#I had to come back so many times to make fixes because technology decided not to work for me today lmao

[copperbadge]

You know, I had thought that the old jokes about bad airline food, which were very common in the 1990s, had stopped mainly because airline food had gotten better. It had to have, right? As food technology and chemistry improved, we must have fixed that. I just couldn't know, because mostly I fly Southwest and rarely take a flight longer than about four hours, and Southwest just doesn't do meals.

But now I think probably it's just that airline food is much rarer. Even flights that would have had food twenty-five years ago (pre-9/11) now mostly don't. So it's not that the food is better, it's just rarer. The comedy is less relatable.

I will say that the mushroom tortellini I got in my "lunch" on this flight home was pretty edible, but when the tray was set in front of me I looked at the hardtack bread roll, the very basic salad with its little pot of bland yogurt dressing, and the tortellini in very scant tomato sauce, and I thought, I bet I can hack this. (It's kind of a conference trick of mine -- I have startled many a stranger at a conference breakfast buffet by producing from seeming nowhere a breakfast sandwich, and then informing them that they, too, can take a croissant from the pastry rack, eggs and sausage from the chafing dishes, and jam from the condiments, and make a breakfast sandwich fit for a king.)

Then I decided to write some fanfic of my own damn novels because Eddie Rambler has definitely done this, and if anyone can fix airline food it's him, and if anyone's going to be a willing accomplice, it's Noah "self-propelled trouble magnet and food garbage disposal" Deimos.

"Hey there, friends and fans and everyone keeping it new out there!" Eddie Rambler said, but unlike his usual Photogram openings, his voice was hushed -- not subdued, but much quieter than usual. "I'm coming to you from somewhere over the arctic, and pretty much everyone else is asleep, so I'm trying to keep quiet, which as everyone knows is for me quite an effort. And if you're wondering why I'm not my normal golden well-lit self, it's because I'm filming this in the first-class cabin of an airplane using ambient light and a phone flashlight for a spot." 

He leaned back, so that his face wasn't filling the camera anymore, and the rest of the room came into view: a tiny nook with a reclining airline seat. The arm was lifted, and Eddie was sitting sideways on the cushion; on the reclined back of the seat, next to him, Noah was perched, grinning impishly.

"Now, I couldn't sleep so Gregory kicked me out of our two-person cabin, and Noah here had a cabin to himself because his folks are sharing one and he's the odd man out, so he let me come in here to film. Friend of the gram Noah Deimos of course, NoahTheTerror -- " Eddie and Noah both pointed at the same empty space, where a link would later go to Noah's Photogram, "and I are both flying first-class for only the second time in our lives. When I traveled with Truly Tasty I was always on the bus because we had a lot of equipment, and Noah used to be a peasant -- "

"I'm still a peasant," Noah said. 

"You're a prince, kiddo."

"I'm a peasant prince," Noah insisted.

"I could kick you back to Economy," Eddie said, grinning at him. 

"Well, princehood has perks," Noah allowed. 

"Anyway," Eddie said, slinging an arm around Noah and ruffling his hair, "the two of us decided to stay up and get into mischief, which is why we're filming at thirty five thousand feet. We were just going to play cards, but we got to comparing notes about airline food, and about five minutes in I said, whoa, this is content, let's not waste it. So, young prince, tell me what you were saying about airline food before we started filming."

Noah nodded. "First class food is okay. It helps that you're eating it in a really fancy seat and you know how much you paid for that fancy seat. But it's still kinda..." he stuck out his tongue, waggling his head. "It's just served in fancier dishes. And outside of first class...I mean, I'll eat it, but I won't like it."

"It's difficult to make good airline food. There are a lot of requirements," Eddie said. "It has to be mass-produced, it has to keep for reasonably long periods of time, some of it has to be reheatable on an airplane, and I don't know if you know this -- I don't know if YOU know this," he added, turning to Noah, "but our tastebuds literally change when we're on an airplane. Something to do with altitude and pressurized cabins. That's why bloody marys are such a popular cocktail. Tomato juice tastes better on an airplane."

"That's nuts," Noah said.

"So do nuts, actually," Eddie told him. "So you end up with some issues. Bread doesn't keep well or reheat well and the texture gets super weird, that's why you don't get good pastry and your bread roll is dry even in first class. Meat is hard to cook at scale or reheat. Sauces tend to separate -- cream sauce is the worst. Vegetables do okay because you can make a whole bunch of salad at once and it'll stay relatively crisp, and protein in sauce is still the most easily reheatable form of food, but stuff like eggs or breakfast meat has to be pretty greasy to reheat well. And then it's just, you know, greasy."

"So, chef, what's the solution?" Noah asked, clearly feeding Eddie a line, grinning as he did so.

"I am so glad you asked," Eddie replied, just as faux-rehearsed. "I managed to weasel two economy-class dinner meals out of the flight attendants -- don't worry, there were spares, nobody went hungry because of this -- and we're going to hack you an airline meal that's both edible and reasonably nutritious. Ready?" 

"Ready!" 

Eddie pulled up a tray table that had been folded flat against the wall, and reached in the other direction to bring two trays of food into the camera's view. "So we've got two meals that each have a salad, a little cup of dressing, a roll with butter, and chocolate bites for dessert. This one is a chicken curry noodle bowl with some mango chutney stir-in over here on the side -- I'm using 'curry' and 'chutney' both very loosely, as does the airline -- and this one is mushroom tortellini in pesto. That's actually pretty good, stuffed pasta does well in this kind of situation and I like a pesto, the bright notes really flare. What's the dressing that comes with the salads, Noah?"

Noah checked one of the little bottles, squinting. "Yogurt dill."

"Pretty good. Probably pretty bland. Oh, we also have salt and pepper. Okay, so what we're going to do is take the worst parts of the meal and add a little bit of the best part and basically make you a two-entree meal that's superior to a single entree with sides. Pop open that bread and give our friends a demo."

Noah tore open the plastic surrounding the bread roll, which was oblong, slightly smaller than a hoagie bun. He tapped it on the tray and it clattered stiffly. He broke off one end and crumbs went everywhere; the inside looked dry when he held it up to the camera.

"This is not a good bread roll," Eddie said. "Butter will make it edible, but we can make it better. We have the technology. We have...the dressing. We're going to just get this bread to a nicer texture by adding some of the dressing..." 

He split the roll with a knife carefully while Noah opened the dressing, then poured a generous dollop onto the bread, spreading it with the knife. "Let that sink in a minute, let's pick out the best lettuce and tomatoes for the sandwich, here we go...all right. You want a spicy chicken curry sandwich or a veggie sandwich?"

"Curry," Noah said. 

"Good call, the dill dressing's going to go nicely with that. All right, we are going to really stir up this chicken in sauce -- it's okay if the noodles get mixed in, that's what we in the biz call texture -- and make sure everything's blended. This mango chutney's going on the other half of the bread to moisten it, and this is -- this is going to get me yelled at by my culinary school teachers," he told Noah, "but we're going to throw that pepper right on the mangos there. It'll add kick to the curry and the hope is that you won't actually get much flavor other than spice. We'll see how it goes. So you got dill dressing with lettuce and tomato, mango chutney with pepper, all that is making the bread nice and soft, and we're going to take some of the chicken curry and slather that right on top." 

Noah used a fork and spoon like tongs to scoop curry onto the roll, sitting open on the plate, and then Eddie closed it carefully. Noah reached for it, but Eddie held up a hand.

"Not yet. Finishing is important," he told the teenager. "You have to let the flavors and textures settle a little, and this is also going to ensure it isn't as messy as it could be to eat, because we're classy assholes."

"Nobody classier," Noah agreed.

"The bread needs time to absorb more liquid. So now we take this paper tray liner and just..." Eddie wrapped the sandwich up in the paper, ignoring where the curry stained it yellow, folded the ends under, and tucked them into a complicated pleat that kept the paper tightly wrapped around the sandwich. "Just let that sit for a second -- if we were actually hacking this meal in economy, now's when you'd eat the rest of the curry, while the sandwich settles. What we're going to do is make a veggie sandwich with this other one. Guess how."

Noah frowned. "Well, there's the other salad, and the dressing, and I guess the pesto..."

"Sure, but where's most of this meal's bulk?"

"The pasta -- are you gonna put tortellini on bread?" Noah asked. 

"Carb on carb can be delicious but we're going to be more delicate than that -- we're going to open up this tortellini and get that awesome mushroom filling out of it and use that like a pate spread," Eddie said.

"Can I change my order? I want the mushroom pesto sandwich," Noah said. Eddie laughed.

"All right, you're the kid, you get your pick. Let's get this tortellini unfolded," he said, and set to work. 

-----

Six hours into their ten hour flight, after Eddie used the first-class wifi to post the video, there was a knock on the door and Gregory put his head in. 

"Hey, you're up!" Eddie said, looking up from his book. Noah gave Gregory a wave from where he was playing video games opposite Eddie. "Am I unbanished from our suite?"

"You are in so much trouble," Gregory said affectionately.

"For what? Noah and I have been super duper quiet, we didn't wake you up or bug Michaelis and Jes or anything."

Gregory held up his phone. "Hacking Bad Airline Food With NoahTheTerror," he read from the screen. 

"That mushroom sandwich was choice," Noah said, without looking up from his game. 

"Curry wasn't bad. Pepper might have been a mistake. I'll workshop it," Eddie said. "Why?"

"Eddie. I love you, but we are literally on a plane owned by a company whose food you just called terrible and hacked so it would be better. Half the internet wants an encore when we get served breakfast, and meanwhile the airline seems torn between promising to upgrade their food offerings and suing you for slander."

"Libel, surely," Eddie said. "I did it in the public record."

"It's libel if it's written down, all you did was talk," Gregory said. "Technically slander."

"Oh, is that all I did?" Eddie asked innocently. 

"I blame you," Gregory said to Noah. "You were supervising."

"I'm an innocent child," Noah said, still not looking up from his game. "Easily led astray. Sounds to me like I came under the sway of a bad influence."

"Anyway it's not libel OR slander if it's true," Eddie said. "They won't sue me, if they do I'll bring one of their awful bread rolls to court and make the judge eat it. Nobody would rule against me after eating one of those."

"The dressing helped, but dressing can only do so much," Noah added loyally. Eddie held his hand out for a fistbump and Noah bumped it, finally setting his game aside.

"Seriously, are we busted?" Eddie asked. "Like, genuinely in trouble busted?"

"Probably not, it's mostly just evidence I can't leave you alone for a minute," Gregory said. 

"Well, the solution to that was to let me keep pestering you in our own two-seat suite and not banish me because you wanted to sleep," Eddie pointed out. 

Gregory opened his mouth to say something, then glanced at Noah and paused. 

"If you'd like to leave Noah to his video games and come back to the suite, we can discuss that where young princeling ears aren't listening," he said finally.

"You can just say Eddie wanted to make out," Noah said. "I'm sixteen, not six."

Gregory rubbed his eyes with one hand. "Eddie?"

Eddie leaned over and planted a kiss on Noah's forehead. "Behave yourself. Hydrate and have a snack before we land."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Noah called as Eddie left, snickering. 

"On a scale of one to ten, how much trouble am I in, honestly?" Eddie asked, following Gregory back into their cabin, which had one chair reclined (covered in blankets that Gregory had turned into some kind of napping nest) and one upright, with Eddie's stuff piled on it. 

"With me, a two. With the airline, probably a five. You might have to do a follow-up," Gregory said. 

"Like, the breakfast follow-up, or like an apology?"

Gregory shuffled aside so Eddie could shift his stuff off the chair and sit -- then settled in his lap comfortably, arms resting on his shoulders.

"Well, I say you double-down and make the breakfast post," he said. "But I am now prepared to distract you with making out, as Noah so charmingly put it, if you're interested."

"Oh, now you've seen my impressive sandwich-making skills you're ready to join the mile-high club?" Eddie asked. 

"That mushroom thing did look kind of good."

Eddie kissed him. "Tell you what, when they do breakfast service I'll use all the butter I saved from the rolls and make you an incredibly mediocre but edible egg sandwich. If I can get more dressing I could probably even make a decent mayo substitute." 

"You can't use my phone for extra lighting," Gregory told him, and Eddie was going to protest, but more interesting things were happening and by the time he remembered to be sullen about it, breakfast was being served. 

[teecupangel]

Hi, it's me again the one who came back to the fandom recently and has a lot of feelings

I have a specific AU in my head that dosn't go away

Context: are you familiar with the prototype series? Alex Mercer and stuff? Alex is the virus who thinks of himself as the doctor Mercer in the start (sorry for the shit paragraph)

AU: Desmond is now an Eden Piece (some Isu bullshit happened and now he is a Eden Piece ) and because the piece consumes Desmond's memories (or leak of them) they think now they're Desmond Miles (who is dead) and try to live his life as Desmond.

So because of Animus bullshit, Desmond doesn't have many things left but he knows Shaun and Rebecca, then he will hunt these two down because he wants to stay with them, he feels lonely and doesn't understand the world very well (maybe deeply he knows he is not the true Desmond, but he can play pretend for a while because the company)

Shaun and Rebecca accept "Desmond"with tears in eyes, hugs and promises of all being together now. Everyone is happy until "Clay" shows up

That Clay is not exactly their Clay, but they're also as "Desmond" an Eden Piece. EP!Clay actually knows more than EP!Desmond and try to alert them about the Isus, because Eden Pieces are used to control the humans and serve the Isu and EP!Desmond just runway

While this happens, the two humans (Shaun and Rebecca) are trying to calm Layla down, but the girl just makes the canon choices and she dies (sorry Layla, I like you, you looks funny but you need to die girl for the sake of this shit, you need to die) but this time everything is worse because Eden Pieces

The truth comes to the light and the humans still decide to keep EP!Desmond and EP!Clay as friends... Until...

...after all this stupid shit show Layla comes back as Eden Piece... Honestly, Shaun and Rebecca should just retire at this point, go to some cottage live in the rural zone at the United Kingdom and leave all those freeks there... eat some warm soup, drink tea, feed the goose and sheep. Just ... They don't want to work with the possibility of finding an EP!Lucy someday, just give up and live a calm and rural life with zero technology (Shaun and Rebecca I like you guys, pls don't hate me, I feel really sorry for it but all your friends are now replacement for some alien version of them...)

I am quite familiar with the Prototype series XD

This is quite interesting and it reminds me of the movie Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

Let’s mess things up a bit. Instead of basing it on Alex Mercer, let’s based this on Elizabeth Greene’s version of the virus.

Desmond is our ‘red herring’. The supposed Alex Mercer type in the story.

But the truth is he’s just the first of the ‘children’ being reborn as one that is both human and a Piece of Eden.

A device that had a connection to both the Grey and whatever Piece of Eden was used to create the Animus. That connection is what made that device be able to copy and recreate the data into a state the being was in before its death.

Becoming a Piece of Eden in the process is more of a… necessary ‘sacrifice’ to keep the production going without losing all resources.

Now, this does beg the question who our actual Elizabeth is. The ‘patient zero’.

Desmond Miles.

To be more exact, EP!Desmond is a failure because he was not able to be set in the same state as he was when he died which wasn’t when he was Desmond Miles but when he was the Reader.

This program was meant to return the Reader to a corporeal body to fix the world after he learned how to fix it.

That’s why Clay was the next one to be ‘reborn’. The device assumed that Clay would be capable of remembering the plan that the Reader made but that… went sideways because it’s not Clay’s memories. Clay does have the plan in his head but it’s jumbled together with the rest of the information (mindscrew) that Juno gave him before his first death.

Layla was the device’s Hail Mary. To be more exact, the device waited for Layla to die (it had no hand on her death, that’s an entire different thing that was half-orchestrated by Loki and his mistress and half-‘shit went down because we were too busy to actually support Layla’) because the next one to be reborn isn’t the Layla who died BUT the Layla who joined the Reader in trying to figure out how to save the world.

And unfortunately for the device, this Layla also suffered from those missing memories.

Because both the Reader and the Heir aren’t exactly human by the time they were to be reborn.

And now…

The device needs to figure out which one could (1) hold the Reader’s memories of the plan and (2) still be human.

The device’s next child?

The easy way out is that it’s one of Desmond’s ancestors with Altaïr being the easiest choice because his time with the Apple would make the transition to being a Piece of Eden easier.

The hard “let’s fuck with Desmond” choice?

Subject 4: Daniel Cross.

[icedragonlizard]

More information about my headcanon universe's home planet for Susie

In some of my earlier tumblr posts, particularly ones that largely involve Susie, you may have noticed how I keep talking about how I headcanon she has a home planet. That there's a place she lives at.

Well, I figure it'd be best that I make an entire tumblr post about my interpretation of her home, since there's a lot of details that I did not mention in those earlier posts. I've seen some people interpret her being a nomad post-PR where she just lives in a spaceship that goes around the cosmos, but I don't do that. In my universe, she has an actual planet that she calls home! And so I'll begin in explaining it.

This visual comes from a "It's Kirby Time!" book that just recently released in Japan if I'm not mistaken. It's more or less about Kirby going through many other planets.

This ended up being long, so have a 'Keep reading' tag.

I don't have an official name for this planet. I guess we can tentatively call it 'Haltmann Star' or something. Which is hilarious to think of this family being bold enough to name a planet after themselves, LOL.

It's quite a ways away from Popstar, but not too far away to stop Kirby and a few others from giving her a visit every now and then.

Susie's home is a very mechanical planet. It basically looks like a planet that has been mechanized by the Haltmann Works Company.

This planet acts as the HWC's headquarters. This is where the HWC's main base of operations resides in. It was also disconnected to Star Dream while the company was in its rogue phase of Max Haltmann being the president and mechanized planets across the cosmos.

And because the company's headquarters was disconnected to Star Dream, it was able to survive when the machine got destroyed at the end of KPR. All the planets that have been invaded and mechanized have been restored back to normal after Star Dream's destruction, but the HWC's main base of operations was able to avoid dissolvement.

Therefore, Susie wasn't without a home after Star Dream got destroyed, and had somewhere to resort to after Planet Robobot's events were over. The remaining Haltworkers that survived also resorted back to the HWC's headquarters alongside Susie after KPR.

However, while the headquarters managed to avoid dissolvement, it didn't come out unscathed. The enormous universal scale of Star Dream's debris harshly damaged it. Susie and the remaining Haltworkers had a lot of work to do in fixing up the headquarters back to its former glory. It also wasn't mentally easy to fix up the headquarters, to say the least... considering Susie was going through an horrible grief period of mourning her father's death, including that her self-esteem was damaged due to his death largely being her fault.

Star Dream was what made it possible to mechanize other planets in the first place, so that threat was just about eliminated entirely when Star Dream got destroyed. The only way the HWC could mechanize planets again is if they rebuild another machine similar to Star Dream, but Susie didn't want anything to do with another machine like that ever again considering what the last one did to her family. She would revive the HWC without Star Dream, although at first she didn't really know what direction she wanted to strive for...

... Until when she (painfully) remembered memories of her and her father before the Another Dimension accident. At that moment, she was able to recall when Haltmann originally talked about wanting to be innovative with technology and science to the fullest, and to use that to consensually improve planets and people. When she recalled this, that's the direction she decided to go for when reviving the HWC. While the company is unable to mechanize planets anymore, they can still industrialize to be able to achieve the new, more altruistic goal that it wants to do under Susie's rule. When she worked to revive the company, she rebuilt everything from the ground up.

Once Susie began recovering from her grief, fixed up the headquarters and revived the HWC, her home planet is perhaps now in a better place than it's ever been before. She's heavily changed it up to her liking. She's in charge of the entire planet, after all, so she just did whatever she wanted to make the planet look how she wanted to look, as the Haltworkers helped configure it all to her personal liking.

The appearance of her home planet isn't actually just dull grey of metal coloration-wise like what you may think. As the HWC was brought back with Susie being the new president, the company became more 'pink' and 'teehee cutesy' so to speak. A lot of the buildings in the headquarters are literally painted pink in coloration. Susie, being a pink fanatic, could not help herself but to paint some of the HWC's assets pink. She even went as far to as to make changes to the "H" logo of the company, as it's now shown in two different ways: its orange coloration is now replaced with pink, but there's also instances where the original orange coloration still exists but it's surrounded by a pink background. This woman literally went through with "I'm the CEO, so I can do whatever I want with this now!"

She sure went to have fun when entirely revamping the company!

Not joking about the "teehee cutesy" stuff either. Susie installed literal kaomojis on the Haltworkers now and sometimes giggles to herself about it. She's also given the headquarters some general sense of kawaii-ness. She even goes as far as to participate in the holiday cheer when the holidays show up and will decorate the headquarters accordingly (whether it's Halloween, Christmas, etc.). Although at the start she initially didn't do anything about holidays, because her time stranded in Another Dimension made her forget all about holidays. Others in the Kirby cast had to teach her about the holidays. But once she got the hang of it, she went nuts about it when decorating at the appropriate times. She smiles when looking at all the Haltworkers wearing santa hats when it comes to be Christmas.

The main building of interest in the headquarters is a miniature version of the Access Ark. It's the main office building, basically. It's where Susie resides, it's where she does her presidential work at, and this building also houses her bedroom that she goes to sleep in. And by the way, her bedroom is all pink and teehee cute with stuffed animals and shit. No joke! Some of her childhood stuff is still there that she patched up. Susie technically didn't get to mature the proper way due to her ruined past, so even though she likes to display a peppy/professional demeanor, deep down inside she's still kind of childish and cutesy, despite being a grown-ass adult woman in her 20s. It would not be wrong to say that she is kind of a womanchild.

Another notable building interest is an ice cream shop. Yeah... the headquarters has an ice cream shop. Susie just has to have nearby ice cream. One could say this maybe adds on to the cutesiness of Susie's version of the HWC, especially considering that the company goes as far as to make ice cream factories for some planets.

The cutesiness can also sometimes claw its way into consensual robotic upgrades for people. The HWC under Susie's rule has not stopped 'mechanizing' people albeit it's consensual and they always ask people first before actually doing it... although initially they were a bit too insistent about it and were like "you sure you don't want it?" that they've needed time to get past doing, but at least they haven't been forcing it against people's will anymore. Anyways, at the instances where someone actually does accept a mechanical upgrade, they then get asked if they'd like a kaomoji installed onto their upgrade or something. LOL. Funny enough, there's instances where that kind of thing doesn't get declined... people who are into cute have allowed it to happen to them. Hahahahahahahahahahaha!

Some hilariously unhinged combinations can be done with the cutesiness and the company's technology. So, one of the things that the HWC does is mass produce robot toys... let me mention it also mass produces weird super customizable furbies. I made an entire post about how I headcanon that Susie makes fucked up furbies and she kinda just projects it onto the universe by mass producing furbies, LOL. It's anyone's guess as to how people in various planets react to these furbies. Although I'll mention some people have gotten into furbies thanks to her! Might as well call Susie a 'furby queen', tbh.

Susie's home planet regularly gets visited on occasion by Kirby, Magolor, Taranza and the mage sisters. Those are her closest friends and the only ones she's been willing to disclose her home to. Visiting her home isn't the only time they see her, though, as she will occasionally vacation outside her home to see friends in other places.

But the other notable characters in the Kirby cast do not know that this is her home because she doesn't bother telling them. She generally doesn't talk about much of her personal life to a lot of people anyways, she's not comfortable enough to do so.

Well, actually, there is another notable person in the cast that knows where her home is: Ribbon. This is because of a particular circumstance. Susie and Ribbon aren't close enough to be legitimate friends, but their respective home planets are actually closer to each other in location than either of them is to Popstar. When they both found out about this, they had a conversation about it that had something to do with being cordial about any future big threats.

If a new big universal threat came around, they'd contact each other about it before getting to Kirby. And it helps that Susie has set up an entire militia of Haltworkers that can work as a defense against a future threat unless the danger becomes more than big enough to feel the need to inform Kirby and others in Planet Popstar.

But yeah, aside from that, her friends are the only ones who visit her in her home, and that's how she likes it. Kirby gets there through a warp star whenever he chooses to visit. Taranza and the mage sisters are able to float all the way there by themselves. Magolor, however, chooses to use the Lor Starcutter to get to Susie whenever he feels like visiting, and she was like "WTF" the first few times it's happened.

Anyways... I think that about wraps up everything I wanted to talk about about my headcanon universe's home for Susie? She has a home in my world! It's technically a mechanized planet with teehee cute pink stuff added to it, but no other planet has to worry about being mechanized again. Susie uses her business suit as her means of transportation, and she's upgraded it to be capable of moving around at stellar speeds to easily visit other planets for vacations. But wow... her friends care enough about her to visit her home sometimes! At least she's not alone. She has people in her life now.

Thank you if you've gotten to read all this. See you for the next one.

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Looking for Answers

Summary: No One Knows AU Part 24, Tucker decides he's ready to know what's going on.

...

“Tucker, I still don’t think you’ve thought this through,” Sam says.

“What’s the harm in it?” Tucker asks.  “It’s not like I’m walking right up to Danny and telling him everything we know and everything we’ve done wrong.”

“We haven’t done anything wrong—”

“Sam.  I’m asking Vlad to show me everything he has on Danny, and how he knows he’s evil.  I need more evidence than we have to believe that he is.”

“How about ‘he tried to kill me at Circus Gothica?’  Is that not pretty iron-clad evidence?”

“That’s where I’m starting,” Tucker says.  It’s the first thing he’s said to Sam that isn’t a lie.

Well, second.  He really isn’t going to talk to Danny.  Danny asked for space.  And this is a problem of Tucker’s own making.  He needs to figure out how to fix it.

But he’s not talking to Vlad, either.  He knows Sam trusts Vlad wholeheartedly, but something has always felt a little off about him to Tucker.  Why keep so much hidden?  Why not engage with Danny directly, and make Tucker and Sam do all of the confronting?  Why not tell Valerie who they are?  Why upgrade both of their suits at once, instead of leaving one of them with them, and making sure they can protect themselves at least somewhat?  Too many questions are piling up, to the point that it’s all building to an intense feeling of his instincts screaming at him “Don’t talk to Vlad.”

And Tucker is done not listening to his instincts.

“I still don’t like this,” Sam says, pulling Tucker back out of his head.  “What if you start poking around and Danny finds out, and realizes we’re onto him?”

“I’ll be careful,” Tucker says.  “I can handle it.  I handled you and Danny both being hurt and unconscious, didn’t I?”

Sam glares at him, but Tucker doesn’t take it back.

“I’ll tell you what I learn,” he says instead.  “I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

“You better,” Sam says, still glaring at him.  Tucker gives her a look and leaves.

Her parents probably aren’t going to keep her locked up for too long.  She’s not as hurt as Danny was, after all, and she still needs to go to school.  In fact, Sam’s suit took the brunt of the damage, and whatever Vlad did to upgrade it apparently did its job, because the suit had looked mostly unharmed too.

Tucker waves to Sam’s parents as he leaves, who give him at least a polite wave back.  He’s pretty sure they like that he made sure Sam was okay.  It’s gained him some points with them.

That’s not something Tucker has time to focus on, though.

So, Circus Gothica.  Sam’s right in that it’s the most damning evidence in regards to Danny being evil.  But if Tucker’s really running with his instincts that Danny’s not a monster (and he is), then something else had to be going on.  The first and most helpful thing to do is probably figure out what happened there.

And since only two people were watching Danny closely at that point, and one of them is the ringmaster now in jail, and the other is the only one of them who has confirmed access to some kind of recording devices, Tucker starts by heading to the training grounds to look for anything Vlad has on the topic.  If Vlad’s there, he’ll just pretend like he’s there for training, and that the last battle finally changed his mind in regards to Danny in the opposite direction to how it actually did.  If he’s not, well, there’s got to be something in those training grounds he hasn’t found yet.  If it’s actually Vlad’s base of operations while he’s here, there’s not enough technology in the main base to know everything he knows.

Unless it’s back in Wisconsin, where he said he came from.  Man, if that’s the case, this is going to be a lot harder.

Tucker shakes himself.  Worry about that later.

Thankfully, when he gets to the training grounds, no one’s there, and the training grounds are almost silent.  In fact, the only sound is coming from the chain of one of the punching bags, gently swinging back and forth.  Everything looks perfectly in order, and there’s nothing that he isn’t expecting to see.

But there has to be something.  There’s no way Vlad upgraded their suits with just the things in this room.  Unless he really did take them all the way back to Wisconsin, which is still a possibility.  But why go so far away, and risk something happening while he was gone?

Tucker, after a moment’s hesitation, twists his suit on and flies up by the ceiling obstacle course, as good a place to start as any.  Nothing seems out of the ordinary, and if there was something there to find, they would have found it any of the number of the times they’d used the course itself.

Tucker had blasted a punching back against the wall before, so those are out, along with the ghost targets, which are meant to be hit.  The Danny dummies went up after everything else in here, so thankfully, those are out too, and Tucker doesn’t have to spend time looking too closely at them.  He never wants to see those things again.

That leaves the room itself as the only thing he can reasonably expect to find something in.  There’s a lot of space along the walls that’s designed to get hit by something.  The walls behind the ghost targets have dents and burns.  The walls behind the sparring ring have padding.  The walls on the other side of the ceiling obstacle course have boarded up windows.

Tucker turns to face the one wall separated off a little bit, which is the area with the chairs to sit in.  Right now, the only one sitting there is Vlad’s larger one.  So where did the two smaller ones go?

Tucker twists his bracelet, retracting his suit into it, and walks over to look at the wall there.  Unfortunately for his room theory, there’s nothing that could possibly lead to a hidden compartment or room or anything of the sort.  In fact, the wall is so plain and smooth that there don’t seem to even be any differences in paint.  Tucker bites his lip, staring at it for a moment.  There has to be something here.  But if it’s not on the wall, he can’t think of anywhere else it could be.  Nowhere Vlad would expect them not to touch.

Realization strikes Tucker, and he turns to face Vlad’s chair.  He takes a breath, then walks over and sits down in it.  He’s not as tall as Vlad, but he starts feeling around for similar places Vlad could reach while sitting in it, and—

There.  A button underneath the arm.  Tucker presses it.

A soft click, and Tucker looks to his right to see the entire smooth wall slide back, and reveal a long staircase.

He takes a deep, shaky breath, and twists his suit back on.  Then he stands and walks over, starting slowly down the steps.  He doesn’t hear any voices coming from down there, so Vlad probably still isn’t there.

The staircase makes a u-turn halfway down, and leads back into what must be the basement of the house.  As soon as Tucker makes the turn, he can see the bottom of the staircase open out into a wide room.  It looks like a lab of some kind, with various machines and consoles and scrap material laid out.  Tucker couldn’t hope to have the time to understand what all of it’s for.

Instead, he heads for a table in the middle of the room, with large stacks of papers laid out on top of it.  Tucker pulls one over at random and peers at it.  Originally he was just planning on searching for information on Circus Gothica, but there’s clearly more than that going on here.  What he finds, however, sticks to his original plan.

He’s holding a sketch of the staff he remembers Freakshow using, along with detailed explanations of how it’s possible the staff can control ghosts.  Vlad’s written down several theories in regards to how, but the page ends with much more frustrated rambles, seeming irritated that he can’t come to a conclusion.

But for as much as he can’t, this certainly explains a lot for Tucker.  He takes a deep breath, tries not to get caught on the idea of Danny being mind controlled by that Freakshow guy for who knows how long, and sets the paper aside to grab later.  He’ll need to show that one to Sam.

The next paper he grabs is several scribbled attempts at poetry that seem to be dedicated to Danny’s mother.  Tucker pulls back in disgust, and sets that paper as far away from him as he can get it.

The page after that seems to be designs for his, Sam’s and Valerie’s suits.  They include detailed schematics of how the suits work, none of which is too surprising to Tucker, except for the parts of the designs that include spy cameras.

Okay, so that’s not great.  Not loving the implication that Vlad has been spying on the three of them while they fight Danny, and— and talk to Danny, and fight with each other.

Tucker sets that paper aside and shakes himself.  Move on, deal with guilt and emotions later.

The next page is a schematic for his and Sam’s upgrades.  Which… doesn’t seem to have any upgrades to weapons, or armor capability, or flight.  Instead it details an explanation of how the suits can be used to control the heart rate, breathing, and body of the wearer.

Oh fuck, Tucker has to get out of here.

He grabs all of the pages he’s read, holds them close to his chest, and turns—

Right into Vlad’s waiting gaze.

“Hello, my boy,” Vlad says, as Tucker’s heart stops in his chest.  “And what exactly are you doing down here?”

“V-Vlad, hey,” Tucker says, hating how obvious the fear in his voice is.  “F-funny story, actually.  So I, uh, I tripped, and fell right into your chair, and it opened the wall, and I just wanted to see what cool stuff you have down here in your lab, so I—”

Vlad puts a hand on Tucker’s shoulder, and Tucker stops, staring wide eyed up at him.

“Well, I suppose this brings the need for a charade to an end,” Vlad says.  “Come with me.”

“I don’t—”

Vlad reaches inside his coat, pulls out a small remote, and presses a button on it.  Tucker’s arms stiffen and lock in place at his sides, and when Vlad starts walking, he feels himself follow.

“I was hoping I would have more time before moving into this phase,” Vlad says, as if Tucker can hear him over the thumping of his heart in his chest.  “But I suppose now is as good a time as any.”

Then, as Tucker watches, a black ring appears around Vlad’s waist, travels up to his head, and answers the only question Tucker had left.

“Y-you’re Plasmius,” he manages.

Vlad Plasmius gives him an amused look.  “Well, it took you long enough to catch on to that,” he says.  “I’ll admit, I don’t know what Daniel saw in you in the first place.  Surely there are better companions out there than a couple of idiots who drop him the first second someone who’s halfway decent at manipulation comes along.  But, ah well, hardly the point.  Though I don’t imagine Daniel would care enough to come here if it’s just you in danger, after all this.  Tell me my boy, how would you feel about kidnapping his sister?  And remember that your opinion is irrelevant.”

Tucker can’t even manage to get enough breath in to formulate some form of response.

“I think that will work well enough,” Vlad says, turning and pressing a couple of buttons on the console to his left.  “Of course we’ll need to keep Samantha away from the duration of this one.  Can’t let her go thinking it’s your fault Jazz goes missing, can we?�� And I think we’ll skip the talking, just in case.”  He presses another button on Tucker’s suit, and the next second, Tucker can’t open his mouth.

Vlad turns and walks back over towards Tucker, and pulls up the visor over his eyes.  He smiles in amusement at the terror that’s definitely clear in them.

“You know, this might be fun after all,” he says.  “Now let’s get moving.”

…

Sam, from her spot listening to the entire exchange on the steps, takes that as her cue to turn and run as fast as she can back up to the training area, while still being quiet as she does so.  Her heart is in her throat, and her hand, ironically, is twisting the bracelet on her wrist back and forth as she runs, to the point that it’s started tearing up the bandage on her wrist.

She makes it, somehow, through the training grounds and outside, and keeps sprinting until she makes her way to an alleyway she can duck into.  She has just enough time to press herself back against the wall before she sees Tucker fly past the alley on his suit.  She’s going to have to pray he didn’t see her, which is a far cry different from her original goal of sneaking after him to make sure she could protect him if she needed to.

The next second, she looks down at her bracelet.  Her immediate instinct is to tear it off and crush it under her shoe, but that will definitely alert Vlad that something’s wrong.

No, she has to keep it on for now.  She has to— she has to do something.  She has to— what can she do, she doesn’t even have a weapon she can use because every weapon she has access to can be taken over against her will except— except—

Sam squeezes the bracelet on her wrist tightly.  She pulls in as deep a breath as she can manage after having her world so completely and thoroughly shattered, and leaves the alleyway to start running home.

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

That was such a good analysis. And do you think a "balancing" is possible?

Re: this ask!

I think that depends entirely on what is meant by balancing!

If you’re specifically referring to the “you were meant to be my balance” line, in the context which it is said shdhdd I do not think he remotely meant it. When he’s like “you might make me a better man :)” etc, I think he’s fully bullshitting her. He isn’t saying it with the intention of becoming a better person, or even with genuine acknowledgment that that is something that might require doing! He’s just trying to get her to hook up with him. If at that very point Alina took him up on his offer, there is zero chance imo that he would at all change his ways. He’s fully decided that he is right, and she is wrong, and she only needs to see things his way. That if she doesn’t, the fault lies with her.

That being said, I think he’s a character that’s remarkably easy to rehabilitate in one way or another. I find online discussions of redemptions often really simplistic and only from the perspective of a single type of story. Fictional/narrative morality is so fluid, all it takes to side a character like the Darkling with protagonists is to simply put him in a position where his goals align with theirs. And I find that pretty easy because he has such clear cut things he cares about, ie the political situation in Ravka. So it’s a pretty easy fix to just introduce an outside threat and force him to work with Alina/any protagonist of choice.

Or like for fanfic reasons, I’ve thought a lot about scenarios where either the stag isn’t found, or he doesn’t go immediately batshit villain mode the moment Alina runs away, and the status quo established in SaB stretches on for longer. Or scenarios that are just set earlier. Like he seems to not have been committing many war crimes, that we know of, in that pre canon time? So that’s one metric, but that doesn’t actually sand down any of his edges lol. And it’s only placing a brief interstice on his more egregious terrible behavior— I fully anticipate the manipulation and interpersonal cruelty would also still be present.

If we’re talking about balancing him out from a legit moral perspective, that becomes harder, chiefly because he is really goddamn old, and him being unadaptable, and set in his ways is literally a plot point (his hatred for technological advancement).

His age is super unclear, but canonically *at least* upwards of five hundred years old, and honestly I can understand why, past a certain point, he’d be like “WHY do I have to care what these children think, when they’re going to die in five minutes anyway?” I don’t think he can really think of people as people anymore, because he’s seen repetitions of similar things play out so many times, for so long. And being so powerful for so long means that he can afford to act pretty carelessly because there aren’t that many permanent consequences. Most typical worst case scenario (beyond the canon ending lol) is that he can literally just fake his death and come back as his own son or grandson with zero consequences. So a key factor in making him change in any way imo is stripping him of power so that he doesn’t have the luxury of not giving a damn about other people. I mean that more institutionally, but losing his magic could also be useful.

Once again, for its flaws and my baseline disagreement with the concept of bringing him back from the dead after TGT, I think RoW had the right idea wrt forcing him to pretend to be a random monk. He was, however, even trying to claw to power then lmao. I think it would just take way longer than the span of stuff we saw in RoW to make any meaningful change in him. He’s just been an evil wizard king in his little evil wizard tower for too long. And on top of that, imo, his insistence to Alina that, when herself faced with immortality, she will turn out exactly the same as him, stems from a sort of sunk cost fallacy. He honestly seems desperately unhappy as a character! He seems so jaded and fully emotionally removed from everyone and everything, where the only thing that matters to him is power, and he needs her to discover that that is the only outcome possible bc if not… well he’s just wasted centuries being fucking miserable for nothing. He doesn’t want there to be another option! So he’s just very, very reticent to having any other perspective or changing in any way, and if he ever does it will inevitably be done while kicking and screaming the entire way. (I might honestly just be averse to the idea personally because redemptions are boring to me! He’s much more fun if he sucks!)

Personally, my favorite method of domesticating the Darkling is just Alina using one of the Morozova amplifiers (possibly any amplifier if it just works like that?) on him and keeping him as her pet war criminal tbh. I think that has the most entertainment value, and the most safeguards against him finding his way to power again and committing more war crimes, or being in a place to do much manipulating. Will it fix him? Ehhhh maybe over time, since it might force him out of his usual habits? Probably not. But at least it functionally tempers most of his worse tendencies lol.

TLDR: Do I think the Darkling can be balanced? I don’t know! Sounds like a tall order! I do think he can be put on a leash though.

[kitgundy]

hey darling omg!!! *squeezes you*

im so curious about your pokemon series!! youve got me hooked! a couple questions for ya.

1) fave character headcanons and why??

2) any top-tier whump tropes you absolutely adore??

3) currently so into enyo's storyline!! what are some things youve truly enjoyed writing throughout it and some things you found a little trickier??

4) a certain evil researcher;)))) never ceases to amaze me with her simultaneous wickedness and complexity. is there truly hope for her?? are there any peculiar motives that you want to talk about regarding the direction her character has taken??

5) overall, what would you say keeps enyo going and persevering through so much??

6) are there any future pokemon species you plan on writing for?? why??

no pressure to answer all of these!! just poppin' by to ask for whenever you've got time.

enjoy the rest of your day!! a heart for you in our colors!! hehe💙💕✨love you.

-lina!!

Hellooo!! *squeezes you back*

1) Enyo liking the smell of Lavender. You suggested it at some point and it’s been in the back of my head ever since. Also Olivia/Lidia/Sarah is autistic and she and her brother got really into this one show about a mad scientist (it doesn’t actually exist I made it up) and to this day she has a tendency to copy the mannerisms of the main character in that show. The Trio (Keyo, Ana, and Cheri, for those who don’t know) collecting moms is also pretty funny. As for canon character headcanon favorites, Cyllene (Pokémon legends arceus) is such a mom figure and I love her so much.

2) Burns. Fire. You probably have already realized this but burns. Also it’s less fun for me if whumpee’s on their own, I like character interactions. Defiant whumpee. Make em angry. Make em spiteful. It’s very fun to write And to read.

3) It took me a while to get her backstory worked out. Also it took me a hot minute to figure out whether Whisper (her wife basically) was dead or not

4) At this point, she’s so far gone that Rewriting Time’s the only way to really. Fix it. When the thing with Enyo and the group happens, Lidia had been in jail for like 18 years for being Literally Horrible during the Hisuian story. She had been spiraling deeper and deeper into rage, and there was no coming back from that for her without something big happening to shake her worldview and change her mindset. (Currently debating which should be the catalyst for rewriting time, either Enyo has enough and starts illusioning to look like her brother to make her feel bad or she gets what she wants, kills her parents, and then realizes it wasn’t worth it because she hurt so many people and Pokémon that she’s become just as bad as her parents. Maybe both?) As for the direction she’s taken, she started out as “ooh scary scientist lady I need for plot in Hisuian”, became “scary scientist lady who’s trying to copy the moves of Pokémon with technology”, and then I was like “Why is she like this? What happened to make her act like this? Why isn’t she nice? Why does she do these things? Something in her past made her think it was okay, so what was it?” And then her parents came to mind, and I realized she hates them so much she wants to use the copied moves to kill them. And she wants the hisuian zoro’s malice-fueled attacks for that. And that’s when she became a complex character. She hated her parents so much that she decided to destroy them, but on her way to doing so, she became them. She wasn’t meant to be this complex, she wasn’t meant to be a tragic character, but one thing led to another, and she became my greatest fear: turning into the people you hate the most. Every character I have comes from a piece of me. Lidia is my rage, my thirst for vengeance, and my fear of what will happen if I let that consume me. And to think she started out as just some random evil scientist! It’s fascinating to reflect on.

5) She needs to protect her family- she knows if she gives up, Lidia will end up going after.. probably Cheri first, and she can’t let that happen. She’s fiercely loyal to them, and she would die to make sure they were safe. Or stay alive in the face of impossible odds, like what’s going on with Lidia.

6) Mmmmmaybe? I know in any Pokémon story I write, there’s always gonna be at least one zoro involved, it’s happened since I was little haha. Zoro are the best Pokémon in my opinion. But I do have this one story on the back burner about a girl who rescues Pokémon from bad trainers, there’s only One zoro in that one so far hsjddjkf

Love youuuu ❤️🥰😊

[therobotmonster]

Taking this one out of the replies because really, it's not about @apollodrome anymore.

Life is hilarious sometimes.

Then: Answer my accusations! You're with us or against us! Now: I-I can't answer questions, some rando called me a fascist!

Boy howdy, life comes at ya fast, don' it?

So lets see where we stand. Apollodrome decided that they were going to go after someone in open hostility for their opinions and position on AI because it might cost animation jobs.

I had brought up vector puppets because they were a tech that had a job-loss impact on animation. I couldn't have guessed that was actually 'Drome's job.

They personally replace a dozen in-between animators, while the tech that came along with it wiped out cell painters, inkers and photographers and more... and yet when the new tech that reduces the cost of labor (the point of all tech) it's time to start chucking wooden shoes into the servers?

Of course, what's less hilarious, but not unexpected, is the turn that happens when confronted with counter-arguments. They come striding into the party, slap the host across the face, and then when pressed by everyone who saw it to explain themselves, they suddenly don't want to because they're 'clearly not welcome'?

"It's different when it's me" is a pattern here.

More than that, it's a dodge because they can't address the points brought up. A transparent and sad one at that.

They can't address how the technology that employs them while making many others redundant isn't a problem while this new tech that might do the same to them is. Because the differences are immaterial to the impact.

They can't address how their backing of the Copyright Alliance isn't going to fix the problem they claim to be worried about, because all the major employers in the animation industry are huge megacorps that can and are making their own LLMs for internal use. It would just make it inaccessible to everyone else.

They aren't too offended to present their case. They've stepped out of their bubble, found out that they don't have a case, and are trying to save face by turning it around on everyone.

We can all see it.

Here's a piece of appropriate AI-assisted art to express exactly how I feel in the moment:

What I don't get is that other your support of AI image generation, you're SO smart and well read and concerned with ethics. I genuinely looked up to you! So, what, ethics for everyone except for artists, or what? Is animation (my industry, so maybe I care more than the average person) too juvenile and simplistic a medium for you to care about its extinction at the hands of CEOs endorsing AI? This might sound juvenile too, but I'm kinda devastated, because I genuinely thought you were cool. You're either with artists or against us imho, on an issue as large as this, when already the layoffs in the industry are insurmountable for many, despite ongoing attempts to unionize. That user called someone a fascist for pointing this out, too. I guess both of you feel that way about those of us involved in class action lawsuits against AI image generation software.

i can't speak for anyone else or the things they've said or think of anyone. that said:

1. you should not look up to people on the computer. i'm just a girl running a silly little blog.

2. i am an artist across multiple mediums. the 'no true scotsman' bit where 'artists' are people who agree with you and you can discount anyone disagrees with you as 'not an artist' and therefore fundamentally unsympathetic to artists will make it very difficult to actually engage in substantive discussion.

3. i've stated my positions on this many times but i'll do it one more: i support unionization and industrial action. i support working class artists extracting safeguards from their employers against their immiseration by the introduction of AI technology into the work flow (i just made a post about this funnily enough). i think it is Bad for studio execs or publishers or whoever to replace artists with LLMs. However,

4. this is not a unique feature of AI or a unique evil built into the technology. this is just the nature of any technological advance under capitalism, that it will be used to increase productivity, which will push people out of work and use the increased competition for jobs to leverage that precarity into lower wages and worse conditions. the solution to this is not to oppose all advances in technology forever--the solution is to change the economic system under which technologies are leveraged for profit instead of general wellbeing.

5. this all said anyone involved in a class action lawsuit over AI is an enemy of art and everything i value in the world, because these lawsuits are all founded in ridiculous copyright claims that, if legitimated in court, would be cataclysmic for all transformative art--a victory for any of these spurious boondoggles would set a precedent that the bar for '''infringement''' is met by a process that is orders of magnitude less derivative than collage, sampling, found art, cut-ups, and even simple homage and reference. whatever windmills they think they are going to defeat, these people are crusading for the biggest expansion of copyright regime since mickey mouse and anyone who cares at all about art and creativity flourishing should hope they fail.

[andtheghost]

01/30/24 - Your master has betrayed you

Has anyone else noticed technology being all wonky lately?

I went to the library the other day to print a few things. I send my images to myself via e-mail, and I forgot my little password notebook so I couldn’t log into my email. However, I had my iPad with me in case I took a last look before printing and caught something that needed to be fixed, so I figured I could just make a new temporary email and send them with that. Simple fix, no problem.

I try making a Microsoft account. They have a series of “tests” to prove you’re a human. The visual test is a seemingly random string of letters and numbers and a picture of a robot, with absolutely NO instruction as to what you’re supposed to do with them. Is it a code? Am I supposed to drag something somewhere (no, unless the dragging thing wasn’t working in my browser). So there’s an audio test. Which of three audio samples changes instruments half way through? I don’t have my headphones with me, but I’m hidden in the back of the library away from everyone anyway, I figure if I keep it on the lowest setting right up to my ear, it should be fine.

I get through the first test fine. Then it informs me there are three more to go! I don’t hear a single sample that changes instruments in the second test. I listen to it again. A woman comes in and sits at the other end of the table to work on a puzzle. I’m sitting there listening to these stupid audio samples over and over because NONE OF THEM have any instrument changes. Now I feel like an asshole because I’m not alone anymore, listening to music in a library without headphones. RUDE. And I’m getting frustrated because I’ve listened to these samples how many times, and none of them are right. So I start guessing. I make two guesses, fail both, I get to start the tests all over.

Fine, fuck Microsoft anyway.

I can’t use Yahoo, because I’ve tried it for this exact purpose and I think they might have a daily upload limit? I have three fairly large images to upload, so that’s not an option. I try AOL. I didn’t even know AOL was still a thing. Every time I try to check if the email I want is available it tells me there’s an error, try again in a few minutes.

I go to Google, search best free email providers. The first option it gives me isn’t free. The second one says it sent me a validation text. I never got the text, so I press resend, still no text.

I give up at this point. It shouldn’t take more than two minutes to make a new email, if that, and I’ve been through three different options with no success, it SHOULD NOT be this hard. I finally decide to just go home and come back the next day.

And this isn’t even like a one time thing. It’s been happening a lot lately. Very simple things just NOT WORKING. Either technology has specifically singled me out to stop working properly, or there is some kind of universal devolution of technology going on. Too many people using it and it’s starting to malfunction maybe?

Honestly, I’d be okay with that after a while, I think. There would definitely be an extraordinarily bumpy transition period, sure, but I think I would survive just fine. Take us back to the “dark ages” where technology didn’t poison everything it touches.

[oliviap]

Reflection

Overall this course as taught me a lot of skills in all three programs. Coming into this course we were asked to rank our skill level in each app. My original rankings were:

Illustrator: 7

Photoshop: 3

InDesign: 0

If I was asked to reevaluate my skills now I would say my Illustrator has changed from a 7 to a 9.5, Photoshop has changed from a 3 to a 6 and InDesign from a 0 to a 7.

Even at the start of this course, I was already very comfortable with Illustrator as it was the main program I used for design in high school. I was familiar with most of the tools we learnt so that learning was really just developing and mastering them. At the start of the course I bezier lines were frustrating and while I could draw reasonably well with them, I avoided it at all costs. I now really enjoy using the pen tool and bezier lines. I used it in so many of the tasks through out the course and I found every time I got faster and better. One thing I wish I knew in high school was the short cuts for the selection tool (v) and direction selection tool (A). This would have saved me so much time!

I knew very little on Photoshop when we started this course. I had done some drawing and image manipulation in digital technology at high school but that was the extent of my skill. Even now I don't feel I know a huge amount of what Photoshop offers but I'm very comfortable with what I learned in this course. I have used the adjustment tools were learnt outside of class numerous times as it was so simple to understand. I also found selecting and mask images was really fun and easy to pick up. I missed week 5 originally so I had to catch up later so I didn't have the chance to do it before week 6. It was explained to me in class and I found I grasped it pretty easily. I admittedly did forgot some of the stuff I learnt but I was able to refer back to tumblr and it was easy to remember after a quick recap.

Before this course, I had never heard of or used InDesign before. We used InDesign in our graphic design class as well while learning it so this made it way easier to learn as I was using it for around 9 hours a week in classes. I found that InDesign was really easy to use and especially helpful for text layout. The columns tool was really helpful in creating even, balanced layouts in my graphic design class. This also taught me a lot about general text, like a lot of the terminology (e.g. kerning, tracking, leading).

I think the program I found hardest to work with was Photoshop. While I enjoyed fixing the images, I've never had a very good eye for photography so it took me a while to be happy with my results. It was also frustrating how a lot of the commands didn't overlap with Illustrator. In Illustrator you hold down shift to restrict when resizing where as in Photoshop it morphs and manipulates it. This pissed me off quite a lot. But with time this became more natural and I just learnt it and did it without thinking.

If I didn't understand something in class I was able to go back and find the instructions on Moodle or Teams. This really helped me keep up to date and properly process what I was doing. I also used videos on Youtube to help me if I couldn't figure something out. Often they were on older versions of the programs but they were still mostly the same.

I think my favourite task was the two illustrations we had to make in Illustrator. For my first one I decided to make a bike. I used the pen tool as well as pathfinder to do this. Once I was done, I decided I wanted to add to it as I didn't really find it challenging. I decided to add two parrots to the bike because why not? To challenge myself, I didn't trace them from the reference I just tried my best to make the right shapes and then used the direct selection tool later to edit it after. I really loved my second illustration, I got quite carried away and just kept adding and adding to it. I decided to try recreate my original drawing as a challenge and I wanted to see what I could produce when using Illustrator.

Overall I was pleased with my final booklet project. To be honest I don't think it was the best display of my Illustrator and InDesign skills. I decided to procrastinate this booklet a lot as we had a lot of other projects due at the time. I started the booklet on Wednesday night which in reflection was stupid. I really should have chipped away at it over the days prior so I wouldn't have had to do so much work on Thursday night. But for the time period I did it in I'm pleased. I do like the actual book. I really enjoyed researching all about the different meanings behind common nursery rhymes. I decided to make my book a book for adults rather than children. I kept the cartoonish style of nursery rhyme books but added some much more disturbing imagery.

If I was to repeat this I would have liked to make some more vector images so showcase some more skills but I'm pretty happy. I definitely shouldn't have put it off. I really liked my drawing for 'Ring Around a Rosie'. I'll probably end up adding more detail to it once this course is finished.

[night-owl-2000]

Lilith Clawthorne X Reader: A Fool's Wisdom Teeth

Author’s Note: This is the first fanfic I’ve ever written. I never thought in a million years I’d be writing one but here we are lol. The title was the hardest thing to come up with. My wisdom teeth are coming in and giving me pain so I got the idea to write this and it made me feel better. I’m probably still not gonna have mine taken out since I don’t seem to want to listen to my own logic and reasoning lol. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy it! 

         “Ow…” you whined from the kitchen as you tried to enjoy your favorite snack. Your wisdom teeth were growing in and one specifically was causing you pain. You gently rubbed the right side of your jaw and decided to put the snack away, sighing and accepting defeat. “Wisdom teeth suck” you stated, sounding moderately annoyed as you walked into your living room. “If they’re causing you so much pain, why don’t you get them removed? If I remember correctly, you said that wisdom teeth are not necessary for anything” suggested a calming voice from the couch. As you sat down, you looked over at Lilith. “The only reason I’m not getting them removed is because I don’t want to deal with the pain from recovery. Besides, I’d also be loopy from the medication and the last thing I need to do is make a fool of myself” you answered with a chuckle.

         This wasn’t your first experience with pain from your wisdom teeth. About a year ago you felt the same pain you were currently feeling on the left side of your jaw. You had gone to a dentist about it and he had explained that the pain was normal but that there wasn’t anything that could be done about it. That’s also when you found out you were one of the lucky few who didn’t need to have their wisdom teeth removed since yours were coming in straight and your jaw was big enough to house them. You were relieved to hear that and giggled because your father, who had taken you to the appointment, was jealous since he had to have his wisdom teeth cut out. You had told that story to Lilith once during one of your many walks together. That story still made you giggle at times.

         Returning to the present, you blushed slightly as a gentle kiss was placed on your cheek. “Dearest, you don’t need to worry about making a fool of yourself. I highly doubt anyone would seriously judge you for what you say or do while under the influence of medication following such a procedure” Lilith reassured you with a warm smile. “I know, making a fool of myself is the least of my worries. I’m more afraid of the pain. It would be much worse than this” you replied. You were stubborn. No matter how much pain you were in, you were not going to have those extra four teeth removed and you were certain no one could convince you to do so.

        Unfortunately for you, the tooth currently giving you pain made contact with the tooth growing in directly above it as you finished speaking, causing you more pain. This did not go unnoticed by Lilith, who sighed and shook her head. She knew how stubborn you were. She was just as stubborn though and hated seeing you in pain, whether it be emotionally or physically. She was determined to convince you to get your wisdom teeth taken out.

        “Dearest, I know you are afraid of the pain you’ll feel during recovery but think about it. If you get those teeth removed, you only have to suffer through one round of intense pain. This is your second time dealing with pain from those extra teeth. Based on what you’ve told me, you gain nothing from keeping them. Do you really want to go through this pain two more times and gain nothing in the end rather than go through one intense round of pain then be free?” Lilith asked as she looked at you. You could see the concern in her eyes. The thought of going through this same pain two more times certainly wasn’t a pleasant one. You gave the idea some thought, admitting to yourself that you’d be in pain either way, but you were still hesitant to change your mind. Seeing that you were thinking about what she said, Lilith spoke again. “Y/N, I hate to see you in pain like this. At least if you get your wisdom teeth removed, you won’t have to worry about them causing you pain ever again. I’ll stay with you throughout your recovery. All I’ll need to do is gather a few things in a suitcase to bring here. How does that sound?” she asked as she gently placed a hand on one of your shoulders. You took a little longer to think as you looked at her. She had a small, hopeful smile as she looked at you. Her eyes met yours and in them you could still see a hint of concern mixed with reassurance. You smiled a little bit and took a deep breath, having made your decision.

************************************************************************

           Today was the big day; the day you were going to have your wisdom teeth removed. After finally agreeing to get them removed following your conversation with Lilith one week ago, you scheduled your appointment for the earliest possible date. Staying true to her word, Lilith had come over the previous evening with a suitcase of her belongings in preparation for her stay with you. Seeing as you still lived with your family and there were no guest rooms in your home, Lilith would be sharing a room with you during her stay. This was not an issue for you two though. She had stayed overnight a good handful of times before and even had a small dresser and a few hangers of her own in your closet. Likewise, you had your own dresser in the closet of her room back at the Owl House for whenever you stayed over.

         As your father drove you to your appointment with your sibling sitting in the front, you sat in the backseat with Lilith trying to stay calm. You were incredibly nervous about the whole thing and for good reason. After all, who wouldn’t be nervous in this situation? Seeing how nervous you were, Lilith did her best to help you calm down. “Did I already tell you about how Edalyn teased me as I was packing my things?” Lilith asked. You nodded and answered “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind hearing about it again though.” With that said, Lilith began telling you about how Eda had laughed and asked her if she was finally moving in with you. After the inevitable teasing from Eda, her and the rest of the Owl Fam, as you had taken to calling them, passed on their messages to her wishing you good luck and a speedy recovery. The story succeeded in calming you down and distracted you for the rest of the ride.

************************************************************************

          The procedure to remove your wisdom teeth was finally over. You had been knocked out for the whole thing but for those that were awake waiting, it felt like the procedure was taking forever. Everything had gone smoothly as expected and you were cleared to go home and rest. Also as expected, you were still under the influence of the medication that was used on you. Lilith helped you get into the backseat of the car for the ride home so you wouldn’t fall in and possibly hurt yourself.

         On the ride home, things went well. Your father had the radio on playing some great metal music and the windows were partially open, allowing some fresh spring air to circulate throughout the inside of the car. Your sibling, who was sitting in the front, occasionally responded to the things you said. For most of the ride, you had your head resting on Lilith’s shoulder as you went on about various topics. Of course, you didn’t make much sense as you spoke but that didn’t stop you. Lilith had one arm wrapped around your shoulders as she listened to you go on about whatever came to mind.

         “Lily?” you said as you looked up at Lilith, your eyes meeting hers. “Yes, Darling?” she answered. “Why are you always so pretty?” Lilith blushed lightly and giggled as she thought of an answer to your question. In the front passenger seat and the driver’s seat, your father and sibling chuckled and your sibling rolled their eyes, making a mental note to tease you about this later. “I’m afraid I don’t have an answer. I am flattered though that you think I’m pretty all the time. Thank you” was Lilith’s answer. You offered a quiet hum in response.

        A brief moment of silence passed before you spoke again. “I wanna marry you” you said with a dopey smile. That sentence caught everyone off guard. Your sibling couldn’t help but to burst out laughing and your father was trying to stifle his own laughter. Lilith had gone from lightly blushing to being as red as a tomato the moment that sentence left your mouth. She looked exactly like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding truck. You two had known each other for a little more than a year at that point and had been together for about 9 months. It was in this moment that Lilith was the most flustered she had ever been. She had to take a moment to think and compose herself before responding.

        “I…we can get married after you recover” was her response. It took everything in Lilith to provide that response without turning into a flustered mess. The thought of marrying you was one that had only briefly crossed her mind a couple of times in the last month or so. The time she took to think and compose herself was the most time so far she had spent thinking about it. For a short time following her response, she imagined what the big day would be like. She imagined it would take place on a warm and sunny day, mixing together elements from witch wedding ceremonies and human wedding ceremonies to have a wedding like no other. What a wonderful day it would be, a day of celebration with family and friends from both realms. You cheering brought her out of her daydream.

       “Hell yeah! I get the best wife in existence!” you cheered with a giggle. Your father and sibling were still laughing in the front of the car, almost unable to stop. As the laughter from the front died down and you settled down, Lilith buried her face in her hands. She was still as red as a tomato. Thank Titan Eda wasn’t there or she’d never hear the end of it. A little while later the car was parked, signaling that you were finally home. Lilith helped you out of the car and upstairs to your room so you could rest. Once you were tucked in, you were out like a light. You didn’t find out about what you said until after you woke up a few hours later. You knew from that moment on you’d never hear the end of it from your family, especially your sibling. 

[mknightgrant]

💥 and 😳 with the moon bois, please??

💥 + 😳 A fighting headcanon + a confessing headcanon Not sure if you wanted it together or separately, but here are some hcs of some sort of fight that ends in a confession! This is my first time writing HCs, so pardon any mistakes <3 this is kinda long, I think!

Steven: It’s been agreed upon that Saturdays are to be spent with one another in the absence of your phones. The little blocks of technology serve as distractions, preventing face-to-face interactions from occurring other than the occasional “Oh god, look at this!” before sharing something found online. By the time this Saturday comes around, you and Steven decide on having a movie night–but can’t seem to get on the same page in terms of which movie you’ll be watching. While you prefer to watch a Disney film because, for some reason, your heart yearns for it today, Steven insists on watching another documentary on Ancient Egypt. The conversation between you two escalates into a debate, with Steven winning, to say the least. Winning in a sense that you’re this close to agreeing and just watching the documentary, but you aren’t one to back down so easily. That’s the exact reason why your hands start moving towards his sides, right where he’s most ticklish. The back of his ears are pretty ticklish too, but those areas aren’t exactly accessible to you at the moment, so his sides will do.

Laughter resonates in the flat, a mix of both his and yours, while Steven’s hands desperately try to fight and tickle you right back. However, it barely works, having been too distracted by your fingers poking, prodding, and wiggling at his sides. By the time he starts panting and begging for you to quit it, you’ve already managed to wiggle your way on top of him.

“Do you yield?” You grin, sliding off his frame as you push your hair back in an attempt to fix it.

“God. You’re lucky I love you. If you were anyone else, literally anyone, I think I would’ve tried harder to get to you. Would’ve been mad at you too.”

That catches you by surprise. Sure, you’ve been friends with Steven for quite a while now, but the L word was never thrown around like that. You had both agreed that saying “I” before “love you” makes things a lot more personal than saying the two words alone.

“You what?”

Marc: It was a rare occasion that you could get Marc Spector out of the house, and it was an even rarer occasion that he would agree to come with you to a local carnival. So, the second he suggests that you two go there for your next date, you jump on board the idea immediately. The day is mainly filled with going on rides, taking photos in the photobooths scattered around the lot, and you even managed to make Marc break his diet for a couple carnival sweets. So, to say that the day is going pretty well is an understatement–that is, of course, until you both agree to play the carnival games available to you. The thing is, there’s always been a competitive side to both of you, so when Marc suggests going through the different games and fighting to see who would win more prizes by the end of the night, you have to agree.

It’s almost unbelievable how many games he wins, especially given that he even wins the ones he used to be terrible at. The bean bag toss, the ring toss, the cup game, knocking down the cans, hell, he even manages to win Steven another goldfish for the tank in addition to the two that they already had.

“What the hell, Marc? How and why did you suddenly get so good at carnival games? Been training or something?” You asked, shoving the little stuffed toys you both won into a bag you purchased from one of the stalls. Was it overpriced? Of course it was, but there was no way you were carrying home this many stuffed toys in your two arms while Marc carries the beloved goldfish in one hand and the remaining toys in the other.

“Well, I may have gotten a bit of help? Steven’s got a pretty good understanding of the science behind the games and calculating the physics or whatever it is that we need to win, sooo…”

You obviously gape at the confession, straightening up your back as your eyes lock on his, causing him to smile rather cheekily at you.

“But hey! Before you tell me off for cheating or whatever, look at all the toys we got! And the newest addition to our goldfish family at home! We saved a life, you know. Could name them after you.”

"Marc!"

Jake: It’s a confession that comes in the middle of an argument. You’ve always known that Jake was one to splurge when it comes to buying things for himself. He spoils himself silly, and doing so, spoils Marc and Steven as well. Sure, they had differences when it came to their preferences, but they did share a couple likes and interests. You never had a problem with it–they do deserve it after all. However, when his spending habit started extending to you, as much as you appreciated his gestures, there was something telling you that you just didn’t deserve it. You tried telling him that he didn’t need to get you all these things, but he insisted, stating that his best friend deserves everything in the world. You inferred that one of his love languages was through gifts, so you let the smaller ones slide.

The fight ensues on the day that he presents you with a nicely wrapped box, which holds a rather expensive bracelet.

It was the one he caught you staring at the other day when you were out window shopping. Honestly speaking, you didn’t think that any of them would remember it, given that it didn’t seem like Jake was paying attention, having been distracted by the other things on display.

It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, but you saw the price and it definitely was not worth buying, especially not as a gift for you.

“Jake, this is too much, yeah? I’m thankful for it, I really am, but didn’t I tell you to stop buying things for me?” You asked, running your index finger over the rim of the bracelet before bringing your attention to him.

“Too much? Why would that be too much?” Jake asked, his brows furrowed. “Do you not like it, mariposa? I just thought it was the one you wanted back at the store. I could take it back and replace it. No es gran cosa.”

“Jake.” You repeat his name a little more firmly than you did earlier, closing the box and transferring it into his hands. You choose to ignore his second question, “If you said this isn’t a big deal, I swear. It is a big deal! You can’t just… you can’t go off and spend that much money for me, Jake!”

The rise in the volume of your voice takes him by surprise, causing him to tilt his head. “You’re mad because I bought you a bracelet? Querida…”

You barely give him enough time to finish the sentence before you continue, “No. I’m not going to take any reasons from you, Jake Lockley. There isn’t any reason in the world for you to spend this much money on me, and for what? You should already know that I love you for you, not because of how much money you have or whatever. I don’t need gifts from you, Jake. I don’t need anything else, okay?”

“Wait, you love me?” He asked, his eyes glinting with a spark of hope–not that you would notice, really. You failed to notice the smile forming on his lips too.

“What?” Your eyes nearly bugged out, having only realized what you said when he repeated it.

“What do you mean ‘what’? You said you love me!”

"When did I-"

"Te amo también, mariposa."

"What?!"

"What?" He grinned.

[dragonsareourfuture]

Ways the Death Note Cast Show They Trust You

I lost some inspiration towards the middle there, I’m sorry!!

L

- he will always have Watari make extra servings of food just for you. It’s a bit startling at first. So suddenly there’s just food in front of you that you think is for L, but when you push it towards him, he pushes it right back to you.

“You don’t want it?” He’d ask, leaving you confused until you finally put the pieces together.

“Oh, I…I guess I didn’t realize it was for me. My bad.” You begin eating. “Thank you.”

L simply hums and continues with whatever he was just up to.

- You know that thing cats do where they’re sitting perfectly still, eyes closed, guard slightly down, but still not quite asleep? I can picture L doing something like this during any moment of downtime he gets. Just sitting, scrunched up in his chair or wherever he happens to be, eyes closed but the cogs in his brain are still turning. You notice him doing this when it is only you and him in the room, simply thinking it’s because of the moment of rare solitude. Little do you know, it’s because he trusts that you won’t hurt him or let anything bad happen to him.

- L is a person who prefers to be in charge of his own life. He likes knowing what’s going on around him at all times and when things are out of his hands he can’t help but feel uncomfortable. However, with a person he’s developed a close relationship with and knows he can trust with everything he has, L will feel more comfortable leaving decisions up to them. You’ll have to start small though, like being the one to plan a surprise date. He might feel a bit uncomfy at the beginning, shifting around and possibly even insisting he sit so that he can see the exits clearly, but he eases into it eventually. Soon you both find yourselves joking around in the odd way that you do and gorging on cake and ice cream.

Mello

- being vulnerable is something Mello isn’t too keen on. He already feels vulnerable most of the time and would kick himself if he let that show through his actions. If Mello truly trusts you, he will feel as though he can be vulnerable around you without any judgement on your end. Small acts that show vulnerability such as asking you to help him with something he can’t quite handle on his own — even if it’s something as simple as not being able to reach something off a shelf or being unsure about how to fix something. Eventually, he’ll work his way up to the bigger stuff like being physically wounded in front of you or having a mental block.

- Sharing his clothes with you or letting you pick his outfit for him. Now, it sounds like he’s just being a little diva and that’s only partially true. But his clothes are important to him, they’re a factor that sets him aside from his plain-dressing rival and in his eyes they make him more interesting than him, visually at least. He’s happy to dress you up, and it is true that he has to have a close relationship with you to want to do so, but you should be especially proud if he lets you alter his appearance in any way.

- He likes to believe that he’s had his goals set out from the beginning. Surpass Near, become the next L, and go on from there. What he pushes to the back of his brain are the moments he’s been studying and he’s asked himself ‘What if I went down a different path?’. He quickly pushes these thoughts away, but they keep coming back. What would life be like if this wasn’t an option for him? What if he were a writer? What if he lived in the city with people he loves and went to the movies every Friday? Unwillingly, he has a whole list of possibilities. If he truly trusts you, he’ll share every single one with you. Whether it’s dropping hints or confessing them one by one late at night, he can’t help but feel that they’re safe with you.

Misa

- it seems a bit surface level, but it’s true — Misa will talk down on Light in front of you if she trusts you. But it’s not straight away. She had developed a lot of courage to actually break up with him, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still doubt her decision to do so. It’s only when she finds out from you how loved ones are supposed to treat each other — with kindness and respect — that she feels her decision to ditch Light was the entirely right one. Slowly, she’ll start to admit to you all the things she hated about Light, starting with some of his mannerisms and building up to something like how he forced her to leave the entertainment business.

- Misa is…dramatic. She likes to go above and beyond for someone she’s infatuated with and make sure they’re the happiest they can be. If she trusts you enough to develop this kind of infatuation and, with some development, less of an obsession and more of a strong, bonding love, you will be doted on to the point where it’s almost ridiculous. You could be at home during one of her work days and you’ll get a delivery of lunch from your favorite takeout place because Misa was ‘thinking of you <3’, as she explains when you text her asking why food randomly showed up at your place. It’s rather sweet.

- Misa’s a pretty talkative person in general, that’s a well known fact. She’ll talk about clothes, a cute birdie she saw on her way home, really anything that comes to mind. But, she’ll do that with about anyone who’ll listen. It’s gradual, so it’s hard to notice, but if Misa grows to trust you she’ll start talking about some of the more serious things that have been on her mind for a while, those things that she thought would scare off anyone she liked because of how personal they are to her. Her family before they died, for example. It’s something that Misa thinks about. So much. But she doesn’t really talk about it. She wants to forget, put the past behind her but because she’s never talked about it with anyone it’s hard to do that. She’ll talk about her family to you, the little things her sister used to do and some things her parents did that she misses.

Matsuda

- Matsuda often begins to idolize those who he thinks are trustworthy and have a good heart. He starts to tell you how much he loves when you do x and that he wishes he could perform as well as you in that area. In a sense, he trusts you with his vulnerability, letting you know that he thinks of himself as less than satisfactory and how he wishes he could do better, only he channels it by pointing out good things about you. If…that makes sense.

- This sounds dire, but he’ll risk his life for the people he completely, without a doubt trusts. He was willing to do so with Chief Yagami, someone he saw as a father figure, and he would certainly be willing to do so with you, someone who he feels he has a deep emotional connection to. Whether you’re in a situation where he would need to or he’s just saying that he would, he means it.

- Matsuda trusts you to not make fun of him when he overshares or talks too much or anything his coworkers brush him off for. He feels that he can talk about things he finds funny and talk about his life without worrying about what you think of him when he does.

Matt

- he would drop everything to help you. Whether that’s dropping his game to help you kill a bug or leaving his duties behind to help you out of a life or death situation. Whichever scenario you happen to find yourself in he’s there no matter what.

- He’ll invite you into his personal life. I know this is kind of a given but Matt had the chance to become the next L. He had the chance to become something “great” and he said “ummm rather not” to it because it wasn’t something he wanted. If he shares this information with you, he trusts you not to leave him for something better when you discover the status he could have had and refused. He trusts you to appreciate him because of him and not the intelligence everyone but him cherishes.

- He leaves you alone around important technology and software he’s hacked. Unfortunately for him, betrayal comes with the business he’s got himself into and, if Matt really trusts you on both a professional and emotional level, he won’t have a problem worrying about whether or not you’ll take advantage of his coffee break to gather information for some other organization or something. He will literally just go “mkay babe I gotta go fuel up on caffeine real quick, you’re good watching the hacked government database right? Cool cya.”

Near

- Near trusts you to take him to public places. Sounds simple, yeah. But Near has never liked crowds, or even just too many strangers in a wide open place. It’s strange to everyone observing how one day he decides he needs a new toy, his old one having broken due to old age, and asks you to take him to the toy store. He’s questioned, people wondering why he wouldn’t rather you just go alone but Near insists. Apparently the toy that broke is special addition and he wants to make sure you get the right one. He stays close to you the whole way, not really saying much, but he’s there and that’s a big step for him.

- He helps you out with puzzles. Basically cheats for you. When he’s eyeing one specific empty slot, coughing lightly to get your attention, just know that he’s not helping you because he thinks you need it. Quite the opposite actually. With anyone else, he believes that they should be able to solve it on their own. He thinks that if they can’t, then that’s their fault. But with you…it’s as if he trusts that you’re intelligent enough without the puzzle being an indicator of that intelligence, so much so that he thinks the puzzle itself is obsolete when it comes to you. He doesn’t need a puzzle to know how smart you are.

- He’ll eat the foods you make him. Near’s picky eater-ness is above that of a child who only eats chicken tenders and pizza. He doesn’t eat that many people’s food because he knows it’s probably not he way he likes it. But with you, he trusts that you respect his eating habits and know him well enough to get it right the first time. Though he does check the food out for a bit, he’ll eat it. Sometimes all of it. Fuckin astonishing to Rester who had attempted many times to heat up microwave dinners for the guy.

[bruno-madrigal-writings]

Hello! I found your blog and got so excited because I've been looking for someone who writes for Encanto!! Can you please do something with Bruno and a tomboyish mechanic reader?

So like, even though Luisa is the strong one, she still doesn't know how to fix a busted pipe or car breaks, so this metalsmith and mechanic moves to Encanto and starts working there. And he meets her because she's like working under a car but when she slides out from underneath it he sees her face and just gets so flustered!!!

Like personally I'm very short (4' 11") but I also really like physical labor and I both make jewelry and do mechanics, so I'd love to see something like that. Thanks so much!! I hope you're doing well hun.

I’m not sure Encanto would have cars per say, but! I don’t see why they wouldn’t have some tractors!

The Mechanic -

Pairing: Bruno x fem!reader

1.1k words

Read on AO3

-

There was a new mechanic in town. 

Bruno had heard about it from members of the family, talking about how useful it was to have someone who knew what they were doing with mechanics and technology and the lot. They could actually use the tractors they had now that they had someone who knew how to fix them and keep them working. It was as exciting as town news got in Encanto, which meant everyone was talking about it.

It was on the third or fourth day after they moved into town that Alma decided it was about time to pay their new resident a visit. 

“Bruno, why don’t you come with me?”

His head snapped up from where he had been staring at his breakfast plate, eyes big.

“Real-really? Why? I mean, why me exactly? You could take Mirabel or Isabella or …”

“It’ll do you some good, Brunito, spending some time outside the house and meeting new people.”

And she said it with such finality, leaving no room for argument. He just winced and nodded. She was right, afterall. He needed to get out of his comfort zone. 

So, they walked in town together that day, arm and arm. His hands itched with the need to pull his hood up, the townspeople's eyes on him. Even after his ten year absence, they still held some … less than desirable beliefs about him and his gift. Mirabel had been very adamant about correcting them, convincing everyone else in the family to do the same. At least, she convinced the grandkids. Julieta and Pepa didn’t need convincing. 

He smiled, recalling when Pepa nearly struck that rude man with lightning when she heard what he had been saying about Bruno. Julieta was more than willing to sit back and watch, not doing a thing to prevent it. Bruno himself had to step in to calm them down.

The thought helped. He managed to get through town without pulling his hood up.

They came up to the mechanics shop. It had to be specially built after the new resident arrived, allowing a large doorway to fit whatever vehicle through so they can work on it properly. As they approached, Bruno could hear a radio playing, the grainy music filling the streat. It looked like they were already working on a tractor in the garage. All Bruno could see when they reached the large doorway was a pair of legs, the rest of the person managed to somehow fit under the vehicle. 

Alma cleared her throat and the figure froze before shouting.

“One sec, just let me finish … this … one thing …”

There was the sound of metal on metal, then shuffling as they finally pull themself out from underneath the machinery.

Bruno’s breath caught in his throat and he knew he was staring but he couldn’t look away.

She had to be the most beautiful woman he had even seen. Even if she was a bit dirty, oil smudges on the gray sleeveless shirt, well defined arms glistening with sweat. Her hair had so many flyaways, some strands sticking to her skin. Her eyes were the most beautiful he had ever seen, almost glowing with warmth, and her smile alone nearly knocked him off his feet.

Alma was saying something, but he wasn’t really processing what. Because he was staring, and he really shouldn’t be. He should look away. He should stare at something else, something that wouldn’t consider him rude for doing so.

With so much difficulty, more difficult than it should have been, he managed to tear his eyes away from her, glancing around the shop, at the different tools and parts and sheets of metal. He pretended they were the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

“Gracias! I’ve loved my time here so far, even if it has only been a few days.” He heard her saying. Even her voice was the most beautiful he had ever heard. “I feel so welcomed! I’m sure it won’t be long before it feels like home.”

“Fantástica! I’m so glad you found your way to us. We were in desperate need for a mechanic of your skill.” Bruno nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt someone grabbing at his elbow, looking over to his mother who was smiling politely. “And this is my only son, Bruno.” She presented him to the other woman.

He shuffled his feet nervously, forced to look down at the beautiful woman, her stunning smile now being given in his direction. 

“Uh, hi.”

“Hola! I’m Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She offered her hand, hesitantly, he took it, shocked by the strength of her handshake. 

“Um …”

He wasn’t sure what to say. What was he supposed to say to someone so effortlessly stunning? He raked his brain for something, anything, so he wasn’t just standing there like an idiot. 

“I like your necklace.” He finally landed on. It was true. She had a very beautiful necklace on, small plates of metal intricately carved with a swirling design and butterflies, each connected by a delicate chain, just big enough to hold it close around her neck.

She seemed flattered by the comment, the corner of her eyes crinkling, a hand going up to run a finger over it.

“Gracias, Bruno! I made it myself.”

“Really?” His mama said, stepping forward to stand by his side and get a good look for herself. “It’s quite beautiful. Do you sell them?”

“Ah,” She looked a bit nervous from the question. “No, I’ve never sold any of the jewelry I've made before. It’s … more of a hobby, really. Sometimes I’ll give pieces as gifts, but that’s about it.”

Alma hummed and nodded her head in acknowledgment, but looked unconvinced.

“You should consider it! I’m sure you would do well.”

She shrugged, looking like that was one of the last things she wanted to do.

“Perhaps. Some day.”

“I’m sure you’ll do well enough with mechanics, though.” Bruno offered with an encouraging smile. “You wouldn’t need to do jewelry if you didn’t want to.”

She looked a bit relieved to have the out from his mother’s pressure. She nodded, her perfect smile on him. He could feel his face heat up, the butterflies eating him from the inside out. He had to look away or he felt like he would burst, so he stared over at the tractor instead. Yes, what a very interesting tractor. Very fascinating.

He missed the glance the two women shared or the smirk on Y/N’s face. 

“I suppose we should be going.” Alma said. “I’m delighted to hear you’re settling in well. I hope we see each other again soon.”

“Gracias, Señora! Buenos dias!” 

Bruno didn’t really want to leave, even if the woman left him a flustered mess with just a smile. But, he dutifully followed his mother.

On the way out, he could hear her shout something that made his face heat up again.

“Bye, Bruno! See you again soon!”

He really hoped so.

[be-gay-do-heists]

hello yall :) the holy month of elul started last night, which is typically a time for contemplation, so since it is impossible for me to stop thinking about leverage, i decided to write an essay. hope anyone interested in reading it enjoys, and that it makes at least a little sense!! spoilers for leverage redemption

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Leverage, Judaism, and “Doing the Work”: An Essay for Elul

When it comes to Elul and the approaching High Holidays, Leverage might seem like an odd topic to meditate on.

The TNT crime drama that ran from 2008-2012, and which released a new season this summer following its renewal, centers on a group of found-family thieves who help the victims of corporations and oligarchs (sometimes based on real-world examples), using wacky heists and cons to bring down the rich and powerful. In one episode, the team’s clients want to reclaim their father’s prized Glimt piece that had been stolen in the Shoah and never returned, but aside from this and the throwaway lines and jokes standard for most mainstream television, there’s not a ton textually Jewish about Leverage. However, despite this, I have found that the show has strong resonance among Jewish fans, and lots of potential for analysis along Jewish themes. This tends to focus on one character in particular: the group’s brilliant, pop culture-savvy, and personable hacker, Alec Hardison, played by the phenomenally talented Aldis Hodge.

I can’t remember when or where I first encountered a reading of Hardison as Jewish, but not only is this a somewhat popular interpretation, it doesn’t feel like that much of a leap. In the show itself, Hardison has a couple of the aforementioned throwaway lines that potentially point to him being Jewish, even if they’re only in service of that moment’s grift. It’s hard to point to what exactly makes reading Hardison as Jewish feel so natural. My first guess is the easy way Hardison fits into the traditional paradigms of Jewish masculinity explored by scholars such as Daniel Boyarin (2). Most of the time, the hacker is not portrayed as athletic or physical; he is usually the foil to the team’s more physically-adept characters like fighter Eliot, or thief Parker. Indeed, Hardison’s strength is mental, expressed not only through his computer wizardry but his passions for science, technology, music, popular media, as well as his studious research into whatever scenario the group might come up against. In spite of his self-identification as a “geek,” Hardison is nevertheless confident, emotionally sensitive, and secure in his masculinity. I would argue he is representative of the traditional Jewish masculine ideal, originating in the rabbinic period and solidified in medieval Europe, of the dedicated and thoughtful scholar (3). Another reason for popular readings of Hardison as Jewish may be the desire for more representation of Jews of color. Although mainstream American Jewish institutions are beginning to recognize the incredible diversity of Jews in the United States (4), and popular figures such as Tiffany Haddish are amplifying the experiences of non-white Jews, it is still difficult to find Jews of color represented in popular media. For those eager to see this kind of representation, then, interpreting Hardison, a black man who places himself tangential to Jewishness, in this way is a tempting avenue.

Regardless, all of the above remains fan interpretation, and there was little in the text of the show that seriously tied Judaism into Hardison’s identity. At least, until we got this beautiful speech from Hardison in the very first episode of the renewed show, directed at the character of Harry Wilson, a former corporate lawyer looking to atone for the injustice he was partner to throughout his career:

“In the Jewish faith, repentance, redemption, is a process. You can’t make restitution and then promise to change. You have to change first. Do the work, Harry. Then and only then can you begin to ask for forgiveness. [...] So this… this isn’t the win. It’s the start, Harry.”

I was floored to hear this speech, and thrilled that it explained the reboot’s title, Leverage: Redemption. Although not mentioned by its Hebrew name, teshuvah forms the whole basis for the new season. Teshuvah is the concept of repentance or atonement for the sins one has committed. Stemming from the root shuv/shuva, it carries the literal sense of “return.” In a spiritual context, this usually means a return to G-d, of finding one’s way back to holiness and by extension good favor in the eyes of the Divine. But equally important is restoring one’s relationships with fellow humans by repairing any hurt one has caused over the past year. This is of special significance in the holy month of Elul, leading into Rosh haShanah, the Yamim Noraim, and Yom Kippur, but one can undertake a journey of redemption at any point in time. That teshuvah is a journey is a vital message for Harry to hear; one job, one reparative act isn’t enough to overturn years of being on the wrong side of justice, to his chagrin. As the season progresses, we get to watch his path of teshuvah unfold, with all its frustrations and consequences. Harry grows into his role as a fixer, not only someone who can find jobs and marks for the team, but fixes what he has broken or harmed.

So why was Hardison the one to make this speech?

I do maintain that it does provide a stronger textual basis for reading Hardison as Jewish by implication (though the brief on-screen explanation for why he knows about teshuvah, that his foster-parent Nana raised a multi-faith household, is important in its own merit, and meshes well with his character traits of empathy and understanding for diverse experiences). However, beyond this, Hardison isn’t exactly an archetypical model for teshuvah. In the original series, he was the youngest character of the main ensemble, a hacking prodigy in the start of his adult career, with few mistakes or slights against others under his belt. In one flashback we see that his possibly first crime was stealing from the Bank of Iceland to pay off his Nana’s medical bills, and that his other early hacking exploits were in the service of fulfilling personal desires, with only those who could afford to pay the bill as targets. Indeed, in the middle of his speech, Hardison points to Eliot, the character with the most violent and gritty past who views his work with the Leverage team as atonement, for a prime example of ongoing teshuvah. So while no one is perfect and everyone has a reason for doing teshuvah, this question of why Hardison is the one to give this series-defining speech inspired me to look at his character choices and behavior, and see how they resonate with a different but interrelated Jewish principle, that of tikkun olam. 

Tikkun olam is literally translated as “repairing the world,” and can take many different forms, such as protecting the rights of vulnerable people in society, or giving tzedakah (5). In modern times, tikkun olam is often the rallying cry for Jewish social activists, particularly among environmentalists for whom literally restoring the health of the natural world is the key goal. Teshuvah and tikkun olam are intertwined (the former is the latter performed at an interpersonal level) and both hold a sense of fixing or repairing, but tikkun olam really revolves around a person feeling called to address an injustice that they may have not had a personal hand in creating. Hardison’s sense of a universal scale of justice which he has the power to help right on a global level and his newfound drive to do humanitarian work, picked up sometime after the end of the original series, make tikkun olam a central value for his character. This is why we get this nice bit of dialogue from Eliot to Hardison in the second episode of the reboot, when the latter’s outside efforts to organize international aid start distracting him from his work with the team: “Is [humanitarian work] a side gig? In our line of work, you’re one of the best. But in that line of work… you’re the only one, man.” The character who most exemplifies teshuvah reminds Hardison of his amazing ability to effect change for the better on a huge stage, to do some effective tikkun olam. It’s this acknowledgement of where Hardison can do the most good that prompts the character’s absence for the remainder of the episodes released thus far, turning his side gig into his main gig.

With this in mind, it will be interesting to see where Hardison’s arc for this season goes. Separated from the rest of the team, the hacker still has remarkable power to change the world, because it is, after all, the “age of the geek.” However, he is still one person. For all that both teshuvah and tikkun olam are individual responsibilities and require individual decision-making and effort, the latter especially relies on collective work to actually make things happen. Hardison leaving is better than trying to do humanitarian work and Leverage at the same time, but there’s only so long he can be the “only one” in the field before burning out. I’m reminded of one of the most famous (for good reason) maxims in Judaism:

It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you free to neglect it. (6)

Elul is traditionally a time for introspection and heeding the calls to repentance. After a year where it’s never been easier to feel powerless and drained by everything going on around us, I think it’s worth taking the time to examine what kind of work we are capable of in our own lives. Maybe it’s fixing the very recent and tangible hurts we’ve left behind, like Harry. Maybe it’s the little changes for the better that we make every day, motivated by our sense of responsibility, like Eliot. And maybe it’s the grueling challenge of major social change, like Hardison. And if any of this work gets too much, who can we fall back on for support and healing? Determining what needs repair, working on our own scale and where our efforts are most helpful, and thereby contributing to justice in realistic ways means that we can start the new year fresh, having contemplated in holiday fashion how we can be better agents in the world.

Shana tovah u’metukah and ketivah tovah to all (7), and may the work we do in the coming year be for good!

------

(1) Disclaimer: everybody’s fandom experiences are different, and this is just what I’ve picked up on in my short time watching and enjoying this show with others.

(2) See, for example, the introduction and first chapter of Boyarin’s book Unheroic Conduct: The Rise of Heterosexuality and the Invention of the Jewish Man (I especially recommend at least this portion if you are interested in queer theory and Judaic studies). There he explores the development of Jewish masculinity in direct opposition to Christian masculine standards.

(3) I might even go so far as to place Hardison well within the Jewish masculine ideal of Edelkayt, gentle and studious nobility (although I would hesitate to call him timid, another trait associated with Edelkayt). Boyarin explains that this scholarly, non-athletic model of man did not carry negative associations in the historical Jewish mindset, but was rather the height of attractiveness (Boyarin, 2, 51).

(4) Jews of color make up 20% of American Jews, according to statistics from Be’chol Lashon, and this number is projected to increase as American demographics continue to change: https://globaljews.org/about/mission/. 

(5) Tzedakah is commonly known as righteous charity. According to traditional authority Maimonides, it should be given anonymously and without embarrassment to the person in need, generous, and designed to help the recipient become self-sufficient.

(6) Rabbi Tarfon, Pirkei Avot, 2:16

(7) “A good and sweet year” and “a good inscription [in the Book of Life]”

[wiypt-writes]

You Cut A Mean Rug, Doll Face

Bucky Barnes One Shot

Summary: It’s no secret that Bucky Barnes has women falling at his feet, but it’s very rarely the other way round. He’s the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, well according to Steve anyway. So, when you find him hiding to avoid a certain Private’s advances, it amuses you no end…until she shows up and you find yourself offering to be his ‘Fake Date’ for Stark’s upcoming USO Gala Dance.

Fake Dating in the middle of a war…what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Bad language words. Smut. (NSFW 18+)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N:  So this is written as part of @anika-ann​’s 1111 Follower Challenge. Congratulations darling! My prompt was Fake Dating.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

 **********

“Hey, Steve.” You greeted the blonde super soldier as you walked into the little make-shift kitchen, deep in the underground London SSR HQ.

“Afternoon, Agent.” He nodded and you rolled your eyes, picking a piece of fluff off your khaki green uniform jacket.

“Seriously, after everything we’ve pulled together we’re still at agent?” You raised an eyebrow drawing a soft chuckle from the man in front of you as he poured a coffee into one of the tin mugs on offer, holding it out to you.

“Sorry, force of habit. Y/N. That better?”

“Much.” You nodded, taking the mug with a thanks, pulling a face as you took a sip. “God, all the technology we have and I still can’t get a decent cup of Joe.”

“Maybe you should have a word with Stark.” Steve shrugged. “He seems to be able to lay his hands on most things, rationing be dammed.”

“Well, you’re the man with the plan and he’s the man that can.” A smirk pulled at your face as you watched Steve fight the urge to roll his eyes. “Anyway, where’s Barnes? Colonel Phillips is riding my ass about a report he hasn’t filed. Keeps moaning on about us being unable to run strategic operations if we don’t actually do any strategizing.”

At that Steve’s face broke into a grin. “He’s hiding.”

“Hiding?” You frowned. “Chester isn’t that scary, he’s a pussy cat if you figure out how to make him purr.”

“Okay there are so many things wrong with what you just said that I’m not even going to go into.” Steve snorted and you flashed him a grin as he continued. “He ain’t hiding from Phillips, he’s hiding from Private Lorraine.”

“Why?” You paused, mug hovering an inch or so from your mouth.

“Well according to Stark who heard from Jones who heard from-“

“Yeah, yeah, skip to the interesting bit about why Barnes his hiding like the cowardly lion” You cut him off and he raised his eyebrows, his smirk growing wider.

“She wants him to ask her to that USO dance gala thing Stark is hosting.”

At that you felt the heat in your neck, jealousy, at the thought of the blue-eyed solider you’d been harbouring a crush on for months, like some love sick teenager, dancing with someone else. You carefully held Steve’s eyes and licked your lips, hoping you hadn’t given yourself away too much.

“Of course she does.” You shrugged, clearing your throat. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Why is he hiding?”

“He doesn’t want to go with her.” Steve shrugged, taking another sip of his drink and this time you did absolutely nothing to stop the grin that spread across your face.

“How come?”

At that Steve hesitated for a moment before he popped a shoulder again, slightly avoiding your eye line. "No idea."

You knew he was lying, he was notoriously bad at it, but before you could call him out, a deep voice spoke from the doorway.

"Sure your Ma told you it was rude to talk about people behind their backs, Stevie." Bucky grumbled as he walked into the room.

"Yeah, and I'm sure yours told you it was rude to do a lot of things that you still do anyway." Steve shot back and Bucky merely rolled his eyes, walking to the coffee pot and helping himself. 

"Well, I’m astounded." You looked at Bucky as he turned around, leaning slightly against the small units that lined the room. "James Buchanan Barnes is fanning a woman away."

"Yeah, I don’t make a habit of it, Doll Face." He eyed you shrewdly over his mug.

"Still, never thought I'd see the day." You hummed, sipping your drink.

Bucky rolled his eyes and gestured with his mug towards Steve. "Now you sound like him."

"So, humour me, Barnes. What is it about her that’s making you run for the hills?"

Bucky hesitated for a moment before he winkled his nose and answered you. "She’s not my type."

"Really? I thought every woman was your type." 

At that, Steve gave a chuckle. "She's got you there, Buck. I don't think I saw you without one before you shipped off."

"Shut up, Steve." Bucky bit back before he gave a low groan. "She's just..."

"Just what?" You scoffed. "Tall, blonde with big, come-to-bed eyes and pouty red lips? What's not to fall over? Dum Dum follows her around like a dog."

"Sweetheart, Dum Dum would probably chase a pig wearing lipstick if he thought he had a chance." Bucky looked at you his eyebrow raised and you heard Steve give a little snort of laughter. You turned slowly to him, and his eyes widened a little as you narrowed your eyes.

"What's your excuse?"

"His excuse?" Bucky paused, mug poised at his lips as Steve began to flounder over his words, a pink flush spreading into his cheeks.

“Yeah, he kissed her.” You informed and Buck gave a loud groan, placing his mug down on the side. "Peggy caught them, big time."

"She kissed me." Steve protested and at that Bucky sighed. 

"What has my life become? Seriously?" He shook his head, his eyes flicking between you and Steve. "I’m hiding because I don’t wanna go dancing with some broad whilst this punks beating ‘em off with a stick."

"Shield." You corrected as Steve made an exasperated noise in his throat.

"I’m in a nightmare, right?" Bucky finished.

"’Fraid not, Buckaroo." You placed your now empty mug besides his on the wooden counter. "But I suggest that you get your report to me on the Dresden raid or you really will be in a bad dream. Colonel Phillips wants them pronto and I'm not taking the flack because you're too lazy to do it."

Bucky groaned. "How am I supposed to think about that with all this other shit going on?"

"Nice to see you have your priorities straight." Steve scoffed and Bucky glared at him but before he could reply, a loud girly laugh filled the kitchen and you saw Bucky still.

"There you are!" Private Lorraine spoke and you exchanged a glance with Steve, a look of utter glee spreading across his face at his friend's discomfort. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, Sergeant Barnes."

"Now what on Earth would give you that idea?" You quipped. As usual, she completely ignored you and watched as Bucky turned to look at her.

"Well, you found me." He nodded, a false smile spreading across his face.

"Yeah, I did. So, err, this dance, do you have a date or..."

Bucky took a deep breath, "well, the thing is..."

"Yes, he does." You blurted out, before you could stop yourself. You stepped forward and slipped your hand into his, ignoring the shocked look he gave you as you stood by his side. "He's going with me."

"You?" Lorraine looked at you, her eyebrows shooting up so high they almost disappeared into her hairline.

"Yes, me." You smiled. "So, you'll have to find someone else to go with. I think Duggan might be free."

"Well, suppose there's no accounting for taste." The blonde woman in front of you looked you up and down and you bristled under her glare, your nostrils flaring angrily. Sure, you might not have her model looks, hell, you might not even be conventionally pretty in some eyes, but you sure weren’t going to make her let you feel like shit. You'd been brought up by a loving family who made you realise your worth and that despite what anyone else said, you were just as good as them. You continued to hold her gaze and eventually she licked her lips and looked away.

"Well, erm, that's..." she clicked her tongue against her cheek, before deciding to cut her losses and she left the room.

The three of you stood in silence before Bucky turned to look at you, a smirk spreading across his face. "You, are a genius!" He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you swallowed slightly, feeling the heat in your neck. "I owe you, big time."

"Yeah, you do." You shrugged. "You can start by doing that damned report. And then you’re buying me a drink at the Gala, seeing as we're, you know, fake dating."

"You got it, Doll." Bucky saluted, flashing you a wink.

"Fake dating?" Steve muttered, and you turned to look at him as he shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. "I've heard it all now."

You cleared you throat, and removed your hand from where it was still in Bucky’s and swallowed. "I need to get going. That report, Barnes. Don’t forget."

"Anything for you, Darlin'." Bucky grinned.

You gave him a last little smile, and then turned leaving the room letting out an inward groan.

What the hell had you just got yourself into?

****

“Why did I do this?” You sighed, looking at your reflection in the mirror, shaking your head.

“Because you’re sweet on him.” Peggy matter of factly replied and you shot her a look in the mirror. She gave you a knowing smirk and you sighed.

“I just felt sorry for him, okay?”

“Sorry for him?”

“Yeah, you know what she’s like, she wouldn’t leave him alone.”

“Admirable.” Peggy nodded, stepping forward so she was behind you, reaching up to fix another pin into your up do. “So what’s your master plan? Act the part tonight and break up tomorrow?”

You shrugged. “Haven’t thought that far.”

“I doubt you’ve thought at all.”  The brunette looked at you, her perfectly shaped eyebrow raising slightly.

“You know, you and Steve really are a match made in heaven.” You scoffed, stepping to the side as you smoothed down the dress you were wearing. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it traced your curves perfectly and made a nice change from the uniform you spent every day wearing. “Go take your righteous indignation and discuss it with him. That is if you’re speaking to him this week, I can never keep up.”

At that Peggy pursed her lips. “We’re not discussing me and Steve, we’re discussing you and how you’re going to get through the next however long pretending to date someone you actually want to date.”

“Well, it could be worse.” You shrugged.

“How?”

“I could be about to spend however long pretending to date someone I don’t like.”

Peggy looked at you for a second and you held her gaze, challenging her to say anything more on the matter. Eventually she merely raised her eyebrows before she turned and looked at the clock.

“We should go.”

With a deep breath you took one last glance at your reflection, grabbed the small clutch from the cot in your room and followed her out.

*****

The small dancehall in London's Soho District was packed with soldiers and civilian staff alike, and you accepted the drink offered to you by a waiter as you entered the main room, the Big Band already playing a bluesy-jazz number as background music, whilst people stood around the room, chatting. It didn’t take you long to locate Bucky. He was stood with Steve and the rest of the Howlies by the bar, all of them dressed in their best uniforms. Taking a deep breath, those pesky butterflies fluttering away in your stomach, you made your way over with Peggy and she let out an annoyed sigh as the men all blatantly looked the pair of you up and down.

“You’d think they’d never seen a woman before.” She mumbled and you scoffed out a laugh.

“Well, we’ve been running missions with them for that long maybe they’ve forgotten that we actually have boobs and a vagina.”

At that Peggy stopped to look at you, and the pair of you started to laugh.

“You are so uncouth.” She shook her head at you, as you linked your arm through hers and continued your path towards your team.

“Like I said, I’ve been in the field with these bozos for over a year, guess their bad habits are rubbing off on me.”

“Well, as long as that’s all that’s rubbing off on you.”

“Agent Carter!” Your mouth fell open in mock horror, turning to look at her as she continued facing forward, her lips quirked up at one side in a barely there smirk. “Now who’s being uncouth?”

“Ladies.” Dum-Dum greeted you with a tip of his bowler as you approached and you nodded to him, smiling before you turned to look at Bucky.

“Wow.” His eyes flicked up and down your form again, and you swallowed, a warm feeling spreading over you as his eyes took in your outfit and when his eyes finally met yours he cleared his throat and you gave him a small smile. “You err, look great. I mean, compared to how you usually look.”

At that Falsworth, Dum-Dum, Dernier, Jones and Morita all snorted as Steve let out a groan.

“Thanks. I think.” You frowned.

“No, I err…I didn’t mean it like that.” Bucky hastily began to back track as Dernier mumbled something in French, of which you caught the words ‘stupid idiot’, Jones hastily agreeing. “I just, well, it’s different to how I’ve seen you before.”

“Well a tight dress and courts ain’t exactly practical for hiking through woods and mounting stealth operations.” You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. “But for the record, you look exactly the same as you usually do.”

At that the men all roared with laughter as Bucky sighed, dropping his head. “Guess I asked for that.”

Bucky watched as you gave him a small grin, before you turned to talk to Jones, and he took the chance to observe you properly. You looked good. You always did in his eyes but tonight, you were a knock out. Your dress hugged the curves of your thighs and hips, nipping in at the waist with a neckline that showed him just enough skin to leave him imagining what it would feel like to pepper your collarbone with kisses. Your hair was set in a perfect style, your lips rouged, you looked effortlessly stylish. He swallowed, sliding his finger in between the collar of his shirt and neck in an attempt to loosen the starched material as he suddenly flushed very, very warm. He felt timid, awkward, and that in itself made him feel a strange juxtaposition of irritated and amused. Bucky Barnes didn’t get nervous around women, that was Steve’s speciality. But here he was, flapping over how best to ask you if you wanted to get a drink whilst that punk was laughing away with Agent Carter hanging off his every word.

No, this wouldn’t do.

With a small cough, Bucky cleared his throat and dropped his hand to the base of your back. “You want a drink, Doll Face?”

You smiled up at him, blinking and nodded. “Yeah, thanks Buck. A gin would be great.”

Bucky waved over the bartender, placed your orders and had just turned back to you when he spotted the woman who’d thrown him into this mess in the first place, Private Lorraine arriving with some other poor, unsuspecting soldier from the unit. Bucky didn’t know his name, not that he cared.

“Hey,” he nudged you and you turned to face him and he jerked his head, “guess this fake date worked.”

You followed his eye-line and visibly bristled a little bit before you shook your head and shrugged. “Poor bastard.”

“You really don’t like her, do you?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Just a hunch.” Bucky smirked, passing you your drink, before he gestured with his arm for you to follow the group who were now moving away from the bar to find a table. “After you, Darlin’.”

*****

You had to admit, you’d had your reservations but as it turned out, the night was pretty fun. Whilst you’d been hyper aware of Bucky besides you, you felt reasonably relaxed. His arm had dropped round your shoulder at one point, pulling you in for a friendly hug, the way he often did out in the field, and you’d simply enjoyed being as close to him as you were.

Because, fake or not, a chance to date Bucky Barnes didn’t come along that often.

It was a couple of hours later when you both found yourself at the table with Steve who made an excuse he needed the bathroom and left. Bucky snorted as Steve headed across the room and shook his head.

“Bathroom, he must think we’re stupid. He’s gone to find Peggy.”

“Aww, don’t. I think it’s cute.” You smiled, turning to look at Bucky. “Don’t you? I mean we’re fighting a war and in the middle of all this bloodshed and horror, he’s found someone who…” you trailed off as Bucky was watching you, a strange expression on his face. “Or not…am I talking nonsense?”

“No, it’s not that.” Bucky shook his head. “I just, guess I never thought about it that way. But you’re right. Suppose none of us know how long we have left, especially at the moment.”

He trailed off, his eyes scanning yours for something, but what you weren’t sure. You felt your cheeks warm and you glanced down at your hands, before you turned to watch the dancing going on around you. It was crazy when you stopped to contemplate that, in the midst of all the devastation and destruction, life was still going on. Bucky was right, your time could be up in a flash at any point.

“Well, seeing as you put it so eloquently,” you looked at Bucky, jerking your head to the dance floor. “Wanna show me how it’s done in Brooklyn?”

“Do you mind if we don’t?” Bucky shook his head and your heart sank. “I just…well, I…”

“No, you don’t need to explain.” You hastily back tracked. “I just thought it might keep up appearances, that’s all.”

There was an awkward silence, Bucky studying you for a moment with an expression you really couldn’t place and then, well, it all became too much.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” You made the same excuse Steve had given moments ago, and before Bucky could say anything, you rose from your seat and walked away, as dignified as you could, trying not to let the tears that were stinging your eyes fall down your face.

*****

Bucky watched you walk away from him, your movements graceful as you headed round the tables placed around the edge of the dance floor, taking care to avoid the groups of guests as you went. He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. This was a mess. It had started out as a bit of fun, you helping him out, because that's what you did, but he'd been a wreck all night. Frankly, being in such close proximity to you was making his head swim.

He'd wanted to dance with you, he'd really wanted to dance with you, but he didn’t trust himself because the truth was he liked you. A lot and he had done so for a while. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself to hold you on the dance floor without trying to kiss the life out of you. So he’d said no, and let you walk away, and the look of hurt on your face was now burnt into his mind. With an angry snort he stood up and stalked to the bar, signalling for another drink.

He stood there, nursing his glass for what felt like an age, seething at his own stupidity until a familiar voice cut through his murderous thoughts.

"Did HYDRA scramble your brain or something, Buck?"

"What?" Bucky's brow furrowed as he turned to look at Steve.

"You’re missing a girl's signals."

"Signals, what are you..."

"Y/N, you dolt." Steve rolled his eyes.

"What about her?"

"She likes you, has for ages."

"I don’t think so, Steve" Bucky snorted.

Steve sighed and leaned against the bar as Bucky necked his scotch. "So explain the look she had on her face as she stalked passed me before.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. "She wanted a dance, dames love dancing. I said no.”

“And why did you do that?”

Bucky took a deep breath and didn’t answer. But he knew Steve could see right through him, the punk always could.

“Buck, what exactly did you think I meant that night at the bar when we first came to England a couple of months back? About Peggy having a friend? I meant Y/N."

Bucky blinked, his mouth dropping open. "What?"

"She's sweet on you. Falsworth told me. I was trying to give you a hint."

Utter frustration lanced through Bucky's entire body and he shook his head. "How in the name of Hitler’s left ball was I supposed to understand that?"

"Well, I thought it was obvious."

"No, no it wasn't, Steve!" Bucky groaned, his eyes flicking around, trying to locate you in the crowd but he felt his heart sink as there was no sign. "Oh, I fucked up, big time."

"Suggest you go fix it then." Steve shrugged, his voice a little slow as he himself was busy looking at Peggy as she walked towards him, smiling. He stood up straight and clapped Bucky on the shoulder, before he walked off, leaving his sergeant alone.

Bucky anxiously continued to search the room with his eyes, and felt his heart jump as he saw a flash of colour the same as your dress, and your familiar profile as you walked onto the dance floor, your hand in Howard’s as the man smiled at you, pulling you into a hold.

Oh, fuck you, Stark!

Without wasting another second, Bucky necked his scotch and moved, striding around the dancehall towards you, not watching where he was going which was why he collided straight into Dum-Dum.

"Woah, Barnes, where's the fire?"

"On the dance floor, I hope.” Bucky sidestepped round the broad man quickly, his eyes entirely fixed on you as he weaved his way round the various couples all in the middle of a reasonable slow dance until he reached the pair of you.

He cleared his throat, gently tapping Howard on the shoulder as your eyes fixed onto his, surprise etched across your face.

“Mind if I cut in?”

xxxx

“Did it work?” Peggy asked Steve as the pair of them stood to the side of the hall. Steve glanced over the dancefloor, just as Howard stepped away from you, kissing your hand in an over-the-top gesture before he turned and walked away. Bucky approached you tentatively, and Steve saw you give the faintest of nods, before his friend took you in a close dancing hold.

Grinning, Steve turned back to Peggy, jerking his head to the floor. “See for yourself.”

As the pair of them watched you and Bucky for a second, Steve’s eyes then fell on Howard who had paused to talk to someone. Almost as if he could sense the Captain’s eyes on him, Stark glanced over, a smug grin crossed his face, and he gave Steve the thumbs up sign.

Steve smiled into his glass, the irony at the fact that Bucky had tried and failed many times to fix him up with gals in the past yet he’d managed to turn the tables in a single try, wasn’t wasted on the Captain.

xxxx

“Funny looking bathroom.” Bucky cleared his throat as he steered the pair of you round in a gentle dance.

“Oh, well I got waylaid a little.” You replied. “And seeing as we’re not actually dating, I didn’t think it was an issue.”

“It’s not, I just…” He was quick to reply as he drew in another deep breath before he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

 “What for?”

“Before, saying no the way I did. It was rude.”

You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you glanced up at him. “So, is that the only reason you’ve come to dance now? To apologise?”

“Yes, I mean, no.” Bucky stumbled over his words as he shook his head. “No, I wanted to dance. More specifically I wanted to dance with you.”

His admission settled like a bubbling brook in your belly. You wondered why, so you asked, "why?" 

Your mind began quickly doing the math, adding up the moments and signals between the two of you, wondering if what you dared to think was actually what he was thinking too. You were nervous but you remained close in your dance, your eyes flicking between his and his lips as he spoke, the words drowning in your ears, his voice sounding like your head was under water. 

“Because I like you, Doll Face.”

Then, you felt it, your body leaning in just a smidge as you tilted your head upward as his moved just a pinch to look down at you. Your lips brushed his and the electricity took off as he pulled you in for a deeper, slightly less modest kiss, the hand that had been curled around your waist moved upwards at the same time his other released yours from his hold, and calloused palms and fingers cupped your jaw and cheeks. Despite the roughness of his skin, his warm hands felt soft against your face like the finest silk whilst his tongue dipped into your mouth, kissing you in a way that your Pappy certainly wouldn’t approve of.

But you approved, boy did you approve.

The sounds of the big band drowned out the mewl that bubbled from your delicate throat to those around you, but not to Bucky. He heard the elicit sound clear as day, and that was enough. He wanted to get you alone, away from prying eyes.

He pulled back, casting a quick glance around before he looked down at you, "let's get out of here."

It was a suggestion as much as an instruction, and he waited as you blinked, before you gave the slightest nod and he took your hand, turned, and led you from the dancefloor.

****

How the pair of you made it back to your quarters, you had no idea, but here you were, stumbling into the small room, heated kisses being shared as Bucky kicked the door shut, his lips still fiercely on yours. Your fingers were now deftly undoing the buttons of his jacket before you pulled it open with a flourish, shoving it down over his shoulders and arms as Bucky was quickly pulling off his tie and opening the collar of his shirt. Before long, that was also discarded somewhere on the floor and your hands slid up his strong biceps, down his chest, tracing the taught muscle before your fingers hooked into the front of his uniform pants and you turned your attention to his belt, breaking the kiss a little so you could look down.

“Eager, Doll?” Bucky mumbled as his nose nudged at your chin, pushing your head up. His lips trailed across your jaw line, and then down your neck and you tipped your head back, your eyes fluttered shut at the feel of his lips on your skin, relishing the feel of his soft mouth and the delectable gentle scratching of his five-o-clock shadow.

His hands slowly slid up your sides, before they moved round the back, his lips pressing to yours as you felt his fingers gently guiding the zip of your dress down. Once it was undone, you stepped back and allowed it to fall into a pool at your feet. Bucky glanced down and groaned as his blue eyes scanned the stockings, garter belt, lace panties and matching bra.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His lips crashed back to yours as he backed you towards the cot at the side of the room.  As the back of your knees hit the metal side of the frame, he gently lowered you down, positioning himself over you, caging you with his arms and his legs as his mouth continued trailing soft kisses down your neck and her jawline.

You were powerless to stop the soft noises of pleasure you were making, try as you might, conscious of the fact the walls in the Quarter-Hall were thin, something you cursed on a daily basis as you could hear the squeak of the cot which belonged to the neighbour to your right as she turned over at night. Luckily for you, your springs were untested so to speak, therefore didn’t make a sound, unlike you at that moment in time.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Bucky suddenly stopped, his mouth hovering by your ear and you stilled, tilting your head to look at him. “I mean, this…well, it aint proper really, but…”

“Since when did you give a damned about being proper with a Dame?” You teased, fingers wrapping in the chain of his dog-tags, but there wasn’t a shred of humour in Bucky’s tone or on his face when he answered.

“When that dame was you.”

You blinked, and looked at his face, finding nothing there but a genuine softness and you were overcome with the emotions and sensations you were feeling and you yanked on the chain in your hands, pulling his head back down as you crashed your lips back to his.

“Yes, yes I do. I want this Bucky, I want it so much.” You mumbled against his mouth and he gave a groan, before he stood up, quickly, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out the small condom packet, one you recognised as the standard issued to all soldiers to avoid them catching anything when they were putting it about during furlough, so to speak, and he sat back down on the edge of the bed, bending down to unlace his boots.

Bucky was mentally cursing the damned things as he felt you stir behind him, the hard mattress of your bed dipping slightly, and he stilled as he felt your fingers gently brushing over the back of his shoulders. Your touch was feather light as your hands gently felt across his broad back and he gave a sigh, tipping his head back slightly to catch your lips in a deep kiss.

“Doll, if you want me to do anything to you tonight, I gotta get these boots off.”

“So take ‘em off.”

“Stop distractin’ me then.” His accent dripped from his tongue as he chuckled, and your lips curled into a smile against his.

“You saying you can’t handle a job with a little distraction?” You gave a tut, but pulled away a little to allow him to finally get the damned things off. “And Steve says you’re our best marksman.”

“Well, what does that Punk know?” Bucky tossed the boots to the floor with a thud, before he quickly raised his hips enough to allow him to slide off his pants. Then, in a flash he turned, pinning you back to the cot, smirking at the giggle that burst from your mouth. His hands trailed down your body, flicking open the clips on your garter straps without so much as a fumble, before the reached up and snapped the hooks at the front of your bra.

He took a moment to appreciate you, the soft, supple lines of your breasts a complete contrast to your toned shoulders and taught stomach, both the result of an extensive training regime.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He leaned over, kissing you softly, his lips tracing a track down your sternum before he softly took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue gently teasing, eyes flicking to your face to watch your reaction. 

You groaned at the sensation, rolling your head back on the pillow, hips bucking upwards as you let yourself go, barely daring to believe that his was happening, but just as you were questioning if you were in some elaborate dream, a low moan from above you caused your fluttering eyelids to jerk wide open. You could feel him hard, pushing against you and your hands moved round to his back.  You dragged your fingers up his spine, as his hand moved down, sliding into the waistband of your panties making your gasp as his fingers slipped into your folds. As he teased you, your hips began to move in time with his motions, groans falling from your lips as the heat began to build in between your legs, deep in your belly.

“Good?” Bucky’s voice was a rasp, and it was all you could do to do whimper softly, your head falling back further as your mouth dropped open, your entire body shuddering as the pleasure lanced through you. You reached down, grabbing his wrist and his eyes moved to yours, waiting.

“Want you.” You whispered softly. Almost as if he’d been waiting for that final bit of permission, Bucky’s fingers hooked into the top of your panties, gently sliding them down your legs, gathering your stockings as he went, a movement he had clearly perfected through goodness knows however many other clandestine liaisons. Discarding them to the floor, he wriggled his way out of his own underwear before he sat back on his heels and you moved, grabbing the packet he’d placed on the small bedside unit before.

Bucky groaned softly as your hands gently wrapped around his cock, sliding the condom down. It really shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was but he was almost ready to blow before he’d even started. Once it was on, he crawled back over you, his thighs gently parting yours a little further and with a steady, slow motion he slid into you, the sensation caused both of you to groan, your head falling back against the pillows as Bucky stretched you, his girth and length filling you completely.

"Fuuucckkk.” Bucky breathed out as your tight heat gripped him, his word little more than a whisper. He moved his hands to snake his fingers through yours, gently pinning your hands by the side of your head as he began to move his hips. He went slowly at first, picking up the speed slightly as you keened underneath him, his dog tags sliding in the valley between your breasts, the metal cold against your heated skin.

Your hips bumped together with every thrust he made and, with each rock into you, he was rubbing against that soft spot deep inside you. Your soft cries stuck in your throat, your senses completely overwhelmed as the fire in your body was raging white hot.

“James,” you whispered his name, and Bucky let out a low groan, his fingers tightened around yours as he gave a particularly deep thrust, making you purr in delight. He raised his head to capture your lips, plunging his tongue into your mouth before he released your hands, his own cupping your face as he continued to move.

In that moment, you could have been anywhere. In a hotel, surrounded by the finest silk sheets that money could buy or on some far away beach in the corner of the world, but instead you were led on a hard mattress in a military base, knowing full well you were in for some serious reprimand if you were caught, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the man who was currently undoing you piece by piece as the two of you were tangled in your own private dance.

The more Bucky gave, the more you wanted, and as he hiked your leg up round his waist, his fingers curling round the back of your knee you choked out another pant of his name, “James,” as you felt yourself nearing that point where you’d drop over that oh-so-steep cliff edge. The tips of your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, causing him to groan loudly, his head tipping backwards.

“You feel so good.” His voice was nothing but a whine, and at his praise you gave another low, sultry gasp, your breath now coming in ragged gasps. “God, Y/N,” he moaned loudly as you titled your hips, pushing back up against him, his head dropping slightly. “You close?” he gasped and you nodded softly, your lips falling open and once again he kissed you, hard, his movements speeding up ever so slightly.

“Don’t stop.” You begged, shaking your head as you grasped at his back, “please, so good.”

Bucky felt you shudder underneath him and a few thrusts later your back arched and a soft cry escaped your mouth as your eyes fluttered shut and your head tilted back, mouth open in a now silent scream. He could feel you tightening, pulsing around him as you came and that was it, enough to tip him straight over the edge behind you, the surge and ecstasy of his relief causing his whole body to stiffen as his hips faltered. A groan burst from his mouth as he gave a few final, sloppy thrusts before he collapsed forward, his head burrowing into your neck.

You both lay still for a moment, before Bucky regained enough composure to prop himself up, placing a soft kiss to your lips and as he pulled away slightly, he found you looking up at him, lips swollen from his kisses, heavy lidded eyes blinking slowly in your sated state, and he smiled at the fact you wore that just fucked look so damned well.

“You okay?” He asked softly and you nodded, a smile playing on your lips before you kissed him again.

“More than okay.” You grinned, your nails gently scratching at the nape of his neck. “You got moves, Sergeant.”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he kissed you again, his lips hovering over yours. “Well you weren’t so bad yourself, Agent.”

*****

 “Nice of you to show up.” Colonel Phillips looked at you as you walked into the briefing room. “Late night, was it?”

“Sorry, Sir. I didn’t get much sleep.” You mumbled, avoiding Bucky’s eyes as he looked down at the table, a grin on his face.

“Huh, I could have sworn I saw you leaving the dance early.” Dum-Dum quipped and you shot him a glare as you took up a seat next to Peggy who licked her lips, fighting a smirk.

“Whatever, I’m not interested.” Phillips sniffed before he tossed a file down on the table in front of Steve who reached over to take it. “We have word that HYDRA are intending to move Arnim Zola.”

“Do we know where to?” Steve asked, looking at the file before he glanced up and Peggy shook her head.

“No, this is hot off the press so to speak. Stark’s team intercepted their encrypted broadcast. All we know is that they’re nervous about moving, and that the route has been carefully planned to avoid any long, open distances.”

“They’re going through the Alps.” Phillips moved to a map at the side of the room. “Trying to maintain a cover so to speak. Our surveillance team still has Zola at his current location, but that could change at any time. Captain, I need you to co-ordinate and mount an operation to intercept that train and apprehend him.”

“If you know where he is why can’t we just bust in and get him now?” Bucky asked.

“Because you’ll never get there in time.” Phillips replied. “As we understand he’ll be moving out in a couple of hours. So we’re up against it. The window of opportunity lies about six hours into his trip where there’s a slight break in the mountain cover.”

“How do we know this is kosher?” Falsworth took the file from Steve. “They could be leaving a false trail.”

“We hacked a number of broadcasts, each saying a different thing.” Peggy answered. “But this one held the code words we know HYDRA are using today.”

“And our codebreakers have never let us down before, so I’m willing to take a punt.” Phillips nodded. “Get to it, we don’t have much time.”

There was a flurry of movement around the table as you all stood up, Steve barking instructions at you all to collect what you needed and head to the transportation hub immediately as Dum-Dum mentioned something about zip wires and ambushing the train from above. As you all sidled out of the room, a hand gently closed over your arm and you turned to see Bucky as he fell into step besides you.

“Just so you know, I don’t normally make habit of splitting before breakfast.”

“Oh, you normally eat first?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He smirked and you gave a chuckle. “I just didn’t want you thinking-“

“It’s okay, I get it.” You assured him, and you did. He’d left in a flurry that morning before he could get caught sneaking out of the small room you had in the female quarters and you didn’t hold it against him at all. 

“But, I’d really like to take you out, properly, I mean. When we get chance.”

“You asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah.” Bucky stopped, turning to face you. “A real one this time.”

You smiled and nodded. “I’d like that. Oh, but just so you know, I don’t put out on a first date.”

“No? Then what was last night?”

You hesitated, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. In all honesty, you had no idea what had come over you last night. You’d never behaved in a reckless manner with a man like that before and taken him home so easily, for fear of getting yourself a bad reputation. That said, you didn’t really care either. You were in the middle of a war, running dangerous missions, any of which could be your last. Life was for living, and as long as you were breathing, you intended on making the most of it.

You opened your mouth to explain this to Bucky, but you stopped yourself and instead you simply smiled at him, your eyes looking straight into those steel-blues which were sparkling with mischief.

“Doesn’t count, it wasn’t a real date.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Bucky arched an eyebrow and you nodded.

“Yup, that’s how it is.”

“Well,” He took a deep breath as the pair of you continued walking, “guess I’ll just have to show you a real good time when I get the chance.”

You snorted and shook your head. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“It’s been said.” He grinned as you reached the end of the corridor. “But, first we’ve got a German scientist to catch. Think you can contain yourself around me long enough to run a mission?”

“Okay, first off he’s Swiss.”

“What?”

“Zola, he’s Swiss. I don’t know why you all think differently, it’s in all the briefings and his file-“

“Yeah, I don’t read those.”

“Well you should, you might learn something. And second -“ you held your hand up, finger extended, instructing him to keep whatever wise crack he was about to make to himself, “-you’re not that irresistible.”

Bucky blinked before he gave a laugh and shook his head. “You know, I actually learned a fair bit last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I learned that you cut a mean rug, Doll-Face.” He glanced around, before he leaned closer, his breath hot on your neck as he whispered into your ear. “And that you look even better with your clothes off.”

With that he turned and headed off towards the equipment store, leaving you staring after him, blinking with shock, but feeling an overwhelming sense of smugness that, even in the middle of all this bloodshed and fighting, you had something to look forward to when you got back.

[five-rivers]

Green Sky Highway

Phic Phight Phic for @deuynndoodles

.

The Fenton Ecto Cell Bettery (aka the Better Battery) was designed to draw power from not only an internal, pre-charged store of ectoplasm, but also from ambient, atmospheric ectoplasm.  This meant that it would never run out of juice so long as it was in the Ghost Zone.  The Specter Speeder was designed to travel in the Ghost Zone.  Thus, the Betteries were the perfect power source for it.  In theory.  

In practice… Well, that just wasn’t working out, and Maddie didn’t know why.  She gripped the underside of the dash and tried to push herself deeper beneath it to get a better view of the machinery.  

“Maddie?  You see anything?” asked Jack, who couldn’t fit under the dash.  He’d been inspecting as much of the engine as he could from the inside, which wasn’t much.  The Speeder wasn’t designed to be serviced while free-floating in the Ghost Zone.  

Which, now that she thought of it, was a serious oversight.  

“Everything looks fine,” said Maddie.  “Except that it doesn’t have any power.  Nothing’s lighting up, but all the connections look good. You?”

“I can’t get anything to work.  Anything.  It’s like… we’re in some kind of technological dead zone.  But that doesn’t make sense.”

Maddie pulled herself out to see Jack vigorously scratching his head and shedding dandruff everywhere.  “Ghosts do tend to disrupt technology.”

“But we fixed that.  We designed all our weapons to work with that.”

“We know there are things we don’t know,” said Maddie, “and it’s always good to find new things!  Though not pleasant to find them out like this…”  They should really test their inventions more, honestly.  

But it had been over a year of testing since they opened the portal.  They had to jump in at some point, didn’t they?  That was the whole point of the portal.  

She sighed.  “Well, we didn’t have a lot of forward momentum when the portal cut out.”  She looked out the window.  “We could see if we can get out and engage our jetpacks.”

“Uh, about that,” said Jack.  He swung open the door to the jetpack cabinet.  The empty jetpack cabinet.  “I may have forgotten to put them back after refueling them.”

“Jack…”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Maddie massaged the bridge of her nose with her mostly-clean knuckles.  This was a repeat of the handle inside the weapons vault.  At least he wasn’t pushing the blame for it back onto Danny or Jazz.  That would definitely have started a fight.  

On the other hand, there really wasn’t any guarantee the jetpacks would even still be functional, so maybe it was for the best. For certain values of best.  

She groaned.  

There was a knocking sound.  “Is that coming from the engine?” Maddie asked.  

“No…” said Jack, slowly.  “I think it came from the door…”

They both turned to stare.  Something moved outside it.  They shifted to get a better view out the window.  

Phantom was out there, tapping on the door with a ten-foot pole.  

“That little unnatural abomination,” cursed Jack under his breath.  “He’s going to scratch the paint!”

Phantom apparently saw them and waved.  “Hey!” he shouted, just loud enough to be heard through the walls of the Speeder.  “Do you guys need a lift?”

Jack and Maddie turned to each other.  

“How did he know we were here?”

“I don’t know,” said Jack.  “Do you think he followed us?”

“It wouldn’t be difficult, but I’m surprised he didn’t show up on our detectors.”

“He does seem to have the ability to drop off of them.”

“True,” said Maddie.  “So, how do we handle this?  Fenton bat?”

“I don’t know, Mads.  He might be, uh, sincere?  That time with the ectofiltrator he did help me.”

“That’s one, single, datapoint.  He’s a been a menace every other time we’ve encountered him.”

“I don’t know that we have much other choice,” said Jack, nodding towards the dead engines and the empty jetpack cabinet.

Maddie huffed out a sigh, then looked back at Phantom, who waved again.  

“Fine.  We still have to decide how to deal with him while we’re cooperating with him.  Or if he decides to show his true colors.”

“Good idea.”

.

Danny knew this had been a terrible, terrible idea the moment his parents opened the door to the Speeder armed to the teeth.  Why did they always feel the need to do that? None of the weapons, with the possible exceptions of the Fenton Bat and the Fenton Crowbar could even work here.

How his parents had, on their first jaunt into the Ghost Zone, managed to run smack into the Time Locked Lands was beyond him. They had to go to the one place in the Ghost Zone that the Speeder wouldn’t work and after coating the Speeder with some kind of anti-ghost spray that Danny absolutely refused to touch again.  Ever. Especially in ghost form.  Except with a ten-foot pole.

(If they’d left the spray off, he could have just pushed the Speeder back out of the Time Locked Lands.  But, no, they had to make everything as difficult and painful as possible.)

“I am not carrying all that,” said Danny, flatly.

(Especially because it would all turn back on once they left the Time Lost Lands, and if there wasn’t a Specter Deflector under all that, he’d eat his own belt.)

“Then we aren’t going anywhere with you!” proclaimed Maddie.  

“You’re stranded in the middle of the Ghost Zone. I don’t think you have a choice.”

“We do!”

“I could literally just fly over there and snatch you right now.  Plus, again, stranded.  Do you even have any food in there?”

“Of course we do!” said Maddie.  “We aren’t incompetent.”

Jack looked guilty.  Danny decided not to bring it up.

“Okay, but still, you’re going to run out eventually, and then you’ll still be floating in the Ghost Zone with no way to get out.  You aren’t going to get another friendly ghost coming by.”

“I’ve never seen a friendly ghost to begin with!”

“Maddie…”

“I can just leave, you know,” said Danny, planting his hands on his hips and bluffing for all he was worth.  He was not leaving his parents here to be used as hostages or who knew what else.  

Hopefully, they wouldn’t call the bluff.  They shouldn’t.  No sane, reasonable person would.  He was their only way out of this mess.  On the other hand, his parents had never been completely sane, reasonable people.  

Danny thought his odds were about fifty-fifty.  Which meant he could hope.  

Jack and Maddie had an intense, whispered conversation. This, thankfully, lead to them divesting themselves of most of their visible weaponry.  Which meant that they still had more guns on them than most professional soldiers during a firefight.  

Well, it was better than he’d expected.  But it was still too many.  

“Take the Specter Deflectors off,” he said.  “What do you think will happen if I try to carry you and you have those on.”

There was muttering.  

“Come on, come on,” said Danny, snapping his fingers. Which really shouldn’t work through his gloves but did anyway.  

Sometimes ghost nonsense was good for making lasers fly from your hands, and sometimes it was good for tiny aesthetic breaks in physics. It was a grab bag, really.  

“Alright,” said Danny.  “I’m going to fly over and pick you up.  Don’t hit me.”

Oh, jeez, he was not looking forward to carrying them all the way over to the portal.  Sure, he could bench press a school bus, but there was a difference between holding up a school bus for a minute and carrying two people who hated his guts a mile through enemy territory while flying slowly enough not to give them windburn.  

Sure, it’d probably only take a few minutes, even then, but those would be the longest few minutes in his entire life.  Not counting his actual death.  

.

Being carried by Phantom had to be the single worst experience in Jack’s entire life.  

It wasn’t the speed or the lack of control – he loved carnival rides – or the height – Jack couldn’t tell you how many buildings he’d jumped off in pursuit of ghosts – or even the fact that Phantom was a sinister specter, and ectoplasmic emanation, a putrid piece of protoplasm – he’d been carried by ghosts before, usually ones who were a lot more upfront about wanting to kill him.  

Actually, Jack didn’t know why he didn’t like it. He just didn’t.  

Maybe it was just how uncomfortable it was?  But Jack did way more uncomfortable things. Like interacting with his sister-in-law. Brr.  

Maybe it was the lurking feeling behind every interaction he ever had with Phantom that there was something he just wasn’t seeing, some hidden truth that would make everything about Phantom, every contradiction, every confusion, make sense.

Nah, that couldn’t be it.  Maddie would have figured it out by now.  That’s why they made such a great team.  He noticed the things she didn’t, and she noticed the things he didn’t.  

“You’re going the wrong way,” snapped Maddie.  

Just like that!

Wait.  That was a really bad thing.

“I’m not going the wrong way,” snapped Phantom.  “I’m avoiding Walker’s prison.  I don’t know how he didn’t catch you on your way out, but I’m not eager to be thrown in jail for a thousand years.”

“Ghosts have jail?” asked Jack surprised.  

“Depends where you are,” said Phantom.  “Walker isn’t really a sheriff, though.  There’s no government behind him and he just makes up rules randomly so he can lock up anybody he doesn’t like.”

“Like you,” observed Jack.  

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re even wanted by whatever passes for the law here?”

“First, rude.  Secondly, there are realms in here that are just as organized and civilized as any country on Earth.  Just because you opened your portal into the equivalent of post-apocalyptic Detroit doesn’t mean it’s all like this.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” said Maddie.  

“I could arrange that, you know,” said Phantom, stilling.

Jack laughed nervously.  “Maybe another time?”  The ghost would do what it would do, but they didn’t need to encourage him to bring them even deeper into the Ghost Zone.  They were currently banking on Phantom’s obsession with heroics to get them home, but if they changed the equation…  Yeah, Jack didn’t want to deal with the consequences of that.  

Ghosts were like computers that ran only one program. One homicidal, destructive program.

It was like that thought experiment about an AI whose job was to maximize the number of paperclips.  It’d just keep on making more and more paperclips until nothing was left.  Which was why they had to be stopped.  

Easier said than done, as Jack and Maddie had learned.

“You don’t have to be so freaked out,” muttered Phantom. “It isn’t like I’m going to kidnap you or anything.”  He pretended to sigh.  

What was the point of that?  He had to know that Jack and Maddie wouldn’t fall for his tricks. Actually, come to think of it, he was miming breathing, too, and had been the whole time.  

Maybe that’s why Jack was so uncomfortable.  The constant undercurrent of deception.  

Hmmm… something to think on.  

“What’s that?” asked Maddie, pointing.  

“Uh,” said Phantom, who did a double take.  

Ooh, that wasn’t reassuring.  

.

Danny clenched his teeth, his parents’ reactions to him weren’t reassuring, and even less reassuring was the way Pariah’s Keep had moved from its usual creepy location and to this new creepy location. Not that there were any non-creepy locations in the Ghost Zone.  It was part of the place’s charm.  

No, really.  Some part of Danny craved the creepiness.  He was half-ghost, after all.  

(Even if his idea of creepiness was, according to his friends, sort of lame.)

But back to the main point.  The keep really, really shouldn’t be here.  And it was creeping him out.  

It should be okay to just… fly past it, though, right? Just being in its airspace in the past hadn’t done anything bad.  So, flying by with his parents in tow shouldn’t do anything either.  Right?

Danny put on more speed, just in case.  This coincided with a bunch of large ghost ravens (or were they crows?) dive bombing them and forcing him to land to defend himself and parents.  The only land around being the rim of the island that supported the keep.

He knew something like this would happen. Maybe not exactly this, but he just knew he’d be attacked and everything would devolve into nonsense, and—

Huh.  The birds weren’t attacking him, just his parents.  Oh, these were racist (mortalist?) birds.  Gross.  Trust Pariah Dark to have bigoted birds.  He called up a shield to protect his parents.  Whereupon they shot him in the back, shouting about how he betrayed them to the birds, because why not?  

Why was his life like this?

He pushed himself up off the ground.  Starbursts twinkled behind his eyes.  Neither his parents nor the crows were in sight.  The crows could have gone anywhere.  His parents on the other hand…

There was only one place they could have gone.  

Well.  At least none of the nonsentient traps would work on them, seeing as they were humans. What were the odds that they’d run into one of the sentient defenders?

Well… considering the ravens?

Yeah.  That’d be about one hundred percent.

.

“Maddie, I don’t know about this…” said Jack, examining the tall, vaulted ceiling.  

“We had to get away from Phantom.  This was the only way to go.”

“But he came here for a reason, Mads,” whispered Jack, tip-toing.

“Yeah, this is definitely a trap.  But what can we do?”

“Jack?  Maddie? This is not a place you want to wander around in! Oh, holy—” There was a loud thump.  

Maddie grabbed Jack’s hand and pulled him forward. “We have to get away from him.”

“Come on!  This is a floating island!  I’m your only way off!  Why are you like this?”

“He has a point,” said Jack.  

Maddie stopped.  “I guess he does.”

“This is literally the worst place you could have picked to run away!”  A sound like a very large door opening and closing reached their ears.  “This is Pariah Dark’s place!  Where did you even go?”

“Mads?”

“Yeah?”

“Who’s Pariah Dark?”

“I think that was the name of the ghost that sucked the town into the Ghost Zone a few months ago.”

“Please, guys!  I’m trying to help you here!  This place is ultra-dangerous!  You could accidentally – yikes! – wake up Pariah Dark.”  

“Maybe we should…”

“Yeah,” said Maddie, “maybe we should.”

“Phantom!” called Jack.  “Phantom!  We’re over—” The floor opened up underneath them and they fell into the dark.  

.

Maddie woke to a dark room, tied to a chair.  She noticed the faintly glowing ghost in front of her and jolted backwards.

The ghost wore a set of painted and engraved plate armor, a pair of lavender-white eyes glowing from behind the slats of its visor.  A knight, of sorts, Maddie supposed.  

“You…” droned the ghost in a painfully stereotypical ghostly moan.  “Enemies of the king… why have you come here?”

“Huh?”

That was Jack’s voice.  He was tied behind her, apparently.  

“We don’t have anything to say to you,” snapped Maddie.

“Uh,” said Jack.  Something twisted behind Maddie.  “Are you a friend of Phantom?”

“A friend?  A friend?”

“I’m going to take that as a no,” muttered Maddie.  

The door of the room flew off its hinges.  “Fright Knight!” shouted Phantom, pointing a glowing finger.  “Wait, you aren’t Fright Knight.  Who are you, and what do you want with my- With, uh, the Fenton ghost hunters?  Who I don’t know very well at all. Promise.”

“What,” said the ghost.  

“What,” said Maddie.  

“What,” said Jack.  

“Okay, forget everything I just said.”  He gestured at the ghost.  “Who are you?”

“My name is Paladin, my liege.”

“Okay, okay, cool, cool.  I- Wait, what?  What did you call me?”

“My liege?”

Phantom looked like he was having an existential crisis.  

“Maddie was right!” exclaimed Jack, who couldn’t see Phantom’s face.  “You did lead us into a trap!”

“What?  No?  I’ve never even met this guy before!  You are a guy, right?”

“Yes, my liege.”

“Right.  I’m going to put that on the backburner and freak out about it later.  How are you- Why are you—” Phantom shook his head.  “Why are you here in Pariah’s Keep?”

“It’s your keep.”

“Since when?”

“Say what now?” asked Jack and Maddie at once.  

“Look, this is news to me, too.  But, back to the question.  You.  The keep. Why?  I mean, you weren’t here before.”

“That is because Pariah sealed me, my liege.  When you defeated him, I was released and immediately swore fealty to the true king.  You.”

“I am so freaking out right now, but we’ll revisit that. Later.  Right now, I have to get these guys home.”

“But they have hostile intentions towards your person, my liege!”

“Everyone has hostile intentions towards me.  I’m honestly surprised you haven’t attacked me yet.”

“Ah.  My liege, perhaps you should seek the services of a priest, if all your experiences with new people are such.”

“Is that the medieval equivalent of a therapist?”

“I fear I do not know what that is.  Why do you ask?”

“Because the last time I talked to one of those, they purposefully picked at every one of my insecurities and then tried to murder my, uh.  Someone close to me.”

“An evil counselor, then,” said the knight, gravely.

“I want to agree with you, but somehow I feel like you’re talking about something completely different than the image in my head.”

“That may be true, my liege.  Doubtless, you are very wise.”

Maddie was… lost.  

Very lost.  

Even so, her prerogative was escaping.  She started twisting, trying to get to the knots around her wrists.  

“Did you, uh, pilot the castle out here?”

“Yes.  I sensed that mortal enemies of the king, that’s you—”

“I will debate that as soon as my brain stops screaming at me.”

“—had entered the Realm.”

“Right.  Yeah. Thank you.  But I can handle these guys.  And I need to get them home.  Please. I made a deal with them.”

“With these?”

“Hey!” said Jack, offended.  

“I mean, I use the term deal pretty loosely.”

“Hey!”

“But yes.  Please.  Just.  Dang.  How did you tie them up that quickly?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“Do you mind if I take the chairs?”

“They are your chairs, my liege.”

“I’m still not used to that.”

“Are you quite certain you want to take them?  And just… Let them loose?  The dungeon here is very functional.  We even have an oubliette.”

“Raincheck.  But thank you.  Really, I mean it.”  Phantom flew behind Maddie, and she protested as the chair she was in was yanked upward. “Uh… I might have gotten turned around a time or two, so if you could…”

“Of course!  The keep does seem to have sustained some damage, so we will have to take some detours.”

“Phantom!  Phantom! Put us down and untie us.”

“Nah, I think I like this better.  Your kids can untie you once I bring you back!”

“You’re going to drag us all the way through the Ghost Zone?”

“That’s the plan.”

.

The rest of the flight was surprisingly pleasant. No one attacked, and his parents were much easier to carry in the chairs.  Sure, they struggled, but the struggling was much more manageable than the wriggling from before.  

They were mad at him.  But they were always mad at him.  So.  

No loss, really.

With the utmost carefulness, Danny set them down in the middle of the lab, still tied up, and then began zapping then tossing their most troublesome inventions into the gaping maw of the portal while they screamed at him.  

Normally, he wouldn’t do this, especially after successfully rescuing his parents and hopefully raising their opinion of him, but some of those inventions were painful.  Like.  A lot painful.  And dangerous.  Also, he was doing his level best to avoid thinking about the whole ‘king’ thing.  

Which he couldn’t do forever.  

Especially since Jazz walked down the stairs, probably drawn by the screaming, to see Danny shoving half of the Ghost Catcher through the portal sans-strings.  

“Uh,” said Danny.  

“Get that ghost, Jazzy-pants!”

Danny vanished and fled upstairs.  

.

Jazz had seen many strange things in her life, but that scene was one of the weirder ones.  

It took some time to untie her parents, longer to extract herself from the ensuing rant and their attempt to salvage their equipment from Danny’s all-too-explicable rampage.  Honestly, she was surprised Danny hadn’t snapped earlier.  

She opened the door to his room.  It was empty.  She squinted. He was not just leaving her hanging like that, with no context to what happened other than their parents’ ranting.  She opened her door.  

Danny was lying on his side on the middle of her rag rug, hugging Bearbert Einstein.  

“A ghost told me I was king and that I needed a priest.”

Oh boy.