a private conversation with one of the evil future titans (via deduction from how they treat him as neither a potential threat nor potential ally) that in their future he's dead, and is just very chill about that concept even when he asks for more details and finds out that it'll be three months from now but none of them will be able to prevent it because none of them know the details. he just vanished, and later shiva admitted to having killed him.

so of course rather than start preparing a daring counter move (he already used up the poison gambit) he just gets his affairs in order and waits for shiva to contact him, and when she does vanishes into the night

except at this point in the timeline danny temple/krait is a reluctant teen titan member, tracks Tim down and interrupts the fight (a very bad idea! that is shivas least favourite thing!) but, unlike Tim, he has actually planned for how to prevent shiva killing his bestie/long time crush ever since he found out that she trains people in order to Duel with Them to The Death when they're at their peak prowess. so he manages to take a wounded Tim back to a secret kobra bunker and after some Dramatic Talk tim reveals the whole. 'doesn't really care about dying because he's felt dead since the day she saved him and every time he looks in the mirror all he sees is his own corpse staring back at him' thing. yes he knows it's irrational and delusional. of course he won't tell the other titans. he figured out the secret identities of half the justice league as a teenager and was trained by the world's deadliest martial artist, he cant let anybody know he's got Flaws or Instabilities bc then he'd become a potential threat (somewhere, batman feels a moment of strange validation over his paranoia towards his allies on the justice league. he shrugs and goes back to spying on green lanterns text messages)

after he finally accepts his condition may benefit from actual treatment he can go ~mad scientist~ and seemingly start secretly researching mind control/brainwashing technology but when the team confronts him it turns out he's just trying to treat his own mental health condition diy style bc he justifiably does not trust the psychiatric professionals of the dc universe. he gets a secret villain lab setup as a treat. as an enrichment activity. he and krait take apart stolen kobra technology to reverse engineer it together instead of going on normal dates

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars XCV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: TODAY IS THE DAY I SEND MY LAST ESSAY PLS PRAY SO I CAN BE FREE -Danny

Words: 3,601

Series’ Masterlist

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Chapter Thirty: Through a Darker Standpoint.

"Is something on your mind, dear girl?" Dumbledore asked attentively.

Mel was writing down their last lesson before going back to her common room. Dumbledore told her this was the final class they'd be having that trimester, and she was deep in thought, her eyes fixed on Fawkes.

"No..." She said. "Well, yes..."

"You want to ask me–?"

"Did you mean it when you say you'd help me to become an animagus?" She looked away from the bird and directly into his eyes. "Or were you just humouring me?"

"Was I humouring you when I agreed to give you lessons?"

"No," She pointed to her notes. "Clearly..."

"I'll help with your education as animagus as much as I'm helping you with this," Dumbledore looked at her over his glasses. "Patience is a virtue, and learning will often require for you to wait."

"I know that it's just..." She shook her head. "I don't know, maybe I'm exhausted. I could use a break."

"I hope you find it refreshing. Anything else?"

Mel gave up, she closed her notebook and put down her quill.

"Is the third task harder than the others?"

"I see," He smiled. "Harry's done a remarkable job, Mel. I wouldn't worry about how things will turn out, the task, once over, it's over for good."

"But are you sure?"

There was a glint in Dumbledore's eyes that gave away his amusement. "You care a lot, don't you?"

"Some may say more than what's necessary..." She grumbled.

"There's no such thing as caring too much about a loved one's safety. I would've done anything to keep my sister safe. Wanting our family to be happy is the main reason why we do the impossible, isn't it? You more than anyone should know, dear girl."

There was always that uneasy feeling questioning how much was she truly prepared to face danger. One day, there was going to be no Albus Dumbledore to tell her what to do, just her and her skills. Mel could only hope that'd be enough.

"You two are to go down to the Quidditch field tonight at nine o'clock," McGonagall told them after the last lesson of the week. "Mr Bagman will be there to tell the champions about the third task."

When Harry and Mel made their way to the entrance, Cedric and Erick appeared from their respective passages. The latter threw a knowing smile their way that she ignored.

"What d'you reckon it's going to be?" Cedric asked Harry as they all went together to the Quidditch Field. "Fleur keeps going on about underground tunnels; she reckons we've got to find treasure."

"That wouldn't be too bad," Harry shrugged.

"Guess?" Erick nudged her arm playfully.

"Your brother moved out?" She ventured.

"I wish! No, my grandad wrote to me yesterday. He's coming to see the third task!"

"Oh... I didn't know others could come to see it!"

"I don't know if it's exactly allowed," Erick looked ahead, frowning a little. "He used his 'this is my last chance' speech, Dumbledore welcomed him with open arms."

"What've they done to it?" They heard Cedric's voice ahead, Mel finally looked toward the field and let out a tiny gasp.

The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.

"They're hedges!" said Harry, bending to examine the nearest one.

"Hello, there!" called a cheery voice.

"If you ask me," The corner of Erick's lips were up, holding back a smirk. "This is an improvement."

Mel hushed him before Harry could hear him, the boy was a huge Quidditch fan and still didn't like Flint, so Erick had to be careful.

Ludo Bagman waved at them to get closer, Krum and Fleur were there. As they grew nearer Mel noticed the radiant smile Fleur was giving Harry. She knew this was mostly thanks to Harry's act during the second task, Fleur was showing a new attitude of camaraderie that Mel thought it suited her. If she could keep it up and not complain about Hogwarts and their food, Mel figured she could even be a great friend.

"Well, what d'you think?" Bagman inquired as they finally reached them. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry, you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over!" Erick gave a quiet 'hurray' that sounded nothing but sarcastic, Harry heard it. "Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

"Maze," Krum replied lowly.

"That's right! A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."

"We seemply 'ave to get through the maze?" said Fleur.

"There will be obstacles. Hagrid is providing a number of creatures... then there will be spells that must be broken... all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze. Then Mr Krum will enter... then Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending on how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

Harry, Mel and Erick shared a knowing look, Hagrid's creatures didn't sound fun at all when you were acquainted with them.

"Very well... if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly..."

"I have one," Mel said. "How are we going to keep a record on the champions, I mean, what if one of them gets hurt?"

"Members of the school's staff, as well as Mr Flint and you, will be helping around the maze, there's no use on explaining everything now but rest assured, Miss Dumbledore. There won't be any major risks."

Bagman attempted once again to have a private word with Harry, but Krum got there first. Mel came into a halt a few feet away, as well as Bagman and Erick.

"Could I haff a vord?" She heard Krum ask.

"Yeah, all right," said Harry, his brow raising a little and glancing at her for just a second.

"Vill you valk vith me?"

"Okay..."

"I'll wait for you, Harry, shall I?" Bagman frowned, a little nervous.

"No, it's okay, Mr Bagman, I think I can find the castle on my own, thanks," said Harry, trying to keep as a straight face, then turned to Mel. "Really. You and Flint can keep going too, I'll see you back in the tower."

Mel nodded, Erick grabbed her by the arm gently and pulled her along.

"C'mon," He said quietly. "Probably just looking for relationship advice..."

"From Harry?" Mel snorted, her arm slipping from the boy's grip. "Why would he do that? No one knows about us, not even Hermione so I don't see how Krum would–"

"'Oh, I have a question Mr Bagman, how will I know my boyfriend's safe?'" Erick mocked her. "'How can I physically walk away without having a crisis?'"

"That's not how I sound! And that was a fair question!"

"All I'm saying is that everyone knows, or at least suspects, that there's something between you two. You look insufferable happy all the time, I guess Krum wants to know how you do it."

"Because we're friends," Mel rolled her eyes at the expression on the boy's face. "I mean, we were best friends before we... I don't know, before we became this."

"Before you started dating," Erick nodded.

"I don't know if we're dating," Mel replied stiffly. "We don't go out alone, and when we do we have to be discrete so Skeeter can't have a reliable source. According to Harry, this is so I don't get myself in danger as it happened to Hermione. According to me... well, I can't help but think it's a bit like in my novels, you know?  Keeping things between us kind of makes it more romantical."

"I think I puked a little in my mouth," He scrunched up his nose.

"Hey, you asked!" Mel argued. "What were you expecting me to say? 'Oh yeah, kissing Harry is the most boring thing I've ever done in my life'..."

"I can't take that image out of my mind now, thank you."

"Stop being so whiny," She protested. "Is not my fault that you–"

She stopped short, knowing it was a sensitive subject and it could cause a big fight if not treated carefully.

"That I what?" He halted. "Say it."

Instead of finishing her sentence, Mel sat down upon the front steps of the castle's entrance and sighed. "I'm tired of arguing with you, Flint. If I'm honest, I'm sick of having to walk on my tiptoes and hold back my comments every time we speak."

"This is you holding back?"

"I mean whenever we talk about you," She raised a brow. "I don't have a problem telling you to sod off, but when it's about you it's like you don't want me to know anything. I almost had to force out your Grandad's name out of your mouth!"

"I don't understand. What is your problem?"

"Every wrong thing I say you immediately take it as an opportunity to run off and cut the conversation short. You know everything about me, why are you still acting like I'm not a safe person to talk to?"

For a moment he did look like he was about to ignore her question. His shoulders tensed and he looked away, reluctant to speak. Then, after ten awful seconds, he sat down beside her and let out a quiet groan.

"Think I liked you better when you were tinier and afraid of me..."

"I wasn't afraid," She stated. "I did think you were a bit intimidating, though..."

"S'not that I don't trust you. I've never... I'm not used to talking about what upsets me and when you insist that I should tell you– I... I get frustrated. It's exasperating, not knowing how to express my feelings."

"You, at a loss of words?" Mel smiled shyly.

"Yeah, shocking," He chuckled. "I made bad some decisions and now I'm surrounded by a bunch of gits. I know you want to see it as this endless world of possibilities, that if we try hard enough and live our lives how we want to, no one can hurt us– but is not like that... not for the most of us. You want to live in a fairytale, but all we have is this," He gestured around vaguely. "You and I, and a few people that don't think we're crazy."

"We should be allowed to live as we want, do what we want, and be with who we love! I don't get it– why is it so hard for the rest to understand?" Mel replied heatedly.

Erick stared at her with a funny look in his eyes. "You know, I did tell Joseph you're the smartest witch in school. I know you are, but sometimes your emotions stop you from being even better."

"You sound like my uncle," She scoffed. "I know I'm fickle and impulsive–"

"I didn't mean it like that," He interrupted. "You try to see everything through a gentle perspective, which makes it impossible for you to have a clear view... growing up sucks Mel, I know it as much as you do," He stood up and offered his hand, "we have to do it anyway though, and if you do it, you'll see how hard it's to choose based on how you feel instead of what's suitable."

The Slytherin gazed at her with a hint of something she'd never seen before, almost... pitiful. Mel took his hand and stood up, she felt disheartened by their talk, but there was no easy way to convince Erick to change his mind and there was certainly no way she would change hers. She figured that eventually, one of them would be proven wrong.

It was hard to see this nostalgic version of Erick as the same cold, sarcastic boy she was used to, it was hard to look into his eyes and see how much he looked like he was thousands of years older.

"You and Anne..." She mentioned as they reached the marble staircase. "You've made up your mind, then?"

"There's nothing to decide," He shrugged. "She'll do her life and I'll do mine, if I find a way to be together I'll take it but if not... I'm not going to regret a thing."

Mel wanted to say that he couldn't be sure about that but decided to keep it for herself, there'd been enough discouraging words that night for the both of them, and she didn't want to give him a reason to keep going.

Just as she was reaching the second floor Harry came rushing towards her, he didn't slow down when he saw her, just yelled 'Mr. Crouch appeared!' and kept going.

Mel ran after him without hesitation, she and Harry reached Dumbledore's office and yelled the password, however, it looked like it had changed since the last time she and Dumbledore held her last lesson because the gargoyle didn't move at all.

"C'mon!" Harry yelled in exasperation, running a hand through his hair.

"Harry, what's wrong?" She asked in alarm.

"The staffroom," He said in quiet realization, turning around and starting to run once more.

They were midway to the stairs when Snape found them.

"POTTER! DUMBLEDORE!" He ordered them to get closer and so they did. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to see Professor Dumbledore!" Harry, gasping for air. "It's Mr Crouch... he's just turned up... he's in the forest... he's asking —"

"What is this rubbish?" said Snape. "What are you talking about?"

He looked at Mel for an explanation but Mel didn't know what was happening either, Harry insisted in an angry tone.

"Mr Crouch! From the Ministry! He's ill or something — he's in the forest, he wants to see Dumbledore! Just give me the password up to —"

"The headmaster is busy," said Snape, smiling as if denying Harry of a simple favour was making him happier than it should.

"I've got to tell Dumbledore!"

"Didn't you hear me, Potter?"

"Look," Harry continued, almost growling, "Crouch isn't right — he's — he's out of his mind — he says he wants to warn —"

"Is there a problem?" Dumbledore appeared from behind Snape, looking at them curiously.

"Professor! Mr Crouch is here — he's down in the forest, he wants to speak to you!"

"Lead the way," Dumbledore said.

Mel was thankful Dumbledore was Headmaster and not Snape, even if she didn't know what was going on, she figured Snape would rather see them in distress than tend their emergencies.

"What did Mr Crouch say, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as they approached the staircase again.

"Said he wants to warn you... said he's done something terrible... he mentioned his son... and Bertha Jorkins... and — and Voldemort... something about Voldemort getting stronger..."

"Indeed," Dumbledore walked faster alongside them.

"He's not acting normally, he doesn't seem to know where he is. He keeps talking like he thinks Percy Weasley's there, and then he changes and says he needs to see you... I left him with Viktor Krum."

"You did?" He sounded almost alarmed now. "Do you know if anybody else saw Mr Crouch?"

"No, Krum and I were talking, Mr Bagman had just finished telling us about the third task so Mel and Erick were long gone as well, Krum and I stayed behind, and then we saw Mr Crouch coming out of the forest —"

"Where are they?" Dumbledore looked blindly in the darkness.

"Over here," Harry guided them to the edge of the forest. He called out for Viktor, but no one answered. "They were here... They were definitely somewhere around here..."

He sounded worried and scared, Mel got closer as Dumbledore conjured light from his wand and looked around. There was a body there. Mel stopped breathing for a moment while Harry and Dumbledore reached forward to check on Krum.

"Stunned," Dumbledore said simply.

"Should I go and get someone? Madam Pomfrey?"

"No," Dumbledore turned to look at her and said. "Stay here. Wake him up."

He pointed it in the direction of Hagrid's cabin with his wand. The faint shape of a phoenix made its way through the air as Mel kneeled next to Krum and whispered 'Rennervate'. Krum tried to sit up, but Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder to keep him on the grass.

"He attacked me! The old madman attacked me! I vos looking around to see vare Potter had gone and he attacked from behind!"

"Lie still for a moment," Dumbledore ordered gently.

Hagrid appeared, carrying his crossbow.

"Professor Dumbledore! Mel! Harry — what the — ?"

"Hagrid, I need you to fetch Professor Karkaroff. His student has been attacked. When you've done that, kindly alert Professor Moody —"

"No need, Dumbledore," said a voice from behind them. "I'm here. Damn leg! Would've been here quicker... what's happened? Snape said something about Crouch —"

"Crouch?"

"Karkaroff, please, Hagrid!" Dumbledore repeated.

"Oh yeah... right y'are, Professor..."

"I don't know where Barty Crouch is," Dumbledore told Moody, "but it is essential that we find him."

"I'm onto it," Moody headed off into the forest.

Mel stayed next to Krum and checked the back of his head for injuries, fortunately, he was completely fine, just a little dizzy from the fall.

"What is this?" Karkaroff walked up to them, his eyes blazing with anger. "What's going on?"

"I vos attacked!" said Krum. "Mr Crouch or votever his name —"

"Crouch attacked you? Crouch attacked you? The Triwizard judge?"

"Igor..."

"Treachery! It is a plot! You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me here under false pretenses, Dumbledore! This is not an equal competition! First you sneak Potter into the tournament, though he is underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put my champion out of action! I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Dumbledore, you, with your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old differences — here's what I think of you!"

Karkaroff spat onto the ground at Dumbledore's feet. In one swift movement, Hagrid seized the front of Karkaroff's furs, lifted him into the air, and slammed him against a nearby tree.

"Apologize!" Hagrid snarled as Karkaroff gasped for breath, Hagrid's massive fist at his throat, his feet dangling in midair.

"Hagrid, no!" Dumbledore shouted, his eyes flashing.

Hagrid removed the hand pinning Karkaroff to the tree, and Karkaroff slid all the way down the trunk and slumped in a huddle at its roots; a few twigs and leaves showered down upon his head.

"Kindly escort Harry and Mel back up to the castle, Hagrid," Dumbledore told him sternly.

"Maybe I'd better stay here, Headmaster..." Hagrid said, glaring at Karkaroff.

"You will take them back to school, Hagrid. Take them right up to Gryffindor Tower. And I want you two to stay there. Anything you might want to do — any owls you might want to send — they can wait until morning, do you understand me?"

"Er — yes," said Harry, staring at him.

Mel felt a bit of a chill run up her spine at the idea that her uncle could read their thoughts. Because she was certain that Harry had been planning to write Sirius about this.

"Very well," Dumbledore looked directly at her then. "You did a good job watching after Mr Krum, Mel. Now watch after yourself." She nodded, too shocked to speak against him, her nerves completely messed up after that experience.

"I'll leave Fang with yeh, Headmaster," Hagrid said. "Stay, Fang. C'mon, kids."

After a while walking in silence, Hagrid spoke up again.

"How dare he accuse Dumbledore. Like Dumbledore'd do anythin' like that. Like Dumbledore wanted you in the tournament in the firs' place. Worried! I dunno when I seen Dumbledore more worried than he's bin lately. An' you!" He turned to them angrily, they stepped back in surprise, Mel holding tightly onto Harry. "What were yeh doin', wanderin' off with ruddy Krum? He's from Durmstrang, Harry! Coulda jinxed yeh right there, couldn' he? Hasn' Moody taught yeh nothin'? 'Magine lettin' him lure yeh off on yer own —"

"Krum's all right!" He exclaimed. "He wasn't trying to jinx me, he just wanted to talk about Hermione —"

"I'll be havin' a few words with her, an' all," said Hagrid not listening. "The less you lot 'ave ter do with these foreigners, the happier yeh'll be. Yeh can' trust any of 'em."

"You were getting on all right with Madame Maxime," Harry said in a bad mood.

"Don' you talk ter me abou' her!" Hagrid yelled. When he saw the look on their faces, he lowered his voice. "I've got her number now! Tryin' ter get back in me good books, tryin' ter get me ter tell her what's comin' in the third task. Ha! You can' trust any of 'em!"

Harry and Mel shared a grim look without saying anything. He reached for the hand that was still firmly closed around his arm and held it, squeezing a bit to calm her down. It worked until they reached the tower, where Hagrid finally left them safe and sound. As soon as they were in Harry dragged her to where Ron and Hermione were sitting.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha​ @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere​ @t-rexs-world

[darks-ink]

Rewind - Ectoberweek 2020

Acknowledging canon episodes? In my fanfic? It’s more likely than you think. Also I’m experimenting by adding the links onto this post so lemme know whether this shows up in the tag or not.

Rating: Gen Warnings: - Genre: Hurt/Comfort Words: 2,834 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Masters of All Time, Families of choice/Found family

[AO3] [FFN]

---

“What do you mean, you can’t?” Danny darted around Clockwork, refusing to let him turn away. “Clockwork!”

The ghost sighed, heavily and wearily, and looked down at Danny. “I cannot. It is that simple.”

“But that’s— that’s nonsense,” Danny insisted, gesturing wildly. “You’re the ghost of time! How can you not rewind this and fix it?!”

“I warned you, Daniel, that this would be a permanent change.” Clockwork blinked slowly, as if trying to convey some sort of emotion with his empty red eyes. “You did not heed my warning, or considered yourself above it. Now, you must live with the consequences.”

“But you’re—”

“Not all-powerful, no matter what you might think,” Clockwork cut in, narrowing his eyes. “You have altered the past, despite my warning not to. To travel back again would risk the stability of the timeline entirely. Would you rather see all of reality destroyed?”

Clockwork hummed before Danny could answer. “I would not, therefore I will not allow it to be so. The past has been set in stone, but the future is still malleable. Make it into something you can live with.”

“But…” Danny bit back his automatic response. There was no point. He’d tried fighting Clockwork before, and gotten his ass handed to him as a result. He sighed instead. “Can you at least take me back to Mom and Dad, then? The Portal looked like it blew up after I flew through it, and I don’t know where to find another.”

At that, Clockwork smiled. Or, Danny though it was a smile, at least. A small twitch of the ghost’s lips. “That, I can do.”

“Thanks, Clockwork.” Danny watched as the ghost swung his staff, a portal opening in its wake. “And… sorry, I guess.”

“Apology accepted.” Clockwork floated aside, waving a hand towards the portal. “Goodbye, Daniel.”

Danny nodded back, before flying through the portal. Welp. Time to face the music.

The portal spat him out in Amity Park, near his house. For a moment, Danny paused, considering the possibility that it brought him here because he consider Amity to be his home, no matter what. But then he realized that there was a car parked in front of the garage, one far too fancy for the neighborhood. His parents must’ve come this way, taking one of Vlad’s cars.

Thus satisfied, he flew down, phasing through the front door. No need to be secretive—both Jack and Maddie knew his secret already.

Still, he was surprised to find them both in the living room, apparently trying to clean up the place. Maddie saw him first, her body stilling. And how strange was it, that he found it comforting to see her here, in her cyan jumpsuit, with red goggles over her eyes? (That was weird, right? Danny felt like it should be weird.)

“Danny,” she said, quiet with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

At her words, Jack also looked up from where he was standing. He, too, looked almost exactly like his counterpart from Danny’s own timeline. Except with ecto-acne, of course.

“I, uh.” Danny shrugged, unsure. He felt thrown off by seeing his parents like this. It was almost right, but just slightly off. “Clockwork couldn’t undo it. Apparently the timeline is too unstable, or something. So I have to… stay in this world, I guess.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” She straightened up from her crouch, walking closer to him. “I— It probably won’t be easy, but you can stay with us for as long as you need to. Right, Jack?”

“Of course!” his dad immediately responded, nodding vigorously. “We’re… figuring stuff out, of course. But it’s thanks to you that we reunited in the first place. And you’re our kid!” He grinned, wide and loving, in that typical Jack Fenton way. “Even if the way you got here is a little weird, you’re still our family!”

“I…” He landed, noiselessly. Hesitated for a moment. Then closed the space between him and Maddie, wrapping his arms around her. “Thanks. Both of you. I’m sorry.”

The enormous warm arms of Jack Fenton came up around them. “Don’t be, kiddo. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he rumbled, underlined with an almost audible buzz of his core. It emitted a palpable feeling of family.

“No, but, I…” Danny sighed, crushing his head against Maddie’s shoulder. “It’s my fault. All of this is! I tried going back in time to change the past, to make it so Vlad wouldn’t get ecto-acne so he couldn’t infect my friends with it, but instead you became half-ghost.”

Danny drew a shaky breath, trying to fight past the emotions welling in his throat. They needed to understand. “It’s all my fault! Without my meddling, none of this would’ve happened!”

“Sounds to me,” his mom began, her thin fingers gently combing through his hair, “like you tried to help your friends, Danny.” She clicked her tongue. “Maybe not in the best way possible, but the intention was good.”

“I can’t imagine that Vlad would’ve dealt with being half-ghost much better than I,” Jack added, faint laughter in his voice. “Never mind the ecto-acne. But, of course! That’s how you recognized it!”

“Yeah, um.” Danny drew back from the hug a little. “I can… tell you guys, I guess? About my timeline. The differences, at least.”

“That’d be nice,” Maddie agreed, as Jack’s arms released them. She looked around, and Danny could read the reluctance in her body language, even despite the goggles. “We might have to clear some more stuff before we have the space to sit.”

“We could always sit on the floor?” Jack suggested, shrugging at her look. “Or Danny and I can float as ghosts.”

“Right.” Maddie shook her head, wandering over to the single chair not covered in debris and trash and reaching up to her hood. “If that works for you two, that might be the most convenient.” She paused, frowning at Danny, hood pulled off but still in hand. “But… if Vlad was the one who became half-ghost in your timeline, why are you half-ghost as well, Danny?”

“I, uh.” He shrugged, lifting his feet off of the ground to sit in mid-air. “Became half-ghost in an accident of my own.”

The frown he received from both parents very clearly asked for him to elaborate, so he did. “Okay, so. The point of divergence is the accident in college, obviously. In my timeline, Vlad got hit by the explosion, not Jack, so he becomes half-ghost and stuff. You two, Jack and Maddie, get together, especially since Vlad was cutting contact. You decide to become ghost researchers together and move to Amity Park.”

He paused to gesture to the house around them. “Specifically, you move here, to this specific house. You make it your place of business as well, called FentonWorks. Big neon sign on the front of the building, the basement downstairs becomes a lab, and at some point you two built the Ops Center at the top, which can also be used for inventing stuff. I’m… obviously not very informed of the details, since I was the second kid and you two talked very little about the past. Only,” here he made a face, “ghosts. Everything was always about ghosts.

“Anyway,” he continued, after a short pause to take a breath. “You two have Jazz first, and then me two years later. At some point after that, you start working on a new Portal, full scale, down in the lab. It takes forever to build, because you’re trying to be careful about it, I guess? But you finish it, eventually, when Jazz is sixteen and I fourteen.”

Maddie narrowed her eyes, darting them over his body. The question is clear as day: isn’t he basically fourteen?

“So,” Danny trumped on, ignoring the silent question, “After years of work, their Portal was finally finished! The ultimate proof that ghosts were real! And then it didn’t turn on.”

“It didn’t?” Jack gasped, clearly startled. Danny realized that, somehow, he’d missed the man shifting into his ghost form. “But—”

“It didn’t,” Danny interrupted, holding up a hand. “Because apparently, someone had built a secondary power switch inside the Portal, and they had forgotten to turn it on. So when they plugged in the power, the Portal didn’t turn on.”

There was clear calculation in the eyes of both of his parents, now. Danny continued his explanation before they could figure it out. Needed to tell his story to his parents, for once. He didn’t think he would ever get a chance to tell his actual parents, after all.

“Later that day, after Jazz convinced you two to take a break, my friends talked me into checking out the Portal. Just the three of us, since Tucker was interested in technology and Sam was interested in all things goth and occult.” He shrugged, almost fatalistically. “Sam suggested I take a closer look, and I did. Only, I didn’t realize that the power was still plugged in, so when I accidentally hit the power switch inside…”

“Oh!” Maddie gasped. “Oh, how terrible!”

“That must’ve hurt like hell,” Jack agreed, a painful grimace on his face. It looked strange, the genuine emotional expression with the blue skin, the pointed fangs poking out of his mouth. “Your parents must’ve felt awful, to know that they put their kid in such danger!”

“Well…” Danny made a face. “They kinda… didn’t know? They were both avid ghost hunters, both full of hate towards ghosts. I considered telling them, at first, but then they saw their first ghosts and…” Danny sighed. “I guess I was just scared that I’d be just a ghost to them. That they wouldn’t believe me.”

“That’s… That’s awful.” Jack floated over to nudge Danny. “Kiddo, if your dad was anything like me, I promise you, he would’ve cared.”

“I know.” Danny shook his head dismissively. “I know. That wasn’t why I was worried. I was afraid that they wouldn’t believe that I was me, that I was their son. That they would think that I had hurt or replaced their own kid.”

Maddie touched his shoulder, and Danny jerked, surprised. When had she stood up? Walked over? “Well… At least it is of no concern anymore, right? You’re here now, with us, and we believe you.”

It felt like something had crawled into his gut and died. “Yeah,” he said, with terribly faked enthusiasm. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s not much of a comfort, is it?” Maddie made a face. “I’m sorry. I guess I have very little parenting experience, compared to your actual mother.”

“Honestly?” He snorted. “It makes very little difference. Like I said, she and Dad spent most of the time in the lab, or otherwise occupied with ghost research.”

Maddie clicked her tongue, distaste clear on her face. “Well, isn’t that a waste. They have such a lovely son, and they don’t even enjoy his presence?”

“Well, y’know.” Danny shrugged, trying to ignore the pleased whirring of his core. “They try, now, but with all the ghosts we’re all kinda distracted. Them with trying to catch some for their research, and I with trying to protect the townspeople from the ghosts.”

Jack’s expression visibly brightened—as did the glow around his body. “You’re a ghost hunter! A ghost-fighting superhero! Just like I tried to be!”

“Uh.” Danny felt his brain skip over, then remembered. Somewhere in the blathering when he first arrived, Jack had mentioned that he’d tried using his powers for good. “Yeah, I guess so. But I had a little more success with it.” He grinned sheepishly.

“We should team up!” Jack exclaimed, wrapping an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “The two of us, and Maddie, if she wants to! We’d be a fantastic team!”

Danny laughed, a little uncertain. “Well, maybe. But we’ll need a Thermos to catch the ghosts, and a Portal to dump them back into the Ghost Zone, first. Those were kind of my major tools in managing. And Sam and Tucker, of course.”

“Oh?” Maddie asked, perking up. “Sam and Tucker? You mentioned them before, I think. Are those your friends?”

“Yeah, they… I guess they don’t know me, here.” He sighed, feeling himself drift down closer to the floor, away from his dad’s arm. “They… We were best friends, to the absolute end. Even after the stuff in the lab, the half-ghost stuff, the constant attacking ghosts and hunting them down, they stuck by my side.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo.” Jack landed as well, although unlike Danny, he landed on his feet. “But they’ll be around, right? It might not be the same, but they’re not gone.”

“Might as well be,” Danny huffed. He shook his head. “It won’t be the same. Without the years of shared experiences…”

Maddie and Jack shared a look—not quite as conversational as the ones his parents shared, but a good enough substitute—before apparently deciding to change the topic altogether.

“Why don’t we see if we can clear some rooms upstairs?” Maddie asked, clapping her hands together. “We’ll need at least two rooms clear enough for use, preferably three.”

“Three?” Danny echoed, frowning at them. “You’re not sharing?”

“We haven’t seen each other in years, Danny,” she pointed out, getting up from the chair. “We’re still reconnecting, never mind actually getting together.”

“Right,” he agreed, following her to the stairs. “But you are moving in?”

“Friends can share a house,” Jack pointed out, shifting back to his human form in a flash of white light, and reminding Danny to do the same. “And this way she won’t have to worry about getting kicked out of Vlad’s mansion while all the paperwork and stuff is happening.”

“And I never liked the mansion much,” Maddie admitted with a wry smile. “I liked the Vlad I knew, way back when, but over time it became clear that that wasn’t the real Vlad. I’d been thinking about divorcing him for longer, but… I don’t know. There was no one else I knew, nowhere I could go.”

“Not even to Aunt Alicia? I mean, she’s divorced as well, isn’t she?”

“I… didn’t realize she had married in the first place.” Maddie’s steps faltered for a moment before she continued up the stairs. “I guess I was afraid that she would judge me for marrying Vlad in the first place. I don’t know… It seems rather illogical, now, but I figured I could put up with Vlad well enough. And with his money I could afford my research, even if I had to do it behind his back.”

They stopped in the hallway upstairs, looking around. Danny resisted the urge to grimace. Somehow upstairs was even more of a mess than downstairs had been.

“Which room was yours, in your timeline?” Jack asked, sidling up to Danny.

“Uh.” He carefully stepped past the mess, stopping in front of his door. Or the door that belonged to the room that was his, in his own timeline. “This one. And Jazz had that one,” he pointed over to the room that his sister used. “The one next to mine was a guest room.”

Jack nodded. “Right, that makes sense! You can take that room if you want, Danny. Mads, you can take the other room if you want. The one next to here I used as a lab for a while, so cleaning…”

“Won’t be easy, got it.” She nodded as well. “I’ll take the other one. Let’s start with clearing out this one, shall we?”

“Let’s.” Danny pushed open the door, bracing himself mentally for the whiplash of seeing his room without it being his room.

As a result, he was almost toppled over by the cat that rushed past his legs.

“Jasmine!” Jack cheered, crouching down to pick up the fluffy white thing. “Is this where you’ve been hiding, honey?”

“Well,” Danny said, then stopped. He had no clue what to say. He didn’t even know what he thought of this.

“Well,” he tried again. “At least now I know who picked the name for Jazz, and who picked mine.”

Maddie snorted, gently pushing him into the room. “Personally, I think Danny is a great name, honey.”

“Thanks,” he retorted, eyes darting over the room. It was dark—the curtains were closed despite the time of day—but his night vision was pretty solid. “It’s short for Daniel.”

“And Jazz for Jasmine, then? That’s cute.” She ruffled his hair as she stepped past him, drawing open the curtains. “Hm. we certainly have our work cut out for us.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed, looking at the piles of he-didn’t-know-what lying around. There was a bed buried in one of the piles, which suggested it might’ve been a guest room at some point. Or used by someone else, before Jack moved in. “And we still need to clear yours, too.”

“Better get working then,” Maddie decided, shaking her head as she crouched down. “Things won’t get better on their own, after all.”

[doof-doofblog]

"You Come Near My Wife Again, I'll Kill You!"

Thursday 18th February 2021

Hello again everyone! How are we all? After this post I will finally be up to date, I apologise how long it's taken me, but I'm happy to be able to catch up and review Thursday's episode!

Wow!!! This was episode was absolutely brilliant, everyone was kind of involved with each other in one way or another, it was as if everything and everyone entwined to get to this big moment! The first thing I'm going to focus on is Martin, Kush, Ruby and Stacey! After Iqra dropped the bombshell on Martin, informing him that Ruby was the brains behind the robbery at the Minute Mart, causing him to get attacked, he approaches his best friend, Kush, asking for his opinion and his advice. Could Ruby really be to blame? I guess it's understandable for Martin to find it hard to believe that his new wife could be to blame, however we and of course Kush knows more about Ruby than he's letting on. Kush suggests that Martin should just ask his new wife straight out, but Martin fears that if he was wrong, things will go down the path of another divorce and a broken family. (Although, when he finds out the truth, it's going to come to that anyway, right?) He tries his absolute best to convince himself that Iqra had got her facts wrong.

However, Kush only knows too well what Ruby is capable of. In need of searching for some more advice, Kush leans on Stacey, informing her about what Martin has revealed to him. But the most interesting thing is that Kush finally reveals to her that Ruby actually gave him money to run away with Arthur. Stacey, at first, can't seem to understand why Ruby would want to mess with her family and take away her child, but eventually it all makes sense! Ruby is jealous of Stacey's past with Martin and is desperate to have him all to herself! But she's done some really terrible things to get what she wants, even paying someone to attack Stacey in the streets! Stacey even suspects that Ruby could even be lying about being pregnant, as there still hasn't been any physical evidence of a pregnancy. So, instead of Kush having to worry about breaking up his friend's marriage, Stacey is adamant that she's going to reveal all of Ruby's lies to Martin and make him see what kind of person he's married!

As Martin returns to see his wife at work, she drops a huge hint that she has taken the afternoon off so they could have some "Fun" together, seductively wiping the paper off of her office desk. But unfortunately for Ruby, it's clear to see that Martin clearly isn't interested in getting intimate with his wife, especially after the accusations he's heard about her. Ruby can't seem to understand his reluctance, but he simply states that he's not in the mood. It seems as if every time Ruby has some alone time with her husband, she's wanting to get intimate, is this truly some kind of pregnancy hormone she has or, as we've been speculating, is she really not pregnant and is desperate to make her lie become the truth?!

--

Okay so this is where things are going to get interesting, before we delve into the fiasco regarding Phil, Max, and Mick, I just want to mention the little friendship blossoming between Sharon and Jean! I absolutely love it! I don't think we've ever seen these two be so pally, but it looks as if Jean has actually been there for Sharon, giving her advice on Phil. At first, she claimed that she believed that Sharon and Phil belonged together, almost getting Sharon's hope up that she might be able to rekindle her romance with him. However, when that didn't go to plan, Jean was there to once again be a friend and state to Sharon that she is a Queen and she could have any man she wanted, although there doesn't seem to be anyone else she's interested in. So, to cheer her up, Jean suggests having some chocolate - of course, chocolate always makes people happy! But when the go to the Minute Mart, Jean realises she's only 20p short and Suki is unwilling to let it slide, even though they offer to give it to her another time. As Jean looks visibly upset to leave the chocolate behind, Sharon quickly suggest that they be like Thelma and Louisa and nick the chocolate, stuffing the goodies up their tops! I just love how they both act like giggly school girls together, causing trouble. Not that I condone shop-lifting, but I just loved this moment between Jean and Sharon, I hope this won't just be a brief friendship, I do hope that this friendship blossoms and becomes something solid, what do you guys think?

Unfortunately, it looks as if Sharon's romance with Phil may have fizzled out and in Phil's eyes, be over. Phil seems to be enjoying some steamy time with Kat, what do you guys make of this pairing? I mean, it wasn't too long ago they were at each other's necks about money regarding their robbery attempt, now they're sleeping together! Crazy?! But as much as it appears to be a bit of fun right now, do you think it may lead to something more serious? After spending another night with Kat, he seems to realise that his deadline for Max is slowly coming to an end. Knowing that it's going to be difficult to get Sharon to sign the papers over, he takes a visit to Max, informing that he needs more time. But Max is having none of it and warns that if the Queen Vic papers aren't signed over to the Carter's by the end of the day, he will take the memory stick he has of all Phil's criminal history to the police!

--

Before his confrontation with Phil, Max was on the street of Walford, of course he was looking for Linda, but he ended up bumping into Stacey. I have to mention this brief interaction, as Stacey states that it had been 11 years since Bradley's death! I can't even begin to believe it's been that long the soap has been without Bradley, I have to be honest though, it makes me happy that still after all this time, they still mention his name. He hasn't been forgotten! There are some deaths that you do forget about, but the likes of Pat, Peggy, Ronnie, Roxy, Danielle, Barry, Jamie - you just don't forget and Bradley is one of them too! I also loved the fact that after all this time, Stacey still holds a photograph of him in her purse. I don't know about you guys but I feel that Bradley will always be her one true love! She questions whether Max had remembered the day, but admits he tries not to think about it as it hurts too much. It's then he clocks Linda and hurries to catch her, he claims that he understands why she chose Mick over him to which she is a little confused, but he informs her that he actually knows the full reason why. To her shock, Linda is absolutely devastated and is desperate to know how he found out the truth about Mick, Max admits he found out through Jack.

Now this is the biggest mistake he could've done! Informing Linda the truth, Jack arrives back at the house after Max has had his confrontation with Phil. Jack informs him that he knows that Max has spoken to Linda, because it's all turned back on him. Linda went to the police station and complained and now it's caused Jack to be suspended and potentially lose his job! Because of Max's selfish acts once again, he's put his brother's job in jeopardy! In an attempt to try and do the right thing, Jack decides to apologise to Mick, even though he's completely unaware that they know about his past. But this is where it all kicks off! Jack fully admits that he told Max about Mick's past, but the only reason Jack found out was plainly innocent, seeing him at the police station. This information get's a bit too much for Mick and he knows he has to confront Max once and for all!

--

Whilst all this happening, Phil takes it upon himself to visit Sharon at the Vic. He informs her that she basically has no choice in selling the Vic over to the Carter's. As much as it hurts her and she's adamant she doesn't want to leave, Phil questions whether she is really really happy living there, I guess you could say it is emotional blackmail, but Phil is desperate to get himself out of trouble. He asks her if she had any feeling left for him, he would do as he's asking, otherwise he's going to end up in prison! Phil informs her that Max has something dirty on him and if he was to hand it into the police, not just Phil, but possibly Sharon would be done for! He promises that even if the Vic gets back into the Carter's hands, he'll make sure Sharon is looked after and provided for.  

Finally it all comes to this point as everyone gathers in the Vic, Max walks in waiting to hear news from Phil, eventually Phil comes down and informs him that they have a deal, Sharon is willing to sign the Queen Vic over back to Mick and Linda. In exchange, Max willingly hands over the memory stick. However, Max's smug face doesn't last for long as Mick and Linda both enter the Vic and approach him. Max acknowledges them and informs them that he has good news, but Mick isn't interested in hearing it. He warns Max just simply stay away from his wife. But Max just doesn't seem to listen does he? He kind of oversteps the mark here, he claims the only reason why Linda is still with him, is out of pity! Mick only responds by giving Max a good punch in the face, making him fly across the room and collapsing in a booth! I also have to state I don't condone violence, but Max had it coming really didn't he?!

Overall a brilliant episode, I loved how everything linked and came together! Brilliant script writing and amazing performances from everyone involved. Jake Wood, Danny Dyer, Steve McFadden, Scott Maslen - everyone! I apologise for this post being late, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! I'll be back again tomorrow following Friday's episode! Enjoy the rest of your day folks! Love you all xXx

[a-simple-imagine]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Requested by anonymous: “Could I request a Dan x female!reader that’s full of a bunch of cuddles and softness and Dan being so happy because he’s finally in a stable relationship with someone he loves”

Pairing: Danny Torrance x fem!reader

Words: 1.7k

A/N - kinda sad that doctor sleep isn’t in cinemas here anymore... I miss my baby rose

An empty bed always feels worse when you’re left wondering if he's ducked out. It wouldn't bother you normally. Not every relationship was meant to be but this time was different and not to mention this was definitely more than a one night stand or a fling. You thought you actually had something; He made you happy and you thought you did the same for him. You toss over in bed staring out the door you could have sworn you closed; last line or security after all. He must have left it open. You sigh to yourself As you let your eyes flutter closed.

"How are you still tired?" You groan at the question burying your face further into the pillow. "Never met someone who can sleep so much."

Looking up, you spy none other than Dan Torrance leaning against the doorframe in a pair of grey boxers. A smile on his lips; a tray held comfortably between his hands. You were glad he was still here.

"You wore me out," You joke, a lazy smile spreading over your lips. "For a second I thought you had run out on me... again."

"Are you still hung up on that," Dan walked into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed and placing the tray beside you. Glancing towards the tray, it holds a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in the middle. A glass of orange juice to the right. A bottle of syrup to the left.

"It was a one-time thing- promise, I even made you breakfast in bed to make up for it."

"Oooh look at you," you tease, pushing yourself upright so you back was against the headboard. "Thank you."

He kicks his legs up onto the bed, getting comfortable beside you. Taking the tray, you place it in your lip, picking up the cutlery that had slid out from under the side of the plate. "What do you want to do today?" He asks as the blade cuts through the surface of the fluffy pancake. You shrug, offering him the piece. He leans in to take but not before you can pull it just out of reach. An amused smile on your lips as you hold it out for him again. He's cautious but takes it into his mouth.

"Honestly? Sleep," You suggest, cutting a piece for yourself.

"I figured you'd say that," he started, placing his hand on your leg which was covered by the duvet. "But- and hear me out here. How about we- I don't know, go outside?" You glance to him briefly before turning back to your food. "We could have lunch, maybe watch a movie?"

"Or," you drag the word out for emphasis. "We could stay in bed and order in food. Plenty of viable movie options on Netflix."

The man just shakes his head. "How about we go out for lunch and then return, much later, to watch a movie. Cuddling could be on the table but only if we take a walk after said lunch."

"But it's so cold outside." You groan but it's mixed with a chuckle. He was determined to get you out of bed and so you decide to compromise. It's only fair. "How about we go for a reasonable length walk, then takeaway and movie back here? Final offer- take it or leave it, babe."

You watch him contemplate the offer. "Fine," he nods once. "It's a deal."

You hold your hand out which he gladly shakes. "Pleasure doing business with you, Torrance."

You finish your breakfast relatively slowly in hopes of putting off going for a walk. It's past one by the time you're finally ready to leave the house. Dan still insists it will be 'fun' and you don't question it. You could do with the fresh air; you have nothing against walking it's just when winter comes around you're reluctant to face the icy tundra. Wrapped up in the winter coat you bought no more than two weeks ago, a matching hat, gloves, and scarf set you're ushered out of your apartment. You let Dan decide where to go, which isn't far. There is a park fifteen minutes from your building. It's not all that big so it doesn't get mass amounts of visitors but it's kept fairly tidy and in the summer, there's a little local fair with games and food. But it wasn't summer so the park was pretty much empty except for the odd dog walker who probably wouldn't be out here if it weren't for the dog. You're kind of glad for the dogs though, they're adorable and make the park worth the trip. Dan squeezes you're gloved hand almost every time you spot another dog which brightens your smile. But none of its enough to make you forget just how cold you are. The man beside you puts on a brave face, insisting alongside every groan that it isn't that cold but you know he's lying. You can tell by the pink of his cheeks and ears. It takes a lot of nagging for him to finally submit, practically dragging him all the way back and through the door into your only slightly less cold living room. You tried to keep your use of the heating to a minimum; money doesn't grow on trees but right now was an emergency.

"I've never been so cold in my life" You shiver as you strip of your gloves, scarf and hat. Throwing them into the bowl you keep by the door where you like to keep your keys; when you actually remember to use it that is.

"What should we do for dinner?" Dan asks ignoring your cold comment. "Chinese?"

"Pizza." You reply; fiddling with the buttons to switch on the heating. It'd take a while to get comfortably warm. Shitty radiators.

"Pizza it is. I'm gonna run to the store first."

"Aye aye captain." You give him a three-fingered but lazy salute.

"Do you want anything?" You think about it for a second before shrugging. Dan disappears back out into the cold. Slipping into the bedroom, trading your clothes for sweats, you dive into bed. Drowning yourself in the warmth of the duvet. Pulling out your phone to waste the time. When he returns you're two lives deep into candy crush.

"Thought you were putting in a movie." He comments as you swipe on the screen. Matching the colourful candy in a line of three.

"Oops,"

"You're not gonna leave that bed again are you?" You glance to him from the comfort of your duvet cocoon, shaking your head a little. "Not unless I have to." You flash a bright smile. Bracing the cold, you remove your arm to pay the space next to you. It had warmed up a little but just a little. He makes sure to grab the remotes before climbing under the covers. Placing them ever so carefully into your lap.

"What should we watch?"

"Something... Christmasy maybe? Elf." You lock your phone and shuffle a little closer to the man.

"A little early for Christmas, don't you think?"

"Never." You insist, laying your head against him. He doesn't argue, putting on the movie you requested. Settled in, he puts his arms around you. Holding you close. The pizza is ordered shortly after thanks to the rumble of your stomach; you paid but Dan is the one to get up when it arrives at the door. The pizza doesn't last all that long nor do the wedges they came alongside it. That was to be expected.

With the pizza box pushed to the side and something mindless now playing in the background, you're rested comfortably against his chest as he runs his hand through your hair; gentle to the touch. "What's on your mind?"

He stops his motion for a moment before continuing. "Nothing really,"

You nudge him softly. "Tell me."

"Just thinking about you."

"All good things I hope."

"Well..."

"Hey," you huff. Dan chuckles lightly, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

"Nothing bad I swear. You're just a very happy presence and I'm grateful for that."

You glance up at him but he seems to be in a world all his own. This happened more often than not. When you first started seeing him, Dan had explained about his 'shine' as part of his total honesty rule. You took his words with a grain of salt, somethings were to be believed others seemed utterly impossible. For the most part, you don't bring it up unless he does. It's hard to gauge how he feels about the shinning as a whole so you don't want to upset him by bringing it up all the time. There were things he hadn't told you and that was fine too;  they were probably things you didn't want to know anyway. “Please don't tell me there are ghosts in here, not sure I could handle the stress."

"No, it's nothing like that." He reassures you. "Stop worrying."

"I constantly worry about you, you're like a McDonald's for spirits." You joke playfully, hoping he saw the funny side.

"Let's not." His voice is firm but in no way aggressive so you just let it go. Spinning around so your body was facing him, you wrap your arms tightly around the man.

"You know what I want?" You mumble against his chest.

"Ice cream." He didn't pose it as a question but a fact and he was right.

"How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess." He shrugs and you feel his whole body move in your grip. "Good thing I bought some earlier."

"You're too good to me. Cookie dough?"

"Obviously." You pull back and briefly connect your lips.

"I'll go get it since you've been so nice today."

You slip out of bed to collect the pint of ice cream in question. The apartment is considerably warmer now as you saunter over to the tiny freezer above your fridge. Grabbing two spoons, you return to the comfort of your bed. Handing the boyfriend a spoon as you settle in again. Dan Torrance was an unexpected but interesting addition to your life. He was all kinds of weird but that was what you liked about him. He was so unapologetically himself.

[kevintor]

I Watch a Movie I Should Have Seen: Hocus Pocus

I miss doing these entries. Mostly I miss adding movies to my watched list. Obviously, I’ve never seen Hocus Pocus. That’s why we’re here.

What did I know about Hocus Pocus? I knew there were witches and I knew Bette Midler had fun teeth. And she certainly did!

My thoughts:

We open on Salem in the 1600s following the shadow of a flying witch. The music was straight out of the Danny Elfman playbook but I guess they couldn’t get him so they found an equivalent Ray Parker, Jr. to Elfman’s Huey Lewis. (If you don’t know)

Pink smoke comes out of the chimney of the witch house which means someone’s gender reveal party resulted in a girl! Unfortunately they had to sacrifice a different little girl to find out.

The old-timey boy we meet is wearing a shirt that can only be described as billowy. He should take off like a kite when he runs. Yet somehow when he violently tumbles down a forest hill, none of that very excessive fabric gets caught on anything. Is the fabric even there or are we imagining it?

The witches (Sanderson Sisters) use a book made of human skin and a functioning eyeball. I shall call this book “Columbo.”

It’s very nice of them to put a mill wheel next to the witch house for the boy to climb.

Okay, so Bette Midler has lightning fingers like Emperor Palpatine.

I honestly thought the witches were going to be misunderstood and everyone would win at the end but killing a little girl for her youth and turning the boy into an immortal cat really puts a big wrench in the redemption arc chances.

The townspeople stage a hanging. The witches curse the town that they will return much like Pennywise only scarier.

We fast forward to find out that the opening is a story that is told in a Salem high school class where the kids apparently range in age from 14-28.

A new-to-town California boy (Max) doesn’t buy into all the witch lore. No mention on why his first day of school is Halloween. Parents did not plan that move well.

Max is into Allison, the pretty girl in school that leads with her teeth in every conversation. Did Rami Malek pull some his Freddy Mercury from her?

Max rides his bike home from school at super speed. He is either an exceptional mountain biking improviser or he practiced it the day before to be really ready for school. Probably the latter.

On his shortcut through the cemetery, he runs into two kids, Jay and Ice. Jay seems to be all the bad parts of Bill and Ted combined and Ice seems to be 40.

Jay and Ice take Max’s sneakers because that’s what bullies in the early 90s did. It makes pedaling home slower which may be for the best. He rode his bike too quickly.

Max does not like being here in Salem anymore. We learn this as he angrily takes off his hat, backpack, and jacket.

Max comforts himself by awkwardly hugging and cooing to his pillow pretending it’s Allison. His little sister, Dani, catches the awkwardness, gets on the bed, and simulates being Allison which is normal.

The house appears to have an unlimited number of stairs to climb up to get away in frustration.

Max reluctantly takes his sister trick-or-treating. He has the appropriate level of older brother standoffishness.

Jay and Ice stop the sister asking for her candy. Max gives the candy to the bullies and she tells him he should have been a man and fought them. Again one of them is like 40.

Max makes up with her using a pouty face. Like! A! Man!

They find a rich house that they assume will make them bob for apples. This is a bad idea even in non-pandemic times. Never bob for apples at a stranger’s house. No matter how rich they are. That’s how rich people fatten you up to make you easier to hunt.

Max and Dani let themselves inside and start robbing the place of their Raisinets and O Henry bars. Rich people give out terrible candy.

Turns out the rich house belongs to Allison. They are having a party and everyone there is authentically dressed like royals. They did not get any of these costumes at Spirit Halloween.

Dani tells Allison that she can’t wear Allison’s royal dress because she doesn’t have yabbos and proceeds to tell her that Max loves her yabbos. This girl is outrageous. Or rude. It was a fine line in 1993.

Max asks Allison to take them to the Sanderson Sisters’ house. She tells him she’s going to quickly change out of a dress that must have taken her 45 minutes to get into.

The house is no different than it used to be. The spell book is still there. How have Jay and Ice not stolen anything from it?

Immortal Cat attacks Max when he wants to light the “virgin candle” that will bring back the Sanderson sisters. It’s a great sequence where he says the name of the movie (always important), then pulls a Zippo out of his pocket (which all kids who don’t smoke have), and lights the candle.

It starts things. Hair blows a lot. This is why they had Max be a surfer boy from California. For this hair effect.

This movie cares a lot about someone being a virgin. Even Dani knows what a virgin is. Are they covering this in her second grade class? Do the parents know? What does the PTA think?

The candle makes the Sisters return and they try to keep Dani. Bette Midler uses more of her Star Wars lightning fingers but Allison saves the day.

The cat can talk and the chances of me liking this movie just took a huge hit.

Max steals Columbo, the spell book.

The writers of the movie do the right thing by having the Sisters be scared of everything modern like roads and fire trucks. Nice touch.

The Sisters only have tonight, which adds the right amount of stakes, to get the spell book back. I don’t think I could make it if they had a week or so.

The Sisters raise the dead causing a very reluctant zombie (RZ) to chase after the kids. Most zombies love what they do so this is a fun choice.

Immortal Cat gets run over by a bus but lives because he’s immortal. We needed proof because the 300 years of being a cat was not enough.

Garry Marshall plays a guy dressed as the devil which they play for fun as the Sisters worship him but we can’t gloss over that fact that Fake Devil’s wife is played by his real-life sister, Penny Marshall. It’s not disturbing. They’re acting!

Children steal the Sisters’ brooms which probably won’t matter later.

They find a Halloween party that Max’s parents went to. When Max’s dad meets Allison, he kisses her hand. I am going to do the same to whoever my kid brings home one day. “It’s from Hocus Pocus. That movie’s fun. It’s not weird.”

Bette Midler gets to sing a song. That should satisfy the requirements from her contract. The song puts a spell on the partygoers forcing them to dance until they die. Somehow the kids are immune to it. Can they shut off their ears? Are they also magical?

The kids lure the Sisters into the school incinerator and burn them alive. It’s a strong play. The kids celebrate as if there is not 30 minutes left in the movie.

Immortal Cat, in a time of reflection, brings up his sister and Max says “You really miss her, huh?” He has been trapped as a cat after failing to save his sister’s life 300 years earlier. He misses her. Why not “Hey, do you ever wonder what might have happened if you saved her life?”

Without any explanation, the Sisters are fine. They run into Jay and Ice who insult them. The Sisters cage Jay and Ice and make them hang from the witch house ceiling. The bullies are crying. Maybe they aren’t so tough after all. <High Fives No One>

Allison decides to find a spell to uncat Immortal Cat. She opens Columbo causing it to glow. The glow lures Bette Midler and the Sisters to her. Allison fails to notice the glow but learns that salt can keep them safe.

The Sisters steal the book and Dani when Allison only uses the salt to protect herself. She really took care of number one here.

Now Sarah Jessica Parker gets to sing a real creepy song that summons all the children from the town. It really shows you the power of song. Again, Max and Allison must have turned off their hearing for this.

Max and Allison trick the Sisters into thinking sun is coming early by using a car headlight. It works but I don’t understand why. They had the sun 300 years ago. They know what it looks like. “Is that a person in a brown sweat suit and green hat or a tree?”

While the Sisters are scared of the car headlight, Max steals back his sneakers but doesn’t save the bullies. How does he know he won’t need the bullies to be on his side in the future? Has he not seen every other high school movie?

They drive away and Bette Midler brooms after them. We know how fast Max likes to go so it is impressive Bette Midler can keep up.

Reluctant Zombie shows up and Max pulls a knife on him. So Max has a knife and a zippo. He might be a problem.

They take the final showdown to a cemetery which is an odd choice. Why not a miniature golf course or a TCBY. Were they still around in 1993?

Max brings a bat to a magic fight. Allison still has her salt. “Bats and salt: Working together to inconvenience witches since 1881!”

Max sacrifices himself to save Dani. The sun comes up as Bette Midler is sucking the life out of Max. Just when you think it might be a better sun-impersonating headlight, Bette Midler turns into a statue and explodes. Definitely the sun.

Immortal Cat dies so he can be with his sister. Billowy shirt ghost appears to say thanks with a kiss on Dani’s cheek (so normal) before he runs off with his ghost sister for eternity.

They did it! They saved Salem! Quite a first day for Max..

The movie was fine. I hate talking animals unless they are cartoons so that didn’t help. And why did they care so much about virgins? A friend told me that “virgin” meant “pure of heart.” Well then they should have said “pure of heart.” And if I can suggest, between Max’s predilection for weapons and Allison’s selfishness with the salt, I don’t think they should stop being “pure of heart” with each other. They aren’t a good couple. Going through a traumatic thing like killing summoned witches from the Pilgrim days causes feelings that can’t last.

[nativehueofresolution]

i want your thoughts on doctorclara, the eleventh doctor, and i want you to rank the new who companions

doctorclara

when I started shipping it if I did: gather round the fire, lads. search back, if you will, to shortly after jlc was announced as the new companion. matt did an interview where he mentioned the relationship between the doctor and clara was different to the relationship between he and amy because the dynamic with clara was flirtatious and had some romantic tension. i had some mixed feelings about this - i was a little disappointed there was going to be another doctor/companion romance, as i felt this was played out  (i’ve since changed my mind on the doctor/companion romance thing quite a bit, as i think it’s really more of a fandom thing than an actual problem with the series but it was how i felt at the time and i digress). however, i was also rather tired of the doctor/river romance as i thought it was poorly handled in s6, and i was intrigued by the idea of seeing eleven in a new romance... but i really didn’t want there to be a love triangle as well. so with all those mixed up thoughts, i went into the snowmen. (asylum of the daleks din’t really make an impression on me until after i watched it again with the context of the clara echoes.) i thought they were pretty cute, but my reluctance to have another doctor/companion romance was still a thing. plus, i began to become more suspicious of how the doctor was treating clara like a mystery to be solved instead of a person, which seems rather manic pixie dream girl to me (it should be said, i don’t think it’s bad writing or marketing i felt this way... i don’t think you should be required to broadcast ahead of time you’re planning to subvert a trope when it appears you’re playing it straight initially. it does make me really sad that apparently a lot of people didn’t stick with enough to see the glorious payoff of the subversion though ). so i continued into the start of 7b with similar feelings of ‘cute but i’m not going to ship it because of x, y, z...’, but with each passing episode it became harder and harder to deny i was reeeeally into their dynamic  (in hindsight, it feels so goofy how i made it a Thing i wasn’t going to ship another doctor/companion romance and actively fought against liking it, but whatever, i was in high school and even more pretentious than i am now). the breaking point for me was ‘hide’. dear reader, i MELTED at ‘this isn’t a ghost story, it’s a love story’  (my otp tag for a reason!). it was a full-blown crisis. i knew i was here to stay. with each passing episode, matters escalated. it was the series 7 finale that made me realize i was watching one of the greatest love stories ever. i cannot stress enough how formative clara diving into the doctor’s timesteam was for me. the poetry, the tragedy, the romance. it was a revelation. it was only the tip of the iceberg for what was to come, as we now know, but those are the big turning points in my shipper journey w/ them.

my thoughts: the most epic love story we have ever seen in our mortal lives. somehow got better with every episode. i’m supposed to like other ships after seeing how romance can be done on this level? what a joke. two and a half billion years, y’all. two and a half billion years...

What makes me happy about them: the obvious cute stuff - the lack of personal space, the doctor acting like a schoolboy, clara playing it cool but really being just bad, the fake dating, the banter. from both of their point of view, the other was the one who pursued the relationship; eleven had clara coming onto his cloud, clara had eleven standing outside her window. that is seriously adorable.  but then, the deeper stuff like how clara knows him on a fundamental level no one else does. she knew the war doctor hadn’t used the moment yet when ten and eleven didn’t because she can just see him. the doctor makes himself vulnerable to her willingly, even with all the barriers he puts up every day of his life. he cries in front of her, he takes her hand, he shows her unconditional love even when she acts cruelly. she’s so afraid to lose control but when she does in the worst way, he lets her know that could never make a difference. she’s shaped his life in so many ways from being a voice his head to always being just out of sight watching his back. he listens to her and she changes his world, she saves his world. they are fundamental equals despite being so different. 

What makes me sad about them: two and a half BILLION years. you look at me and you can’t see me. twelve strumming his guitar while clara goes into her tardis. clara whispering please don’t change and trying to take his hand. but he never sees me... almost never. will you come away with me. if you love me in any way, you’ll come back. she might meet someone she can’t bear to lose. clara, my clara. we’ve already had enough bad timing. stay with me... nah. let me save you. secrets keep us safe--we aren’t SAFE. people like you and me, we should say things to one another. listen, i could go all night. 

things done in fanfic that annoys me: i don’t know there’s a specific pattern that jumps out? there are definitely times i’m like this is a mess but i don’t know there’s a clear trend that jumps out. back when s12 started there were fics that made the doctor more dark and dominant than he was, but thankfully those died out as his character developed more. i would definitely say denying or undercutting danny’s significance to clara is an issue, although unfortunately it isn’t limited to whouffle fic. but clara would not be who she is if she didn’t know and love danny pink, and that is important. 

things I look for in fanfic: it can vary quite a bit depending on my mood. they are the entire spectrum of my romance likes lol.  i love the angst of clara’s echoes and the possible implications of that, series 7b attraction/mistrust, series 8 pining, and all that good old fashioned memory erasing fallout. i also love domestic fluff and fix its where they end up together again or the doctor finds out about clara being the voice from his youth. i love seeing different doctors w clara, i love post episode fics where they just react to everything they went through with one another. i’m versatile!

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: to me, they are like the definition of soulmates. i can and do ship them with other people, but for me it will always be the doctor for clara and clara for the doctor at the end. ‘ending up with’ is sort of a loose concept given they’re both close to immortal. i think they will both live and love with other people, just as they loved other people before they properly met. but their love saved worlds, lasted billions of years, and was so universe altering the time lords had a prophecy about them ages upon ages ago. that is some some last of the real ones, ‘ultra kind of love you never walk away from’ right there.

My happily ever after for them: in my head, the doctor and clara meet again properly after a few centuries apart and probably a regeneration or two. their distance and new perspective only causes them to reaffirm their love and travel the universe together - sometimes splitting up when there’s a need but always ‘together’ - until they both eventually face their ravens.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: usually the doctor is the big spoon and clara is the little spoon, but sometimes they will change it up if it is a specific time clara is trying to help the doctor feel comforted and secure.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: not to state the obvious, but traveling in space and time

eleven

How I feel about this character: he is my favorite doctor. more than any of the other doctors, i truly believe that he is ancient and operates on a different morality plane than a typical human would understand. he has so many layers to him that i find interesting: the contrast of his childish behavior and being older than we can conceive. the silver of ice in his heart - i love that; ten and nine ran hot, but eleven ran cold and i found that darkness that allowed him to lock out old amy or sneer that humans weren’t capable of playing games with him to be much scarier and much more fascinating. i love that he keenly feels the weight of his name, his promise. i love his obsession with goofy things like fezzes and his flappy hands. i love how selfish and selfless he is. he is THE doctor to me and i love him.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: see ABOVE. there are a couple other characters i ship the doctor as a whole with, but speaking specifically of eleven, i do have a soft spot for eleven/rose - moreso than almost any other doctor/rose combination for some strange reason. i also feel like the eleven/amy relationship sort of goes beyond labels, but it is one of my very favorite relationships and there is certainly a sense in which it is romantic. 

My non-romantic OTP for this character: the doctor and amy are one of my very favorite relationship, and even with my caveat above, i would ultimately think of them not as a couple, so i think they go here. i literally have a 20 page word doc in my computer that’s just me doing second rate analysis of their relationship episode by episode. that potent mixture of idealization/devotion/disillusionment/codependence/hope/not being able to let go yet being unable to move on... it gets me.

My unpopular opinion about this character: who knows what popular opinions are in the who fandom anymore, but back when eleven’s era was airing there was a common criticism that he lost the moral compass nine/ten had, especially w/ the no killing thing. i find this to be a phenomenally stupid reading and one with a selective memory. in fact, while eleven does break his own rules and kill people, just like nine and ten do, i feel he’s certainly held far more accountable for when he does than they ever were.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: i wish his manipulative behavior towards the people he loves would have been dealt with more. to a certain degree, i think that trait will always be present in the doctor and is kind of necessary for the show as a whole so i understand not fully resolving it, but i feel like he lies and manipulates as much in his last episode as much as his first without any real growth. when you look at how this was handled with twelve, where he really got called out on it and started to grow... it’s kind of unsatisfying how eleven just stayed static in that regard

my OTP: take a wild guess

my cross over ship: none i can immediately think of....

a headcanon fact: while he needs less sleep than a human, the doctor likes to pretend he doesn’t need to sleep at all which often leads to him finally dozing off in bizarre places/times (doing a tardis repair he insists he needs to be upside down for). rory is very concerned but doesn’t know enough about time lord biology to confront him.

ranking nuwho companions  (s1-s10, as i’m not caught up and don’t want to reflect on the newest companions until i’ve seen all that’s available, and only doing the major hitters)

clara oswald, who i must shockingly reveal is one of my favorite characters ever in anything.

martha jones, who we never deserved.

amy pond, who means the world to me because of our shared mental health issues.

bill potts, who is so full of kindness, wonder, and joy.

donna noble, who is bursting with life and humor and had a horrible, horrible ending.

rose tyler, who would be higher on this list if i were just looking at series one but whose character arc i felt got significantly derailed the longer she stayed on the show.

[saras-almanac]

I don’t know if i am getting to deep about this (probably) but i’m kinda sad that robert got to briefly talk about his feelings saying there’s stuff he’s done keeping him awake at night at the worst possible time. i just wish they explored more of this when he actually had a support network around him. and he probably meant trying to kill paddy and chas, but that’s not the point. i don’t know guess it just upsets me a bit that we got an insight into his feelings at a horrible time.

Thank you so much for this ask because I could talk about #JusticeforRobert centric storylines until I die. And to be honest, I probably will because… he just deserved one? And the fact that there is/was so much potential for things to explore with Robert and the show just sort of chose not to, is annoying. Especially because Ryan could have carried an intense storyline (he literally carried 2017) and Danny/Aaron could have been this supportive husband. It would have been great for the people around them to really see Aaron supporting Robert through something. They sort of did that with the reunion 2.0 and Seb storyline (and even Rebecca’s disappearance) but it wasn’t really enough. 

The biggest frustration, sort of like you said, is that we just didn’t spend a lot of time with Robert’s feelings on things. I’m not trying to say we got nothing, but the BIG storylines that should have put Robert front and center (his coming out, his shooting, his reluctance to fatherhood, his prison sentence) shove his feelings and Robert to the side in lieu of someone else, someone who might be “more important” or needing the focus more. Now I could say that it’s sort of Robert’s character to hide his feelings because he doesn’t like showing them and being vulnerable while also never wanting to be a burden to anyone, that’s not really an excuse for the show to choose that path. 

Under the cut because this became a monster on points I have literally no idea of whether or not you wanted to read about! 

Robert’s Coming Out – What we could have had. 

Now, as a bisexual, I wish we’d have gotten more of Robert’s POV as he was outed against his will and the fallout. Even if we didn’t get it right away, they wrote in multiple times where people call him gay or throw his sexuality in his face and Robert never really got a chance to fight back for that. He stands up the most with Aaron and while the other times might just be a matter of, It’s really not worth it to fight for this cause the other person clearly doesn’t care… It just shouldn’t have taken so long to get the reveal and backstory of how his sexuality (and suppression) has affected him. 

Again, I would never want to take that moment in the woods away because it was literally perfect: the context, the reveal, the desperation of just wanting to be himself with Aaron. But there’s no reason that we couldn’t have been privy to some of Robert’s thoughts about this before that point. Especially after his shooting. 

Robert’s Shooting – Was Robert even there for that? 

I’m gonna be honest and say that I’m probably the most annoyed about this lack of storyline for Robert. He was literally shot and it became all about Andy and Aaron. While their stories played a massive part in everything that happened, it came at the complete erasure of Robert. He was shot. His entire life was changed. He thought someone he loved, someone who loved him–all of him and even the awful parts–tried to kill him. That literally shook Robert down to his core. We see it in the two instances where Robert is faced with that reality. But then he realizes Andy’s behind it, gets Aaron out of prison, and it’s literally never brought up again. Don’t you think that might have caused a shift in Robert? A fear or an even bigger desperation to prove himself? Or that his fear that he wasn’t worth it and no one could ever really love him was back in full force? 

But the show decided to not give any time to that. 

They also didn’t give any time to Robert’s recovery any focus at all. There’s the comment with Adam and Andy when Vic first brings Robert back from the hospital where they comment on how he doesn’t look like himself. I think there’s a scene where Robert first goes to the pub, but all the Dingles are mad at him because Aaron’s in prison… Though that’s not Robert’s fault? He was the one who shot? He literally was in a coma for like a month… But sure? I guess, go off on him Dingles? It all makes sense that Aaron would be angry because, as much as he claimed to hate Robert, he’d never try to kill him. And I think, honestly, the fact that Robert thought so for even a little while probably cut Aaron. 

But other than those two scenes, Robert’s basically right as rain. Except for the moment his stitches tear after saving Andy from the car. 

This period of time is meant to be Robert’s metamorphosis. He’s changing from scheming, angry, bitter chancer to someone who actively wants to be better and is, ultimately, looking for love. The problem is, it’s not really present. Not really. He says to Lawrence in the hell plot that was 2017, that it took the bullet to the chest to come to terms with his sexuality and himself. But where was that? Why did we not see that? 

We saw the one, beautiful, shining moment that showed (a bit) that Robert was trying to be better, to do better as his shooting and realizing just how much he’s hurt people, people he did care about. Robert goes to court for Chrissie’s trial and speaks out in her defense, taking responsibility for upsetting Chrissie and giving her a defense. It was unexpected and beautiful… but then they did nothing with that? They sort of forgot it and, of course, they had to go back to be antagonist towards each other. Which fine. 

The only thing we really get after Robert’s shooting, is his determination to win Aaron back. Which is wonderful and I loved it, but it was about Robert trying to prove himself to Aaron, not really about showing us the changes. We did get them, his current ending storyline is proof of that, but it just sort of feels like a little bit of a wasted opportunity to really explore Robert’s character and the regrets he had. 

I think the biggest Robert-focused (if we can call it that) storyline that showcased his changes, would be the abuse era and how he literally put everything on hold to be there for Aaron, as much as he possibly could. And it was great, but I just feel like they could have done more with Robert before this point. So we as the viewer could know how much Robert changed and how badly he wanted Aaron back, how much he loved him. But they chose not to. 

And then after they got back together, there was no real storyline for Robert. Yes, he was present for Liv going to youth offenders, but that was clearly framed as Aaron’s “obstacle.” His seizure and running himself ragged, was more about what might be happening to Rebecca. It’s fine that he’s not front and center always because… it’s an ensemble show, but I really feel like any story he might have been the center for, they shifted the focus so it wasn’t on him. 

Okay so 2017… Yes, Robert and his breakdown was a focus… but like… It wasn’t that good? I get that the writers were like, he’s regressing cause of his breakup with Aaron and that’s true on one hand… but it also felt a bit… over-the-top? It wasn’t nuanced, but Robert was the focus so I guess, be careful what you wish for, Sara. (That’s on me). 

Basically, I completely understand your frustration that we got a small glimpse into Robert’s state of mind right before he’s leaving. I am taking that more as a way to prove to himself and Aaron that Robert deserves to be in prison. He’s messed up, hurt people, and done so many things that he’s ashamed of and/or regrets, so this is his penance. (It’s bullshit, babe. You don’t deserve any of this). So if they don’t try and use it as a way for Robert to push Aaron away which… will suck if that’s the route they’re choosing. Because… no. Literally, have Robert tell Aaron not to visit him because he gave himself up so Aaron could have a life. And Aaron could cry and argue that he doesn’t want a life that doesn’t include Robert in it. Then Robert, switching tactics, says that it’s killing him to only see Aaron once a week, talk every few days–it killed him when Aaron was inside and it’s going to kill him to do this for the next 20 years. So he tells Aaron to please, let him go because it’s just going to be too hard for Robert to see him in prison visiting rooms. (Of course, this means that Aaron can’t get Seb because… then Robert doesn’t get to see his son either? But whatever.) 

By having Robert frame it as what he needs–to be alone and not be constantly reminded of what he’s missing–it’s the only, only way I could see Aaron not fighting and pushing him. Because they would always and will always sacrifice their own happiness for their husband’s security and needs. (But I assume they won’t.)

Obviously, I want Aaron to fight to stay with Robert because why would he want to be without him? Why would he just give up on the love of his life, especially knowing how hard and lonely prison is? And it’s not like Robert’s family gives any sort of fuck about him. 

So after this week, I’ll probably live in my own canon of them staying together and Robert’s solicitor and new prison BFF DC Pierce working on an appeal to lessen Robert’s charge from murder to manslaughter because… it’s fiction and it can be done–and they love Robert as much as us. So he gets out in a much smaller sentence. And also… all the massive AUs and Canon divergents that I want to write that might actually address some of these storylines and making Robert if not a main player, at least an equal player. (If anyone’s interested in them in the future.) 

Thank you for giving me something to focus on and to write this massive essay for no reason but to procrastinate my Robert Week fics… (I don’t have tomorrow’s yet. Oops.) 

[suicidalcatz]

DOG DAYS ARE OVER : CHAP 5

AN: Hello frens! Are you having a nice sunday? In this chapter we exchange some texts. But also we make fun of Josh just because. In the next chapter, things get complicated between the three of you... I hope you’ll like it. Please feel free to comment or send me prompts!

Pairing : Jake Kiszka x Reader

Genre : College AU

Previous parts : Prologue ; Chap 1 ; Chap 2 ; Chap 3 ; Chap 4

Masterlist : here

Chapter five : New number, who dis ?

Packing never made me feel weird before. It was friday afternoon so a majority of students were going home or, like me, to their parents' place for the week end. Most of the time I'd stay in my dorm with Mandy because we had so much homework there was no point coming home at all. I already knew for a fact that I'll be locked up in my room all week end painting, drawing, and cutting paper, but I promised I'd see them since it has been a while. My parents' cooking and comfy house usually made me impatient but not this time. I knew the boys were staying on campus because they lived far away, and it gave me mixed feelings. Part of me longed for Jake, and the feeling of his touch on my wrist was still so vivid I sometimes got the impression his hand was still here. On the other hand, he and Josh were big family guys, and seeing them missing their home so much while I was reluctant to see mine made me feel like a spoiled brat. That's why instead of calling to tell my parents I wasn't coming home this week end either, I went home to enjoy every bit of it.

My mom had already made my favorite dish, and dad was excitedly chatting about this new movie  he saw on tv the other day. It felt good, I could allow myself to relax a little, take a bath, hang out with some friends for an hour or two after finishing an assignment.

Sitting at my desk, I dropped the pen and stretched my back, falling back onto the chair and looking at my work. I did good this week, so the teacher didn't make me redo any of my assignments, which was very fortunate because I still had a flyer design to create. I unfolded that one Jake gave to me and took a look at all the infos, preparing a draft of my first idea. Why they didn't let the Illustration department do the visual com design was a mystery. By the look of it I bet it was the Music and Architecture dudes who made it. There was a bunch of band names thrown in the middle, what looked like a pixelled stock image of a Santa hat in a corner, « with beer ! » in a really ugly comic bubble in another, and the worst was that they though Comic Sans was an acceptable font choice. Unbelievable. That's why we can't let Architecture dudes do anything.

Creating a decent design took me a solid two hours, which was way faster than I planned. Getting up, I studied it from a distance, looking for flaws. It wasn't the best I could've done but it was pretty cool and not printed with neon yellow paper. For now, I'll rest my head for a bit and see if I can sketch the few more ideas I came up with later on. Feeling proud of my work, I took a picture to send it to Jake. It was dark and quiet outside, and one glance at the clock confirmed my thoughts on how late it was already. Biting my lower lip, I struggled. Maybe he was sleeping.

I never texted him since he gave me his number. I mean he gave it to me so we could talk about the flyers, right ? I would've been uneasy using it for another reason. Pondering whether of not I should maybe wake him up, I started pacing in my room, tidying and touching things, stuff I did when I was nervous. My arm still had some black marker on it, faded shapes and symbols vaguely resembling numbers, like an old letter with smudged ink and discolored paper. At first I didn't wanted to wash it off. Mandy and I got so excited by it we cheered together right after school, and classmates seemed intrigued by it. The cold weather didn't allow me to show too much skin so it could look like a tattoo, or a hot guy gave me his number (which was technically true). It could look like I just wrote it myself, but it was totally lame so I didn't want to think about it. Although I really enjoyed that empowering feeling of being someone's interest, at least a little, I scrubbed it hard the same evening. I didn't know if Josh was aware of it and couldn't raise suspicion in case he wasn't. It looked like we were doing something bad, and maybe we were, I had no clue. Guys had that weird rule regarding friends dating brothers and according to Netflix romcoms I was walking on thin fucking ice so I wasn't taking any risks. To be honest I don't think Josh would mind us talking but Jake seemed like a secretive guys so if he told Josh then I'll talk about it and otherwise, I won't. I'll just go with the flow and follow his lead on this, it was safer.

It was almost 2AM when I sent the pic and left my room to get a nice cup of tea/coffee after all these efforts. By the time I got back I had one new message.

« Hi to you too »

I felt my heart jump a little when I saw his name at the top of the screen, and his first text made me smile. I got so pumped by all these design ideas that I forgot to tell him it was me. The picture made it clear enough, though, but maybe it was a bit rude of me. Taking a sip of hot tea/coffee before putting the mug on the night table, I sat on the bed, eyes still on my phone, thinking of an answer. It took me maybe too long because I kept on rereading it to be sure I wouldn't embarrass myself with a typo.

« Hi, sorry. So what do you think ? »

The phone was threwn on the blankets and I turned on the tv to make me think of something else than his future reply. Saying that I was confident would be half-true. The design was good or so I thought so, but then again tastes were all too subjectives and art was tricky. He had all the right to hate it, I wouldn't take it personally (well at least not a hundred percent...). Idly watching a re-run of some old sitcom, I continued to quietly empty my cup and switch channels without really paying attention when I heard my phone buzz and let everything down to grab it.

« I got to admit you were right, our flyers sucked, this one looks fantastic »

And maybe my cheeks started turning pink. Compliments on my art meant a lot, more than those on my personnality or physic. It was really rewarding to have someone enjoy something you created from your own hands. It felt better than any other flattery, so the reply came naturally.

« I'm so glad you like it. I had a few more ideas in stock just in case »

His next message came so fast this time that I didn't even put down my phone yet when I felt it vibrate in my palm.

« Thank you for this, I really appreciate it. I'll owe you one. »

His sweet personality made a smile spread across my face. I took the flyer in my hand again, studying it. The number of bands playing this day was surprisingly high. Some of them I knew because I either heard people talk about it, or knew the guys playing. One especially because they kept rehearsing their rap lyrics in the dorms for everybody to enjoy, which I didn't since they started loudly singing at three in the morning and ignored all my complaints about the noise of their boombox. But most of the bands, no, I didn't know. I continued watching intently the names of the bands playing as if I'll have an epiphany and guess which was Jake's. Giving up, I took my phone again to tap.

« Don't sweat it, I'm glad to help. So... which one are you... ? »

Again, the reply was faster than the first texts we exchanged, despite the late hour.

« You mean the band ? Guess you'll have to come and find out »

I raised an amused eyebrow at this. Getting cocky, aren't we ?

« Alright then, Mister Mysterious, I'll wait and see. »

« You won't regret it. », replied Jake, and for some reason my face started heating up again.

We didn't speak for several minutes, I didn't know what to say now that the topic was closed, and I had nothing to add to it. Switching channels and drinking tea/coffee didn't gave me much help either, at this hour it was either old re-runs, or tv shopping. My eyes looked at the digital alarm clock, and it was almost three in the morning. That's how I knew what to write next.

« I just thought about it, but didn't I wake you up ? »

He was fast as ever again this time, probably wide awake and without anything to do.

« No, don't worry. Rehearsing with my brothers. I'm taking a break until Sam and Josh stop arguing and find a compromise for the new song. Our friend Danny's being the peace keeper once again, I left him alone on the battlefield and went out for a smoke. »

The war metaphor made me chuckle lightly, causing my imagination to run wild. The thought went through my mind that I couldn't believe they would argue, but since they were brothers it was normal I guess, even if they seemed pretty close. Close enough to form a band together at least. I never saw Josh angry, but he had a very vivid temperament, so it wasn't really much of a surprise either. My mind wandered a bit, and I briefly wondered how Jake looked in a heated argument. Probably hot, but also intimidating. He had that kind of quiet aura that seemed like it could become suddenly agitated, like a spotless watercourse that got troubled by the rain or rocks that ricocheted on it. I couldn't explain it, but it was how my limited knowledge of him perceived it.

My phone buzzed again, and this time it was a picture that made me snort in the ugliest way possible. It was a very unflattering close up of a moody and clearly unamused Josh who looked like he was in the middle of scolding Jake for doing whatever he did that got him upset. More of it  came, one after the other, for my greatest amusement, and by looking at them in order I could see his actions and movements, like a flipbook of ugly pictures of an angry Josh wearing a colorful dyed t shirt and ample pants that I assumed were his pajamas. The last one got me shaking with laughter, poor Josh looked awful, in a middle of what I assumed was a menacing speech for Jake to stop his bullshit, with an eye half closed and his mouth stuck the weirdest twist of the lips humanly possible. I saved this one as blackmail material, might be helpful in the future.

I didn't even know what to respond to that, they all radiated such chaotic energy it was splendid. Jake was quicker, and sent me a text this time, saying Josh threw his slipper at his face and that he was lucky he hadn't had the tambourine in his hands at that moment.

« I guess rehearsal is over for today, hopefully they'll make up their minds about the song tomorrow. Thanks again for the flyers, see you on monday, we'll print them. »

I never knew I'd be that impatient to go back to school before meeting him.

[ghostgothgeek]

Super.

@currently-lurking’s Phicc Phight is forcing me to write some cuteness. Here’s @deredereart‘s prompt “Danny wasn’t ever really expecting fans when he became a superhero, but after a civilian gives him a drawing they did of him, he finds out that he’s more of a celebrity than he thought.” 

1,126 words, complete.

Danny dusted his hands off once he finally touched the ground. Ember was much more reluctant to go into the thermos than usual and put up quite a fight.

“Got the thermos, Tuck?”

“Yep! It’s right here.” Tucker waved it around in the air.

“Good,” Danny looked over at his friends, “now give it to Sam so you don’t accidentally release the ghosts....again.”

“Hey!” Tucker objected as Sam giggled softly, “that was like, one time...three tops!”

Sam shook her head. “No, it’s been at least seven. Danny and I have a bet going.” Tucker narrowed his eyes at her.

“Guys, can we not argue right now? Please? I just want to go home and crash.” Danny yawned. “This hero thing is exhausting. And no one cares! What would happen if Phantom just went on a little vacation or something…”

Sam raised an eyebrow, “then your parents would be in charge of catching ghosts, and we all know how that turns out.”

“Yeah, man. You’re doing great!” Tucker rested a reassuring hand on Danny’s shoulder.

“I care...Tucker and I care. You’re doing a great thing here. We’re proud of you.” Sam smiled.

“And it’s really cool to have a superhero for a best friend!”

“Tucker, I wouldn’t exactly call myself a superhero.” Danny made air quotes with his fingers around the word ‘super’. “Superheroes have fan bases. I just get a few weird news stories here and there and they don’t even get my name right.”

“It’s not about fame and recognition, Danny. This town would have been destroyed multiple times if it weren’t for you. That definitely counts for something. Plus, I think you have a little fan over there.” Sam pointed across the street to a young boy standing with his mother. Sam grabbed Tucker’s arm and stepped back a bit when they started approaching Danny.

The boy couldn’t have been older than 6 or 7. His mother nudged him towards Danny as Danny turned around to face them. “H-hi Mr. Phantom.” The boy looked up at him in wonder, and Danny was looking down at him in curiosity.

“He’s a big fan of yours, he’s just a little shy,” the mother explained to Danny.

Danny smiled and bent down to reach the boy’s level. “Hi there. What’s your name?”

“Adam. You’re really cool! My friends and I pretend to fight like you all the time when we play at recess.” He smiled at Danny, clutching a piece of paper to his chest.

“Ask him, honey. Now’s your chance.” The mother nudged her son again.

Adam nodded, “I-I’m having a Danny Phantom birthday party next month, and it would be really cool if you could come.” He cowered into his mother a bit.

Danny raised his eyebrows. A Danny Phantom birthday party? How did that even work? He was blown away by the boy’s comments. He never expected that level of recognition before. Sure, he wished news articles started painting him in a better light and that they would stop using Inviso-Bill to refer to him. But he especially never expected little kids to know who he was, and to be that admired by them had Danny a little speechless.

Danny looked back at Sam and Tucker. Sam gave him a warm smile and a thumbs up, while Tucker was distracted putting something into his phone. Danny faced the boy again and smiled at him, “Yeah, Adam. That would be cool. I’d love to come.”

“Show him your drawing, Adam.” The mother looked over at Danny. “He’s been carrying it around for weeks hoping he would run into you so he could give it to you.”

Danny held his hand out, “can I see it?” The boy nodded and handed the paper over to Danny. Danny flipped the paper over and saw a loopy drawing of him as Phantom, shooting ectoplasm out of his hands and aiming for a ghost that looked like the Box Ghost with a sheet over his head, pretending to be one of those cartoon-like ghosts. Danny had to admit, the kid was pretty talented considering how young he looked. “Wow.” Danny stared at the page in disbelief. It reminded him of pictures he drew of Spiderman when he was younger. He idolized Spiderman. And now this kid was idolizing Danny Phantom. “I really don’t know what to say. No one has ever drawn me before.” Danny blinked a few times and looked back up at the boy, who looked a little nervous. “This is incredible. I love it.”

“You can keep it. My mom wrote my birthday party invitation on the back for you.”

Danny smiled widely, “Thank you. This is really cool. I’ll see you around, okay? And I’ll see you at your birthday party on…” Danny flipped the page over, “June 3rd.” Danny’s smile grew as he saw the boy’s face light up.

“Thank you, Mr. Phantom.” The mother smiled at Danny, “let’s get going, Adam. He’s probably very busy.”

Danny rose to his full height again and waved to the boy, who gave him a small wave. Sam and Tucker walked up beside him as the boy and his mom turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.

“Wow.” Danny looked at the drawing again before showing his friends, both of them breathing down his neck on opposite shoulders.

“That’s pretty cool, dude! You have a fan!” Tucker shouted in Danny’s ear. Danny pulled back immediately, nearly headbutting Sam in the process.

“Yeah. Apparently his friends are too. He’s having a Danny Phantom birthday party and asked me to come.” Danny chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He had been complaining about not getting enough recognition all but five minutes ago, and now that he actually received some, he didn’t know how to react.

“You should go. Meet the rest of your fan base.” Sam smiled.

“The rest?” Danny raised an eyebrow at her.

“Well, yeah. There’s bound to be more beyond just Tucker and I. We are your number one fans, after all.” Sam smirked and knocked her hip against Danny’s.

Danny blushed slightly, his cheeks glowing a light green.

“Hell yeah, dude! When they start making Danny Phantom t-shirts, I’ll be first in line!” Tucker said excitedly, “Best friends of the superhero should get first dibs!”

“I still wouldn’t really call myself a superhero…” Danny looked at the drawing again.

“Yeah, and Tucker’s not a techno geek.” Sam rolled her eyes. “Give yourself some credit, Danny. You’re pretty super to me.” She smiled warmly at Danny again. It was something rare to see Sam smile like that, and it was always contagious enough to spread to Danny.

Danny grinned and looked at the drawing once more. “Yeah. Pretty super.”

[ladylynse]

So, long before Legend of Korra aired and told us more about the spirit world in ATLA, I started writing a Danny Phantom/Avatar: The Last Airbender crossover....

“Pick a door, any door, right?” Danny muttered to himself, glancing down at the paper in his hand before looking around him again. He’d never gone out to this part of the Ghost Zone before. Not that he remembered, anyway, and it was beyond time that he started filling in the blank spots in his map.

Ordinarily, he wouldn’t be out scouting without Sam and Tucker in the Spectre Speeder, but it was five in the morning, or at least it had been when he’d left the house, and he was definitely not prepared to wake anyone up just because he couldn’t sleep.

It wasn’t normally this bad. After doing the catch-and-release thing with the Box Ghost twice, he’d just left him in the Fenton Thermos for the night and planned to get some much-needed sleep. He’d only gotten about two hours before his ghost sense had first gone off, and he really hadn’t wanted that to be it. But he’d only just been getting back to sleep when it had gone off for a fourth time, and then it had been Skulker after his pelt, and by the time Danny had him in the thermos, it had been around three thirty.

After an hour and a half of rolling around in bed, he’d admitted defeat. Tired as he was, he wasn’t going to be getting any more sleep. Also, tired as he was, any homework he did wouldn’t make sense anyway, so he’d left it as is. Hence the early morning scouting mission in the Ghost Zone.

Some of the doors led to places created by certain ghosts themselves. They were specific realms for ghosts who hadn’t made their homes directly in the Ghost Zone like Skulker or Dora or Frostbite had. But some really were just doorways. He’d opened one that appeared to be a shortcut to the Far Frozen. Another had opened into a dungeon—or at least a really dreary prison cell—in what he assumed was the Real World. But there’d been a whole host of things in between, places that, if they weren’t created by other ghosts, had to be other dimensions. At the very least, other worlds.

Danny opened the door to his left. It opened into a swath of blackness permeated by pinpricks of light. “Right,” he said, closing it. “That was either outer space or a planetarium or Nocturne’s favourite place in the entire Ghost Zone.” He made a few notes and then moved to the door on his right.

It was then that he heard it.

Some kind of ominous rumbling sound.

His ghost sense didn’t go off in the Ghost Zone (thank goodness), so sight and sound were about the only warnings he ever got.

And he didn’t need to see this thing to know he shouldn’t stick around.

“Fastest way back, fastest way back,” Danny murmured, glancing down at his notes. Whatever this was, he didn’t want to lead the thing straight to the Fenton Portal, but he didn’t want to do a whole lot of roundabout manoeuvring when he didn’t have a firm grasp of where he currently was.

When he took a quick peek up at his surroundings so he could guess at how long he had before he got attacked, he knew he had to move now. Whatever it was would give a chimera a run for its money. (Sam should be proud that he remembered what those things were called; for all that she’d been trying to coach him on a bit of mythology after the incident with Pandora’s Box, it was slow going.) He definitely didn’t want to stick around.

Trouble was, he was kind of backed into a corner. Stupid thing could duplicate. That was probably how it got its prey—surrounded them, cut them off, and then attacked.

Fun.

He got backed into one of the doors. The one he hadn’t yet checked, of course. Logically, he knew it was his best bet for escape. Still, he’d never intended to actually go through one. That was just asking for trouble. Especially when he had no idea where he’d end up if he did.

Crud. He’d never hear the end of it if he let slip that this had happened. Jazz, at the very least, would make sure he never went into the Ghost Zone by himself again.

But if he didn’t take a chance, he wouldn’t have to worry about how Jazz would react, and he’d never get to see the look on Sam’s face (or Tucker’s, when he found out) when he admitted—

No. He was going to get out of this. Alive and in one piece. Danny felt for the door handle, murmured, “Here goes nothing,” and flipped around, diving through the door as the ghost lunged for him.

The door slammed shut behind Danny, cutting off the bright green glow from the Ghost Zone, and it took a minute for him to realize that he probably wasn’t going to die a very painful death or otherwise be wiped from existence. The place looked normal enough. Lots of rock and bare trees, but not really cold. Kinda dark, with muted colours, like someone had taken a page out of Sam’s book, but since he didn’t yet have company, he figured it was a fairly safe bet that he hadn’t stumbled into another ghost’s lair. That meant he’d come through a doorway into another world.

Well, if this was still Earth—his Earth—then it definitely wasn’t a time with which he was familiar.

Still, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Not the end of the world, anyway. All he had to do was sit tight until he figured the creature on the other side of the door had left, and then he just had to—

Danny glanced over his shoulder, and his heart sank. “Crud,” he muttered. He had a problem.

Even by his terms, it was a pretty big one.

The door was gone—and with it, his way home.

XXXXXX

“We’re running low on supplies,” Sokka said, looking up from the papers he’d piled in front of him. “We’re going to have to make a quick stop in a town soon. And I mean quick. No sticking around like last time. We don’t have time.”

“You never say we have time,” Aang countered from his place by the fire in the middle of their makeshift campsite. He was playing with Momo, trying to keep a leaf from touching the ground.

“Because we’re behind schedule!” Sokka retorted, gesturing at the papers. “Look at this! We’ve only got—”

“If you say it one more time tonight,” Toph said without moving from where she lay, “I’ll wash your mouth out with dirt.”

“But we can’t—”

“I can make sure there’s at least one roachworm in it, too.”

Katara laughed at Sokka’s sour expression, and he glared at her. “Don’t pretend you’re not worried,” he groused.

Katara’s smile fell. “Of course I’m worried,” she said. “But Toph’s right. Saying it again isn’t going to help us move any faster. Appa needs rest, and you’ve already said we can make up our time if we start a little bit earlier each day. We’ll make it.”

“Appa’s doing the best he can,” Aang added. “Aren’t you, buddy?” He looked over to the edge of their campsite, and the flying bison in question snorted his agreement.

“We can’t always start earlier every time we get behind,” Sokka muttered. “We’ll end up quitting earlier if we try that.”

“I won’t be complaining,” Toph said. “The sooner I get back on the ground each day, the better.”

“But we wouldn’t—” Sokka broke off, realizing he wasn’t going to win this argument. For all that he was often right, he didn’t win a lot of arguments. He was cursed with travelling with people who were hard to argue with, if only because they didn’t listen to him.

Ever.

“We won’t be off right away tomorrow anyway,” Katara said, reaching over to use a stick to shift the logs of their fire. Fortunately, if they were careful, smoke wasn’t something to fear. The Fire Nation didn’t track down every smoke trail they saw; only the suspicious ones.

They’d managed to skirt the patrols for days now. Katara had still been reluctant to gather wood for a fire, but Sokka had finally managed to talk his sister into something. That was an argument he had won, and he’d been rewarded with a hot meal. With real cooked meat from the game they’d caught. Something other than roots and berries and (he still shuddered to think of the fact that he’d ever swallowed it) insects.

But a fresh meal wasn’t something they could afford to seek often, and they could never risk staying in one spot long enough to do anything to preserve a large supply of meat so that they could take it with them and, theoretically, not have to stop as often as supplies.

Besides, Aang didn’t eat meat, and though he didn’t stop them from enjoying it, Sokka knew Katara, at least, was doing her best to find and prepare meals that they would all eat.

Eat, but not necessarily enjoy. Roots just didn’t taste as good as meat. They were bland. Stringy. Tough. Berries were good. Well, most berries were good. But even when they found edible ones, some of them were sour or they had pits or the seeds got stuck in his teeth…. In his opinion, meat was just so much better.

Sokka sighed and slumped back down onto the pile of leaves he’d gathered for his bed. Though he couldn’t see her, he knew his sister was gathering all the papers he’d left into a bundle. When the shuffling stopped, he asked, “Did you think of something else we need?”

Katara hesitated before saying, softly, “I’m not thinking of our supplies.”

“Then what are you thinking about?” Aang asked, sounding far more cheerful than Sokka figured he had any right to, especially seeing as he had the greatest responsibility of them all.

Sure, Sokka would admit optimism was good and that keeping their spirits up was important, but he sometimes got the feeling that Aang didn’t appreciate—or just plain ignored—how much danger they actually faced. Being realistic didn’t seem to come anywhere as near as easy to the air bender as being optimistic did. Sokka just couldn’t bring himself to ignore all the things that could go wrong like Aang could.

But Aang was the Avatar. And if Sokka was honest, he’d done a lot of growing up since they’d first met. He might not know fire bending, but he was skilled at the other three elements. He had a kind heart, if too trusting of one, and Sokka had seen more than one act of wisdom on Aang’s part, for all that he still had more than his share of childish moments.

Sokka knew all about that, of course. Aang might only be twelve—even if he was technically one hundred and twelve—but not all of his wisdom came in snatches through mediation or influence from his past lives, and not all of it came from what the monks had taught him, back when the Air Nomads had still existed. The decisions he’d faced since he’d found himself the centre of a war that had been raging for all the years he’d been missing…. It wasn’t the same as the ones Sokka had had to make after his father and the rest of the men in the Southern Water Tribe had left, but he knew, on some level, how Aang felt.

He knew what it was like to feel like everything was going over your head but knowing you had to do your best anyway. He knew how it felt to act on decisions, pretending to be satisfied with them while fearful that they might not have been the right ones. He knew the agonizing feeling of being forced to make split-second decisions without having enough information. He knew how it felt to work towards something and see all his hard work come to naught. He knew how it felt to make mistakes and be held to them. He knew how it felt to have people look to you when you weren’t sure you’d yet earned the right to be the one everyone depended upon.

When Toph spoke, Sokka realized Katara had never answered Aang’s question. “We’ll make it, you know. Sokka will make sure we’re moving according to schedule, even if it kills us. Or—” here she paused “—even if it means he drives us to kill him so we can get some peace.”

“I know,” Katara said, and Sokka didn’t need to see her face to know that she was looking at him or that the sound of Toph’s knuckles cracking had brought a smile to her face when it brought a grimace to his. “You’re right.”

Toph snorted but didn’t comment. Instead, it was Aang who asked cheerily, “So what are we going to get tomorrow?”

He was entirely too comfortable venturing into villages in the Fire Nation in Sokka’s opinion. But that was in his nature. He didn’t want to see danger at every turn. He wanted to see the best in people, to believe that not everything had changed from how he remembered it or that it wouldn’t be that hard to remind people that things didn’t have to be the way they were. But Aang was wrong. Until something changed, they couldn’t afford to pretend the danger wasn’t as real as it was. They had to keep their heads down. Even something as seemingly simple as a supplies run had to be handled carefully.

Sokka turned his head slightly and caught sight of his sister, who was already wrapped up in her conversation with Aang. He knew she’d never answered Aang’s question. He might have forgotten, and Toph might have, too, but she couldn’t fool him. Not all the time, anyway, and she’d pulled that trick on him far too often for him not to recognize it.

He could guess what she was worried about. There was any number of things that could be on her mind. Most, if not all, of them were on his mind already.

They didn’t have enough allies.

They hadn’t found a fire bender teacher.

They constantly ran the risk of detection.

They didn’t have much of a plan.

They were running out of time.

They didn’t know what the Fire Nation was up to or if they even had any inkling of what was actually being planned.

Their friends were risking their lives for them, depending on them, and they might not even succeed if they didn’t shape up. If Aang didn’t….

It all came back to Aang, in the end. As the Avatar, this was part of his responsibilities. They could help him as best they could, but when it came down to it, he’d be on his own. He needed to be strong enough, fast enough, wise enough….

He needed to be, Sokka realized with a sinking heart, someone he wasn’t quite yet.

Aang was the Avatar, and he still had much to learn, but they were running out of time.

XXXXXXXX

Danny had revised his earlier opinion. Nothing truly resembled normal here. This place, wherever it was, was freaky—even by his standards. He figured he’d been moving for at least an hour now, probably more, just picking his way through the forest and trying to find a way out. Another doorway, maybe. Anything. At this rate, he’d settle for contact with something that didn’t shift, even if it wasn’t human.

But he hadn’t come across anything that really stayed still yet. Nothing seemed to stay still. Things blurred on the edge of his vision. Trees twisted themselves into different shapes, branches turning to follow him like a sunflower would follow the sun—only to return to their previous positions when he turned to look at them. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught glimpses of creatures skittering around that seemed like a horrible mix of the normal ones he knew from back home. They were underfoot and overhead and sometimes just out of sight, even though he knew they were there.

But it wasn’t just what he saw that was really gnawing at him. The air felt…dead. Like he was still in the Ghost Zone. Only this place still had a real sky, unless it was always this dark, which he doubted. And even though the animal life was far from what he was used to, the vegetation seemed normal enough. So it had to be a place like Earth.

Just a really, really creepy place on Earth.

Those places had to exist back home. The woods here almost felt like something out of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, minus the worrying sound of hoofbeats, and that inspiration had to come from somewhere besides nightmares. It was just…. It wasn’t right, somehow. He’d been dragged to enough supposed ‘haunted houses’ as a kid to know what it sounded like when you were hiking through a forest to some abandoned hunting cabin. And this….

It wasn’t always normal, with short silences broken by small animal sounds or wind in the trees or anything. It was like someone was fiddling with the volume knob on the radio. Sometimes it was horrendously loud, with various calls and hissing and rustlings. And sometimes…. Sometimes, there was something that definitely didn’t…. He heard muted screams. He couldn’t tell if those were human screams, exactly, but he…. It set him on edge.

To make it even more unsettling, there were other times when, as if a switch had been flipped, it was completely silent.

At this rate, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he found himself walking past melting clocks or something. Trouble was, this just didn’t seem like the Real World. It didn’t…feel the same. It almost felt less like human realm than the Ghost Zone. In his life back home, he’d been in a couple different realities and various twists the timeline could have taken but didn’t, but those had always felt…tangible, he supposed. This was more…dreamlike. Surreal, rather than vivid, even though he knew he was living through this. It wasn’t a lifelike dream.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t even a dream at all.

Even Nocturne’s induced dreams felt more real than this place did.

“Just one step at a time,” Danny told himself, rubbing his arms. “Just keep going. Try to find a way out. You’re not going to be stuck here. It’ll be okay.”

He was way more thankful to have a ghostly glow than he’d ever admit to anyone when he got out of this.

Especially to Jazz. For all the questions he knew she was going to ask, he was not going to say what he felt right now. He’d never hear the end of it.

Besides, it wasn’t that he couldn’t form an ectoblast, couldn’t just create one and cradle it to have a bit of extra light, but he just didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He didn’t want any more attention than he was already getting. He doubted he could blend in—he had yet to see another humanoid creature—but so long as he didn’t really stand out, then that was good.

Laying low and playing it safe seemed like a good thing to do right now.

And, anyway, it probably was a good thing to keep a few things to himself. For all he knew, the trees had eyes. He felt like he was being watched, anyway. He definitely wasn’t alone.

This place felt like it had layers. Like you could peel away the outer skin, the disguise, and see the true form beneath it. Like this entire world was built on double meanings, full of tricks and traps that you could fall into if you weren’t clever enough to spot them.

He hadn’t been threatened here yet, but he was almost as scared as he’d been when he’d had to fight his future self.

He was stuck here, wherever here was. He was alone. No one back home would know what had happened to him. He’d never see them again. Not if he didn’t get out of here.

One foot forward, then the other. One step at a time, Danny reminded himself. Don’t think about the future. Don’t wonder what’s going to happen. Don’t waste energy worrying about what can’t be changed. Just focus on the here and now. Just keep moving. Keep looking. Find a way out of here. Find a way home.

(Part II)

[chrismerle]

i asked @nicxan how down dan would be to make out with shai and she said he’d be stupendously down. so here we are. see, dan is married to alex, and while they’re emotionally committed, the relationship is physically open. shai’s polyamorous, and also has a crush on their best friend. (it’s not subtle at all, but largely because dan’s fucking oblivious so they aren’t bothering to hide it.)

anyway, this was right after the cave of the nadir. in their shared canon, dan did the shit with the missionary and the firebrand, so shai’s reasoning for going into the cave was to forget about the hints they tripped over to mr. eaten’s name.

also more second person practice

(casual reminder that i have a ko-fi)

It’s a good dream. There is wine. And food. The company is bland in that way that most not-quite-real people are, but they know your name and your work and they fawn over you like you’re important. You’re pleasantly tipsy and sort of high off the attention when you run out of honey; the dream fractures and fades and you find yourself on your study’s daybed again.

Danny is waiting for you, sitting on the couch, looking sort of concerned and unimpressed. You’re pretty sure you cause that a lot. You’re only occasionally sorry. Right now, you’re mostly still tired. You get to your feet regardless, arms stretching over your head before you set to pacing.

“Intruding,” you point out blandly. There’s no heat to it.

“Marjorie let me in. And I have a blanket invitation,” he argues. “You went there alone.” He sounds a bit accusatory. Honestly, you might be a little offended. You weren’t completely alone. You had Turritopsis and Beryl with you. And it’s not like you didn’t take his advice, but you aren’t exactly going to let him crack open your journal and read it as proof. Really, shameless you may be, but you do draw the line somewhere, and no one is interested in your ramblings anyway.

“I feel fine.” God, but that is a stupid argument. You know if as soon as it leaves your mouth, and you guess the thought shows on your face, since Danny doesn’t call you on it.

‘I feel fine.’ Really? Oh, yes, truly, you can definitely keep track of whether or not you’ve forgotten anything. That isn’t how forgetting things works. ‘I feel fine.’ Fuckssake.

But still, you’re positive you’ve at least held onto everything important. You know you unfortunately held onto that niggling kernel at the back of your brain that sent you on your expedition. It’s less bothersome now, though. Less like you’re constantly tonguing at a loose tooth. Whether the Cave and its colors rounded its edges, or whether you’re just too frayed at the seams to care, you aren’t sure. You suppose you’ll find out later.

You tip your head back to stare at the ceiling as you admit, “There was something I was chasing off, before my curiosity could get the better of me. Don’t give me that look.” You don’t actually need to look at him to know he’s giving you That Look regardless. Still, it gets something of a laugh out of him. You suppose that’s a success.

But still, he is indeed giving you That Look when you look at him. Like he’s concerned. There are so many other things he could spend the energy on, and you’ll never understand how you wind up on that list as often as you do. You’ve learned not to mention those sorts of things to him. He tends to just give you That Look even harder.

“I’m fine, Danny,” you insist, because it seems like the thing to say. “I think someone would have noticed if I’d forgotten something important.”

He’s still giving you That Look, though, and he mutters what sounds like, “You always do that.” He doesn’t offer to elaborate, though, and you’re not entirely sure you want him to, so you don’t ask. You let the comment pass unexamined.

He catches you by the back of your vest as you pass, and you jerk to a halt.

“What?” It comes out a bit more frazzled than you mean it to as you turn to face him. “What do you want me to say? I’m fine, Danny. I’m always fine.”

He rolls his eyes, and you feel…oddly stung, for just a split second.

“Can you just tell me what was such a big deal that you had to go there, of all places? And on your own?” He pauses and shakes his head briefly. “Just—you could have talked to me about it.”

“I did.” You shrug, keeping the motion bland. “And it helped. But it didn’t make the nagging question go away. And I…reacted on instinct.” You grin, sharp and impish. “We know what my instincts usually lead to.”

He’s smiling finally, twisty and reluctant but you’ll take it.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, and he sounds like he’s finally willing to kinda-sorta leave the topic alone.

“Should I swear on my honor?” You shake your head. “Wait, no, that wouldn’t mean much.” You don’t give him time to protest. “You are such a worrywart. Do you know that?”

“I might worry less if you ever relaxed for more than a few seconds at a time,” he argues, and he sounds amused as he says it.

You hum thoughtfully, tapping one knuckle against your chin as you do. “Maybe I should find a way to relax, then.” You have a terrible idea. “To put your mind at ease.” You already know it’s a terrible idea. “It’s only fair, after all.” Most of your ideas are terrible, after all.

You’re still sort of tipsy. And you’ve sort of wanted to do it for a while. And really, he sort of goaded you. You blame that delightful combination for the decision to catch him by the ponytail and tug his head back—carefully.

You have to stoop to kiss him, and he makes a noise that would be hysterical in any other circumstances. It lasts for only a moment, and when you straighten back up, he’s gaping at you. You can almost find it in yourself to be embarrassed, before you decide that’s really not worth the effort. You settle, instead, for watching him expectantly, the hand in his ponytail instead settling on his shoulder.

He needs a moment to gawk, like some sort of zee-monster. You can wait.

Finally, he comes to his senses, shaking his head and reaching up to grab your wrist. “You—I’m married. You’re—attractive, yeah. You know th—everyone knows that. But it—this—“ He’s gesturing between the two of you now. “This can only be…physical.”

You’re tired. And a little tipsy. And you suppose you’ve left your tact in your other trousers, because you roll your eyes so emphatically you can feel it in your shoulders, and you tug your wrist from his grasp, to instead plant your hands on your hips.

“Really? You don’t say. I completely forgot about your husband. See, the two of you have just been too subtle for me. That aspect of your relationship just never even occurred to me, I’m sad to say.”

And just like that, he’s stammering at you in fits and his face is bright red. It’s a bit endearing, except—ah, yes, there it is. Now you feel like an asshole.

“…Sorry.” You withdraw, turning partially away and pinching your nose between two knuckles. “I’m not having a very good day.” You can practically feel how hard he’s staring at you. Irrational though you know it is, you can’t really look at him just yet, out of some lingering idea that it’s pity on his face.

He takes a few steps, and finally you look, only to nearly jump out of your skin when you find he’s right there. He catches you by the elbows before you can retreat.

“Maybe I can make it better…? Your bad day, I mean.”

You’re pretty sure he means it to sound…suggestive? Probably? But really, he mostly sounds sort of unsure. Regardless, you’re charmed—he’s better at that than you’ll ever let him know—and you find yourself grinning slowly.

“Something in mind?” you ask, because you can never resist teasing him at least a little. He scowls up at you, and with the air of someone trying to make a point, he pushes you back to sit on the bed. Standing between your knees, he gets to be taller than you for a change. He hesitates for a second longer, but you don’t get a chance to take matters into your own hands before he decides to beat you to the punch. Once he tips his chin down, you scarcely even need to lean up to meet him.

It’s…softer than you expected. You are softer than you expected. But there are fingertips sliding along the edge of your jaw and a hand in your hair, and for once you can’t bring yourself to be impatient.

You need to open your eyes when he leans back, though you don’t remember closing them. All things considered, he looks a bit too serious, still.

“We’re not done with…that conversation,” he points out, and he bumps your noses together. “We’re still finishing it later.”

Those sorts of conversations are always so serious, and you’re not really a fan. “…Yeah.” But you’re smiling with exasperated fondness, and for the moment it’s easy enough to simply agree. “Yeah, alright. A conversation for later.”

[victorluvsalice]

Valice Shipping Week, Day 3: Blue

Over to one of those AU ideas I have which goes dormant for long periods, and then randomly pops up again whenever I think of the movie it’s related to -- Wonderland Fuzz! The Hot Fuzz AU with Alice as Nick and Victor as Danny. I decided to do this verse for this prompt because, while pondering possible ideas, I remembered the phrase “boys in blue” to refer to cops, and while that may not be strictly true of the UK police service. . .well, it was enough to remind me of the AU. I’ve always wanted to do more fic for it! This starts right after the famous “shortest car chase ever” sequence, where Alice has just intimidated Bruno Carpenter into apologizing for speeding. Victor and Alice return to their car, and Alice decides to give Victor a bit of on-the-job advice. . .

"See what I did there?"

Judging by the expression on Victor's face, he saw nothing more nor less than the Goddess of Law Enforcement sitting next to him. It was equal parts annoying and – though she would never, ever admit it to him – gratifying. "You hypnotized him," he breathed, tone utterly adoring.

Alice shook her head. When was he going to realize that her talents as an officer weren't the result of some innate magic only she had? Ah well, time for another round of "training you ought to have received except nobody in this village seems to care how proper police procedure works." "No, I used this," she said, pulling out her trusty notebook and waggling it in his face. Victor obligingly turned his puppy-dog stare on it. "This is the most important piece of equipment you will ever own," she continued forcefully. "This notebook has saved my skin more times than I care to mention." Especially from administrators who'd seen the notes on her official police profile and started wondering about her field worthiness. . . She pushed that aside and frowned significantly at the pad squirreled in Victor's pocket. "And you should think about using yours more often."

"I do use mine," Victor promptly said, nodding like he was eager for a treat.

Alice raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Really? Show me."

The delighted look vanished as Victor went pink. One hand worked its way to his tie. "Uh – um – w-well. . ."

Alice sighed. Figured. Anything to score points with the big-city cop. "If we're going to work together, you can't lie to me."

"I'm not – I – i-it's just–" Victor ducked his head, gnawing on his lower lip. "You – you p-promise not to make fun?"

All right, that was unexpected. What was in this notebook of his? "I promise," Alice said, hand over her heart.

Victor took a deep breath, then – with clear reluctance – pulled out his notebook and handed it over. Alice flipped it open, prepared to take just a quick glance before giving him a lecture on using police property for its correct purpose –

Only for the words to die on her lips. She gaped, astonished. As she'd suspected, there were no actual notes in the notebook. Instead, Victor had filled it with – butterflies. Dozens of them. Beautiful, lifelike, precise sketches of every species in the English countryside. "Victor. . ."

Victor hunched up, grimacing. "I know," he mumbled into his collar. "I know, I shouldn't – I just l-like them, okay? Have ever since I was a kid."

"So do I," Alice replied absently, turning the pages. Victor hadn't stopped with simple drawings of the full creature, either – there were also careful diagrams of legs and wings and heads, almost like he was practicing for illustrating a biology textbook. Annotations ran off into the margins, detailing interesting facts or quirks he'd noticed about each species. And here's me, thinking he cares about nothing but action movies! Why they tell us never to judge from the surface. . . "These are lovely – I mean, you shouldn't be doing this in your work notebook," she hastily added. "This should solely be for case notes – but they are beautiful."

Victor's head jerked up, eyes wide with surprise. "What – you – you t-think so? I d-do know that I shouldn't use it like that, just, u-usually, when I'm in the field, I'm – literally out in a field, and there's n-not a lot to do, and I don't have my actual sketchbook. . .you really like them?"

"I do," Alice confirmed. She knew she should be emphasizing the whole "but you should draw them on your own time" angle, but. . .damn it, these were too amazing to condemn. "I've never met a lepidopterist in person before."

If Victor's eyes got any wider, they were going to fall right out of his head. "You – know the word? Nobody else in the station ever bothered. . ." He swallowed. "Emily and Victoria have always been nice about it, but I'm p-pretty sure Father doesn't approve. A-and the – the Andys. . ."

The look on his face said it all. "Don't get along with most of your coworkers?" Alice asked quietly. God, she knew about that all too well.

"L-like I said, Emily and Victoria are nice. . .b-but there was this – incident in Year 12, where I was dating both of them at once for a bit t-thanks to a misunderstanding, and it still – it still makes things a-awkward, sometimes," Victor confessed, rubbing the back of his head. "The rest of them, especially Hare and Mouse. . ." He sighed, staring at his shoes. "You know how, the night we first met, I was drunker than a s-skunk? That was them. Letting them drag me to the bar and get me plastered is – better than some of the o-other things they've done."

Righteous, protective anger flared up inside Alice. As if she didn't have enough reasons to dislike the branch of the service she'd been saddled with. "And you can't tell your father because they'll start crying nepotism."

Victor nodded. "N-not that I think he'd do anything anyway. He's always on about getting me out of my shell. He'd probably call it all 'just male bonding.'"

Certainly sounded like Chief Inspector William Genial-To-A-Fault Van Dort to her. "Well then – guess I came along at just the right time, didn't I?" she said, sitting up a little straighter. "Hopefully ragging on the new city girl on the block will keep them from bothering you for a while."

Victor bit his lip again. "I don't – you shouldn't h-have to take the brunt of it. Marchand and Dormand can be nasty if you get up their noses."

Alice gave him her most unpleasant grin. "They're going to be in for some nastiness themselves if they think they can intimidate me." She handed back his notebook and turned away, pretending not to notice the hero worship look had come back. "All right, back to work. What's next on today's list?"

[svubloods]

Imagine Danny convincing you to meet his family

(A/N: All I can say is sorry really...)

Imagine Danny convincing you to meet his family

“The answer is no,” You stated, your eyes not leaving the compeer screen though that didn’t stop you from detecting your partner Danny sidelining up to you and taking a seat on the edge of your desk.

“I haven’t even asked you anything, yet!” He defended.

“Empathises on the word, yet,” You commented.

“Just hear me out,” He began.

“I already don’t like the sound of this,” You breathed.

“Will you just listen?” He snapped.

“Will you?” You countered, “The answer is no,”

“But you don’t even know what I’m going to ask.” He insisted.

“I already know what you’re going to ask.” You sighed, “Now move your ass off my desk,”

“You didn’t have a problem with my ass last night.” He whispered, leaning down close to your ear so no one else in the busy bullpen could hear the two of you.

“Do I need to remind you where we are?” You whispered back to him.

“Do I need to remind you? This is a professional setting and I’m your partner. Most people listen to their partners. ” He accused straightening up.

“Most people don’t have you as a partner,” You smirked.

“So how do you know what I’m going you ask?” He inquired once again.

“Because I have the unfortunate pleasure of actually knowing you,” You commented, flashing him a fake devious smile.

“Hey, you know you love knowing me,” He smirked.

“I’d love you more if I didn’t know you,” You winked.

“I get that lot actually,” He chuckled.

“Aww Danny, you're easy to love… from afar, so now go afar.” You teased with some dramatic gesture to his desk.

“And you'll love me?” He countered.

“We will see,” You grinned.

Out of the corner your eye, you watched a grinning Danny slump happily in his chair. He leaned back still smiling until his expression suddenly changed and he sat back up. He must have remembered something.

“You did that thing again didn't you?” He accused.

“What thing?” You asked innocently.

“That thing you do that makes me forget what I'm going to say!” He stated.

“And how do I that?” You questioned.

“With that,” He elaborated, gesturing to your person.

“My face?” You offered, pointing at it.

He nodded.

“What’s wrong with my face?” You demanded.

“Nothing at all! It's just so…” He began without thinking before stopping himself and glancing around, “Distracting,”

You blushed, “I find your face distracting too.”

Danny smirked at you. You locked eyes with him. You watched his breathing hitch momentarily. And just for a second, it was like you were the only two people in the whole world. This was the closest you two could get at work. But at home? At home was a different story.

For now, though you had to settle for these stolen glances, you couldn’t have anyone at work finding out what was going on between you and your partner. And you were sure that when they did find out that it would be a big surprise to them. Let’s just say when that you and Danny didn’t get along when you first met. He missed his old partner and you resented the fact that your old precinct had been shut down and you were forced to change stations. Sure, technically you were promoted but that didn’t take away from fact that you had been separated from the only real family you had ever had.

So it was a given that you weren’t all too friendly when your partnership first began, which was about a year ago now. Plus Danny was typical Danny with the added angst of his partner leaving him. It was a tense, heated and argumentative start to your partnership, for sure. You think that the problem was that you were very similar but also vastly different. It leads to a lot of natural conflict between the two of you. But mostly because you were forced to, you stuck it out. Mutual distaste turned to mutual reluctant respect, then understanding and then somewhat of a friendship. A friendship made up purely of teasing and make of fun each other but a friendship. And despite the arguing when it came to it. You made a good team, you bounced off each other well and when it was required you were an unstoppable force together.

You think it was the teasing and bickering that made people assume that you didn’t like each other still but the people who were around you all the time knew that you did like each other on some level, though not enough to be in sort of relationship you were in now.

You don’t know when it happened. But you and Danny just bonded and became each other's best friend. He told you things that he couldn’t tell anyone else and you opened up about your life for the first time. Your arguments were still happening but now they were like ones of an old married couple and you were fiercely protective of each other. You always got defensive whenever anyone simply branded him as just a wild hothead and he, in turn, got the same way when people assumed that you were nothing more than a pretty face with no substance.

And once again you don’t when it happened but one day you just woke up and realized that you couldn’t help but want to be around him all the time. It was like your soul craved his presence and you were only truly content when he was by your side. You fell for him and you fell hard. Which in all honestly scared you, profusely so. You had never felt this way before about anyone, maybe because you had never let yourself ever get so close to someone.

You’d never been close to your own family. You moved out as soon as you could and never looked back. But you had always compensated with having really great friends but there just came to a point where you couldn’t let your fear of being in such bad environment again in terms of family stop you from doing what you wanted. And what you wanted was to be alive.

You never said anything about how you felt at first, finding it easy to hide or playoff your feelings but it became increasingly harder as you continued to stay mum. You found yourself despite how painful it was distancing yourself from him to the point of almost avoiding him. Because just being around him was growing hard. He confronted you about it, of course, but you couldn’t say anything and just ran. He eventually tracked you down at your favorite bar. You argued, you drank and ended up going home together.

You can still remember waking up with a  pounding headache but that didn’t even compare with the worry you were feeling, you thought it was all over. Like, just like everything else in your life you had ruined a good thing. But then Danny gave you that famous smirk and told you how he felt which just made it easier for you to do the same.

Though it wasn’t the start you had imagined for your romantic relationship. It wasn’t perfect, it was just like the two of you, imperfect, messy but exactly how it should be. That was around about five months ago now. And even at this point, only a few people knew that you were in a relationship even fewer knew that it was with each other. It was a secret from work as they hardly approved of partners dating but it wasn’t really a secret. You knew his family knew he was datings someone but they didn’t know who. Family was important to Danny and you knew this. So you appreciated how hard it was for him to balance respecting you and pleasing his family. They wanted to meet you in sense of you being Danny’s girlfriend even though they had met you as his partner.

It was just a different ballgame and you didn’t know how well you would be able to handle it especially due to your lack and bad experiences with family. Though even more important than that was the fact that they may not think that you were good enough for their son. You definitely thought it sometimes so why wouldn’t they?

Danny let out a heavy breath before leaning over his desk to yours. He motioned for you to flow suit. You leaned over your own desk towards his. Your face was inches apart but you weren’t worried as you knew everyone would just assume you were talking about a case.

“I wish I could kiss you right now,” He breathed, practically breathless and avoiding eye contact with you.

It was your turn to smirk this time. You licked your lips and sighed.

“You can make it up to me later,” You suggested.

“I’ll definitely take you up on that,” He grinned before his expression changed, “I need to focus. I wanted to ask you…”

“No,” You said again, “And no matter how much you beg or plead. The answer is always going to be no,”

“It’s going have to be yes eventually,” He countered.

“Why would ever say, yes?” You demanded, confused.

“Because you have to meet them eventually,” He clarified. “What are you talking about?” You asked, utterly lost at this point.

“What are you talking about?” He replied.

“You eating my sandwich,” You nodded.

“I already ate that babe,” He said before quickly changing the subject, “But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk you about,”

“You ate my sandwich?” You repeated, seeking clarification.

“Y/N!” He pleaded, trying to maintain focus.

“I told you not to eat it,” You muttered, distastefully.

“I want you to come to my Dad’s for Sunday lunch this weekend,” He finally let out.

You pulled away and sat back in your chair as soon as the words left his mouth. You took a deep breath as all that impending anxiety you had before just thinking about the prospect of meeting his family that had remained safely at the back of your mind flooded your senses as the idea became immediate with his question. You were already convinced that you would ruin it, you would make a bad impression, they wouldn’t think you were good enough and then everything would be ruined. Your relationship, your partnership.

You took another deep breath. And then you got up, pushing your chair back more forcefully than usual. You avoided Danny’s gaze and quickly span round, seeking escape. You headed for the file room. You just needed to compose yourself.

You let out a frustrated sigh as soon as you slipped into the empty room as you began pacing, trying to compose yourself. You knew this would come. Pull yourself together. It wasn’t like it was a surprise, everyone had to do this eventually when in a relationship. But you couldn’t distract yourself enough that you could go back out and agree to his request. Your mind was bombarded with the worst what ifs.

You just knew you weren’t good enough for him and you knew that they would see it.

“Y/N?” You heard Danny ask from behind you.

“Danny,” You let out shakily, rubbing your eyes in frustration as you trend around to face him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice soft as he reached out for your hand.

You saw as he quickly glanced back at the door as he was just making sure that he had locked it after he had come in. Which he had, so you knew he wasn’t going to hold back.

“It’s nothing,” You attempted to reassure.

“It isn't nothing,” He countered, pulling you close gently.

You were soon pressed comfortingly and comfortably against his body. His hands went to your face so you had to look him in the eye as he stroked your cheek and wiped away some spilled tears.

“What’s wrong?” He asked again, intimately.

“What if they don’t like me?” You sighed, wrapping your arms around me, “What if they don’t think I’m good enough for you? I know how close you are to them and I just don’t know how to deal with stuff like this, you know? I’ve never done this before Danny and what if I just mess up everything?”

“You aren’t going to ruin or mess up anything.” He reassured.

“You don’t know that.” You countered.

“I sort of do,” He chuckled, “You are a neurotic, control freak, perfectionist. You’d never let anything important go wrong,”

You hit him in the chest.

“That’s hardly going to make a good impression,” He smirked.

You couldn’t help but smile. You rested your head against his chest, hunching over slightly so he started to rub your back and kiss the top of your head.

“They already love you, you know?” He whispered.

“As your partner not as your girlfriend,” You sighed, looking up at him.

“They seemed pretty excited when I told them though,” He revealed.

“They know?” You questioned, your eyes widening.

“Well, I had to tell them who was coming to dinner.” He stated, “Be a bit weird if you just suddenly turned up since they already know you,”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You demanded.

“I just did,” He argued.

“That’s not what I meant,” You huffed.

“I know,” He sighed, smiling up at you, “I know you were nervous about it all so I thought I’d make it a bit easier for you. I relived some of the pressure,”

“Are they really excited?” You inquired, gently.

He nodded, “One because they already like you and secondly because they like how happy you make me,”

“They said that did they?” You smirked, unconvinced.

“It was implied,” He winked, “They actually said they just had to know how and why you to choose to cope with outside of work as well as inside,”

“Now that’s more believable,” You giggled.

“So what do you say?” He inquired, once again, “Will you come?”

You met his eyes once again and smiled. Giving him a firm nod. He just smiled as he pulled you in for a kiss, a smile playing on both of your lips.

“I love you, Y/N,” He breathed as you broke apart, resting your foreheads together, his hands sliding down your back.

You hadn’t expected him to say it. You felt the same way but were waiting for reassurance and here it was.This time it was your turn. You smiled at him and kissed him again, deeper this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and doing that thing he liked.

He was breathless when you broke apart that time. You smirked at him, pleased with yourself.

“Do I need to say it?” You asked, with fake innocence.

“I got the message,” He grinned, grabbing your hands and spinning you around and pushing you so you were backed up against a cabinet, “But I still just want to hear it.”

“I love you too,” You breathed honestly.

“Who doesn’t?” He joked.

You rolled your eyes as he pulled you in for another kiss and much more this time.

[pseudinymous]

Respite

Even after ten years, Danny and the Ghostwriter are still not exactly getting along...

Big thanks to @thehobblefootalchemist, who gave me the prompt for this piece.

The Ghostwriter was just sitting down to continue writing the second book in a series of novels when an unholy crash shuddered the very foundations of his house.

He ignored it and put a few more pen strokes down. After all, this was Amity Park.

Unfortunately the crashing seemed to continue. The pen was placed carefully upon the table after one of the windows nearly shattered, only to be bumped off by yet another earth-shaking thump. It felt like living in the pits of a battlefield — usually ghost fights didn’t get this bad, did they? Not that he ever participated in them enough to know. He understood exactly how weak he was and pushing that wasn’t a rabbit hole he wanted to fall into.

He opened the front door to find one Daniel Fenton wasted on the concrete outside. The ghost he’d tangled with was already flying off into the mid-morning sky, its need for violence apparently satiated by beating Amity Park’s ghost boy senseless.

Writer crept out of his house. They weren’t on the best of terms, yet. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m lying spread-eagle on the ground after a ghost mauled me. I’m fantastic.”

… Well, one thing was for sure. This Daniel Fenton certainly wasn’t an imposter.

He also didn’t seem particularly able to move — the man was staring up at the sky as if still quite dazed even though his speech didn’t slur, and Writer, in spite of himself, felt a mollusc of pity well up within his chest. “Do you want some help?”

Danny snorted his laughter and looked away. “As if I want help from you.”

The Ghostwriter looked around — there was no one else here. After a commotion like that most Amity Parkers would be hiding in their closets and trying their best not to be seen. At the very least, probably no one saw Danny get beaten into a pulp and then presumably lose grip on his ghost form. It might be better for everyone if his human form wasn’t found lying out to dry on the sidewalk sometime later.

“What are you doing?” Danny asked. Writer ignored the question and kept his pace up the driveway until he was standing over him, holding out a hand. “I said I don’t want your help.”

“Actually, you said ‘as if I want help from you’, which if you studied English a little harder in your school years, you would understand doesn’t quite literally mean as much as it implies. And in any case, I think we both realise your sister would have my head if I didn’t help you, and your head if you chose not to accept.”

Amity Park’s resident ghost boy glared at his equally miffed helper, but finally, with the air of someone expending great effort, reached up an arm. The Ghostwriter wasn’t sure, though, how much was actually great effort and how much was simple reluctance to be helped.

Danny was pulled to a standing position, but wobbled to the side just before Writer caught him.

“You might not want my help, but it’s fairly obvious you need it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Danny. He stumbled along as Writer guided him back down the driveway, up the stairs of the decking, and through the front door of the house. The front door of course was never opened — it was easier for the Ghostwriter to just haul the man in there intangibly, and considering Danny knew who he was and was himself quite used to intangible hijinks, it was the preferable method. “Thanks, I’ll be fine from here.”

The Ghostwriter let him go, and he collapsed in a heap on the lounge room floor.

“Mm. Yes. Fine, as you say.”

Danny glared, and had to be helped back up off the floor and hauled into the Spare Room.

There is a reason that the author, here, chose to use capital letters for the Spare Room. It wasn’t that the room itself was anything spectacular, no, but what was in the room was a different story entirely. Sure, it had a nice relaxing bed and a decent reading lamp, but one hardly needed any extra light with all of the strange glowing books, native Ghost Zone plants that were suspiciously potted and domesticated, and the downright off-putting ghostly fragments, smaller than the size of the tip of your nail, that seemed to go along with this. Danny got the most suspicious feeling that they were all somehow watching over the plants.

“Glad to see you drag Jazz into all of your creepy Ghost Zone shit,” Danny shot, even as the Ghostwriter carefully laid him down.

“I’m glad to see you’re willing to drag Jasmine into all of your dangerous ghost fights,” Writer shot back, glaring. “Mind explaining why you ended up on this side of town?”

“I don’t choose where the ghosts show up!” His voice was full of indignant rage from just having lost. “Anyway, that ghost wasted me! I tried to draw it away from here but it kept hooking me from behind!”

The Ghostwriter decided to leave that information where it was. “I assume you’d like some water?” he asked, skipping ahead.

Danny made a grunt that was taken as a vague form of acceptance. When the Ghostwriter returned with the glass, Danny took it without thanking him and almost threw three quarters of the liquid down his throat. The rest he splashed over his face. It was supposed to be a warm day today, Writer recalled.

“Where’s Jazz?”

“Shopping, I believe.”

“Good,” said Danny. Writer arched a brow. “Hey, you know what she’s like when she fusses.”

For the first time in their exchange the ghost cracked a genuinely amused smile. “Oh, I do. Now, mind if I leave you there and get back to my work?”

“I dunno, are these plants gonna eat me if you leave me alone in here?”

Writer shrugged. “No one’s died yet.”

“I feel so much safer,” said Danny, apparently unable to restrain his sarcastic tongue. The Ghostwriter ignored him, and left the room.

***

Writing this book was very much like attempting to restrain a lion. Difficult, messy, and if you were very unlucky it was dangerous — if only in terms of sanity. It also meant that breaks were frequent and frustration always imminent on the edge of the swimming pool that was his mind. The Ghostwriter sighed, put the pen down (this time it did not rattle its way onto the floor), closed his eyes, and tried to think.

“Those books are weirder than the plants.”

Writer’s head shot up — it seemed Danny’s exceedingly quick natural healing cycle had reinvigorated him enough to peel himself off that bed, and he seemed to be balancing rather well too for someone who’d just been so knocked around.

“They do tend to have minds of their own,” Writer agreed, quickly flipping closed his notebook, but trying to leave out just enough urgency that the other wouldn’t get curious enough to read it. “You seem to have recovered quite well.”

Danny just seemed to shrug oddly. “Yeah, I guess.”

“No ‘thank-you’?”

Silence. Obviously that was too much to ask. The Ghostwriter let out a heavy sigh and began tying all of his nice pens together with a rubber band. Danny had been more than just irritated when he found out just who Jazz was getting so friendly with, and when they’d eventually decided to go out with each other and live together, Danny had nearly exploded.

It had been a quiet explosion, of course. Precious few others knew Writer was a ghost, and anyone who didn’t know was under the keyboard’s spell; they simply didn’t notice the grey, glowing skin, the luminescent green eyes, the teeth. They could look at it all day and they would never be the wiser, for that was how his keyboard worked — he typed in a command, and reality changed to suit.

“I see you’re still upset with me.”

The direct query seemed to catch Danny off-guard. “I— but— you…” he stumbled, before collecting himself. “Dude, you’re a ghost. And you’re going out with my perfectly normal, perfectly human sister. It’s weird.”

“I’ll admit to it being unorthodox.” Writer found his arms crossing, and his muscles getting tight. Being questioned on his life — or perhaps post-life choices was one of his least favourite activities, and he’d already had enough teasing from Randy to last into the next century. “But that’s between Jasmine and I.”

“Sure it wasn’t just you?”

The words came out with just as much accusation as they implied. Danny had found himself taking a step forward, falling — out of habit — into an almost aggressive stance. Like a challenge. The Ghostwriter decided to play his game, and stared him right in the eyes.

“I never intended for any of this to happen the way it did, but I assure you the feeling was mutual. And with all of that amateur surveillance you did—“ Danny’s face twisted to abject horror. “—Yes, I do know about that, you should know by now that I hold the utmost respect for your sister. Is this how you would treat me if I were human?”

Danny grunted some noncommittal answer or another. The Ghostwriter’s frown grew as he stood from his chair, book and tied-up pens in hand.

“Mm. I see how it is, ghost boy.”

“Don’t call me that!”

Writer shrugged. “Well, I’ll admit to you not being a boy anymore, but you most certainly are — at least in part — a ghost. Perhaps you should use that knowledge to enhance your perspective.”

Oh yes. And there was the huff, the turn away — for an adult he certainly remained well within the throes of teenager-hood. The Ghostwriter found that the best strategy was simply to ignore him and continue going about his business. In this case, that involved carefully putting away his writing equipment in a draw and wandering over to the kitchen to make lunch. Jazz would be home soon. Danny ‘settled’ into a chair, face sour, arms crossed, and generally looking rather miserable.

“Since when do ghosts eat?” Danny shot, as Writer pulled some ingredients out of the cupboard.

“They don’t. Your sister however does, and since I don’t have any sort of job the least I can do is make some meals for her.”

“Mm. Okay.”

The Ghostwriter didn’t argue, because “Mm. Okay.” was probably the most positive response he’d gotten out of the half ghost all morning. He continued on with what he was doing: Sandwiches. Sandwiches were easy, and easy was important when your cooking skills were subpar at best and unable to be supplemented with a sense of taste.

“It’s weird watching a ghost look so domestic.”

Writer kept cutting up the carrot as he spoke. “No more strange than watching a human turn into a ghost and vice-versa, I assure you.”

“…Eh. I guess not.”

The sandwiches came together into little sets of four. There was chicken, lettuce, tomato, salad onion, and cucumber in there, with a bit of salt and pepper for good measure. Hard to mess that up, right? You just put equal amounts of each ingredient in except for the onion, which you went easy on. He could do Rules. He just couldn’t do anything that required taste testing to get right. At the end he had four sets; two went on one plate, two went on another.

“Eat.”

Danny looked up to the sandwiches as if they were about to attack him. Just… really? The Ghostwriter thought? This reaction still, even when he was obviously trying to be civil? He was willing to give having a neutral relationship with Jazz’s brother a go, but his stubborn demeanour made it all the more difficult. A slight of anger whipped around in his stomach, and he quelled it.

“It’s lunchtime and you’ve been mauled. Take it, or I’ll type on my keyboard that you did so whether you wanted to or not,” said the Ghostwriter, frown increasing with the seriousness of his expression.

Danny was still suspicious. “Is this forced care?”

“I understand what you’re like. And I also understand what Jasmine would be like if she found out I didn’t look after you properly after a ghost fight. So I suppose the answer to your question is yes.”

There was a ginger way he took the plate, before finally he cracked one of the first smiles Writer had ever seen on him. There was even a genuine laugh. Writer found one of his eyebrows cocked, unable not to show the scepticism he was feeling.

“No, just—“ Danny stuttered. “I mean, I guess Jazz would lecture you endlessly about needing to nurse me back to health, or something.” He took a bite, screwing up his brow as he did, though not telling the Ghostwriter why. “As if I need nursing when I can heal like this.

“Nursing present or not, you still need energy from something,” said Writer, turning on his heel and returning to the kitchen counter. “Human bodies are unforgiving, that way.”

Danny paused halfway through a mouthful, thought about this, and swallowed. “How do ghosts get more energy, anyway? I mean, it’s gotta come from somewhere, right? Or doesn’t anyone know?”

The Ghostwriter had picked up the knife to go and wash it, but slowly put it back down as his curiosity about this question piqued. “We absorb ambient ectoplasm from the air. Obviously it’s not so plentiful in the Real World, but that’s one of the reasons I revisit the Ghost Zone every so often. Doesn’t your ghost half require some similar type of nutrition?”

A shrug. “… Not really, I just eat and sleep, then I’m fine.”

Writer found himself frowning. “Isn’t that curious?”

“Is it really?”

“Mm. It’s just another impossibility about you, really.”

In the absence of any further comment he went back to dealing with the dishes — much as he disliked them he didn’t really want to leave them all to Jazz, not when she’d had such a busy week and this was her only day off.

“I gotta get out of here before Jazz gets back,” said Danny, suddenly, having finished the sandwich. In a surprising gesture of politeness he brought the empty plate to the kitchen and placed it neatly by the sink. “She’ll start, y’know… fussing.”

The ghost gave a sagely nod in reply. “If being coddled after injury isn’t your thing, then I can’t imagine this will be a fun place for you very soon.”

The Ghostwriter washed the plate as Danny gathered his things together. And if Writer hadn’t been listening for them, the words would have been so quiet that he’d have missed them: “Hey… thanks,” said Danny, as he slipped out the door.

After a few seconds of it sinking into his mind, the Ghostwriter laughed. It was in a way that was perhaps a little self-satisfied. And then he drained the water and sat in wait for The Great Fusser of Things to arrive home.

[cinephiled-com]

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New Post has been published on https://www.cinephiled.com/interview-the-creators-of-skin-the-history-of-nudity-in-the-movies-bare-all-in-new-documentary/

Interview: The Creators of ‘Skin: The History of Nudity in the Movies’ Bare All in New Documentary

From the moment the first motion picture camera was invented, there has been nudity in the movies. Even in the earliest days of this new art form, filmmakers delighted in exploring the human body and audiences were riveted by scenes of nudity on the screen. This comprehensive and fascinating new documentary begins with the silent era and continues through the present day, looking at changes in morality and sensibilities while examining the political, sociological, and artistic changes that shaped this rich history. 

Skin: The History of Nudity in the Movies also delves into the gender bias surrounding nudity in motion pictures. It looks at the surprisingly relaxed attitude towards nudity in pre-code Hollywood, the period of censorship that was designed to “clean up” the industry, and how the powerful MPAA ratings system was formed to help the industry police itself (and avoid outside intervention). The documentary also addresses the impact of the more recent #metoo movement on nude scenes in movies today. I spoke with Danny Wolf, the director of this fascinating doc, and Jim McBride, the co-executive producer who, as “Mr. Skin,” has run a website for the past 21 years that documents nudity in the movies.

Danny Miller: As far as I’m concerned, this is the perfect film for the pandemic — who wouldn’t be interested in this topic? Being a classic movie lover, I really enjoyed the material about the early days of the movies before censorship really took hold. I think this film might cause a wild increase in sales for Cecil B. DeMille’s The Sign of the Cross from 1932 starring Fredric March, Claudette Colbert, and Fredric March. Wow, who knew? I never dreamed there would be that much nudity in a DeMille film from a major studio! 

Danny Wolf (with Eric Roberts)

Danny Wolf: That was the best part about making this film — researching those movies from the twenties and thirties. I hadn’t seen most of them so I had a lot of catching up to do, from the earliest ones up through the infamous Caligula and beyond. I learned so much. I especially hadn’t realized the extent of nudity in the movies in those early days. I love all those pre-Code movies. I still haven’t been able to find the complete version of The Sign of the Cross but that’s on my list!

Jim, I know you’ve been following this topic for many years on your website. Did you have a big hand in the organization of the film into distinct eras? 

Jim McBride

Jim McBride: Yes, in my role as one of the executive producers, I definitely had some input. My website just had its 21stanniversary, I can’t believe I’ve been working in this field for that long, so I do have a pretty good background on the subject. Of course, what I do on my site and what this film is about are really two completely different things. The hardest thing was to narrow it down to a two-hour documentary. We had to decide on the pivotal moments in the history of nudity in the movies. It took a team approach, with me, our other Executive Producer, Paul Fishbein, and our director, Danny. We’re all film buffs and I hope that will come across to everyone who watches this documentary — we really love movies. 

Mariel Hemingway

I think the film is very well organized and the mix of interview subjects is just fantastic. I loved seeing the range of people you talked to, from some who were mostly known for appearing nude in the movies to directors like Peter Bogdanovich, Amy Heckerling, Kevin Smith, and Martha Coolidge and stars like Malcolm McDowell, Pam Grier, Eric Roberts, and Sean Young, among others. To be honest, I was surprised to see some of them, like Mariel Hemingway, who’s such a delight in the film. I didn’t think she’d be that open to talking about this topic. 

Danny Wolf: We were so happy to have her because she was in two important films that are discussed: Personal Best and Star 80, and of course, she had quite a different look in both films. She even talked about the whole issue that was so big at the time about whether she got breast augmentations just to play Dorothy Stratten in Star 80. Mariel and Eric Roberts both talk about that.

Another surprise was hearing from Ken Davitian about his experience in Borat.

We were very happy to have him discussing his crazy scene from that film. Nudity in movies was never limited to just women or to people with a certain body type. 

Malcom McDowell must have been a blast to talk to. I could listen to his stories about moviemaking all day long. 

That was the most fun interview you can ever do. He’s such a great storyteller and you just hang onto every word he says. I interviewed him about Clockwork Orange for another documentary I did but hearing his firsthand stories about Caligula was just great. There could be a whole documentary just on that one film, that’s how much lore there is about it!

Malcolm McDowell and Helen Mirren in Caligula

Honestly, there should be. I remember seeing that movie as a teenager and it was such a huge deal. Truly awful but you felt that underneath all of that gratuitous sex and nudity lurked a really good movie, especially with that cast. McDowell’s stories about John Gielgud on that set were hilarious but it also had Peter O’Toole and Helen Mirren — just crazy! It was interesting to learn in your film how Bob Guccione was responsible for turning that film into the sex-fest that it became. 

Jim McBride: Yes, and there’s talk that Tinto Brass is helping with a re-edit that will show more of what the film was originally intended to be! I’m sure they’ll be getting rid of many of the lurid scenes that Guccione shot at two and three in the morning!

Mamie Van Doren

It was moving to see the late Sylvia Miles in her last on-camera interview, and I loved hearing from Mamie Van Doren. I always thought she was so comfortable with her sex kitten image, I was surprised to hear her talk about how reluctant she was to do nude scenes in movies. 

Danny Wolf: Yeah, there were obviously certain people we had to cover in the film, and that included the trio of Marilyn Monroe, Jayne Mansfield, and Mamie Van Doren who, in some respects, went on to carry both Marilyn and Jayne’s torches. Marilyn had done a nude scene in Something’s Gotta Give in 1963, the movie that was never completed before her death, and Jayne had appeared nude in Promises! Promises! that same year which was a huge deal. The first mainstream star to appear in the nude in an American film! And then Mamie comes out in Three Nuts in a Search of a Bolt. Those movies just changed everything in terms of having stars willing to appear nude. 

Jim McBride: We talk about the infamous Hays Code that was in full force by the mid-1930s. Before that, there were all these crazy movies with all sorts of nudity but that came crashing to and end when the Hays Code went into effect. That lasted for decades. But these movies with Monroe, Mansfield, and Van Doren finally killed that level of censorship in the 1960s once and for all. And kicked off the modern era of celebrity nudity. 

Linda Blair

It’s also interesting to watch this film through the lens of the #metoo movement and our changing sensibilities. It’s hard not to cringe when hearing from some of the actresses who worked in the 70s and 80s who felt so pressured to do nude scenes even if they weren’t comfortable doing them and hadn’t agreed to. It was poignant hearing from Linda Blair in the documentary and how she was kind of ambushed into doing nudity in her career. 

Danny Wolf: Yes, she definitely felt pressured to do things that she didn’t sign up for. And she was basically told she’d destroy the film if she didn’t do what they asked. There was a lot of stuff like that in the 70s and 80s. We talked to actresses who signed on for scripts in which there was no nudity and then suddenly word would come down on the set that they had to add a certain number of nude scenes. They almost always felt that they had to do it whether they liked it or not. If they refused, they were told that they were holding up production and hurting the distribution of the film. And many felt that if they didn’t agree, that would be the end of their career. 

Awful. Thank God things have changed to a large extent, and probably a big part of that is having more women directors and women in other positions of power. 

Absolutely. 

And, speaking of “celebrity nudity,” now it seems so normal to see nudity on the biggest, most popular TV shows. 

Jim McBride: Yes. Back when I launched my website in 1999, I think there were something like 25 TV shows that had any nudity at all. You know, a few scenes in Sex and the City and other shows of that type. When we looked at that last year, we found 144 television shows across many different platforms including Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon. I truly believe we’re in the golden age of nudity! It’s no longer a big deal when you’re watching a show or a movie on these networks. And that includes male nudity, too, which was certainly not the case in the 60s and 70s. I think we’re finally getting rid of that double standard.

Right. I remember the days when you could show women completely naked and still get an R rating but if anyone flashed a penis, God forbid, it was an automatic X rating. 

That’s right. And that again goes back to the fact that in those days, most directors, producers, writers were men. And that has changed as well, thank goodness. Look at a show like Game of Thrones. Lots of female nudity, yes, but a huge amount of male nudity, too.

Well, there’s so much in this film that is food for thought about our changing world. And more people you talk to that we haven’t even discussed like Pam Grier — I would have been happy with two hours of just her talking about her memories of making movies!

Danny Wolf: Me, too, she is fantastic!

Skin: The History of Nudity in the Movies is currently available on demand.