#'any good suggestions today old man?' daniel asks

[desertfangs]

Items in the Suggestion Box at Court that Marius will definitely pretend he did not see: • Night Club Blood Rave like in Blade • Talent Show • Vampire Baseball

[ghostwnby]

Crashing Tides

Authors note: So remember about 3 or 4 ish months ago I said I was working on a surfer shop worker!Daniel + moody rich 19 year old!Max age gap romance fic? Well, surprise! After a billion years the first part of it is finally here. I'm not 100% happy with it but I decided to finally just say fuck it and bite the bullet with it. I am hoping to write more in the future about this au but in the meantime if you have any suggestions or ideas about this au please feel free to share them with me :) my asks are always open <3 otherwise, I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: language

Word count: 2,029 (2k)

----

The warmth of the Australian sun beats down harshly on Daniel’s skin as he tries his best to dodge and weave through the crowded boardwalk, not wanting to run anyone over with his bike. He wipes the layer of sweat that had gathered on his forehead off on the back of his hand, cringing slightly at the sheer amount of it. 

He silently regrets not taking a shower before leaving the house, but at this rate, with the amount of people blocking his way, he was going to be late.

Damn tourists. 

He can hear his boss, Mark, now: "Look, who finally decided to show up! I’m glad you think this company runs on your schedule.” He rolls his eyes at the mental image of the older Australian man passive-aggressively scolding him. You would think a person who owns a beachside surf shop would be more laid-back, but no. Ever since his wife left him last summer, his boss has been nothing but a crotchety old man. And trust me, Daniel has tried many times to invite him out to bars to be his wingman for the night, but every time he offers, he gets immediately shut down and scolded for even offering. 

Sorry, he was just trying to be a good co-worker and get his boss some stress relief in the form of a one-night stand with a beautiful lady. 

Pulling up to the shop, Daniel rushes off his bike, hastily reaching into his bag to grab his bike lock and securing it to the pole near the side of the building. Once secure, he practically bolts into the front entrance of the shop, accidentally slamming the door open a bit too hard for his liking, causing a few customers and his coworker, Lando, to perk their heads up and look in his direction. 

“I know. I know. But technically, I’m early. I still have a minute until I’m supposed to be here.” Daniel says matter-of-factly, shining a bright smile at the younger man as he walks up to the front counter that his co-worker is lounging lazily against. 

“You're cutting it close, mate.” Lando comments as he glances up at the shark-themed clock on the wall. (What? His boss might be an ass, but at least he’s an ass with good taste.) 

10:59 am

Lando shakes his head. “I don’t know if you want to push your luck too much. Mark is in a pissy mood today.” He explains.

Daniel rolls his eyes. “When is he not?”

Lando glances over his shoulder, making sure the door to the manager’s office is shut before whispering, “I don't know, mate; he seems grouchier than normal. Like something’s really ticked him off.” 

Daniel raises an eyebrow at the younger man. He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, the door of the manager’s office slams open, revealing his boss on the other side.

“Speak of the devil.” Lando whispers as both of the men straighten back up as their boss steps out of his office. 

"Daniel, I'm so glad you finally decided to join us for your shift that you were scheduled for.” Mark greets, scowling at him.

“Good morning to you too, Mark.” Daniel says, not bothering to hide the sarcasm that coats his words. The older man scoffs at him, rolling his eyes in a way Daniel can only describe as Oscar-worthy with how dramatic it was. 

“Whatever. It’s not like I have been waiting for you all morning to get your lazy ass here.” Mark hisses, motioning his hand to the shark clock on the wall. 11:00 am. Daniel has to repress the urge to roll his eyes. He’s been there for less than 2 minutes, and he’s already having to deal with Mark’s bullshit. That has to be a new record. 

"Sorry, I wasn’t here earlier. Emily decided to have a breakdown this morning about having to stay with my parents for the day.” Daniel explains half-heartedly, knowing no matter what explanation or excuse he gives the older man, he’s not going to be pleased either way.

“Well, maybe you should invest in some parenting classes then since you aren’t doing a great job at controlling your kid.” Mark sneers, “You know what? Never mind, I don’t care at this point.” 

Daniel can feel his frustration growing by the second. Honestly can’t he just back off? He’s here, isn’t he? It’s not like he’s one of the only workers there, besides Lando, who does his job. If it wasn’t for the fact that the pay was nice, Daniel would have been out of there the second Mark started acting this way last summer. Plus he’s been working at the surf shop for almost 5 years now and what has he gotten for it? Nothing except for the temporary title of shift lead whenever Mark isn’t there. 

As if he can sense the tension in the air between the two older men, Lando decides to speak up. 

“Oh uh..by the way, Mark, this dude called earlier. I think he said his name was Jos? He said his son would be here around 11:30.” 

Lando and Daniel both watch as Mark inhales deeply as if Lando’s words were the most aggravating thing he has ever heard. 

“That brings me to my next point. A friend of my old man asked me to hire his son for the summer while they are vacationing here.” Mark explains. Daniel and Lando share a confused look. Mark continues, “The reason why? I have no clue. Something about how he wants his son to learn what the real world is like even though his pocket money is more than what we all make in a year combined.” 

Daniel raises an eyebrow at him, “And you just agreed? Just like that? Who’s going to train him?”

Mark smirks devilishly, “Well that’s where you come in Daniel.” 

“What do you mean ‘that’s where I come in’?”

“Well, you are always complaining that you’ve been here the longest and still haven’t gotten any type of raise or promotion. Well here you go, I’m promoting you to training associate. You are in charge of training the kid and also keeping an eye on him and making sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.” 

Daniel can’t help but feel the heat of anger from earlier rise beneath his skin. “So you expect me to not only train this kid I’ve never even met but also babysit the little brat as well? What the hell do you think I am? A damn babysitter?!” He snaps, crossing his arms and scowling at the older man. 

“I’m nineteen. I don’t need a babysitter.”

All three of the men snap their heads back towards the front door, only to see, who Daniel presumes is the kid Mark was mentioning, standing in the entryway. Daniel blinks as he tries to take in the teen’s appearance. He doesn’t look like any nineteen-year-old Daniel has ever seen. Sure, he has semi-smooth skin, with a blemish here and there, and an overall youthful glow about him but for some reason, something’s off about him. Maybe it’s the way his shoulders are a bit broader than his own or how his jaw is a bit too sharp for Daniel’s liking. Either way, he doesn’t like it.

“Max! I didn’t expect you to be here so soon! Is it 11:30 already?” 

Daniel glances at the clock on the wall. 11:09 am.

The teen trudges over to the front counter where the others are standing and crosses his arms. “My dad said I should show up early just in case you guys were busy or something. But, by the looks of it, you aren’t and are instead talking bad about me behind my back.” Max explains, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice. 

Daniel looks over at the teen, studying his face more intently now that he is standing next to him instead of a few feet away at the door. His brow is furrowed. His pale skin is tinted with a shade of pink from the harsh Australian sun. There is a collection of freckles that are scattered across his jawline and up to the middle of his cheek, with a single one lying on his upper lip. He notices now that the teen is just a bit taller than him. Not by much but enough to make Daniel even more wary than he was before. 

Mark shakes his head, “Please forgive my employee, Daniel, here Max. He has had a bit of a rough morning so his mood isn’t the best right now.” 

‘The only reason why I have had a rough morning is because of you jackass.’ Daniel thinks to himself as he shoots a glare at his boss. 

Max rolls his eyes, “Whatever.”

Daniel and Lando exchange glances once again, as if to telepathically ask each other if this is what they are really going to have to deal with for the next two and half months. 

The sound of Mark clearing his throat makes the two of them look up towards their boss. 

“Anyway, as I was saying. My employee, Daniel here, will be in charge of training you and just overall making sure you're settling in here nicely.” Mark explains, clearly trying to skip over the part where Daniel called Max a brat that he has to babysit. 

Daniel shifts his eyes over to the teen next to him. Max doesn’t look impressed. He still has his arms crossed and his lips have formed a tight line of annoyance. Honestly, Daniel can’t blame him. If he was in his shoes, aka if he was a rich kid who probably hasn’t worked a day in his life and his parents suddenly made him get a job at a dingy old surf shop while they were on a  summer vacation, he would be pissed too. 

There is a beat of awkward silence that fills the air between the four. 

“I’m guessing this is the part where I introduce myself?” Lando chuckles awkwardly, drawing the other’s attention to himself. Max stares at him silently, as if he is waiting for the other to say something else that will ultimately aggravate him even more. 

“I’m Lando. I started working here about a year and a half ago. I go to the university just up the street. I usually work in the mornings because I have night classes.” He explains. Max doesn’t say anything, instead, he sighs, uninterested. 

Lando scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uh..When I’m not working or in class you can usually find me in my dorm playing video games.” The mention of video games makes the teen’s ears perk up with interest.

“You play video games?” Max asks in a slightly less annoyed voice than before.

“Yeah! I play all sorts of games like GTA, God of War, and F123. I actually stream my gameplay on Twitch with my friends from time to time. You should join sometime. I bet it would be really fun.” 

Daniel doesn’t know if it’s the heat getting to him or what but he swears he sees the faintest hint of a smile on Max’s face when Lando mentions him joining him in a gaming session. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

Seemingly pleased with the exchange, Mark claps his hands together like a coach trying to round up his team for a debriefing after a game. “Alright, now that introductions are out of the way, Max, how would you like to follow Daniel around for today to get a feel of the environment and how things work around here?” 

Daniel can feel the teen’s eyes on him before he even turns his head. His stare is as cold as ice and Daniel worries that if the teen doesn’t look away, he might burn a hole through his head. 

The universe must have been on his side because just as Daniel thought he would never look away, Max shifts his eyes toward Mark. The stare he gives Mark is just as cold. 

“Whatever.” 

“Perfect. Now let’s get started.”

[mas-o-kissed]

(FROM THE IMPCO ARCHIVES, IT’S PART 1 OF AN EPISODE OF BRAINDRAIN.

CW: hypnotic intox, dubcon hypno, public humiliation, kidnapping)

It’s the middle of the night, and your television flickers. There’s a static haze, a soft droning. As the picture comes into focus, a jaunty, old fashioned tune plays over the title card:

BRAINDRAIN

with Imp

Camera slowly zooms in on a small, effeminate man, grinning at the camera. A lower third tells you that his name is Imp. The image is hazy, as if it’s an old broadcast, but you could swear he has horns and a devil’s tail. Are those fangs? What is this show?

“Good evening, Impsomniacs! It’s 3 o’clock, and you know what that means. It’s time for your favorite game show: BRAINDRAIN.”

The camera follows as Imp walks across the set.

“Now, I’ve been hosting this show for many years. It’s been so long, we don’t even remember that far back! The before times, the long long ago, it all fades into nothing, like a dark void at the center of my mind, and no matter how hard I try to remember, it’s like we’re filled with this emptiness. It’s frightening, but it’s exciting at the same time. Like, what even is hiding in that dark space? Is it better if we never find out? This guy knows what I’m talking about!”

Imp points lightheartedly at an audience member, who appears to be asleep. AUDIENCE LAUGHS.

“HA! Haha. Yes.” (Stage whisper, into his headset) “Get that guy out of here. He’s too far gone to laugh at any of my jokes.”

The audience member is swiftly carted away.

“We have a very special player on our show tonight. You might recognize him from such places as snooping around Impco at 6am, or the holding room where we keep all of our prisoner— I mean contestants.”

Curtains move aside to reveal a man chained to a podium by his neck and hands. There is a gag in his mouth. He struggles against the binding. The messy scrawl on his name card says: “POSTMAN (ALLEGEDLY)”

“Usually I’m not up so early in the morning, but today I was woken up by a terrible horn-ache, and that’s when I found contestant number one poking around the facility. What do you have to say for yourself, contestant?”

Imp removes the gag from the man’s mouth.

“I was delivering a package, you lunatic!”

“Oh? Really? And what was in this package?”

“That tie! You’re wearing it right now!”

Imp looks down at the tie around his neck.

“HA! Hahaha! Oh darling, I sure wish I believed you. But you see, we’ve already downloaded dozens of fun triggers directly into your brain. It would be such a shame to waste them. Not only that, but our audience is just aching to see what’s going to happen to you. They’re ravenous. Like dogs. Isn’t that right, folks?”

APPLAUSE AND BARKING.

The man continues to struggle.

“Now, I think we all know the rules by now, but because I’m so nice, I’ll explain how the game is played.

I spin the wheel of post-hypnotic suggestions (we’re still coming up with a snappier name for it).

Whatever it lands on is the trigger I’ll use before I ask you a question.

Will you have to answer a complicated math problem after having your IQ reduced by 30 points? Will I make you into my puppet and then ask you to grab something just out of reach? Will it be a mysterious third thing?

You don’t know! And neither do I! That’s what makes the game so fun. Are you ready to play, Luke?”

“Let me go! M-my name’s not even Luke. It’s Daniel.”

“GREAT! Time to spin the wheel of post-hypnotic suggestions. Ooooooh!”

Imp spins the large, multicolored wheel. In each color is a different image, indicating a different trigger. As the wheel spins, Imp’s eyelids start fluttering. He watches it, half-lidded, a blank look on his face. The wheel has stopped spinning. Five seconds pass. An Imptern in a black t-shirt and headset rushes onto the stage. She snaps her fingers in front of Imp’s face.

“Bwuh.. wha..?”

She hurriedly whispers, “Sir, you know you’re not supposed to look directly at the wheel.”

“It’s my show. I can look wherever I want.”

“You were just zoning out, again!”

“You know I can’t be effected by hypnosis, doll. Now, get off the stage, I’m trying to do a show.”

She rushes off. TEPID AUDIENCE LAUGHTER. Imp gestures to the wheel, which has landed on a drawing of a bottle.

“Oh, a classic! Are you ready for the trigger, darling?”

“P-please don’t, I-I…”

“Hmm, stuttering and slurring like that. Oh dear… How much have you had to drink?”

The contestant’s eyelids flutter. He looks confused. His cheeks flush.

“Whas… happening?”

“You heard me. How much have you had to drink?”

“I’ve haven’t had… anything. I… I feel…”

The contestant giggles, clearly drunk. AUDIENCE LAUGHS.

“Uh oh, I think he’s had a bit too much.”

“I don… nunderstand. I didn’t think it wass real but I ffeel…”

“Didn’t think what was real? Hypnosis? Brainwashing? If that was true, we’d all be out of the job! HA! Ohh, you poor thing, you look like you’re going to be sick. Are you ready for your test, darling?”

“Fffuck.”

“No swearing dear, we’re on LIVE TV! Considering your pitiful state, I’ll keep it simple. Your question is: If one doctor doctors another doctor, does the doctor who doctors the doctor doctor the doctor the way the doctor he is doctoring doctors? Or does he doctor the doctor the way the doctor who doctors doctors?

“I… wh… what?”

“I’m sorry, that’s wrong. I don’t know what the answer is, but I know that that’s definitely not it.”

“Youu asked me a trick queshtion! Ompurpose! How’m I supposed to answer something like… that…? Shit… the room wontstop spinn..ninng…”

“Easy there, tiger. It’s time for a quick commercial break, but don’t you fret. We’ll be back to seal our dear contestant’s fate after this! (BUY IMPCO PRODUCTS!)”

There’s a commercial for Impco brand hypno-goggles. You’re not sure what hypno-goggles are, or what you’re even watching. But that Imp seems so nice. And he said to buy Impco products. So maybe you should…

(Decided to break this up with the commercials since it’s long but part 2 is coming soon! When I post it I will link it here.)

[mollykeaneyviscom]

Oded Ezer Workshop - Day Two

Exceptional Concept Exercise

choose one type of project from the options provided

develop concept proposal for the chosen type of project, using the basic steps demonstrated

think of a possible unique product that will be the outcome of such a project

here your ideas with other students to get their feedback and improve your proposal

find 1-3 related projects or references, that will help you to explain your ideas to others

When we started todays exercise I was more immediately drawn to option number four: Revival Project

When thinking of a revival project the immediate and obvious choice that comes to mind is a typeface revival. While this is a good option I have no immediate thoughts which come to mind and I don’t think this type of project would excite me enough. So I started thinking about what else I could revive or what could be considered a revival project.

Once again in his formulas Oded asked us for the field in which we specialise most so I decided to use this as a basic starting point. If type designers revive typefaces or create a typeface derived from old styles and outdated techniques, could this be translated into another medium. My area of interest is animation so I started thinking about how I could revive early animations or play with old animation techniques. I am not an illustrator and obviously originally animations were all hand drawn frame by frame, so instead my mind went to thinking about how I could revive, use or update old animation machinery/technology:

https://www.itsnicethat.com/articles/daniel-stankler-animation-160919

https://www.itsnicethat.vcom/news/mobile-studio-architects-kanazawa-flipbook-product-design-300321 I then thought about what else I could revive, or bring new life to in a broader context. Something that sprung to mind was the number of amazing older songs which, for whatever reason, don’t have music videos. Songs have a story build into them, or a potential narrative which could be open to interpretation, so I thought it could be interesting to take an old song and create a music video for it now as a way to give in new life and highlight meaning. This reminded me of Elton Johns competition the cut, where he challenged filmmakers to create the official music videos for Rocket Man, Tiny Dancer, and Bennie and the Jets. This was a way of getting a younger audience to engage with his music:

I also wondered if I could find a way to revive Ancient Greek mythology stories. I studied classical civilisation in school so I have a fair amount of knowledge surrounding this subject. I feel like Greek Mythology is a really fun convergence of history and fiction which interests and engages a lot of people but there’s not a lot of ways of find out about it beyond personal research and reading these old stories from incredibly long books such as the odyssey.

Obviously Oded wants us to work in the field of design in which we specialise most which for me is animation and motion, so I began thinking about how I could translate Greek mythology and tell these stories through animation. When I spoke to Oded about this he suggested taking inspiration/animating in the art styles of this time, such as the white sculptures:

These are my references for the style of animations I like and felt could work for this idea:

I wasn’t particularly excited about any of these ideas at this stage of the day. When considering the music video idea however I thought of something that might actually work better for project type number five: Visual Research Project

When I was thinking about artists and songs I could use I thought about Sleeping At Last’s album Enneagram, which is 9 songs based on the 9 Enneagram personality types. I could research into the 9 personality types and create a visual language for each. Using this I could then create an animated music video for each of the songs.

Overall I would say I struggled more with this day, I wasn’t coming up with as many interesting ideas I was excited about for these project starting points.

[f1united]

Zoo - DR3 Imagine

Daniel Ricciardo Imagine

Summary: You and Daniel are having a family day and talk about the future :)

Word Count: 2.9k

Please let me know if you have any f1 requests, I am more than happy to write anything for you!

As much as you loved watching Daniel race, you were grateful that you were able to spend some time with him now the season had ended. Although you were lucky enough to attend many races, your work schedule wouldn’t always allow it and you also wanted to still have time on the weekends to catch up with your friends and family.

You’d decided to spend this Christmas in Australia, it was your first away from home, but you were loving the warm weather and seeing a bit more of Daniel’s family. You had met them plenty of times now and were so thankful for how well you got on with them. It was late last night that Daniel had climbed into bed with you, he had been out seeing some of his old friends, leaving you to have the house to yourself that evening.

You loved spending time with Daniel, but it was nice to have some alone time after the busy race weekend. You had a nice long bath and a mini pamper session before painting your nails in front of the tv. You were so tired that you can barely remember him coming home, only noticing when the bed dipped beside you as he pulled you close to his chest.

Your early night may have been the reason you woke up so early the next morning. You weren’t really a morning person but had got a bit better at it over the years. Daniel’s family were coming over for breakfast and then the plan was to go to the local zoo. His nephew loved animals and when you had suggested the idea everyone couldn’t see why not, plus you hadn’t been to a zoo outside the UK and wanted to see if it was any different.

You rolled out of bed and into the shower. Your shoulders relaxed as the warm water hit your skin. It wasn’t as nice as the heat from Daniel’s body, but then you didn’t think anything could ever beat that. You stepped from the shower onto the fluffy bathmat, quickly wrapping yourself in a towel to dry yourself off. You walked into the dressing room opposite the bedroom and slipped on a nice summer dress. You rummaged through the drawers to find some nude underwear that would be discreet under the light colour of the dress but were unsuccessful, realising they must be in the utility room drying with the clothes you had washed yesterday. You placed your towel in the wash basket and made your way downstairs.

The view from Daniel’s kitchen was beautiful, the white rectangular island stretched for metres and looked across to the dining table and lounge area where you’d often have company. The folding glass doors separated you from a huge garden, some of his nephew’s toys were littered around the patio from when he’d last visited and the paving stones drew your eyes towards the pool.

You were lucky to have met Daniel, it had always been you dream to work in Formula 1 and you were beyond grateful to have had the chance to join McLaren in your early 20’s. Of course you knew who Daniel was, and he grew to know who you were. Working mainly at the office in the UK, you didn’t often see him to begin with. You weren’t too annoyed about it, as you fancied the pants off him and found it hard not to blush anytime he even looked in your direction. Your team was more in the background, didn’t attend races and just focused on the work at hand so when a few of your team members began getting invites you were slightly confused. You’d spoken to Zac Brown about it, he had interviewed you for your role and you had got on very well with him ever since. He had just said that your hard work had been noticed and smiled as you left his office.

Your team was overjoyed with the invites to races, it was something all of you had always spoken about. You were more of a family unit, you saw each other for hours on end every day and had grown so close that summer barbeques and birthday get togethers happened regularly, they made great drinking partners.

Whenever you’d see Daniel at a race, you’d wish him good luck as everyone else around him would too. However, you didn’t know he’d noticed how your eyes lingered on his body slightly longer whenever he was in his race suit or how you intensely stared at his hands when he ruffled his hair after he took his helmet off. It wasn’t really new to him, someone was always watching, but something about it being your eyes had got his attention. It made him slightly nervous if he was honest, but the thought of you watching meant he wanted to go out there and do the best he could in the hope that if he saw you after the race you might congratulate him with a smile on your face, and even the thought of that gave him butterflies.

Even though you were unaware of this, there was never a time he’d finish a race and you wouldn’t congratulate him. You’d grown up watching him race and just thought he was brilliant. A mixture of his personality and nonstop smile along with his determination meant that even in a race where Lewis Hamilton might even be about to win a championship, you would still be watching his car. Whether it was in 2nd or 16th, that’s where your eyes would be. Some of his crew has started to pick up on it, although the people you worked closely with sometimes joked about your little crush on him they never mentioned it outside of the group. As much as it was all fun and games, there was a mutual understanding that this was a professional environment and things like that weren’t to be joked about around management, and especially the drivers. It wasn’t any comments they’d noticed, they would tell Daniel after races how you’d been shouting at the screens just as much as they had, often louder. How you’d cheer when he overtook someone, even if it only meant it was for a single point.

Sometimes he’d question why they told him these things, a slight hint of sarcasm in his voice and they all rolled their eyes at him. They’d noticed how he’d look for you after a race, craving the smallest conversation from you and how he would instantly start paying more attention if he heard your name mentioned. They would poke fun at him and wind him up where they could but at the end of the day he understood he was there to race, and that’s what he did.

You were emptying the dishwasher when his arms snaked around your waist and kissed your shoulder before resting his head on it and whispering a small morning into your ear.

“I’ve been calling down for you, what has you in a little world of your own?” he questioned as you both swayed from side to side lightly.

“Nothing” you smiled as you placed the bowl you’d picked up on the side and turned around to face him.

“You sure about that?” he smirked as your eyes found his. “That smile suggests otherwise” It was true, you were grinning from ear to ear.

“Just thinking about when I first started coming to the paddock, and now here I am in the kitchen of the best-looking driver in Formula 1” he let out a small laugh as you spoke. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a small peck on the lips.

“What can I say? I’m great with the ladies” you playfully smacked him on the arm and frowned before laughing and turning your back to him to continue unloading the dishes. He moved his hands down from your waist to your arse as you bent over to grab something off the lower shelf. Then to your surprise he lifted the bottom part of your dress up.

“Daniel!” you laughed as you shot up and turned around again.

“You seem to have forgotten to put on underwear” he winked at you

“That isn’t my attempt to seduce you” you giggled as he started kissing your face. “It’s in the utility room”

“Lame excuse” he continued kissing you, starting to trail down your neck. Just before he could do anything else, the doorbell rang. He looked at you and groaned as you let out a laugh.

“I’ll go and put some underwear on while you let them in” you unwrapped his arms from around you and left a kiss on the corner of his lips as you made your way across the kitchen and he headed towards the door.

“Or don’t” he responded.

“I’m not really planning on flashing anyone accidently today” you replied. You heard him laugh as he opened the door and greeted his family. His parents and sister’s family made their way into the kitchen as you came out the utility welcoming them all with a hug. It had been a few months since you’d last seen them as you hadn’t been able to make it to all races.

“It’s so lovely to see you” his mum spoke as everyone began sitting down on the sofas. You were nervous when you first met his family. The age difference between Daniel and you wasn’t huge, but it had certainly gained some media attention. You didn’t want his family to think you were with him for his money and fame or even think that you were too immature to be with him. You had never brought it up with him before you’d met his parents, but he could sense you were nervous and knew why. He knew there wasn’t anything for you to worry about but didn’t say anything as he didn’t want it to play on your mind. He was right though, they loved seeing the two of you happy together and could immediately see how genuine your feelings for one another were.

“I’ve missed you guys; I’ve been looking forward to today for ages” you smiled. It was true, you loved spending time with his family. You had a relatively small family but that doesn’t mean it drama free, there was always something going on and here you felt slightly more relaxed. Daniel loved that, for years he couldn’t imagine bringing someone into his family in case they didn’t get along but when he saw how well you fitted in he couldn’t help but watch and smile.

“Y/N” his nephew shouted as he ran through the kitchen towards you. He held him arms out for you to pick him up and you placed him on your hip.

“How are you little man?” you asked

“I’m okay, look!” he said pointing down to a scrape on his knee.

“Oh no, how’d you do that?” you asked

“I fell over out there on the drive” he explained.

“Shall we put some cream on it?” you asked, “we don’t want it to get dirty do we?” he nodded his head as you spoke and carried him over to the medicine cabin and sat him on the worktop before grabbing some antiseptic cream out and rubbing it into his knee.

“Look Uncle Daniel!” he shouted across the kitchen to get his attention as he showed him his knee that now had a plaster on.

“Wow, Auntie Y/N has fixed you!” he gasped making the little boy giggle as you picked him up and put him down on the floor so he could explore wherever he wanted.

“Auntie Y/N?” you questioned Daniel as you began to get food out of the fridge for breakfast. You spoke quietly, you had never been called that before and didn’t want his family thinking that you were the one who wanted to be called that.

“What’s wrong with that?” he replied as he grabbed the eggs and bread from the cupboard next to you.

“Just haven’t been called that before, I don’t want him to think he has to call me that”

“He always calls you Auntie Y/N” Daniel said casually which caused you to freeze a bit. You had been dating for about 3 years now but hadn’t really considered that his nephew had grown up with you around and didn’t know any different. You continued to place the bacon next to the stove and grabbed a frying pan out from the drawer below.

After breakfast was over, you all headed to the zoo and spent the day wondering around visiting all of the animals. Seeing Daniel with his nephew made you smile, they had so much fun together. You also secretly loved when he went into dad mode like when he was making sure that he’d had enough to eat or drink and making sure he had enough sun cream on and wasn’t too hot. It made you excited for the future, not that you had spoke about it in much depth. You both wanted kids but hadn’t discussed when, you just figured it would happen when it felt right.

You all headed back to the house after the zoo, it was getting quite late, so you’d all ordered a takeaway. Daniel’s parents left not long after while the rest of you had some drinks, agreeing that they would all spend the night in the spare room so his nephew could stick to his routine. You didn’t drink much, only a gin with dinner. You wanted Daniel’s sister and her husband to have the chance to get a little bit drunk so agreed to stay sober in case something happened to the toddler and someone needed to be able to drive.

He was currently asleep leaning against your chest while you were all sat on the sofa’s chatting.

“I’ll put him to bed” Daniel’s sister went to get up from the sofa, but the sudden movement sent her head spinning slightly and caused her to sit back down. Everyone let out a little laugh as you volunteered yourself to carry him to the room and make sure he was settled for the night. As you carried him upstairs he stirred a little. Placing him in the bed he started muttering about the animals from today, you spoke back quietly, careful not to wake him even further as you stroked his head lightly and he drifted back to sleep. As you got up to leave, you jumped at Daniel standing in the doorway.

After shutting the door slightly so the noise from downstairs wouldn’t disturb him, Daniel spoke up. “I thought I’d see what was taking so long” he was slightly drunk, his eyes a bit drowsy compared to their normal alertness.

“I’ve been gone for about 2 minutes lover” you replied as he embraced you in a hug.

“I know I just like seeing you with him” now he was just being soppy. You laughed and took his hands into yours as you stepped back.

“I like seeing you with him too” you winked.

“Maybe,” he whispered as he hugged you again, “we should give him a cousin” he lifted you up as he spoke, and you wrapped you legs around his waist. He started walking towards the stairs but then walked past you towards the bedroom.

“Daniel Ricciardo we have visitors’ downstairs” You laughed as he carried you into the room and placed you on the side of the bed.

“They won’t hear if we’re quiet” he suggested as he ran his hand up your thigh.

“No but they’ll definitely know what we’re up to” you ran you fingers through his hair as he leaned over you before pulling him into a kiss. You continued for a minute or two until you could feel him starting to get hard against you. “We can continue this when everyone’s gone to bed” you voice was almost a whisper, you wanting this as much as him but not wanting to be rude to the couple sat downstairs, although if you’d have been drinking too you were sure it would be a completely different scenario.

It wasn’t until late the next morning after waving goodbye to his sister, brother in law and nephew that Daniel had mentioned your conversation from the night before. You both headed back upstairs to the bedroom, you were meeting some friends for lunch and both needed to get ready.

“I wasn’t kidding yesterday” You were doing your makeup in the ensuite mirror as he dried himself off from the shower. You were concentrating more on his body in the reflection than where you were spraying your setting spray. “I want to have kids with you”

With Daniel being older, it played on his mind that by the time you wanted kids, he’d be too old. He hadn’t wanted kids when he was your age and expected you to feel the same but he also didn’t want to be an old dad, he wanted to be involved with as much as he could for as long as he could. Even you thought you’d be a bit lost for words when having kids were mentioned. When you were younger you had wanted to have a secure career path and always imagined having kids in your late twenties, maybe even early thirties. However, things were different now. You loved your job and you had the man of your dreams alongside you.

“Let’s have a baby then”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Misread Details, Part Two

CW: Described death of whumper, BBU, implications of pet whump, references to noncon, dehumanization, sadistic whumper

Part One: Nanda | Part Two: Brute | Part Three: Robert

The Unsolved Murder of Henry “Brute” Hanlon and the Box Boy Killer

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee

2 weeks ago

I’m back, r/LetsTalkTrueCrime! I really appreciated the questions and discussion under my last write-up, and a few of you really encouraged me to keep working to provide a part two to my Serial Killer Box Boy series, so here it is!

In Part One, we looked at the mysterious death of Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson, who died of cardiac arrest due to an undiagnosed heart defect (and likely head trauma played a part) and was found at the bottom of the stairs inside his California home. The only valuable possession missing from his property was his legally-purchased Box Boy, who fled the city wearing Nathaniel Benson’s shoes and using his money to buy a bus and then train ticket. 

The last confirmed sighting of the runaway Box Boy (and Benson’s possible killer?) was in Red Hills, California, a large-ish city a couple hours south of Benson’s house by train. 

Questions remain around Benson’s death: did he suffer cardiac arrest and fall down the stairs? Did the Box Boy push him, with the shock of the trauma and injury leading to the heart attack that killed him?

Is the Box Boy merely a witness to a tragic but natural death, or the prime murder suspect?

And most importantly: If he wasn’t guilty, why did he run?

Less than a full calendar year after Benson’s death, the question of where the Boxie went after Benson died was answered… but even that answer only opened up more questions, and the sudden death of a second man places even more uncertainty into the story of a Boxie who might simply be an innocent victim - or who could be a serial killer whose makes a victim out of those who give him shelter.

Which leads us to the story of Henry James Hanlon, known to nearly everyone - including his wife - as “Brute”.

Henry Hanlon was born in a small town in Texas, but moved to Red Hills, California after finishing a stint in the Air Force. 

His parents, James Hanlon and Estella Hanlon, maiden name Brickers, had had their first child, Henry’s older brother William “Bill”, right out of high school, born six months after their wedding day. Henry came three years later, and his sister Roberta “Bobbie” one year after that.

Henry was a perfectly normal, cheerful little boy, always toddling after his older brother and trying to join in the games of the older kids in town. His parents recalled him as the quintessential “middle child”, always resolving disputes and quietly getting things done. He received his nickname of “Brute” in fifth grade, when a classroom bully was harassing a female friend of Henry’s and Henry decided to take action. The only information I could really hunt down on this was some old school records that I found on a message board, and I can’t really verify if they’re real, but they suggest that the bully was sent home injured and Henry received a three-day suspension.

After that, it seems, anyone and everyone - even teachers - called Henry Hanlon “Brute”, and he never seemed to mind.

He received perfectly average grades, enlisted in the Air Force, served without distinction but without any significant incidents, and afterwards he moved out to California, where he settled into Red Hills (then a city with a thriving industrial district that was slowly beginning its slide into something rougher) and took a job with a manufacturing company, working in their warehouse.

“Brute” dated around a bit, but it wasn’t until three years after his move that he met the woman he would marry, Ellen Patricia Barry. She was a few years younger than him, and they met at a local bar that both were known to frequent. One of Brute’s former coworkers told police that Brute was big into pool and poker, both of which he would engage in when he went to the bar, and that he met Ellen during one of the poker nights, and that Brute stated that how easily she beat him was one of the reasons he was interested in her romantically.

Ellen claims they first spoke while playing pool, not poker, and also claims she’s never played poker in her life. Why Brute would have told his coworkers a different story is unclear. 

They dated for about a year before they wed at Grace Baptist Church on a sunny summer day in 20XX. Ellen’s father gave her away while Brute’s little sister was the maid of honor. A year later, Brute’s daughter Elizabeth was born, and a couple years after that, their son Daniel.

The Hanlons lived a charmed life - they owned a cute three-bedroom cottage home (bought and given to them by Ellen’s parents as a wedding gift) in a good part of town with a little white fence around the property and a yard big enough for the children and dog to play in. Ellen was part of the local PTA and active in her church, and Brute himself had the appearance of a man totally content with everything he had.

But Brute Hanlon had a secret.

Ellen continued to believe he was employed by the manufacturing company, but he actually left his employment there years before his death. Instead, he seems to have transitioned into making his money “under the table”. Ellen wouldn’t discover any of this until after his body was located… in a secret house he’d never told her about, in one of the roughest parts of Red Hills.

Without her knowledge, Brute purchased a two-bedroom home with cash directly from its previous owner that was badly in need of repair in the Pauls Mill neighborhood. Once a “company town” from the 1930’s - 1950’s that was absorbed into Red Hills as it grew in the 60’s, Pauls Mill today is the kind of neighborhood where everyone knows if you belong there, or don’t, and it’s best if you belong.

Brute performed a few very cursory repairs to keep it livable, laid down some new carpet, and then used it as a kind of secret base for the unsavory activities he didn’t want Ellen or the children to know about.

While his family believed he was at work at the factory, Hanlon was in fact hosting poker games, selling illicit narcotics and unlicensed firearms, and generally making quite a bit more money than he had with legal employment entirely under-the-table. He would spend his day making connections (and money) through these activities, then go home right at 5 pm sharp to his loving family, eat dinner at 6 pm, help his kids with their homework and hear about their day, and settle in for an evening playing the loving husband and doting dad.

Somewhere during this time period, Brute told Ellen he was setting up a “poker night” with his friends again, now that the kids were school-aged. 

What he did instead was drive down to the corner of Holt and McCormick streets, known to all locals as the Red Hills “red light district”, and pick up prostitutes, usually simply meeting with them in his car, but occasionally taking them to a nearby motel.

After his body was found, police showed his picture around to a variety of the individuals who make their living at Holt and McCormick, and more than a dozen locals immediately recognized him. 

Some described him as a regular customer who wasn’t particularly special or notable beyond the simple fact that he never tried to renege on payment and could be relied on to always be looking for someone on a particular night of the week… but others, almost entirely male, said he could be violent. A few described being injured enough that they had to seek medical treatment after meeting him. The same individuals stated that he insisted on using dehumanizing and insulting language to speak to them during these encounters, and that he was often unable to perform unless he did so.

One individual, who gave his name as “Mix”, mentioned that the last few times Brute had engaged his services, he had brought along a collar and insisted Mix pretend to be a Box Boy. 

During this time period, Brute continued to be an active, involved, and loving parent. 

He was home right on time every night except “poker night”, attended his chlidrens’ recitals and baseball games on the weekends. He often took them to the Red Hills Zoo, local parks, and even did a weekend trip to Berras to see the Berras Aquarium, stay overnight in a hotel as a family, and then visit a redwoods park before returning home.

Six months before his death, Brute’s visits to the red light district abruptly stopped. Instead, he apparently met with a local prostitute, engaged his services, and took him home… for good. 

The best record we have is that one woman, Needie Brandt, remembered seeing Brute leading a shorter, angular young man to his car one night, and described the young man as “one of those runaway Boxies, collar and all. Poor thing was half-starved”. 

Runaways, especially Romantics, are picked up by police from time to time in Red Hills. Most Romantics don’t really know any other way to survive, so prostitution is a common way to make ends meet. Needie said the young man had been seen around the area for a couple of weeks, right alongside the rest of the working people in the red light district, and that after this one night she saw Brute Hanlon lead him into the car, she didn’t see him again.

Asked if she remembered a name, Needie only shrugged and said that even if she did, it wouldn’t be a real one. Which is probably a good point. 

Somewhere in here, Brute began to date outside of his marriage while his family believed he was out with friends playing poker. He took dancing lessons with one Susan Krieger, had a serious relationship with a Lucy Graham, and was apparently occasionally taking a Natalie Dorn out for dinner.

Ellen was never informed about these out-of-wedlock interests. 

Brute’s family knew nothing. When his eldest son went to state with marching band his freshman year of high school, Brute Hanlon was right there cheering him on.

Then, just two days later, he presumably went right back to brutalizing the Box Boy he was keeping in his secret second home.

We don’t have a record of what exactly transpired within the house after Brute took the runaway Box Boy in. What we do know is what the police found later on.

On October 18th, 20XX, around midnight, Ellen Hanlon called police to report her husband missing after he did not return from his regular poker night. His car was located in the parking lot of an abandoned FoodMart, but a friend of Brute’s came forward to say he often parked there and carpooled with friends when going out.

None of Brute’s possessions were inside, and it didn’t appear the car had been touched by anyone but Brute himself when it was dusted for fingerprints or signs of DNA. Brute’s friends who knew about his secret activities weren’t telling, and Ellen and the children didn’t know anything about their seemingly loving husband and father’s double-life. 

At first, the trail seemed like it would go cold, and investigators were frustrated that they had so little to go on.

Then, on October 29th, 20XX, Brute’s neighbor (who apparently asked that his name not be given) called the police department complaining about how the small two-bedroom house next door had begun to smell “like something died in there”, and that he hadn’t seen his neighbor leave or return in days, which was very unusual.

When police arrived, the front door was unlocked. Officer William Keys, the first one inside, later described the smell as “unmistakable. I knew exactly what we’d find the second we walked in that door.”

He was right.

What they found was the bloodied and decomposing body of Henry “Brute” Hanlon, lying on his back in the middle of a small unremarkable living room, on a dirty and stained carpet. He had been viciously stabbed more than fifty times. One even went so far into Brute that there was an exit wound through his back. Medical examiners would later state that at least seven of his wounds would have been directly fatal, but that he had died within the first few and most of the wounds were technically post-mortem.

The murder had been committed by someone who had a very personal reason for the killing. Investigators believe this individual was “absolutely enraged”.  

Next to his body was the murder weapon, along with a set of buckles and strips of leather that mystified the officers. These were eventually identified as modified leg braces, but rather than straightening bent or injured legs, they forced the wearer to keep their legs at nearly right angles, which would ensure they had to crawl rather than walk. They appeared to be homemade.

Bloodied smears and footprints led the officers down a hallway and to the bathroom, where there was evidence someone had showered, changed clothes, and then left.

The same neighbor who informed police about the smell also remembered seeing, on October 16th or 17th (later determined that it was likely the 17th, the day that Brute did not return home from “work”), a young man wearing an oversized coat, sweatpants, and a too-large t-shirt walk out of Hanlon’s house and down the street. The young man was on the short side, the neighbor said, had an angular face, and a visible scar at the corner of his mouth and another along the side of his face. He had the collar of the coat flipped up, and the neighbor doesn’t recall if he wore a collar or not.

He had dark eyes, and short but shaggy dark hair that seemed to have been cut hurriedly and unevenly, and he waved at Hanlon’s neighbor without pausing or speaking as he walked past.

Tests on fingerprints and DNA located within Brute Hanlon’s secret second home would reveal that the Box Boy who once ran from Nathaniel Benson after his death was the exact same one who ran from Brute Hanlon after murdering him. The Boxie’s fingerprints were all over the murder weapon… and everywhere else, too.

Within Brute’s home, more knives were found, along with what looked like a badly-crafted homemade whip and some other supplies. A few of the things investigators found appeared to be essentially identical to what was found in Nathaniel Benson’s home. Other things were different (“animalization” was mentioned in some of the reports, but what I’ve been able to find is seriously vague for some reason). 

Possibly related, a series of dog leashes purchased from a local pet-supply store were found throughout the home, but there was no evidence of an actual dog. In the home’s main bedroom was a perfectly normal queen-sized bed that was clearly Brute’s, with a small side table, a large dresser, and an attached bathroom. 

There was absolutely nothing outwardly out of the ordinary, besides the room being very plain and impersonal. Makes sense, since Brute almost never slept there. 

In the second bedroom, however, there was army-style cot with a thin blanket and sheet, three folded shirts on the floor, two sets of bloody metal handcuffs hanging off the cot’s frame at the top and bottom, and a bucket next to the bed. Two metal bowls, clearly of a style meant to be a dog’s food and water bowls, were next to the door. One still had water in it. The window was painted and nailed shut, and bars had been installed over the windows.

Investigators determined the bars were on the house when Brute Hanlon purchased it and had been installed by the previous owner. No reason for that installation was ever given.

Investigation revealed trace amounts of evidence of blood, but nothing much. However, the living room and dining area both showed poorly-cleaned bloodstains that were much older than Hanlon’s murder, including discolored patches on the walls.

A contract for a 24/7 “master/slave” style relationship was found in the top drawer of the dresser, signed ‘Pet’ at the bottom, and with Brute’s name alongside it. However, both signatures match Hanlon’s handwriting, and the Boxie is not believed to have actively signed it, as he would be illiterate at best. Plus, Box Boys are not legally allowed to enter into any contract, anyway, since they can’t understand obligations at that level, so even if he had signed it, it wouldn’t have been considered remotely valid.

I mean, not that those contracts are legal, but... you get my point.

Also located in that drawer were more than one hundred photographs showing the Boxie in a variety of compromising situations and positions. Several of these photos had Brute himself clearly visible in them, and a few had other individuals who have since been identified as Brute’s associates in his more illicit activities.

Interrogations of those associates led to more than seven further arrests for illegal gambling, the production and sale of illicit drugs, and illegal weapons sales. Those interrogations are also how we know about what Brute Hanlon was up to in-between Little League games and Girl Scout meetings.

Those associates claim that Brute kept a “secondhand Box Boy”, muzzled him so he couldn’t speak whenever guests were over, and that often ‘poker night’ simply turned into a game where the assorted guests and Brute himself repeatedly assaulted the Boxie. The associates claimed they thought the entire thing was consensual, but frankly… given the overwhelming evidence that the Boxie had to be kept restrained and was often seriously injured by these assaults... that’s doubtful.

Ellen and her children, who had previously been very visible and spoke often to local news stations about Henry’s disappearance, withdrew after his body was found and his second, secret life revealed - and have never given a single public statement or made a public appearance since. 

Ellen moved her children out of Red Hills, moving back in with her own parents, briefly, in northern California. Where they went after that is unknown, but they appear to have left the state and Ellen may have changed her surname. Investigators are firm in their belief that Ellen knew nothing about her husband’s secret life.

I would give my right arm to know what his son and daughter think about it, and if they ever suspected what their devoted dad was up to when he wasn’t at home.

So, what happened to the Boxie after he left the house and disappeared down the block from the witness who saw him?

In short… no one knows for sure.

After murdering Brute Hanlon and cleaning off the evidence that must have been all over him, the Boxie simply fades away. He could have been anywhere, doing anything at all. There is a brief sighting of him on CCTV footage at the local bus station, where he is in line to buy a ticket… and then abruptly looks up, apparently noticing the camera and looking directly into it, then turns and walks quickly away.

The footage is grainy, but the Boxie does appear to be wearing his collar.

He isn’t seen in Red Hills again.

Instead, he reappears one more time before his final murder and disappearance… more than a year later, in a little town right along the border with Nevada.

Part 3 will go into how the investigation into the death of a quiet little oddball named Robert Weber reveals a basement full of skeletal bodies. But our Boxie isn’t the cause.

Instead, Robert Weber’s murder solves a series of related murders police had been stymied by for more than a decade, and a Box Boy who may have been meant to be Weber’s next victim instead turned accidental vigilante with a final killing of his own.

Or maybe I should say, his final killing so far.

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @eatyourdamnpears @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @outofangband @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @oops-its-whump @endless-whump @cubeswhump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whumpiary 

[jerakeenc]

June-Sept Re-recs (12)

This is the best of the best of the best of what I've reread in the last couple of months. I end up downgrading a lot of the fics I reread because even my tastes change over the years. These are the ones that stay awesome, even after many rereads.

(For comparison, I put a little sparkle ✨ image next to the most perfectest (yup!) fics in my regular rec posts. The fics in this post are all sparkle.)

I included my first-read date. The calendar says 2011 was ten years ago but I have my doubts.

Now We've Learned To Kiss The Sky by torakowalski

MCU | Clint/Coulson | Explicit | 13,800 words

“I’m going to ask you something,” Phil says and then pauses and doesn’t ask Clint anything at all. “Yeah?” Clint asks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “Is it kinky?” It isn’t, obviously; Phil never has a problem suggesting anything when it comes to sex. Phil shakes his head. He looks up, catching and holding Clint’s eyes. Clint doesn’t make any more smartass comments. “Marry me?” Phil asks.

First read in 2012. It's still so lovely.

Disclosures by gqgqqt

MCU | Clint/Coulson | Teen | 67,900 words

Phil Coulson is miserable, distrusted by most of SHIELD, and still doesn't remember why. It's only going to get worse before it gets better.

(2012) I didn't think I was going to like this, this time around. But nope. Still perfect.

Quriosity by dr_girlfriend

James Bond | Bond/Q | Explicit | 79,900 words

Bond finds himself increasingly curious about his enigmatic Quartermaster.

(2014) Very very good and pretty much the prototype of what I want out of the bond/q fandom.

Out of the Dead Land (orphaned on ao3)

MCU | Bucky/Steve | Mature | 62,700 words

Someone is building machines that look and act like people. Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier tries to be Bucky Barnes.

(2014) Brilliant H/C

All the Rules to Break by foxxcub

Inception | Arthur/Eames | Explicit | 27,700 words

A notorious serial killer returns after a three-year hiatus, reminding Detective Arthur Moss of the infamous case he couldn't close. But when the FBI becomes involved, Arthur is forced to work side-by-side once again with Special Agent Daniel Eames, a man who knows Arthur better than Arthur himself will ever admit. Both men must confront their past and heal old wounds in order to bring a psychopath to justice.

(2011) I love this AU. Always have, always will.

I've Got Nothing To Do Today But Smile (The Only Living Boy in New York) by gyzym

Inception | Arthur/Eames | Teen | 19,860 words

Arthur's a corporate lawyer, Eames owns the coffee shop across the street, and all good love stories start with a quadruple shot latte.

(2011) Another AU I will love forever. Still amazing.

Scattered Pieces of My Mind (orphaned on ao3)

Hockey RPF | Kane/Toews | Teen | 22,580 words

After one scandal too many, Patrick Kane gets traded. Eventually it stops being the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

(2014) And this here is the prototype for my favorite H/C scenario. I feel like this rec list may be giving a bit too much away on my state of mind these days.

we were even after all, even in enmity (orphaned on ao3)

Hockey RPF | Kane/Toews | Mature | 60,000 words

“Jonathan,” Q says solemly. Something in his tone gives Jonny pause. He sits up straighter, waiting for the end of the sentence. “I regret to inform you that you’ve been traded to the St. Louis Blues. It’s been an honor and a pleasure working with you the past few years, and you will be sorely missed. Please clean out your locker before you leave today.” “That’s what Kaner said in your meeting?” Jonny asks, feeling numb. “That’s why it took so long? He was convincing you to trade me?”

(2014) Yup, you guessed it. H/C, angst, whump. Perfection.

Shelter by harriet_vane

Social Network RPF | Jesse/Andrew | Teen | 63,500 words

From the kinkmeme prompt: Some sort of AU vaguely based on Shelter! For whatever reason, Jesse has to take care of Hallie and give up his dream of being an actor. He ends up working in a dead end job when former, now successful friend (Andrew) returns home. They fall in love, etc, only Jesse can't go away with him because he has a responsibility to his family. CUE ANGST.

(2011) I remembered the bare bones of this story and thought I probably wouldn't enjoy it as much now... but it turned out to be excellent. Really cute AU.

here comes the sun by oflights

Social Network | Mark/Eduardo | Explicit | 56,600 words

This is a story about growing up, sad 70's rock songs, too much hair gel, "Maxwell's Silver Hammer", a baby with curly hair, a Geiger counter, a dog that isn't named Max, the Chicken Dance, Cheerios, pepper-spray, drugs, sex, and a stuffed chicken named Cluckerberg, nicknamed Cluck. or: Mark raises Sean's accidental baby, and I write the fluffiest thing ever.

(2011) And then there's this one... I mean, who'd want to read about Mark Zuckerberg in 2021, right? I do apparently. This story still gets five huge stars from me, implausible setup and all. It's endearing, romantic, super cute.

All The Stars And Bleeding Hearts by torakowalski

Social Network RPF | Jesse/Andrew | Explicit | 40,470 words

Notting Hill AU. In which Jesse runs a bookstore, Andrew is a famous film star and they’re both faily dorks in love.

(2011) Beautifully done!

and how many years I've missed you by estrella30

One Direction RPF | Harry/Nick | Explicit | 17,900 words

“So my god, Nick,” Harry folds himself down into a chair, his long legs splaying out under the table. His foot knocks into Nick’s and Nick kicks him back reflexively, his body remembering how to act around Harry even after all this time. “This is bloody crazy,” Harry shakes his head. “It’s been ages, yeah? It’s got to be like, what, five years or something?” Seven, Nick thinks to himself. You were just nineteen and I was twenty eight and it was seven years ago, not five. or, the one where Harry and Nick haven't seen each other or been in touch in seven years and then they meet up and things happen

(2014) More angst. Frickin' beautiful.

[sisterspooky1013]

Damsels, Chapter Four: First Day

By SisterSpooky1013 / Read Previous chapters here

Rated E / Tagging @today-in-fic

Angel leads Scully out of Ricky’s office and back down the hall, pointing to various doors.

“Here are the customer bathrooms, we don’t use these. That’s the exit to the lobby, but we have our own door in the back. Through here is the floor.”

Angel makes no mention of the other, unmarked doors in the hall. She pushes the “Enter Here to be Dominated” door open and they walk into a large room with the floors and ceiling painted black. To the left, there's a long bar that covers nearly the entire wall with at least twenty stools butting up to it. Directly across from the bar on the right wall, there’s a small round stage with a gold pole erected in the center. A shallow counter, just wide enough to set a cup, runs along the entire perimeter of the stage with chairs neatly pushed in against it. A mental image of herself on the stage while men look on flashes in her mind and she shakes her head gently, forcing it away. Along the back wall are several small partitions; little rooms constructed out of dark red curtains that are currently pinned open to reveal a loveseat and table in each one. The rest of the room is filled with small black tables and chairs, and can probably seat upwards of 100 people. Angel leads Scully to the left, approaching the bar.

“Back here is the bar, obviously, and this is Queenie, our lead bartender. Queenie, this is Diane, Ricky just hired her,” Angel continues.

A tall Asian woman stands from behind the counter holding a case of Jack Daniels. She has wide, round eyes and a diamond-cut chin, her full lips painted dark red and her black hair tied into a high bun.

“Hey,” she replies, “is Diane your stage name? You’re getting soft, Angel,” she teases, casting Angel a flirtatious smile.

“Oh, no, we actually haven’t gotten that far yet,” Angel replies before turning to Scully, resting one elbow on the bar top. “So while you’re waitressing, you’ll talk to Queenie a lot. She can make any drink under the sun. Tip her out twenty percent of whatever you make.”

Scully nods and wishes she had something to write all this down. Between the new terminology and rules, she's already getting confused and is bound to make a mistake. Angel leads her to the other side of the room and climbs gingerly up onto the stage.

“This is the stage, duh, and this is the pole. We call him Paul, the pin to make it spin or stationary is down here,” she leans and points to a small pin at the base of the pole.

“Oh!” Scully exclaims, “I guess never realized the pole spins.”

“Common misconception,” Angel goes on, wrapping her knee and elbow around the pole and spinning a couple slow rotations as she speaks. “But that’s why you don’t want to put oil or anything slippery on your legs or arms. You need to be able to get a good grip, especially while the pole is spinning. We’ll talk more about that later, come up here.”

Scully baulks and looks around, but climbs onto a chair, then the drink rail before finally getting to the stage itself. The room looks even bigger from up here.

“So, just from a Bird's Eye view up here,” Angel continues, “those seats against the wall back there at the end of the bar we call the rock section. Dudes just grab a seat and order a soda and then nurse it all night. Never pay for dances, never come to the tip rail, nothin’. Just sit there like a damn rock. It can be a fun challenge when you’re waitressing to try to get them to buy more drinks, if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“Tip rail?” Scully asks, sensing that this will be something she has to do a lot.

“Right, these seats right here,” Angel points to the seats that are lined up along the perimeter of the stage, “are the tip rail. You have to sit here or be close to it in order to tip stage dances, hence the name. Something else you’ll hear is doing a mini-lap, which is just when you let a guy at the tip rail motorboat you or put his face in your ass or whatever. Usually you’d do that when they give you a really fat tip.”

“I thought Ricky said the men aren’t allowed to touch you?” Scully clarifies, subconsciously rounding her shoulders and crossing her arms protectively.

“Ah, important distinction. WE can touch THEM, but they can’t touch us. So like, I can rub my tits on a guy's face, but if he grabs them, he’s toast. There are some limits to that I’ll tell you about later, but you can’t give a good lap dance without touching so we definitely touch, it’s just always us who does it, not them.”

Scully is impressed by the degree to which Ricky seems to embrace the “women in control” model, but she’s curious to see whether it’s all talk.

“So that middle part with lots of small tables,” Angel is now pointing to the middle of the room, in front of the rock section, “that’s usually where the whales sit, like Mr. Keane. They’re too classy to sit at the rail but you can still see pretty good from there. And lastly, over there,” she now points to her right to the small curtained rooms, “those are the VIP rooms. We’ll talk more about those later too when we talk about the rules, but they’re basically where customers can take a girl for a private dance.”

Scully feels a pit in her stomach. No matter what rules they have in place, there is no way she can be safe behind a curtain with a man who is paying to access her body. Her distress is interrupted by music suddenly pouring from the speakers at an obscene volume, making them both jump. It cuts off as quickly as it started, and Angel turns to look at a small raised booth behind and to the right of the stage.

“What the fuck, Ben?!” she shouts, raising her arms in an angry gesture.

“Sorry, Angel, my bad!” A thin Asian man with a narrow face and a goatee waves down to them apologetically.

“That’s Ben, the DJ. He’s not usually so obnoxious,” Angel says to Scully, then turns and shouts up to Ben. “This is the new girl, Diane!”

“What the fuck kind of stage name is Diane?” He calls back down. “Also, hi, I’m Ben,” he adds, waving again. Scully smiles warmly and waves back.

“We haven’t picked her name yet!” Angel shouts back. “We really need to pick your name, girl, this is getting old fast,” she says to Scully.

“Um, this may be a strange question,” Scully starts, “but, is everyone who works here Asian?”

Angel looks off into space for a moment, lost in thought. “No, but everyone here right now is, huh?! That’s a weird coincidence. Anyway, Asian is a big group. Denny out front is Samoan, which is actually Pacific Islander. Queenie is Vietnamese, and Ben is Japanese. And Ricky is white as fuck,” she bursts into a fit of giggles at her own joke.

“And what about you?” Scully asks her.

Angel turns and starts to walk away from her, casting a coy glance over her shoulder. “I’m whoever you want me to be, Baby,” she says with a flirty lilt in her voice, before adding “come on, I’ll show you the back.”

“The back,” accessible by a door just behind the stage, is a long hallway with restrooms, a staff locker room, a break room with a kitchen, and a dressing room for the dancers.

“So, I’m gonna show you the dancer’s room now, just so you have an idea what you’re working towards, but just FYI that they really don’t let the waitresses come back here. After this I’d keep your ass out if you don’t want to get torn a new one,” Angel advises her.

The dancer’s room is modest in size with mirrored stations set up along two walls and a small bank of four more in the middle of the room. Each station is slightly different, but most have a makeup kit, hair products, and a box that locks with a code to store cash tips. Three of the stations sit empty. Along the back wall are four doors, and along the left wall is a double-height clothes rack full of straps, sequins, lace, and mesh of all colors. While the floor had smelled like cleaner on top of stale beer and sweat, the dancer’s room is sweet and perfumed with hints of vanilla and cinnamon.

“What’s through those doors?” Scully asks casually.

“The second one on the left will take you outside, that’s the one we can use to come and go without having to go by the customers,” Angel answers. “There’s another one of those at the end of the hall out there you can use while you’re waitressing. The door on the far right is a single stall bathroom. The other ones are storage or something, I don’t know. They’re locked.”

Scully gives no reaction to this information but makes a mental note of it for later. After they look at the general staff locker room and the kitchen, Angel plops down at a table near the fridge and Scully follows suit, taking the seat across from her.

“So, before we go grab lunch, let’s figure out your stage name so we can introduce you to people properly,” Angel begins. “There’s kind of a tradition here that your stage name starts with the same first letter as your real name. I don’t know why, and people will say it’s not a ‘rule’ per se, but if you don’t do it it will probably seem weird.”

“What’s your real name, if that’s okay to ask?” Scully inquires nervously. Not having real names will make this whole investigation a lot harder.

“Oh no, it’s fine. They aren’t a secret or anything, we just don’t like the customers to know our real names. My name is Ann. So Ann/Angel, both A’s. Queenie’s real name is Quyen. You can ask any of the girls and they’ll tell you their real name if you want. Except maybe Lexie, she’s a stuck up bitch. So I’ll just tell you now, her real name is Leanne.”

Scully laughs good-naturedly, though she has the passing thought that a lot of people may describe her as a stuck up bitch too.

“So, something that starts with a D, what suits your fancy?” Angel asks. Seeing the worried look on Scully’s face, she makes some suggestions. “You could go with a classic, like Diamond. Something a little more stereotypical like Destiny. Oh, what about Desiree, that’s really pretty, and it suits you.”

Scully considers it for a moment. Who she’d really like to be is Dana, on her way home from this insanity. Given that isn’t an available option, Desiree isn’t so bad.

“Yeah, I think I like that,” she says with a shy smile.

“Great, can I call you Desi?” Angel asks excitedly.

“Sure,” Scully responds, and then follows a very spirited Angel out into the afternoon sunlight in search of something to eat.

They end up at a little Mexican restaurant a short walk from the club. It’s the kind of hole in the wall place that only locals know exists, with tacky pink paint on the booths and dusty Cinco De Mayo flags criss-crossing the ceiling.

“So, Angel, how’d you end up working at Damsels?” Scully asks as she drags a tortilla chip through the watery salsa. She’s highly motivated to solve this case and get the hell out of here, so there’s no sense in wasting time.

“Oh, I just met Ricky through mutual friends and he told me about his club. I was a dancer at a total shithole before, so coming here was such a huge relief.” She stabs at the ice in her drink with a straw, breaking it up into smaller pieces.

“Are you working towards something else, or is there something else you’re hoping to do?” Scully asks next.

“I might ask you the same, Desi,” Angel returns with a slight cock of her head, and Scully realizes that was a rude question.

“Sorry, I guess I still have a lot to learn about the social nuances of this job.”

Angel shakes her head dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a question you get asked a lot as a dancer, as you’ll find out. Everyone thinks you’re just stopping here on the way to something better, something more legit. God forbid your life plan is to show your ass for cash, right? I mean, that is true for some of the girls; Tibet is getting her masters and Magenta has a day job as a therapist, but I honestly just like it.”

Scully is more careful with the wording on her next question. “What do you like about it?”

“Well,” Angel takes a bite of a chip and chews thoughtfully, “I grew up with really judgmental, uptight parents who basically made me feel like I was dirty and disgusting for existing, and for being female. I was always really ashamed of my body and when men looked at me, I thought I was doing something wrong to bring it on myself. After I moved out, my friend took me to a strip club and I was totally blown away by the confidence the women had with their bodies. Men were looking at them, but not like they were gross and sinful, just like they were…beautiful. And they looked so powerful up there commanding all that attention. And I just wanted to be up there like that, celebrating my body and deciding what happened with and to it. And here I am.”

Scully sits quietly, absorbing an answer that she wasn’t expecting to hear. She thinks about her own upbringing and the “good girls don’t” mentality that tainted her early sexual exploration. Even as a fully grown adult in consensual, committed relationships, she couldn’t shake the underlying guilt that she was worldly and sinful for desiring and having sex outside of marriage. It bleeds over into her relationship with Mulder, she knows. She can accept any physical attention he bestows upon her, and in fact wants it desperately, but for her to initiate it would mean…something. Something she isn’t ready to admit, even to herself.

Angel speaks again, interrupting her thought. “What about you, Desi, what brings you here? I showed you mine, you show me yours…or whatever.”

“Oh,” Scully says, scrambling to bring her cover story forward. “Um, I, uh, I got divorced recently, or I’m legally separated, anyway. I just got my own place after living with my husband for seven years and I haven’t really worked that whole time, I just supported his work. So, I don’t really have any marketable skills.”

Angel smiles. “Shoot, that ass is a marketable skill, girl! Those titties are hella marketable.”

Scully blushes, unused to anyone talking about her that way, and is surprised by how flattered she feels by such a crass compliment. Their server arrives and sets their plates down, and Angel’s demeanor shifts a bit as they dig into their meal.

“Okay, so down to the nitty gritty. Like I said, there are rules for us as dancers, and for waitresses too. Ricky mentioned his feelings about heroin and meth, right?”

“Yep, that will not be an issue,” Scully says confidently, spearing a bell pepper with her fork.

“Good, so also don’t get, like, super drunk or super high while on shift. A little to take the edge off is okay, but a drunk stripper is just pathetic. Like I said, the men can’t touch us, but it’s okay for us to touch them, EXCEPT we do NOT do extras at Damsels. No hand jobs, no blow jobs, and definitely no fucking, not even in VIP. Not in their car outside, not behind the dumpster, it’s a very hard and fast rule, no pun intended. Ricky will fire even his best girl in a heartbeat if he finds out she’s doing extras. Oh, and no kissing.”

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[rjhpandapaws]

Something Familiar

Prologue: A Risk Worth Taking

It wasn’t supposed to go like this, there wasn’t supposed to be this much death. They were supposed to rebel, survive, and go back out into the world. More than just three of them were supposed to make it out. Or rather, there had been three of them, but Silas hadn’t seen any sign of his brothers since he had gotten to the forest. He couldn’t risk lingering, he didn’t want to risk being recaptured. He sent a prayer up to whatever deity felt like listening that his brothers would be kept safe, and then changed into a snake. He stuck to the under brush as best he could and looked for a place to take shelter so he could nurse his wounds. He was tentative about calling what they had done a success because of how many of his kind had died. Shape Shifters had been hard to find before this, they were a rare subclass of mage. Then they had been hunted to be sold as familiars which were just as rare and picky about who they bonded with. Then this. Maybe three of them had survived, but Silas wasn’t about to get his hopes up. Silas had no idea what he was going to do next. Ideally he would find a healer and then get himself patched up. He had broken bones that he could still feel even in a form that didn’t have those specific limbs. The biggest issue was that healers cost money and Silas had exactly nothing to his name, Even with the dire condition he was in, there was likely not a healer out there that would treat him for free.

When the white hot pain from changing forms settled into something manageable he started looking for a place to take shelter. He needed a place to lay low and recover. Pick a form and stay in it so he wouldn’t risk breaking anything else. He was at the outer edge of a path so he decided to follow it. All roads lead to something akin to civilization be it a town, a camp, or a house. He didn’t exactly believe anyone would be all that keen on helping him, but he couldn’t afford to be picky at this point. He would honestly just be grateful for a dry place to rest if someone could be bothered to give him that much. There was a house at the end of the path. It was well maintained, and much to his surprise there was no magical barrier around the place. He made it to the door without an issue. There didn’t seem to be anyone inside either when he made his way under the door. There were no magical barriers to be found inside the house either which was interesting to him. This person either wasn’t a magic user or often opened their home to other magic users. He braced himself for the excruciating pain that was going to come with changing back. He didn’t change all the way, just enough to be vaguely human shaped, and settled into the chair at the table. When his vision cleared he looked more around the house. There was a pile of crumpled papers on the table. Silas couldn’t help his curiosity as he looked through them.

They were failed familiar contracts. According to the papers he was a healer and his home served as his clinic. He was glad to see that the world didn’t seem to have changed too much during the years he had been locked away. The paperwork on the table suggested that though he was a particularly good healer, it was more due to his medical knowledge than his magical strength. While he was strong enough to summon a familiar he didn’t usually have enough magic left to bond with one. Perhaps they could make this work, Silas could offer him enough magic to bond with a familiar in exchange for being healed. Maybe he could even exchange housework for a place to stay. Intruding on a mage and his familiar could be considered a violation of an intimate bond, so he likely wouldn’t stick around after the contract was made. He would exchange magic for healing and figure out the rest on his own. He was an alright thief and if all else failed he could always resort to turning tricks. He heard the door creak open and flinched. Silas didn’t have the strength to change forms again without passing out. He let out a quiet sigh and set down the contract he had been reading. He would be noticed in a matter of time, and after that there would be a lot of explaining and bargaining to do. Hopefully this healer was one of the few compassionate ones. Maybe he would be willing to help even though Silas had so little to give in exchange.

It took longer than Silas thought for the cloaked mage to notice him. Then when he finally was aware of Silas’s presence he seemed to be on autopilot, “I’m sorry that you came all this way but the clinic is closed for the next few-” He finally turned to face Silas as he was pulling his hood down. Silas observed that his hair was a mess and he had light blue eyes, they were wide with both worry and shock, “Who are you? More importantly, how did you get into my house?” “You can call me Sixty.” He knew better than to give his actual name, they held power when you were a creature class, “I used the door, in a sense. Might I suggest security runes if your clinic really is closed to the public.” “Why- how did you find this place?” The unknown man continued, “What do you want?” “You’re trying to gain a familiar.” The words made him feel sick, “If you heal me, in a few days I will  have enough strength to lend you magic. You can summon and bond with a familiar and then I will be out of your hair.” “They will leave not all that long after you do.” The mage said quietly, “Familiar’s won’t stay with someone who can’t protect them. Even then I won’t lie on a contract, I refuse to be that kind of keeper.” He sighed quietly though, “I will still help you though. I don’t know what kind of fight you got yourself into, but some of those wounds look pretty serious.”

Silas found himself genuinely surprised. He had been hoping for someone like this, but the odds had been anything but in his favor. That, and this one seemed genuine. He didn’t want to hook a familiar into a false contract. Maybe his luck had finally changed. “Is there a way I could properly thank you?” He paused and faltered, he didn’t know this man’s name, “I’m afraid I don’t know your name.” “Daniel.” He responded, “The biggest thing you can do to help is be still. This is going to hurt.” Daniel came to stand beside him, “I’m going to reset your broken bones today, you are going to stay here and rest a while, then I’ll take a couple days to treat your other wounds. Understand?” “If its too taxing on you to do this in one go, I could lend you some of my magic. We could do this in one go and I’ll be out of your hair come morning.” He offered  and was taken off his guard by Daniel’s responding laugh. It was a bright and joyful thing that really didn’t fit the situation. “Thank you.” Daniel said once he had collected himself, “Sixty wasn’t it? I’m not pacing this out for me. Mending bones is one of the most painful things a healer can do, you’re going to be exhausted after, if not entirely in shock.”

That conversation was the last thing Silas remembered before he woke up in a bed that definitely wasn’t his. He looked around the house to try and get his bearings. He tried to sit up in increments, when he was about halfway to what could be considered a sitting position he let out a pained sound and laid back down. “Finally back with me?” He heard Daniel’s voice come from somewhere near the kitchen, “Because we need to have a chat about a few things.” Silas gave a groan in response. There was still too much pain coursing through his systems for him to form words. Daniel unfortunately had not been exaggerating; having his bones reset was some of the worse pain he had ever gone through. Which was saying a lot, all things considered. “Like what your name actually is, if you know it of course. I refuse to call you by any of the numbers branded into your skin.” Daniel said as he came over with a tray of some of the best food Silas had ever seen, “Then, if you’re comfortable, why you had so many serious injuries both old and new. How it was that a simple bone mending spell would knock you out for almost a week.” Silas flinched and looked away as Daniel continued in a softer tone, “I’m just worried.”

Silas was quiet for a long moment. Daniel set the tray up over his lap and helped him to sit up, but didn’t push for answers. He seemed to know that this was going to take a lot out of him. His stomach had turned from all of the questions so he nursed the tea instead as something to keep him busy. “My name is Silas.” He eventually said. His voice was barely above a whisper and he was half expecting The Professor to come crashing through the door now that he had said it aloud, “I haven’t been called that since before.... everything I suppose.” “Is there something else you would rather be called?” Daniel asked, “I would hate to dig up unpleasant memories while you stay here.” Silas found himself smiling. Daniel was at the very least considerate, if not overly nosey, “Silas is fine. Its just been a while since I’ve heard it is all.” Silas felt the tears start to roll down his cheeks and he wiped them away as they fell, “I suppose it means this is real, that I’m finally safe.” “Okay. That’s enough for now.” Daniel said, and Silas heard him distantly as something that was a painful mix of a sob and a laugh rattled its way out of him. He was feeling an odd mix of relief and guilt. Like he was simultaneously in free fall and chained to the ground. He was alive. He was free; and it had only cost him everything he had ever known. He had no idea what he was going to do now. He had no idea how much the world had changed, or if it had changed at all. Not to mention if there was a place for him in it.

Silas didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke up again the house was dark, he was a little less stiff, and he was hungry. He tried sitting up again, it was a little easier this time. He let out a hiss of pain once he was situated. The sound seemed to summon Daniel out of the shadows. “Sorry for putting you under again.” Daniel started, “You broke down into hysterics and nothing else seemed to calm you down.” “Thank you.” Silas said, “Might I make a request though?” “Go for it.” Daniel replied. “Please don’t ever do it again.” Silas said lowly, “The thought of someone else being in charge of my sense of awareness makes me uncomfortable.” “Of course.” Daniel agreed, “Do you mind if I talk to you about something?” “You’re the doctor.” Silas remarked dryly, but Daniel’s expression sobered him up pretty quickly. “There’s a lot more damage to your body than I had originally thought.” Daniel started, “Its going to be at the very least six months until the physical damage is healed enough for me to be comfortable letting you leave.” “If payment is an issue we can make a deal.” Silas scrambled in his desperation, and continued with something he was certain to regret, “We could make a contract. I’m a beast subclass, I can lend you my magic. Just please don’t leave me like this.”

“Silas, breathe,” Daniel coaxed, “I’m not going to kick you out. I said I was going to heal you and I meant it.” Daniel paused, “Its just, you have a lot of mental trauma as well. That’s what worries me. Bones mend, memories don’t.” “That is none of your business.” Silas snapped, he had shifted partially and bared his newly sharpened teeth, “Just fix the physical shit and I’ll do the rest on my own.” Daniel didn’t outright call him a liar, but those blue eyes voiced his doubts well enough, “We’re going to make that contract as well;  but not act on it, I need a way to explain why I have a Shape Shifter in my home.” Daniel looked away from him, “I disagree with it, but the laws are that Shape Shifters must be bound to a higher mage. As soon as you are well I will burn it and you can be on your way.” Silas looked down at his hands. Of course there had been a contingency plan. The Professor was a smart man, even in the event of their escape they would never truly be free. They had the option to be tied down or hunted. There were worse people to be bound to than Daniel he supposed, but he still withered at the thought. He had offered the contract as a desperate last bid for care. It was a risk he hadn’t calculated fully and now he was stuck.

“I’m trusting you with this.” Silas said firmly, “Don’t abuse it.” “Thank you for your trust.” Daniel agreed, “I won’t betray it.” Silas wanted to believe him, but couldn’t shake the feeling that he was making a mistake. Though he supposed he had taken worse risks and had come away alive at the very least. Daniel couldn’t be any worse than what he had already been through. He had only his life left to lose, and he didn’t think it was worth all that much either way.

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression - Ep 32 , Radio version - May 2016 - Domestic Violence, Racial discrimination in the USA, Chiba legend 'Jaguar', Ancient mummy wearing Addidas.

Kaoru starts by mentioning that its still Golden Week in Japan (a week of national holidays that occurs every year in the Spring). Joe says that Golden Week doesn't really mean much to him and Kaoru, as they are always working anyway. Kaoru says its tough for Dir's staff, because if the band are working, the staff usually have to be working too. They do sometimes try to make it so the staff can have a break during this time, but if there's work to be done, it can't be helped. Kaoru does say that the streets in Tokyo are much less jammed with cars during Golden Week, which he likes.

Kaoru's first topic of interest is the 'Black dot' campaign, designed to help victims of domestic violence. The campaign was started by British woman Danielle Tredgett, and the premise was that if a sufferer of DV drew a black dot on thier hand, people in the community might be able to recognize it, and help them. One problem with this is that if the perpetrator of the abuse knows the meaning of the black dot, it could worsen the situation if they see it. Kaoru thinks victims of bullying face a similar situation, in that even if they want to talk to someone about it, they can't. Or if they do tell someone, the bullying might worsen. Joe mentions that in the case of DV, people often feel like there is no way out. He thinks seeing this type of thing on the news makes society face up to these issues and forces us to think about them, even if we are not directly involved in such situations ourselves. Kaoru says it is often the case that women are the victims of DV at the hands of male partners, but he recently saw on the news that cases of women abusing men are also on the rise, and male victims of DV generally have no one to talk to about it, or any means of support. Its very difficult for society to recognise that men can also be victims of domestic violence. Kaoru also thinks its very difficult for a man to admit something like that to others. Its a very tough issue, and he really thinks that community support and having a place to go to for help like a community center is very important.

Kaoru's next topic of interest is about an apparel maker (GapKids) who put out an ad containing four girls: three white, and one black. In the ad (link here), one of the taller white girls is resting her elbow on the head of the black girl. The image has caused a lot of controversy. Kaoru says how this could be seen as inappropriate. Joe says that the Civil Rights Act was passed in America in 1964 as a means to end segregation, but the reality is that even now, discrimination against black people in America has not disappeared. He says that incidents involving the police shooting young black Americans without reason are frequent. The issue of racial discrimination is a very sensitive issue within American society. Joe says he recently talked with movie critic Machiyama Tomohiro via Skype, who said that even now, there are a lot of movies which can't be screened in America - in particular, movies set in the time of the Civil War, or movies grappling with the topic of racial discrimination. Such movies usually cannot be screened in regular movie theatres. He brings up the 1946 Disney movie, 'Song of the South', set during the American Reconstruction era, where a white boy becomes friends with a black man. The movie is seen to pull a veil over the system of slavery. Disney does not curreny screen the movie anywhere at all. Joe asked Machiyama whether it might not be better for these movies to be screened in order to remind American society of its past deeds, but Machiyama told him that it is a risk that movie companies are not willing to take. If such movies were screened in theaters, boycotts would likely take place. There is no merit for theaters or movie companies to do so, only risks. The online backlash would also be intense, and so movies such as this get shelved. Joe thinks this kind of protest reaction is going a bit overboard. Kaoru comments that while racial discrimination in American does not disappear, tensions continue to escalate, but overall he agrees with Joe. Joe says that although this is not a solution to this problem, there is the growing concept of 'Slow media', taking place in America and the UK. This is where news is analyzed in depth three months after it occurred, in contrast to the instant consumption of media that goes on around us all the time. He thinks this type of approach is worth watching, as it is really important to get a good balance when looking at serious issues. Kaoru also thinks this idea is interesting.

Next they welcome Tasai for the Tokyo Sports corner. Tasai says he is covering for Dobashi this time, because Dobashi is busy taking care of his kids. Kaoru and Joe think this is a much better reason than Hiranabe's. Joe says Hiranabe is probably still in Atami, still trying to  get his revenge. (See Ep 29 and 31). Hiranabe apparently sometimes sends Joe cute stamps on Line. Joe thinks he must have sent them to the wrong person. Tasai tells the others that Hiranabe is currently talking to a Thai woman via Line. He showed Tasai texts from her saying, 'Can't wait to see you' etc. Tasai also apologizes to Kaoru once again about the 'bande desinée/bando de shinee' mix-up that Kami made last week.

Tasai's first news is about the trending artist/musician 'Jaguar', who is based in Chiba. Kaoru knows about him already, but Joe does not. Tasai says that Jaguar has been inaugurated as the face of the channel 'Chiba TV' at an event he recently attended. Jaguar originally owned a clothes repair business, and a beauty salon etc in Chiba. He has become a bit of a legend because for 11 years he bought his own broadcasting slot on Chiba TV on broadcadt his own show. He did everything himself, including filming, editing, delivery etc. At the recent inauguration event, Jaguar apparently told people he had come from the planet Jaguar, but got stuck in traffic on the way. Tasai says that Jaguar is also rumored to have hung out with Hide a lot back in the day, as Hide had done a part time job at Jaguar's business, and he has also done events with Ayanokoji Sho, vocalist of the band 'Kishidan'. He's the type of guy who knows people in the rock scene.

Speaking of Hide, Joe mentions to Kaoru that, 'You love Hide more than god, right?', which causes laughter as they confirm that Joe wasn't referring to 'that' god (Kami).

Joe mentions that 'quirky' characters like Jaguar are recently getting a lot more focus in the media and online. Kaoru says its just the next step on from 'yuru kyara' (those cute mascot characters). Tasai reckons Jaguar must be in his 60s by now, as he said once that he was in a band during the oil shock in the 1970s. They encourage listeners to search for Jaguar to see what he is like.

For Tasai's next story he says that he has recieved another tip-off letter, like the one he got last time. The letter is titled 'Time traveller',  and refers to a story about a 1500 year old mummy being found wearing Addidas shoes. Of course the letter was from Kami. Joe thinks Kami should focus more on his night shift, instead of looking for wierd stuff to send to Tasai. Tasai said he was going to just dismiss this story, but he realised that while Kami was busy scolding him last week he (Kami) was wearing Addidas clothes. Tasai suggests that the mummy wearing Addidas shoes is Kami's doing. Maybe he travelled back in time to do it. Kaoru says that Kami is a god after all. He did teleport himself to the studio last time, so of course he could time travel if he wanted. Tasai says that Tokyo Sports have decided to run this story. Joe says the photo of the mummy's foot does look like it has three stripes on it, but there is every possibility that it could be photoshopped. They wonder why Kami isn't joining them for this topic, when suddenly, he appears. Kami's first comment is, 'A Kansai person has to come if they are called', admitting that he is a Kansai god. Kami tells them it was him who went back in time as a god from the future bringing shoes. He says it was a favour for his friend who works for Addidas. Kaoru asks Kami to take Dir en grey's new single far back into history. Kami says people in the past would probably find it too noisy/unpleasant, so Kaoru suggests for him to just take the CD cover instead. Kami loses his train of thought a bit, and Joe accuses him of being slow today. Kami scolds Joe, and they all apologise to him (while laughing).

Kaoru finishes by saying he will play more of the jingle campaign entries from next week after he has had chance to listen to them. He Then plugs the new single (due on July 27th 2016), and his blog, DVD, and tour. Finally he comments that this show has been pretty lively. Joe says its ok because its still Golden Week.

Songs - Dir en grey/Sustain the Untruth.

[ohana]

When you looked me in the eyes, you finally made me recognize (Cobra Kai Secret Santa)

I'm probably ten thousand hours early because I'm on the wrong continent but still.

Here is my entry for the Cobra Kai Secret Santa hosted by @cobrakaisecretsanta​ (thank you thank you thank you) for @trashmouth-writes

The request from trashmouth-writes was "Definitely anything with pouty johnny with super lovey dovey Daniel" And it seemed nice to write something Christmas and a bit silly. I hope you like it (if you don't like it, please lie to me)

Summary

 "Anyway, yes the advent calendar. I think it's a scam or a trap. Someone is trying to fuck with me."

"Giving you gifts?" When LaRusso's voice rises an octave he seems to be still sixteen.

"Johnny, have you ever thought that maybe someone is simply giving you gifts? Like to make you happy?"

In which Johnny starts to receive an advent calendar from a mysterious admirer.

Lawrusso, of course.

On AO3 too, here.

When you looked me in the eyes, you finally made me recognize

He remembers his first Christmas with Ali. The party, the people, Ali's red dress that she hated but her grandmother wanted her wear (she was beautiful and he hadn't even told her). His mother's laugh and how she kissed his cheek and said that they were such a beautiful couple. Sid saying "You are doing good, kid", maybe for the first time of their life together as family, and "Merry Christmas."

He doesn't remember Robby's first Christmas. He wasn't there. Shannon has sent him a Christmas card, a photo of her and Robby smiling together with some silly hats and "prick" scribbled over the big tree.

He wonders if Robby remembers the Christmas when he was there or it was too late.

He never thinks about the Christmas after the All Valley Tournament. He dreams about it sometimes. Kreese's hands on his neck, LaRusso's face disfigured with pain after Johnny hit him in the leg, the trophy, Bobby's phone calls that he kept not answering and all the "Johnny, open the door" of his mother, the Christmas eve at the beach alone.

It's not that he hates Christmas. He just doesn't care about it.

He doesn't buy chocolate. Damn most of the time he even forgets to buy real food, let alone chocolate (less often than in the past, to be honest. Maybe because Robby sleeps at his house a couple of nights a week, maybe because he's getting old and he can't live only drinking beers, maybe because LaRusso sends him stupid text from the supermarket reminding him to buy green stuff as if they were in a comedy from the 1950s). Anyway. He doesn't buy chocolate that is the main reason why now he's been sitting in his office at Cobra Kai in front of a bag of chocolates for half an hour without knowing what to do. He lifts them up, studies them a bit as if he suddenly could tell if they are poisoned. He googles them too, because now he's the kind of nerd who uses the internet. He writes "scams chocolates" but finds nothing.

He hears a key in the lock and footsteps.

"Diaz!"

Miguel overlooks at the door. His footsteps are still uncertain every now and then but in the last year he has made so much progress that if Johnny celebrated his thanksgiving day his first thank you would be for that kid.

"Yes, Sensei?"

Johnny points to the chocolates.

"Are these yours?"

Diaz looks puzzled. "Er ... no?"

"No, are you sure?" He says. Like a good teacher, like someone ready to listen to his students and not yell at them. "You can tell me."

Diaz looks even more puzzled. "Still no, sorry." He thinks for a second "Why should I have put some chocolates in your office?"

"What the fuck do I know? Why should I put them here?"

"Because it's your office?"

Johnny shrugs. "They're not mine."

Miguel walks over to him and checks the desk as if he were a fucking detective. "Was there nothing attached? No note? A receipt? Nothing?"

"Of course there was nothing attached, Mr. Diaz! I would have noticed it!" he says waving the bag that in that exact moment drops a small piece of paper. They both watch it as it gently flutters across the desk and if someone walks in at that moment and sees them he will immediately think they are father and son. Which is the truth even if it isn't.

"It's a one!" Miguel screams as if he has solved the mystery.

"I know dummy, I can read. Why is there a piece of paper with a one written on it?"

"Oh." He says, sadly "I don't know."

They stare at the chocolates and the paper for a few seconds.

Miguel takes the bag in his hand. "They look good, fancy. Not something you'll find at the store, mh?"

"How long is it until the next lesson, Diaz?" He asks him.

"At least half an hour."

"Do you want a chocolate?"

The next day in front of Cobra Kai's door there is a bottle of rum with a bow, a number two written on a card and a pretentious brochure explaining how to pair chocolate with rum. He looks around and when he doesn't see anyone that could reclaim it he takes it in his office and then at home. He doesn't have any chocolate left because the self restrain is not his best attribute but the rum tastes quite good anyway. He is freezing and it makes him feel warm.

He talks about it with LaRusso the next saturday. Until that day he received an Anthrax t-shirt and a pack of artisanal mini pizzas.

"Are you sure they're for you? Maybe someone got the wrong address and you're stealing some Christmas presents!" LaRusso suddenly comes alive and starts hopping like he always does when he's excited about something (it's not that he really hops, he just moves faster. Not that Johnny pays any attention to it. Because he doesn't.) "Maybe you're the Grinch of a family that lives near Cobra kai! "

"LaRusso the chocolates were inside my office, a bit too much for a wrong address don't you think?" and then "Who the fuck is the Grinch?"

From LaRusso's scandalized expression, this is not the right thing to say. What a surprise.

"Okay, no wrong addresses. Did you ask Robby? Maybe he ordered them on amazon?"

"Hey we don't do these things in our house, that dark web shit."

"What?!"

"Anyway, why are we here?" They are walking through home improvement stores. Near them only mothers with children, families, people who laugh and joke and talk and Johnny hates them all.

"You know why we are here. We are here because, as I wrote you, I have to buy a Christmas tree." (and I didn't want to go alone, he is about to say. But he doesn't say that. And I wanted to go with you, he thinks. But he doesn't say that either.)

"And you didn't go with Amanda ... why?"

"Because you don't go with your ex-wife to buy a Christmas tree for your new bachelor flat. We're not that civilized."

"I don't understand why you need a Christmas tree anyway." Daniel shows him a tree topper full of ribbons and ruffles and things that shouldn't be in any straight person's apartment. Or in general. "Put that thing down or am I going to have to kick you."

"Mh, and who knows how it would end ..." but he is smiling and there is a tone of complicity in his voice. "I don't want Sam and Anthony to come to my house for the holidays and see a bachelor loft, I want them to see a tree and some presents and decorations. They're already going through divorce and everything, I want at least my home to be normal, cozy." Then a sigh. "Besides, I like Christmas."

"Why? Christmas is just people who don't like each other together and presents that you'll not like."

Daniel bursts out laughing and throws a punch at him. Johnny tries to see nothing in that gesture, in that intimacy. "Oh my god, you really are the fucking Grinch, Johnny Lawrence. I just don't know. I just like it. Maybe because I'm a father and when they were little Christmas was the most magical time of the year for the kids. I don't know...I like waiting for presents, I like lights, I like people, I like the warmth."

"Pffff. If you say so."

"How about this?" LaRusso indicates a tree, not too big, not too naked(Johnny is convinced that in reality in LaRusso hates all the minimalist things he buys, all the apartments with dove gray walls and gray furniture and just pretend because  c'mon, just think about how he dressed as a kid there is nothing beige in that man).

"Looks ok." He thinks about it for a moment. "Now do you also want me to help you find some mistletoe to hang around the house or are we finally ready to go?"

"Considering that the only person who walks through the door of my house, apart from my children, is you, should I take that as a suggestion?"

And Johnny nearly risks a head-on against a Christmas tree.

LaRusso is still laughing as they walk out of the shop with bags full of Christmas baubles.

(It wasn't a suggestion, of course. Why would he suggest something like that? They don't have that kind of relationship. There would be no reason to kiss under the mistletoe. Or kissing in general. Obviously. Fuck it. He doesn't think about anything else all night. Fuck it.)

In the end it's Hawk that explains everything.

Miguel and the other students are outside Cobra Kai sharing a couple of beers that Johnny is pretty sure they shouldn't drink but since he found them at the door fuck it. They are triple malt, from a microbrewery and the cap does not even unscrew but they don't really suck.

Hawk lifts one of the bottles, looks at the number on it and then as if it were the most natural thing in the world he asks. "Sensei, did you buy yourself a craft beer advent calendar?"

"Huh?" Says Johnny.

"An advent calendar."

"Huh?" Miguel asks.

"How is it possible that the boy with the Jewish grandparents has to explain to you what an advent calendar is?" And since they don't seem to understand, he continues. "On this bottle there is the number seven, today is December 7th. Were there another six bottles of beer?"

"No." Miguel replies sadly.

"No?"

"But there were six other gifts, each with a number attached to it." Johnny corrects him.

"One a day!" Adds Miguel.

"So it's an advent calendar. One surprise a day until Christmas."

Oh.

"Except if he didn't buy it himself, some chick must have bought it for him. Not bad for an old man, Sensei!"

The kids start speculating about who might have given it to him and looking at all possible advent calendars on their smartphones.

Johnny walks away as a high-pitched voice speaks of "Merry cheesemas". When he gets home he throws the remaining beers in the garbage and turns off the television when the usual Christmas movie appears.

"I think it's a trap" He says to LaRusso the next monday.

"What?" LaRusso looks lost. He is wearing a big scarf but his nose is still a bit red and he looks, Johnny would rather die than say it out loud, cute.

"The gifts with the numbers on it."

"The Advent Calendar?"

Why everyone knows what an advent calendar is?

Johnny nods.

"Is the advent calendar a trap?"

Now Johnny seems like an idiot. Which is not. Definitely.

"These ones?"

LaRusso shakes his head as Johnny points to some plant shears. He hands him an even bigger pair.

"These are more suitable for outdoor bonsai. They won't rust if you don't dry them well after disinfecting them. They are slightly more expensive but last a lifetime." His eyes sparkle when he talks about his stupid plants. Johnny hates him a little.

"A little more expensive?" He looks at the price tag. "I could buy him a real tree with the price, not these miniature trees that you short people like."

LaRusso snorts "But Robby doesn't want a tree for Christmas." He stops for a second lost in his thoughts "If they're too expensive I can contribute, I'd love to." And even if it costs him to admit it, Johnny knows that he is sincere in this. LaRusso is an asshole, a hothead, he believes himself better than others and he can never shut up but he is generous, he really likes to do things for others. Johnny hates him a little.

"Give them to me." He takes the scissors and puts them in the basket. "Anyway, yes the advent calendar. I think it's a scam or a trap. Someone is trying to fuck with me."

"Giving you gifts?" When LaRusso's voice rises an octave he seems to be still sixteen. "Why?"

"What the fuck do I know? Why do people do things? Maybe it's one of your mortal enemies who wants to screw me. Maybe it's Terry Silver."

"We're not talking about Terry Silver." It is true. But they talked about him. One evening in that confused space of time when everything was going to hell, in which while Johnny's life, the Cobra Kai and LaRusso's marriage were falling apart, they found a way of their own to communicate. They found their own dimension.

"Maybe someone you pissed off." He replies.

"Someone that I pissed off? And why would someone I pissed off try to screw you? By giving you gifts by the way? Besides, I think you piss off enough people on your own."

"Pfff. In any case, I threw everything in the garbage. Nobody can fool me like that."

They keep walking into the plant shop.

"Johnny, have you ever thought that maybe someone is simply giving you gifts? Like to make you happy?"

That night when he gets home he takes the panettone and the Zebra bootleg out of the garbage. They are both pretty good.

On Thursday in the advent calendar, he gave up and decided to call it that, he found a small radio. It's the miniature version, with a USB port (Miguel tells him), of the Ali's one that he broke on the beach. Even the songs included are the same ones he listened to at that time. That evening when a Christmas movie is being shown on television, he waits ten minutes before changing the channel.

"I think it's Ali." He tells LaRusso when they meet up the next day for a couple of beers and some Chinese food (for Johnny, LaRusso insists on eating that awful raw fish that costs more than cooked fish and tastes like sea).

"What?"

"I think Ali made the advent calendar for me." and then because LaRusso doesn't seem to understand he tells him about the Zebra bootleg, about how most of the surprises seem to come from someone who knows him well and obviously about the radio like the one Ali had.

LaRusso doesn't seem so sure. He stretches on the sofa, where they sat to watch The Grinch because according to Daniel it was not acceptable that Johnny had never seen him, and ventures "Johnny are you talking to Ali lately?"

"Not a word for thirty-something years."

"Then why should she send you an advent calendar? She doesn't even live in the same city as us."

Johnny sighs like he's dealing with an idiot. Which is fair. "Women can never forget someone like me."

"She left you! She hated you!" and then with his annoying voice "Oh don't get distracted this scene is particularly funny!" (it isn't)

Johnny ignores him. "She probably wanted to apologize to me in some way with that radio."

"But it was you who broke it!" and then in a low voice convinced that Johnny can't hear him "My God this guy is really an asshole."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being a little jealous. The fact that she didn't send you an advent calendar doesn't mean Ali didn't care about you, she just can't forget me. Try this guy once..."

Daniel throws candy canes in his face.

"Hey ... do you want to stay over?" LaRusso asks him when the film ends. "It's quite late and I don't know how much you've been drinking."

It's not particularly late and Johnny hasn't drunk more than on a normal day of the week. LaRusso's sofa bed isn't even particularly comfortable, even though the sheets always smell good and the pancakes he makes don't really suck (and he's even stopped insisting that Johnny try some kind of tea that tastes like pureed grass). There are Christmas on the front door, which he hates. He really has no reason to stay.

Johnny fakes a yawn. He stays.

The next morning he writes a message to Ali to thank her for the advent calendar on facebook.

He writes to LaRusso "To be honest the Grinch never hated the Christmas, he hated the people, which is fair."

Ali replies "Johnny, what are you talking about? Why should I give you a gift?"

LaRusso replies "You are such an ass. Do you want to help me decorate the tree tonight? "

"Of course I don't want it. Why? Are you too short to put the baubles on it?" He texts back.

"I have beers and we can try the new pizzeria around the corner."

He replies ""Okay but if you're going to put on that ridiculous sweater with the deer and the lights again, I'll have to fight you to get it off."

"It's a reindeer not a deer, for God's sake. And you have a funny way to try to undress your dates, Lawrence."

It's a joke of course. A lame one. It's not that he really wants to see LaRusso naked. Or that LaRusso is his date. (fuck fuck fuck)

He helps LaRusso with the Christmas tree. He doesn't even hate too much.

He doesn't text back to Ali.

After three more days of surprises in the advent calendar, he confronts Carmen.

She listens to him without saying a word but then her doubtful expression melts into a smile. It's a smile that Carmen reserves only for him and in which Johnny initially saw a lot of potential. He saw going out, a lot of sex, even a little romance. Now that the months have passed, including those in which Carmen didn't even speak to him at all, he has learned to see what is really behind that smile, that sweetness: family. They will never be in love but they will always be a family in some way.

"Johnny, my love these days I don't even have time to breathe at work, let alone prepare an advent calendar for someone." And then "Have you ever thought that there is someone else besides us who wants to make you happy?"

Johnny grumbles, replies by making silly allusions to some girl he's met and stuff like that. In front of Carmen's door, he finds himself thinking for the first time in months about his mother, about the way she always took care of him.

Carmen continues talking. "I heard that Robby will probably spend Christmas with his mom. We won't be home celebrating... Do you have someone to spend Christmas with? Otherwise we can try to organize something, I'm sure Miggy would like it."

Johnny thinks of the billionth text that LaRusso sent him to remind him to pack the gift for Robby.

"I'm okay." He replies.

The next day he finds an Atari console with Popeye on it in the advent calendar and it's a trip down memory lane. He liked video games when he was a kid, when he wasn't the popular guy at school yet. He liked listening to music, playing video games and forgetting Sid's remarks, the absence of a father, the lack of friends. Before, in a world where there was no karate, Kreese and Cobra Kai to get lost in. He had almost forgotten about those years, about that Johnny. He wonders what would happen to his life if he stayed that Johnny. Would Ali have stayed? (Or even more than that: would Ali notice and date someone like that Johnny?) Would the friends of the Cobra Kai want him? Would he have been a failure as a father? Would he and Daniel become friends? (he imagines: making lesson with Mr. Miyagi, play video games together, teach him to surf and stay to chill on the beach, listening some music with only one walkman, close, with legs touching)

When on December 18th he finds a portable mini golf (like the ones you see in B-movies, in the offices of successful managers) he invites LaRusso to his apartment to play with it only because he is unable to play something without turning it into a competition , in a fight. Not because he likes to see him. Daniel goes all "Oh" and "Thanks" when he sees that Johnny has put in the fridge all he needs for a martini cocktail and opens his giant brown doe eyes and Johnny doesn't know whether to feel like a shitty person or a fifteen year old on a first date. The only thing he's sure of is that he doesn't know what to do with these feelings. If he could he would kick them, fight them back to their corner because he's not sure he knows how to ignore them now that they're out. He is so angry. With himself, with LaRusso, with that stupid advent calendar and with Christmas too.

He kicks LaRusso's butt at portable mini golf and when it starts getting late he yawns and says he'll have to get up early the next day for some commitments. He doesn't offer LaRusso another drink, he doesn't ask him if he's too tired to stay. He falls asleep on the couch alone.

He goes out two nights in a row. At the bar a woman flirts with him. She is a hot babe, the kind of woman who might not listen to what she says (and who wouldn't listen to what Johnny says) but whose boobs he would surely remember. The kind of woman to have a drink and have a fuck with without either of them looking for more. It would be so easy, he thinks.

Miguel asks "Are you not going out with Mr.LaRusso tonight?" as if he was used to doing it every Sunday, after Daniel saw his kids.

In the advent calendar he finds a small cobra (a fake one, not a real cobra because it would be scary and...deadly probably) with a headband. Seeing the band on the cobra's head doesn't make him think of Ali for the first time in thirty-five years.

Daniel texts him. "Are you all right? Have you become the Grinch?"

He doesn't reply.

On the phone, a delivery boy asks for confirmation of the address to deliver the shopping for Christmas dinner with Robby. Dinner he obviously wouldn't have ordered had it been for him.

Daniel texts him "Remember to take the food out of the fridge two hours before the dinner."

He doesn't reply.

Daniel texts him. "Asshole." (Is he? Probably. Maybe he should have texted him "coward" it suited him more.)

Strike first strike first strike first.

The thing is: Johnny isn't an idiot. Of course he is an idiot in some way, but it's not really the point. He knows with every fiber of his body that this is probably the closest thing he will get to a relationship. Even to be in love. The problem is that everything Johnny knows about love is what he lived in a two-year relationship with a girl, with which he didn't even get along very well, when he was sixteen. After that nothing, he got stuck.

And then he doesn't know what to do with these feelings, he doesn't know how to match his idea of love (that of a sixteen year old with too many hormones, always too angry and so lost) with this sense of intimacy, with this warmth. He doesn't know how to explain  to the sixteen year old Johnny who came home angry and wanted to kick LaRusso's butt who maybe, maybe they could be in love with that ridiculous man in the deer sweaters who drives them crazy, makes them question all the choices of their lives and reminds them to buy tree scissors for their son and looks at them with those giant doe eyes that make their knees tremble.

Not to mention the tiny detail that that love may very well not be reciprocated because LaRusso is an idiot.

It would be so easy to strike first. Buy that girl a drink in the pub, turn off the phone, have a good fuck. It would be so easy.

Robby says "Thanks dad, they are great" when he opens the scissors.  Robby chews his food and says "It tastes amazing, a lot better than when you try to cook!" And then smiles, like a kid, like a young man ready to conquer the world, to open up to the world and not as a boy with whom his parents have failed many times, who has months of juvie behind him and a lot of therapy sessions to deal with. Johnny looks at him and he's so happy and he feels so bad that he doesn't deserve it that he just wants to punch something. Or drink too many beers and fall into a coma.

"Are you okay, dad?" Robby asks.

It would be so easy.

"Have you ever thought that there is someone who wants to make you happy?"

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.

("Asshole")

LaRusso is still in his pajamas pants when he opens the door. Since he and Amanda got divorced he has let his hair grow slightly and now they are all messed up on his head and he looks silly.

"I expected you were already dressed to go to work." Says to him.

LaRusso yawns and snorts. "I expected you to respond to my messages." but then adds with a note of concern in his voice "Are you okay? Did something happen with Robby?"

Johnny waves in front of him the replica of the All Valley tournament trophy, still partially wrapped, with the number 24 sticking out among the paper.

He reads aloud "World's second best sensei. You are such an arrogant prick."

LaRusso stares at him with a smug look and says "Well it takes one to know one." and  "I was referring to Mr. Miyagi, dumbass."

And now he's an asshole.

LaRusso bursts out laughing and Johnny seriously wants to beat him.

"" You ... You are impossible! You are so annoying and you do things like this and I can't stand you! ".

Daniel raises an eye brown. "It looks like you can, instead."

"And you can never shut up, you are unbearable! You get under my skin like some fungus! Nobody makes me feel like that."

Because it is true. He's not sure if he likes it but no one will ever make him feel that way. Nobody before, nobody after. In Johnny's life there will always be a before and after Daniel LaRusso. Not that he'll ever tell that prick who already thinks he's better than everyone else and definitely doesn't need someone to pump his ego even more.

"Hey, hasn't anyone ever taught you just to say thank you when someone gives you a gift?"

"No one has ever taught me a lot of things." And he thinks of Kreese.

LaRusso takes a step in his direction by invading his space and takes his hands (which are still holding the trophy so in reality the scene is more awkward than romantic).

"Yet you have learned so much anyway." He smiles at him, with a smile different from the one of the commercials, more open, more sincere. "And you're teaching a lot of right things to your students too. Under all that No Mercy bullshit you're teaching them a lot. It wasn't a joke, the trophy. I mean it."

Johnny thinks she could almost kiss him. Then he remembers one thing.

"How did you know about the Atari console? I didn't even know you when I was playing video games."

Daniel lights up, like a magician ready to reveal a trick to his audience. "That? Robby told me. Apparently you told him once when you were drunk and sad. He also told me which bootleg you were missing and helped me get some packages. I could have asked Miguel probably but Sam says he can't keep a secret to save his life and I didn't want to risk him revealing my identity. Of course I couldn't think you thought of Ali first than me. He laughs, his eyes shine. "Anyway I could have asked a lot of people. You may not know but there are a lot of people who care about you and would like to make you happy. When you are not busy being an asshole or pushing others away because you are scared it's very easy to care for you, Johnny Lawrence. "

"Have you ever thought that there is someone who wants to make you happy?"

Johnny pins him against the front door and kisses him and for a moment LaRusso freezes and doesn't reciprocate and Johnny thinks he shall punch him because there is no possibility that he has misread this situation. Then Daniel melts into the kiss and kisses him back and it's the opposite of what he imagined when he was sixteen. It's not a battle, it's meeting halfway. It's not a fight, it's peace, it's like coming home and finding a new home at the same time.

Daniel starts laughing in the kiss and Johnny is forced to pull back slightly before he can suffocate and die which wouldn't be a very bright way to start this phase of his life.

"What now?"

LaRusso smiles as if he has discovered some secret and murmurs on his neck "You didn't need the mistletoe at the end."

Johnny sighs because he is an idiot and then kisses him again. He feels giddy, happy.

Daniel budges away from him, without breaking the embrace.

"You know, under these pajamas pants I have some Christmas boxers with a reindeer." He raises an eyebrow "I'm telling you because maybe, maybe you still want to fight me to make me take them off like you did with the sweater."

"Has this atrocious line ever worked with anyone?"

"I don't know, is it working?"

Johnny opens the door "Let's go inside."

[shes-an-oddbird]

Christmas at River’s End Mall

Summary -  A Christmas AU in which everyone navigates their seasonal jobs, relationships and Christmas spirit, or lack there of, through woven together tales inspired by holiday prompts.

Chapter 8 - Letters to Santa

Summary - Daniel and Daisy discuss what they would ask for if they were to write letters to Santa.

Prompt - Letters to Santa Relationship - Daniel x Daisy (More Dousy!) POV - Daniel

Daniel was good with words and tactful answers. He could come up with kind replies that were reassuring but vague about what kids might get for Christmas. So who better to write replies from Santa?

Maybe the guy with an old typewriter that gives the letters from Santa an authentic look and feel?

But that was still him.

Daniel had quickly been promoted from Elf who didn’t have a clue what was going on, to Elf in charge of answering all of Santa’s mail. It’s not such a bad assignment, Daniel thinks, deciphering the scribbled requests for ponies and play stations. It certainly beats reading half-assed essays from his students. And the company wasn’t bad either. Although it was a solo gig most of the time, every slow moment she had, when the lines had dwindled and the chairs sat empty, Daisy would plop down in the seat next to him, ready to help with her laptop open and a software program that replicated the look of a typewriter.

While she knocked out two or three letters, she would tease him about his lack of Christmas knowledge. His library of holiday music had already received an overhaul. Daisy programmed the radio this time of year for the best mix of old and new and anytime he didn’t recognize one she would give him the title and artist and request a rating in return. He liked the jazzy ones best. And he still hummed along to the classics, but he would admit some of the remakes were good too.

Movies were still on hold.

Though not said in so many words it had been agreed they would watch the ever-growing list of Christmas flicks together. She warned him of her snack hogging and commentary but he assured her that was part of the reason he preferred to watch with others. The only problem was, she simply didn’t have the time.

It often seemed like just as quickly as she would sit down, Daisy would have to jump back up. She kept the kids in line to meet Santa happy, ran around fetching supplies for the craft tables, he had even watched anxiously as she eyed an altercation at a nearby clothing store but before she could react, mall security had arrived.

They’d gotten faster in the last few days.

“How are you holding up?” Daisy asks, not even bothering to sit this time, just leaning against the table he worked at.

Daniel shook his head in disbelief. “You haven’t sat down since you got here and you’re asking me?”

“My coffee is wearing off, if I sit I might not get back up again.” He understands, his students walked around in the same caffeine driven frenzy around finals. Daisy managed to look more put together but he could see the exhaustion in her eyes. “Seriously though, I’ve been on this job before, how many kids asked for cell phones?”

Its like she read his mind. “Fifteen just today and some of them were very specific, not to sound like an old man but I looked up this smart watch and it cost more than my first car.”

She grins back at him, “You’re not wrong, but you definitely sound like a ‘back in my day’ old man.”

“Daisy! We need help!”

Across the North Pole a group of teen volunteers were working on a banner for their parade float, the tallest of them is waving her over.

“I’m coming!” She calls back and quickly turns to him. “Coffee break in a little while?”

“Sure.”

As she goes, she crosses paths with Elena who is making her way towards the table. “The brilliant honor students over there spelled Christmas wrong and are arguing about how to fix it.”

“I’m on it.”

Daniel prepares the small pile of Santa’s Letters that had been written in Spanish and slides them over to her as she takes a seat.

“Does she ever slow down?” Daniel asks, nodding at Daisy’s retreating back.

Elena laughs clearly amused by the suggestion. “This time of year, no, and that’s saying something coming from me.”

“Why do you say this time of year?”

“Daisy already throws her whole self into whatever she’s doing, but in case you haven’t noticed she’s a little loco about Christmas.”

“No kidding.” Her knowledge of all things Christmas was extensive and he joked that she should teach a class on it. She didn't look like a typical Christmas crazy person, with a wardrobe of ugly Christmas sweaters and headbands with reindeer ears. Although she did dutifully wear the elf hat that distinguished the volunteers. She was the first to arrive and the the last to leave and always had a smile on her face when working with guests.

“She met May here,” Elena tells him, “when she was still just a kid at the orphanage and they bonded, I should probably let her tell you but that’s why she so invested in this event and in Christmas.”

That did explain her dedication.

***

Daisy places her coffee down on the table in between them and he is so distracted by the way she has pulled her sweater sleeves down over her hands that he almost misses her question.

“So what would be on your list for Santa?”

“What?”

“Your list?” She asks again, “If you wrote one today, what would be on it?”

He has to take a moment to think about it. He hadn’t asked Santa for anything since he was a little kid and his parents hadn’t asked him what he wanted in at least a decade. He tended to be very practical and, aside from purchasing books he didn’t have time to read, he didn’t have frivolous wants. There were always things to ask for of course but the number one thing would certainly bring down the mood. “Do you want the honest answer or the one that can go under the tree?”

Her smile softens. “Either.”

He laughs quietly. One of the jazzy Christmas songs he enjoys comes on over the radio and it hits him what he’d really like to do. “When I was a kid my parents taught me and my sisters how to dance, like really dance, my mom is an instructor and my dad learned how so he could impress her, used to be a lot of fun.”

Daisy looks back at him in surprise, “I wasn’t expecting that, but also I’m not completely shocked.” Her expression becomes curious, “can’t you? you seem to get around okay but I guess dancing is a little different?”

He shifts his leg, stretching it out under the table. “I haven’t since, I’m guessing I’m a bit clumsier than I used to be, might be tricky to find a partner.”

Daisy rolls her eyes. “Oh yeah, I'm sure it would be a real struggle being all handsome and funny and smart.”

“So what about you?” He asks quickly, to redirect their conversation off of him.

“Sorry?”

“What would you put on your list?” He clarifies.

“Oh,” she leans back in her chair, “I don’t know, everyone usually gives me Christmas ornaments, which I love but I don’t have to ask for them.”

“But from Santa? the magical being who can grant any request, be honest.” He encourages because he really wants to know, even if its not something that you can just stick a bow on.

“Honestly?" She paused and then lets out a little laugh. "I want, like eight more hours in my day.”

“Elena did say you’re always on the go this time of year.”

“I don’t want to miss a second of it.”

“No but are you really enjoying it?” He asks because as busy as she is he can't imagine she has time to actually time to relish in the time of year that means so much to her. She sighs heavily and he watches her shoulders sag slightly in uncertainty. She glances down at the coffee cup that’s probably empty by now.

“Do you still want to see the lights from the roof?” She asks suddenly.

“If you’re not busy.”

“I mean you’re right, the lights are my favorite part of Christmas and I haven’t even been up to see them, I'll just have to make the time, tonight?” He thinks maybe there is a way he can help with that. “Let’s get some refills and get back.”

They step up to the counter and Bobbi grabs the pot of coffee off the machine. “What do you want for Christmas?” Daisy asks and Bobbi rolls her eyes.

“That’s not how secret santa works.”

“No one said I got you.”

“Dais – “

“Seriously, we were just talking about Christmas lists, Bobbi, Elena, Jemma and I do a gift exchange every year.” Daisy explains.

“Unavoidable, we started the year I opened the coffee shop, it was that or everyone was getting coupons.”

“That reminds me, my friend, the one who can get you the part for your espresso machine, he’ll be here tomorrow for the parade, I asked him to come by if you’ve got the time?”

“You’re serious?” Bobbi lights up.

“His name’s Antoine Triplett, should be by around three.”

“Great, I’ll be here.”

***

Daniel spends the rest of the day trying to save Daisy as much time as possible. He finishes up the last of Santa’s letters and proceeds to help her with every mundane task assigned to her. Supply runs, glitter spills, crying kids, anything that can be considered more work than fun, he’s there to lighten the load.

He thinks it startles her a few times, when she goes to collect the broom and he’s already there with it in his hands.

At the end of the day they get everything cleaned up in record time. They’re just pulling on their coats and she’s explaining the back stairs they have to take up to the roof when Daisy’s best friend Jemma comes running up to them.

“Daisy, you’re here still here,” she chokes out, trying to catch her breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need your help, I took this huge order, I’m wrapping all of this woman’s Christmas gifts, there are at least a hundred of them.”

“That’s great!” But Jemma’s already shaking her head, still holding a stitch in her side.

“I might have accidently used a bit of paper with some writing on it to wrap one of the gifts.”

“Writing?” Daniel asks.

Jemma's blushes. “I use the scrap paper to write notes to Fitz and when I was cleaning up and I realized one of the notes was gone, I think I used it on one of the smaller gifts.”

“Okay, okay calm down, we can fix this, we’ll just unwrap the gifts and rewrap them.”

This doesn't calm her down. "She’s picking them up tomorrow after the parade, I’ve spent all day on them, she requested very specific papers and I have to be at the lab in less than an hour!”

Daniel watches as the gears turn in Daisy's mind, searching for a solution. She looks from the stairwell, to him and back to Jemma. “Okay, you go to your lab, I’ll get started unwrapping them, find the damn note and just come back when you done and help me finish rewrapping them.”

Jemma looks near tears. She throws her arms around Daisy in a tight hug before backing away. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, look for all the gifts under the name Samuels”

Daisy turns back to him. “I’m sorry, I guess this postpones our plans again.”

“Its okay, do you want some help?”

“You don’t have to.”

“We’ll get it done in half the time with two of us, just until Jemma gets back and she can take over.”

“Alright, um, the parade, its in the morning, were you going to come watch?”

“I was probably just going to watch it on the TV but I can make a change of plans.”

“Its not the same as the lights, but we can watch it from the roof, you can see it go on for miles.”

“Sounds great.”

[ofhoneyandrosepetals]

Summer Roads - Chapter 3

Pairing: Sean x Fem! reader

Description: You’ve always been Lyla’s best friend, but since Sean moved you became an inseparable trio. But who could say that, after all these years together, you would start growing feelings for Sean?

Warning: swearings only.

Word count: 2.049

A/N: is it allowed to use the same gif from the first chapter? I think so lol it just gives the best Sean’s vibes.

“I need to get some stuff first,” Sean said as you got near Lyla’s place.

“Yeah, me too,” you said.

“Okay then, I’ll prepare things. And by that I mean my mom,” Lyla responds.

“But she loves us,” you say frowning.

“Even so,” Lyla shrugs.

“Care if I go with you to pick your stuff up? I need to give Daniel that thing I promised,” you ask Sean.

“Yeah, cool. I’ll go with you to pick up your stuff too,” you were too busy looking at Sean to notice the look on Lyla’s face. “I need to give that board a new update.”

Hearing this made your heart pound a little - Sean meant the little whiteboard you had in your room for important notes, but those important notes turned out to be Sean’s drawings. Sometimes he would draw something simple, and other times he would make something clever and funny. It was a nice Easter egg feeling - you never knew what was coming. 

*

At your house, you grabbed your sleeping bag and old clothes to use as pajama. A little necessaire followed the pack as well. 

“Shit, I don’t know where I put it…” you thought out loud.

“That thing for Daniel?” Sean turned his head from the whiteboard. “What is it, anyway?”

“A stuffed animal…” you say focused in your search, looking behind pillows and under the bed.

“A stuffed animal? You do know he’s seven already, right?” Sean said with a grin.

“Sorry, I forgot my basic math lessons,” he chuckled in response. “It’s Power Bear, but since I don’t play with it for a long time I asked Daniel if he wanted it.”

“Of course he did.”

“I think it’s cute a seven year old boy still wants a stuffed animal.”

“Daniel is always cute,” Sean said in a low tone and you thought you felt a little resentment there. Shrugging the feeling off, you focus yourself once again in your search. “Try in the corner by the window. Where the toy chest is. You always lost things there as a kid.”

“But I don’t have any toy in there anymore,” you say as you open the chest.

Sean, once finished with the drawing, grims and goes to the toy chest, moves it a little bit and then raises his eyebrows at you. You roll your eyes, knowing what was behind there.

“Thanks,” you say as you get the stuffed Power Bear.

“At your service. Are you all packed up? I mean, I don’t want to rush you or anything…”

“Nah, I’m good. Just lemme grab some chips.”

“Don’t you dare let Lyla hear this.”

“Cheetos are not chips,” you imitate her. Sean laughs.

“They really are not.”

“I know, but I just can't stop saying it that way. But I don’t have Cheetos, anyway. It’s Doritos.”

“We didn’t had that discussion yet.”

“And I don’t look forward to have it. Let’s go.”

Before going out of your room you give a quick look to Sean’s update on your board. He made a drawing of the two of you at the skate ramp.

“That’s really nice,” you point out. “But where’s Lyla?”

“The little dot back there,” you laugh.

“We agree to not let her see this, right?”

“You bet.”

*

Arriving at Sean’s house, Daniel storms out of his room.

“Did you bring Y/N? That’s so cool! Is she sleeping here?” Daniel says all excited.

“Hey, goofball,” you greet him. “I brought ya something.”

“Really? What is it, what is it?” The little boy starts bouncing. You pull out the stuffed Power Bear and Daniel goes wild. “Wooooow…! That Power Bear you told me about!” He said in amazement. “Oh, he’s fluffy,” he chuckles after he pokes the toy.

“It’s yours, you do know that, right?” You say to him. Daniel gives a shy look.

“I remember you said so.”

“He was just afraid that you’ve might forgotten. Or changed your mind,” Sean said.

“I was not!”

“Yes you were.”

“Oh, here we go,” you breathes out. “Danny? It’s yours.”

“Yay!” He grabs the toy and hugs your legs - actually what he can reach at his height.

“What do you say…?”

“Thanks!” Daniel say as he run to his room again.

“I swear that sometimes…” Sean begins to say, but you put a hand on his arm.

“That’s fine, Sean. He’s a kid.”

“I know, I know… it’s just… sometimes it’s hard to live with him everyday.”

“That muffin? You joking me?”

“Wanna trade?”

“I’m hearing this,” Daniel’s head appear outside his room, pouting.

“Good,” Sean says. “Is dad home?”

“Garage.”

“I’ll just let him know that we’ll be sleeping over at Lyla,” of course you paid attention to the whole phrase, but the we got to stick for a little longer.

“I’ll go with you.”

You enjoyed the Diaz garage, even though you didn’t understand shit about cars or knew what tools were those.

“Hey! If it isn’t Y/N,” Esteban greets you.

“Hi, Esteban,” you wave a shy hand at him. “How you doing?”

“Just good,”

“Hey, dad,” Sean interrupts. “We’re gonna have a sleepover at Lyla, is that okay?”

“Sure, mijo,” suddenly worry takes over Estaban’s face. “Y/N, I think your knee is bleeding.”

“Oh,” you completely forgot about your injury. “It’s fine, it’s just a scratch. I tripped with my roller skate, but luckily Sean was my superhero.”

“Was he?” You didn’t know if it was because of your crush on Sean, but you could swear for everything in this world that Esteban’s eyes sparkled a little. Maybe.

“Hey, let’s cut it out,” Sean says, his hand scratching his head. 

“But I’m not gonna let you leave my house until someone takes care of that scratch,” Esteban says.

“There’s no need to, really.”

“I’ll do it,” Sean says quickly. Esteban was smiling.

“Really?” You ask.

“Yeah, c’mon. Things are in the bathroom.”

*

Going upstairs, you insist to Sean that there’s is no need to take care of your knee.

“Let me just clean it then, you can’t go around while a bloody knee.”

“Actually I thought we were doing just fine,” walking in front of you, you didn’t need to look at his face to know Sean rolled his eyes. It was a thing that you could even hear. 

You sat on the edge of the bathtub, waiting for Sean as he looked in the cabinet for the things he needed, trying not give away your nervousness. He’s just going to clean your scratch, it’s not a big deal. Lyla could do the same thing, you kept thinking to yourself.

“What’s on your mind? You look so thoughtful,” you heard Sean’s voice. 

“Oh,” you jumped on your seat. “Nothing, nothing. I was just… zoning out.”

“I’m kinda nervous about this, I don’t wanna hurt you,” you could see Sean’s hands wasn’t as steady as they used to be, but you believed him, innocently. 

“You won’t hurt me, at least not as much as I already am,” he smiled.

“I’m not one to brag, but sometimes I take care of Daniel’s scratches as well.”

“So it’s in your résumé,” you say jokingly. Sean only smiled, since he started cleaning your knee attentively.

You swallowed dry as you kept your attention on him. Sean was being very serious on his task, but his hands were a little shaky indeed. You could barely feel the liquid burning on your skin, and you give the credits for that to your fucked up feelings. Maybe Sean’s hands had something to do with it too - they were hands of an artist, after all. He knew how to be delicate.

“How does it feel?” He asks.

“It’s fine. I’m not feeling it much.”

“I’m all finished here, just lemme put a bandage.”

“I don’t need it, Sean,” you protest.

“At least for today, Y/N,” since you don’t answer, Sean looks up at you. He holds your look. “I know you’re stubborn, but only for today,” you don’t give up on your principles. Sean takes a deep breath. “Gosh, you’re just like Daniel sometimes. Please, Y/N,” Sean pressures the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his patience. 

But there was no time for anything else, because a little goofball stormed inside the bathroom, holding stuffed Power Bear and another toy you didn’t recognize.

“Swooooosh,” Daniel made the toys fly. “You will never catch me, Power Bear!”

“Daniel!” Sean shouted.

“I’ll call my reinforcements!”

“Daniel!” Sean tried again, but Daniel came up to running around the bathroom.

“There is it!” Daniel pointed a stuffed Power Bear to you. “My reinforcements are here! Prepare to lose!” Daniel ran to your direction, knocking you down inside the bathtub.

“Oh my god,” you say laughing as Daniel fell on top of you, his little arms tangled in yours.

��Daniel!” Sean kept trying.

“You’ll never beat me, Power Bear!” Daniel sat on top of you and started playing with his toys again.

“For fuck sake, Daniel!” Sean lost it, his voice raising tones and more tones. You looked surprised at him, as well as Daniel, who turned. “Get out of her…”

“You never let me have fun!” Daniel complained.

“You always have all the fun, Daniel! Now get out.”

“But I wanna play with Y/N…”

“She can’t, she’s hurt.”

“Sean…” you try to reason.

“Really? Where?” Daniel started turning your head, looking for anything. You giggled.

“I scratched my knee, goofball. But I’m fine, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“See, Sean? She says she’s fine.”

“Still need a bandage, though,” Sean says pouting.

“Oh, you can have one of mine! It has Hawt Dawg Man!”

“That’s neat, Danny. Would you put it for me?”

“Yes!” Daniel leaves the bathtub and goes to his room. Sean gives you a hand to get up.

“I can’t fucking believe him…”

“Shh, he’s coming.”

“Here! See?, it’s big. I’ll put upside down so you can see Hawt Dawg Man.”

“Thanks, dude,” you ruffled his hair. 

“Any reinforcements of Power Bear is my friend too.”

“Oh, so I was the reinforcement?”

“We gotta go to, Daniel. Say bye to her as I get my stuff.”

*

“I can’t believe it,” Sean complains as you two go down the street.

“Sean, you need to be more understanding with him.”

“I know, but it’s so hard. And you don’t make it easier too. I was trying my ass off to put a bandage on you and you only accept when Daniel suggests it,” you would be lying if you said that Sean’s words didn’t hurt you a bit. On normal times this wouldn’t affect you, but now everything is different.

“I’m sorry, Sean, but your brother is just the cutest thing.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I’m sorry I upset you.”

“What?” Sean looked at you surprised. “You… you didn’t upset me, not exactly.”

“So what is it?”

“It’s… I don’t know, it’s nothing,” he shrugged.

“You don’t need to be jealous of Daniel.”

“I’m not,” he says as he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, right,” you say ironically and put a hand on his shoulder. “But thank you for taking care of my knee. If you had offered me a bandage of Hawt Dawg Man before maybe I would’ve accepted way sooner.”

“So that’s what it was all about, huh?” Sean grinned.

“Sure.”

It wasn’t news that sometimes Sean would be jealous of Daniel when he got in the middle of you and Lyla, trying to get your attention and playing with you. You never had a sibling to know how the feeling was and what really happened there, but today it was a little weird, if you could say so.

Maybe Sean got angry because Daniel started to make a mess, but you thought it was so adorable that you could never think that. You frowned as you stared at the asphalt. 

“You’re zoning out again. What’s up with you?”

“I’m just looking at my new awesome bandage,” you lie.

“With that look? I would say you’re trying to make it disappear,” you laugh and slaps his arm with the back of your hand. 

“C’mon let’s just go to Lyla’s. She’s probably wondering why are we taking so long.”

“I’ll blame Daniel for that.”

“Of course you will, Big Brother of the Year.”

[chilling-seavey]

Can you please do a blurb where Daniel and Florence and the girls go to Disneyland or an amusement park or something!

I love this idea omg thank you! I think this turned out as one of my favourites!! I was going to do Disneyland but I’ve never been so I won’t be able to write accurately but I will take this lovely idea and write it more local...

As usual, I had an inspo photo... (minus the baby powder obviously lol)

Canada’s Wonderland was the place for good adventures for any age group. When Daniel moved to Toronto for school, he and his friends visited the theme park a few times (until their money ran out and they were stuck eating ramen for a week before the got another set of paycheques), so when the girls were old enough, Daniel made sure the family could go themselves. The girls had never been to a theme park before – even Clementine who was already nine-and-a-half – so when summer came around, Daniel and Florence dug into their entertainment savings to take the girls out for a day.

It was a 45 minute drive north to the park, the girls in the backseat dressed in shorts and t-shirts with little ball-caps on their tied back hair, running shoes swinging back and forth with excitement and they all sang along messily to the music through the speakers. Daniel paid for parking and they found an empty spot way too far away from the entrance, but it was to be expected on a weekend in July. The girls were slathered with sunscreen by Daniel, as Florence took the wagon from the trunk and stocked it with water bottles and the backpack full of supplies they might need for the day. Lucy climbed right in excitedly, her tiny sunglasses perched on her nose and Florence buckled her in.

They waited in line a while to get through security check and get the girls’ bracelets so they knew what rides they could go on based on their height for safety. Penelope and Lucy sat in the wagon together, looking around the park at the waterfall and huge (man-made) mountain at the end of the reflecting pool that was shooting water in fancy twirls.

“Where are we gong first?” Clementine asked, skipping to get ahead with her hand in Florence’s to try and pull her along faster.

“We’ll start small, okay?” Daniel chuckled at her excitement, pulling the wagon behind him.

They made their way across the crowded park to the kids’ area. Penelope stuck in the wagon at first, watching her sisters go from little ride to little ride (Lucy going on the tiny airplanes twice because she loved it so much). Daniel and Florence took turns going with the girls and staying with the wagon. Penelope finally let Daniel convince her to go on the merry-go-round with him and she absolutely loved sitting on the metal horse beside his own, watching the world spin around them. That was sort of her gateway and she tried a few other little things around the park before lunch.

They all stopped for slices of pizza (which cost a ridiculous amount of money), the outdoor fans not doing much against the summer heat and Daniel ended up fanning the girls with his paper plate to try and cool them down as they ate.

“Why don’t we look at other rides?” Clementine suggested. “The kid rides are boring.”

“We can see what else is around.” Florence agreed, passing her a napkin to wipe her face.

“Bored already, are you, angel?” Daniel chuckled.

“I want to go on the biggest roller coaster!” Clementine said loudly.

“I don’t know if you’re tall enough.” Daniel said. Clementine frowned at him.

When lunch finished, the family left the kids’ zone and found slightly bigger rides for the older two girls to try. The roller coaster through the mountain was a hit for Clementine but the lights and the screams as the ride went into the dark were not fun for Penelope and she came off crying and clinging onto Daniel, embarrassed as strangers stared at her.

“It wasn’t scary, Nell.” Clementine tried to reason with her sister as she walked beside them, Penelope’s face buried in Daniel’s neck. “It was just a pretend dragon.”

“There was a dragon?” Penelope’s head shot up with fear in her eyes.

“Okay, go run to Mommy.” Daniel nudged Clementine ahead of them and she took off across the walkway to where Florence was waiting with the wagon and Lucy. When the family was back together, Daniel set Penelope in the wagon as she was almost eight and was getting a bit big to be carried for long, and he pet her sweaty hair back from her face and handed her a water bottle, “Just take a bit of a breather, okay, bug?”

Penelope nodded, taking the water from him and took a small sip, wiping her eyes with her free hand.

Daniel stood up and slid an arm around Florence’s shoulders, “No more pushing limits today.”

“I agree.” Florence chuckled lightly, glancing back at their middle daughter with the drying tears on her flushed cheeks.

Of course, that didn’t last for long as they passed the biggest roller coaster in the park and Clementine was screaming, “That one! I wanna ride this one!”

“That one is way too big, Clemmy.” Florence said.

“No, it’s not! I have the teal bracelet and the sign says teal bracelet and the orange bracelet can ride!” Clementine pointed to the sign at the entrance to the queue. She whipped back around to her parents. “Please, can I go?!”

“I don’t know, angel. Why don’t we work our way up to it?” Daniel suggested, biting lightly at his bottom lip as he stared up at the copper coloured metal track that reached into the sky and dipped down into a 90-degree free fall.

“No! Daddy, please!” Clementine begged, wrapping her hands around his arm.

“I think it’s Mommy’s turn to take you.” Daniel looked to Florence.

“I can’t; I just had a baby.” Florence shrugged, gesturing to Lucy.

“Four years ago.” Daniel gaped.

“I can go by myself!” Clementine suggested.

“No!” both parents said quickly.

“This one goes upside down, you know that, right?” Daniel asked his daughter.

“Yes!” Clementine grabbed his hand in both of hers and tried to pull him towards the lineup. “Please, Daddy! Please!”

Daniel closed his eyes a moment and groaned, “Okay, fine.”

“Yay!” Clementine took off into the queue, leaving Daniel to take off his baseball hat and hand it to his wife.

“If I never see you again, I love you.” Daniel whispered, kissing her once.

“Have fun.” Florence chuckled, tucking her finger in the collar of his black tank top and pulled him in for one more kiss.

“Daddy!” Clementine shrieked.

“Coming, angel.” Daniel called back, rushing after her to line up, ruffling a hand through his hair that had been matted down by his hat. It was about a thirty-minute wait; the entire time with Daniel spent making himself more and more nervous. He hated holding in emotions in front of his daughters, but he didn’t want Clementine to think that he wasn’t as brave as she was…not to mention as brave as the other older dads around them that seemed completely calm.

Thankfully, they didn’t get the front seat and they were stuck in the middle which was perfectly fine with Daniel. He made sure Clementine was properly buckled in (twice) and checked himself a couple times too even before the worker came by to do the official check of the seatbelts and restraints. Clementine looked so small behind the over the shoulder restraints and Daniel could only pray that he wasn’t being a terrible father by letting her do this.

Soon, the train was given the go ahead and they took off towards the hill. Daniel kept glancing at Clementine on his left, her legs kicking excitedly as they dangled over the track, trying to keep himself as still as humanly possible. Now Daniel wasn’t scared of much, he wasn’t even overly scared of roller coasters either, but this 90-degree angle and the longest, fastest, tallest roller coaster in the world that did not sit right with him.

The train reached the top of the hill and paused, dangling over the side for a moment.

“Oh gosh, Clementine-” Daniel whispered shakily, barely finishing his sentence before they went over the edge. The nine-year-old was screaming at the top of her lungs and Daniel was honestly right there with her, saying a few words he was not proud of when they hit the loops.

By the time the ride stopped and they got out at the station, Daniel was a mess, trying to stabilize his legs, but Clementine was laughing loudly and running ahead to their family. With Florence and her sisters in sight, Clementine took off faster towards them.

“Daddy said a bad word!” Clementine shrieked with laughter as she reached her mother. “He said lots of bad words!”

Florence looked up to her husband who was nearly wobbling out of the exit gate, looking a bit shaky and pale. He trudged over to them and draped himself over Florence with a groan.

“Wow. Such a good dad.” Florence smiled, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

“Daddy! That was so fun! Let’s go again!” Clementine tugged at his shirt.

“No, no.” Daniel waved her off gently as Florence draped his hat on his head again. “We’re going back to Lucy’s rides now, angel.”

“Ok, you can do that and I’ll stay here!” Clementine suggested.

“Clementine Ophelia, you’re going to give your father a heart attack.” Florence laughed. “Come on, we’ll all go share a funnel cake.”

By the time the day was over, Daniel finally felt a bit better and Clementine humoured him with less excessive roller coasters to fill their time. The park had nightly fireworks so they sat by the waterfall and watched the show as darkness fell. Lucy slept against Daniel’s shoulder as they headed back to the car, Penelope and Clementine waving their glowsticks around like they were wands, high on all the sugar they had during the day.

But the car ride brought silence, all three girls falling asleep in the backseat on the drive back to the city, Florence and Daniel listening to music quietly together in the front, hand in hand. Daniel glanced in the rear-view mirror at his daughters and then looked over his shoulder to look again at their peaceful sleeping faces before smiling over at Florence and raised her hand to his lips to press a kiss to her soft skin.

[jeannereames]

I’m sure you’ve been asked before but who would you cast as Alexander, Hephaistion, etc going off appearance alone?

Ahhh. Movie Alexander. First, sorry for the delay. I replied to this partly, Tumblr deleted it, and I was subsequently too busy to fix that.

I’ve been following the whole “road to ‘Alexander’” since the ‘90s, and wrote an article “The History of Alexander on the Big Screen” for Amphora in 2004, with the Stone film looming. What some who are fans of the movie don’t realize is that there were TWO competing attempts to bring ATG to the big screen, between Oliver Stone and Baz Luhrmann. Stone won. (It was a complicated process of funding, actors, etc.)

The two also had competing views. Luhrmann wanted to focus on ATG’s successes, have an “action film” with lots of battles. Stone wanted to do a biopic, which is what he finally produced.

Despite Stone’s (at best) tepid critical reception, I’m not sure Luhrmann’s would have been any better. Personally, I’m more interested in Alexander the man (as anybody who’s read Dancing with the Lion could guess), but I differ notably from Stone in who that was. Stone’s version displays his usual focus on “Daddy Issues,” and “Mommy Issues,” too, which largely reflect MODERN (not ancient) attitudes and a fair bit of (historically inappropriate) Freudian Stuff.

His film also owes a hell of a lot to Mary Renault, who he didn’t acknowledge. Some scenes (such as the snake scene with Olympias, child Alexander, and Philip at the beginning) are a direct Renault STEAL. It’s not in the ancient sources anywhere, only in Fire from Heaven. I consider the scene anachronistic/problematic, but it angers me that he used it SO precisely and didn’t acknowledge her. Likewise, the prominence of Bagoas in the film owes to The Persian Boy, not to actual ancient evidence. Frankly, I’m surprised Renault’s estate didn’t sue him.

(Probably a lost cause, due to how copyright works. But I like to emphasize what he owes her and didn’t acknowledge or pay for, because it irritates me so.)

For my own review of Stone’s flick, go HERE.

Anyway, back to the question. As for casting Alexander, I have argued since Day One in reporting on the movies that Alexander should be a complete unknown.

That is, do an old-fashioned cattle-call and avoid anybody much recognizable. Obviously, get a good actor, but not a “star.”

Why? We need to see the actor as Alexander, not as “____” playing Alexander. I disliked Colin Farrell as ATG, found him unconvincing, especially in “grand” scenes speechifying. By contrast, he’s fantastic in films with a narrower focus, such as The Phone Booth or Ondine; there, I absolutely love him. But he was, imo, totally wrong for Alexander. He’s intense, but doesn’t have the offhand, arrogant charisma of, say, Peter O’Toole (as Lawrence of Arabia)—which is what’s required.

Previous casting of Alexander followed the “relative unknown” principle. While today, when we watch Robert Rossen’s old 1956 “Alexander the Great” and see RICHARD BURTON as ATG, we tend to assume he was cast on purpose for star power. Actually, he wasn’t. Alexander was his first starring role! Rossen cast him because he wasn’t well known, then surrounded him with known stars: Fredrich March as Philip, Peter Cushing as Memnon, French superstar Danielle Darrieux as Olympias, and Claire Bloom as Barsine. Likewise, when William Shatner was cast as ATG in the TV-show pilot “Alexander the Great,” that was pre-Star Trek. He wasn’t famous. Haughty as hell (making him, imo, one of the best casts as Alexander!), but not famous.

GET AN UNKNOWN. No baggage. I might even suggest a theatre actor specifically for the ability to emote grande. 😊

Hephaistion: same advice. Get an unknown, make sure he has chemistry with the ATG cast.

As for looks, I do like the stock model the cover artist found for Alexander for my cover of Becoming (below). It’s a good match for the Akropolis head, although prettier than Alexander actually was. I think the Azara Herm is the best physical (realistic) representation of him.

As for Hephaistion, as I’ve said before, the Portuguese model Vick Correia is my personal “mental image” for Hephaistion, but I don’t think he’s an actor to be cast in a film. I’m sure there are other actors out there (good ones) who resemble him.

Let me also just add? If I could have “free cast” never mind if the person is dead?

Katherine Hepburn is absolutely MY version of Olympias! Watch The Lion in Winter. The way she played Eleanor is how Olympias OUGHT to be played, not as Stone directed Angelina Jolie. Ironically, Jolie could probably have played a much tougher, less sexual Olympias just fine. I blame Stone, not her.

[glorifiedpigeon]

Fluffuary - Fallin' For Ya

A prinxiety oneshot! Roman has a crush on the head costume designer at the theater. He's just a little stupid about it.

AO3

Virgil sighed and blew hair out of his face, moving his pencil over the page with a practised ease and experienced grace. He did everything with ease and grace, it seemed. Were Roman an artist, he would try his entire life to capture such beauty upon a canvas. He would spend eons crafting that face out of clay, chiseling stone to create to those hands.

Roman was, in a manner of speaking, an artist. But he did not paint or sculpt. He did not draw like beloved Virgil did. No, Roman sang. He danced, and acted.

And every day he watched Virgil, in the back of the theater, designing costumes for the characters.

"He's gorgeous," Roman sighed, looking over to his co-star in this month's production. Daniel huffed a laugh.

"You've said that many times. Why don't you just go talk to him?" Daniel suggested, fiddling with the scarf they were trying on his character today. Virgil had said any old scarf would do for now, so it was a bright, loud yellow.

"I can't do something like that! Virgil is- he's something special. I can't just walk up and address a god as though he were a common mortal," Roman scoffed at the idea and adjusted his blazer. Another placeholder costume piece.

"Virgil bleeds red, just like you or me," Daniel argued. Roman scoffed a second time, and Daniel nodded more insistently. "No, I'm serious, Roman. You're a bit too gay to notice, but if you and Virgil had even one conversation, you'd get on like a wildfire. The whole theater would be begging you to stop, and- you know what, don't talk to him."

"Reverse psychology won't work on me," Roman huffed, though he did feel a little more tempted to be contrarian now.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Yes, because that's definitely what I meant."

Virgil put down his pencil and flipped a few pages in his sketchbook before standing up. Roman perked, watching as the artist practically glided down the aisle towards the director.

"I finished the last of the designs, sir," Virgil said, in his low, husky voice. Roman sighed, placing a hand over his heart. Beside him, he heard Daniel scoff.

"Oh, good! How's the budget looking?" The director asked, already flipping through the designs. Roman craned his neck trying to get a look at what he might end up wearing.

"We should have enough leftover after buying supplies for anything we might need extra of," Virgil mused. The director stopped on a page.

"This looks a bit intricate to be that cheap," he commented.

"Ah- yeah, I got a little carried away with the character Francis? A more cost-effective version is on the other side," Virgil informed. Roman squeaked and turned to a particularly bored looking Daniel.

"I play Francis," he whispered, and Daniel snorted.

"Gee, I wonder why Virgil always gets carried away with your characters and no one else's?" Daniel pointed out. Roman scowled.

"You're just pissy because my lobsterback coat was better than yours," Roman pouted.

Daniel blinked. "You… are incredibly stupid."

"Hey!" Roman pouted. Daniel sighed and began walking to the side of the stage, where a set of stairs led to the ground. "No, don't leave right after insulting me, how da-AAH!"

Roman slipped right off the edge of the stage. Actors, stage crew, and even Daniel jolted into motion before freezing as Roman landed safely in the arms of the head costume designer. Roman stared with wide eyes at Virgil, who had caught him upon quick reflex and with shocking ease. The director sighed and waved his arms.

"It's fine, nothing to see here, get back to work!"

"Are you okay?" Virgil asked. Roman blushed.

"Yes. Though I will admit, I certainly fell for you," Romam blurted. Virgil's cheeks turned a pretty, pale pink.

"Wha-"

"It didn't even hurt to fall from heaven, though you're so hot you must have climbed straight out of hell," Roman was starting to word vomit. Oh god. Virgil smirked a little, and Roman's heart nearly burst.

"Did you hit your head or something?" Virgil asked.

"I don't think so, but if I said yes, would you try to kiss it better?" Roman asked.

"Oh my god, how do you function with all that gay stored in you?" Virgil snorted, and his laugh was so pretty Roman could just about die on the spot.

"Well, I can't help but be gay when the prettiest man in the world still hasn't let me out of his arms," Roman whined. "How are you not tired of holding me, you're an artist!"

Virgil blushed and let Roman get onto his feet, coughing politely into his shoulder. "So, do you just flirt with every guy that catches you when you fall."

"Only when they've been on my mind for the last three plays," Roman said smoothly, snagging the artist's hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, looking him directly in the eye.

"Really?" Virgil asked, raising one eyebrow. "I didn't think you knew me well enough to think about me so much."

"I tend to think about wanting to know you," Roman explained. "I have many questions."

Virgil smirked. "Well, maybe I can answer some of those questions. In the right place. Did you have anything in mind?"

Roman blanked. "Wait, are you suggesting a date?"

"God, you are dumb. Sunny's. Three o'clock. See you tomorrow," Virgil said, and off he went, taking with him the last of Roman's senses.

@tsshipmonth2020