#ive been using these new blue light glasses along with my blue light filters on my phone and personal computer

[fluttersheep]

good night

[violetsmoak]

Pieces of April [15/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Author’s Note: Here's your daily reminder to stay inside, wash your hands and not to hoard toilet paper! As a reward, enjoy another chapter of POA, featuring sass, subtle and not so subtle inklings of romance, and off-screen appearance of another Bat!

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

After two movies and being so distracted that Ives kicks his ass at Mario Kart, Tim returns to his apartment. It’s not very late in vigilante time—two o’clock, as promised—and he’s sort of half expecting Jason to be still awake when he gets back.

The older man is sitting on the couch in the living room, flipping absently through the channels, eye flicking to the baby-monitor beside him every few seconds like he’s prepared to jump into action if he hears a cry.  

“Has she been keeping you up?” Tim asks as he strides over.

Jason blinks blearily at him. “No.”

“Then why don’t you grab some sleep while you can? There’s no point staying up if you don’t have to.”

“First of all—fuck you. Second of all, that’s rich comin' from the family insomniac. And third, I’m havin' trouble shuttin' my brain off, okay? It’s still tryin' to figure out if I didn’t accidentally travel to another alternate reality of something.”

A sharp, distorted cry echoes over the monitor and Jason really does jump.

“Stay put,” Tim tells him, already heading for the stairs. “I’ll get her.”

It’s still surprising when Jason listens to him, which Tim puts down to being in a desperate situation. He hopes that having someone else in the apartment to help with Isa will diminish whatever anxiety has the older man wound so tight.

Once upstairs, Tim slips into the guestroom and scoops her into his arm, wincing at the shrill squealing cry. After a quick check of her diaper—blessedly empty—he carries her still crying form downstairs to prepare a bottle for her.

Jason winces when they appear and—he doesn’t really run away, but he makes a hasty exit over the stairs.

Tim huffs under his breath. “It’s not like she’s a bomb, Jason. Geeze.”

Though she is doing an excellent job imitating a percussion grenade while they wait for the bottle of formula to warm up in the microwave, so maybe there are some similarities.

“It was thirty seconds, not thirty years, calm down,” he grumbles as she latches onto the plastic nipple like a starving animal.

He watches her nurse for a few minutes, brows furrowed and mind on Jason.

I know he’s still adjusting, but at some point, it’s got to start sinking in, right? I mean, he’s not even planning on keeping her, it’s all temporary, so there’s no reason for him to be this out of it.

Unless there’s more going on than just a surprise baby—which, given Jason’s past and present activities, could very well the issue.

I wonder how hard he’d punch me if I suggested he talk to someone about this?

Not Dick, obviously; calling him has always been one of Tim’s major avenues of support when he’s going through hard times, but he knows Jason would rather crawl through broken glass than open up to his predecessor.

Sometimes I think Jason’s relationship with Dick is a hundred times more complicated than it is with anyone else in the family…

Isa gives a dissatisfied whimper and turns her face away from the bottle. Tim frowns, seeing that she’s barely drunk a quarter of it, and tries to tempt her to take another, but she refuses, already going dozy and limp with sleep.

“Really? After all that? You raise holy hell and you don’t even finish it?” He snorts. “You really are his.”

It’s an effort to get the sleepy infant to burp, but he manages it; she passes out before he’s even made it back up the stairs and back to Jason’s room.

Despite having explicit permission to enter without knocking, Tim’s still uneasy broaching Jason’s personal space. Especially since Tim can tell he’s not asleep, even if he’s lying on his bad, holding a pillow over his face like he’s trying to block everything out.

Tim carefully arranges the baby back in her basket-bassinet, and quietly asks Jason, “Need anything else?”

Jason mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "Another life", and turns his back on both Tim and the baby.

And really, what can he even say to that?

It’s a problem for some other time.

Tim takes a quick shower, before faceplanting onto his unmade bed. The exhaustion he’s been ignoring for the past day or so finally hits him, and he passes out without even getting up to turn off the lights.

By some miracle, he gets six hours of uninterrupted sleep before his alarm goes off later that morning. He doesn’t feel fully rested, but he gave up on chasing that sensation two Robins ago.

After dressing and taming his hair (it might be time for a haircut soon), he spends an extra ten minutes checking the bruises on his face—they’ve gone from dark purple to blue—and applying a liberal amount of cover-up. A beat later, he adds a bit of eyeliner as well, to give an appearance of alertness that he doesn’t quite feel.

Heading downstairs his nose twitches as he becomes cognizant of an unfamiliar smell.

Of...someone’s cooking?

He finds Jason in his kitchen, flipping pancakes. The baby carrier is in the middle of the kitchen island, Isa sleeping soundly in a cocoon of blankets.

Instead of asking Jason why he’s cooking, Tim grabs a coffee cup from the cupboard and turns on his Keurig. “How was the first night?”

He doesn’t expect Jason to respond beyond irritated grunting, and so is surprised when he answers.

“Took me an hour to fall asleep,” he says. “Then at four she woke me up…then at six…and then just now. So, I decided, screw it, I’m hungry anyway. And about the only thing you have all the ingredients for are pancakes.” He shoots Tim a judging look. “I don’t even think you have maple syrup. It’s a disgrace.”

“I think there might be corn syrup in the pantry?”

“Disgrace,” Jason repeats.

Tim ignores him and glances at the two dozen pancakes he’s caught sight of behind Jason’s bulk. “Exactly how many people are you feeding?”

Something that might be a blush darkens Jason’s cheeks.

“I may have gotten a little distracted,” he admits defensively. “But I needed something mindless to do and it worked, so just…shut up and eat.”

He shoves a plate with three pancakes at Tim, who doesn’t have the heart to tell Jason he doesn’t really eat breakfast. Instead, he goes looking for the much-maligned corn syrup and takes the smallest pancake he can find in the bunch.

It’s only polite, after all.

Isa starts to whimper again and Jason groans. “There is no way you’re hungry again, I just fed you.”

Instead, he carts her over to the coffee table—the vintage Henredon table Tim actually spent a couple of weeks tracking down because it resembled one his parents had when he was a child—has since yesterday seemingly become the chosen changing station. 

There are piles of fresh diapers and wipes spread out on it, clearly from earlier changes, and there’s a pail next to it, along with the detritus of the packaging it was in.

“That can’t be sanitary,” Tim says. “Or environmentally friendly.”

“Yeah, well, your highness can shell out for cloth diapers and hire a service to clean them if that’s your issue.”

Tim rolls his eyes but wisely doesn’t reply to that, instead busying himself with finishing off the giant pancake and a much-needed cup of coffee.

“Ugh,” he hears Jason say after a while. “Are we sure this is a human child? Because what’s coming out of her doesn’t look human.”

Tim chokes on a large lump of pancake and glares across the room. “Yes, thanks for that while I’m eating.”

“As if your stomach hasn’t been tested by many a murder scene.”

“Never while I was eating,” Tim grumbles and pushes his plate away. He hunts down a travel mug for his second much-needed cup of coffee and then grabs his messenger bag from the hook on the door.

He’s halfway headed for the garage when he pauses and considers Jason again.

“Do you need me to stay?” he asks. “I mean, it’s the first day you’re doing this, so—”

“I don’t need you holding my hand, Drake,” Jason deadpans, “especially since you’re not going to be here during the day anyway. No point in getting used to a crutch.”

Tim isn’t sure he likes that comparison.

“You sure?”

“I figured out how to defuse bombs, I can figure this out.”

“Okay…but Safiya did give you her number, right? You know there’s no shame in calling her if you’re stuck.” That earns him a withering glare. “Just saying.” He offers Jason a mock-salute. “Enjoy learning how to baby.”

“Fuck you.”

“Language!”

“She’s two days old, she doesn’t know what the hell I’m sayin’.”

“A-plus childcare, Mary Poppins,” Tim mutters—under his breath because he doesn’t actually want to be punched this early in the morning—and finally leaves.

Once at the office, he falls into his usual routine—perfunctory greetings to people he should only know by sight but for whom he has done extensive background checks, sitting in a board meeting and chewing out the legal team for not filing their water-filter patent faster (he may have brushed it off to spare people the wrath of Damian, but he fully understands the kid’s anger), a stop at the break-room for a third cup of coffee and to keep an ear out for the office gossip.

Tam is waiting in his office when he finally settles in for the rest of the morning.

“How’s everything going at home?” she asks, closing the door behind her. She hands him his schedule for the day and a checklist of phone calls to return and products that require oversight.

“As well as can be expected,” he replies, sipping his coffee. “It’s an adjustment.”

“No kidding. You go from single, introvert shut-in bachelor to living with Dream Daddy overnight.”

Tim promptly inhales and then spits out very hot coffee, only narrowly missing a stack of contracts that need reviewing.

Tam’s eyes flick to the mess. “I’m not cleaning that up.”

“Why would you say that?” he splutters as his brain frantically tries to reboot after the shock.

“Because it’s not my job to clean up after the functional man-child that is my boss?”

“Not that.” He glares. “Filling my brain with disturbing notions.”

“Is the disturbing notion that I said it, or that you know what Dream Daddy is?”

“The disturbing thing is that you think my—” He pauses, hesitant to use the word ‘brother’ in relation to Jason, if only because it feels wrong for some inexplicable reason. ‘Friend’ is also a gross over-estimation of their relationship. “—new roommate is attractive.”

“Well, some of us have eyes,” Tam shrugs.

“And some of us have criteria for what we find attractive beyond looks.”

“Right. Forgot. You like the dangerous types that try to kill you first and ask questions later.”

Tim opens his mouth to object, and then tilts his head to one side to acknowledge it: given his recent dating history, she’s not wrong. “You forget that type tends to be female. As in something my new roommate most definitely is not.”

“Puh-lease, I’ve seen you when you’re hanging out with Connor. You can’t tell me that’s a hundred percent platonic.”

“It is!”

“If you say so,” Tam replies. “But you forget—I’ve kissed you. And I’ve never felt less spark or even interest in a guy before.”

“Because I was surprised,” Tim grouses. “That doesn’t mean I don’t like women. You’ve met Stephanie.”

“Yeah, but she told me she hit you in the face with a brick the first time you two met.”

“I regret ever introducing you to each other,” Tim groans, pressing his face into his hands. “Look, you’re the one who decided us dating would be a bad idea, so don’t go taking that as evidence that I’m gay.”

“First of all, our dating would be a bad idea, and not even just because of the inevitable involvement of ninjas or Vicki Vale’s byline. I’ve already explained why—which you agreed with at the time. And second of all, I never said you were gay, I said you had a type. Lynx tried to break you with a sword, Connor broke your arm, and as I said, there was Steph…Point is, gender has nothing to do with it, you’re just a masochist.”

“I must be since I put up with you,” he sighs. “Let me be clear: I have no interest, nor will I ever have interest in…my new roommate. And this is so far from the appropriate place to talk about this stuff.”

“And he pulls the ‘boss’ card,” Tam narrates sarcastically. “Fine, I’ll leave it alone. For now. Only because I have a conference call with my opposite number in Hong Kong.” She heads out but can’t resist throwing an over-dramatic sigh over her shoulder. “Maybe if I had the ability to throw you through a wall, you and I would have had a chance. Guess we’ll never know.”

She opens the door to the office, and then she’s gone, leaving Tim to parse the utterly bewildering turn to the conversation.

“How did we even get on that topic?” he mutters to himself, searching his desk for his glasses.

God, she can never find out that Jason tried to kill me that first time we met. I’ll never hear the end of it. Even if she’s completely wrong about all this, I’ll have to deal with knowing looks the rest of my life…

Tim makes a valiant effort to lose himself in his work after that, if only to erase the memory of Jason being called ‘daddy’ by another adult. He cleans up his desk as best he can, wrinkling his nose at the idea the place is going to smell like stale coffee for a while, and then does a quick triage of what work needs to be done now and what can wait.

He manages to lose himself for a few hours, working even through lunch, before setting aside time to wrestle with the current problem in his life: namely, helping Jason find someone to step in and deal with the baby situation.

It’s not like a business deal or falling stock options. A human being doesn’t come with cheat codes or hacks.

Well…not directly.

Tim grins to himself and opens an encrypted server to access to the CPS servers. Jason’s adamant about not working through the system, but that doesn’t mean they can’t investigate families within the system on their own and outside of whatever arbitrary criteria individual caseworkers use to evaluate potential parents. It’s a starting point.

At the same time, he’s using his personal computer that’s linked in with the Nest system to add a few extra layers of protection to Jason’s falsified information. It’s a fairly routine task, but he wants to ensure no one realizes he’s there.

His screen freezes.

 O: Do I need to know why you suddenly needed to hack the SSA?

 “Almost no one,” Tim corrects himself with a sigh; of course she’s keeping tabs on him.

He types a quick reply:

 T: You mean you don’t already?

O: No. I’m waiting for you to be upfront about it.

 That would be a definite change from the usual Bat modus operandi. He wonders how long it’s going to last.

 T: Precautionary alias for a case.

O: I see.

T: You know if it was anything more than that I’d have reached out.

O: Even if it involves a certain red sheep of the family?

 Tim groans, and only just refrains from pressing his palms against his eyes in frustration. Babs’ stance on Jason isn’t exactly clear, and she’s just as likely to give Bruce a heads-up about possible Red Hood antics coming up as wait for him to figure it out himself.

 T: Even then. This is a personal thing and I’m handling it.

O: Alright. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.

O: For now.

 Which Tim knows from experience will only last for so long; any potential threat in Gotham—and Jason is still occasionally classified as one of those—and Oracle might just take a page out of Batman’s mitigation playbook.  

“Problem for another day,” he tells himself.

He’s starting to feel like that’s going to become his new mantra.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

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Next Chapter

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay: Chapter 12

HI YALL IVE GOT A NEW CHAPTER OUT OF THE BLUE THAT I JUST WROTE BC @dansyellowshirt AND AN ANON WERE LOVELY AND MADE ME SMILE SO IVE BEEN TYPING FURIOUSLY FOR THE PAST HOUR OR SO ENJOYYYY

Tags for chapter: F L U F F, kissing

Words for chapter: ~2.7k

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<– Previous chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

When Dan woke up it was dark in his flat. The television was off—which was not how Dan remembered leaving it—and none of his lights were on. The only source of light in the whole flat were the blinds on his big window being drawn, letting the moonlight filter into the room and giving everything the softest edge.

He groaned after a moment of realizing that he was awake, shuffling his body a little to try and get more comfortable. It was dark—obviously he wasn't supposed to be awake yet if the sun wasn't even up so why the fuck was he?

Dan started to try and think back to what had happened earlier to put him in this position, however, when he started to move, whatever he was lying on top of shifted as well and let out a soft-yet-very human sound. Dan held his breath and suppressed a scream. What the fucking hell-

Dan tried to jerk his body up into a sitting position only to fail due to some kind of weight resting on the small of his back. His heart still racing, Dan snapped up his neck instead of his whole body only to come face-to-face with Phil's sleeping one.

What the goddamn hell-

Oh.

Everything came rushing back to him all at once, and relieved at the fact that he hadn't been tied down to his couch by burglars or something just as utterly ridiculous in his sleep, Dan let out a breath and relaxed against Phil, feeling the anxiety in his system start to drain out.

His peace of mind didn't last long, though, because half a heartbeat later he was blushing horribly and his head was already thinking of a million different excuses to...to explain whatever this was.

Phil was lying on his back on the sofa, head propped up against the armrest. Dan was curled on top of him, his head tucked under Phil's neck and right up on his chest (Dan had a feeling that Phil's chin had been resting on his head while they had both been asleep. The thought made his heart race a little bit faster). Their bodies were tangled together under the duvet, their legs intertwined and Phil's arms cast around Dan's waist, Dan's own arms pulled under himself. The duvet itself was draped over the both of them in a bit of a mess, slipping off of the sofa and onto the floor at the one corner.

Dan glanced up once again. Phil's face was smushed comically against the junction of the back of the couch and the armrest, mouth parted and hair sticking up in more ways than what was probably physically possible. His glasses—when the fuck had they appeared?—were askew and slipping off the bridge of his nose. Dan felt a dopey smile spread across his face. Phil was adorable when he was sleeping but still as much of an endearing mess as he was when he was awake. Unbelievable.

He reached up and lifted the black frames from Phil's face, gently to try and avoid waking the older man. Phil didn't even stir, and Dan twisted around, reaching with his arm out to place the glasses on his coffee table. Phil grumbled in his sleep at Dan's fidgeting and brought his arms a little tighter around Dan's waist, one of his legs twitching. Dan snorted out of amusement, but settled back into place and held himself still.

Under normal circumstances, Dan's head would be going crazy. He would be unconsciously psychoanalyzing everything in the situation and he would be doubting himself in his normal manner. But in a pleasant change of heart—or mind, rather—his head was staying blissfully quiet. Dan didn't have an explanation for it; it might have been because of waking up not too long ago, or maybe because he had absolutely exhausted himself with all of his emotional distress lately, or something else. Regardless, Dan wasn't going to force it. The quiet thoughts were a welcome change.

Dan let his eyes drift up past Phil's face and to the exposed window and the stars outside of it. He had always loved to look at the stars ever since he was younger, and now that he was laying on top of Phil, letting himself be held, his head quiet, everything was so much better. If time decided to freeze right at this moment, Dan wouldn't even care.

~~~~~

The next thing Dan knew, he was yawning and cracking his eyes open.

He groaned from the light nearly blinding him as soon as he lifted his eyelids even a little bit, and moved to tuck his face into the couch cushions, but ended up snuggling down further into the duvet still draped over him and shifting his whole body as well to try and get more comfortable. Dan started to nod off once more, when he suddenly realized that he was alone on said sofa.

Picking his head up and blearily opening his eyes, Dan looked around the lounge. He didn't see Phil anywhere, but his glasses weren't on the coffee table anymore.

Did he leave?

Dan jumped as a loud yelp sounded form the kitchen and as well as what Dan could only guess was something metal—a fork or knife, maybe—clattering to the ground.

"Phil?"

Dan didn't get an answer, but he could hear Phil muttering to himself in the background, so very reluctantly, Dan rolled off of the couch and tugged the duvet tighter around his shoulders, not willing to give up the comfort just yet. Dan padded into the kitchen. A large handful of his cabinets were open and there were two bowls of cereal on the counter, the box of Crunchy Nut that Dan had left on the floor yesterday next to the poured cereal. Phil was bent over, picking up a spoon from the floor, which was probably what Dan had heard falling.

"Phil?" Dan said again, with a bit of a yawn this time, rubbing his eye. He was tired as hell.

Phil jumped about a dozen feet into the air and dropped the spoon yet again, it clattering away from Phil's foot. Phil spun around with a hand on his chest, eyes wide.

"Dan! You scared me!"

"Phil," Dan sighed, rolling his eyes a little but smiling nonetheless, "sometimes I'm surprised by you, really."

"Look, here I am trying to get us both a nice breakfast-"

"Of cereal? Scratch that, of my cereal?"

"Oh shut it. Like I said, here I was, being the perfect guest and you just scare me. Rude." Phil said, sticking his tongue out and picking up the dropped silverware. He slid the now-dirty spoon into Dan's sink and went to reach for another, but Dan stopped him.

"Don't bother, I don't think I have any milk to pour in anyways, so we don't really need spoons as long as you don't have some weird 'no-eating-with-hands' thing I need to know about." Dan walked over and picked up his bowl of cereal, giving Phil a little, appreciative smile. "C'mon, we can eat in the lounge on my couch."

Dan didn't really wait for Phil, but he could hear him moving—presumably—to follow Dan. As an afterthought, Dan called over his shoulder, "And close the cabinet doors!" to which Phil replied with a very indignant sounding "Yes, mum!"

Within a few moments of Dan dropping himself back onto the couch, Phil was there as well, sitting on the other end, their legs both in the middle and on top of each other. Dan was reminded of a few nights ago, with them playing video games, his feet draped over Phil's lap, and what happened after. Dan looked at Phil out of the corner of his eye. He didn't really mind if he could get the chance to kiss Phil again. But the question was; did Phil?

They ate in silence, but it wasn't an oppressive one, just the two of them munching and enjoying each other's company. Dan's thoughts were still a little hopeful, a little wary, but he tried to keep them tame enough to not show; he didn't want to ruin this with his insecurities.

Dan finished his breakfast first, and he tapped his fingers against the ceramic for a few moments before he gave in.

"Hey, Phil?"

"Yeah?"

He had to know.

"Last night you said we wouldn't talk about anything until I slept, and well...I don't have work for-" Dan looked at the clock on his wall, "-another hour." He purposely left half of his question unsaid, and Phil nodded in understanding, making Dan simultaneously breathe out a little sigh of relief and tighten his grip on his bowl in anxious anticipation.

"Just because of time, I don't think we should talk about anything too heavy," Phil began, finishing the bite in his mouth and swallowing, "but, I think you're right. We do have a bunch of stuff to sort out."

"Mhm...what do you, uh, want to sort out then?" Dan asked. He felt nervous and unlike earlier, he was sure that it showed with how his fingers wouldn't stop moving along the ceramic and how his shoulders were tense and pulled tight to his body.

Phil just smiled and plucked the empty bowl from Dan's hand, putting both of their bowls on the table near them and scooting forward. Phil clasped one of their hands together, and with the skin-on-skin contact his heart started to beat a little bit happier in his chest. Phil leaned in until their faces were close enough for Dan to see the starbursts of his eyes, and let his other hand fall to the side of Dan's head.

"Can I kiss you, Dan?" Phil asked, his voice low.

"Yes," Dan breathed, his voice even quieter than Phil's.

This kiss wasn't like the ones they shared that night. It was softer, but still filled to the brim with emotion. These emotions, however, weren't like the powerful, fast, desperate ones that had dominated their kisses before. They were much more gentle, filled with a more soothing warmth, and—dare he say it—drenched in a feeling that Dan couldn't help but think as something similar to adoration.

Phil's mouth was warm and his lips were velvet soft, dragging across Dan's, his thumb brushing Dan's cheekbone over and over, making Dan's head spin. Dan's eyes had long drifted closed, and he just let himself relax into the cushions, absolutely melting under the kisses Phil was giving him.

He nipped at Dan's lip and pulled back, Dan's head following him until his neck just wouldn't stretch anymore and he had to let it fall back against the sofa, a pout on his features but not even caring if Phil saw.

"Phil, come back," Dan whined. Phil giggled at his antics, but decidedly didn't lean back in to kiss Dan breathless like he wanted him to. Instead, Phil brought their linked hands up so they could both see them and started to play with Dan's knuckles.

"Dan, I wasn't kidding when I said I've fallen for you, completely and utterly. You're Dan Howell and you have my heart, right here in your hands." Phil squeezed Dan's hand with his own. "I would love nothing more than if you gave me the chance to be your boyfriend. To take you out on dates, and watch shitty Netflix movies with, and dance in the kitchen with at 3AM when we certainly should be sleeping, and, yes, to play with your hair just like you said you love. I want to kiss you and surprise you at the coffee shop and do all the cheesy things couples do." Phil leaned in and dropped a series of little, feather-light kisses to Dan's forehead. "What do you say," he whispered, "will you give me the chance?"

"Phil," Dan said, drilling his eyes shut. He could feel his insecurities rising again, just as illogical as usual, and just as self-depreciative. "I can't love you completely, like how you deserve. If we were to date—and god, do I want to date you—you'd have to give up sex because I'm sorry but I'm too sex repulsed to try and do anything with you, and I'd never be able to stand anything like an open relationship, and-"

"Dan, Dan, shhh," Phil said, starting to stroke Dan's cheek again. It was incredibly soothing, and helped settled some of Dan's racing thoughts. "I don't care. I don't care. I can live perfectly content with never having sex again for the rest of my life if I have you, Dan. You are a thousand times better than sex, alright? And you can love me completely even if you aren't sexually attracted to me. I don't need physical pleasure to be happy or be loved 'as I deserve' even if that's what your ex and parents told you when you came out. All you need is love to give, and I have a feeling that you have a lot of that from shutting yourself out for so long."

Their gazes were connected, and Dan didn't know if he was going to start crying or laughing—maybe both. Phil was smiling gently, his eyes so tender in their expression, and Dan wanted nothing more than to kiss this man, to kiss him and hug him and just hide them both away from the world to just be happy together.

So that's what Dan did.

Dan surged forward, wrapping his arms around Phil's shoulders and pulling him in, their mouths crashing together. Dan kissed him like he was a dying man and he was trying to commit the feeling of Phil's mouth to memory, and Phil returned the sentiment just as eagerly, carding his hands through Dan's hair and following every press of Dan's lips with his own.

God, why did Dan ever try and deny himself from falling in love with Phil? Why did he get so caught up in being scared of what happened in the past to enjoy the future? Why didn't he start kissing this man sooner?

Dan didn't know any answers to his questions, but fuck it didn't matter.

They broke away because they had started to run out of air and Dan brought his hands up to Phil's face, cupping it, and nodding, shaking his head up and down furiously, moisture shining in his eyes. He couldn't help it—he didn't remember the last time he had felt. So. Loved. And. Accepted.

"Yes, yes yes yes, Phil, god, I'd want nothing more," Dan whispered, chasing his own words with little kisses on Phil's cheeks, his nose, his forehead, everywhere.

Phil's entire face lit up like the fucking sky and a smile blinding enough to shadow the sun took over his face. He brought them back together, and this time their kiss was slow, both of them smiling into it, wrapped up in each other.

"Daniel Howell, you just made me the happiest man on this side of the Thames."

~~~~~

No matter how much Dan might not have wanted to, they had to disentangle themselves much sooner than preferable because Dan had to shower and get ready for work. He had already been let off the hook by Jaime once, and he refused to leave her hanging like that for a second day in a row. Plus, he needed the money desperately.

However, things were different than his normal routine. Because when he got out of the shower, Phil kissed him on the way in. Because Phil was standing in his kitchen, scrolling on his phone, in Dan's own clothes because Phil only had his Tesco's uniform and he had already slept in it last night. Because they had walked out together, Phil's hand snaking down to intertwine in Dan's within a block of leaving Dan's flat. Because Phil had gone out of his way to walk Dan to work even if it was in the opposite direction of his own flat. Because Phil kissed Dan sweetly on the lips before letting him go, promising to stop in later.

But as Dan walked in the shop, a million emotions swirling in his chest, threatening to burst, they settled, each one fluttering away until only one was left, making Dan's limbs feel light and warm, putting a dumbstruck smile on his face that he knew would end up lasting the whole day.

Dan was happy.

And he wouldn't change it for the world.

[williamsjoan]

Eon’s GCHD MK-II Review — Unlocking the GameCube’s Full Potential

I love the GameCube. I grew up on my Game Boy systems and the Nintendo 64, but the GameCube defined much of my gaming love to this day. I shout the good word of Paper Mario The Thousand-Year Door from the rooftops and grunt when Nintendo ignores my pleas for a spiritual successor. Wind Waker will always be my favorite Zelda game, even if others have surpassed it critically. I remember playing Mario Party with the microphone accessory or being captivated by the planet of Talon IV in Metroid Prime. 

All this love has also been recently twisted by crippling nostalgia. I have a severe case of it. Throw anything from my childhood on screen and I will likely be drawn towards it. That’s why I have been slowly circling down the rabbit hole of resurrecting old game consoles onto modern HD displays for years now. 

My entry point to this niché hobby was a YouTube channel called My Life In Gaming. Coury and Marc run the channel, creating highly educational videos about bringing classic consoles back to life on modern HD TVs. I immediately jumped to their video on the best solutions for the GameCube and found out the financial horror associated with bringing the GameCube into the modern era. Nintendo’s official component cables cost an arm and a leg, going for $250+ on eBay. To get an HDMI port for your GameCube a few years ago required physically modding the system. I nearly pulled the trigger on a roughly $160 mod, but backed off after more research and not being keen on physically altering my childhood system.

Through all this time in the rabbit hole, I came across a new company early in 2018 that was offering a plug-and-play option for HDMI cables on the GameCube. EON created the GCHD, a tiny adapter that plugged into the digital out port on original GameCube systems and allowed native 480p output for $150. Just like the physical mod, I nearly pulled the trigger a few times, but it was never in the budget. 

Ten months later EON revealed an upgraded version of their adapter. The GCHD MK-II (MK-II from here on out for simplicity) was revealed on November 15 and offered a couple new features and refinements over their original model. We were fortunate here at DualShockers to receive a consumer unit a couple days ahead of its official release on December 15, 2018. Selling for the same price of $150, I wanted to find out if the MK-II is really worth the cost to bring my beloved GameCube onto my HD TV.

Before we dive further in, let’s talk specs. The GameCube is capable of 480p digital output. This is thanks to a snazzy port on original model GameCubes that was meant for stereoscopic 3D. That tech was never fully developed, but the port offers access to the GameCube’s lossless digital signal. That’s five years before the PS3! The MK-II uses that port, along with an onboard FPGA chip with custom version of the open-source GCVideo software, to take the digital signal and output it over HDMI with zero input lag. This does not upscale the video to 720p, 1080p, or 4K. You’ll have to use an external scaler for that. The MK-II also allows for analog output via the common red, blue, green component cables meant for the Wii. There is also a new analog/optical audio port for plugging in headphones or a surround sound system.

The MK-II comes packaged in a tiny GameCube designed box. There are three color choices meant to match your hardware; purple, black, and silver. EON let me pick the black edition to match my GameCube. The back of the box details all the features of the adapter, while detailing the easy setup. All that is inside is the MK-II itself and a tiny instruction booklet.

I popped the MK-II out of its box and immediately went to plug it in the back of my GameCube. This adapter only works with DOL-001 model GameCube systems, which will have the digital out port. You’ll definitely want to make sure you have this model GameCube before buying the adapter. Initially, I had trouble getting the MK-II into the two ports on the back. I had to unplug the system entirely and get it in the light to make sure I was lining it up correctly. Once I got it lined up, it fit perfectly and snuggly.

After plugging it in, using it was nearly a breeze. All you have to do is plug in an HDMI cable and boot the system up. It automatically works and displays the GameCube at 480i. To get 480p to work on games, just hold the B button as a game boots up and select “yes” to progressive mode. I found that most time the GameCube prompted me whether or not I held down the B button, but to guarantee it, I’d recommend holding the button down. I say nearly a breeze because I had some trouble syncing a universal remote to access the MK-II’s settings.

I thought I had a remote lying around, but it wasn’t “universal.” I went to Target and bought the cheapest one they had, but it wouldn’t work either. I had to go back to Target, return the $7 remote and swap it for a $15 remote. This remote worked after I read the remote’s instruction manual on how to sync the thing. This was tedious mostly because I didn’t own a universal remote. I was also sick at the time, so that didn’t help matters.

“…using it was nearly a breeze. All you have to do is plug in an HDMI cable and boot the system up.”

Once the remote was synced, I was able to access the settings for the MK-II. Its feature list isn’t too extensive, but it does offer some interesting choices. There is a line doubler for when the GameCube displays 480i content, to help create a picture quality more akin to 480p. You can turn on scanline to simulate a CRT TV. While slightly nostalgic, scanlines really shine on the GameCube’s rare 240p games and GBA games. You may adjust the brightness, contrast, and saturation. There are even options for tweaking the MK-II’s on-screen display (OSD) settings, which is for the settings. Honestly, it really is plug-and-play ready, with only a few settings you may want to tweak for specific games.

The first game I booted up was The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker. I thought the game’s bright color palette and cel-shaded visuals would be a great test point. I’ll let the game speak for itself.

It’s as if the old school yellow, red, white composite cables were smearing Vaseline over the game footage, dulling the colors and shapes. It blew my mind to see it in action. It took what I remember the game looking like and put it on display. And didn’t just clean up Wind Waker. All of my GameCube games, from Super Smash Bros. Melee to Metroid Prime to Paper Mario, were being displayed the way that the developers intended it to be seen. It reminded me of when I put on glasses for the first time: There was a whole world of clarity I was missing out on and I didn’t know it.

As I mentioned above, the MK-II also allows for component output. When I first heard this was one of the new additions, I questioned its inclusion. Why add the support for analog video? After mulling it over and having the MK-II in person though, its addition makes sense for the GameCube’s active and diehard community. Having these two ports allows for simultaneous, lag-free output. This makes stream/capture setups simple at events and tournaments. The GameCube and its games were also designed for old CRT displays, as HD was entering its infancy. Including component allows for the highest quality analog output for purists who want to play on CRTs and PVMs the way the designers intended. It lets users have their high-quality cake and eat it too. 

But this analog path may bring up a common question- why pay $150 to have my GameCube in 480p over analog when I could just use a Wii and its component cables? All first generation Wii systems have backward compatibility with GameCube games. It really comes down to two facts. The first is that the Wii output is purely analog, with no access to the lossless digital signal. Using the MK-II gives us that pure signal, giving us a better picture via HDMI or component. The second fact opens a whole new platform of games—The Game Boy Player.

“It reminded me of when I put on glasses for the first time: There was a whole world of clarity I was missing out on and I didn’t know it.”

Back in 2003, Nintendo released the Game Boy Player, an accessory that attached to the bottom of GameCube systems and allowed Game Boy Advance, Game Boy Color, and Game Boy games to be played on the TV. As a kid, this blew my little mind. I got one for my 9th birthday and it hasn’t left my system since. Now at 24, the Game Boy Player (actually its software) leaves much to be desired. 

There are homebrew software solutions, like the Game Boy Interface (GBI), that put Nintendo’s software to shame. That’s a whole different rabbit hole, but combining that GBI with the MK-II leads to incredible results. 

If the GBI is not an option, the MK-II does a decent job cleaning up the official Game Boy Player software. You can see that the smaller text becomes legible and the overall image is slightly sharper. The GBI is where the crispness of the MK-II shines with GBA games. Even with a CRT filter over the game, it is a better picture than the official software.

When it comes to the audio output, the MK-II matches the format of the video output method. Digital when over HDMI and analog when using component. There is a 3.5mm auxiliary jack for analog output to headphones. I imagine this was implemented for Melee tournaments or just tournament environments.  Tune out the surroundings and really hear the game. The audio still outputs to the TV, so spectators, streaming/capturing setups still get the game audio. Even headphone splitters work!

The 3.5mm jack also doubles as a mini-TOSLINK optical audio jack, providing access to digital surround sound. I tested this out on my surround sound system with Wind Waker and Metroid Prime, both games that support Dolby Surround Pro Logic II. The games sound fuller coming out of three speakers and a subwoofer. Sound didn’t come out of my two other speakers, which is possibly due to the games not taking advantage of 5.1 surround sound. I’m not entirely sure.

“As a piece of hardware, the MK-II is sturdy, full-featured, and straight up easy to use.”

So is all this worth it? That’s probably why you read this far. Is $150 worth accessing the untapped potential of your GameCube? That’s all going to really depend on you.

As a piece of hardware, the MK-II is sturdy, full-featured, and straight up easy to use. It breathes new life into GameCube systems and is one piece that can help the console adapt to modern TVs. But how much do you love your GameCube? Do you play Melee competitively? Do you have a Game Boy Player and want to play your collection on the TV? Is the GameCube your favorite Nintendo system? If you answered yes to any of those and you truly want the best picture that your GameCube has to offer, I think the GCHD MK-II is worth every cent. It’s versatile, powerful, and easy-to-use. Most importantly, it makes the games I love look and feel their very best in a way I just didn’t think was possible.

The post Eon’s GCHD MK-II Review — Unlocking the GameCube’s Full Potential by Max Roberts appeared first on DualShockers.

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