#howd i do on the image id...

[snonkerdoodlefizzy221b]

[Image ID: meme of DJ Ashba staring into the void with the text overlay: "DUSTY WHEN DIPPER" (meme)]

[headmate-packages]

A package has arrived for you! Open it?

Shipping #00010011

📮💌📦

Package Number: 00010011 (19)

Name(s): Carcass

Nickname(s): Carter, Corpse-Adjacent

Orientation: Questioning

Pronouns: he/it/crypt/muse/corpse/death

Species: ghost

Age/range: Immortally 26

Gender: hauntgender masculine

Role: N/A

Interests: sensory deprivation tanks, musical scripting

Frontcalls: N/A

Likes: surfing, ocean, brain eating amoeba

Dislikes: The GhostBusters

Appearance: Appears slightly blue, often with drenched clothes and hair. His eyes are pale blue and it has brown, curly hair that appears moreso wavy because its wet.

Extra: Often complains of feeling cold, has made his peace with the ocean, but not with the cold. Pre-death name was Carter, but he’s changed it to what he finds cooler. Calls itself “Corpse-Adjacent” instead of saying crypts name

Sign off: 🫧

Kins: Poor Unfortunate Souls (The Little Mermaid)

Happy place: oceans and childhood homes

Hobbies: song writing, swimming

Passion: technical elements of play (specifically musical) writing and blocking and such

Favorite memory: Eating Breakfast with his mom the morning of his death

Headspace Room:

Image ID: A very blue room with built in a pixel room maker. There are two surfboars, a bed, water on the floor with a wet floor sign, floating jellyfish a neon moon sign, and a neon bubbles sign

Best friends: A black boy with an Afro named Jamir. Would get along with Beetlejuice if corpse knew him

Family: doesn't really have any anymore

Cause of death: drowned circa 2018. (The brain eating amoeba would have gotten muse anyways)

Handwriting:

Image ID: Blue pen cursive writing on lined paper. I have NO CLUE what it says but its about a paragraph long, signed, and has 2 hashtags on the bottom

Letter: Hey folks! Won’t tell you my name but I will say it stats with C and is Corpse-adjacent. Good luck with that ;] Anyways, sorry to barge in, but heard you were looking for some info on the whole, you know, being dead thing. Lucky for you I know a guy who knows a guy and that guy is me. I can show you what comes next long as you dont freak. “Howd you die?” Well we havent even met yet but sure, I’ll tell yeah. Used to go surfing like 8 times a week. Oof.Yeah, Its whatever though, you can relax cause I’m fine, and while I could keep going I kind of don’t feel like it, so when we do finally meet, I’ll give you a whole show about death

L8er

-Corpse-Adjacent

[kittykittyanon]

HOW DID U DO THAT TO UR PFP

OMGIE LOOKS GREAT THO

BUT OMGIE HOWD U DO THAT I NEED TO

idk id do it with this but ehm.....

FIZZYYYY!!!! HAAAIIII!!!!ヽ(>∀<☆)ノヽ(>∀<☆)ノ THANKYOUUUU!!!!

wowa!!! kitty tutorial time!!!! you need an editing app or site,, anything works — i use ibispaint X 'cause it's free an' generally easy to use so the whole tutorial will be centered around it;; download a pic of a santa hat off google images,, grab whichever one you want and remove the white background ((you can use a background remover app, a free website, or erase it on ibispaint itself - if you're having trouble you can @ me in a post with the pic or send it in an ask and i'll do it for you :D))

i'm not sure if you've used ibispaint before so i'll just go through the steps just in case,, open the app and go to "My Gallery",, then press the plus sign on the bottom left of your screen;; it's blue and next to an i with a circle around it. tap on "Import Picture" which is right under "Folder" and pick your original profile picture ((in this case,, the pack of fizzy candy!!)) if an ad comes up you can just tap out of it at the top right of your screen, and if a pop up comes up just cancel out of it ((though the popup also has an option to remove the background,, you can put in your santa hat and use that as another way to seperate your santa hat from the white bg - if you do this, save your pic by tapping on the arrow on the bottom right of your screen and then on "Save Image", then on "OK" and do the steps above & put your og pfp in instead of the santa hat)).

tap on the white box next to the arrow on the bottom right of your screen with the number 1,, it'll take you to where your layers are. on the right of your screen, under the mini version of your pfp,, tap on the camera icon and put in your santa hat. you can pinch and move the hat to wherever you want it,, and tap on "mesh form" to drag bits of the hat around to fit a can better.

this is all just to put the hat on your pfp,, the mini christmas lights are a bit more complex if you don't know how to use ibispaint. if you have any questions or problems,, you can send in an ask!!! :DD

[cuntspunsgunsfuns]

manifestation works

and here's what happened to me; my dream job, my final exams, money, make up, clothes i wanted, relationships, basically everything that i ever asked for and manifested, came to me. no bullshit.

i graduated last week, and there's (im not exactly sure if its called the SAT's) your final exams you have to take all of them when you're about to graduate and stuff. so mind you, in january i signed up for it, back then i had trouble with school learning and stuff, so i was pretty CONFIDENT that i signed up for nothing and i was gonna fail. and i wanted to study real bad, but i never did. so before the SATs i wanted to get a job like real bad after i was finished with school, and i was not close to getting one. and i was so lost, i felt like my life was over and i was so insecure about stuff, so i pretty much gave up trying. i was scrolling through tik tok and i found a video that was talking about how SUBLIMINALS work and that people are actually getting crazy results from listening to subliminals and stuff. i was desperate, and very much worn out but i still gave it a try, cause like it wont hurt and this stuff is really interesting to me. every morning before going to school, i sat In front of the mirror doing my make up and listening to a subliminal that was focused on like, getting my dream job. and i was getting ready and just imaging myself getting that call from the boss or some shit, and getting ready for work like it was all in my head.

deadass, i get a phone call saying that they were so interested by my application and they would like to offer me an internship just to see if i like it, if its something that its meant for me, if they'll see that i am capable of working here, and stuff.

guys, im gonna start working in september, and they pay me 2x more than what i thought they would.

i will always be thankful to myself for being patient and actually never losing hope, because sometimes it took too long for them to reach out to me, but in the end i got it.

i had three final exams left. and these were the most, intense, like the ones that count the most. and you cannot fuck up any of these exams because they are literally, the most important of all the exams you've done so far. i was not prepared, i didnt open a book to like at least try or something. i was walking in these exams confident about everything, like i know what im doing, i didnt learn shit but im here for it and im gonna pass it.

i had doubts but each time my mom asked me howd it go id tell her that i aced it and nothing to worry about. so math is the final exam, and its tomorrow, and im procrastinating each time, i tell myself ill study later but it ended up being 9pm and i was literally on PRIME VIDEO.

i go on yt, search a short video explaining hard math, dont understand one thing. so im like, why should i do this when i can just listen to a subliminal?? LOL. I LISTENED TO A SUBLIMINAL FOR 2 MINUTES. AND IT WORKED.

i dont wanna go into full detail but im writing this to remind myself how i did all of that. i always thought that i was crazy, because i could not understand, why, or how, each time i think about something it comes to me. i thought i was losing my mind lol. i think about a song that i havent heard in a loooong time or a shirt i havent seen for a long time and they just pop up. right in my eyes. in the same day in the same hour.

my subconscious mind is so powerful and i swear u cannot convince me otherwise. its helping me. and every thought just comes like it sounds super crazy but its so real and its amazing.

so thats why u should visualize, think about what u want, who u want to become and that will come to you. your subconscious mind is already getting it. because your thoughts already exist, your desires are yours and you just have to let them come through.

each time you talk bad, or bad mouth, talk shit about someone your subconscious mind records it and basically places that effect on you. like who you are, that negativity doesn't flow to that person, it comes to you. so whenever you open your mouth and say something hateful its only backfiring.

the same is with your thoughts. whenever you sit there and worry and just constantly doubt yourself, hate yourself, hate the future and think about how horrible its gonna turn out or ur not enough, thats exactly whats gonna happen.

u can control it. you can be it

[subspencer]

Fkkkkkk i cant send photos over anon damnit i dnt wanna use my main tho bc itll taint my vanilla public image

Basically imagine flirting with spencer and him flirting back during a case. the case wraps up and you know hes flying back to dc tomorrow morning first thing. what you didnt expect was a text message at 11pm that said “its reid i need to see you” so u send back ur home address and within fifteen minutes you open the door to him. The look on your faces both share a silent agreement and you take his hand and pull him into your apartment. Once the door is closed he kisses you and pushes you against the wall. Between kisses you manage to get out “howd you get my number?” And he says “does it matter?” And then spins you around so your face is against the wall. And he pushes himself against you, his hands worming around to the front of your pants and undoing the buttons. “Guess not” you say and his mouth is on your neck, nibbling and sucking. Once your pants are undone he flips you back around and pulls them off, sinking to his knees in front of you. Hes gently caressing your thigh and looking up at you as he places kisses over your legs. He pulls your panties off and continues worshiping your legs. Your hand goes into his hair as he lifts on your feet onto his upper thigh / hip and gets to work eating you out. Hes a goddamn pro and sucks and nibbles and flicks his tongue in all the right spots. Hes sucking on your clit when his fingers slide in you. His ring finger first and then his middle to join. Your moaning and groaning and whimpering as it burns but you dont want him to stop. His other hand stroking your raised leg and repositioning it every time it starts to slip. You come, fast and intense and grip a handful of his hair as you do. You feel him moan into your pussy. He works you thru your orgasm and then takes his fingers out. He stands and pushes his fingers coated in your against your lips. You open and let him and he pushes them in as far as he can. When you dont gag, he smiles, then retrieves the fingers and kisses you deeply. You start working on his own pants now and ridding him off the fabric and taking him in your hand. He moans and you gasp into his mouth, hes already hard and fuck hes huge. You stroke him and pump him until he pushes you onto your knees and lines his head up with your lips. Your take him in, not breaking eye contact as you deep throat him. When he feels himself in your throat he hisses a “fuck” and slaps a hand against the wall in front of him, his other gripping your hair and watching as you bob over him. Sucked and running your tongue against him, flicking over his head as you come up before going down again. When he cant take it anymore, he pulls you back to your feet and slams you onto the dinner table nearby, lying flat against the table top, bent over and ready for him. He caresses your butt and slaps one of the cheeks, causing a small whimpering cry from you. The lines himself up and pushes in as deep as he can - and in this position he can himself completely inside you. He wastes no time letting you adjust and immediately starts fucking you hard snd fast. Hes gripping both sides of your hips and pulls you off the table a little so to not hurt yourself as he rails you. Youre coming within minutes and hes holding the back of your neck now with one hand, the other still gripping your side. Youre whimpering and crying out “fuck! Shit! Argh!” But he shows no mercy, only responding with “god your fkn hot, keep coming on it baby” and you do. Multiple times. Eventually he lifts you off the table and moves you onto the couch. He sits and brings you ontop of him, but hes slouching so he still has completely control over how hard snd fast hes fucking you. You’re completely at a mess by now, using his shoulders and the back of the couch to just keep yourself up. He starts to come soon after. Hugging your waist and pressing his face into your shoulder. You start grinding on him, bring him thru his orgasm. And hes hissing into your shoulder “fuuuckin’ell” and then hes still. He collapses under his own skin and falls back against the couch. Bringing your with him.

You hug for a monent, breathing “oh my god” against his hair. You pull away and look at each other. Both sweaty and exhausted and still catching their breath. “If id known doctor smarty pants could fuck like that, id have had you over day one” and hes laugh and kiss you

HOW ARE YOU WRITING THESE SO FAST MISSY THESE ARE WHOLE FICS !!

i’m sensing a theme w the cumming on his dick and i have to say... it can actually be so special <3 my fav detail to throw in

[pwnyta]

You're always open to pet peeves and salt right? I got a pet peeve, how come in Endeavor/Hawk art, Endeavor is always the bottom? I guess I get the appeal of small top, huge bottom, but like.. Endeavor?? Dude that large and domineering would never be a bottom (in my opinion). Everything is a fight with him. (I don't even like Hawks/Endeavor as a ship. I just like saving Endeavor images for the muscles.)

I LOVE IT. No one sends me any anymore... Im still open for business here at the salt processing plant.

Ive seen plenty of Top!Endeavor with Hawks (against my will) but there is quite a bit of Bottom!Endeavor too... if I liked Endeavor... I do like a big bottom so IDK what to say LMAO. If I have to see hotwings thats howd Id rather see it.

I think its the fact he is such a big bastard that its appealing to see him bottom and Hawks is a little smug fucker so that probably doesnt help...

[ninzied]

another kind of goodbye

for @carry-the-sky. happy birthday, my friend! have a little post-cancellation kastle fic.

It’s three months, give or take, when Frank lets himself think about her again. Really think about her. Not in the passing kind of way, where he’s walking down some street and sees a bouquet of gardenias, like the kind he’d almost gotten her instead of the roses that day. Or when he’s sipping on coffee, and Karen’s face flashes like a mirage at him across the cheap Formica table – blonde hair almost white under the shit diner lighting, but those eyes still so blue as she told him he would never lie to her.

So – okay, so he thinks about her. He thinks about her.

(He wonders if she—)

Frank eventually makes his way back to the city again, after. Another day, another job. Madani thinks he’s meant for something greater than this – than picking off these scum-of-the-earth kinds of assholes that litter the streets of a place like New York.

He can’t believe that he was meant for greater, but. Sometimes, he does wonder. If a part of him – whatever part of him that’s not still buried deep down in the ground with his family – was meant to come back here. To walk these streets and feel the pull of her, always, even when that’s all he can afford to feel.

He tells himself that has to be enough.

He’s been laying low, since his return. Coughed up some cash for a three-hundred-square-footer in Brooklyn, but he crosses the bridge to the city most days, maybe even finds his way to Hell’s Kitchen from time to time too. It’s risky, he knows. If Murdock catches wind of him, they’d be lucky to walk away from each other in one piece. And Karen…

There’d be a different kind of hell to pay, if Karen ever found out.

His phone gives a single buzz in his pocket as he’s hunkering his way down 47th, and he stops in his tracks, nearly colliding with an elderly woman in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Excuse me!” she says in a shrill voice, bag clutched tight to her chest.

“Apologies, ma’am,” he nods as she makes a show of putting as much distance between them as possible, and then he fishes his phone out, hesitating for one absurd moment before glancing down at the screen.

Back in town yet, Castle?

He barks out a laugh. Chrissakes, Madani.

His phone buzzes again.

I have a job for you, if you’re still interested.

“Still,” mutters Frank, with a scoffing shake of his head. He thinks he admires her perseverance, but Madani’s gotta know she’s only wasting her breath.

He cuts south down 10th, toward Lincoln Tunnel. It’s a brisk day, and the wind on his face feels sharper than usual, considering he hasn’t bled much there in a while. He jams his hands deeper into his pockets, ignoring the insistent drone of Madani’s follow-up call.

He’s got a date with a park bench on the wrong side of town, and if he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s the same bridge overlooking the water, and when he opens them again Karen’ll be there, waiting for him.

…

His closest call comes with, of all people, the lawyer. Not Red – the other one. Franklin Nelson.

Frank’s emerging with coffee two storefronts down just as another door opens, and he’s cursing himself for not seeing the signs when out tumbles Nelson with his back turned, adjusting his tie against the wind.

“Foggy bear, wait!” someone else is laughing, and a blonde lady steps out to chase after him, slinging a purse over her shoulder and reaching with her other hand to link around his elbow.

“I told him this was gonna make me late for work,” grumbles Nelson, but without any heat to the words. “Dad’s surprise party isn’t until tomorrow, don’t know why this couldn’t have waited – oh, crap, I forgot I told Karen I’d pick up some coffee—”

Nelson’s about-facing sharply, girlfriend following closely behind. He doesn’t appear to notice Frank crouched down in a corner by the 7-Eleven, hood obscuring half his face as he trains his eyes on the ground by their feet. The girl unearths some coins from her bag as they pass, clinking them onto the lid of Frank’s coffee cup without seeming to hear his low mutter of thanks.

He’s leapt up the moment he hears the door latch shut, brushing the coins into his palm as he goes.

He leaves them with a guy camped out by the train stop, a dog lifting her head from their blankets to blink sleepy eyes up at Frank, and he walks away harder, takes the steps two at a time and wishes – God he wishes—

…

Another text from Madani.

He shuts his phone off. Goes back to retrieve it ten seconds later from the trash can that he’d dumped it in, wiping it down and scowling as her message pops up on the screen.

Castle – offer still stands, FYI.

“You should call her back,” advises a man huddled down by the newsstands next to him. His face is like leather, worn down and weathered with age, with living. “Apologize for whatever it is that you did, so you don’t end up out here like me.”

“Already there,” Frank tells him, turning the phone over and over in his hand. Madani’s message lights up again each time, flashing and flashing until he sees it like a burn through his retinas even when the phone’s no longer facing him.

“Damn. That’s a damn shame.” The guy shifts, scratching at a spot on his back. “Maybe shouldn’t’ve stayed away from her for so long.”

Frank shakes his head, uttering a short, incredulous laugh. “Well, maybe I got my reasons, yeah? You think about that?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” shrugs the guy. “Does she think they’re any good? These reasons of yours?”

Frank turns away, jaw working furiously.

“Yeah.” The guy shouldn’t have any right to sound as smug as he does, and yet. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

…

He’s got no place in coming here. He knows it. He knows it, but he thinks it was always meant to be this way, him circling back around to her, even after everything that he’s done to push her away. Maybe a part of him had never left. And the rest is just – there, hovering right at the edge of some sharp realization, that he could try to be whole again if he simply took that first step. And a part of Karen must at least sense that. It’s why she’d never really given up on him, before.

It doesn’t change how I feel about you.

Frank wonders if she’d forgive him this time. If he’d even want her to.

It wouldn’t be anything close to what he deserves, that’s for goddamn sure.

He gazes up at her fire escape, counts the number of steps it would take just to be able to reach that bottom rung from his vantage point across the street. Her shades are drawn, the lines of them blurred out in the dim orange light. On one corner of the windowsill, wedged up against the glass, there’s a small stack of books. On the other, a vase. From this angle, the shadows folded into the fabric of her curtains look almost like flower stems.

Frank squints, and the stems disappear.

…

There’s about a week in between, where he feels himself inching closer to something, each time he drops by her block. He never goes farther than the patch of sidewalk across from her building, but it’s getting harder not to just careen over the ledge.

More than anything, he wishes he knew, in those moments obscured in half-darkness, whether he’s come to look for that after she’d spoke of, or if he’s come to say goodbye.

Then, one day he spots flowers in her window, for the first time since—

(They’re pale white against the cream of her curtains, their stems dark slivers of green, and he imagines them pricking the pad of his thumb, drawing up a spot of blood.)

Frank takes a deep breath.

…

She doesn’t look surprised to see him when she opens the door, swinging it back two-thirds of the way before stopping. Her lips are pressed tightly together, like there’s too much to say, or maybe there’s things that she can’t, either way he can’t read her and he thinks she’s never terrified him more.

Frank drops his gaze, mouth moving soundlessly until the words grind their way out. “How’d you know I was here, Karen?”

He’s not sure what kind of answer he’s expecting. That Nelson had grown a real pair of eyes, or that Red had managed to ferret him out of his lurking somehow. Or maybe Karen really just hadn’t known at all, and those flowers were never for him.

What Karen says instead is, “Dinah and I grab a beer together, sometimes.”

“That right?” he asks, trying to lay out an image of this in his mind. It sits strangely there, stumping him for a moment, and some of his bewilderment must show on his face because Karen’s mouth almost turns up in a smile before flattening again.

She leans away from the doorjamb, waving her hand in a worn-looking gesture before letting it drop to her side. “Besides, you…haven’t exactly been subtle, in your haunting of Hell’s Kitchen.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, other than a gruff, “’S’what dead men do, Karen,” as she folds her arms and sighs at him.

“You sure you’re not just losing your touch, Frank?” She steps into the doorway, whether to move closer to him or to block him out of her apartment, he can’t tell. “Or was it because you wanted me to know but couldn’t tell me to my face?”

His eyes snap up to hers, twitching slightly under the sharp weight of her gaze. He shakes his head, wishing he could just ask her, What do you want from me, Karen? but they’re long past that now, and if he can’t find his own way to answer her, then.

God, he really doesn’t deserve this woman.

“I think I—” He shifts his body and tries again. “I think I needed to figure some things out. Karen. I was waiting 'til I felt like I was ready, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that.” But I’m here, he wants to say, but I’m here.

“Yeah.” Karen’s nodding, hair falling into her face, and she brushes it back, resting her chin in her palm for a moment. “I know that, Frank.” All of the fight in her seems to have ebbed slowly back, and he resists the urge to reach out and shake the storm back into motion, to make her understand she doesn’t get to let him off the hook so easy.

The look she gives him now is softer, but he knows. Fight’s not done. May never be done. And he knows this because he knows he’ll never stop fighting for her.

She’s stepped back into the door, letting it swing open further. She doesn’t invite him in, but she’s quirked an eyebrow up at him, biting her lip with another deep sigh and a shake of her head.

“You, uh.” Frank glances back and forth at their surroundings, doesn’t quite meet her eye. Tries to lighten his tone through the gruffness as he asks her, “So, you wanted to see me?”

Her voice is soft, forbearing, with a hint of gentle knowing behind it. “You didn’t?”

She’s holding back the clear start of a smile from him this time, and Frank. Christ. It’s taking everything in him not to step toward her, to—

Karen tilts her chin at him, the motion loosening another wave of blonde hair, and he can’t remember anymore why he was trying so hard to stand back from all this. He’s moving, swaying forward until she’s just an arm’s length away, and there’s something almost teasing about the way she relaxes her shoulder into the door as she watches him.

“You back to kill some people, Frank?”

He feels a corner of his mouth turn up. This girl. He licks his lips, lets out a quiet sort of laugh. “That was the plan, yeah.”

Karen gazes up at him, unblinking. “Have you?”

“I was—” Frank has to look away for a moment, finally turning back when he can. His eyes are steady, boring into hers, voice low and full with meaning. “I was. Working on it.”

Karen nods. Doesn’t speak for long seconds, and he measures them out in heartbeats, chest tightening hard enough it feels like it might break when she asks him, very carefully, “Still?”

Frank steps closer, close enough to feel the way her breath shakes with a small sigh, how her body moves away from the door to meet him.

His hand is inches from hers, but he doesn’t reach for her. Not yet.

She waits, gaze searching. He gives the barest shake of his head, and a single word, gravel-filled, a promise. “No.”

Something cracks open in her expression, and it means everything to him, her head ducking away as though she can’t have him looking too closely at the way she's biting back that smile of hers, and he thinks – he thinks he wants to make her do it again, and again, for as long as she will have him.

“Would you like to come in, Frank?”

He takes her hand in his this time, feeling the pull of her as he steps across the threshold, door shutting firmly behind them, and it feels like coming home.

[siodymph]

“The Before and After”

Hey there @pirably ! I’m so sorry this is getting to you so late! I can’t thank you enough for participating in the gift exchange, and I hope you enjoy my take on your prompt!

Feel free to read your story under the cut or over on my ao3!

“I can’t believe you!”

“What?”

Sighing, Stanford took a deep breath. His neck was starting to feel pinched from looking up at so long. “I said I CAN’T BEL-”

“I heard what you said! What’s not to believe?”

“Just… Everything about this! There’s no way this is safe!”

There was a long pause as Stanford waited until he finally heard Fiddleford respond. Voice echoing out from somewhere near the top of his gigantic creation.

“… Probably not!”

“Then why do you insist on working like this? Why put yourself in life-threatening danger!”

“Cause!” Fiddleford called back, huffing. “I work best directly with my hands. And there’s no way I could tip this darned thing over without risking it all breaking! All for some shiftin’ wires!”

“You could build something to help gently set it down then stand it again!” Stanford tried to add.

“Ugh! But that’d take even more time! Not to mention I’d have to build that first!” Fiddleford yelled. “Now hush up! I’m trying to work here Stanford!”

If someone were to see Stanford at that moment, they probably would have said he was pouting. But Ford would take to his grave if he had to. “I just want you to be safe…”

“I’m harnessed to the swing, which I rigged up myself! Checked the pulleys and everything this morning! I’m the safest I’ve ever been!” Fiddleford called out one more time. “And you’re one to talk! Where was all this fussing over safety when you were in Dr. Jenret’s class and you almost poured acid on yourself?”

Stanford could only smile and shake his head in response. As always Fiddleford was able to win him over when he least suspected it. As inevitable as it was, it still caught Stanford off-guard. Growing up there had been no one like that in his life. If he ever got into arguments or debates with kids they’d always either eventually concede or just completely give up. Or they’d just hit him out of annoyance. If it was his brother he’d do a combination of the last two.

At least Stanford used that excuse as to why after knowing the man for years now, he still managed to surprise him when they got into debates.

To this day Fiddleford was probably the only person he knew who could get him to shut up and see things from a new perspective.

So now knowing there was nothing he could say Stanford decided to just sit back and watch the show Fiddleford was putting on. The man may be stubborn as a mule, but he was equally as cunning and brilliant, and he certainly made a performance out of his larger-than-life projects.

There was no denying Fiddleford’s brilliance. He had the most engineering and mechanical skill out of anyone Stanford knew. Even better than himself, which was something he seldom admitted to anyone. But it was the truth. Fiddleford Hadron McGucket was by far the best of the best in the world of robotics. And anyone who said otherwise was wrong.

Just being able to watch Fiddleford work was a treat itself. As his creation came together it quickly collected height. So much so that he soon had to resort to rigged swings and climbing equipment to finish the job. As he worked up off the ground like that Stanford couldn’t help but think of those old photos from the 1940’s of construction workers building the first skyscrapers. So high off the ground, only a pair of overalls and a utility belt for protection, and yet seeming so at ease. There was almost a beauty in how effortless Fiddleford made it seem. A grace he had while swinging from rig to rig, climbing up the structure with his hands and feet.

But when the light hit his face just right and Stanford could see Fiddleford’s hair shine golden, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat from his hard work, Stanford knew in his heart his feelings for the other man hadn’t changed at all.

He found he’d only grown to love Fiddleford Hadron McGucket even more...

Two hours later, Fiddleford came swinging down. Overalls covered in a layer of grim, hair frizzled and frumpy, face red and sweaty, and a satisfying smile that just looked ethereal on Fiddleford’s face.

“How’d it go?” Stanford asked as he ran back over from his own work to meet him. Handing the other man a towel.

“Pretty good I think!” Fiddleford sighed gratefully as he started to wipe off his face. “Got that wiring all straightened out! Now all that’s left is testing her out!”

“That’s wonderful! We should test it now!”

“You know Stanford it’s a good thing I like ya so much.” Fiddleford said with a tired smirk. “Been up there all day, and as soon as I get down you want me to keep on working!”

“You know you want to see your new invention just as much as I do!” Stanford replied. “Don’t even kid yourself Fidds.”

Chuckling to himself, Fiddleford went over to his work bench and grabbed the remote control he’d built for this his invention. He let his finger hover over the main controls before looking towards Stanford.

“Hang onto your butts…”

All at once, the remote buzzed and the colossal machine burst to life. Inbetween metal panels, there was a bright green glow. Panels began to bend and shift. Massive wings unfurled from either side of the robot. For a moment the creature turned its head to look at its master. Green eyes glowing with a light that feuled it from within. Then after Fiddleford pressed another button the remote buzzed again and the creature tilted its head back at gave out a massive prehistoric screech that made Stanford’s entire chest rattle.

“Not too bad for someone who said they were moving onto computer-work only, huh?”

Stanford looked up at the massive mechanic pterodactyl in awe. “Fiddleford… Fiddlford that was nowhere close to ‘not bad’. That was… That was amazing!”

“Aw shucks,” Fiddleford mumbled.

“No, I mean it!” Stanford continued. “This is a piece of history in the making here. This won’t just change the world of animatronics, but the entire world of robots and engineering itself!”

“You really think so?” Fiddleford asked.

“I know so!” Stanford tried to contain some of his excitement, sometimes he could get rather loud when he got carried away. “And Fiddleford? I couldn’t imagine this being made by anyone else but yourself. You really did a… a fantastic job here. There’s no way you won’t take first place in Dawngrove next week!”

“Aw, I don’t care about none of that.” Fiddleford sighed as he turned off his robo-dino. “I’m only doing this for lil’Tate. He’s the one who asked me to do all this after all.”

“And I’m certain Tate will adore this too.”

“I hope so...” Fiddleford said with another sigh. Looking back up at his incredible invention. “Ever since me and the missus split I feel like I haven’t seen him as often. When we are together I gotta make it mean something. For the both of us.”

Gently, Stanford took Fiddlford’s face in his hands, pulling him away so they were looking eye to eye.

“Believe me Fiddleford, next week Dawngrove’s Robotic Royal will be a day no one could ever forget!”

Leaning in closer, Stanford kissed him. And closing his eyes, Fiddleford could feel himself relaxing.

Slipping away. If only for a few moments...

 ~~~

 Sometimes it truly amazed Fiddleford how everything was coming back to him.

At least physically if not completely mentally. He was still working on that.

He counted it as a small success though when Stanford showed him a massive mechanical pterodactyl and he got the inkling of a sensation that he’d seen it before.

Raising one hand up, he touched one of its massive wings. It felt rougher than he’d expected it to. No doubt the metal had eroded some after years of hiding it away in such an abandoned place.

“I know I’ve seen this fella before…” Fiddleford pondered out loud, still lightly rubbing over the metal as if that would help him reveal the answer. He knew he’d made robotic pterodactyls before but this one didn’t seem as familiar. It definitely wasn’t the one he made for revenge after his retirement-party-fiasco. “Did we make this together?”

“Not really, I just watched.” Stanford answered. “You made this one on your own. It was for this competition out in Dawngrove California.”

“Dawngrove…” Fiddleford said slowly.

“Yes, does that town sound familiar at all?”

Fiddleford hummed a little before shaking his head. “It ain’t there right now, but it’ll come back. I can feel it rattle’n around in there.”

Stanford seemed a little disappointed, but decided to move on. “Well you and I brought that in for a robotics competition. A battle royal actually. You ended up getting first place. Your ex-wife and your son even came and we all cheered you on.”

The mention of his son brought a smile to his face. The details over everything were hazy but he always knew who Tate was. “He would have been around eight or nine right?”

“Yes, he was nine!” Stanford said.

Fiddleford chuckled at the thought. “He was such a little squirt back then. Always hiding under that big mop of hair…”

Stanford grumbled as he looked around. He wished he had more photos from that day. In his experience with Stanley photos help jogged Stan’s memory the best. Unfortunately he didn’t have any photos from that day. He was however able to find a few newspaper clippings he’d held onto from that day. Carefully picking it up the fragile paper so it didn’t disintegrate, Stanford brought it over for Fiddleford to see.

“Look here,” Stanford pointed to the main picture under the headline ‘Super Scientist and Father Wins Grand Prize with his Dynamic Dino!’ where there was a black and white photo of the Pterodactyl back in its golden years. “If you look towards the bottom near the pterodactyl’s feet you can see a few figures. That’s me on the right, you on the left, and you’re holding Tate in the middle of us.”

The article itself was so damaged it was illegible. But Fiddleford could just make out their figures Stanford was pointing to in the picture. The picture was so old the image had begun to fade some too, mostly on the left side. His whole body was faded out. But with enough focus he could just make out Stanford and Tate’s faces. Both were beaming at the camera. Grinning with pride. Fiddleford realized they’d been proud of him.

“You two sure seemed happy…” Fiddleford said with a sigh.

“And we still are.” Stanford continued. “You have no idea how happy I am to be here with you. To have a second chance at making things right with you. With everyone.”

Fiddleford nodded but didn’t look up from the picture. As if trying to memorize their faces in case this memory never came back to him. When he didn’t focus as hard he could almost recall some things. Mostly phantom feelings. Like holding a giggling Tate close to his chest. Or swinging up on a rig, shouting to Stanford down below. Walking hand in hand with both of them…

“I’m happy I get a second chance too.” Fiddleford replied softly.

Eventually they’d seen everything they could and together, hand in hand, they walked back out of that old warehouse back into the world. They’d been in there reminiscing so long they’d missed sunset. It was already night and the moon hung low in the sky, darting out from behind trees as they walked.

Stanford’s six-fingered hand felt so warm in Fiddleford’s own. How he’d spent all those years alone, Fiddleford didn’t know, but now that Stanford was back in his life he knew he couldn’t bear to go back to the way things had once been. The world had changed so much, and they’d both changed so much with it. But Fiddleford could feel it in his heart that what they had between themselves was still as special as it was back then.

And when the light hit his face just right Fiddleford could see Stanford’s hair shine silver, and his eyes practically sparkling under the moon, Fiddleford knew in his heart his feelings for the other man hadn’t changed at all.

He found he’d only grown to love Stanford Filbrick Pines even more.