#daniel lives au

[prosperdemeter2]

Fuck it Friday- glass

Coming... tomorrow 😉 @mattsire @wildlife4life

“How are you feeling now? Did you tell your doctor yet?”  Eddie had made him breakfast, frozen waffles but he had made homemade whipped cream and cut up strawberries and Evan, personally, could make better pastries but they had still tasted like the best damn waffles he had ever had in his life. He had smiled at him, kissed him over the table, and only dropped him back off at his apartment at a promise to take it easy for the day, maybe work on some school stuff, catch up on a television show, try a new recipe that he had been meaning to try for weeks and hadn’t made the time to do. He hadn’t told him to call his doctor, hadn’t told him to tell anyone, had only asked for a few updates throughout the day to check in, but Evan was going to do it regardless. He trusted Evan, in a way that was disconcerting but so addicting, to take care of himself in the wake of something that he had suffered with the majority of his life. “No,” Evan said on a grumble, although he still didn’t move from his safety net of his own arms. If Daniel couldn’t see him, he couldn’t use his gruff doctor voice to tell him to go lay down while he handled things like calling his doctor and telling their parents and making him the worst cup of green tea Evan had ever consumed.  “You should.” Maddie’s nurse voice was certainly gentler than Daniel’s doctor one, but they had the same tilt to them.  “It wasn’t extreme,” Evan spoke into the table. “And it wasn’t longer than three minutes.”  “How do you know?” Daniel asked bitingly. “Evan, you were out.”  “Eddie timed it.” Wrong thing to say.  “Eddie timed it.” Daniel mocked. “Eddie’s not a doctor.”  “He’s a paramedic.”  “And he’s a great guy but he’s not exactly a medical professional.”  “He’s not a dumbass either.” Evan sharply pulled himself back to glare at his brother. “Hen wouldn’t have let me go home with him if she thought anything was going on.”  “Hen’s not a doctor either.”  “She passed the same exams you did,” Evan reminded him coldly. “You’re not exactly a neurologist either.”  “That’s why I’m telling you to go to your neurologist. I’m not standing here telling you to trust my word when my word isn't sound medical advice.”  Evan ground his jaw, “Paramedics are meant to assess and determine if further medical care is needed -.”  “They’re meant to stabilize you until you get to a medical professional.” Daniel argued, waving his hand in the air.  Evan threw his own up at his shoulders. “I’m stable! If I went to a doctor every single time I had a minor seizure when I have a seizure disorder, I’d hit my deductible by the end of January.” Maddie snorted, “You don’t have that many seizures.”  He didn’t, but he could and a minor seizure was like making a cake - easy and predictable and so long as it stayed within parameters Evan’s doctor didn’t need to know about it immediately. “I’ll call your doctor myself.” Daniel pointed his finger at him as he said it.  Maddie rolled her eyes, “Daniel -.”  “They won’t listen to you.” Evan said with his chin in the air.  “If I call them and find out that you’ve had more than just this one in a short amount of time -.”  “They’re not going to tell you anything.”  “They will tell me.”  “They won’t.” Maddie cut in sternly. “Daniel, listen, okay,” she smoothed her hand over Evan’s forearm and onto his clenched tight fist, and reached her other across the kitchen island to place on Daniel’s tense wrist. “Evan will tell his doctor. He’s not ten and he’s not irresponsible.”  “Forgive me, Maddie, but you haven’t exactly had to outstubborn our baby brother since he was ten.” Daniel said sharply. At his side, Maddie flinched, her hands leaving theirs and folding in her lap. 

[bonkalore]

Just some interaction bit I had finally with more between Jayce and Cyprus. This is later on in the story when some stuff came up with Lucy and them both trying to be there for her and why Cyprus was visiting in support. Both of them are wearing glamours (Cyprus the necklace and Jayce his wrist watch band), and Jayce at this point in the story is all fucked up from his Dread condition that's gotten worse and his real form is actually huge and wearing glamours is like wearing spandex that you're having to hold it all in with. He has to also use size spells to try and negate it, but it's hard to manage and keep track of it all.

He's definitely not comfortable most of the time...

[pedrospookie]

Hi pookie 🎀

I always think about what Jack Daniels would be like on a first date with reader after his wife’s death, maybe years have passed and he’s ready to start dating again. I could just imagine how sweet he would be when he flirts with you, trying his best to get you to like him 😭 fluffy fluff please 🩷

Hi friend!

Thank you so much for your patience while I wrote this fic— life got the best of me going into the holidays and I had some unexpected international travel on top of it all. I was determined like hell to get this finished for you today. I hope you like it!

Your Song

Jack Daniels x f!reader

a/n: not canon, jack will never be dead in my world, sorry not sorry! it’s also severely unbeta’d and completed while maxed out on mucinex so please forgive me for any plot holes or spelling mistakes. I also fear I went a lil rogue and made it a lil more sexy than sweet (I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry pls don’t hate me)

tw: mentions Jack’s dead wife & child, otherwise it’s just fluff!

As far as first dates go, this one was special. This was the first date Jack had been on since the passing of his wife and unborn son.

Sure, in his time as a Statesman he spent the night in the company of lovely women, wining and dining, gaining intel, passing the time. But Jack was a lover at heart. Beneath this rugged, suave, confident cowboy exterior was a soft, sensitive man who missed coming home to his wife at the end of a long day. His career exhausted him over time, proving to him that he could no longer run from this empty hole growing inside his chest. What was the point in fighting and risking his life if there was no one worth fighting for anymore?

After many years of service and one faked death later, Agent Whiskey hung up his hat and retired from the service. He was ready to start his life over.

And today was one of the many new firsts in this new chapter of his life. Today he was getting back on the horse and going on a date. You had caught his eye awhile back, both reaching for the last heirloom tomato at the farmer’s market. Through a small, yet friendly exchange, in which Jack let you have the last tomato, you realized that there was something there. The twinkle in his chocolate coloured eyes lit a flame in you. It took Jack a moment to accept his growing interest in you, praying that his angel in heaven would forgive him for moving on, let alone help him find the courage to ask you out. After 45 minutes of chatting in the produce section of the tiny wooden booth, and a short mosey to the cash, Jack finally found the courage to ask you on a proper date. The cool, confident cowboy was now replaced with a sweet, simple boy who wanted to get it right. You found his nervousness endearing, the way he fiddled with his moustache while trying to spit out the words to invite you out. How could you say no to those big brown puppy dog eyes? It was decided. The following Friday, Jack would swing by your place to pick you up for your first date: drinks at the local watering hole. If he was lucky, maybe you’d even let him have a dance by the ol’ jukebox.

At the respectable time of 7pm— sharp —Jack arrived with a gentle knock at your door. The anticipation was slowly knotting in his stomach, him frantically trying to untangle each worry and nerve until his attention turned with the sight of you standing in front of him. Jack could have caught flies with the way his mouth was hanging open, basking in your beauty. The silhouette of your dress flowing ever so gently among the evening breeze, causing his heart to race in his chest and pulse to quicken. The gentle flowers on the fabric trickled down just above where the hem of your skirt kissed your knee. Jack could feel his cheeks redden as he tried to look away, but simply couldn’t.

“Darlin’, you are gorgeous.” He breathes, clasping a firm hand to his chest as he tries to catch his breath, shooting you a look that makes butterflies soar in your tummy and knees buckle softly beneath you. His big brown eyes pooling into you, trying to take you in under the glow of the setting sun and dull porch light.

The hazy bar was filled with the regular crowd. The hum of people murmuring about their day filled the space, loud enough to drown out the music playing the background, but quiet enough to enjoy a conversation with the person in front of you. Jack had grabbed you both a drink, smirking as he asked you to pick your poison and shooting you a cheeky wink from the bar. After a couple of rounds, small talk and a shared bowl of peanuts, influenced by the liquor you’d consumed, you felt brave.

“How ‘bout a lil wager, cowboy?” You chirp, chewing softly on the straw of your drink, eyes focused on Jack’s as his fingers slowly twine themselves in yours, resting on the sticky wooden table top.

He smirks, his moustache following the coiling trail of his lips. Jack had never been one to back down from a bet, he wondered if it was too soon to show his competitive side, this was the first date after all.

You raise a single eyebrow, eagerly awaiting his reply. Jack tilts his head with a crooked smile, intrigued by your proposition and encouraging you to share what plagued your mind.

“If you can figure out how to take these coins off of this bill,” you muse, making the cotton bill taught, “only using only one hand, then the twenty is yours.” You smile, placing the twenty dollar bill on top of Jack’s empty beer bottle and stacking the spare change from the counter on top.

“And if I don’t?” He asks, seduction curling around his tone, like smoke off of a rich cigar. Jack’s dark eyes fall on you, his gazing piercing yours with a focus so intense that it sends a warmth through your belly.

You could feel your mouth go dry, suddenly very aware of your tongue and the words you are trying to choke out. Jack had taken your breath away with this sharp turn, from southern sweetheart to cowboy Casanova. In need of moisture, you clear your throat, averting your gaze from his to try and gain composure over yourself.

“Then the next round is on you.” You murmur, bringing your eyes up to meet Jack’s again, feeling yourself wanting to back away and draw first in this unspoken showdown.

“Hm…I think I could raise those stakes.” he smirks, leaning back on his bar stool. “If I don’t figure out your little party trick, then the next round is on me, darlin’.” Jack says confidently, bringing your free hand up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the delicate skin. “But if I do, then you can keep your twenty.” He adds, shrugging as if it were a matter of fact.

“Keep my twenty? You don’t want twenty dollars?” You scoff, playfully pulling your hand away from his as you reach for another sip of your drink, using this opportunity to ground yourself during this intense kinetic exchange.

“Nah, you keep it sugar.” Jack’s sly smile creeps up his face as he leans in, resting his chin on his hand, supported by his elbow which was now glued on the sticky table.

“Come on there’s gotta be something you want, something to wager?” You instigate, trying to rev that fire growing in your belly, eyes narrowing as you try to intimidate the cowboy. Proving to him that you aren’t going to back away from him now.

He thinks for a second, pretending to come up with this idea on the spot, snapping his fingers to indicate his little eurika! moment. Little did you know, this is what Jack had wanted from the very moment you made this little bet.

“There is.” His dark, raspy tone murmurs, further coaxing your curiosity. Jack slowly leans closer, his scent swirling off of him; notes of amber, leather, musk and cinnamon, a delicious combination that makes your head feel light and knees weak.

“More valuable than twenty dollars? Cause that’s all I’ve got.” You whisper, the facade fading as you feel yourself slowly submitting to Jack and his dark gaze.

“Darlin’, it’s much more valuable.” He says softly, grazing your ear with his moustache. His calloused finger brushing a piece of fallen hair behind your ear.

“And what would that be?” You breathe, the words barely coming out louder than a whisper.

“A dance with you.” He nods towards the jukebox towards the back of the bar.

This was the one moment in a long time where Jack was thankful for his training. Without breaking eye contact, he playfully tugged on the dollar bill, pretending to pull it out from the side. For a moment, you thought you had Jack fooled— another man falling for your cute bar trick. The feeling of the last few rounds was already making its way up your body, a warm, cozy feeling wrapping itself around you. There was certainly no need for another round, and who were you kidding? Jack had already paid for every round until this point and you had a sneaking suspicion that regardless of outcome, he would insist on paying for another.

Faking a deep sigh, Jack licks his finger and swipes down on the dollar bill, freeing it from the mismatched metal weighing it down. With a smirk and the tip of his hat, he hands you back your twenty dollar bill, trying to repress a chuckle. The look on your face was priceless and all he needed in return for foiling your trick.

“Pick a song, darlin’.” He says, handing you a handful of quarters, leaning up against the fluorescent machine. You press the cool metal in as you try to think of the perfect song, nothing too cheesy or outdated, but just right.

The melodious sound of a piano playing a familiar tune starts to flow out of the jukebox. Jack’s eyes grow wide with pride as he starts to recognize the song. A flushed feeling floods your cheeks, as he reaches his large, calloused hand out, offering yours a spot in his palm.

It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside,

I’m not one of those who can easily hide

You slowly find your rhythm with Jack’s guidance, his firm yet gentle grip guiding you around the jukebox, building your confidence and chuckling softly anytime you would mutter a sheepish apology after stepping on his foot.

“I didn’t know you knew how to dance.” You breathe out softly, finally making eye contact with him.

A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he leans in closer to you, your body pressing tighter into his chest. “Then there’s a lot you don’t know about me, darlin’.”

You could feel his smirk against your ear, eyes locking as he pulled away from your close embrace.

And you can tell everybody

This is your song

It may be quite simple but,

Now that it’s done

His gaze was magnetic, dark yet sweet, delicious like molasses with an affinity to coax you in. His thick, rugged hands held yours with a featherlight touch and the gentlest pressure on your lower back as he guided you around the floor. This moment was trance-like, as if you were the only two people in the bar. There was something enchanting about Jack Daniels, his ability to make you feel like the only girl in the world was dizzying. With the faintest touch, or twinkle of his eye, he had you hook, line and sinker.

It was refreshing to be out with a man like Jack — an actual man, one who wasn’t afraid of sharing his feelings with you, a man who was respectful and appreciative of you, a man who found the balance of southern chivalry and the ability to roll with the new age. With every twang of his southern drawl, your heart crept closer and closer to his. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him and those deep brown eyes, the ones that were gazing at you longingly, studying the precious features of your face.

Unbeknownst to you, Jack was drinking you in.

You had kindled something in him, something long repressed from his past and aching to explode to the forefront. The way you smiled at him made him tongue tied, he knew you were beautiful from the moment he met you, but getting to experience your beauty up close was astonishing. He tried to stifle the growing flames in his belly, employing his fear to extinguish these feelings but it only stoked the fire more, sending those flames burning. God, he wanted to kiss you so badly. He had from the moment you opened that door.

You notice a cheeky look across the cowboy’s eyes, his guiding hand slowly pushing you back from your resting place on his chest. Suddenly, the entire bar was spinning around you, once, then twice, and then you were back home in your place on Jack’s firm chest. His eyes asking for forgiveness in a childish, playful way.

I hope you don’t mind

I hope you don’t mind

That I put into words

How wonderful life is while

You’re in the world

Completely enraptured by one another until the sound of a wild guitar solo brought you back down to earth, the song you shared long gone and replaced by the sounds of an 80’s hair band.

A smooth Casanova through and through, Jack slowly presses his hand to your back and he slowly lowers you into a dip, your arm gripping tighter onto the back of his neck, using his taught chest as an anchor. Jack’s lips are now inches from yours, his moustache ghosting over your bottom lip, as if he were testing the waters faintly before bringing you back up to your feet.

You couldn’t decipher the soft look in his eyes, the warm brown tone being taken over by the dark pools of his irises as his thumb traces the contour of your full lips. His hot breath skimming the surface of your face, his mouth desperate and hungry for something.

A slow smile grows on your face, grateful for the liquid courage, slowly pulling his face closer to yours, lips inches from yours.

“You know, Jack…this is the part where you’re supposed to kiss me.” You whisper softly, granting the old fashioned man permission, subconsciously knowing what his eyes had been asking. Within milliseconds, his plush lips crashed onto yours, wrapping you into a passionate embrace. The taste of mint, whiskey and something inherently Jack on his lips. You couldn’t get enough of it.

Jack slowly breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead gently to yours as he catches his breath. His stomach filled with butterflies, dragonflies and ladybugs, anything lovely and sweet that reminds him of you, going absolutely wild from the simple touch of your lips. You were magic, like a drug Jack had so deeply yearned for all of these years, and he couldn’t get enough of you. He said a silent prayer of gratitude, in complete and utter disbelief to have this second chance at love in this life. He wasn’t going to take you for granted.

banners by @saradika-graphics 🤍

tag list: @josephquinnswhore @syd-djarin

[valentronic]

SAVE AS I SAVE! JUDGE AS I JUDGE!

Saw X? Never heard of her can I interest you in fanart that is somehow simultaneously for Saw IV and Saw VI? How I managed to forget about my all time favorite murder man I have no idea

[warren-keplers-funk-band]

quick little timeline thing for my daniel jacobi is mark midland au

[norgeant]

When I finally get round to drawing frat boys norgeant, this is gonna be what they're wearing

[spacedace]

It occured to me that in The One with the Secret Live In Girlfriend I haven’t actually said what my head canons for Super Serious Chaos’ height is yet and like, it’s so important to me that yall understand that Elle is tiny in that fic.

Like Jon and Damian both ended up having massive growth spurts and shot up to be these god damned giants, and Elle - taking after Danny - is just this itty bitty hellion. So here be my head canons for them, plus a size chart to really drive home the fucking nonsense height difference there is:

Jon: 6′9 - he’s the tallest in his family. Shot up past Clark in highschool and just kept growing. Elle calls him “Jolly” as short for “Jolly Green Giant”

Damian: 6:5 - he also had a ridiculous growth spurt in high school, but because he’s almost always next to Jon, people think he’s shorter than he is.

Elle: 4′9 - she’s tiny, she took after Danny, but somehow didn't even manage to break 5 feet like her template/dad/brother. She's two whole feet shorter than Jon, just a hair closer to Damian in height. Whenever some truly apocalyptic shit goes down and her boyfriends have to hide behind her, it gives some real serious “They asked for no pickles” vibes.

Just look at this height difference, tell me the idea of tiny Elle standing infront of her two giant BFs protectively isn’t the funniest shit you’ve ever seen. Also, Dick & Lois are there too just to give you an idea of what they're dealing with in the first two chapters 😂

[claudiatherelentless]

RIP Claudaniel. You would've loved Bullying your cringefail Vampire Parents together.

[sodafrog13]

"...WE'RE IN THIS SHIT TOGETHER, RIGHT?"

[thekleptogram]

hoffrigg collection

[doortjeanais]

Has this been done yet?

Au where in burned out F1 driver finds himself in some random city one summer break because silly season and rumours of him retiring soon is a-buzz. His car is underperforming and he’s overdriving and he just needed some time out. To clear his head.

Booked a flight to random non-F1 Asian city, checked in a hotel and the first thing he did was rent a car and look for a padel court.

There he meets an Australian businessman with a penchant for clothing, motocross, and is in the area looking to expand his wine business in the South East. The only other foreigner who likes to padel on a Tuesday at noon time.

Surprisingly unfamiliar with him.

Doesn’t even know his name.

A breath of fresh air. A handsome breath of fresh air.

Crushed him in padel. Fair.

In order to make up for beating him, invited him to go surfing to this island down south. Said he’s staying there for a week before he goes back to Perth.

He obliged. What’s one week when he has 3 to burn.

One week of surfing and riding dirt bikes into the sunset in a place he’s not very known in. Barely gets recognized.

A real breath of fresh air. Hot humid air. Fuck.

Day 5, drunk on gin and tonics, the truth serum of it all, lubed his tongue and he brazenly asked Mr Nice Guy if he’d like to come in his room and he smiled and nope, he will no longer elaborate what happened after that.

7 days became 14 days of nothing but him and Daniel and the absolute calm of the blue around them in Siargao. Away from business. Away from championships and pressure of an unforseeable future.

Day 15 knocks on their door, Daniel has to go back to Perth and Max needs to be back home. Back in the Netherlands. Back in time for the Dutch GP.

No talks about the future was made, only numbers exchanged. And maybe ‘love, I’ll see you later.’

On the plane back to Europe, he received a message.

‘I know who you are, just pretended not to. I just know you needed a person to feel like one again. I hope I did just that. You know what you want Maxy. All you have to do is grab it. I’ll see you later.’

And he did just that.

He won the Dutch GP. Told Christian his plans of retiring at the end of the season. Time for new blood to take over his place. 6 titles shouldn’t be so bad?

That night, when he’s about to leave the paddock, he heard a familiar voice.

‘It’s later, love. Care for a round of padel?’

Daniel in his sunkissed glory.

Just the fresh air he needed.

[prosperdemeter2]

Fuck-It Friday - glass

"Eddie, this is our patient, Evan." 

Their patient, sitting forlorn on an old, cracked barstool with his hand wrapped tightly in a blood soaked kitchen rag, was startlingly… handsome. Pretty? Eddie had run into his fair share of attractive patients during his probationary year, and it wasn't going to be any more of a problem now than it ever was but… he could acknowledge it at least to himself. "Hi, Rosa." He sounded miserable when he spoke. More than a bit embarrassed by the whole thing but he mustered up a wincing smile when Eddie lowered himself to kneeling in front of him. "Is Ollie okay?" 

"Evan, this is Eddie Diaz," Rosa gestured towards him. "He's our new probie." 

"Hi." Evan greeted softly with a hard swallow. 

"Hi," Eddie shot him a smile and sat back on his heels. "Mind if I take a look at that?" 

[bonkalore]

I'm just gonna post it before my perfectionism gets the best of me!! But them in Jayce's mindscape to help him when he gets in a Dread induced coma towards the end of my AU story was something I had wanted to do for ages now! Glad it looks mostly how I was actually picturing in my head for once tho. Shocker!

Kept being unsure on the colors but didn't want it TOO drowned out from the purple. Green is his normal magic color as just Jayce and not the Dread magic, so I wondered about working some in and managed to make it work a bit I think. Showing that there still is some of his consciousness left in there that the Dread is defensively trying to blockade.

[connorconsumestrousers]

First Time

a little tide over for a comic I'm working on [no correlation other than . it includes these losers ↑] ... lee drew the homophobic Fran hand ...

the thought behind why I drew this is under the cut 🫶

I think if Clay was introduced to alcohol differently, he would have a different relationship w it. I'd like to think Danielle sees it as a treat at the end of the day, since he isn't seen drinking at any other time of day in canon, and showing this as an example would make it less of a coping mechanism for Clay, and more of a "looking forward to" moment, to get him through the day.

[mossy-rainfrog]

[ID: A traditionally drawn and digitally colored drawing of Fedallah, Starbuck, and Ahab genderbent as women and wearing out-of-era outfits. Fedallah is a lean older middle-aged Persian woman with a light mustache, wearing a Zoroastrian headscarf, a white button down shirt with a black fashion harness belted over her torso. She wears black pants with four brass buttons on each side. She is smiling coyly and standing with her hip slightly cocked. Starbuck is a thin and buff middle aged white woman with short, wavy hair, freckles, and a light mustache. She is wearing a small jean vest over dress pants. The vest shows her stomach, which has a lightly visible happy trail, and the wrappings of a chest binder beneath. Starbuck is standing rigidly with her arms behind her back, looking off neutrally to the side. Ahab is a fat and buff older middle-aged Persian woman with curly graying hair in a bun, and scars over her face and body, including a lightning scar over the left side of her face. She is wearing a tight black dress with a deep v-neck that ties back behind her neck. She is standing with a neutral expression and holding a harpoon in one hand as she looks at the other two women.

Next there are three photos of the live performers: Danielle McKnight, a thin Black woman with shoulder-length curly hair wearing the same outfit as Fedallah without the headscarf, Courtney Basset, a thin white woman with chest-length straight auburn hair wearing the same outfit as Starbuck, and Grace McLean, a thin white woman with shoulder-length brown hair wearing the same outfit as Ahab. Danielle sings into a mic with a hand extended, looking sternly down over at Ahab. Courtney sings with a smile, holding her mic to her chest. Grace is not singing, and is combing back her hair with both hands, eyes closed. End ID.]

been having what the kids call an Extremely Normal Time about the concept album Kill The Whale* lately so I decided to draw my butch/genderbent designs of the characters in the outfits their album counterparts wear in the live show. im so fukcign gay 😀👍

*For any who don't know, Kill The Whale is a concept musical album based on MobyDick that genderbends much of the crew! There's a love triangle between Starbuck, Ahab, and Fedallah (with some incredible nuances about Fedallah being exotified/fetishized for her prophecies and then her later taking back control of herself). It is very wlw and fascinatingly composed. However comma there are also Extensive Critiques on this as an adaptation of MD (particularly in reference to racebending and really altering character narratives) so. proceed with awareness! i will be saying more later lol

EDIT: Thank you so much to the folks who caught that I had Danielle's name wrong!!!! I owe you my life!!!! 🙏

[zappedbyzabka]

He went FULL princess with the singing birds and sparkly eyes. “Hate you? My God, I could never.”

Picture him saying this to Daniel…