#jazz should be huge

[jackdaw-and-hattrick]

Big fan of Danger Twink! Danny and Hyper-Protective Amazon! Jazz

[koipalm]

jazz singer joker

[owl127]

how long are wolf pregnancies? It didnt seem like a very long time has passed between lexa being on the run and last chapter. Or maybe i didnt pay attention

Way shorter than human pregnancies! And she did have premature pups and stress induced labor. So what would be early spring pups became winter pups.

For a moment I wanted to make more drama about that, but they've been through enough. Like, a pup almost not making it or something; but poor Lexa, give her a break.

[portokali]

here's another tag game cause @pinknoisemp3 is a real one and tagged me to share 9 books i wanna read in 2023!! it's a game ive been tagged in before so pls don't take offense i never did it when you tagged me, i always meant to 🙏🙏

tagging some besties i talk abt books w but no pressure! @quillsand @soupbi @pherelpis @mousmoula @catboypranparakulisaro @darkside-cookies @byrons @teabox and anyone else who wants to!

[waugh-bao]

I can’t say Live By The Sword is going on my favorites list but it was sure nice to hear the snap of that snare starting off. So crisp. I was smiling while listening to it and imagining Charlie play it, but sad at the same time.

Maybe I’m being over dramatic, but I honestly never want to listen to this album again. It makes me viscerally angry that they threw away more than a decade of Charlie’s work, the last of everything he produced as a musician, to put out this piece of soulless, corporate rock trash.

For my money, “Live By The Sword” has one redeeming attribute, and that’s that they only kind of mutilated his drum sound on it (there’s still a bit of cymbal splash and snare), rather than completely destroyed it. As happened on the aptly named “Mess It Up.”

All I got from this experience is that this band has outlived its reason for existence as a creative endeavor.

[izzy-b-hands]

my job interviews both asked for no masks to be worn during them and i was like ok fine i guess bc i do v much need the interviews

guess who started feeling like they had a shitty cold last night, but brushed it off, and now feels way worse and like this is definitely a chest cold?

🙋‍♂️💀

[callmerainman]

Alastor in a relationship with a pure hearted s/o

a/n. the relationship can be interpreted as queerplatonic or even romantic if you wish, but not sexual in any nature. hope Alastor is not ooc!

tw! canon typical violence

"cuddled up with a heart condemned, I should love you and I swear I do"

it's true that Alastor is touch averse, but this doesn't apply if it's you we're talking about.

also, we saw that Alastor dislikes physical touch only when it's someone else getting handsy with him. he can be pretty touchy if he wants to and likes to be close to you.

sneaking an arm around your waist, putting his hands on your shoulders, pecking your forehead. also, arms intertwined while walking around the city.

hand holding is more occasional, but not excluded at all.

he likes the sound of your laugh, and has a soft spot for your smile. he thinks that it suits you so well like a perfect-chosen accessory.

veeery protective. he knows you can be naïve and that Hell loves to take advantage of more innocent inhabitants.

he prefers to go with you when you have to leave the Hotel and strikes deathly smiles to anyone who dares to look at you with any kind of intention.

you're the only person who can see him drop his smile sometimes. he doesn't have to use it as a tool when you're around so there's no reason for him to always keep it. he doesn't feel vulnerable around your presence.

sometimes he comes back to the Hotel covered in blood. you don't approve his ways, and he knows, but he's just like this.

you shrug your shoulders, sigh, and then take some towels to clean him up.

"you'll end up ruining your coat and your pretty face like this"

loooves to dance with you. swing dancing specifically. maybe to the rhythm of an upbeat jazz tune in your room.

you were completely wack at dancing the Charleston, but he taught you well since he's an absolute beast at it.

you occasionally slow dance, it's a really intimate moment for you and Alastor and makes you both feel closer to each other. your favourite spot to slow dance is the forest in his room, especially at night under a clear and starry sky.

you like to drink together, he's a classy type of drunk and you make the best conversations while sharing a glass together.

sometimes, he'll start ruminating about the possibility of you redeeming yourself and leaving the Hotel.

he doesn't like ruminating, it makes him feel weird because he doesn't believe in redemption in the first place. so case closed...right?

he says to himself that even if you were to be, he would find a way to let you stay.

but he immediately tells himself that he doesn't want to force you. but he also starts to get concerned because it's not like him to contain himself and his cold heart. more ruminating, more concerned Alastor.

he's aware that he cares about you, and that you're special to him and that he feels a deep rooted love. but he never thought it would affect his evilness and now he's confused.

you like to cook for him, since you're aware that he's a huge foodie. and he loves to do the same for you! he likes to share his mom's recipes.

loves to call you "my darling"

you like to hang out at his radio tower, just listening to him intently while he hosts a program.

sometimes even asks you to join in to talk about jazz!

very occasionally sleeping together, just holding your hands with fingers intertwined.

honestly Alastor doesn't even know what love is, but he just knows that he feels it for you.

[bluerosefox]

Tim, buddy, what do you mean you might had accidentally made a Love Child?!

Danny finds out that

1. He's a clonish 'love child' of two heroes

2. He was accidentally created during one of his donors mental break downs after losing his father and best friends (one of which was his other donor)

3. CW interfered before his creator realized what he made and pulled him out of that dimension because "it would had lead that world to true ruin if he found out at his state of mind. He's better now but it would had been the final straw for him should anything had happened to you in his care and given who he had to partner up with later... I did what I had to."

4. Due to Danny having a bad fall out with his parents after he told them about being Phantom (they didn't attack him... but they did disown him.) Danny is left adrift of what to do. He doesn't wanna bug Jazz, she's in college and dorming. Tuckers place has no room. Sam's parents would never let him stay. Vlad was a definitely a no go. And Dani (Ellie) last check in was near the Amazon rainforest.

5. Danny finds out some of his powers might not be as ghostly as he thought... it does explain the huge power boost some of his powers have compared to other ghosts.

6. He went to Clockwork... who proceeded to tell him the truth, smile his cryptic smile while saying "and now. Have fun this time around. I'll see you again in due time Daniel." Before yeeting him into a portal.

7. Danny woke up in his home dimension.... deaged to being five years old (the age he would be if he stayed and grew by now) (DC timeline is slower than DP in this)

8. He woke up apparently his creator's home city... during a Gala (Danny woke up in a garden, dazed and confused. His memories are fuzzy)... and wandered into the party... and apparently he looked like a perfect mix of his.. dads? Which catches A LOT of peoples attention.

9. Especially with Tim Drake-Wayne and Conner Kent-Luthor just announcing they're dating that very night.

10. Rumors and gossip of a random kid, who looks just like the recent happily announced couple, go flying quickly among the elite... and reaches certain ears before it gets to batfam and supers (I have a feeling they learned how to block out rumors and gossips during these events)

11. Those ears happen to be Lex Luthor and Ra's al Ghul (both who are there at the Gala just to annoy and unnerve the Bats and Supers)

12. By the time the rumors get to Tim and Conner, they find Danny almost getting taken away by one of those two.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Exchange

Jack decided that to strengthen the bond between father and son, he and Danny should go to a hunt together. Overall, Jack was pleased with the way his boy navigated in the dark. He even helped him fend off the bandits who wanted to rob them. Well, Danny wore some strange costume in the middle of all the fun but Jack didn’t know anything about youth fashion, so he didn’t comment on it.

~~~~ "Honey, we’re home. I hope the fudge for the champions is ready. Right, Danny?" Proud father patted his son on the back. Looks like Danny finally got some muscle. "Honey, I hate to break it to you, but we can’t keep Robin." Maddie gently pulled her husband aside from the vigilante. "What? You’re not Danny?" Jack took a closer look at the boy. "I tried to tell you right away, but you turned the music up to full volume and…" Robin started making excuses. "Jack, where’s our son then?" Maddie asked anxiously. Jazz screamed from the kitchen. "It’s okay, Mom, Danny texted me that he took a taxi." Two minutes later, the Batmobile stopped near their house. A huge shadow came out of the driver’s side and right after him their boy jumped out of the car. The boy seriously looked at Batman. "I don’t have any cash with me. But I can transfer the money to your card." Batman blinked and looked at Fenton’s parents. "I believe this is yours. Can I have mine?" "Finally, we’re already late for dinner. " The boy in the colorful suit ran down the stairs.

~~~~

"Danny, my boy, I am so sorry that I mistook you for this guy. You must have been so scared of being alone in Gotham. " Jack hasn’t stopped apologizing to Danny for the last hour. "Come on, Dad, I’m not mad at you at all. That was cool." Danny smiled mischievously and whispered, like it was a secret. "In fact, Batman is a face-blind as you are. I met him in the middle of a battle, and he scolded me for going out unarmed. And he did not took the kit of batarangs back. Do you think Sam would like them?" "She’s gonna be thrilled." Jack smiled a little and wiped his tears. "Also, when we got in the car, for the first ten minutes he was clearly driving me to his lair. But I was too quiet for Robin, and that made him suspicious." Danny sighed. "I was forced to confess that he’d took the wrong teenager."

~~~~

"God, you weren’t kidnapped this time by a villain but by a civilian?" Dick couldn’t stop laughing at his little brother. "Shut up." Robin attacked him. "The man was terribly insistent."

[worldlxvlys]

I have been ITCHING for a latina!gf x bf!matt oneshot where the readers family is having a big get together and she brings Matt to meet everyone and he’s super nervous and yadda ya dad all that jazz but when they get there either one of the tías or the readers mama basically like steals Matt and he follows her around and gets loved on by readers big huge Mexican family and all the tiny cousins tease him cause he only knows gringo Spanish and AHHHHH I’d love love love it in your writing style 🙏😭😭😭😭

btw you’re my fav and ily and feel free to do whatever you want w the request obv 🥸🤭🫶🫶

angel

bf! matt sturniolo x latina! reader

warnings: cursing

a/n: i’m SO sorry it took me so long to get to this, i hope it was worth the wait

pls cut me some slack, i don’t have a single latina bone in my body, but i did my best 🙏🏾

for @riversandwinds <33

“matt, you’re gonna be fine. they’re gonna love you, ok?” i said as i cupped his cheek.

“are you sure?” matt asked, the worry showing clearly on his face.

“would i lie to you, my love ?” i asked him.

“no”

“it’s normal to be nervous, matt. but you don’t have to be, i’ll be there the whole time” i told him, giving his hand a peck.

“thank you” he smiled at me before placing his lips on mine in a sweet kiss.

“so, remind me, why did we get here late on purpose ?” he asked when we pulled away.

“nobody comes to these on time, matt”

“ok, but, couldn’t we have at least tried ?"

“shut up and come on” i spoke, playfully rolling my eyes at him.

**

the second my mom saw matt, she rushed over to us.

she had met matt a few months after we started dating, and instantly loved him.

“ mateo !” she yelled as she approached us. “ ¿ cómo estás, mijo ?” she placed a kiss on his cheek before pulling him into a hug.

a smile instantly grew on matt’s face as he was squeezed by the woman.

“i’m good ! i missed you!” matt spoke, beaming at her.

“well, damn. i’m here too mom” i pointed out as she continued to sway him side to side.

“i see you all the time, mateo needs his love too” she waved him off.

“yeah, i need my love too” he agreed.

i looked around in disbelief, before she began to walk off with him.

“ vamos, i want you to meet…” her voice trailed off as they got further away.

“wait, you can’t just steal him !” i yelled, before following after her.

i followed them to a group of my tías who were talking amongst themselves.

when they saw matt, the smiles on their faces grew wider.

“ ¡ qué lindo ! this is your boyfriend ?” she asked me, her eyes wide.

“ yeah” i smiled.

“this is mateo !” my mom spoke.

“i’m mateo” he repeated with a smile on his face.

“ adorable, you did good cariña “

“ i know ” i spoke before smiling at him. he smiled back at this, his cheeks turning red.

“ay ! he’s blushingggg” the group of women gushed at our flustered states.

my mom rubbed our shoulders comfortingly, before pulling us to talk to more people.

“is he…?” matt whispered to me as we passed one of my tíos who was drunkenly dancing by himself.

“yup” i answered before waving to him. he waved back with a big smile on his face.

we continued to follow my mom, introducing matt to more and more people.

“alright, are we gonna introduce him to the entire world ? i think we’re good” i told her, watching as she continued to guide him through the house.

suddenly, a flurry of kids passed us, all running and chasing each other.

one of them, my little cousin, stopped in front of us.

“ who is that ?” she asked me, pointing to matt.

“ this is matt, my boyfriend”

“hi, matt ! wanna play with us?” she asked him with a smile on her face.

he looked at me, silently asking if he should go.

“ don’t look at me, mateo. go, have fun !” i spoke, silently thanking angel for asking him and not me.

“ come on!” she yelled before dragging him away.

**

“niños, the food is ready” my abuela yelled.

the kids came running into the room, going to sit at the table, before getting stopped.

“ no, lávense las manos” she spoke, being met with several sighs as they left to wash their hands.

“ ¿ dónde estás mateo ?” i asked the children, wondering where matt went.

“he’s with angel still, she was teaching him spanish. he tried to ask me what my name was and it sounded like he was asking if i was a llama instead”

my mom bursted out laughing at that.

“it’s ok though, he’s my favorite white boy ” he said before running to wash his hands.

“dios mío” i sighed out. “let me go get this man”

when i found the two of them, i stood in the doorway, watching angel talk to him.

“ mi novia es bonita” she spoke to him.

“mi novia es bonita” he repeated. “my girlfriend is pretty”

“good, mi novia es una princesa” she said.

“mi novia es una princesa” “my girlfriend is a princess” he said.

“ now if you ever get sad, you can just say that and it’ll help you feel better. she helps me feel better too”

i knocked on the door, letting them know i was there.

“ food’s ready, guys. you hungry ?” they both nodded in response.

“is any of it spicy?” matt asked, eyes widening slightly.

“oh, baby…” i spoke, pursing my lips together.

“it’s ok, mateo ! i’ll tell you what the foods are” angel perked up at the chance to teach him more.

“alright, i’ll be there in a minute” he replied.

angel went to leave, stopping to pull me down to her level.

she looked at matt, before moving her face to my ear, cupping her hands around her mouth, “i like him” she whispered before running off .

🌺🌺🌺🌺

i’m sorry if any of the spanish is off, it shouldn’t be cause i didn’t go crazy with it, but i’m just going off of what i remember from high school spanish 😭

if this isn’t good please tell me 🙏🏾

masterlist

tag list: list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07

[corroded-hellfire]

Finally His Year - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Collab with my soulmate @munson-blurbs 🩵

Summary: It’s Eddie’s birthday and what he really wants is you.

Note: In honor of JQ’s 30th birthday woohoo 🎉

Words: 4.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The Munson house is buzzing when you arrive. There are three unfamiliar cars parked in front of it, probably from the other people celebrating Eddie’s birthday with him. You have his gift tucked under your arm and a Tupperware of raspberry and white chocolate chip cookies in that same hand, using the free one to ring the doorbell. 

You barely have time to pull your forefinger back before the door swings open. Luke peeks his head around, grinning when he sees you standing there. 

“Good evening, madam-a-zell,” he says in a vague concoction of European accents—none of them even resembling French. “May I take your—ooh, cookies!”

Laughing, you reach over and ruffle his mop of curls. “These are for Daddy, Luke-miere.” When his face falls, you quickly add, “but maybe he’ll share.”

This placates him, and he skips off to announce your arrival. As soon as he says your name, you hear the sound of Eddie’s feet shuffling towards the entryway. 

“You made it!” He says with a huge smile. In your dreams, he pulls you in for a hug and kisses you tenderly. But this is real life, so he just stands with his hands in his pockets. 

“I made it,” you agree awkwardly. It takes a moment for you to remember everything you’re holding. “Oh, these are all for you.” You maneuver it all, handing him the cylindrical tube and then the plastic container. Luke loudly clears his throat, and you grin. “Unless you feel like sharing the cookies.”

Eddie takes the presents, shaking his head at his younger son’s interruption. “I’ll consider it. Thank you, Sweetheart.”

That stupid nickname. You love and hate it; as much as he calls you that, you know you’re not his sweetheart. Because he’s married. 

His wife—God, you hated that she held that title—was sipping a full glass of wine. Though she’s standing next to Nancy, the two aren’t exchanging any words. 

You should go over there. Brittany is technically one of your employers, so it’s best not to rock the boat. Unless, of course, you could ensure she’d fall overboard. 

Plastering a feigned smile on your face, you walk over to her. Before you can even get out a hello, she points towards Ryan and Luke. 

“They have to go to bed at nine o’clock, so just have them in their pajamas with their teeth brushed by then.”

Embarrassment crawls under your skin. “Oh, I, um, I’m actually here for the party. Not to babysit.”

Brittany doesn’t seem thrown off at all; she just rolls her eyes and turns to Nancy. “Didn’t realize people still needed parties after they turned thirty,” she quips. 

To her credit, Nancy just shrugs and walks to you, ignoring the snark hurled your way. She guides you over to where the rest of the group is chatting. 

“Can you say, ‘Uncle Dusty’?” Dustin asks little Tiffany Mayfield-Sinclair, gently bouncing her in his arms. “C’mon…Un-kul Duh-stee!”

“Elmo!” Tiffany claps her chubby hands together gleefully, unbothered by Dustin’s frustration. 

“I think your kid’s broken,” he grumbles, handing the little girl back to Lucas. 

“She was fine until you held her,” Lucas quips as he holds his daughter against his chest.

“Or maybe she just thinks you look like Elmo,” Steve offers with a shrug. 

“What is this, high school?” Dustin asks, looking between his friends. “Ganging up on me?”

Eddie shakes his head and gives a loud tsk. 

“It’s because you’re not part of the club, Henderson.”

“Oh, because I’m not a dad?” Dustin asks, gesturing with a motion that looks very similar to jazz hands. “That’s fine. Because I’m the coolest uncle these kids have. Someone has to be that figure in their lives.”

“Are they always like this?” you ask Nancy with an amused chuckle.

“Since high school,” Nancy confirms with a sigh. “The sad thing is, I can see how they’ve matured since then.”

You giggle at her response before there’s a weighted thunk against the front of your legs. Ryan’s chocolate eyes peer up at you, a huge grin on his round face. 

“Well hello, you,” you greet him, reaching down to ruffle his honey colored hair. 

“I’m so happy you’re here!” Ryan cheers. Warmth spreads in your chest at his words. You’re touched until he opens his mouth again to ask, “Luke said you brought cookies?”

“I did,” you tell him, tugging on a lock of hair that’s fallen into his eyes. “But they’re for your dad. It’s up to him if he wants to share with you guys.” Of course he will, you think to yourself. Eddie loves these boys more than Luke loves his Hot Wheels collection; and as you’re reminded by the five-year-old almost every day you babysit, that’s a lot. 

“Maybe after he opens his presents,” Ryan muses, more to himself than you. “Or after we have the cake Aunt Nancy made.

“Ryan!”

A little girl’s call echoes around the room. The older Munson boy gives you a quick smile before running towards the kitchen where Natalie Harrington is drawing a picture. 

Something Ryan said sticks in your brain though. You turn towards Nancy, brow pinching slightly.

“You made Eddie’s cake?” you ask. 

The deep breath Nancy takes lets you know there’s more to the story than she’s probably going to tell you. After all, she hardly knows you. The two of you had only met a handful of times since you started watching the boys last year and none of the visits were particularly long. It's an annoyed sigh that Nancy heaves out, her petite shoulders falling with the release. She’s not annoyed at you, if her kindness and body language towards you are anything to go on. So, what’s got her so tense?

“I did,” Nancy affirms. She’s quiet for a moment and at first you think that’s all she’s going to say. But the way her head bobbles slightly from side to side and her jaw muscles tighten and release, you can tell she’s picking her words carefully before she speaks. To her, you’re her friend’s employee so how much should she reveal? “Steve, um, called Eddie yesterday morning to confirm the time for the party today. Eddie was headed out the door just as Steve called. He said he was going to the grocery store. To buy his own birthday cake.”

“His own? Why couldn’t his wife get it? Or better yet, why didn’t she make one for him with the boys?” Your mind floats back to when you and the boys made a cake for Ryan’s birthday over the summer. It was messy and overly sweet, but the love and care put into it are what made it special. 

“That’s what I said,” Nancy grits out through a clenched jaw. After a few moments, you see Nancy’s body deflate. The tension rolls off her like a wave returning to the sea. “So, I made him one. Carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.”

“Carrot cake?” you ask, wrinkling up your nose. It’s not that you disliked the dessert, it just wasn’t what you would’ve pegged Eddie for on his birthday. 

“I know,” Nancy says with a small chuckle. She shakes her head in amusement, wavy locks of hair swaying at the movement. “He can’t be typical, right? Not chocolate or vanilla—or even strawberry, but carrot cake. That’s Eddie for ya.”

The party continues with casual conversations: milestones Tiffany is meeting, work updates for the “kids” (who were now full-fledged adults, but would always be freshmen to Eddie), and a tentatively scheduled reunion for their high school Dungeons & Dragons club. It only came to a stop when there was a crash in the kitchen. 

Everyone’s heads whipped around at the sound, worried that one of the Munson or Harrington children was causing chaos, but the reason for the clamor was none other than Brittany. She’d dropped the cheese and cracker board on the ground and was laughing like she’d just heard the funniest joke. 

“Oopsie daisy!” She cackles, nearly falling over with the force of her laugh. While the rest of you had been casually sipping wine or beer, she had been drinking like she was at a frat party. 

“Jesus,” Nancy mutters under her breath. 

Eddie glances at Steve, who nods at Lucas, and the two of them step in towards Brittany. 

“C’mon, time for bed, Britt,” Steve says as patiently as he can manage. He hooks an arm around her, and Lucas does the same on the other side. It’s obvious that this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. A well-oiled machine, ensuring that the kids are none the wiser.

Small miracles, you suppose. 

“We can do presents when they get back,” Max jumps in, trying to keep the attention away from the drunk woman stumbling away. 

Eddie nods in agreement, collecting the various gifts from the kitchen table and placing them next to his spot on the sofa. When he sits, he spreads his legs enough that you can imagine yourself between them, pressing kisses up his thighs to his—

No. Stop it. 

When Steve and Lucas return, Eddie reaches for the first package. Though the room is filled with excited murmurs and crinkling wrapping paper, you can still make out the quiet conversation between Nancy and her husband. 

“Did you hold a pillow over her head?”

“No, Nance.”

“Damn it.”

You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a smile. 

Eddie pulls out a pair of sneakers from the box: white with a black check mark on the side. He immediately slides them on his feet, wiggling his toes around to ensure enough room. “These are perfect! My old ones were falling apart.”

“We know,” Nancy says wryly as Steve proudly announces, “You said you liked mine, so I got you the same ones.”

“Aww!” Dustin coos, pursing his lips exaggeratedly. “You guys are twins!

Eddie discreetly flips him off before continuing through his stash. Theo and Natalie Harrington made him woven friendship bracelets, which he immediately slid onto his left wrist. When he opens Dustin’s gift, a mug printed with the words “rock ‘n roll” underneath a cartoon rock and dinner roll, Wayne proclaims that it’s even cornier than the ones in the trailer. 

Eddie’s face lights up at the present from Max and Lucas—a new Walkman and some heavy metal cassettes. 

A pit forms in your stomach: is your gift going to be enough? Will he even like it? Was this whole thing a bad—

“Holy shit.”

You look up to see Eddie staring awestruck at the now-unwrapped present; specifically, the present you got for him. It’s an autographed Metallica poster that you’d spotted at the mall months ago, before his birthday was even a consideration. You’d bought it and kept it safely in your room, waiting for the perfect time to give it to him. 

“Sweetheart, this is…” He just shakes his head, blinking misty eyes. “Wow. I, um…thank you,” he finally manages. 

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie had seen that same poster just last week. He had Brittany’s shopping bags clutched in his hands when he walked towards the record store. 

Kirk Hammett’s signature called to him like a siren. 

Eddie was just about ready to pay for it when Brittany marched over, plucking it from his grip and mumbling something about not having room for any more of his stupid music shit. 

That had been the end of that. 

“You’re welcome,” you say with a small shrug, as if it was nothing at all. “I saw it and immediately thought of you.” That wasn’t too much to say, right? It’s normal to think of someone when you see something you know they’d love, right? Even if that person is your boss?

Once Luke stops scavenging through his father’s presents like one might be hidden there for him, he looks up at his dad with wide, pleading eyes that he most definitely inherited from the man. 

“Time for caaaake?”

Eddie snorts and playfully rolls his eyes. A ringed hand comes down to ruffle the little boy’s curls.

“I guess we could have cake now.”

The Munson boys and the Harrington sibling duo cheer in excitement and beat everyone else into the kitchen. All you can hear as the kids disappear into the next room is an I’m okay! from Luke.

Steve taps you on the shoulder as you step over the threshold into the kitchen.

“Hey, could you give me a hand with the cake?” he asks. 

“Sure.” You follow Steve over to the refrigerator, silently wondering how many women had actually denied the handsome man anything when he asked in such a smooth voice. 

The cake looks delicious as Steve pulls it out of the fridge. Nancy definitely put in some work to make sure it turned out this lovely. The cream cheese frosting is smooth on all sides with delicate piping lining the edge of the rectangular sheet cake. In a beautiful scrawl that is far nicer than your own handwriting, she had written “Happy Birthday Eddie!” in black gel icing. 

Steve sets the cake down on the gray granite counter and reaches for a drugstore bag that has a pack of candles and a lighter in it. The two of you work as a team to plug the cake with the multicolored striped sticks and take turns lighting different sides of the cake. 

“You got it?” Steve asks as he steps over towards the light switches on the wall.

“Yep,” you assure him as you carefully lift the flaming desert off the counter. Turning around to face the table proves the most difficult part as you slowly spin your body while keeping the cake steady. 

Eddie is seated at the table, kids surrounding him on all sides as they clamor about what’s taking so long with the cake. Taking so long? You thought you and Steve worked pretty efficiently together. 

“Watch out rugrats,” Dustin says, clapping a hand on Luke’s shoulder and pulling him out of your way. 

You give the curly haired man a grateful smile before you slide the cake onto the table right in front of Eddie. As you go to pull your arms away, pale, calloused fingers reach up and rest against your skin for a moment.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Eddie says. 

All you did was carry a cake over but you’re more than glad to receive praise from your boss any time that you can. 

Steve flips the kitchen lights off and everyone breaks into a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday. Ryan stands right in front of you as you sing, and you rest your hands on his small shoulders. 

“Make a wish!” Luke calls from Dustin’s side once the singing ended. He watches as his dad purses his lips, thinking of a wish. The dim lighting in the room may be playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn Eddie’s eyes flickered over to you before he took a deep breath and blew out all thirty-something of the candles on the first try. 

“Yay!” Luke cheers while everyone else claps. “Whatcha wish for?”

Ryan scoffs and rolls his eyes at his little brother. “He can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

“For my last birthday I wished for a pet,” Luke says. 

“Is that why you dug up the worm in the backyard?” Eddie asks.

“Yep,” Luke announces, a proud smile on his face. 

“Wormy Munson is missed,” Ryan says, patting his little brother’s shoulder. 

The attention quickly turns from squiggly little pets when Nancy asks the room, “Who wants a piece?”

“Me!” Four children’s hands shoot up at the same time, but Nancy just shakes her head at them.

“Birthday boy gets first crack at it,” she says as she slices a piece and transfers it to a Darth Vader paper plate. Nancy delivers that and a plastic fork to Eddie before returning to the counter to cut slices for the rest of the guests. 

When you get your piece of cake, you slip into a seat next to Eddie’s at the table. 

“So, carrot cake, huh?” you ask him with a playful smirk on your face. 

“Hey, gotta get vegetables into these kids somehow,” Eddie says, reaching behind him to tickle Ryan’s belly. The older boy laughs and moves out of his dad’s reach. 

“Broccoli brownies next?” you ask, a shit eating grin on your face before you pop a chunk of cake into your mouth.

“Such a smart ass,” Eddie teases, scooping some of his icing onto his pinky and wiping it off on the tip of your nose. Both boys giggle as you try to reach it with your tongue, trying to stretch it out as far as possible to lick it off. Though the boys found it funny, Eddie had an entirely different feeling wash over him as he watched your tongue snake out to try and lick the white substance off your face. His pants tighten and Eddie shifts in his seat, trying to hide his crotch further beneath the table. 

Guests drift in and out of the kitchen with their plates of cake, mingling with one another out in the living room. You offer to collect the paper plates up for the garbage once everyone is done. You’re carrying the stack back towards the kitchen when you hear Steve and Eddie having a conversation in there. It’s pretty clear this is just meant to be between them, but when you hear Steve’s question to his best friend, your feet become glued to the floor. 

“Think you’ll finally get lucky tonight since it’s your birthday?” 

Eddie snorts. “It doesn’t seem like it.” You can practically picture him nodding his head in the direction of his bedroom where Brittany is probably snoring her ass off as she sleeps off her alcohol. You really hope she has a hangover tomorrow. 

“Not what I meant, dude,” Steve replies.

This catches you off guard. Who could Steve possibly be talking about if not Brittany? Does… A sickening thought winds its way through your brain, claws taking hold in those places that are already prone to insecurities. Does Eddie have a girlfriend? It’s not like you would judge him for it after Brittany’s whoring around is common knowledge. But it drives an ice pick through your heart just picturing Eddie with his own awful, evil wife. Knowing he might be with someone who could be kind and caring should comfort you—but it doesn’t. It makes you want to tear your skin off to think of Eddie with anyone else but you. Because if he wasn’t going to be with Brittany, you wanted him to be with you. And if you didn’t even get a chance to show him what the two of you could be together? The idea threatened to destroy you. 

“Watch it Harrington,” Eddie answers Steve, his voice low. It’s the closest thing to a warning you’ve ever heard from him. 

A familiar toddler’s cry abruptly ends their conversation and your now-agonizing eavesdropping. Eddie shakes his head, giving Steve one last glare as he walks out of the kitchen, and looks over at a wailing Tiffany Mayfield-Sinclair. 

Ryan scrunches his face. “Daddy, play her the song!”

“Yeah, play it!” Luke echoes, hands pressed to his ears. 

Now you’re intrigued. “What song?”

Eddie sighs. “Boys, I don’t think anyone wants to hear me play—”

“Au contraire,” Dustin butts in with a smirk. He hands Eddie his acoustic guitar, propped up in the corner. “I think we’d all love a little concert.”

Eddie gives you a look that pleads help me out here, but you’re already invested. 

“Concert! Concert!” You chant, laughing when the others join in. 

He doesn’t say anything, just slips the strap over his shoulder and quickly tunes the guitar. 

“If…you’re…happy and you know it, clap your hands!”

Everyone in the room claps twice. Everyone except Tiffany, who is still wailing. 

“If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands!”

Same result. 

“All right, all right. Let’s skip to a different verse.” Eddie takes in the baby’s squealing form. 

“If…you’re…angry and you know it, do a growl.” He lets out the most ridiculous roar you’ve ever heard, and you can’t help but laugh. 

From her mother’s arms, Tiffany lets out a roar of her own. Your giggle catches her attention, and she reaches out for you to hold her. 

For a moment, Eddie believes his heart is going to implode from the sweet scene in front of him. He wills himself to concentrate on playing, but the sight of you holding a baby girl weakens his resolve. How many times has he daydreamed about you holding his baby girl that he shares with you? Probably too many times on the job for someone who deals with heavy machinery. In his mind she has your hair and his eyes—though he knows she’d probably gets his curls since both boys have them to a degree.

Tiffany bounces in your arms, enraptured in the music. If Eddie plays Old MacDonald, she’ll be mind-blown. 

The soft timbre of Eddie’s voice, enthusiastic enough to capture Tiffany’s attention without riling her up, has your heart beating double time. Though you’ve known from the beginning that Eddie plays guitar, this is the first time you actually get to witness it. It’s as sexy as you’ve always imagined—even if he’s only playing nursery rhymes.

“There we go,” Eddie murmurs as whatever had been bothering the little girl seemingly dissipates. He grins at Max and Lucas. “That should buy you about five minutes before the next meltdown.”

Sure enough, the crying starts up again, signaling the party’s end. Hugs are exchanged as everyone clears out; final “happy birthday’s” sent Eddie’s way.

There’s a small tug on your arm just as you’re about to grab your purse. “Can you tuck us into bed?” Ryan asks, eyes wide. Luke’s at his side, nodding in agreement. 

“Of course.” Always the babysitter, you think, but you truly enjoy being a part of their lives. The fact that they also enjoy it makes it even better.

The youngest Munson beams at you. “Maybe you can sleep over!”

“Uh, not this time. Sorry, kiddo.”

After teeth have been brushed and bedtime stories have been read, you retreat back to the kitchen. Eddie is clipping open bags of potato chips, and you start to gather any used paper platesto toss in the trash. 

“You don’t have to,” Eddie says, gesturing towards the stack of disposable cups in your hand. 

You cock your brow and smirk. “Do you really wanna clean all of this by yourself?”

“Fuck no.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He smiles back at you, shaking his head when he notices icing smeared on the back of a kitchen chair. “Should’ve put the boys on clean-up duty” he grunts.

“Then everything would just get shoved under the couch and they’d call it a day,” you point out, and he readily agrees.

Once the floor has been swept and the leftover food has been placed in the refrigerator, you have no valid excuse to stay any longer.

“I should get going,” you say, plucking your keys from your bag and twirling the chain around your forefinger. “I hope you had a good birthday.”

Eddie nods as he walks with you to the front door. He holds it open for you, then follows you out to your car. “Yeah, it was great. Especially your gift. It, um, meant a lot.” A slight rosiness tinges his cheeks, and he pulls you in for a hug.

You return it easily, your arms wrapping around his torso. Both of you hold on a beat longer than necessary, but you can’t seem to pull away.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, breath tickling your ear. He leans in; for a moment, it seems like he’s going to kiss the top of your head, but he takes a step back. Eddie’s done it so many times in his mind before that he almost forgot he doesn’t get to do it in real life. “Get home safe, yeah?”

“I will.” You duck into your car, giving him a small wave before you pull out of the driveway. As you drive, you watch Eddie trudge back into the house from your rearview mirror.

Once he’s inside, he closes the door and breathes out a sigh. He adjusts himself over his pants, painfully aware that he’s half-hard from a simple hug. Looking towards the bedroom he shares with Brittany, he pivots away and beelines towards the Tupperware of cookies you’d made.

Taking a big bite, he chews thoughtfully, delaying the inevitable. If only he could curl up next to you instead of her. He chuckles at the insanity of the idea and takes another bite of cookie.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.”

[meanbossart]

Oh boy, VaM is kind of a trial and error experience LOL I couldn't really show you how to use the interface and stuff without a whole video or something, but it's not THAT difficult to get a hang of if you just give yourself a day or two to play around, not to mention the number of tutorials you find out there. Luckily, if you only want to use it as a reference software that makes the process far easier (to this day I have no idea how to animate on that thing, since that's not what I use it for)

As for how I use it, it's pretty self explanatory - if there's a complicated pose I want to draw but I'm either having trouble with it, or just want to double-check angles/anatomy, I will use it as a resource! I use for most of my "proper" pieces (y'know, the nicer looking ones) and every once in a while for my silly comics if I'm having trouble with a pose.

Lets use this drawing for example (the character on top of DU drow belongs to @namespara )

I don't draw a lot of mud-wrestling (shocking, I know) but I had an idea of the kind of pose I wanted them to be in. So the very first thing I did was make a rough sketch of what I was envisioning:

I often do a rough sketch first, even If I know I'm going to be pulling the program up because A) It's less tedious than adjusting the models over and over again until I pick a pose and B) because sometimes I'll decide I don't need the reference, after all, and so that's 30 minutes I'll have spared myself of playing around on the software.

Now, this is a pretty complicated pose! It's in a weird angle and the bodies are making contact in ways I'm not used to depicting, so I did choose to whip out VaM for this one. I went into the program and after some messing around, I flopped my little dolls together like this:

Now something really cool about VaM is that you can completely customize your models, and if you have the patience, I would definitely encourage you to do so! Obviously, you don't have to make picture perfect replicas of every single character you have, but as you can see here I have made a DU drow "decoy" to help me better understand some of his features when I draw him: he has a strong brow, a short nose, a square jawline - these are all going to look a very specific way from certain angles, and I might not always be sure of how to draw it right! So it's useful to have models that bear SOME semblance to the character so you can better understand how different viewpoints will affect their bone structure and mass.

Also thank fucking god for the elf-ear slider. Figuring out how to draw those shits from certain angles was a huge pain in the ass when I started drawing DnD races.

So, with the reference in hand, I go over the sketch again:

Now you may notice that I don't stick to the reference 100%. There's three reasons for this:

posing on VaM is tedious as hell. You can get something incredibly natural looking and picture-perfect to reference from if you wish, but it's going to take you hours to do. So, for the most part I just slap guys together until the results are "close enough" and use that.

In my opinion, you should always aim to ENHANCE your reference material, not replicate it exactly!

While VaM is a PRETTY DANG GOOD source of anatomical reference, it isn't perfect, I often supplement it with further reference from real life resources or make tweaks based on my own knowledge where I catch it falling short (and, antithetical to what I just said, I sometimes fuck the anatomy up further on purpose if I think it looks better that way LOL it's all jazz baby).

Then lines, color, yada yada. I don't have a tutorial on that and I don't think I could make one, because my process is chaotic as hell, but I do at times use Virt-a-mate as loose reference for lighting too when coloring - waaaaayyyy less so however, because that process is even more tedious and I feel like I often get better results by just winging it. It is a feature of the program though, and I'm sure it would be helpful for someone who has a difficult time visualizing lights and shadows. I only started using this program a few months ago, so I happened to already have a pretty good understanding of that kind of thing and just don't personally feel like I get much out of that particular mechanic.

Here's a few other examples of pieces that I made reference for (WARNING: Suggestive)

Now, for the question many of you may want to ask:

"Can I trace this junk?"

And to that, I say: Buddy, you can do whatever the hell you want with the reference material you created.

However,

If your goal is to learn and improve your art, and to recreate realistic proportions and anatomy from memory, tracing won't help you.

Developing your own style, your muscle memory, and personal technique will all be hindered by choosing to trace instead of drawing from observation, so I would encourage against it. Hell - even when tracing is employed as a technique, it's usually by high-skill realism & concept artists who are looking to either cut some corners, save time, or just double-check their own proportions in order to improve further - if you try tracing as a beginner, you will most definitely find the result to still look stiff and "off".

So trust me, there is so much more to be gained from drawing from observation. Make note of tangents, compare proportions, use all the elements of the picture to dictate where and how things should go - it will be a far more rewarding experience.

Hopefully this has been helpful! VaM is a really cheap program (you get it on the guys' patreon for I think 8 dollars, just google it!) and it's definitely been worth my money as an artist since I found it. Learning to use it can be a little intimidating at first glance, but as I said above you only really need a day plus one or two tutorials to get a hang of the interface.

A fair warning though, IT IS A SOFTWARE MADE FOR VIRTUAL SEX/ADULT ANIMATION So when looking it up expect to see a some spicy content.

[emdeerm]

Half-brother?!?!????

Prompt ig. Don't have enough knowledge to pull it off.

So, Dp stuff happen. AGIT too. So PP is gone and forgotten.

ANYWAY. Time passes, and after another huge battle of Ghosts, Maddie dies. Jack is distraught. He wasn't the most attentive parent before and had completely stopped trying to be one after that.

Danny was 17 and Jazz was 19 when they woke up to a small note with an apology.

Jack moved away. He was in his late 40s, the Ghosts were never his biggest interest tbh, it was Maddie and he loved her and her interests to bits. Now that the driving force was gone he just saw no point.

He got back into Uni. Got a degree and started travelling to different sights.

There he met Janet Drake and the rest is history upto your interpretation.

Tim, when he becomes Robin, does a more thorough check of his family and finds out about the possibility that he might have siblings. Adult, independent siblings. He didn't know whether or not to reach out. If he even should. He found records of them searching for his father. Maybe they wouldn't at all be happy to learn about the fact that their dad had a whole new family...

[onlyjaeyun]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 – 𝟏𝟓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬

↬ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔, 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐉𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟒𝐤

↬ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐥'𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐄𝐎.

With a soft sigh, you close the chat with your closest friends, the soft jazz music finally making its way to your ears as you meet the gaze of your uber driver through his rear view mirror. A gentle expression grazes his eyes, as if he could sense your current state of struggle and somehow attempted to ease those thoughts and doubts.

But he doesn't actually know that you're on your way to your boss's penthouse apartment to bring him soup in hopes of winning his heart over or at least receive a single word of affirmation and praise from him.

And he actually can't read your mind or tell just how mean your brain's gotten these past few minutes, but all you do is smile back at him, wordlessly letting him know just how much you appreciate his concern.

You don't want to let your friends' words get to you, yet with every second you can't help but lose yourself in the worst case scenarios and actualy fear consume your body. The mere thought of your boss scolding you for doing something so unprofessional and inappropriate has an ice cold shiver find its way down your spine but before you get the chance to actually change your mind, the car comes to a halt.

Maybe it's the fact you grew up in a rather poor part of your hometown or maybe it's because you tend to forget just how rich Park Jongseong is, but either way you find yourself standing in front of his huge apartment building, wondering how one can actually afford living there.

Your eyes roam every little detail of it, only for your heart to skip a beat as soon as you realise that you simply can't enter the building without Jongseong letting you in first.

For a moment, you actually, genuinely consider going home and just throwing away every single part of your little plan, but the tiny little voice in the back of your head is loud enough to convince you to just pull through with it.

That's how you find yourself at the reception of Park Jongseong's apartment complex, something you believed to be a made up concept of rich people in movies and dramas, casually telling the woman in front of you who you've come for.

"Mr. Park Junior didn't tell me about any guests for tonight", the young lady says, her voice slightly condescending and as her eyes roam your body, you can't help but regret your choice of outfit. Maybe you should have dressed up a little more formally than your jeans-hoodie combination but at the end of the day you're pretty sure she would have judged you either way.

"He doesn't know about my visit", you say and try your best to hide how much her attitude intimidates you, "could you maybe tell him that Y/N's here to drop off something?"

"We don't just call Mr. Park Junior for random night time visits", yet again, the brunette makes sure to belittle you with just her tone and all you can do is sigh softly in response.

"I'll call him then." You don't even look at her as you turn around and pull your phone out, your bottom lip firmly tugged between your teeth as you try your best to stay calm.

Dialing your boss's number has never been easy ever since you've started working for him, yet this time you can actually feel your heart thrumming in your throat and the blood rushing in your ears as it rings.

It doesn't take longer than a few seconds for Jongseong to pick up your call; your number the only one besides his boys and his mother he's put on the list of exceptions when he's got his phone on 'do not disturb'.

He knows it's wrong but using the excuse of your new position as his personal assistant easily overshadows his actual intentions. Is he a bad boss because he wants to be available for you all the time? Or is it considered inappropriate? Either way, Jay simply can't get himself to care enough to overthink it.

After taking complete advantage of his first day off in months, Jay actually feels energetic enough to sit himself up, casually ignoring just how excited and nervous he is about the fact that you're calling him. He can't help but wonder if you've missed him, only to mentally slap himself for even allowing those thoughts to enter his head.

He's your boss, why the fuck would you miss him?

"Hello?" The soft sound of your pretty voice takes him aback and for a moment he actually feels dizzy again, yet quickly regains his composure.

"Yes, Y/N, how can I help you?" As he speaks, Jongseong genuinely hopes you can't hear the excitement wavering in his tone, too afraid you'd misinterpret his reaction to you.

"Misinterpret".

"I really hope this isn't inappropriate, Sir but I'm – uhm – in the lobby of your apartment building because I wanted to drop off some of the soup I made for you." The words just leave your mouth, too fast for your brain to get the chance to overthink any of them and you actually catch yourself holding your breath as you wait for his reaction.

After a whole beat of silence, Jay finally manages to somehow form a response.

"I'll call the receptionist", is all he says before he hangs up and you find yourself slightly overwhelmed, not ready to face the young woman behind you.

It doesn't take longer than a a handful of minutes for you to find yourself at at the door to your boss's penthouse.

You don't really know what you expected, especially considering that he explicitly mentioned his current physical state, yet the sight of The Park Company's CEO in a pair of grew sweats and a black shirt, glasses comfortably placed on his nose, a completely bare face and messy hair was probably not the sight you had imagined.

But it quickly becomes your absolute favorite version of him.

Seeing him in such a...comfortable state feels a little surreal after only ever having seen him in his suits and daily clothes in the few weeks you've been working for him.

Jongseong, on the other side, doesn't get enough time to actually hide how much your sudden and unexpected presence flusters him as a deep blush covers the apples of his cheeks as well as his nose and ears all the way down to his neck. A single impulsive thought rushes through his head, but he does manage to stop himself from slamming the door in your face and simply accepts his current situation.

"I know you told me not to do it but I love taking care of people and this is my standard Y/N-care package, which includes beef soup, kimbap and some cookies", you explain and look at him with big eyes, trying your best to stop yourself from letting your gaze drop to his slightly exposed chest, as a tiny little black line poking out underneath his shirt on his right side catches your attention.

Jay loves the way you look at him. He's had so many woman look at him like that, yet your gaze just seems different than theirs. You don't just look at him with bedroom eyes, no. Your pretty eyes are filled with adoration and this hunger he can't put a name on.

And at first Jong struggled to understand why he enjoys your gaze until that one particular day where the two of you went into a meeting together and you were hiding behind him when all of these business men suddenly started talking to you. It's the fact that you're actively seeking his presence because you feel protected and safe with him which makes your needy eyes so different from all the others.

You actually need and want him in more ways than just sexual and Jong's afraid that's exactly what's going to make staying away from you so, so much more difficult.

"Here you go", you say after a whole minute of silence, "I hope you feel better soon, Sir. Please don't rush yourself to get back to work, Mr. Lee is taking great care of the office and all your meetings and appointments have been rescheduled to next week already."

Your words somehow manage to calm his chaotic thoughts down. Jongseong hadn't even realised how much he had been worrying about work until you mentioned it. He definitely feels better than just a few hours ago but the mere thought of getting up tomorrow morning and going through all those meetings and paper work has shivers run down his back. Knowing you've got it all under control eases his mind to the point where he actually doesn't feel guilty about staying home one more day.

"Thank you so much, Y/N", your boss replies calmly and takes the bag from you, his hand touching yours for a single second and still managing to send shivers down your spine.

"You're welcome, Sir", you whisper, a little too shy when his eyes find yours again and all you can do is smile softly at him.

"Have a good night and get–", but Jongseong doesn't give you the opportunity to finish your sentence.

"Wait–", he says quickly, subconsciously reaching for your wrist but immediately stopping himself before his skin can touch yours.

"Yes, Mr. Park? Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Your willingness to satisfy his every need is going to drive him into absolute insanity. Jongseong knows it's because you work for him, yet for some reason he can't help but feel like it's actually because you genuinely want to and not because you get paid for it.

His therapist is going to have a field day during their next session.

"You came all this way to drop these off, why don't you come in and have some coffee with me?"

He didn't mean to invite you into his apartment because he knows just how unprofessional and inappropriate it is, yet he can't even deny how badly he wants you to spend some more time with him. Especially after you've decided to keep your distance to him the past week.

"Oh", you reply softly, desperately suppressing the big smile threatning to form on your face, "sure, that's really kind of you. I hope I'm not overstepping any bound-"

"You're not, Y/N. I promise. Please, come on in."

You can't help but be visibly surprised about being interrupted by your boss for the second time within a few minutes, something he's never done before to you or basically anyone he's galked to in your presence.

But without giving it too many thoughts, you walk past him into the big hallway of his apartment, your face quickly giving away just how impressed you are and for a moment you simply feel embarrassed for being so obvious.

You wordlessly follow your boss into the living room and then the kitchen, your eyes eagerly roaming the huge spaces as if your brain couldn't comprehend the fact that this is really how some people live on the daily.

After moving out from your tiny childhood home, you thought your new two bedroom apartment was big, maybe because it was the first time in your life where you didn't have to share a room or a bed, yet seeing the way your rich boss lives, you can't say you don't feel the tiniest bit envious.

"Your apartment is very pretty, Sir", you say quietly, a little intimidated by the whole situation and if it wasn't for the physical exhaustion, Jay would have wholly appreciated your compliment.

The sight of you in his penthouse is something he's imagined way too many times in the past few weeks and he has absolutely no idea why. Just the mental image of watching you do the most basic tasks in his home instead of your own has brought him the type of comfort he's been craving so desperately all his life, and that's how he knew he fucked up.

This wasn't meant to happen. You're his secretary and personal assistant, he can't and won't ever have you. But why can't he stop imagining you as such a prominent part in his life to the point where he actually manages to get his own hopes all the way up to the sky?

"Thank you, Y/N", he replies and as soon as you look up to meet his exhausted gaze, an expression of genuine worry washes over your face and before he can even overthink it, he watches the way you approach him.

The feeling of your hand on his forehead is definitely not the next thing he expected, yet the cooling sensation your touch comes with easily overwhelms him.

"Sir, you're running a fever again", you say and only realise that your hand has found its way to his cheek when he slowly moves into your touch, a sight so sweet and gentle, your brain quickly makes sure it's forever engraved in your memory.

You don't pull away right away, but rather slowly to make sure he knows you regret your subconscious decision but also not take away the comfort it probably comes with.

"Yeah, I feel a little tired again. I think the meds have started to wear off."

Upon his confession, you basically push him to lay down on the couch again, quickly cleaning up the little mess of tissues and empty water bottles before making your way to the kitchen to reheat some of the soup.

Jongseong feels his lids growing heavier by the minute, yet he'd never miss the opportunity to watch you in his kitchen. The fact you seem to fit in perfectly makes all of his worries even worse because why the fuck did it have to be like this?

It doesn't take you longer than five minutes to come back with a bowl of hot soup and a spoon, a water bottle firmly tugged underneath your arm as you come to sit next to his head.

"I know you also told me you didn't need any meds but uhm, my grandmother swears on these and every time I catch a cold they save me from the worst. But I do understand if you don't wanna take them."

Your voice calms his heart and soul, your words barely reaching his brain as his whole attention remains on the way you sound and never once in his life did he ever think he'd want someone to talk to him forever.

"That's very kind, thank you", Jong whispers and caughs softly, his usually tanned skin slightly paler than usual and you hate the way your heart aches at the sight of it.

"I'm also making you one of my grandmother's remedy teas, I promise you'll feel better in no time."

For some reason, the fact you're so casually telling him about your family again makes him happier than it should. But does it make him a bad boss if he wants to know more about you and your upbringing? You're spending so much time with each other after all, it's the least he should want, right?

"Your grandmother sounds like a wise woman", he says softly and slowly tries his best to sit himself up, every single limb hurting like he he run against a wall with full force and as soon as he reaches for the spoon, Jongseong actually has to take a break from moving so much.

"She was", you whisper and pull your bottom lip between your teeth, unsure whether or not to offer your help, "she was my best friend and the only person in my life who took such great care of me and everyone around her. I cherish her recipes and that's how I came up with my Y/N-care package."

Jongseong attentively listens to the things you tell him, something you genuinely appreciate when it comes to him because besides your best friend, you've never had anyone listen to every word you say with such focus, especially not a man.

You carefully watch the way he nods, his pretty lips pushed into a soft pout, big hands in his lap as he looks at you with tired eyes and with a soft sigh you finally give into your disgusting need to take care of him.

"May I feed you, Sir? I know I'm not being professional but–", "Please do, Y/N. I'd really appreciate it." Jong is quick to interrupt you, because if it wasn't for you initiating it, he would sit there waiting to gain enough physical strength for another twenty minutes.

He's never had anyone but his mother and sister take such sweet care of him and the fact you do it without any intentions makes this whole experience even more intimate than it's supposed to be.

As you reach for the spoon, Jay thinks of all the things he'd do for you if you let him, only for his conscience to slap him across the face because no matter what, at the end of the day you two would never work out. Not only because you're his employee and he's your boss but because he'd never forgive himself for pulling you into a life you couldn't handle. You're too soft, too gentle, your heart is too kind for the world he lives in. A world full of faux happiness and sincerity, where nothing is real, no smiles and laughter, no words and promises, no friendships and marriages. A world so dark, it'd kill the light in your soul within a few weeks, something Jongseong could never, ever forgive himself.

"Say 'ah'", you chuckle and lift the full spoon to his lips, your pretty lips stretched into a gentle smile and without hesitation, Jay bends a little over to take it into his mouth. The warmth as well as the comforting taste of the soup easily has his whole body slowly waking up.

"It's delicious", Jay says with raised brows, his eyes finding yours and the way his compliment so obviously flusters you manages to play with his thoughts and feelings yet again, "you're a great cook, Y/N."

You hate how much his words mean to you, but besides two words of appreciation, you can't get yourself to say anything else. For some reason this feels way more intimate than you expected but with each spoon, the urge to play with his hair and caress his back becomes more and more overwhelming.

All you want for him is to feel good and be okay, something you want for everyone in your life, so why do you want to do everything in your power to make it happen.

Your boss is a rich bachelor in his late twenties, who not only grew up with old money but probably won't ever know what it feels like to wonder if there'll be any food left for him and his siblings to eat the next day, but you still want to somehow be involved in his well-being.

"Tell me more about your grandmother", Jay suddenly asks and isn't really sure why he decided to bring things back to your family, but he simply can't hold back with his curiosity, especially after those few family issues you've mentioned to him.

He also doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable, but physically doesn't have enough energy to lead the conversation. On top of it all he's always been a better listener than a talker, especially when it comes to the people he cares about.

"Are you sure you wanna hear that? She's the only topic I can talk about for hours", you chuckle shyly and lift the spoon up to his face yet again, only for Jay to nod softly.

Upon his approval, you tell him about what it felt like to be raised by her as the only grandchild, how she spent most of her time showing you her recipes even after working long days at the market. You feel yourself getting more and more emotional as you slowly lose yourself in the memory of the only blood family member who always cared for and about you, the only one who didn't abandon you after the things your parents did.

And Jongseong just listens. He tries to save it all to his memory, your words, the stories, your grandmother's personality from your point of view, details about your childhood, the sight of your teary eyes when you come to the point where she passed away when you were sixteen years old.

Jongseong has never had any good relations with anyone in his family besides his mother and his older sister. Mostly because his father's side of the family is exactly like him, victims and servants of capitalism who have made money and financial success their only priority in life to the point where betrayal and lying has become part of their daily routines. His mother's family had decided to abandon her as soon as they found out about her pregnancy and despite their pathetic attempts of reconciliation, Jong has never allowed her to let them back into their lives. Not after everything they put her through.

Hearing about how you lived a whole life with this one particular woman makes him want to meet her. Jong knows that you probably have your soft heart and kind soul from her, and he can't help but wonder what kind of person she was.

"She sounds wonderful", he then suddenly comments and for some reason, you know those words come from his heart and all you can do is smile at him.

"Yeah", you whisper and gulp harshly when the tears suddenly prick at the corners of your eyes, "I miss her a lot."

Jay lets out a soft sigh of acknowledgment before he does something he knows he's going to regret but at this point he's jusg mentally tired of fighting his urges all the time.

With a gentle smile he reaches for your chin and lifts your head up to have you meet his gaze, his sudden touch eliciting a soft gasp from your parted lips and thankfully he manages to at least suppress the urge to just kiss you.

"I just know she's really proud of the beautiful, strong woman you've grown into", he whispers and then places his big hand on your cheek, his touch soft and gentle despite how rough his hands tend to look and you instinctively move further into his touch, the way he did just a half an hour ago.

"I know I am", Jay adds calmly and maybe it's the way you've been working so hard to take care of him or maybe it's all the built up frustration about your situation but no matter how much he tries to stop himself from saying them, he knows those next few words are nothing but the truth.

"I'm so proud of you, Y/N."

And those are the words which have you spiralling all the way back into your deepest feelings for him. You knew coming here and doing the thingds you just did weren't the smartest thing considering you've been trying to distance yourself from him, but never in a million years have you expected to hear such a genuine and sweet praise from him.

"T-Thank you so much, Sir", you whisper and shift your gaze to your hands in your lap, too embarrassed about just how flustered you are.

"Not for this", he calmly replies and probably has no idea what his words have done to you. Even if he knew, you know he'd never care enough for it to effect him.

To your luck, he's long finshed the soup so using the excuse to get his tea, you basically jump onto your feet and run into the kitchen, only to realise that you can't actually lose your shit because he can see you from his spot on the couch.

The following five minutes are filled with nothing but absolute silence and you can't hide how glad you are about it. The tension between the two of you has become unbearable and the urge to crawl onto his lap and never leave again is about to take over every other rational thought in your head.

"Thank you for taking such good care of me, Y/N", Jay says when you finally place the tea on the little coffee table in front of the couch, his eyes casually roaming your whole body and you're surprised how he doesn't even seem hesitant about it. Maybe it's the meds showing their effects or maybe the physical exhaustion, but regardless of the reason, you refuse to accept the possibility of his potential interest in or attraction to you.

"Of course, Sir", you reply calmly, "it's my pleasure."

"Have you been taking care of yourself as well? I know you haven't been feeling the best lately and I wouldn't want you to neglect yourself", Jay says and takes a sip from the sweet tea, his eyes focusing your reactions and he can't help but love just how much his words seem to effect you.

"Yes, Mr. Park", you say softly and smile at him, finally a little less anxious and excited as your body has managed to calm down from the high he'd put you in just a few minutes ago.

"Good girl."

Yet, those two little words basically shoot you all the way up to the milky way within just a single second.

Jongseong doesn't even realise what he just said, yet once he does, his eyes widen and he basically stops in his tracks.

Never once in your life have you expected him to say something so intimate and forbidden, but you physically can't get yourself to hide your reaction.

With a soft gasp, your head shoots up to look at him, hoping that you just misheard what he said but at the way your boss doesn't move a good minute, you know you heard exactly what you he said.

"I'm so – so sorry", Jay says once he regains his composure, his heart thrumming in his throat as the blood rushes in his ears and he actually feels a headache making its way into his brain.

"It's okay", your voice a mere whisper as you're aftaid for it to break if you spoke too loudly, "don't worry about it."

Maybe it's just a habit he has and maybe he just mistook you for someone else, someone who actually gets to hear those sweet words of praise every time he does what he needs to do to get rid of his frustration. That's it. It was just a slip up.

Park Jongseong would never think about praising you in such a manner if he wasn't actually physically sick, so there's absolutely no need for you to get your hopes up again.

"I didn't mean to – fuck – please, just forget about this, okay?"

All you can do is nod as you try to ignore the thick veil of tears that have already blurred your vision, not because of shame or embarrassment but because you know it really wasn nothing a stupid accident.

You hate yourself for wishing to hear it again, and again and again. All you want for him is to call you a good girl until it's engraved into your brain and you actually start believing it.

Jay carefully watches your reactions again and he can't believe the immense guilt he's feeling for having to retract his words knowing you probably needed that more than anything else. The way you seem genuinely disappointed about it has his heart aching in the worst way possible because fuck every single rule he's set for himself. You are a good girl. His good girl. So good, so obedient, so hardworking and so, so perfect. You're everything he's ever dreamed of in a woman, yet there's no way he can be what you need and deserve.

"Not because you aren't one", he suddenly says, not quite sure why he decided to but simply following his instincts, "but because it wasn't appropriate and I'm sorry about making you uncomfortable."

"It's okay, Mr. Park. I'm just – too easy", you basically laugh off the embarrassment and try your best to escape his strong gaze knowing he's going to see your tears if you let him.

"Y/N, look at me, please."

Of course Park Jongseong is too attentive to miss your actual reaction and since at this point your brain has decided to never, ever disobey him, you find yourself looking into his eyes the very next moment.

"We can't do this", he suddenly says and has your heart drop into your stomach, "not only is it super inappropriate and unprofessional but it's also not...right. I'm your boss, you're my employee and things would just get super messy if we acted on this tension between the two of us."

All you can do is nod because you can't quite understand that he just verbally rejected you, especially when you thought things couldn't have taken a wronger turn.

You hate how much youmre struggling to breath yet the knot in dour throat seems to double in its size with every second passing by and for a moment you're genuinely worried about passing out.

"Yes, Sir", is the only response you manage to whisper, too ashamed and embarrassed to say anything else.

"I wish I could be the man you need, but I'm not. And I won't ever be, so please, let's just forget about this and keep it going the way we did until today, okay?"

Yet again, not a single word leaves your lips, the fear of bursting into tears if you dared to say something too big.

"I think it's better if you leave now, I'm sorry."

And it's those words which manage to break his heart into thousands of pieces, but after seeing the way you reacted to his praise and the image of you standing in his kitchen like it's your own has given him false hopes he's not ready to deal with. He can't have you and no matter how much sending you away hurts him, Jay knows he has to do this for you to hate him. Even if you happened to quit your job after today, he'd rather have you be distant than give you the wrong idea.

"No, don't be. I'm sorry, Sir", you say and quickly get onto your feet, reaching for your phone on the coffee table and your jacket before quickly taking a few steps away from him.

Being so physically close to him feels like actual torture and all you want to do is go home and cry yourself to sleep. 

You never expected your hopes and little daydreams to be shattered like this, but you know you needed this and it's the only thing which could have brought you back to reality.

"I don't need the boxes I brought the food in, just keep them or throw them away. Please excuse my lack of professionalism tonight, Mr. Park. I promise it won't happen ever again. Have a good night and get well soon."

You don't even give him the chance to get on his feet as you basically turn around and run to the front door the second the last word of your apology leaves your lips and even if he wanted to follow and pull you into his arms, Jongseong just stays exactly where he is because there's no point in comforting you. He did what needed to be done and that's it.

Even if that means watching his good girl run away from him with tears streaming down her cheeks.

This pain is only temporary. You'll eventually get over him, you're so young after all. And once that day comes, you'll be grateful for escaping him and his love. Because Jongseong has always ruined the things he touched and the people he cared about. He'll make sure you won't ever be part of that list no matter how much it hurts his heart.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: here we go babies 👀 it's a little heartbreaking ngl and things will be a little angstier from now on but the spicy part's also around the corner so let's go!🤭 thank you so much for all the love and support, you guys are truly the best. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!!!🩷🧸)

TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @xrr-s4sha @kwiwin @heelcvr @deobitifull @kpoprhia @doodlelibrary @abrazosolorcereza @certifiedmoa @sleeping-demons @heerinnie @ohmy-moonlightx @heeswif3y @hoonieluv @fakeuwus @jjaeyuns @cheybabey @ineedsomezzz @super-amberlynn @kshoshi @tinie03 @soiimo @mimikittysblog @primroselover @heebrry @jebetwo @donghyckl @07myonlylove @enhamysunshines @quemirasboboandapaya @lostwonderwall @seuomo @enhaz1 @teawithbucky @beomgyusonlywife @dammit-jjk @lhsvibez @azurez @boutyouwonu @finchyyy @ocyeanicc @jaylaxies @glitterssim @in-somnias-world @zerasari @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @capri-cuntz @fluerz @3amstarlight

[eregyrn-falls-art]

And here it is, the video version of the "Trouble" Multi-Artist Lyric Comic! All the kudos in the world to @stariousfalls for editing this whole thing together!!!

Go here for the post with all of the lyric page art viewable separately. Go to the Trouble Lyric Comic tag on my main blog to see links to people's posts of their art.

Below the read-more, please find the credits, with tags/links to everyone's blogs!

And once again, huge thank you to everyone who participated in this project -- it was so much fun to work on! And special thanks to @mercury-falls for helping me to organize all of this! I'm still so jazzed to see this final product -- the "amv" to this song that I've been wanting to see since 2016, and here it is, and it's wonderful! And it's even MORE wonderful because this represents a LOT of people coming together to express and share their love for this show.

(Go here for some more extended thank-yous!)

CREDITS

Photo Collage One: Elishevart, Pinkplatiploo, Zephrunsimperium, Creativepup, Batman-gif, Fordtato (all newspaper clippings), Shadeartstuff, Skysdrawings

I’ve been a beggar: lemonfodrizzleart

And I’ve been a king: kingsofjersey

I’ve been a loner: muria-art

And I’ve worn the ring: everlight_283 (instagram)

Losing myself: batman-gif

Just to find me again: tazmiilly & gin-juice-tonic

I’m a million miles smarter: eregyrn-falls-art & stephreynaart

But I ain’t learned a thing: annakitsun3

I’ve been a teacher: gobblewanker

And a student of hurt: skysdrawings

I kept my word: orangephoenix6

For whatever that’s worth: mother-ofthe-universedraws

Never been last: jackyjackdraws

But I’ve never been first: jasmine-sketchbook

Oh I may not be the best: stephreynaart

But I’m far from the worst: spectralreplica

Oh I may not be the best: elishevart

But I’m far from the worst: zkyeline

Oh, I’ve seen trouble: fexiled

More than any man should bear: mischieflily

But I’ve seen enough joy: ginandshattereddreams

I’ve had more than my share: gin-juice-tonic

And I’m still not done: morcian-draws

I’m only halfway there: jamesfenimoreharper

I’m a million miles ahead of where I’m from: fordtato

But there’s still another million miles to come: deerpines, orangephoenix6 & fordtato

Photo Collage Two: Creativepup, Cbmagus49, Inkdrawndreamer, Bluefrostyy, Fordtato, Mother-ofthe-Universedraws, Fordtato & Jamesfenimoreharper, Shadeartstuff, AlphaZeD, Bewildred-grimsley

Oh I keep on searching for the City of Gold: vililae

So I’m gonna follow this yellow brick road: cbmagus49

Thinking that maybe it might lead me on: cutebatart

I’m a million miles farther: hellmandraws

And a long way from home: eregyrn-falls-art

I know that there’s a plan that goes way beyond mine: possumbreath

Got to step back just to see the design: pottersfieldcustodian

The mind fears the heart: rechoclo

But the heart doesn’t mind: novantinuum

Oh I may not be perfect: tazmiilly

But I’m loving this life: hubbabubbagumpop

Oh I may not be perfect: athgalla-arts

But I’m loving this life: thisiswhereidraw

Oh I’ve seen trouble: purblzart

More than any man should bear: shadowofaghost5

But I’ve seen enough joy: alextwdgf01 & fordtato

I’ve had more than my share: dragonsheepstudios

And I’m still not done: acetyzias & stephreynaart

I’m only halfway there: cryptidjeepers

I’m a million miles ahead of where I’m from: chiiroptereh

But there’s still another million miles to come: stephreynaart

Photo Collage Three: Cbmagus49, Fordsy, Puppylove, Lemonfodrizzleart, Jamesfenimoreharper, Gin-juice-tonic, Fordtato & Vililae, Rusted-blue, Sciencevillain, Mother-ofthe-Universedraws, Possumbreath, Shadowofaghost5, Pinestwinssimp, Nour386, Cutebatart, Possumbreath, Melodramaticwolf, Tazmiilly, Eregyrn-falls-art

[five-rivers]

Welcome Back Home

Phic Phight Fic for Avi!

Danny may have been a superhero.  He may have been annoying.  He may even have been ‘practically an adult.’  He was still Jazz’s little brother.  The one who had once begged her for play time and increasingly baffling milkshake combinations.  The one who helped her fight reanimated turkeys every Christmas.  The one who painstakingly researched what books to give her for her birthday.

So, it wasn't so much a choice to throw herself between him and her parents’ newest and most worrying weapon as it was a reflex.  If any thought crossed her mind while she dashed across the parking lot and into the path of the beam, it was either this is going to hurt or I hope I'm fast enough.

Well, it didn't hurt. It did drop her in the Ghost Zone. Immediately, She whirled, trying to find the portal.

Way back, when she and Danny had come clean about their respective secrets, Danny had sat her down for what he called his ‘Ghost Zone Survival Guide.’

“Okay,” he'd said, spinning in his spinny chair, “Ghost Zone survival, part one.  Don't go there.”

Tucker had snorted.  Jazz, who had taken out a fresh notebook and her special note-taking gel pens, glared at him.  

“I'm serious,” Danny had defended himself.  “The Zone isn't a good place for humans.”

“Why?”

“Do you want some reason other than it operating under different laws of physics and being full of super-powered people who don't care if they kill you by mistake?  The radiation, maybe?”

“Never mind.  Go ahead.”

“That's what I thought.  Anyway, if you wind up going through an unstable or temporary portal, the first thing you need to do is go back through that portal.  Like, forget about anything else that's going on.  Fights, escapes, your car, other people, get yourself back through.”

“That seems a bit callous,” Jazz had said.  

“Well, maybe.  But the Ghost Zone is huge, and natural portals and temporary portals aren't just unstable in space, they're unstable in time.”

“They could spit you out in my first life, the middle ages, a thousand years in the future, you name it,” Tucker had helpfully added.  

“First life?”

“Don't worry about it,” Danny had said.  

“Pharaonic Egypt,” Tucker had answered.  

“The point is,” Danny had continued loudly, “you don't want to take a chance with portals unless you know they're stable or have the Infi-Map.”

“Or time grandpa has your back.”

“Stop calling him that.”

“Who is–”

“It doesn't matter.  He doesn't have your back.  He doesn't have anyone's back.”

Tucker had made a noise of negation.  “He has your back.”

Danny had responded by beaning his friend with a pillow.  

Somehow, despite being genuinely informative, Jazz had come away from the ‘lesson’ With more questions than answers.  None of which were pertinent to her present situation.  

She turned on the spot again, surveying her surroundings in more detail.  It didn't help.  No matter which direction she turned in, there was no portal.  

So.  Step one: failed.  

Onto step two.  

“What if I can't get back through the portal though?” Jazz had asked.  

“Well, if you aren't being actively attacked–”

“You should definitely take care of that first if you are.”

“If you aren't under attack, see if you can spot any landmarks.  If you can see one, you'll at least have a general idea of where you are.  Mostly.”

“We're making a map,” Tucker had said, “but it sucks.”

“That's not a comment on our self-confidence or whatever,” Danny had said before Jazz could interject.  “Stuff moves in the Ghost Zone.  It's kind of like trying to make a map of the solar system.  If you're sitting on Jupiter, you know where the sun is, and you've got a pretty good idea about the inner planets, but unless you have a model you can put the time into, you're not going to have any idea where Pluto is.”

“And you wouldn't know the right time, either,” Jazz had said, contemplatively.  

“Exactly.  But landmarks are still good.  They'll give you your general area, at least.  And maybe what else is around, too.”  He'd given her a photo album full of Ghost Zone landmarks, then, and they'd spent the next half hour going through them.

Jazz was on a floating island.  It was medium-sized, perhaps a dozen or so acres square on this side, full of softly rolling hills covered with purple grass and pale green flowers.  As far as Jazz could tell, there wasn't anything else on it, although that didn't mean there wasn't.  It didn’t look like any place she'd seen or heard of.  

Offshore, the Zone was a moderately-familiar green-on-green.  Foggy ectoplasm and the lack of anything like a horizon made it difficult to judge distances.  

There were a few other islands Jazz could see.  Something like a mountain range, a floating sphere, and, just on the edge of her vision, a slightly more regular conglomeration of shapes that could have been a town.  

Bingo.  

“If you don't recognize anything, do your best to head towards civilization.”

Jazz had raised an eyebrow at that.  “Despite the super-powered people who don't care if I die?”

“She’s got you there, Danny my man.”

“Ugh, why couldn't Sam have been here?”

“Gasp, don't tell me you forgot the mega-ultra-turbo grounding already?  How could you?”

Danny had thrown another pillow at Tucker.  “You're so unhelpful.  Anyway, people are dangerous, but they're also the only place you're going to get directions.”

“And if I see something, how do I get there?  Considering everything is a flying island.”

“That’s a bit tricky.”

Jazz bounced on her the balls of her feet, staring down the green void between herself and her destination.  She’d never done this before, and despite Danny and Tucker’s attempts at an explanation, or even Sam’s later on…  Well, she felt like she should’ve convinced them to bring her to the Ghost Zone to practice.  

There was nothing she could do but try.  She closed her eyes and jumped into the air, believing she could fly with all her might.  Her feet hit the ground again.  Damn.  

One, two, three, she tried again, and again, and again, and then, finally, when she got mad, when she got frustrated, her feet left the ground and stayed off the ground.  She was flying, like only a human in the Ghost Zone could fly.  

She opened her eyes and looked over to the distant probably-town.  It was just as distant as before.  And now she was exhausted from jumping.  Both the jumping right now, and the jumping into the line of fire she’d done earlier.  

Well, no time like the present to get going.  She took off.  

The little details of Danny’s advice hadn’t stuck with her - he’d really waxed poetic - but she was still able to move forward.  She also spent a lot of time moving down whenever her concentration slipped.  Of course, she knew it wasn’t really down, thanks to those same conversations with Danny.  It was just the direction she perceived as down, or something like that.  

Danny liked flying like this.  Danny liked every method of flying to ever exist.  Jazz, personally, hated it.  A lot.  Every minute that passed, every time she slipped, she was terrified that she would go plunging into the murky depths of the Zone, never to be seen again.  

Danny hadn’t been wrong about the Ghost Zone not being good for humans.  

Thank goodness the town really was a town.  She wasn’t sure what she would have done if it wasn’t.  

“If I do get to civilization–”

“--or what passes for it–” Tucker had said.  

“--what do I do then?  Be polite, I assume, but what’s polite for ghosts?  What are the cultural touchstones?  The social norms?”

“Dunno,” Danny had said.  “It’s not like ghosts are just one big group that’s all the same.  But if you get to a group of ghosts, like, I don’t know a village or something, they’ll all probably be fairly tolerant.  To live together without fighting, you know?  Normal politeness will be fine.  Probably.  Assuming they can speak English.”

She managed a landing at the edge of the town.  She hit too hard, and her knees buckled.  A few ghosts stopped what they were doing - she didn’t know what, couldn’t spare the attention while flying - to stare at her.  With an effort she smiled at them.  Closed lips.  Many cultures considered smiles with teeth to be aggressive or rude.  

“Hi,” she said.  “I was wondering if you could help me.”

“Kio?  Kio ŝi diris?”

“Mi ne scias, mi ne parolas la francan.”

Ah.  She should’ve taken up Tucker’s offer to teach her some basic Esperanto.  Danny was never going to let her live this down.  

“Okay, so, what do I do if they don’t speak English?” she’d asked.  

“Get good at charades?  You probably won’t be able to get good directions without speaking the language - I have no idea how you’d do the portal in charades - but you can trade stuff.  Bargain, barter, whatever you want to call it.”

“For food?  Supplies?”

“Eh, not food, actually.  Ghost Zone food is mostly ectoplasm.  Not good for humans.”

“Then what?  Well, you’ll think it’s crazy, but…”

Somehow or another, she got the idea of marketplace and trade across to the ghosts.  Apparently the Esperanto word was related to the English.  Cousins.  Brothers.  Whatever, it didn’t matter.  

What did matter was what she was going to trade to the ghosts.  All she had was her purse, and for a teenage girl, she traveled light.  She had her wallet, parking change, a small handful of coupons, number two pencils, a pencil sharpener, a pen, various hygiene products, lipstick, laser, lipstick laser, sunscreen, the universal pocket psychology guide, granola bars, a screwdriver, a couple of bolts from the Peeler - if only she kept that in her purse - spiked bracelet from Spike, phone, and, okay, she didn’t pack that light.  There should be something in all this that the ghosts here would probably like.

The ghosts who had seen her less-than-stellar landing ushered her to a colorful, cloth-covered stall, the contents of which looked like the detritus of a million flea markets.  The ghost… manning it?  Ghosting it?  Haunting it?  What was the terminology in this case?  Whatever.  The ghost at the stall was pale green and nondescript except for the swathes of polka-dotted cloth wrapped around their body.  

They stared at her with wide eyes.  “Ĉu tio estas homo?  Viva homo?”

She smiled, forcefully.  That didn’t sound like a hello, but she’d take it.  “Hello,” she said.  “Do you have any boxes?”  She made the shape of a box with her hands.  

“The Box Ghost?  You’re saying that if I can’t get directions, my next step is to try to summon the Box Ghost?”

“Hey, believe it or not I’ve got an agreement with a lot of the regulars.  If they bring back lost humans, they get, um.  A nonlethal free day.  In Amity Park.  I can get you a list.  And even if you end up in a weird time, like, before I made the deal or something, the Box Ghost is pretty easy.  Worst case scenario, you can even let Walker catch you.  He always sends humans back.”

Jazz sat on the edge of the town, a cardboard box in hand, purse lighter by a novelty pencil sharpener and the spare screws and bolts.  “Oh, great and powerful and completely terrifying Box Ghost,” she said, feeling ridiculous.  “I have an offering for your awful, terribleness.  It’s cubical and cardboard-ical.  Cardboard.  Whatever.”  She sighed.  “This isn’t going to work, is it?”

“DID SOMEONE CALL UPON THE FRIGHTENING AND FRIGHTFUL BOX GHOST, MASTER OF RECTANGULAR CARDBOARD PACKAGES?”

Jazz shrieked and almost fell off the island.  

The Box Ghost blinked down at her.  “Beware?” he said.

“Hi,” said Jazz.  “A gift?”  She held up the box.  

“THE CARDBOARD IS MINE!”  He leaped on the box and held it to his chest like a baby.  “What do you want from the HORRIFYING BOX GHOST?”

“So, uh, I know you have a deal with my brother?”

“WHOMST?”

“My brother,” repeated Jazz.  “Danny.  Phantom?”

The Box Ghost stared at her blankly.  

“To get humans back to Amity Park?”

“THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT KNOW THE REALM OF WHICH YOU SPEAK?”

That wasn’t good.  The opposite, really.  If the Box Ghost didn’t recognize Danny’s name…

“What if I am in the past?” Jazz had asked.

“Get back to Earth anyway, and survive.  Find a way to get a message to the present.  Between the Infi-Map and, um, other contacts I have–”

“Time grandpa,” Tucker interjected.  

“I should be able to go get you if I know where and when you are.  But I need to know when and where you are.”

Then, Jazz had asked why he couldn't just pick her up at the exact moment she'd arrived, if he was going to time travel anyway, and that had spurred a migrane-inducing argument about paradoxes.  Jazz had gotten the impression that the real reason was more along the lines of ‘Danny isn’t allowed to have any more paradoxes’ than ‘the universe won't let paradoxes exist.’

Jazz smiled thinly.  “Can you get me to Earth?” she asked.  “Please?  It’ll be worth your while.”

“Worth the while of the GREAT BOX GHOST?”

“Yep.  It might take a while, but you’ll get more of those.”  She nodded towards the box in the ghost’s arms.  “Consider it an investment in future, um, fear.”

“FEAR?”

“Yes.  As in, um, fear me?”

“No, you shall FEAR ME!”

“Exactly,” said Jazz.  “Just like that.  Can you do it?  Or… is it beyond the powers of even the Box Ghost?”

“NOTHING IS BEYOND THE BOX GHOST!  I AM EXTREME IN EVERY WAY!  THE BOX GHOST WILL SHOW THE STRANGE GIRL WITH GIFTS THE WAY TO HIS SECRET PORTAL!”

At least something was going right.  “Thanks,” Jazz said.  “That sounds great.  I really appreciate it.  Where is it?”

“FOLLOW ME!”  The Box Ghost paused.  “AND FEAR ME!”

He flew off, and Jazz struggled to keep up.  Luckily, the Box Ghost was courteous enough to stop for her every once in a while.  The flight seemed to go on forever, but, eventually, they came to a stop in front of a twisting, spluttering portal.  

“Does this really lead to the Earth?” Jazz asked.  

“THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT LIE!”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to imply that.  It’s just… is it always so sparky?”

“IT IS UNSTABLE!  ONLY THE BOX GHOST IS BRAVE ENOUGH TO USE IT!”

Which meant that it could spit her out anywhere, at any time.  But at least she’d be on Earth, AKA somewhere she could eat the food and drink the water.  

“It doesn’t come out above an ocean, does it?”

“THERE ARE NO BOXES IN THE OCEAN.  THE BOX GHOST HAS NO USE FOR IT.”

“What about crab pots?” asked Jazz.

“THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT INTERFERE WITH THE COUNCILS OF CRABS.”

Jazz… wasn’t going to examine that too closely.  She braced herself and flew into the portal.  The transition this time wasn’t the smooth, blink-and-you’re-in-another-dimension it had been with her parents’ weapon.  It had turbulence, and lots of it.  It was like being in a washing machine.  Or a blender.  A really fast blender.  One that pulsed and shook and sang a song while it was at it.  

It spit her out ten feet above ground.  It wouldn’t have been a problem for a ghost, but for a human…  Well, at least she didn’t break any bones.  Instead, she laid, winded, on the ground.  Tall grass framed her vision on all sides.  The sun was hot overhead.  Which was… less than ideal.  It had been Autumn this morning.  However long from now that was.  

Jazz rubbed her temples.  All she had to do was send a message, satisfy Danny’s no-paradox rule, and then she’d be home.  Until then, she would survive.  She refused to saddle Danny with the guilt associated with her disappearing.  

She got up.  Looked around.  There was a dirt road.  She staggered over to it and flipped a coin to decide whether to go left or right.  Left it was.  

She grew steadier as she walked, but the heat was punishing.  She took off her sweater and was tempted to take her shirt off, too.  She was wearing a sports bra underneath.  It wasn’t like it’d be indecent.  

Unless she’d been dropped into the eighteen hundreds.  Best not to risk it.  

The dirt road became gravel, became poorly-paved asphalt, merged onto another, bigger road… A road with a recognizable name.  Jazz wasn’t that far away from Amity Park.  She could probably even call… home…

“I’m stupid,” she said out loud.  She pulled out her phone.  No service.  Typical.  She kept walking.  And walking.  And walking.  

And then she saw the smoke.  Right where Amity Park should be.  She ran, then.  

She crested the hill, passed the Welcome to Amity Park sign - something was off about it, but she didn’t stop to try and see what it was.  She hit the top of the next hill and stopped.  

That– That wasn’t Amity Park.  At least, it wasn’t her Amity Park.  The buildings were bigger.  Shinier.  Whiter, even.  The logo for the GIW sat proudly on one of the tallest ones.

And so many of them were smashed.  Burning.  Green blurs swirled and fought with white ones.  She sat down.

“And what if I wind up in the future instead?”

“I don't know, hope the rest of us don't cause the apocalypse before you get back?”

There was one more explosion, and then a high-pitched wail, a ghostly wail, threw all of the shapes back and away.  The white ones didn’t come back.  

Jazz… wasn’t sure what to do.  She watched.  She waited.  

And then a familiar shape appeared out of the air in front of her.  It was Danny, but… not.  He was thinner.  Sharper.  There was silver and ice in his hair, and blood and ectoplasm on his face.  “Hi, Jazz,” he said, smiling sheepishly despite the dark gleam in his eyes.  “Well… it isn’t the apocalypse, so…”  He spread his hands to either side, and the GIW building behind him fell over.  “Welcome home?”