#every other time I tried the screen was black the whole time </3

[fuctacles]

Tying the knots

For @subeddieweek Day 6 | M | 2162 | established relationship, bondage, non sexual intimacy, subspace, switching, fluff, they are in love | divider by @saradika-graphics | Ao3 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Ao3

Steve tries to look at the screen Eddie has shoved in his face. Literally. He sighs, pushes his hand away, and takes the phone to scroll through the pictures himself. It's a week's worth of photos Eddie's been saving, scavenging the web to find those he thought might convince Steve to try the new thing.

Steve looks through the photos of models, their chests, arms and thighs wrapped in rope. He imagines similar stuff in their bedroom, and mulls over how to word his opinion. Wonders, with a pang of fear, if Eddie would want to try this with someone else instead, if Steve says 'no'.

He sighs.

"You know I don't feel comfortable with this," he says finally, knowing honesty is the best way to go at the end of the day. "I trust you completely, but I wouldn't even let Robin tie me up. Hell, I almost got a panic attack just getting an x-ray the other day."

Eddie lays his hand on top of his, where he holds the now locked phone.

"Darling, I'd never do that to you," he assures. "I meant myself."

Steve frowns, confused.

"What?"

Eddie squeezes his hand.

"I want you to tie me up."

Steve's mind blanks. This was flipping the script on their bedroom activities completely. He's at a loss of words yet again. He opens his mouth and frowns.

"But you don't like bottoming." They tried it, of course, but figured out fast the dynamic that worked for them best.

At his astute observation, Eddie's soft expression sharpens into a dark smirk.

"Who said anything about bottoming? Silly boy, you think I'll let you? With that tiny dick of yours?"

Steve's breath hitches.

"No, I want you to tie me up and ride me like a toy." His tone loses momentum, and turns softer and hesitant. Thinking back, Steve's been seeing this side of him more often lately. Lining in time with his confession that he 'wanted to try something new.'

Steve looks at his boyfriend. Truly looks at him, at the reddened cheeks, the dark pupils, the nervous picking on his nail polish.

"It's not about the bondage, is it?" he asks. "You want to try subbing."

Eddie nods in affirmation.

"Holy shit," Steve breathes out, the realization squeezing his throat.

"I know it's a big change," Eddie says. "But just think about it. We don't have to ever come back to this if you decide you're not interested, but the offer will be open if you ever want to try."

They maintain eye contact for a long while. The time stretches but all they see is trust and love, so Steve brings their joined hands to his lips to presses a kiss against Eddie's knuckles. 

"I'll think about it," he promises.

"That's all I ask."

Two weeks pass without mention of that conversation, which Eddie assumes is a 'no' from Steve. He's okay with that. The whole allure was to do it with him, and if he's not comfortable with it, then neither is Eddie.

The setting is the same, as every weekend - an afternoon to unwind with take-out and mindless TV watching after cleaning up their tiny apartment. This time, it's Steve who shoves his phone towards him.

"Which color do you like?"

"Huh?" It takes his eyes a moment to focus on the screen, and he takes a surprised breath when he recognizes what he's looking at. 

Colorful bundles of shibari ropes.

"Classic black?" Steve muses, like it's not a big deal to drop his answer in such a way, out of the blue. "They have this dark red that would look great on your skin, I think. Or we could go with the classic twine color," he wonders out loud, scrolling with his thumb with the phone angled so both of them could see. Not that Eddie cares much for what's on the screen. He has more important things right in front of his eyes.

"I love you so much," he whispers, taking Steve by surprise. He looks up into his boyfriend's huge eyes.

"I love you too," he says back, capturing his lips in a quick kiss. "But please focus, they have a sale that ends at midnight."

They go with the twine after all. Eddie said it would make fantasy kidnapping roleplay more authentic. Steve lovingly smacked him about it.

He can tell Steve is nervous. Eddie's sitting there, cool as a cucumber in his favorite house loungewear (linen pants and an old Metallica shirt), while Steve keeps getting up and fidgeting. He gets up to get scissors, then to get water, and then decides some snacks are in order. Eddie chews on a cashew, observing him. 

"You don't have to do this," he reiterates for the umpteenth time. "I can tie my legs myself or something. A simple harness should be doable too..."

"No!" Steve protests immediately. "You trusted me and I'm doing this, I'm just...." He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I'm just worried something will go wrong."

Eddie sighs. 

"Baby," he says gently, crawling forward on the bed. "That's what scissors and safewords are for. We'll be fine." He gently touches his hand where he's digging his fingers into the duvet. "And if we don't like it, I'll just use the rope for the next LARP. It's not a big deal," he reminds him, squeezing his hand. "Just something new we're trying out. No pressure, no expectations. It either works out or it doesn't. Like a new recipe. Alright?"

Steve moves his hand from underneath his to lace their fingers together.

"Alright. Just let me watch the tutorial one more time."

Eddie rolls his eyes lovingly.

"Of course, darling."

He leans on his shoulder and together they watch a professional rigger demonstrate the knots on a consenting mannequin. Steve is holding the rope in his hands, mirroring the movements shown in the video. Halfway through though, he sighs and pauses it. 

"You're distracting me," he says, turning to the left, where Eddie's head is.

"I'm literally just sitting here!" Eddie protests, moving away from his shoulder.

"Yes, and it's very distracting!" He sighs again. "Let's just do this."

"Okay," Eddie agrees quickly, unable to contain his excitement. He scrambles to the center of the mattress. "This alright?" he asks. Steve's eyes roam down his form.

"I guess so."

With this said, he walks on his knees up to his boyfriend and throws the rope over his neck. He uses it to pull him forward, making Eddie giggle in surprise. He presses a kiss to his smiling lips. 

"What's your safeword?"

"Demogorgon" Eddie answers in a heartbeat. 

They are just practicing today but that doesn't mean Steve would take it any less seriously than an actual scene. Even with a third guy present, speaking from a YouTube tutorial. Steve checks with it every couple of knots to make sure he's doing them right. Other than that, and the soft ambient music he had put on, the room is quiet. Just their breathing, the slide of the rope, and a quiet exchange of 'Alright? - Yes.' now and then. 

He gets lost in the methodical movements, in making the ties just right, and it takes him a moment to realize it's become too quiet.

"Eddie?" He looks up from his own hands to his boyfriend and finds his blown-out eyes staring back at him. "Are you okay?"

"Golden," he slurs back, giving him a wobbly smile.

Steve sits up with a worried frown.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks.

"Don't you dare," Eddie tries to growl, but it comes out slurred and whiny. He sighs, letting whatever he's feeling right now take over. "Feels good. Like a hug. I trust you, Stevie," he says, closing his eyes to drift away into bliss.

Steve feels his chest swell close to bursting. He wonders if Eddie feels the same when he hands himself over to him.

He leans down to press a kiss to his sternum, near the center of the rope harness.

"I love you."

Eddie makes a sound deep in his throat that is probably meant to mean 'I love you too'.

Steve moves to kiss his temple next.

"I'm almost done, just finishing up," he informs Eddie before going back to the rope. This time he focuses less on the task itself, and more on the body under his hands. On Eddie's steady breath, even and shallow like he's falling asleep. On the calm beat of his heart. He lets his fingers linger when checking the give of the rope, when threading and looping it, and turns it into a caress of his lover's body.

Once he's done, he trails his hands along the rope, from his shoulders, through his hips, to his thighs.

"All wrapped up, baby," he announces, and Eddie's eyelashes flutter open. 

He's looking at Steve, but like he's seeing him through a window from another dimension. With a thrill, Steve realizes he's put his boyfriend in subspace. Feeling the heavy weight of responsibility, he reaches out to cup his cheek and caresses it softly with his thumb.

"What do you need?" he asks. 

Eddie licks his lips before he can speak. 

"You. Kiss me?" he asks.

"Of course, baby. Anything." Steve leans down to pepper kisses all over not only his lips, but his whole face, his exposed collarbone, every inch of clothed and unclothed skin peeking from between the rope, like his body is an altar to pray on. Eddie sighs at the attention, melting into it. When there is no skin left unkissed, Steve wraps himself around him and they cuddle, until Eddie comes back enough to request they watch something.

He refuses to be untied until he's seen two episodes of Hell's Kitchen and got hand-fed broken-off pieces of a granola bar. And even then he agrees to it reluctantly, only when he starts yawning and Steve points out to him there's no way he's going to sleep tied up.

It goes faster than the tying process, but Steve doesn't rush it. He rubs gently every patch of reddened skin he uncovers and kisses it gently. Eddie goes quiet again under his ministrations, but nowhere as far as before. Soon, the rope is put aside in loose coils, and they're staring at each other, Steve rubbing absentmindedly at his thigh.

"Did you like it?" Eddie asks, trying to sound casual. Steve knows he's eager for an answer, though. 

"I know you love me," he starts, making Eddie tilt his head curiously. "But this made me feel it. Like, there was no doubt in my mind, for even a second, that you're ridiculously in love with me."

"Fuck," Eddie groans, startling Steve. But before he can ask what's wrong, Eddie's pulling him in and leaning back, so he has to hover over him. "I just wanted to be pampered a bit. Switch up our crazy hot sex to be even crazier and hotter. And you pull this shit on me. Of course you do," he rolls his eyes fondly.

Steve scrunches his eyebrows. 

"I'm... sorry?" he offers.

"Don't. No. Shut up." Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and breathes through his nose like he's overwhelmed. When he opens them back, they are shiny and wet. 

"Eddie..."

"Marry me," Eddie interrupts him in a single breath.

To say he's taken aback would be an understatement.

"What?" he says like it's punched out of him.

Eddie's face hardens with determination.

"You're it for me, Steve. I trust you to take care of me and I'll take care of you right back. What do you say?"

Steve chuckles wetly, begging his tears not to start spilling onto his future husband.

"What? No ring?" he jokes.

"Hold up." Eddie turns between his arms and scoots on the bed to reach the bedside where a trinket dish full of his rings has a permanent residence. He fishes one out and straightens up, kneeling on the bed. 

Steve sits up, watching him with wide eyes.

"Steve. Will you marry me?"

The ring is smaller than his signature ones, a silver band with an engraved rose, its thorny stem weaving along the length. Steve doesn't recognize it, and he's become quite intimate with Eddie's collection.

"Did you hide an engagement ring in your trinket dish?" he asks incredulously. 

A blush rises to Eddie's cheeks.

"I've been thinking about it for a while, okay?" he explains defensively. "I thought if I didn't go for a pretentious diamond and forego the box and fancy dinner it would make it less scary, will you please fucking answer?" he blurts out. 

Steve laughs, and this time lets the tears fall freely.

"Of course I will marry you, you fucking idiot."

He grabs Eddie's face and pulls him into a kiss. The ring falls somewhere into the sheets but they'll retrieve it later, once satisfied with the number of kisses exchanged between the freshly committed fiancés. 

[bahrtofane]

i dont want to leave

-----

When Jude finds himself slipping from your life. He chooses to leave it completely, for your sake. 

Jude x reader 

Word count - 700+

Watch it - angst angst and angst 

-----

Judes first appearance to your modest little apartment in months turns into him begging and pleading for you to find someone better. 

Someone who doesn't make you wait all day for a reply, someone who isnt in 3 time zones in one day, someone who has time.

Jude has many things, many luxuries and commodities that fill his home and surround his daily life. Fame and fortune that follow him, recognition. Riches.  

Time is not one of them. between games just about every other day, events and press appearances, media days and content recording. He is exhausting every second of his day.

He knows he's not making enough time for you. And now he's begging for you to move on  

Sitting cross legged on your couch, in red and black plaid pj pants and a hoodie he grabbed from his hamper. He made his way to you as soon as he could. Even if it meant after doing a virtual interview from his room, he grabbed his wallet and keys, sprinting out the door.

“Please…” he tries again. His eyes droop and he can not pick them up to face you. Can not meet your gaze. His eye bags look horrid and his skin is taking on a sickly sheen you saw last when he came down with the flu. 

You shake your head, “Jude. listen to what you're saying. You want me to leave because you're busy?”

“I'm saying I'm not good to or for you. I'm never around. I barely reply. I forget things. I never know what you're up to or what's going on. Im shit. And you don't deserve that.” he tries again, keeping his head down and picking at his nails. 

“But I love you. Busy or not.” you sigh.

“And I love you. So much that you have to let me go.” 

“I don't want to leave you,” you cross your arms.

He rubs his eyes. Its been back and forth like this for what feels like an hour now. This will get nowhere if he simply lets this continue. 

He slides a leg from under him, swinging it against your couch, “then I will.”

Your face morphs into one of pain, but he knows you can't keep living like this. He can't keep making false promises and hurting you. No matter how many times you say it's okay. He was late to your birthday for fucks sake. He doesn't know your friends names, do you even still watch that show? He's losing who you are and it's no one's fault but his own. 

He scoots to you, gently taking your hands in his, “I know you'll find someone who treats you the way you need. And I'm sorry I couldn't.”

Tears begin to swell in your eyes, lip trembling as you shake your head, “you can't,” you cry out weakly. But it's too late. 

“I'm sorry,” he whispers, getting up from his seat and gently closing the door behind him, with a little too much force than intended.

The little framed picture of the two of you that hangs on the wall next to the door shakes and wobbles. It only makes you cry harder. 

You remember that day. He took you to the fair, buying you all the stupid food you could ever want. (the deep fried ice cream gave you a run for your money in the bathroom). He won every prize at those silly games. Even if it took him 50 tries and a whole lotta cash to do so. 

There was a little man walking around with a polaroid camera. A sign reading “$2 for a picture” painted in bright green lettering hanging from an old withered string around his neck.

You took 4. 

Your favorite, the one on the wall, stares back at you mockingly. Hands held together while your heads are thrown back, soft yellow and pink light from the ferris wheel behind you painting your faces. You'll need to take that down you suppose.

You want to scream, but instead only tears fall. Can he see he's the one that's meant for you? Busy or not, forgetful, tired, moody, cranky. You love him through it all. Can he see that?

You try to call him, blinking away the tears as you fish your phone from your pocket.  Pressing on the screen harshly and putting it on speaker, but they all go to voicemail. You suppose that's that.

His first visit in months. And he's never coming back. 

[rockyteriyaki]

TEAM BUILDING ACTIVITIES 👯

s/o to @powerful-owl for starting this meme and @disarmd for the insanely funny contribution, it’s such a delightful thought exercise! here’s my attempt:

MASCOTS!

american sports have hella mascots, so every team is tasked to create a marketable mascot that could represent them for u.s fans. they also have to build a little model to pitch the concept. there’s the williams whale sharks. the aston martin martinis. lando and oscar devise a walking papaya named penny who looks so much like a vulva oscar backs out almost instantly.

GUESS THE GRID based on clothing choices: drivers assemble an outfit they’d wear and then everyone else tries to guess who picked what. the catch is that the f1a girls did the same challenge and their answers are mixed in as well. everybody thinks doriane’s mercedes-themed picks are george’s and maya gets confused for charles even though there’s no ferrari branding to be seen. chloe’s picked a haas cap with a black skirt and we watch nico hulkenberg go through every emotion known to man trying to figure out why kevin would—???

(meanwhile the academy grid is absolutely ripping everybody’s style choices to shreds, accusing hamda of being the most basic bitch on the planet bc max chose to wear basketball shorts, etc)

PADDOCK SCAVENGER HUNT

5 teams are in on it and the other 5 can’t know what’s going on, otherwise they lose points. charles pretends that he’s too tired to walk when pierre catches him searching the top of a cabinet on carlos’ shoulders. oscar distracts williams while lando tries to get a picture of logan with red, white and blue objects in the background. yuki gets stranded on top of the rbr motorhome because daniel won’t stop using him for reconnaissance and the whole thing gets called off because max sees them squabbling on the roof and thinks the rapture has arrived.

GEORGE AND ALEX MAKE GRAPHICS

ib george’s natural talent for graphic design. the audience gets to see what a communications team actually does in motorsport (educational!) and george and alex get free reign of the entire library of press photos of eachother. george is hunting for a terrible picture of alex to edit onto a podium but ends up having a very verbal crisis about how none of the pap shots are appropriately bad and then spends the next half an hour digging himself into theeee deepest hole talking about how it’s just not as FUNNY if alex looks TOO GOOD on the podium! it would be UNFAIR! alex is squirming and trying to remember where tf he was planning on going with this zoomed-in great-gatsby-esque picture of george’s eyelids on his screen right now. george silently edits alex’s teeth out of his mouth and tries to erase the fact that he just called alex handsome like 47 times.

MARIO KART SIM RACING

im talking full immersion. sherbet land is ice fucking cold. every time they drive over some kind of giant clock or railroad or something the sim porpoises like a jackhammer. someone is standing behind them with a full tank of water for the splash sections. there’s a legitimate epilepsy warning at the start of the video. bowser puts the fear of god into lando norris.

MAX AND DANIEL DO TEMPORARY TATTOOS

i’m hesitant to allow them access to a bowl of water but i have an extremely clear vision of daniel slapping tats all over the blank spaces on his skin to the point where they overlap and he’s just got shiny plasticky tattoo skin everywhere. max would find this unappealing and also stupid until he realizes all the fake tattoos on his side of the table are replicas of daniel’s actual ones. cut to: daniel with a snake tattoo stuck in his eyebrow hairs hiking his shorts up so max can mirror the placement on his own inner thigh. daniel resembling a concussed post malone, watching max’s careful application of the ‘3’ tattoo. max does a horrible aussie accent and daniel looks like a chimpanzee seeing its own reflection for the first time. cinema.

[ohmymalice]

Lackluster Tendencies

jschlatt x f!reader | 674 words ! | part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

high school au, sfw, "You don't seem to be the person I thought you'd be."

ALSO A QUICK NOTE BECAUSE I THINK THIS MIGHT BE CONFUSING!! I refer to Schlatt as Jay for his real name and Schlatt is his online username. His friends online call him Schlatt and friends in school call him Jay.

(blue text is schlatt grey is y/n)

He worried a little, thinking that maybe he used his little internet persona humor way too early into this friendship they had. The ringing of his phone filled his ears, the white screen suddenly faded into black and showed her name.

Y/n is calling... Pick up?

He lets it ring for a few seconds and picks up, his hands sweating a little.

"So when did you become a jackass?" she asked, teasing him for the unexpected response. "Always been one, just hid it well." She scoffed at his reply.

There was an awkward silence on the line, and before he could think, his mouth starts running before he could even make an effort to stop

"I didn't expect you to be this way," he mumbled out, fiddling with the phone in his hand.

"In what way?"

"Like- like.. all the cussing and shit, I thought you were just some pretty girl with an innocent face who seemed to be friends with everyone."

She snorted in response, chuckling. "So you thought I was just some girl with a pretty face?"

"Yes- fuck, I mean- I just didn't expect that you could be nice to someone like me, I guess? I didn't think you were an asshole or anythin' I just-"

"Thought I was one of those biased popular bitches who were only nice to other popular people?"

"Yeah, maybe it was a harsh assumption."

"Harsh but fair, and honestly? If we're talking about first impressions, I thought you were some quiet kid at the back of the class who might've turned out a school shooter if nobody talked to them."

Schlatt's jaw hung open, not expecting a joke like that to come out of her mouth. He just started laughing.

"THAT, that is what I mean by I don't expect you to be that way."

"Well, you're one of the first to know, congrats. I don't have a lot of close friends, friends yeah but anyone I hang around consistently? Not at all." Schlatt hummed in reply, getting the gist of things.

"I don't have as many friends as you, but I do get the whole, uh- the whole thing about not having a lot of close friends. I thought you had tons of friends, just assumed I didn't get to see you a lot, so I didn't get to see who you hung around a lot with either."

On the other line, the girl shook her head, giggling. Oh,  how wrong he was.

"I'd try to be close to the people I know but sometimes it's just draining, especially with my whole drama club stuff... and to be honest-" She trailed off, taking in a breath as she held the phone in between her shoulder and cheek.

"Shit- I don't even know how to put it into to words." She mumbled, he stayed quiet on the line, scared if he tried to say anything it would just make her feel worse.

"I guess I feel like not a lot of people would get me or like me. Not the little persona I put up. Shit I'm rambling, my bad." She mumbled out the last part, feeling like she overshared a little.

"I don't mind hearing you ramble." The words slipped out of his lips, thinking how lame and stupid he probably sounded.

She smiled, for the first time in a while. "Really? Most people would usually try to change the subject every time I got too real."

"Seriously, how could you even think anyone would be bored or not like you."

If anything, it was too easy to like her.

She was gonna interject, tell him how wrong he was and that he'd end up like everyone else. He'll end up walking away from her life and get bored the moment he realizes that there was nothing more to her but the door to her bedroom swung open and her dad started yelling, grumbling about something she couldn't understand.

Before even thinking, she ended the call

leaving Schlatt thinking he did something wrong.

[raleighrador]

The Bear S3 - Plot and Carmen

I found Carmen's storyline in S3 simultaneously sad, funny, frustrating, and rewarding (all as a viewer). Carmen himself seems to straight up be having a terrible time.

The specific thing that stood out for me with the season's treatment of Carmen was - in a show that does a great job of show don't tell - we never get SHOWN Carmen having a win. Certainly not one that he is capable of enjoying.

What do I mean by this? We get told Carmen is a great chef but apart from the flashback to Sydney eating his fish + citrus dish (+ I guess the flashbacks where Carmen shells more peas/peels more mushrooms etc than Luca) we don't get SHOWN him being a great chef, or being acknowledged as a great chef.

Contrast this with eg Sydney making Nat an omelette in season 2, or Sydney taking over the service when Carmen is trapped in the walk in. Marcus's baked good get lots of "mmm WOW delicious yummy" scenes in earlier seasons. Even Sydney offering "obvious" improvements to Carmen's meat dish in S3E5. Sydney DEMONSTRATES exceptional cooking and cheffery on screen in a way Carmen does not.

Instead we get TOLD Carmen is an excellent chef. We get shown the various reviews and profiles that Sydney enviously reads in her empty apartment, we get Luca telling Marcus (in S2) that he could never keep up with Carmen, and finally we get Chef David (Carmen's former Executive Chef who was abusive) explicitly calling out that Carmen is an excellent chef.

This is an odd dynamic from a storytelling perspective, and I personally found it frustrating. Carmen is clearly the primary protagonist of the show and yet he never gets any visceral "wins" that we as the audience can immediately recognise and enjoy. In fact, in many ways, his achievements get a treatment more typically associated with an antagonist. Think of every bad guy who has been introduced as the 3 times world champ, or most dangerous person in MadeUpLandia, or the hottest and most popular girl in High School TM.

I think this is deliberate.

Every moment where we get told Carmen is excellent is deliberately unsatisfying because it is unsatisfying to Carmen. He repeatedly gets the affirmation that he is in fact exceptionally good at this and yet it does nothing for him.

It doesn't feel good and it doesn't quiet the voices in his head. It doesn't solve any of his issues. This is most explicitly true in the interaction with Chef David - Carmen's tormentor, the man who belittled him, who did more to destroy his self confidence than any other. Chef David loudly, clearly, explicitly gives Carmen the affirmation he always withheld... and it does nothing for Carmen. If anything it just further confuses and upsets him.

I think this will continue into the next season and ultimately whatever "ending" the show as a whole reaches. Carmen will get a star (or 2 or 3) and it will fix absolutely nothing. None of his problems (maybe the monetary ones?) will go away.

The star will fall into the black hole inside of Carmen and do nothing to fill it, just like everything else he has tried to use to plug that wound.

In fact I will go so far as to say - I think this show either ends with Carmen committing suicide or at least a suicide attempt will be a major plot point. Especially if the star does solve the money problems. One of the things that keeps Carmen going is that success will solve problems for his family - specifically, the debt Mikey left. If that goes away, it removes one of the biggest reasons to keep going.

Many people have (I think correctly) written extensively about how Sydney is Carmen's narrative foil. I think Mikey is his narrative mirror.

Mikey has from the very beginning dominated the show, and Carmen. He was why Carmen became a chef. He was why Carmen came back. He was who left Carmen picking up the pieces. It is - in my mind- all for Mikey and all because of Mikey. Carmen wanted to do this restaurant with his big brother and that will now never happen.

I think a potential path for the show to take is to contrast Sydney and Carmen to Carmen and Mikey. Sydney is able to recognise bits of herself in Carmen but also some of her own limits. She, I think, will learn and grow past Carmen and those limits.

I don't think Carmen will be so lucky. Thus far certainly he has demonstrated absolutely none of the self-awareness required to make this a plausible outcome. He has none of the language or tools required to have this realisation and then act on them (very bluntly pointed out by Richie in the "non-negotiables" argument). He doesn't have the support network to spot these things for him, and he is only becoming more isolated. He doesn't ever answer his phone. He is literally incapable of saying sorry or really having any conversation outside of the restaurant. The people around him are - for various reasons - losing patience or just have other things going on.

Nat - who has been the most uncritical and productive support for Carmen - now has a baby & the restaurant so she can't be the one maintaining a one sided relationship. Cicero has (unknown to the rest of them) money issues that mean he can't be the stable, consistent figure he wants to be. Richie and Sydney have been burned by Carmen lashing out too many times. His other industry friends don't actually know him that well because he has always been distant. They also have their own lives and bluntly Carmen is too much work for too little reward.

I thought the finale illustrated this really well - Luca and Sydney see Carmen going to confront Chef David, they know it is going to end badly, and then they do nothing about it. They, along with the rest of the Bear crew + Chef Terry + Jess go to Sydney's apartment for an after party. Carmen is notably absent.

None of them seem to notice or care. I imagine it is a "sigh *eye roll* Carmen is being Carmen" phenomenon rather than malice. It is still illustrative of Carmen's increasing isolation, and the loss of people looking out for him.

Carmen is not heading for a breakdown, he is in the midst of one. He has only gotten worse since he almost burned his apartment down while sleepwalking. I think that is what we are seeing.

Literally and figuratively Carmen is sleep walking into self-destruction.

This isolation from the people he cares about is not, however, totally agentless. That is to say - while I don't blame people like Richie and Sydney, I do think they are making choices that wind up isolating Carmen and denying him the affirmation and support he craves.

Does Carmen know that he made the best meal Sydney ever ate? I don't think so. So far as I recall she never told him. She told Marcus, but not Carmen. Does Carmen know that she specifically sought him out because of the fish & citrus dish? I don't think so. She told him she wanted to work at the Beef because it was her dad's favourite sandwich shop. Sydney has all of her own issues with Carmen and has made this choice for many reasons but ultimately she has never given Carmen the sort of affirmation I believe he craves and would actually accept from her. Her praise, I believe, would mean more than any of the rest he has received.

Instead, deliberately or not, Sydney does a lot to deny Carmen that praise and increasingly denies to herself that she even thinks it. The assertion that she can "keep up" from a skill perspective is one example, the more interesting one is how she reacts to Shapiro praising the scallop dish that is "new", that is "not Carmy". Shapiro clearly thinks and is heavily implying that this must be a Sydney dish. Sydney's response is "well it's um... it's both of us, together".

I read this scene as Adam clearly giving Sydney an opening to take credit, and Sydney response is clearly a "wink wink oh I am humble but yes".

Except it's not both of them nor is it Sydney. S3E1 ends and S3E2 begins with Carmen redoing all the dishes, including the fish dish. Sydney is very frustrated that Carmen "changed all my (her) shit".

A key, repeated, point of frustration for Sydney is that Carmen changes dishes without her input (I think this is only partially true and if so only partially problematic). Regardless of what I think SHE clearly chafes under a lack of ownership of the dishes.

So while this superficially resembles the flashback of Carmen and David futzing the fish & fennel dish, only for Carmen to deliver to Sydney the fish & citrus dish, it doesn't actually fit. This superficial parallel is actually a red herring (sorry) to our ability to read this interaction correctly.

This scene therefore demonstrates 2 (maybe 3) things brilliantly (in my mind at least): Carmen is not well known by basically anyone. Chef Adam is kind of sort of a work friend, but he clearly feels he "knows" Carmen's cooking and can recognise something that is so new and different that it can't be Carmen's. What he is totally missing is how much (and how fast) Carmen is changing and improving as a chef. It also demonstrates Sydney's unwillingness to acknowledge how good Carmen is. Again multiple angles here, but she isn't willing to let it be Carmen's dish. She also doesn't ever tell Carmen that Adam thought the food was excellent.

This echoes S1 Richie refusing to really acknowledge how much better Carmen's beef sandwich is than the old version.

So there is a pattern of Carmen not getting validation from people whose opinions he actually cares about. Instead he just gets unsatisfying praise from people who don't matter to him.

The third thing this scene potentially demonstrates is that the parallels between Carmen and Sydney's experiences are weaker than implied.

I have read a few reviews that criticise this season because not enough happens, there isn't enough character growth, and there is clunky writing that makes it a frustrating viewing experience. I don't actually disagree per se, I just think they are deliberate.

I am possibly reaching, and it is possible the writers are being more ambitious than they can deliver on. It feels, in many ways, like avant-garde cuisine. The writers are deliberately breaking rules, deliberately doing things that are almost always "bad writing" and trying to do them in a way that actually makes them good.

It's like trying to make ice cream out of squid ink, or colourless, textureless cubes that tastes like ribeye. It doesn't make sense and it isn't how cooking works. Sometime you spend hundreds of dollars on terrible, unsatisfying meals. Sometimes you eat something that breaks all the rules and defies all your expectations and blows your fucking mind.

Sometimes it's in-between and I guess S3 is more that for me than either of the former. I still think what the writers are doing is cool and innovative and I like it, even if it didn't all land perfectly.

[sorenphelps]

All the artwork I made for the fanfic Crazy Ex-Boyfriend by @amethystheart2421 for this year's @rsbigbang!

It was a wild run, we got paired up quite late due to our original pairs dropping out of the Bang, and even though it was already December and time was running thin, I decided to make this whole deal a way bigger challenge than it supposed to be... So I ended up drawing all 7 fantasy sequences, trying to mimic a different style for all of them, and finishing both versions of the banners I had in mind. I know, I know, but I swear even I wasn't aware that I am such an overachiever either!

Also, I usually like to hide little details as easter eggs on all of my artwork, so naturally this was the case with these too. I'm gonna list them one by one, also share a little story about each piece, sort of like a "directors cut werk", just so we stick to the screenplay motif. The numbers in brackets lists the order in which I drew the pictures.

The banners (1.,9.): I haven't watched Crazy Ex-Girlfriend the show, so I really had no idea about this whole thing, hence my initial idea of re-drawing one of the official promo posters of the show as the banner. But then Nicole shared the first scene with me when we got paired up, and also told me that her original artist wanted to draw the stargazing scene, which I also really liked. I sketched out both versions to see which one would look better, and also to warm up a bit for this version of the characters. (Nicole also shared some faceclaims, so except Sirius' and Lily's design, I tried to stick to her vision as much as I could.) The Netflix poster was considered the final one for quite a while. The stargazing banner was the last piece of artwork I finished, which I also edited to be used as Chapter dividers. I liked the idea so much I actually referenced the starry sky on the other pictures too. On the Netflix banner, Remus' socks and Sirius' suit handkerchief (how do you call those things in English, gahh) both have the starry pattern.

The western (3.): By this time it was decided that I'd do all fantasy sequences in a different art style, but I couldn't really come up with any specific style which could have fit the western vibes, so the characters are drawn in my own usual style, only the colouring is different. I tried to go for a sepia effect, without using a filter, I think I could pull it off well enough. I was considering to draw Sirius as a Native American for this, because I just don't see him as Caucasian in general, and also, Black Dog sounds like a badly translated indigenous name... But I discarded this idea for the sake of "historical accuracy" (and to save time, haha), as I think they wouldn't visit a saloon this way. I added the starry sky pattern to Sirius' handkerchief and... scarf? (I really should learn how certain textil items are called in English...) There is a wanted poster in the background with Voldy. And I swear I didn't mean to draw Remus looking this horny, it just kinda happened by accident! He is sure VERY fascinated by Sirius'... pistol.😜

The Star Trek (6.): My original idea was to draw like usual and just add so many lensflares to the picture that it's not visible if I copied another style or not. But in the meantime I started to watch Star Trek: Strange New Worlds with my bf and also found out that there is a new cartoon too, so it was then settled. This style is very different from my own, but it was so much fun! It was weird not to draw every single strand of hair in excruciating detail, actually that was the hardest part, haha! I struggled a bit with the placement of the lensflares too, the first version had too many and too bright, it had a disco vibe rather than a spaceship. I wanted to add easter eggs to the background screen, but I was running out of time, so there's only one light blue star similar on the screen! Also now I know that the uniform colors are not really consistent in Star Trek, and Remus’ might have had to be gold as Captain…🤷🏻‍♀️

The Disney (2.): This one sparked the first idea in my head after I read all fantasy scenes Nicole kindly shared with me. When I first sketched this, I still had no idea that I will end up drawing for every chapter and the style copying was not settled either. It started with this piece, I had the vision of the wolf chasing scene from Beauty and the Beast, and we were discussing whether it's plausible to collect berries during the winter or not... I've tried to make the final piece look as classic Disney as I can, and since I could pull it off, it was not a question anymore whether I'd try to do this with other styles for the other scenes. Retrospectively, this one was the easiest to make, apparently my usual style is not that far from Disney (I grew up watching those movies, so it's not a surprise), but I had to really focus on drawing the animals, it's been ages since I last drew any! (The trick is to give them eyebrows, and bam, it's Disney style!) Sirius' armour, clothes and sword has the star, and I also designed his own "crest" with the black dog and a star on his shoulder plate. The whole concept of the picture is Sirius' side being very bright coloured, while Remus' with the scary wolves in the background being very dark. This might have worked better if it was not set in the winter, but I wanted to stick to the Beauty and the Beast vision I had.

The Comicbook (4.): I was very excited for this one, I really like the looks of the old Batman the animated series, and the way some of his comics are drawn. It's such a unique style, I really like the simple shapes and bold contrasts. Well, it turned out I am very bad at this! I struggled quite a bit trying to capture what I had in mind, but I couldn't even come close to it... So I kinda cheated a bit because I just traced the lineart directly from the reference pictures of Batman comic books I found online. I tried to make Remus less buff, but it looked very weird, so I let him keep his muscular Batman body instead. I drew the wolf mask and the whole Sirius panel, and the coloring went smoothly after I finalized the lineart, even though I only realized that I switched the colour schemes of Remus' superhero outfit when I looked up the quotes for the comic panels, oops. Overall I like how it looks, but I am not that proud of it as I had to "cheat".

The Hobbit (5.): I've probably spent the most time with this one! I actually really like Martin Freeman as an older Remus FC, so I was quite excited to do this piece. My original idea was to mimic John Howe's style, as he is the Tolkien illustrator god, but his level of skill and mine are very very far from each other... and as I struggled a lot with the Batman piece, I felt like going for a smaller challenge. That's why I decided to have a go at Alphonse Mucha's art nouveau style. Turned out it was the worst possible idea! 🤣 The whole point of art nouveau is depicting attractive ladies in an ethereal way... But if you switch the ladies with a fat hobbit, the vibe def won't be the same! The first version just looks so extremely absurd, it's both awful and hilarious. By the time I could fix the pose so it wouldn't look as ridiculous, the final style looked nothing like art nouveau... I still have no idea what style it is now, not my own or any of the ones I tried to capture, that's for sure. I considered adding the star pattern to that tablecloth, but I decided that the lupin flowers in the foreground and the whomping willow-like tree are enough reference for this pic! I like how it turned out in the end tho, I think I could do justice for the watercolor-looking coloring technique, and the end result looks a bit like a fancier version of old children's book illustrations... Which is essentially what The Hobbit is, so it all sorted itself out by the end.

The Anime (7.): I like anime (I'm a little picky about them tho), so it was not a question that I would give this style a try! I am a huge fan of cyberpunk (the genre), so initially wanted to do that, I'm such a slut for Ghost in the Shell and I really like the aesthetics of the Akira posters, but after reading the actual scene, it was not really fitting. So I saved the cyberpunk AU for later, and went for the post-apocalyptic vibe instead. Obviously anime had a great influence on my art style, so similar to the Disney one, it was not that much of a challenge to mimic it. However I'm not that good at drawing backgrounds, and oh boy, I really made myself get over this obstacle with this series of pictures! Also as I was more comfortable with this piece, I actually added the starry sky pattern from the beginning to the scarf/blanket Remus has on this picture!

The Sitcom (8.): The original idea was to copy Hanna Barbera's old family cartoons' style, but as my deadline was very close and after reading the scene I realized that it will have a shitton of characters, I quickly abandoned my original plan. So this one is drawn in my own style, sort of, the designs of the characters are more aligned with Nicole's vision (sans Sirius, Lily, and partly Peter). The hardest part was definitely to figure out how I could fit 10 characters into one picture, let alone sitting in a living room! Also, I had to actually draw the living room too, considering perspective and scaling... Something I am not that good at. In the end the coffee table is maybe a little too big, but I needed that to hide the legs of the characters sitting on the sofa, haha! Also, the sofa is the Millennial Dark Green Velvet Sofa, because I also want to have one and it really emphasizes the general existential dread! (Just kidding.) Also also, I just realized that I have no idea how to eat tacos without making a mess (they are not that popular where I live). I added the starry sky pattern to Sirius' shirt, and gave a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles T-shirt to Peter, as he is talking about that in the scene. I wanted to squeeze in further references to the newspaper Remus is holding, but it was too tiny. The star from Knight Sirius' armour is in the background on the bookshelf. Also that globe just makes no sense but I had no better idea how to fill the empty space 😅. Molly is holding a mug with "BEST MOM" written on it, and I intentionally made Marlene's eye colour the same as Remus', who btw should have worn a bathrobe according to the original scene, but it was too late to fix that by the time I realized it. All in all, I am quite satisfied with how it turned out, it has the necessary sitcom vibes. And it is kinda a record for me in terms of number of characters drawn (the most was 12, but that one has no background, so I'd call it a tie!)!! I am very proud of myself for pulling this piece off, it really is the achievement of the year!

TLDR; (I mean really, my rambling is just too long!) I am happy that I was paired up with Nicole, working with her was such a creative process! My absolute favourite thing to do is work on AUs, and she has provided me with the opportunity to do so, I am grateful! It was truly a pleasure to participate in this (even if it's not that clear from all the complaining I just had above, haha)! If you ask me nicely I might show you the cursed first version of the hobbit picture!

[lunchtimebedamned1997]

Thank you @pennedinblood for the tag! <3 My fic writing has taken a backseat to my novel and scripts the last week or so, but I can give a nice peak into Ch. 6 of The Space Between Us! The fic focuses on how Vox and Alastor come to be where they are in S1, but this section focuses mostly on Angel & his connection to Val >:3 (it matters overall to the vibe between Vox and Al, much like every other scene I put in that doesn't directly involve the two of them; but you'll just have to wait for the chapter to come out XD)

It felt… silly, as he picked up the pen waiting for him. It was just a pen. And it was about to change the shape of his entire afterlife. His eternity. Equal bolts of pleasure and anxiety shot through him at the thought, his heart hammering as he put pen to paper and started to move. He’d practiced his signature for this, a perfect star in place of the ‘A’ at the start of his name. What he was going to be. The shape of his new life. And at the end, he couldn’t help but doodle a little heart in the space before his name for Val. After all, their love was the reason for all of this. For the opportunity. For change. The moment he lifted his pen from the paper, there was an uncomfortable sensation in his left eye, like ink spilling across the surface with the ghost of a sting. He touched his face, finding nothing but clear tears welling at the sensation when he pulled his fingers back. He blinked a few times to try and clear it, catching a warped glance at himself in the metal of the pen as he went to set it down, momentarily startled by it because his eye – oh. Right. Guess the whole black-eye-ownership thing ain’t bullshit afterall. Oh well, he wasn’t ashamed for people to know his work was earned through more than being a good fuck and a better boyfriend. That had been the whole goddamn point.

He needs those soft eyes and that warm smile he knows Val’s ready to give him. He takes a deep breath, trying to play off the wateriness of his eyes as relief in having things settled since Vox is watching. But meeting Val’s gaze makes Anthony jolt. A there-and-gone moment where he doesn’t recognize the man sitting next to him. That puppy-smile wolfish and hungry, those eyes glittering with something Anthony’s only seen flickers of between his own pleasure-fucked tears in their roughest play-scenes. He shakes his head, a breathy laugh escaping him as he brings one hand up to card through his fluffy arc of hair. Another pressing a thumb between his brows as he tries to get a fuckin’ grip. “Geeze. Sorry for getting’ all twitchy. Guess I wasn’t expecting there to be physical sensation with it.” “Ah.” Vox’s voice, Anthony didn’t bother looking over, just slouched back in his chair and watched Val’s large hands roll up the contract and tie it with a big red bow. Cute. “We might have given you a heads-up, but we couldn’t know. Neither one of us has ever signed anything away.”

@grownupchangeling @hashbrownwut (you are summoned but not forced >:3) + anyone else that wants to join in!!! I don't have many mutuals in the Hazbin fandom so far, so have at it! (and don't be shy to message me if you wanna be friends lmao - I only bite affectionately, and you're safe with the screen in the way)

[perplexingluciddreams]

more details of experiment edits on AAC:

first i will show 3 pictures of Supercore 50:

how it looks automatically without any edits

my current grid set that i use for communication

the version of this grid set i added just to try colour changes and other visual edits.

[Image description: 3 images of the same vocabulary grid set in Grid 3, called Supercore 50. the first image has rounded corners on buttons, a white background, bigger spacing, and text labels on every button with text above symbol. second image is similar looking with same rounded buttons, but less spacing. is different by black background, text label removed from folder and menu/function buttons, text below symbol. third image is very different looking from other two. same black background, menu and main folder buttons have black background with simple coloured symbol, mainly yellow. no folder buttons have text label, and many have simplified symbol. all button colours are altered in tone and shade. all darker colours, easier on the eye. the "little words" buttons are changed from almost white to dark grey with yellow text. End ID.]

here is explanation:

added new version of my grid set (Supercore 50) to just play around with and change colours and see what works. didn't want to mess up my actual grid set with all my personal edits and added vocabulary. didn't go to bother of making it all "uniform" across the whole device (because is time consuming and i will have to do that eventually on my real grid set).

mostly just tried out different colours. and how to make home page as easy to visual process as possible. didn't change colour coding (for example pronouns yellow, verbs green, adjectives blue, little words grey-ish - that all stay. just change tone of colours to not "attack" eyes).

eyes can't cope with a lot of "whiteness" in any colours, especially on a screen where there is so much white/blue light already. makes much sensory overload and bad headaches. pastel colours or very bright neon or light blue/purple/yellow/grey... not fun. brain simply skips over any blocks of those colours cause it can't get past whiteness to see what is on the button.

in Grid 3 edit menu you can change colour of button - there is a palette of pre-made colours, but you can also do "adjust colour" and choose custom colour there. and there is something called "button styles" so you can just edit one button how you want, then say "update style" and it will change all buttons with that "style".

i worked out that turning down "saturation" and "luminosity" helps me a lot. then the colour doesn't "attack" my eyes so much, so i can actually search the screen for the symbol/word i want. better visual scanning ability.

also removed borders on buttons. just adds extra stuff for eyes to get "stuck" on. it looks cleaner without border.

On Grid 3 there is also different button "themes" available (different from button styles), which changes the entire automatic look of the entire grid set with just change that. changed from "modern" to "blocky" theme. because there is a slight "colour gradient" on buttons with "modern" theme (I think🤷🏻‍♂️). meaning there is more highlight at the top of the button on more shadow/darker at the bottom. makes it hard to see the symbols and text because it is not "flat" looking. to me the "modern" theme looks slightly bumpy and 3D, the "blocky" theme looks flat. and brain can't process 3D (especially not at same time as try to search for words and scan screen).

i also made the "menu" buttons or "grid functions" buttons have black background (to match black background of entire grid set), with symbol in yellow. and remove text labels for these buttons and some folder buttons. this helps because then only the word buttons "jump out" at brain. so there is less "bulk" of the screen to process. and the "function" buttons have only simple symbol, so can easily find!

this is all still only changed in the blank version of Supercore 50 that I added for this specific purpose. it is a HUGE change to my AAC. so i can't just change it all at once. it will have to happen in stages. and i am still not 100% sure of all the changes. (for example i don't really know what to do with the folders. don't like how they look right now...). so i have to be very confident in a change before i can make my real grid have it.

(also there is still folders and buttons i haven't changed at all. just mostly did home grid so i can see the difference. still working on it and will be long time until ready to change my real AAC).

i will keep updating on the changes!

[call-sign-shark]

✨ Forget-Me-Not || Ch.3✨

Summary:  Jake calls you in the evening, panicking: Amber is sick and he does not know what to do. — Or how a flower girl will try to heal a heart beyond repair 

Words: 3.1k

Tags: fluff, dad!Jake, like tooth-rotting fluff, domestic situation

Read Part 1 || Part 2

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Psss don't forget to reblog 💚

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The crackling of the fire, dancing in the hearth, is lulling you to sleep. Heavy as lead, your eyelids close as you doze off, comfortably curled in one of the living room’s armchairs. A pleasant smell of chamomile tea and warm brioche floats in the whole house – your Aunt has just removed the cake she has baked from the oven and has put it on the kitchen table.

If heaven is a place, you are convinced it is Aunt Maya’s house.

Your sleepy mind wanders from thought to thought. Did the last client’s wife enjoy the wedding bouquet you made for her? Will you wash your hair tonight or are you feeling too lazy to do that? Despite the myriad of thoughts you have, your brain always comes back to the memory of Jake Seresin kissing you on the beach. The smell of sunscreen, the sun’s warmth on your skin, and the intoxicating taste of his lips… You continuously recall every slightest detail of the date and, each time you do so, a wave of desire lights your soul on fire. When focusing hard enough on the fresh recollection of your last encounter with the handsome pilot, you can still smell the delicate scent of the ocean melted with his masculine and slightly musky perfume. Since that afternoon, Jake and you meet almost every day.

Summer fling or summer love, whatever you call it, it cannot be ignored. This is what Aunt Maya said when you told her about Jake.

You are about to fall into Morpheus’ soft arms when the muffled sound and vibrations of your phone snatch you from sleep, causing you to jolt. 

A quick glance at the clock on the wall: it is 8 PM. Thoughts bump into each other in your skull, for you do not expect any phone call. You blink several times to shoo the fatigue away from your sleepy eyes and grab your phone to look at the screen.

Jake 🌻 

Your brows furrow at his name. Even though you got in the habit of calling each other for hours almost every night, it never happens at this time of the evening. Indeed, Jake makes sure Amber is deeply asleep first before spending time with you. You pick up the phone

“Hello?”

“Poppy, I’m sorry for calling you this late but — but I need you.” Jake’s panicked voice sweeps your smile away. Concerned, you get up from the armchair and start to scurry around the living room. Staying still during a phone call had never been a thing for you.

“Alright. What’s the problem?” You keep your composure, hoping for the calmness in your voice to soothe the aviator.

“It’s Amber.” He pauses and takes a deep breath, but his attempt to keep his cool fails miserably, “She has quite a high fever and I don’t know what to do. I – I tried to call Penny but she doesn’t pick up. I asked Rooster and Shark but they are both fucking clueless and useless. Should I bring her to the hospital? Should I give her meds? I don’t know.” He is talking very quickly, and his words muddle up in a half-incomprehensible soliloquy.

“Jake”

“I mean, I’m scared of giving her the wrong type of meds and worsening the situation. But I can’t stay there, arms crossed, while she is clearly in pain! I mean–”

“Jake, calm down. Focus on my voice.” Your tone is firmer but your words are coated with tenderness. Iron fist in a velvet glove they said. You hear the pilot’s shaky breath on the line: he has closed his eyes and holds on to your voice as he would do with a lifebelt, “Do you want me to come?” 

Another short pause followed by a long and shaky exhale, “Yes please,” he asked.

“Okay, see you soon.” You double-time to the corridor to put your black Dr. Martens on as soon as you hang up. There is no time to waste, you mumble to yourself for the simple thought of Amber and Jake in distress makes you utterly worried. 

“Where are you going, Poppy?” Aunt Maya’s voice said from the kitchen. The lovely old woman is cutting brioche slices and spreading butter on them. She does not even look at you, far too absorbed in his task.

“A friend of mine’s got a problem with his daughter. Gotta help him.” You reply, half distracted by the search for Aunt Maya’s car key. 

“Left pocket of my purple jacket.” She declares. You freeze – How the hell does she know what you are looking for? You turn your head towards the kitchen's open door expecting to see Aunt Maya’s silhouette standing there but she is not. The lovely old woman’s lips stretch in a faint but cunning smile, for she can easily imagine your surprise.  You squint your eyes and look into the pocket of the said jacket:  she is right, the car key is here. The palm of your hand tightens around the car key as you shake your head, amused. Sometimes you wonder if Aunt Maya is the daughter of a witch they couldn’t burn.  After all, she had a black cat, was a good cook, she knew plants and their effects by heart ... Yeah, Aunt Maya might be an actual witch.

“Thanks! I don’t know when I’ll be back home.” 

“Keep me informed, dear.”  She states, her voice emphasizing your nickname to make sure you won't forget to send her messages. You are about to grab the door handle when Aunt Maya’s voice echoes a second time, just before you leave, “Poppy?”

“Yeaaah?”

“ Be careful not to wound yourself with the shards of a broken heart. They can be really sharp.” 

“Uhu!” You agree without really listening to what she has just said, for you are too impatient to leave. The door slams at your departure, plunging the house into silence. 

Aunt Maya gently shakes her head, wishing you would not learn it the hard way. 

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The car engine stops purring as soon as you turned the ignition key and slip it into one of your pockets. You grab the bag on the passenger seat and rest it on your lap for you to quickly roam through the stuff you have brought. You check if you have not forgotten anything.  Ibuprofen, soft body sponges, a light Lion King blanket, and plenty of food-- You did not know what Amber likes to eat so you basically bought everything that children of her age love alongside a bunch of fresh fruits. Realizing the weight of the bag, you suddenly feel ridiculous. Isn't it a bit too much? At this point, you are even afraid of Jake's reaction; you don't want him to think you know children better than him nor you want him to believe you meddle too much in his and his daughter’s life.

You are about to leave the car when a familiar floral smell makes you stop in mid-motion. Frowning, you glance over your shoulder to take a look at the backseat. Your Y/EC eyes are welcomed by the tiny white bells of several sprigs of Lily-in-the-Valley, tied with a white silk ribbon. What are these flowers doing here? At first, you thought Aunt Maya may have forgotten them, but you quickly give up the idea for the old woman would never forget flowers in the back of her car. In fact, she was the kind of passionate soul who would have taken care of the bouquet even before taking care of herself. Looking at them a little closer, you notice a small note.

"Carried away by a soft summer breeze,  the sweet and green fragrance of my nodding blooms promises the return of happiness." 

A soft smile enlightens your face as you recognized the handwriting. Aunt Maya is definitely a witch. You reached for the flowers and smell their delicate spring-like scent. If you already bring a whole minimarket in your bag, you might as well take the Lilies-of-the-Valley with you.

"Damn it," you grumble as you are making your way to the door while trying not to damage the flowers or drop the bag's content all over the ground. Fortunately enough, Jake is already at the door, one of his shoulders leaning against the wooden frame. He has heard the sound of your engine from inside the house.

"Let me help you," He said while already unburdening you from the bag. Somehow, he is well aware that you are strong enough to carry it by yourself, but he feels bad for making you come to his house in the midst of the evening, so he tries to make up for it. Despite his anxiety, the sight of the adorable flowers bouquet in your two delicate hands brought a genuine smile to his face. He has never told you but each time you bring him flowers, the fortress he had built around his heart shatters a bit more. 

Jake’s house is a typical beachfront house, whose prevailing material is maple wood. Far from being pompous, his home is more like a cozy nest than a fancy and luxurious residence. The living room is spacious, with an open kitchen. The man makes a good living, but he likes simple things. Growing in Texas often humbled him. Jake puts down the groceries on the kitchen table. Then, he grabs a glass, pours water in it, and sets it on the counter for you to put the lilies in. A faint and exhausted smirk is etched on his thin lips, but you know the last thing he wishes at this moment is to smile. He is just being polite. You put the bouquet in the glass and take a deep breath.

“Alright, where is Amber?”

“In her bedroom”, Jake turned around to face you and leaned against the kitchen table, half-sitting on it. His strong and calloused hands are gripping its edge, “She is trying to sleep but she can’t,” his formal smile slowly fades away from his good-looking face, “When she came back from school she told me she wasn’t feeling well. Headache and stuffy nose. I obviously thought she had caught a cold but one hour ago she started shaking like a leaf and crying. I took her temperature and, dear God, she was burning.” While talking, the aviator had brought a trembling hand on his neck to rub it in a nervous reflex. The kitchen’s light reflects on Jake’s tanned skin and underlines the dark bags he had under his sea-green eyes. To be honest, this is the first time you realize how tired he must be. Hardworking naval aviator, divorced man, single dad, and sports aficionado, you wonder how he can do it all without breaking down.

You take a step closer and gently press your cold hand on his warm arm, remaining silent. You want him to know that you are here for him, but you are afraid of not finding the right words. The contrast between your body temperature wakes up a firework of sensations in your stomach. Jake’s muscles relax as if your simple touch has the power to heal his wounds.

“I usually call Penny when I don’t know what to do but I’ve forgotten she and Amelia are spending a few days sailing with their boat.” His voice, coated with fear a short time ago, is quieter. You crack a soft smile.

“So you thought calling Rooster and Shark was a good idea?”

“I freaked out, but I quickly remembered they suck with kids. They panicked even more than I did. Plus, they are having a short road trip together so they can’t even come,” He pauses and lets out a long sigh, “I am an awful dad. Not even able to know what to do when my own daughter is sick.” Sadness glows in his emerald eyes.

“Don’t beat yourself, Jake. You are scared because you love her to death, and that’s far from being a flaw.” You gently lay your small hand on his cheek, enjoying the raspy sensation of his stubble beard against the delicate flesh of your fingertips. Jake would usually be clean shaved, so seeing him with beard amuses you: it suits him well. But what doesn’t anyway? Lulled by your voice, the pilot closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh. He does not know how but you always manage to find the words to calm him down. The exact words and tone — at this point he suspects you to be some kind of witch. Less than ten minutes has passed, and his anxiety already decreased because of your reassuring presence.

“But”

“Hush. Can you show me where Amber’s bedroom is?” Your fingers run one last time on his cheek in a sweet caress before you back up and rummage through the groceries bag to grab what you needed, “You know, I would not worry if I were you. Kids can have a sudden high fever but it usually does not last long. You told me she caught a cold, well it can possibly come from he–”

“Dad, my head hurts!” Said a tired and squeaky voice coming from behind you. Jake and you turn around as one, only to find little Amber standing on the last step of the staircase dressed in a pale pink fluffy pajama. She is rubbing her eyes and sobbing, unable to express her discomfort by other means than crying from her ten little years old. You looked at her, an expression of pure sadness sweeping away your smile. Seeing the bubbly little Amber sobbing breaks your heart.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Jake does not wait any further and immediately walks to his daughter to carry her in his arms. As soon as her dad grabs her, the young girl clings to him like a baby koala, “Don’t worry, Poppy and I are going to take care of you.” He says softly, gently lulling her by stroking her back. As loving the sight of the two is, something disturbs you: Amber is dressed far too much for someone with a high fever.

“Is Poppy gonna stay with me too?” Amber’s little voice asks before she glances at you, curiously. To be true, she missed having a feminine figure in her life, even though she cannot really word it – nor she wants to. Having you around soothes her even more. Jake looks at you, his emerald eyes waiting for your answer as attentively as Amber.

“Of course, I’m gonna stay. And we’ll fight the fever together, little cheetah?”

Little cheetah. Amber lets out a tired chuckle at the pet name, for she immediately understands you call her like that because, when you first met, she ran to you. She laughs, and it is everything. Watching the little blonde girl’s joy makes your heart sparkle. Without further ado, you join the pair and pressed one hand on Jake’s lower back while the other is busy carrying a sponge, a blanket, and a banana, “I’ve got an idea since you cannot sleep. What if we all watch the movie you want?”

“Can we watch the Lion King?” She asks, her face half hidden in her father’s neck. The aviator cannot help but snort, amused. He swears he knows every line of the movie by heart, but that comes with the joy of having kids. 

“Of course, we can watch it, that’s also one of my favorite movies. By the way, look what I brought.” You show her the blanket you’ve bought for her: it was a huge and comfy black blanket with the movie logo – a lion face – on it. Amber’s eyes widen at such a sight, her sea-green iris enlightened with excitement.

“Is it for me?!” Amber beams.

Jake lowkey clenches his jaws, trying hard not to let his heart fall for you, even though he is afraid it’s already too late. His inner voice whispers in his ear, telling if that it would not mind if you would stay in their life forever. 

“But first, Dad’s gonna dress you with something lighter. Aren’t you, dad?” 

“Hm?” Snatched from his thoughts, Jake looks at his daughter, then at you, and blinks several times until his mind connects with what you just said, “But she’s sick. She needs to wear something warm.”

“Nope, she has a high fever, and wearing something too warm can increase her body temperature. She’ll feel better with a lighter pajama.” You raise a brow and the pilot falls silent. He stares at you for a short while, completely wrecked by the thought of you being a caring mom for his daughter. After the bloody war, he fought against his ex-wife to gain Amber’s custody back, Seresin swore to never let another woman step into his and his daughter’s life. And here she was,  looking at you with complicity even her own biological mother never had with her. 

“Alright, we’ll be there in five minutes.” He finally says, managing to come back to his senses by God knows what kind of miracle. As the father and his daughter disappear upstairs, you decide to make the living room the coziest place possible, already comfortable in this household.

You start cutting fruits and chocolate squares in a bowl, in the company of the spring fragrance coming from the lily-of-the-valley next to you.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Oh yes, the past can hurt. But from the way I see it, you can either run from it, or learn from it. 

Amber’s eyes were staring at the screen as Rafiki talked to a grown-up Simba, the movie making her forget the discomfort she was feeling lately. With one hand, she picks banana slices and chocolate. With the other, she presses the cold water-soaked sponge you gave her to alleviate the fever against her forehead. At some point, the adorable little blond turns from her dad to lean her head against your shoulder, her eyes – green like wild forests – still focusing on the screen. You glance at her and smile, a wave of tenderness coming through your soul each time you would look at her lovely bratty pout. 

Hey! Where are you going?

I’m going back! 

Jake’s heart races to the rhythm of Hans Zimmer’s This is My Home. He has tried really hard not to look at Amber and you, snuggling together and eating the snacks you had made for her to feel better. His very own soul could not handle it – One more glance is all it can take for him to definitely tear his heart from his ribcage and give it to you, no matter if you destroy it right after. 

But Amber liked you so much. And you’ve been seeing each other almost every day for one full month.  He brings one hand to his forehead, feeling feverish all of sudden. Maybe he has caught Amber’s cold – How can he realize you were the one giving him the fever?

It’s going to be dangerous.

Danger? Haha! I laugh in the face of danger!

His shiny green eyes cannot help but take a quick look at you, but as he gives in he realized he cannot look away anymore. Enchanted by your charming silhouette, Jake drowns in your features. You are beautiful – so beautiful that the flowers you always brought could not compete with your graceful looks. Feeling watched, you frown slightly and check on the blonde pilot. Your eyes meet, and time stops. Boom, boom, it beats faster and faster in his chest. He gathers all his willpower and stretches his arm to rest it on the couch’s back right behind you.

Amber has started to doze off, still snuggled up to you. It seems like she does not want to let you go – Good thing, his father neither.

“Please stay,” Jake whispers, doing his best not to wake his daughter up.

“But it’s going to be dangerous.” You reply, your lovely smile enlightening your face.

“Danger? I laugh in the face of danger.” 

“Of course you do, Seresin.” 

You chuckle.

He falls.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Taglist: @acarboni21 @child-of-of-the-sunshine @djs8891 @teacupsandtopgun @clancycucumber230 @eddiesgorlie

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Stay Part 3

This fic will fulfill the Exhibitionism square in my @spnkinkevents bingo card:

Series Summary: Y/N knows what she's doing is wrong, but she doesn't want to let it go.

Chapter Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. Fingering, P in V unprotected sex, public sex. Cheating. Mentions of infidelity and slight emotional abuse/abandonment in a relationship.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 1,419

A/N: This is the third part to my Stay series. It is a completed five part series. One part will be released every day. Hope you enjoy!

The beautiful divider below and at the bottom was created by @talesmaniac89

D: I’m coming through tomorrow. Can I see you? Me: Yes. What time? D: Nine o’clock. Me: I’ll be waiting at the usual spot.

Y/N stared at the screen a moment before deleting the conversation. Her stomach was filled with butterflies at the prospect of seeing Dean again. It had been nearly a month since they’d last been together and every day had dragged, without the prospect of him. 

They’d sexted a few times, and it had mostly sustained her, but it wasn’t nearly enough. With just words on a screen she couldn’t hear the way his voice dipped so low and smooth as he whispered the endless things he was going to do to her, she couldn’t feel his rough, callused fingers push deep inside her, creating a perfect friction. 

But now he was coming, and all of that would be hers to have; she felt giddy. 

And like a lightning bolt from the sky she suddenly knew she was going to leave her marriage tonight. 

The feelings she had when she was with Dean were like nothing she’d ever known. She ached for him constantly, looking forward to every scrap of contact from him. She laughed with him when they laid their heads together on the pillow, he made her feel whole again, cherished under his hand, precious, and important. 

At her happiest in her marriage, she’d never felt that way. She’d always felt like she had to earn her right to be his wife, he always gave her the impression that he’d settled for her. Maybe he had. But she knew the truth was, she’d settled too. She’d been too scared to venture outside what was comfortable, believing the half-hearted love he offered was all she could ask for.

She knew better now, knew she was worth more, knew she wasn’t just his maid, that she shouldn’t be taken for granted, that she mattered. 

When he came home that night, she had a bag packed and a goodbye prepared.

The next day, she waited on the bus bench on the outskirts of town, where she always sat and waited for him to show up in his sleek black Impala. More than once they’d simply pulled into a vacant lot nearby and enjoyed a few quick hours in the backseat, desperate for more time, but grateful to be able to satiate their never-ending need for each other.

It was nine thirty and she began to wonder if he was coming, because in spite of the rigorous hours he kept as an agent with the FBI, he was rarely ever late to meet her. But finally she saw his headlights rising over the hill in the distance and her stomach tightened. 

He pulled over to the side of the road, and cut the engine. The door squeaked loudly as he slammed it shut behind him and walked towards her. Her mouth watered at his long, bow-legged stride; she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of just watching the way he moved..

When he reached her, he bent over, placing one hand on either side of her shoulders, as he gripped the back of the bench, trapping her between his arms. His smile was soft and sweet as he leaned down to kiss her gently.

“Hi.” He said when he pulled back. 

Y/N tried to clear her head as his woodsy scent surrounded her. “Hey.” 

He sat down beside her, but just as he did she heard his phone beep. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket and then swore.

“What is it?” She asked, already dreading the answer.

He looked at her with disappointed eyes. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, but…something just came up in a case, and I gotta go meet my partner.”

Y/N felt her eyes fill with tears and she was horribly embarrassed. She tried to smile through them, nodding. “Okay, that’s…I get it.”

Dean frowned deeply. “Hey, hey.” He said as he thumbed away a tear. “I’ll do my best to get back here much sooner next time.”

Biting her lip, Y/N tried to nod again. “Yeah, it’s okay. If you gotta go…” She trailed off and then decided to tell him how she really felt. She didn’t want to pretend anymore than she already did in her life. “I’ve just missed you so much, I’m just…” She licked her lips. “I ache for you, Dean.”

She saw his jaw tighten, his nostrils flaring slightly as he tried to tamp down his own need. “Me too, sweetheart, me too.” He stared at her a moment more before he suddenly lifted her onto his lap. He smiled wickedly as he pushed his hand up her skirt. Y/N gasped roughly, shock and desire warring within her.

He chuckled slightly as he pushed her panties aside and slowly pushed a finger inside her. “Luckily you’re ideally dressed for a quick solution.” 

He slid a second finger in, and Y/N buried her face in the side of his neck, trying to stifle her cries of pleasure. As he pumped his fingers in and out of her, scissoring her open and then adding a third, she saw a car coming over the hill and she squealed in embarrassment at the prospect of someone seeing them. A second car was right behind the first and she pushed on his thick wrist.

“Dean.” She said, before she gasped as his fingers brushed her over her sweet spot. “Fuck!”

Dean pulled back slightly. “Want me to stop, baby?” He asked, his eyes teasing.

Y/N shook her head. “No, god no. But,” she pointed at the car, “shouldn’t we get in the car at least?”

Dean just shook his head. “No time.” He pulled his fingers out of her and scooched her onto one thigh as he popped open the button on his pants, and yanked his zipper down before pulling out his cock and fisting it in his huge hand. 

He lifted her easily and then impaled her on his rock hard dick. She couldn’t bite back her loud moan that time, her head falling back against his shoulder and she prayed the car driving by at that exact moment hadn’t heard her. They were ever so slightly blocked from the road by the length of the Impala and she prayed that would be enough to shield them from the cars that passed by regularly as Dean fucked up into her.

Thankfully they were both so desperate for release that they came within minutes, Dean burying his face in her hair, and Y/N scratching up the back of Dean’s hand where he gripped her around the waist. 

After half a minute, she stood up on incredibly wobbly legs, readjusting her skirt, and Dean tucked himself back into his pants. He stood up and kissed her fast and hard.

“I’m sorry again, baby. But I’ll make it up to you next time, okay?”

Y/N nodded and he ran his hand up and down her arm before smiling at her and turning back to his car. 

She had no idea what prompted her, but she found herself calling out to him.

“I left him yesterday.”

Dean froze and then slowly turned back to face her. His face was carefully blank, something she’d never seen from him before, she couldn’t read him at all.

Eventually he looked away from her, off into the distance, and she saw the muscle jump in his jaw again; that was almost always a sign that he was suppressing something, or was bothered by something. 

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” His voice was flat and she felt her heart lurch at his words.

She crossed her arms over her stomach and squeezed herself tightly. “I know that.” She said, trying not to sound defensive. “I didn’t do it for you.”

That was almost the truth.

He looked back at her and his eyes were hard. “Why are you telling me this? What do you expect me to say?”

She bit down hard on her lip, willing the tears back. She shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “I don’t expect anything. I just…just wanted to tell you.”

His phone beeped again, and he looked down at it quickly. “Fuck.” He said quietly. He glanced back at her. “Look, I can’t stay here, I gotta go.”

She nodded and waved him away, her heart splintering. “Sure, go.”

He stared at her a moment more before turning on his heel and walking away, as she’d always known would happen.

NEW TAGS 2:

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous

[marvelettesassemblenow]

Tati's Flufftober Three - Thick as Thieves

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha is soft - but only when you’re around

Word Count: 500

Warnings: use of a knife for pumpkin carving

A/N: This is my third entry for @flufftober

Black Widow – a strong, woman who could (almost) kill with a look, but definitely with her body. 

Natasha Romanoff – one of the softest women you could ever meet – at least around you. 

While she was friends with Steve and all the others, she always had a very soft spot for you. Not that she would ever admit it, but if you looked closely, you could clearly see it. It wasn’t like she would ever deny it, but this knowledge was for closed doors. 

Every time Natasha wasn’t needed as Black Widow, she loved to spend her time with you. Sometimes it was pumpkin carving, because you thought it would look cool. But in the end, you were jealous of the face that Nat had managed to create while you struggled to push the knife through the pumpkin. Cooking wasn’t Natashas strong suit but you both tried at least and sometimes it was really good while other times you rather ordered take away. The others stopped commenting about how the two of you were joined at the hip when she threw them one of her looks. 

Now a fond smile crossed Steve’s face when he saw the tension leaving Natashas body as soon as she spotted you. “Are you ready for movie night?” you asked her excitedly.  

“Yes, give me a second to change,” she said no less excited than you, kissed your cheek before she made her way towards her room. 

“You're good for her,” Steve said once his eyes meet yours when you stopped looking after her. 

“You look out for her out there,” you pointed out of the window, “and I do it here. This is also important!” You opened your arms and gave him a hug. “Don’t spend your evening alone.”  

He looked like his mind was running wild before he gave a short nod. “I will. Enjoy your night,” he said before he walked into the opposite direction of you. 

You quickly grabbed the things you had bought from the cupboard and walked over to your room. You placed the snacks on your table, opened the right menu on the TV and picked up a movie that Nat wanted to watch. 

It didn’t take long for her to arrive and after a short knock she came into the room. She looked adorable with her fuzzy socks, some leggings and a sweater way too big for her. She noticed your gaze. “I told Rogers it looked comfortable 3 times, so I had to steal it when he didn’t offer it,” she shrugged and you laughed.  

Half an hour later the both of you were tangled on your couch, a cheesy hallmark movie on the screen that Natasha complained about the whole time, but secretly loved, and you stroking her hair. 

“Thank you,” she suddenly said. 

“Always,” you replied and kissed her hair before you continued to stroke it. This was your favorite part of the day with your favorite person. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No worries. We all got things to do. Here's a little somethings.

Steve knows his lady couldn’t have made that pie. But he was actually so rude for saying he thought about other women while he trapped one of his own. Apparently Bucky was smart to keep his girl away from Steve. Steve’s girl seems to like him to a degree but also fear him. Does it ever become too much and she tries to escape like Bucky’s girl told her she should? Does she face consequences for giving Steve’s reader the suggestion?

I have woken up and am still choosing violence.

Exit Plan

Bucky: Just Desserts, Three’s Company

Continuation of Baked Over, Know Better

No explicit warnings but you know the tone of my work. Steve is controlling.

Please let me know what you think <3

🥧🥧🥧

You’re distracted. Have been for weeks. Ever since that night with Bucky’s wife and her foreboding words. And those that came after, from Steve, the ones that made you think, that sank into your stomach like a knife.

At first, you try to ignore it. The feelings of inadequacy and those of helplessness. Well, you’re not useless and you're not hopeless. Before Steve you had an apartment and a job and a life. How is that after Steve, all that disappeared?

You wipe down the counters as the aroma of your efforts rises in the air. Not quite a pie but a crisp, easier but just as good. You hope it keeps him happy, keeps him unaware. You just have to act like everything is as it was. You just have to wait.

You shake out the cloth and squeeze it out before going to dump it in the laundry room. The problem with you is how easily your mind wanders. You're behind on chores, trying to catch up before he notices. And he always does. It makes you miss your customer service job.

You toss the cloth in the bottom of the machine and turn to add the basket of laundry machine you brought down from the bedroom. You mull as you add each garment, you never wanted to be a housewife and you aren’t just yet. You’re just playing the part Steve wants. And it happened so fast.

Your first date blended into the next, before you knew it, Steve came to see after every mission. So it was that you saw him as your hero when you got the eviction notice that the whole building was being reappropriated. Before you could even figure that out, you lost your job. And he was so understanding. He could guess your lack of familial relationship by how you never mentioned it.

You sigh and add a soap pod. You shut the lid and set the mode, hitting start with a beep that triggers bright blue numbers on the tiny black screen. The washer begins to spin as you grip the corners and think.

You’ll have to start over but you did it before.

The steady whir of the machine calms you as you remain. Can you really do it? That doubt grows with each day of monotony without interruption. Of your empty inbox and lifeless phone.

“‘Thank you for your interest in the Product Expert position. While we were impressed with your skills and experience, we are sorry to inform you that your resume did not fit Clarity’s needs at this time.’” You turn to face Steve as his voice fills the room and you press yourself to the machine.

“Captain?” You round your eyes, “what’s that?”

“You know what it is,” he lowers his phone.

You gape at him, horrified. 

“Please, Captain, it’s from an old application I submitted before. You know how long it takes to get a response–”

“Oh?” He taps on his phone, standing in the door so that there is no escape around him, “application submitted… two weeks ago. You know how I feel about lying.”

You gulp and push yourself away from the machine, “I only wanted to help out more. Bring in some extra money–”

“We don’t need money,” he snarls and whips his phone away from him. Despite the case and extra sheet of protection across the screen, it falls to pieces, “don’t I give you everything you need?”

His hand balls as he comes closer and you sway as you struggle not to cower. You bite your lip as he stops in front of you and he grabs your chin harshly. You gasp as his strength forces your jaw open.

“Stop chewing your fucking lip,” he growls as he looms over you, “and tell me the fucking truth.”

[irradiatedbearchewtoy]

this is written with the intention of being accessible to people who have only watched post-2005 doctor who but who knows how that will go

i want to talk about a really cool controversial-but-not-in-the-way-where-people-are-arguing-about-if-bigotry-is-acceptable-way classic doctor who serial. if you sit until the end, you get to see a selection of alien designs from other 60s serials

if you're familiar with this story, happy humming! if you're not, hopefully you will know exactly what i mean by that very soon.

if you haven't seen classic who—or at least 60s who—before, this may not be the best serial to convince you of how exciting it is, but i'm running on no sleep, a newly released episode, caffeine, and audhd so i'm at least going to try. my apologies for the stream on consciousness; i have tried to make myself somewhat coherent...

the serial in question is the 1966 pure historical 4-parter 'the gunfighters'. pure historical here meaning set in the past with no science fiction elements.

these were standard in the first few years of the show but stopped after 'the highlanders' in late '66/early '67. there was one after that—'black orchid', in '82—but the time period was less relevant and it wasn't to do with any notable historical events or figures.

the first doctor, steven, and dodo land in tombstone, arizona because the doctor has a toothache after eating a sweet in the previous serial, 'the celestial toymaker'—a serial a lot more revival-only fans are now somewhat aware of since the toymaker's appearance in the 60th anniversary special 'the giggle'—and wants to see a dentist. steven and dodo put on awful american accents the whole time. they get caught up with doc holliday (who ends up pulling the doctor's tooth) and wyatt earp, among others.

a song called 'the ballad of the last chance saloon' plays over (almost?) every transition shot. i love it, but not everyone does; people have very strong opinions about that song. if you don't like it, this serial is a lot to swallow, as it plays over 30 times in less than 2 hours. steven is forced to sing this song at gunpoint while dodo plays the piano. i wanted to just insert a still of that but i think some of you who wont watch the serial or search out clips need to see it.

speaking of the gunpoint thing, there's a good chunk of violence in this one. people get shot with actual non-laser guns and someone almost gets hanged, noose around the neck and all. this isn't abnormal for 60s who. before colour came into the picture, the doctor used to whack people around all the time. a personal favourite of mine is in 'the highlanders' when the second doctor beats up a lawyer, gags him, and locks him in a closet. even in the very first serial, 'an unearthly child', a guy is stoned to death on-screen.

'the ballad of the last chance saloon' has been released officially, most widely when it was released on streaming platforms in 2013 as part of a 50th anniversary album. that version was pulled from streaming a while ago, leaving a very sad gap in many of my playlists. even before removal, that version was cut down from the full 10:34 to 3:51!! which is probably a good thing, because that track can be a powerful weapon against the right target. here is the full version, for your listening pleasure.

on top of it just being a fun story that sticks in people's minds because of the music, there are some cool notable production/show lore moments linked to the serial. yes, you can find these all on tardis wiki, shh

doc holliday's actor, anthony jacobs, brought his 10-year-old son to set, as a treat for his birthday (the birthday detail is mentioned in this ABC radio interview from 2022). that son was named matthew jacobs and went on to write the 1996 tv film starring paul mcgann as the eighth doctor.

it was the only (on-screen) story to take place fully in the united states of america until... the tv film!

it marked the last serial for every episode to have its own name. after this, episodes are simply numbered. there are some exceptions later on in the show, but this was the end of the standard practice.

it hosts the only episode title in classic, 'a holiday for the Doctor', to refer to the character of the Doctor as such instead of Doctor Who

was this a big pile of nothing? maybe? but here are your 60s alien photos, as promised. all photos are from the tragical history tour collection! x x

finally, this is an open invitation to reblog adding as much as you wish about the gunfighters or any other classic/wilderness stories that you want to talk about. my only request is that you make it an unhinged as possible. ik that's tall talk considered this post and episode aren't notably unhinged but just go with it, okay?

i kind of want to do a bunch of these just rambling about classic stories to try and get people to actually watch it but i'm not committing to that so. we'll see.

[trytofic]

Video Games

Day 2! I'm doing pretty well with these prompts! I'm loving doing this! hehe <3 These will be crossposted on my Ao3! Thank you to @shadamytober <3

Day 2: Video Games

Ao3

Amy makes a character that looks a lot like Shadow.

Spending hours with tails will make anyone start to enjoy different hobbies. Sonic and Tails played video games and talked about repairing tech. Knuckles enjoyed talking about books with Tails. Amy always enjoyed cooking with him but one day a video game caught her eye and she played it for hours once she got home. 

It was a MMO, that at first, she was a little skeptical about until she noticed how much you could customize your characters. Your whole party was customizable and the outfits you could pick from made her want to play even more so she could unlock everything she wanted. Her party was a powerhouse, all attack and strength, less on the defense, but her character was all the speed she needed to get through any fight.

One day as she was at home finishing a quest, her front door burst open from Sonic and Tails. She got nervous as she looked at the two, immediately covering the screen. She wasn't ashamed of the game per se, but her characters specifically made her nervous. 

“Amy, are you playing that MMO I started a few weeks ago?”

“Uhh, well I..”

“I never knew you were into this kind of stuff, Ames!” Sonic inched closer to the screen and she blocked her character from his view with her hands.

“You’re such a high level! Oh and that armor, I’ve never seen it!” Tails inches closer to try and peak at the game closer. When Amy’s face turned bright red Sonic smirked and grabbed Amy holding her away from the computer.

“Tell us more Tails!” He laughed as she wiggled in his arms. 

Tails walked over to the computer and clicked on her party. Her player character was in gray armor with red and gold accents. The sword she had was named Arondight. He hovered over her stats and the speed was maxed out and the strength was almost at the max as all her other stats. 

“You got Arondight? That level is super hard and you need so many players to help get it! That's so cool Amy! It's based on the King Arthur legend and it's supposed to be super strong! Ah, see, there isn't even a durability bar! This is so cool Amy!”

“Yep, cool weapon, nothing else to see! Please let me go Sonic!” She shoved her hands on his face trying to free herself. 

“Wait, let's see the pretty face behind the helmet!” Sonic grinned. Amy jolted and she tried to get Tails to stop, but once he clicked “remove armor” she froze.

On screen showed a strong face, and black spiked hair with red streaks. His eyes were pointed, serious and stern, and very noticeably red. The two boys turned to see Amy’s face a bright red and her eyes looking anywhere but their faces. Sonic let Amy go and she simply pointed to the door. Sonic smirked and Tails shook his head no. 

“I wonder if Shadow might like this game. Maybe I should tell him to come over.”

“Sonic…” Tails reached out to his brother until Amy turned to Sonic.

“You breathe one word and I’ll make sure every town you visit never gives you chillie dogs again.” She stared into his eyes.

“You’ll have to beat me there first!” Sonic ran out of her house and Tails just watched as Amy covered her face. 

“I’ll make sure Shadow doesn't find out.” He told her.

“Thank you Tails. I just… want to make sure I don't say anything that will make our friendship awkward. I just need some time.”

“He will come around, Amy. Just take your time.” He waved running after his brother. 

Amy took in a deep breath trying to calm down. She had a crush on the darker hedgehog for a while now, but she didn't dare ruin their friendship after it took so long to get Shadow to open up in the first place. She smiled at the player character on the screen and shut the game off. She just needed a little bit of courage and some time. 

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children: Redux | I. In Lieu of Flowers

Starting off my crossposting journey with PC:R <3

There is no Clockwork there to rewind time after the Nasty Burger explosion. Danny Fenton, having witnessed his friends and family die a fiery death, struggles to cope with his loss and the looming future that awaits him. So when an unlikely source offers a hand to help, he takes it. Three years later, Batman is called upon to help solve a string of impossible murders in Gotham that end up entangling him to the mysteries of Amity Park. -- A Rewrite of Phantom Children ft. A shiny new plot, longer chapters, and stronger prose!

A DPxDC crossover // Read on [AO3} or [FFN.net]

MASTERPOST // Next Chapter →

Three Years Ago…

Danny Fenton was fourteen when his world ended for the third time.

And no, this wasn’t the product of teenage melodrama. Rather it’s the result of the universe’s spirited efforts in making Danny’s life a veritable punching bag for any deity to come over and fuck it up . 

He certainly didn’t ask to half-die not once, but twice , and be responsible for this godforsaken town. That’s a thing heroes do. Or sidekicks that train under heroes. Not some dumb kid barely halfway through his first semester of high school and who was incapable of keeping his grades higher than a C . 

But, well, this was what he got for playing hero, right? Dead parents, dead sister, and dead friends, all because he was too goddamn slow .

(The prerequisite to every hero: a tragic backstory. Guess it was finally his turn.)

The weather went from a light mist to a drizzle, raindrops falling in uneven staccato on the cluster of black umbrellas. He could barely hear the ceremony— not that he was able to pay much attention anyway. Danny tried to. He did. But his mind was a blue screen— had been for the past few weeks—and the preacher’s words were just going in one ear and out the other in loud static.

His fingers curled around the velvet pouch in his pocket, grounding himself. He’d dug it out from its lockbox in the depths of his closet for this exact reason. 

In front of Danny was a single plot reserved for the Fenton family, the grass undisturbed except for the muddy dirt and drooping flowers around the erected marble obelisk that stood atop the plot. (Undisturbed because there wasn’t any need to dig up the ground for a coffin. You’d need bodies for that, and there were hardly any left after—) At the obelisk’s base was a bronze placard engraved with the names of three of the people who once comprised Danny's whole world, and an epitaph: Gone but Never Forgotten. 

Vlad must have chosen it. The obelisk was his decision too; excessive and grand because he would provide nothing less for his greatest enemy, his greatest love, and their wonderful, genius, perfect daughter. 

Danny looked away from the monument, his hair a damp curtain that shadowed his eyes. No mom left to brush it out of the way. No dad to ruffle it into something even messier. There’s a— a pressure at the back of his throat that nauseated him to the point of discomfort but not enough to actually vomit in the nearest shrubbery. He rubbed his scratchy throat with his free hand, letting it rest by his clavicle. Right above where his heart was being mercilessly squeezed by his own guilty conscience. 

He should have been the one to plan his family’s funeral. The one to write their obituary. The one to choose the headstone. The flowers. The date. Everything. It was his responsibility. His duty to make all these decisions as the— 

Danny bit the inside of his lip.

He should have been more responsible. Should have been— oh he didn't know— there when all the decisions were made instead of holing up in a corner of the Zone and letting Vlad take care of it all. God, what kind of son was he to have the audacity to get his family killed and foist off arranging the funeral to the guy who wanted to kill his dad . 

But maybe that was better. Leaving the decision-making to someone else, that is. God knows that Danny makes all the wrong choices.

(If only he was faster he was stronger he saved his family before going after his evil future selfhe gave back the test answers sooner that boiler never overheated.)

The hand on his shoulder nearly made Danny jump out of his skin. 

He shifted his umbrella to see his aunt Alicia looking down at him, concern and pity softening her usually stoic features. Vlad flew her in from Spittoon. When? Danny didn’t know, though somewhere in his foggy memories he might have recalled Vlad asking how to reach Danny’s relatives. It was only aunt Alicia who came in the end, though. His mom and aunt Alicia never liked to talk about their parents, and his dad was an only child who was far too estranged from his own.

“Ceremony’s over, kid. You okay?” 

He’d scoff, but he didn’t want to tempt his nausea. 

“I’ll live.” He winced, the words bitter on his tongue. “I’m fine, I mean.” 

Aunt Alicia pressed her lips into a thin, flat line. “The rain’s getting a little worse. Do you want to head back home?”

Home? Where even was that anymore? 

“I think I wanna stay out here for now.”

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

“No— I just…I want to be alone, I think.”

She sighed, giving a comforting squeeze to his shoulder before dropping her hand. “Alright. I’ll just be waiting for you in the car then.”

Danny nodded absentmindedly, gaze trained on the drooping white lilies by the placard. At the corner of his eye, he saw Vlad approach aunt Alicia, somber-faced but calculating as they headed to the car.

The future he tried to escape was already playing out. Pieces slotting into place like some jigsaw puzzle of doom. 

In his quiet moments, holed up in the corner of his parents’ room, he’d ponder the what-ifs. The should-have, could-have, would-have-beens. He’d think of the future in all its terrible glory and wonder where else it could have all gone wrong. The trigger was—surprise, surprise— Vlad. Or, living with him, that is. If he wanted to put an ounce of trust in that sob story future-Vlad spun, then it was Danny’s own grief coupled with Vlad’s invention that sent the world spinning into its destruction.

(Future-Vlad might have helped him. Might have turned over a new leaf. But there was an entire decade that separated Future-Vlad from the present- Vlad. And Danny would rather cut off his own arm than trust present-Vlad with anything related to Danny’s well-being.)

Danny knew jack shit about the adoption process, but he was 80% sure most social workers would place Danny with his aunt as opposed to his parents’ old college buddy that they recently connected with. That Danny ended up living with Vlad meant that either Aunt Alicia didn’t pass whatever assessment the state required, or Vlad used his influence to tip the scales in his favor. Probably both. 

So the law would never let him live with anyone but Vlad— the fruit loop would make sure of that. Danny’s only option left was to run away, then.

Hm. How long could one half-dead fourteen-year-old realistically outrun a half-dead crazy billionaire with enough connections in both the human world and the Ghost Zone? 

Survey says—

Fuck .

“Our condolences, Daniel.” 

Danny startled. Who the—

He tilted his head the other way, shifting his focus to the woman who just appeared next to him. Sure Danny found his own attention slipping into darker places more often than not these days, but he should have noticed if someone came near him.

No, wait. Aunt Alicia managed to sneak up on him earlier. Maybe Danny really was just out of it. 

 “The doctors Fenton did brilliant work, and your sister had such a bright future ahead of her. Their loss will be felt.”

“Thank you,” Danny answered. The words are still ash on his tongue but he didn’t stumble over them anymore. “I…appreciate your support.”

The woman was tall, with a wiry physique and cool tawny skin. She had an oval face, a straight nose, and sharp features, though much of it was slightly obscured by her hat, the black netting ending just past her nose. Her hands were tucked into the pockets of her long black coat. 

The man—and Danny knew he’d seen him somewhere before, it was on the tip of his tongue—shared in the similar sharp characteristics, but his coloring was a lot lighter. He had long white hair that extended past his shoulders and a long horseshoe mustache that should have looked stupid, but somehow he managed to make it work. He held a single umbrella for both himself and the woman.

His mind clicked. Recognition alight on his face. 

“Mr. Dusan?”

Dusan smiled. “I am pleased that you still remember me, Daniel.”

Mr. Dusan, if Danny remembered correctly, was his parents’ liaison with their benefactor. The CEO of some sort of big research company whose name Danny never really bothered to pay attention to. They had been funding his parents’ research since their university days, and it was because of them that the Fentons managed to get their hands on enough samples of ectoplasm to experiment and research on. Mr. Dusan would be sent every once in a while to observe his parents’ studies, much to the Fenton family’s stress and delight. His visits would be preceded with days of cleaning the house from top to bottom and Danny’s parents frantically getting their stuff organized. But a good visit from Mr. Dusan always ended with the family going out for a nice dinner the day after. 

It was one of Danny’s favorite times, really.

“Just Danny, please.”

“Danny, then,” Dusan said. “May I introduce you to my sister, Talia al Ghul?”

Sister? Danny raised his hand for a handshake, deciding not to comment on the age difference. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m, uh, sorry it’s not during better circumstances.”

Talia shook his hand with a closed-lipped, but somber smile. “Our employer—your parents’ benefactor—actually sent us to give his condolences, and to extend a helping hand if you should ever need it.”

“What?”

“Your parents were pioneers, Danny. Their research changed the face of the world as we know it despite how much they were ridiculed for it. It would be remiss of their benefactor to simply leave their legacy, their only son, alone to the wolves.” Her voice was smooth and honey-sweet, and Danny felt compelled to listen. “If you need anything, anything at all, feel free to reach out to us.” 

She handed him a business card. It was crisp, made from thick card stock. Blank except for a single number in the middle. 

Danny turned it over in his hand. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

He tucked it into his pocket. “Thank you for your offer. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“We will be in town for the next few days,” Dusan said. “We hope to hear from you soon.”

◆◆◆

Later, aunt Alicia asked if Danny would rather stay with her at the hotel. She’d ask this every time they parted ways, and each time Danny would say no, thank you.

She didn’t push too much. Knew, probably, that it was only a matter of time that Danny would have to leave his house to live…wherever it was his social worker decided to stick him in.

Danny appreciated her concern— even if he would rather do without it. 

He slipped off his black suit jacket, throwing it over the back of the couch as he walked past the living room. His mom would throw a fit at that. He scrambled down to the lab, taking the steps two at a time, hands wrenching the tie from around his neck—and god fuck why did his skin feel so hot. The tie ended up somewhere on the steps, the velvet bag safely stowed away in a drawer full of blueprints. He kicked off his stupid dress shoes. A safety hazard, his dad would say. The lab floor needed to be clear at all times to prevent an accident.

Too fucking late for that.

White rings passed through him with blinding fury as Danny burst through the portal between dimensions and into the silence of the Ghost Zone. 

He floated. Aimless.

And breathed. 

◆◆◆

Danny picked a direction. Eenie-meenie-minie-moe . It’s no use trying to logic out directions in the Ghost Zone. Not when the islands thought of physics as nothing more than a joke. He set off north-north-west of the portal and tried his luck there.

Tucker and Sam would call him stupid. There were probably a billion-and-one better ways to find Clockwork’s stupid tower than this. 

Jazz would say he’s still stuck on the bargaining stage—

Jazz can’t say anything anymore.

None of them can.

◆◆◆

Jessica Andrews, his social worker, took him out to a quiet cafe to talk. She was a tall woman with a stocky frame, brown skin, and a soft rounded face. Her nails were painted a light green; it was to match her plants, she’d say. Once, she’d told him about how her husband would complain about all the plants she bought because he couldn’t figure out where the jungle stopped and the house began. 

The cafe was far enough away from most schools and built below some bible store, its facade made from faded red brick with a charcoal gray awning. A few circular tables and chairs were laid out front, though they sat empty. The weather had been everything but gloomy for the past few days.

Jessica clasped her hands over the table, green nails tap-tap-tapping against her knuckles. “How have you been holding up, Danny?” 

They’re seated by the giant window, though there wasn’t much to look at on the other side. Just the road and more old buildings on the other side. 

“‘M fine.”

“That’s wonderful.” She could tell that he was lying; he’d bet on it. “How has your sleep been?”

Danny pointedly drank his coffee— brewed as dark as he could with as many espresso shots he could manage to order without the barista giving him a strange look. “Fine.”

She raised an eyebrow. “The black holes under your eyes beg to differ.”

“I’d rather skip all this small talk if that’s ok.”

“Alright, if that’s what you want.” She brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face. “I promised you early on that I’d keep you informed of how the courts are handling your case.”

He huffed, sinking into his chair. He already knew the outcome. “They decide where to stick me yet?”

“They’re still doing their due diligence and contacting as many of your adult relatives as possible in order to find a suitable guardian.”

“I’m sensing some sort of catch here.”

“The people looking over your case have considered your request to be placed with your aunt Alicia.”

“They said no.”

“They had some…concerns,” she said. “Your aunt’s residence is very isolated, which might prevent you from getting the proper help you need. There were also some concerns about how you would handle a sudden dramatic shift in lifestyles, what with being moved away from your school, your community, your peers, into someplace extremely unfamiliar.”

Danny leveled a look at her. “There’s something else, too, isn’t there.”

Jessica gave him a look of pity. “Your aunt also expressed some…hesitancy in taking you in when we talked with her.”

His breath caught. Teeth gnawed at the inside of his lip. Fuck. He rubbed the back of his neck, slowly inching it up to tug at the back of his hair, the other hand curling into a fist beneath the table. Fuck—

He knew he knew this would happen but he still—

—Can’t believe that he held onto that—

—What was he thinking?

“Danny?”

Fingernails dug crescents into the inside of his palm. He takes a deep breath. “Yeah, no, I’m fine. Don’t— I’m fine. It’s fine.”

He shivered.

 Dan’s laughter echoed from the back of his skull, mocking him. It’s inevitable, Dan crowed. I am inevitable. You can’t stop the future any more than you could stop the sun from rising.

◆◆◆

Clockwork’s tower was nowhere to be found. Danny didn’t know why he kept on searching. Sheer stubbornness, maybe. Some foolish hope beyond all hope that if he begged hard enough, Clockwork would be willing to do him a favor and rewind time back to when everything made sense. 

Sometimes Danny doesn’t even go to the Ghost Zone to find him. 

Sometimes he’ll just find some patch of the Zone with enough floating rocks and scream. Scream until his voice is hoarse and he could no longer sustain his ghost form. Until the rocks are nothing but pebbles floating in the green void. Until all that’s left is the freezing cold inside of him.

The ghosts had been staying away from Amity Park. 

Good.

He didn’t know what he would do if any of them showed up now.

Danny woke up with his skin freezing-on-fire-cold-too-cold-he-can’t-stop-sweating. He didn’t remember calling anyone, but he must have, considering that someone showed up in his room with a bowl of chicken soup and a glass of Gatorade. 

He should’ve been more alarmed at this— there was a stranger in his house. But right now his head was begging to be smashed in with a hammer and he’s just glad that he was not alone.

“Do you think you could sit up and eat, Danny?” The figure sat down at the edge of his bed, one hand on top of the blanket cocoon he made for himself. A woman. An accent that was definitely not American. British, maybe? Either way, not aunt Alicia. 

His stomach rumbled. At least this time it didn’t feel like throwing up everything. Danny pushed himself up with aching slowness, leaning back against the headboard. Bleariness blinked away from his eyes, he saw his caretaker’s features more clearly. It was—it started with a T. Tania? Tasnia? No, Talia was the name. Mr. Dusan’s sister.

“Ms. al Ghul? What are you doing here?”

“You don’t remember?” She sets the bowl down on his bedside table, in easy reach, and hands him the glass. “You called the number Dusan and I gave to you sounding delirious. We were worried but Dusan had some pressing business to attend to, so I came on my own.”

“Oh.” The drink was heaven to his parched throat. “How did you get inside?”

Her eyes—a unique shade of green—sparkled with mirth. “I have my ways.”

“Oh-kay .” He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “Thank you. For coming all this way, I mean. You really shouldn’t have to come and take care of some kid you just met.”

“Nonsense, Danny. I could hardly leave you alone in such conditions, it would be against my instincts as a mother.”

“You have kids?”

“I have one,” she said, then paused as if contemplating something. “No, I had two.”

Danny bit the inside of his cheek, thumb wiping away the condensation on the surface of his now empty glass. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Talia let out a sad sort of chuckle. “Thank you, though it’s not needed. He’s— my eldest son—isn’t dead. Certain circumstances forced me into the position to give him up for adoption. He’s alive and well, hopefully, though he probably doesn’t know that I exist.”

Oh. Danny didn’t know what to say to that.

“You didn’t try to get into contact with him?”

“What would be the point? He has his own parents now, a life free of complications. The best I could hope for was that he kept the memento I gave him.”

“A memento?”

“A necklace.”

Danny stilled. 

It was stupid. Foolish even, to think about it. There are like over seven billion people in the world.

“What kind of necklace, if you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

Talia smiled, eyes glazed as if in memory. “It was a present from his father. A beautiful work of art, it was. It was a sapphire necklace— with two rows of sapphires, to be exact, cut in perfect circles and polished to a shine.”

The velvet bag Danny had tucked beneath his pillow burned at the back of Danny’s mind. It can’t be. That was too much of a coincidence.

“Each sapphire was surrounded by gold, though there were small diamonds that surrounded the larger sapphires.”

Oh god, oh god. What was his life?

“Though beautiful, my favorite part of it had to be what was within the middle sapphire. It was possible to open it, you see. And engraved inside were the words—”

“‘ For the greatest happiness you have given me.’”

Talia looked at him, green eyes wide. “How did you know?”

Danny found himself unable to look at her. Gingerly, he set his glass bedside table, next to his cooling bowl of chicken soup, and retrieved the velvet pouch beneath his pillow. He held the bag to her, almost reluctantly, but relinquished it once it was in her grip.

Talia opened the bag and drew out a necklace. Two rows of sapphires inlaid in gold, with the largest ones surrounded by tiny diamonds. It was beautiful, though perhaps it no longer shone as it once did. 

She beheld it in silence, fingers tracing the exquisite craftsmanship as if, at first, in disbelief, then in reverence. She stopped at the large sapphire on the bottom row. 

After a moment, she opened it.

“My parents told me I was adopted when I was six,” Danny said, unable to take the silence any longer. He tangled his fingers together, clasping and unclasping them. “They gave me that necklace— said it was from my birth mother. They never knew who she was, and the orphanage they got me from had no information either.”

Tucker and Sam once asked him if he ever wanted to know who his birth mother was. Danny wasn’t sure what he wanted, really. Sometimes he wondered about it, but he was content with not knowing for the most part. His parents were his parents, blood relation or no, and he looked similar enough to Jack Fenton in coloring that most people didn’t question why his skin wasn’t as light as theirs, or why his features were a lot sharper than theirs.

(Tucker and Sam never knew about the necklace. It was hard to explain why he never told them considering he’d tell them just about anything else— but it was different. It was…something just for him. A cold comfort in knowing that, at one point, he was someone’s ‘greatest happiness.’)

He coughed into his elbow, a shiver racking his spine.

Warm arms enveloped him into a hug. 

“ It’s you, ” Talia whispered. “ It’s you.”

Something inside Danny seemed to click back into place. His core thrummed gently, humming a litany of feelings and words he couldn’t translate. Some are apprehensive. Others are confused. But most of all it felt…happy.

Warm.

◆◆◆

“You know that I’m adopted, right?” Danny said to Mrs. Andrews when they met up again. It was a park this time; she was really adamant about getting him out of his house. 

“I am aware, yes.”

“When you mentioned that all my relatives would be identified and informed… does my biological mother count too?”

Mrs. Andrews exhaled between her teeth. “I know what you’re asking about, but I’m afraid it isn’t an option. In adoption cases like yours, the biological parents usually relinquish all parental rights over the child. Even if we did find your biological mother, the court would never let her have custody over you again.”

He shivered, pulling his jacket closer around him, and wondered why he still put so much faith in the legal system. 

◆◆◆

It was only a matter of time before Vlad came to visit him once again.

“What do you want, Vlad .”

The black bags beneath Vlad’s eyes were the only thing unkempt about his otherwise neat appearance. Mourning or not, his smile still made Danny’s fist itch to punch it. “Why, little badger, can I not see how the son of my oldest friends is doing?”

“I’m not living with you, you fruit loop.”

Vlad rolled his eyes. “Really, Daniel, this disinclination of yours is getting tiring. Just accept it and the moving process will be much, much easier.”

Danny glared at him, green eyes livid. His teeth bared and gnashing. “I’d rather die than live with you.”

“Well, you’re already halfway there. Need help finishing the job?”

He swung his fist at him, but Vlad caught it with ease. “Get out of my house!”

“There’s no use in being difficult, now. You know as well as I do that the courts will inevitably choose me .”

( Inevitable, Dan had said. Inevitable inevitable inevitable.)

“Shut up.” Danny seethed. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” 

As he tore his hand away from Vlad’s grip, a spark of power burst in between them in a blinding white light and bitter cold. Vlad threw up a shield, but Danny was too caught off guard. He was blasted back, knees hitting the armrest on the couch and nearly making him stumble. When the light cleared, Danny could see swathes of crystalline ice and frost embedded in the middle of the living room.

Frost had crept up Vlad’s shield, coating it in a thin wall of ice which broke the second Vlad released the barrier. Vlad looked down at the ice, face flashing between surprise, confusion, awe, before settling into a patronizing smile. 

“Do you see now?” Vlad said, gesturing to the ice. “This is why I’m the only one suitable to be your guardian. I am the only one that can understand you. That knows your needs as a young half-ghost. That can guide you and teach you.”

A bitter cold shook Danny’s body to the core, frost seeping into his bones and the bite of winter in his lungs. A thin layer of frost coated his palms and fingertips. His face is flushed. He feels hot but the shivers won’t stop.

Vlad approached, arms opened wide like he’s approaching some scared animal. Like a little badger. 

Danny hissed at him, scrambling to his feet to place the couch between them. 

“Come on, Daniel, just let me take care of you.”

“Go to hell, Vlad!”

“Tch.” Vlad dropped his hands, fingers dragging through his hair in exasperation. “Fine. You know what, fine. Have it your way. Perhaps some time experiencing the mania will help you understand my meaning.” He went to the door with a frustrating degree of calm. His suit cleanly pressed, not a strand misplaced in his hair, a total contrast to Danny who felt seconds away from collapsing on the floor. 

“Do try to keep a hold of yourself, though,” Vlad said over his shoulder. “Your parents might be dead, but they are hardly the only ghost hunters around.”

He slammed the door shut. 

Danny sank to his knees, arms wrapped around himself as he vigorously tried to rub his skin warm. What was wrong with him? 

Was his sickness a few days ago related to this? He thought he just caught some sort of bug, or, or it was the stress of it all affecting his body, but the ice—

This wasn’t a normal sickness.

Vlad called it a mania. What did that mean?

He shook his head, arm reaching for the back of the couch and hauling himself up. Figuring out Vlad’s words wasn’t his biggest concern; right now, Danny needed a way to get rid of this ice. Talia and Mr. Dusan were coming over soon to go over his parents’ research, he needed to—

They can’t figure out that he’s—

Danny stumbled down to the lab, frantically looking for any of his parents’ inventions that could help get rid of the ice. 

No. No. Not that. Not that either. 

His arm suddenly went intangible, slipping through the lab bench. The sudden momentum made him lose balance and he hit his head on the side of the bench. He staggered upright, rubbing his pounding head. What was wrong with his powers? They hadn’t been this out of whack since he’d first gotten them in the accident.

A violent shiver ran through him, his breath coming out in a cold mist. Frost had begun to creep outwards from the soles of his shoes. 

Danny stepped back. The frost followed. 

His eyes darted around the room, mind racing for a solution. His frenzied gaze landed on the ghost portal, the entrance sealed shut by the heavy metal doors. Tucker once said that he noticed that Danny seemed to recover energy faster when he was in the Ghost Zone. They’d tested it at one point by letting the Box Ghost loose on the town and seeing how much energy Danny could recover if he rested in the material world versus the Ghost Zone.

It was still a working theory. Tucker and Sam wanted to test it out some more later.

They never got a chance.

It was a long shot but it was better than nothing. 

He ran to the front of the portal where the genetic locking mechanism lay. But as Danny went to push the button, ice sparked from his fingers, freezing the lock solid.

“What? No!” He slammed his fist onto the ice but the ice wouldn’t break. “Nononono, this can’t be happening right now.” 

He shivered, eyes holding a manic glint as he looked at the portal. “I’m going ghost!” Bright rings of light enveloped him, and suddenly it became impossibly colder. 

Floating in the air, Danny curled in on himself, teeth chattering as he tried to regain his composure. He flew to the portal, willing himself intangible as he tried to go through the doors, but slammed into cold metal instead. Either whatever materials his parents made the door out of completely negated his intangibility or his powers were in really bad shape.

He got up, hands pressed against the portal doors. He willed himself intangible once more, but instead of his arms passing through the doors, a thick sheet of ice sprouted from his hands and started crawling up the portal. “No!”

Danny tore his hands away from the door but the ice kept growing and growing and growing. Stretched across the doors until it covered the entire entrance to the portal. Its jagged ends stopped past the octagonal metal frame and clung to the walls.

Oh god, This can’t get any worse.

“Danny?”

And then it did.

He took a deep breath. Like a deer in headlights, he turned around to see Talia and Mr. Dusan at the foot of the basement stairs. Talia was in front, a hand braced against the wall, one foot on the floor and one still on the step. Dusan, ever the statuesque figure, was right behind, hands still clasped behind his back. Their eyes were, mouth slightly agape at the sight of him.

It was then that Danny registered what Talia said. 

The words tumbled out of him, “You recognized me?” 

He clamped his mouth shut. Idiot. 

Talia took her hand off the wall and stepped completely into the lab. “Of course, I would. You’re my son.”

The words sent a brief spark of warmth through his core. Not even his own parents recognized him when he was Phantom. 

“I wasn’t aware that you were a meta, Danny.” She gracefully stepped around the patches of ice on the ground. “How long has this been going on?”

“Um, uh. A few months.” At this point, there really was no point in lying. “Since the start of the semester.”

“A lab accident, I presume.”

“Yeah….uh, how did you know?”

The corners of her mouth quirked up. “No one on my side of the family has the meta gene, and while your father is quite impressive, I’m very certain he does not have it either. An accident of some sort would be the only other option.”

He felt himself start to relax, muscles starting to relax at the sound of Talia’s calm voice. The shivers were still present, but somehow they were a little more bearable. 

“Now why don’t you explain to us what happened?”

“I don’t—” Danny swallowed a lump in his throat. “I don’t even know what’s going on, much less where to begin. All I know is that I’ve been feeling out of sorts for the past few weeks. I thought I was just sick but apparently, it’s way more than that, and I don’t know what to do, I barely even know what I am, much less what’s wrong with me and that fever must have done something because ever since then my powers have been on the fritz and there’s this stupid ice that won’t melt and I can’t keep it under control and if I can’t keep my powers under control how am I supposed to hide the fact that I’m a fucking ghost —”

“Slow down, slow down. You’re starting to panic. Now, I need you to take a few deep breaths for me,” she said, now a few feet away from Danny. “In for four…hold for seven…yes that’s it, you’re doing well…and out for eight.”

Calm began to seep back into Danny with each breath, his mind no longer racing a million miles an hour. “Thank you— thanks, I, um, I feel much better now.” 

“That’s good. Now, what was that about ghosts?”

“Uh, that I am one? Sort of? It’s complicated.”

“I guess we can get the full story later. Does anyone else know about this?”

“No, no one.” He paused, then grimaced. “Well, there’s one other person. He’s sort of like me and, before you ask, I can’t tell you who he is. The only other people who knew about me are the other ghosts and…Sam and Tucker.”

“Not your parents?” Dusan, who had been a silent observer till now, stepped closer.

Danny shook his head. “No, I— I never got the chance to tell them. At first, I wanted to keep it a secret because I didn’t want them to know about the accident, but afterward, it just became harder and harder, what with their research and ghosts and the government and I just…” He sank back down to the floor, despondent. “I just didn’t want them to feel…guilty, I guess.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “It doesn’t matter now, though. It’s too late to tell them either way.”

“Oh, Danny, habibi. My poor child.” Talia extended her arms out to embrace him, but Danny stepped back.

“I don’t— my powers they’re— I don’t want to hurt you.”

She smiled. “You won’t. Trust me.”

Danny…Danny found himself trusting her. He let the transformation fall, taking one step closer to Talia, his hand stretched out. Their hands touched, and Talia’s words rang true. The ice did not touch her, nor did the frost, and Danny breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“Well, this would certainly complicate the matters of your guardianship,” Dusan said, now a few feet away from them. “If I am of the correct assumption that you have no wish for anyone to know of your status. What of the man you mentioned—the one who is like you—could he take you in?”

“No. Never. That man is not an option.”

Talia carded her fingers through Danny’s hair in a soothing motion. “It is a shame we could not make a strong enough case to take custody of you.” She paused, humming pensively. “Although…” Turning to Dusan, she continued. “Do you think father would…?”

Dusan considered it. “Well, he would certainly be delighted at the prospect of another grandchild, especially one like Danny. But you know how he is.”

Danny looked at them inquisitively. Talia turned her attention back to him. “Our father—your grandfather—is a very powerful man. But he is a very secretive man, and much of his influence is in secrets and shadows. Much of his machinations he prefers to keep in the dark. But if you were willing to prove yourself to him, then it is not beyond his power to craft you a new life.”

“You—you’re talking about a new identity.”

“Daniel Fenton could never be with us,” Dusan said. “But Danyal al Ghul on the other hand….”

“I…” Danny lowered his gaze to the floor. Well, he was prepared, on some level, to give up his name. He had plans to run away, and going by ‘Danny Fenton’ would just be putting a target on his back if Vlad decided to look for him. 

“We could be a family, Danny,” Talia whispered. “Like we always should have been.”

Family. The words felt warm inside his chest. At the back of his mind, his core hummed eagerly at the prospect. Family-family-a-place-to-belong.

But to give up his name…to give up his life …would he really be willing to do that? But if he wasn’t, then being handed over to Vlad might as well be—

( Red eyes. A looming shadow. Screams unheard because of the explosion. A world in ruin. Inevitable. Inevitable.)

“ I’ll do it.” He steeled his resolve. There was no other choice. “I’ll go with you. What do I have to do?”

Talia grinned wide. Dusan’s eyes gleamed with approval. 

“Simple,” he said.  “We must kill Danny Fenton.”

[blacktobackmesa]

i think i remember you saying the science team would rewatch the videos together( like the cast commentaries,) and i was curious to see if you would talk a bit about that? like… how they reacted to certain things and scenes, if or how they talked it out, stuff like that… i’ve been wanting to ask this for sooooo long but just now got the confidence to, i love this verse sooooo much !!! its been living rent free in my head ever since i first read the series… its the only way i can think of post-canon i love it so much… ok thats all i hope you have a good day !!!

First I gotta say Thank You and I'm making my first official rent payment for the real estate in here. It has always been the goal to inspire people to think about the team like this and I am SO grateful for every ask sent and conversation had. But YES let's talk about watching

Gordon gave the team the option to watch the VODs and edits on their own, but was convinced to make it a group activity by his friends. This ended up being to precursor to their regular movie nights-- everybody met up in Tommy's basement to watch the edits together over a couple days. (Nobody wanted the emotional whiplash of going into Act 3 unprepared.)

One of the key things that everyone has a reaction to is what fonts and text colors Gordon chose for them.

Benrey likes his text color well enough, but would have preferred purple. He also thinks his font could have been something way cooler. He also thinks it's weird that he and Forzen have the same font, and accuses Gordon of being lazy.

Tommy tells Gordon that he likes his font and color, but it's hard to tell how he really feels. He does say that while his favorite color is actually red, he knows that can be a bit harder to read against a dark background.

Bubby is insulted that he was given Times New Roman, legendary as a default font, but changes his tune when told it's actually Sylfaen. Entirely different! With this, he and Coomer are both satisfied with their captions. In fact, their fonts are in their favorite colors... sort of. Coomer actually prefers cyan, while Bubby likes green.

Gordon actually got Darnold's favorite color dead on. He's started using his typeface, Terminal Grotesque, on most documents and correspondence. He hasn't verbally acknowledged this, but Gordon's noticed. It makes him smile.

G-Man thinks his font is very practical. That's all he's said on the matter.

Other Notable Reactions

Bubby had completely forgotten that Gordon didn't believe him about his name. Upon being reminded, he went "Wait, hang on, hang on. What the fuck, Gordon? Who DOES that?" (Darnold felt validated by this.)

Coomer laughs uproariously at his own jokes and slips of the tongue.

"So Tommy. Benrey said you like mean people, do you... do you have any idea what he meant by that?" "Oh! Well, you know." He failed to elaborate.

The screen going black during the ambush came as a surprise to the team. Everyone remembers actually seeing the events play out, though in hindsight, Coomer questions his own memory. There's a lot about that whole stretch of time that he has questions about, but he knows they can't be answered.

Bubby goes out of his way to point out situations where he was playing a trick or just straight-up lying to his friends. Part of it is for full disclosure, part is to brag about what a funny guy he is.

Gordon is uncomfortable with clips where he is condescending to or impatient with the science team. Benrey tries to diffuse his anxieties by pointing them out directly and highlighting all of his insecurities. He's a great friend. He tries his best.