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stillpanicking · 1 year ago

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Apology Fudge: Interlude

An interlude to this, this post I made, Apology Fudge. I have decided to write a full on fanfic of the AU. But before I get to the whole... Jason finding the container of Apology Fudge... let us start from the beginning.

THE ORIGINS OF THE APOLOGY FUDGE!

Well... an intro that is...

Just a heads up... I'm currently dealing with a family loss, please don't pressure me for quick updates at this moment.

Jack knew something was going on with his youngest. He may not be a consistent parent in his kids lives, he knows his kids. Just as he knows whatever is going on with Danny, Jazz knows and is doing her best to help him. At age 15, Danny became rather reserved and kept hiding away in a black and white hoodie Sam gave him for their anniversary. The hoodie brought Danny comfort, nearly tearing down their home when it went missing once.

After that, Danny-boy behavior changed. It became… too perfect. Too good. Hiding behind far strained of a smile.

"He reminds me of me, when I tried to be the perfect son for my parents." Jack confessed to Maddie one night. "That was before I left for university…"

Maddie placed a hand over his heart in an attempt to console hm. Despite how open her husband is about his family, any mention of his parents always seemed to damper Jack's entire mood. His parents never approved of his fascination with ghosts, let alone his choice to move out of state to continue his studies. They had cut all contact with their own son until he came to his senses. Seeing as Jack hasn’t spoken to his parents since Jazz’s birth…

“…I’m going to take him out fishing this weekend.”

Jack could tell the moment he and his son exited the vehicle with their fishing gear on, that it was a good start to an early morning. Small talk was done, mainly himself going on about wanting to see if he could catch a ghost fish. Maybe his old pet fish, Fishy Fish. He still swears he could see Fishy Fish in his dreams at times. Danny relaxed some more, throwing in some jokes of his own about Fishy Fish and maybe they should get an aquarium.

"That's the spirit!" Jack exclaimed, turning on the engine to the fishing boat. "Now to get us some dinner!"

Yes... dinner. If Danny is able to maintain his composure for that long. Sure, he loves spending time with his dad. More so when it comes to the fishing trips. But that changed after... smiling to hide his secrets and the fears that threaten to take over. His smile strained as his dad talked about some recent weapon designs he's been developing.

Looking away, tightly gripping the fishing rod as he tried to not think about it. The weapons that he knew that he would be at the opposite side of. He did not even notice that his father's voice trailed off.

"Dad…"

"Yeah, Danny-Boy?"

"…. you… love me, right?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I love ya! You, Jazzy-Bear and Maddie!" Jack placed down his own fishing rod to turn his body to face his son. He could see Danny folded into himself, still wearing that hoodie of his. The sight made his stomach churn. "No matter what. No matter what you do. No matter what. I will always love you, being proud of you and always, know that!"

Danny looked away, his bottom lip wobbled as he tried to take in his words. He nearly flinched when he felt something touch his head.

"Danny… is everything alright? I know I haven't been present in yours and Jazz's lives… but your mother and I are here for you two. I am here for you." Jack attempted to talk with his son. Moving his hand away but just enough to give his son enough room for himself. "I know you've been doing your best to be perfect and good."

Danny's head snapped over to him, eyes wide and mouth agape as he attempted to come up with an excuse.

Jack raised a hand to stop him. "I did the same thing when I was your age… and I'm going to tell you what I wished my own father had told me… You don't have to be perfect. You don't have to be good all the time. You don't need to earn our approval. We love you and have already earned our approval! Whatever you want to do with your life, it's your choice! Don't feel like you have to be a certain way to get our approval."

"Do you promise not to get mad?"

Do you promise to not get mad?

"What have I done?"

I killed my own son... This is all my fault.

Tag List:

@littlebugg13

@persephonedevoted

@inkblotalchemist

If you wish to be tagged, please head over to this post. It'll be easier for me to track it there.

D/C: This is a Good Parent Fentons fic. I like suspense and introspective that has one seeing what the character is thinking.

#apology fudge #Dc x DP #danny phantom #jack fenton #fanfic #dcxdp #Chapter 1

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zoriwuff · 10 months ago

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hi I'm adopting my au hard rules RN

this new mlp infection au has me in a grimdark chokehold. so much so that I slept with the lights on last night!!! I've been sifting through so much content. My favs have been from Chloe Alonzo (etc.etcetera) and Ariel (grimskelegirl).

With that being said I've decided to set myself some hard rules for my personal headcanon!! I want to work on some self-insert art with my oc FeatherBlade, so here are some of my thoughts on the universe:

How it started: Swamp Fever (canon to the show). A small population of Hayseed Willow trees (unnamed within the show) has made root in the everfree forest near the bog. Flash bee habitats are dying and the Everfree population has been MIA. Unfortunately, as one of the few pollinators immune to swamp fever, the Hayseed Willow trees have been on the fritz. Have you ever noticed how the bog always seems a little different every time you visit? The tree's aren't just changing every time you wander near them, no, they're entirely new trees from the last time you were there. Previously overlooked due to the originating population being from Hayseed Swamps, it's been observed that Hayseed Willows have a much faster lifecycle than typical trees. Due to the lack of abundant pollination, the Hayseed Willows have been producing more pungent spores in the face of dwindling repopulation within the Everfree. "Deemed unsafe due to the threat of swamp fever, the Hayseed Willows lack studied materials. Desperate times have given us reason to look into them further. Any information is useful information. Ponies are dying, we need to find answers. These new conditions have had... detrimental effects on the larger mammal and mammal adjacent populations surrounding the area (ie ponies, bears, gryphons, manticores, etc). A spore based infection hasn't been observed in cold blooded creatures (ei dragons, kelpies, serpents, various reptilian and aquatic species). Pure avian species getting infected hasn't been observed either, their resting body temperatures tend to be higher than mammals. Could infection rates be linked to host body temperature? Does the spore infection have to grow and evolve to combat the host's immune system fever response? Conclusion unknown." The rest of notes here are scattered. Everything seems to be written with extreme haste. Regarding the mane6: Twilight: Healthy. Stuck in Canterlot hospital both due to quarantine and studying. No progress, pulling samples from infected and any known immune ponies she can find. Twi has suggested case-controlled studies in allegedly unaffected species. This idea has been highly protested, though the ponies in protest no longer seem to be... There's been various creatures being moved to and from the hospital lower levels in completely blacked out boxes. Much of staff has no idea what she's doing down there anymore. Rarity: Healthy? Currently at sweet apple acres with the apple family. The boutique was quickly breached by infected ponies. Fashionable doesn't always mean functional, and the same applied to the boutique's exterior. Rarity was hurt in a scuffle trying to rescue opal, though infection not likely. She and opal are safe. Sweetie bell is currently at their parent's home in Canterlot. Rarity hasn't been able to contact her as the phone lines are down. She's worried about her safety, but has been told the Canterlot quarantine procedures have been successful. Pinkie Pie: Healthy, too op to get infected. She made it to the Pie family rock farm. Everyone is currently safe. Ghastly Gorge has been a great natural barrier between them and Everfree forest. No infected have been sighted yet, they've all been freely roaming the farm property without worry, but it's getting too quiet outside.. Apple Jack: Healthy. Locked down at the apple family farm. Rarity, Big Mac and Apple Bloom have all been healthy and safe indoors. Granny on the other hoof is losing it. After what looked like a small surface bite with no skin breakage, they thought she would be ok. But she has since gone mute and wanders aimlessly around the house. She hasn't been seen eating or drinking anything but shows no sign of fever or infection progression. Big Mac made the decision to lock her in the barn after an incident that put the family at-risk. Apple Jack has been observing her whenever the coast is clear outside.

Rainbow Dash: Infected? Dash has been trying to convince Canterlot guards to let her in to see Twilight. Due to visible bite wound, they haven't let her in. Dash has grown neurotic under stress and hasn't given up trying to break in. She doesn't appear to be worsening but her agitation has been subject of debate on her progression. There's been talk of escorting her to the hospital but no official action has been made. Guards are growing tired of keeping her out on top of keeping the rest of the infected at bay. How long until they tell Twilight she's here? She's hurting herself trying to break in.. Fluttershy: Healthy. Under strict protection of Discord at his home. The level of chaos down in ponyville has struck fear into his softened heart and he refuses to let Fluttershy get hurt. Discord know's a thing or two about chaos but not even he could conjure up such an outbreak. It's unnatural, but caused by nature? That's exactly what's scaring him. She's been trying to convince him to let her help. Her communication with the wildlife may be what Twilight could utilize to advance in her studies. Not to mention how worried she is about the animals at the cottage. The two of them might be exactly what Equestria needs right now.. next post: royalty at canterlot + what's going on at the crystal empire, timeline on how far things have spread.

#mlp #mlp fim #mlp infection au #mlp headcanons #swamp fever #text post #mlp wandering tree au

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that-one-i-think · 2 months ago

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MCD OC TASHI BACKSTORY (Fun concept! Plz read)

He is from a small concept fic on tumblr I made called "Tiger Lilies and Dandelions". I never actually wrote much about him other than he goes by Tashi and is based on the Cursed Dream Tiger. I am in a lore mood right now so here we go

Takehiko "Tashi" Toraichi was a member of the original royal family of Tu'la and was in line for the throne after his two older sister with two younger sisters following. He gained the childhood nickname of Tashi because it means "want to" and he was an incredibly energetic and explorative child. Always wanting to do everything including fashion, magic studies, archery, sword fighting, embroidery, writing, music. Literally anything, a jack of all trades and master of none, except embroidery, he excels at that.

He was a wild child because he never had the pressure of ruling a kingdom placed on his head, for all of his sisters were much more favorable, it being said that Tu'la would have four rulers instead of one by the time all of the children came of age. By the time Tashi was thirteen it was already decided that he would only ascend to the throne should all of his sisters die, but the likelyhood of that happening was slim.

Unfortunately, fate plays with loaded dice. His Uncle Kozuka, brother of the current King of Tu'la staged a coup. The entire royal family was slaughtered, his parents were the first to go followed by all the the servants, Tsubaki the oldest, Ume the 2nd, Tashi, Sumire, and finally Himawari. Tashi while running with his younger sisters had dragged them to the temple, knowing that from there they could run to town but as careful as he was in the dead of night, it did not matter as the army of meif'wa all possessed night vision. Tashi collapsed in the middle of the temple, bleeding from a cut on his know and an arrow to his eye. He watched as his sisters ran only to have his skull crushed on the altar, last sight being Sumire and Himawari falling to a volley of arrows. (DEPRESSING)

A soul filled with rage such as his would be a prime target for the shadow knight transformation, but Tashi died in a temple to a being much older than Shad, one much older than the corruption of the nether. For Tashi died in a temple to the end, a temple built to appease the spirits of the land, he was an unjust sacrifice to those of the dead. A sacrifice that did not go in vain as the next day Tashi found himself alive and awake in the middle of a cave covered in sculk. No longer just a tiger meif'wa but a now living spirit. (Think Malachi but was revived human and didn't stay ghost)

He left the cave but found that his new left eye (the one shot with an arrow) was sensitive, and saw things that weren't always there. His sleep was a lot weirder as he found himself dreaming of places where he has never been and could not be, even finding himself in the dreams of others. One day he even woke up to be on a completely different continent, all the way in Ru'aun. Waking just in time to save a new immigrant family of meif'was from bandits. Tashi didn't come back just as a spirit, but as a living guardian.

Oddly enough, he took to this in stride, using every teleportation to help those and explore, a distraction from the cruelty he faced. He picked up sword fighting, painting, and became whatever was required of him, a dream to those in need. Though the powers weren't always good as soon Tashi found himself stuck in his tiger form more often than his human. He felt more primal, but more relaxed. Animals were more connected to spirits after all. His powers reached a peak when he was summoned to an unknown island, one riddled with shadow knights about to sacrfice a small Tu'la baby to open a nether portal. Having just killed her mother previous.

Seeing the young baby in danger awoke something in Tashi and suddenly he found himself asleep as a monster took hold. His stripes were no longer on his body and he was no longer even an animal but a beast. He slaughtered all of the shadow knights, waking up once more as he swallowed the last one whole. He stayed with the child until he heard the loud cawing of Wyverns, knowing that wyverns mean no harm to children, that is where he made his escape.

He continued on for a few years, letting his body take him wherever he awoke until it stopped. He hadn't moved in his sleep in weeks, alone in the forests of Ru'aun when he encountered a small child, one with familiar blue eyes and yellow-bark colored hair. A small lost girl named Lilith, a flower much like his sisters.

HIS BACKSTORY IS COMPLETE! I will probably write more about him but here we go. This leads directly into my old concept story/fic about him Tiger Lilies and Dandelions

#aphblr #aphmau #aphverse #aphmau mcd #mcd #minecraft diaries #mcd oc #mcd oc tashi #lilith garnet #sad #wyvern #mcd shadow knights

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tryingtryingtryingtryingg · 7 months ago

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I’m back again had a weekend and a hyperfixation and here’s another essay to send into the ether. I’m going to be talking mostly about contemporary art here. So. (Op feel free to ignore this, I’m sure you’re sick of responses to this post by now.)

So I felt the need to respond to the original post because even though i know it wasn’t intended that way, I could envision a scenario where someone saw it and decided that going to an art museum would be a waste of time, and I didn’t want them to feel that, especially when some of the statements made were just flat-out wrong. Maybe it was hyperbole for the sake of humour but eeh I didn’t want anyone leaving thinking curators were just sitting around with their thumbs up their ass jacking themselves off to their “perfect collection” while laughing at us plebs. That’s private collectors lol.

I was slightly frustrated because the post was bringing up these issues as if there aren’t entire areas of curatorial studies dedicated to arguing over how much to reveal and how much to leave open to the audience (wall text discourse). As if art has a set meaning writtten in stone, and the role of the museum is just to engagingly dispense that information to the viewer. As if audiences don’t draw new meanings out of works of art all the time. As if artists aren’t constantly playing with the line between something being seen and something being understood.

Scott Burton is someone that I should maybe mention. He was an artist active in the 60s through the 80s. One aspect of his work was these public sculptures he was making that kind of resembled furniture, only there would always be something *slightly* off about them in the the way they looked, or the way they positioned your body when you sat in them. They didn’t obviously look like artworks. They didn’t scream for your attention. The first time I saw one I didn’t see it—I thought it was just an interesting bench. It was only later, after seeing his work mentioned in a talk, that I realised what I’d been looking at.

Part of what Burton was trying to create in his work was this kind of ability to go unnoticed—to be able to pass for regular furniture—but then if you knew, you *knew*. It might sound exclusionary, and it’s hard to deny that’s exactly what it is, but for him this dynamic he wanted with his audience came out of his experience of cruising as a gay man—the way you would signal your availability to others secretly in broad daylight. The way you hid in plain sight waiting for someone to see you for who you are. Waiting to see someone like you.

So imagine you are a curator, how do you label a work like this? Where would you put the label? Should you point the work out and make sure everyone knows it’s there? Or should you stay true to the artist’s vision and thus allow people to maybe miss out on an amazing work of art?

Do you think it’s a bad thing, to be allowed to overlook something, only to realise later that you are also capable of ignoring things in plain sight? Is there not meaning in that experience? Does it not make you want to look at the world differently after you’ve experienced it?

Does it make a difference how you find out? Through the wall text? Through a friend? Through a book you found after googling the artist’s name? Through a gallery sitter whispering in your ear? A stranger on the internet?

And staying on the subject of queer artists. The museum could explain things by going hey look, this painting here is queer art made by a queer person, that Actually Did You Know amongst the queers [this symbol] over here has [this meaning]. And then every homophobe or person with homophobic leanings is going to shutter themselves to the work no matter what it is. Do you not think there is value in letting someone like that fall in love with an artwork, for it to speak to them, for them to find out only after sitting with it a while that it had been created by someone they’ve been taught to find disgusting? I’m not saying “This-is-How-We-Win-Over-the-‘Phobes”—art isn’t a substitute for activism—but is there not potential in the space created by that deferred realisation? Do you not think there is value in a queer audience member recognising [that symbol] and feeling like they’ve been granted access to a hidden dimension of the work? That the artwork is made richer for them specifically, because they speak its language?

I’m not saying this is the only reason why museums might decide to be less didactic, but it is one of them, and I hope that people might be able to see that, and recognise these decisions as *decisions*. Decisions that have usually been made in an attempt to balance the curator’s sometimes conflicting duties of care, to the artwork, to the artist, and to various audiences.

People might not like these decisions, I don’t always like these decisions. (And very often the decisions are objectively shit. Did the curator include a bunch of environmentalist artwork in their latest show because the museum is getting flak for being heavily sponsored by oil companies? We *should* drag them for that!)

A lot of work does require some explanation, I won’t deny that, but i genuinely haven’t seen a museum plopping something like a urinal in front of people and expecting them to figure it out themselves. Or okay, say maybe they didn’t explain the Duchamp urinal. But did they explain the Man Ray sculpture next to it? Would it be possible to use the information revealed there to interpret the urinal as well, if you know they were made the same year?

You might be going to an art museum hoping to learn more concrete information about the history of art, and you might leave slightly disappointed. That’s perfectly valid! It’s fine to feel frustrated. But maybe the reason for that isn’t always “art museums suck and curators don’t know what they’re doing”. If you find your curiosity unsatisfied there are books you can look at, documentaries you can watch (many of them produced by the museums themselves for this express purpose, because they hope people will want to know more than could ever be fit into a single exhibition). Should they maybe publicise these resources more? Definitely. But they’re not intentionally hiding them from you.

I don’t go to something like a natural history museum expecting to become an expert on geology. Going through everything can be overwhelming. I leave maybe knowing that the Cretaceous period came after the Jurassic one, plus the names of a couple dinosaurs that were alive in each one or something. I don’t think that means the museum failed me. If I wanted to know more about anything specific I’ve now been equipped with vocabulary to go off researching on my own. I have a couple names and a couple dates that can get me started. If I see a character pick a chunk of obsidian off the ground in a movie I can go “aay volcano nearby”, because I now know obsidian is made of lava. Can you tell I’m not a geologist?

I’m not saying art museums aren’t elitist, or corrupt, or that they shouldn’t change, or that things are acceptable the way they are, I am just attempting to shed a bit of light on an area that might seem very opaque to many people, and to explain the reasons why some things are the way they are. But I’m very much not an industry insider here, I’ve never worked in museums and i don’t care to, and I’ve definitely met Art People who seemed weirdly invested in proving they were better than me. Im not writing all this to try to defend the museum’s sanctity or honour or whatever, I’m writing this hoping to show people that they can still find meaningful experiences in these spaces, despite the many flaws.

That being said i don’t want to hijack the space for people to vent their museum-related frustrations or dismiss anyone wanting more out of them, and I’m sorry if it comes across that way. People are welcome to disagree with what I’ve said here but I hope it’s still like… informative or something. I get mad at museums too fwiw✌️

I would be very interested in hearing the museum design rant

by popular demand: Guy That Took One (1) Museum Studies Class Focused On Science Museums Rants About Art Museums. thank u for coming please have a seat

so. background. the concept of the "science museum" grew out of 1) the wunderkammer (cabinet of curiosities), also known as "hey check out all this weird cool shit i have", and 2) academic collections of natural history specimens (usually taxidermied) -- pre-photography these were super important for biological research (see also). early science museums usually grew out of university collections or bequests of some guy's Weird Shit Collection or both, and were focused on utility to researchers rather than educational value to the layperson (picture a room just, full of taxidermy birds with little labels on them and not a lot of curation outside that). eventually i guess they figured they could make more on admission by aiming for a mass audience? or maybe it was the cultural influence of all the world's fairs and shit (many of which also caused science museums to exist), which were aimed at a mass audience. or maybe it was because the research function became much more divorced from the museum function over time. i dunno. ANYWAY, science and technology museums nowadays have basically zero research function; the exhibits are designed more or less solely for educating the layperson (and very frequently the layperson is assumed to be a child, which does honestly irritate me, as an adult who likes to go to science museums). the collections are still there in case someone does need some DNA from one of the preserved bird skins, but items from the collections that are exhibited typically exist in service of the exhibit's conceptual message, rather than the other way around.

meanwhile at art museums they kind of haven't moved on from the "here is my pile of weird shit" paradigm, except it's "here is my pile of Fine Art". as far as i can tell, the thing that curators (and donors!) care about above all is The Collection. what artists are represented in The Collection? rich fucks derive personal prestige from donating their shit to The Collection. in big art museums usually something like 3-5% of the collection is ever on exhibit -- and sometimes they rotate stuff from the vault in and out, but let's be real, only a fraction of an art museum's square footage is temporary exhibits. they're not going to take the scream off display when it's like the only reason anyone who's not a giant nerd ever visits the norwegian national museum of art. most of the stuff in the vault just sits in the vault forever. like -- art museum curators, my dudes, do you think the general public gives a SINGLE FUCK what's in The Collection that isn't on display? no!! but i guarantee you it will never occur, ever, to an art museum curator that they could print-to-scale high-res images of artworks that are NOT in The Collection in order to contextualize the art in an exhibit, because items that are not in The Collection functionally do not exist to them. (and of course there's the deaccessioning discourse -- tumblr collectively has some level of awareness that repatriation is A Whole Kettle of Worms but even just garden-variety selling off parts of The Collection is a huge hairy fucking deal. check out deaccessioning and its discontents; it's a banger read if you're into This Kind Of Thing.)

with the contents of The Collection foregrounded like this, what you wind up with is art museum exhibits where the exhibit's message is kind of downstream of what shit you've got in the collection. often the message is just "here is some art from [century] [location]", or, if someone felt like doing a little exhibit design one fine morning, "here is some art from [century] [location] which is interesting for [reason]". the displays are SOOOOO bad by science museum standards -- if you're lucky you get a little explanatory placard in tiny font relating the art to an art movement or to its historical context or to the artist's career. if you're unlucky you get artist name, date, and medium. fucker most of the people who visit your museum know Jack Shit about art history why are you doing them dirty like this

(if you don't get it you're just not Cultured enough. fuck you, we're the art museum!)

i think i've talked about this before on this blog but the best-exhibited art exhibit i've ever been to was actually at the boston museum of science, in this traveling leonardo da vinci exhibit where they'd done a bunch of historical reconstructions of inventions out of his notebooks, and that was the main Thing, but also they had a whole little exhibit devoted to the mona lisa. obviously they didn't even have the real fucking mona lisa, but they went into a lot of detail on like -- here's some X-ray and UV photos of it, and here's how art experts interpret them. here's a (photo of a) contemporary study of the finished painting, which we've cleaned the yellowed varnish off of, so you can see what the colors looked like before the varnish yellowed. here's why we can't clean the varnish off the actual painting (da vinci used multiple varnish layers and thinned paints to translucency with varnish to create the illusion of depth, which means we now can't remove the yellowed varnish without stripping paint).

even if you don't go into that level of depth about every painting (and how could you? there absolutely wouldn't be space), you could at least talk a little about, like, pigment availability -- pigment availability is an INCREDIBLY useful lens for looking at historical paintings and, unbelievably, never once have i seen an art museum exhibit discuss it (and i've been to a lot of art museums). you know how medieval european religious paintings often have funky skin tones? THEY HADN'T INVENTED CADMIUM PIGMENTS YET. for red pigments you had like... red ochre (a muted earth-based pigment, like all ochres and umbers), vermilion (ESPENSIVE), alizarin crimson (aka madder -- this is one of my favorite reds, but it's cool-toned and NOT good for mixing most skintones), carmine/cochineal (ALSO ESPENSIVE, and purple-ish so you wouldn't want to use it for skintones anyway), red lead/minium (cheaper than vermilion), indian red/various other iron oxide reds, and apparently fucking realgar? sure. whatever. what the hell was i talking about.

oh yeah -- anyway, i'd kill for an art exhibit that's just, like, one or two oil paintings from each century for six centuries, with sample palettes of the pigments they used. but no! if an art museum curator has to put in any level of effort beyond writing up a little placard and maybe a room-level text block, they'll literally keel over and die. dude, every piece of art was made in a material context for a social purpose! it's completely deranged to divorce it from its material context and only mention the social purpose insofar as it matters to art history the field. for god's sake half the time the placard doesn't even tell you if the thing was a commission or not. there's a lot to be said about edo period woodblock prints and mass culture driven by the growing merchant class! the met has a fuckton of edo period prints; they could get a hell of an exhibit out of that!

or, tying back to an earlier thread -- the detroit institute of arts has got a solid like eight picasso paintings. when i went, they were kind of just... hanging out in a room. fuck it, let's make this an exhibit! picasso's an artist who pretty famously had Periods, right? why don't you group the paintings by period, and if you've only got one or two (or even zero!) from a particular period, pad it out with some decent life-size prints so i can compare them and get a better sense for the overarching similarities? and then arrange them all in a timeline, with little summaries of what each Period was ~about~? that'd teach me a hell of a lot more about picasso -- but you'd have to admit you don't have Every Cool Painting Ever in The Collection, which is illegalé.

also thinking about the mit museum temporary exhibit i saw briefly (sorry, i was only there for like 10 minutes because i arrived early for a meeting and didn't get a chance to go through it super thoroughly) of a bunch of ship technical drawings from the Hart nautical collection. if you handed this shit to an art museum curator they'd just stick it on the wall and tell you to stand around and look at it until you Understood. so anyway the mit museum had this enormous room-sized diorama of various hull shapes and how they sat in the water and their benefits and drawbacks, placed below the relevant technical drawings.

tbh i think the main problem is that art museum people and science museum people are completely different sets of people, trained in completely different curatorial traditions. it would not occur to an art museum curator to do anything like this because they're probably from the ~art world~ -- maybe they have experience working at an art gallery, or working as an art buyer for a rich collector, neither of which is in any way pedagogical. nobody thinks an exhibit of historical clothing should work like a clothing store but it's fine when it's art, i guess?

also the experience of going to an art museum is pretty user-hostile, i have to say. there's never enough benches, and if you want a backrest, fuck you. fuck you if going up stairs is painful; use our shitty elevator in the corner that we begrudgingly have for wheelchair accessibility, if you can find it. fuck you if you can't see very well, and need to be closer to the art. fuck you if you need to hydrate or eat food regularly; go to our stupid little overpriced cafeteria, and fuck you if we don't actually sell any food you can eat. (obviously you don't want someone accidentally spilling a smoothie on the art, but there's no reason you couldn't provide little Safe For Eating Rooms where people could just duck in and monch a protein bar, except that then you couldn't sell them a $30 salad at the cafe.) fuck you if you're overwhelmed by noise in echoing rooms with hard surfaces and a lot of people in them. fuck you if you are TOO SHORT and so our overhead illumination generates BRIGHT REFLECTIONS ON THE SHINY VARNISH. we're the art museum! we don't give a shit!!!

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livingfictionsystem · 9 months ago

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Frequent Fronters Survey!

Full name? Xanthe Crow Lutece Zeitstück.

Gender/Pronouns? Androgyne. They and it, but 'it' is moreso preferred!

Orientation? Very pansexual. As in, gender has never factored into my attraction at all.

Role in the System? Cohost/social protector, everyone's collective OC, Cult Smasher 5000.

Star sign? Scorpio Sun, Leo Moon, Virgo Rising.

Favorite films? V for Vendetta, 2013 Great Gatsby, Grand Budapest Hotel.

Favorite TV series? Peaky Blinders and Shadow and Bone!

Favorite book? The Picture of Dorian Gray, the Diviners series, and the Six of Crows duology.

Favorite music? Shayfer James, Charming Disaster, Sarah and the Safe Word, Starset.

Favorite video games? Saints Row 2 and the entirety of the Bioshock series.

Characters you relate to? If Captain Jack Sparrow, Magnus Bane, and Howl Pendragon had a queer child, it would just be me.

Who’s your inner-system circle? Kaspar, Phisoxa, Aberle, Sumire, Koji, Prosper, sometimes the Harveys and, when it's Really a party, Oscar Wilde.

What do you look like in the inworld? Not too different than the outerworld! My skin is darker and my eyes are wider, rounder, and lighter. My mouth is wider and I'm a bit shorter-- about 5"5. My hair is split blonde and black, but in the inworld, I have a blonde streak on the black side and a dark blue streak on the blonde side.

What’s your aesthetic? I think y'all know. No, I'm a Victorian fop with a love of jewel tones, especially blue and gold. Sometimes I go more pirate, sometimes more vampire, sometimes a constellation-clad library goblin. But yes, I love neo-Victorian, ouji, fancy pirate, etc.

What’s your internal origin story? I was essentially an OC Phisoxa created to entertain his adoptive son. In the story he created, I was an androgynous AFAB German who moved to London and lived in a clocktower, before discovering I was actually dead the whole time. Then I was rekilled for being queer and "masquerading as a boy." (I reworked Phisoxa's original story because, no offense, but I'm the better writer. It's for sale!) Then Phisoxa decided that she wanted to bring her OC to life, and collected bits of souls, includling her own, to create my personality. Once Phisoxa had like, the rough draft of me, he stuck it into a clockwork crow, then a blue and gold pocket watch, with the idea that someone would find a body to fling me into. Phisoxa made me to have a creation with pieces of his own soul and to also have someone that will "break the cycle." See, there's a curse involving how we always end up with abusive people, in the inworld. Which has really OBVIOUS applications in the outerworld, when I look at it. (Phisoxa uses she and he, if you're confused.)

What’s your day-to-day life internally? Anywhere from brilliantly fun to insanely stressful. Sometimes, I'm in a castle and drinking cocktails and watching two centuries-old vampires banter about petty shit, sometimes I'm trying to talk someone out of committing suicide via magical/possessed means, sometimes I'm fighting for my life and actively feeling everything, sometimes I'm flying as a crow to the abandoned European building. It seems like it's always me involved in setting fires or putting them out. I live an old inn in Prague and work there for room and board. I also spend a lot of time in dimensional rifts and timelocked places since some of my favourite people are actually dead/ghosts in modern times.

What’s your day-to-day life externally? Taking selfies, writing, reading, promoting my work. I love exploring Rochester and taking walks, especially past anywhere that has a "no trespassing" sign. I love working at the bar and bantering with my hotel friends. I eat and breathe literature and love to rewatch some of my favourite shows. I do have good friends around here but we're all chronically under-spooned groundhogs that just lift up flags that say "I SUPPORT YOU' when none of us have the energy to text back. More often, I'll lock myself into my study and have a controlled breakdown about what's happened to me and suddenly a masterpiece comes out of my fingertips.

What do you wish more people knew about you?

What you see is what you get. I'm not as bad as whatever ex you're flashing back to, I'm not as good as you want me to be. I'm a selfish, aggrandizing, pun-wielding drunk with my head in the clouds, but I do my best not to be a hypocrite and not hurt the people I care about. You're not going to save me and I'm not going to save you, but we can at least trade jokes hunt for the art and romance in this fetid reality.

-Xanthe 🪶

#disassociative identity disorder #did system #xanthe #did alters #meet the alters

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underqualified-human · 2 years ago

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Henry Jekyll NSFW Alphabet

A/N: I feel like I’m going to end up writing a version of this with Hyde. Removed X

Warnings: Massive warning for NSFW themes

Fandom: The strange case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde

Pronouns: No pronouns used for reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Henry doesn't have much knowledge about what to do after sex.

You’d definitely have to be the one to bring up your needs to him.

After a discussion he’ll easily get the hang of it

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Henry’s favourite body part on you is your eyes. He likes to gaze into them, both during intimate moments and randomly throughout the day.

His favourite body part on himself is his neck. He likes when you kiss his neck, both because it’s an intimate gesture and because feeling your lips against his pulse reminds himself he’s still alive.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s pretty basic, prefering to cum inside of you.

Partly because it’s what he’s most comfortable and because knowing a servant has to clean up after an intimate night would be too embarrassing to handle

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Both he and Hyde are into bondage, both giving and receiving. Though Henry prefers to be on the receiving end

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He had zero sexual experience. Most of his time was spent on scientific study.

He’s a fast learner though, so he’ll be quick to know what you like

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

I was originally going to say Missionary but then I decided, you know what? He probably likes being ridden.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

This man is a doctor in Victorian London. He is making no jokes during sex.

Sometimes takes it a little too seriously

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’d probably only shave once it starts to become an inconvenience for him.

He definitely washes down there as well

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Henry is very intimate during the moment

As stated previously he likes to make eye contact.

He’ll also be very gentle with his touches

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Rarely masterbates

On the off chance he does it’s usually at night,either because he’s in the mood and doesn't want to wake you or because he can’t sleep

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As previously stated, he’s really into bondage

Another kink I think he had is praise (receiving). He’s gotten praised for his work before but there’s something special about being praised as a person

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Henry greatly values his privacy so I’m inclined to believe he’d only really want to have sex in his bedroom.

He’d maybe agree to have sex in the bathroom with enough convincing

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

There isn't really any specific thing that turns him on, he just gets aroused sometimes.

If you were the one to initiate he’d probably get turned on

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

One of his hard limits is having sex in his lab/office

Not only is there a risk that someone could walk in but there’s also a lot of dangerous chemicals in his lab

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He actually prefers giving over receiving

He’s not all that skilled but he is enthusiastic

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He has a pretty slow pace on most days, some days he’s more rough and frantic with his thrusts

There are also days where he decides to let you take the lead

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not really into quickies all that much

If you are he’ll indulge you but he usually prefers to take his time when it comes to sex

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

No, odd for a scientist, but no he doesn't like to experiment much

Same goes for risk taking, he has a reputation to uphold so if the risk involves the possibility of someone walking in it’s a hard no

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Henry can go for about 2-3 rounds, he usually gets really tired after 2 but can go for longer on a good day

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No to all of these, he does not own any sex toys (apparently Victorians did have them though)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Doesn’t tease much, a lot of the time he’d prefer to get straight to the intimacy aspect

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s usually pretty quiet, mostly just grunts. Occasionally he does let out some loud moans but those are few and far between

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I feel like he has a bit of a size kink

He is a pretty tall man after all

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He actually doesnt have all that high of a sex drive, he does get aroused from time to time

Most of the time you’d have to be the one to initiate sex

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Actually very quickly, some days immediately.

Sometimes he manages to power through enough for some light aftercare.

#aries writing #x reader #dr jekyll #dr jekyll x reader #dr jekyll and mr hyde #henry jekyll x reader #henry jekyll #aries ns//fw #gender neutral reader

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years ago

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oh captain ~ jack sparrow;pirates of the caribbean

word count: 2488

request?: yes!

“Can you do a Captain Jack Sparrow smut where the reader has a kink of calling Jack her captain”

description: in which she loves to call him her captain, even in the most intimate of situations

pairing: jack sparrow x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist

It all started as a joke.

I came aboard the Black Pearl in search of my sister, Elizabeth Swann, and her secret lover, Will Turner. It was no secret that they were travelling with notorious Captain Jack Sparrow and, although my parents did not exactly like Will Turner, they had sent me as a way to tell Elizabeth that they were giving her their blessing to marry Will.

Of course, the moment I - a single, young maiden that had often been described as “beautiful” by my suitors - stepped on to the ship, the captain himself couldn’t keep his eyes off of me. There was many a moment in which Elizabeth had to actually tell Jack that he was being too forward or too crass with me. I liked to play along with his games as well and would tease him back. My favorite way of teasing him was to call him “Captain” in a sarcastic manner.

The first time I said it was in response to Jack’s very bossy tone as he told Elizabeth and I to do something. “Oh, of course, Captain.”

I could see a fire light in his eyes even then as he looked at me. “What did you say?”

“Well, you insist that we on the boat here refer to you as your supposed title,” I had told him. “I was just saying it. I thought you would like that.”

“The way you said it,” he pointed out. “It wasn’t very...crewman like.”

“Oh, my apologies, Captain.”

The fire ignited in his eyes again, but he decided to leave it be this time and to go on to yell commands at his other crewmates.

That’s how it all started. It was just a joke, a way to poke fun at Jack without being too harsh. I used the nickname almost every time I saw him, and almost every time I could see a look on his face that was hard to understand.

That was, until I found myself bent over his desk moaning the original teasing nickname repeatedly.

I never expected to find myself falling for Captain Jack Sparrow. Elizabeth had told me many a story about his attempts at courting beautiful maidens, including herself despite her love for Will. The stories led me to believing that Jack was just a man who wanted to use then leave a woman. I wrote him off as nothing more than a scoundrel, a pirate captain. Oh, what a fool I was.

No one on the ship knew of our love affair, especially not Elizabeth. I loved my sister dearly and I knew she would never judge me for who I had fallen in love with, however I also knew she couldn’t keep a secret from our parents for the life of her, and the last thing I needed was to break my parents hearts by telling them that their youngest daughter had fallen in love with a pirate.

That’s why I continued to use the teasing nickname in such fashion in front of my sister, but every time I used it, I could see that spark of desire in Jack’s eyes.

There was one day that we were on course for some sort of treasure that Jack was dying to find.

“It’s been lost for hundreds of years,” he was explaining to Will. Elizabeth and I were trying to help some of the crewmen and overheard the conversation that both men were refusing to tell us. “Wealth and riches beyond your wildest dreams. You could buy over Elizabeth’s parents with that sort of money.”

“I don’t think anything could buy over Elizabeth’s parents at this rate,” Will joked. “But do you really believe it to be truth? I’ve heard it’s nothing but a - ”

“A pirate’s tale,” Jack finished. “A way to lead pirates to their deaths? I’ve heard those stories, too. But there’s only one way to find out.”

“Mad man is going to get us killed,” Elizabeth whispered to me. “He only cares for the riches he may get, he doesn’t think of the countless lives he’s risking.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” I responded. “Anything that will shower him in gold and recognition is his top priority.”

“What are you two talking about down there?” Jack called from his perch at the steering wheel.

Elizabeth and I shared a teasing glance before Elizabeth responded, “Just about how smart you are, my dear captain! This journey can only go right!”

Jack raised an eyebrow at the obvious sarcasm in Elizabeth’s voice before his eyes landed on me.

“We were discussing how much recognition you will get once you find this totally real treasure you’re looking for,” I said. I paused a moment before giving Jack a brief smirk as I added, “Captain.”

He shuffled a little, trying to make his lust seem like he was just annoyed with me and Elizabeth. I couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly at him before turning back to Elizabeth, who was also giggling.

“You both doubt me,” he finally said after a long stretch of silence, “but I’ll show you both, and this whole boat, that I am right and this treasure is real.”

He came down from his perch and walked into the room that was designated as “his office”, his eyes meeting mine for a split moment. “I’m going to study the map for some time, please do not disturb me.”

What he really meant was, No one else come disturb me, I will be fucking (Y/N)’s brains out.

I felt myself becoming tingly between my legs, a regular sensation that Jack was able to get out of me. I tried to keep a light look on my face, but it was hard to do so when all I wanted was to follow him into that room.

“You two should be kinder to him,” Will said, although he, too, was laughing. “He’s been kind enough to let us travel with him.”

“After trying to get under mine and (Y/N)’s skirts for a few months,” Elizabeth added. “He knows that we like him and that we are grateful for him. It’s just so easy to tease him sometimes.”

Tell me about it, I thought to myself.

“Maybe we should leave the captain alone to his mapping for a while,” Will said, wrapping an arm around Elizabeth’s waist. It was his only silent way of asking Elizabeth for what Jack was trying to get from me.

“Perhaps we should,” she responded and gave her husband to be a light kiss on his lips.

The two left without another word to me, which was alright by me. It meant that I didn’t have to make up an excuse as to why I was “disturbing” Jack when he asked me not to.

Once I was sure they were too busy with one another to notice me, I turned and raced for the door. I hastily did mine and Jack’s secret knock before shoving the door open. I was shocked to see that the room before me was empty - the desk where Jack usually sat waiting for me was empty, and there was almost no sight of him at all.

Before I could even consider why this had happened, the door slammed behind me and I felt someone take hold of my throat and shove me against the closed door. Jack’s lips met mine and I felt the familiar explosive feeling I had whenever we kissed. His hands were already roughly pulling at my skirt, trying to pull it up around my hips.

“Someone is impatient,” I breathed against his lips. “You told everyone not to disturb you, remember? You don’t have to be so fast and so rough.”

“But if I take you quickly once, I can take you again before anyone notices that we’re even gone.”

His dirty words ignited a fire in me. I giggled as he picked me up in his arms and laid me down on his desk. The poor thing had seen more of our action than any actual work that Jack had ever done. I was surprised that it was still standing after all this time.

I took hold of the back of Jack’s neck and pulled him in for another kiss. Our lips moved so perfectly with one another as his hands trailed up my bare legs, his cold rings leaving shivers where they trailed. I pulled at his pants, trying desperately to get them off. He chuckled against my lips, the vibrations running through my entire body.

“Who is the impatient one now?” he asked.

“Not like the great Captain to leave a girl waiting in her desire,” I teased, hoping the nickname would be used to my advantage.

Lucky for me, I knew that was the one thing that could break Jack. He roughly pulled at the strings around the back of my dress, causing it to loosen and fall off my body completely. Once my dress was a heap on the floor, Jack pushed me onto the desk so I was laying on my back. I watched as he undid his pants and pulled them down just far enough for his hard member to pop free. Just seeing how hard he was from the little amount of teasing we had been doing was enough to make me start dripping in anticipation.

I gasped as I felt him pushing himself into me. No matter how many times we had sex, I still continued to be shocked by how big he was. He made my eyes roll into the back of my head just by filling me with his hard cock.

His hand found my hair and he roughly pulled me up so my body was pressed against his. “What’s my name, love?”

“Captain,” I breathed, dying to move my hips against his to get some sort of friction between us. But I knew that would only result in him punishing me for being naughty.

My response earned me a few slow thrusts. I bit my lip as to not moan too loud, but it was hard to keep quiet during one of our rendezvous. They were often few and far between, leaving the two of us very pent up and needing of release when the time came.

“Say it again for me my pet,” he purred.

“Captain,” I moaned, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him as closely as I could. “Oh, Captain.”

The grip he had on my hair tightened as he began to thrust into me more, now going at a quicker and more steady pace. I pressed my lips to his to try and muffle my moans, which were now starting to become loud enough for anyone who would be passing by to hear.

I moaned out the name a few more times, which led to me being laid back over the desk yet again with Jack leaning over me, his thrusts so rough now that the desk was being moved. I arched my back against him, trying to get him as far into me as he could go. One of his hands was gripping my thigh while the other was wrapped around my throat, pressing slightly against the sides every now and then, and causing me to feel lightheaded.

Jack was always able to hit a spot in me that made my brain turn to mush and my eyes roll back into my head. I could barley think straight when he was pounding that spot relentlessly inside of me, especially at that moment when the only thing I could feel was waves of pleasure rippling through my body.

I managed to pull my thoughts together enough to utter out a sentence, “I’m so close, Captain.”

“Let me feel you come undone around me, my pet,” he said. I could feel him twitching inside of me, indicating that he was close to finishing himself.

My fingers curled into the desk as I felt myself hitting my climax. My entire body seemed to curl in some way as I felt myself contracting around Jack. His hands slipped under my arched back, pulling my body up to press against him as he did his final thrusts and finished inside of me.

The aftermath of our love making rarely lasted long in fear of being caught. Jack held me for a short amount of time, kissing the top of my head and whispering sweet nothings into my ear, before he finally had to pull away from me and begin to redress himself. I pulled my dress back up.

“You mind tying me back up?” I asked him, turning around to present my still bare back to him.

He laced the strings through their proper holes and tied it tight enough that it would stay up, but not too tight to cause discomfort.

“Do you really think you’ll find that treasure you’re on route for?” I asked him once he was finished. “Do you think it’s real?”

“I choose to believe every treasure is real until proven otherwise,” he responded. “I know everyone on the ship thinks that I’m leading us to our deaths, but I truly believe there is something waiting for us at our destination.”

“Well, if you believe it then I believe you,” I said. “What do you plan on doing with your riches once you get them?”

“I’ll share them amongst the crew,” he started. “There’s supposedly enough to keep a dozen men from having to work for the rest of their lives, and I have just a little over a dozen men on this ship. What I keep for myself I’m going to use to get a better ship. The old Black Pearl is starting to see her end I’m afraid. And, with whatever is left, I intend to buy you a rock so big and so stunning that any royal woman would be jealous of it.”

He lifted my hand to his lips and gave my knuckles a soft kiss.

“You intend to marry me?” I asked him.

“Of course I do. Why do you seem shocked to hear that?”

I chuckled. “Well, the stories I’ve heard about the great Captain Jack Sparrow, none of them made it sound like he would ever settle down with a woman.”

Jack smiled and wrapped his arms around my waist, looking lovingly into my eyes. I could get lost staring into those beautiful eyes of his.

“A man must know when the right woman has come along,” he told me. “Especially a pirate. And the moment you stepped foot on my ship, I knew you were the right woman.”

“You sweet talker,” I said before pressing my lips to his. “When you do get me that ring, just know that I will say yes.”

“Of course, my love. And I cannot wait to have you to sail the seas with for the rest of my life.”

#jack sparrow #jack sparrow imagine #jack sparrow smut #jack sparrow x reader #captain jack sparrow #johnny depp #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp smut #johnny depp x imagine #imagine #one shot #smut #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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ballorawan740 · 3 years ago

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SCP Scenarios: When their kids swear at them (REQUESTED)

Requested by: @Astro_KeySimp

WARNING: Swearing (sorta)

Ok so I kinda made the reader into the child since don't remember if you wanted the reader to be a child or not, so if it wasn't to your liking, then I'm sorry, but I can make a separate version on where the reader isn't the child

It kinda became more of the SCPs and doctors being dads than their reaction to their kids swearing

SCP 073 (Cain)

Cain was walking around with you since you were bored and there wasn't anything to do

Being unaware of what some of the staff were saying, ye went over to grab you some food for later in case you got hungry

Once you both went back, he watched you play with some Legos and was talking as if it was your Lego friends talking to you

Cain looked away for just 10 seconds and heard you shout out "Wow! He said that her baby's such a bi-" which shocked him as he heard it

Cain looked around and made sure that nobody was around the room and was somewhat surprised that you was the one saying this

Being a good dad he is, Cain explained to you carefuly that you shouldn't say that word because it's bad

And being a sweet shy child, you obliged and stopped saying the word

Til this day, Cain had no idea about where and who you've heard the word from and is very much more self-aware

SCP 076-2 (Abel)

Abel is that type of dad who would teach you all the bad words and encourages you to say them

It's the researchers who had to teach you top not to say those words

One time, Dr Glass came in to examine you and had rewarded you as usual since you were so cooperative

You drew a picture of you and Abel talking in a garden with bright coloured flowers

Simon asked if he could see your drawing and saw that the conversation you and your dad had was those of swearing

This surprised Simon since you knew so many at such a young age but wasn't totally shocked since he knew that you were Abel's child

And knowing him, he wouldn't teach you to be nice, so Simon took the job as a mother hen and taught you to not use those words around people

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

Ok, so I'll keep this SCP short since I, again, don't know what I should write for this adorable, squicky, neon-orange, bubby blob

Another SCP who doesn't cuss

This adorable squishy boi here was about to have a heart attack when he heard you swear fir the first time

He had to ask you worryingly where you heard that phrase and you just said some guy wearing a white jacket

999 sighed knowing that you'll grow and couldn't do anything to stop it

He did, however, mention that you should try and avoid saying those things to anyone and that they'd most likely have a heart attack since you were his child and you won the genetic lottery for being the cutest and outgoing child in the world

The only other person who knew of this was Dr Glass (sucks to be him ngl, he do be a mother to everyone) and he had to help poor 999 with teaching you better words

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

YAY! Another SCP who would teach their kid to swear

682 has such a dirty mouth like 076 and would 100% teach you all the words he knows

Similarly to what happened with Abel, you were taken for an interview with Dr Sophia Light since she was assigned to you

She's such a sweet and kind doctor to be around and would teach you anything and everything you would probably need to know all the while keeping an eye on you in case you become overly aggressive like 682

You were just eating some sweets Lights had given you for good behaviour and overheard some researchers swear

Remembering what your dad had taught you, you just repeated those curse words while clapping at your achievement

This had shocked Sophia and that researcher since you were known to be a moderately shy and quiet child who normally wouldn't say those things despite being 682's child

Sophia had to ask if you understood the meaning of those words and shook your head as an indicator for no

She had to carefully find her words and told you to never speak of those words again and took you back to 682's cell

You went and hugged your dad and told him that you learnt from the doctor that those curse words were bad and neither of you should say them

682 had a headache after that

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

I have a hard time thinking that 049 would teach his child to cuss and would avoid swearing in front of them at all cost

Like, he barely swears anyways but he wants to stay classy and sassy for his innocent child

Just like the other day, his kiddo, you, was curious about the whole surgery thingy he does on the dead bodies, so you asked him to teach you and so he did (like the good father we nevah had)

So you learnt some new, yet difficult, words (cuz we all have a nonexistent pea-sized brain) and somehow, you managed to fit in a curse word

This did surprise 049 as he had remembered that he didn't teach you those foul words

He had to give you a talk about using such words and you teared up since you thought that people used them to express their affection to others

Unsurprisingly, 049 took his sweet time looking for the guy who 'taught' you this and wanted to use him as a case study for your future lessons

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

Another parent with such an amazing influence on children

035 would teach and enable you to use swearing as a form of expression

So you were free to say whatever you want as long as they aren't directed to our mask here, especially if it's in a negative way

Otherwise, you'd be punished (No not like that! He'll just ground you from your favourite TV show/movie)

The researchers were surprised, not about you swearing, but how you use them through expression

Except for this poor guy who was new to the foundation and bumped into you by accident

This rookie found himself listening to you cursing like a sailor (maybe not that much but more or less on the same level as Samuel L Jackson)

Word got out and everybody laughed at the poor rookie and told him more about your background and how you love to swear (apparently swearing will prolong your life, so you'll basically be immortal here)

035 was impressed by the whole ordeal and rewarded you with more shows to watch whenever you're both free

SCP 105 (Iris)

Iris would accidentally swear in front of you and whenever she realises it, she would tell you to not swear at people since it wasn't very nice

So she would use words to replace the swearing like "oh fudging hell not now" and "no sugar honey ice tea"

The foundation felt that it was slightly unnecessary but went with it anyways

They'd even go as far as saying that it's ridiculous, but who are they to judge?

Iris was your mother and she's a single mum too, so she felt the need to be overly beating but would occasionally let you decide on your own since you were only 12

The foundation members did tell her that you will eventually grow and more of these words will be used but she just hesitates

As a teen, you did begin to use foul words more often and Iris would argue about how you're using them, especially towards her, your own mother

Needless to say, you both felt bad and made up

SCP 106 (Old Man)

Now this old man right here doesn't exactly speak, or at least very rarely

And if he does, he'll most likely be talking to you or the foundation staff if he needed some help finding you

He'll most likely be able to understand what the researchers are saying, even if they aren't speaking English

My own personal hc is that 106 understands English, German, Spanish, French, Chinese, Arabic and Indonesian and probably many others

Every now and again, somebody would come in and teach you new words and give other lessons like maths and poetry (our favourite)

You came back home to tell him all the things you've learnt as he watched you in awe as he braided your hair

You've even used some new phrases, including swear words while talking and 106 was pretty impressed

I feel that he's quite neutral with swear words since words are words and are used as a form of verbal communication

So I don't think they'll be much change in his behaviour to whether you're swearing or not

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

Now with 096, all he does is scream

So basically, somebody else would have to teach you some words

It's not to say that 096 is a dumb animalistic creature with no soul and just kills people who look at his face

He isn't stupid since he manages to find anyone who looked at his face from the other side of the globe

And he seems to understand what the researchers are saying, or at least on a more intermediate to moderate level

You'll learn about swear words from the other researchers, whether they'll be teaching it to you intentionally or you've overheard them

The foundation could really care less, but would at least prefer that you chill a bit if you got carried away

096 would act all cheery when you learn more new things as it's not like the foundation would let him out anyway, so he'll be living the outside world life from you (How relatable, but more with babysitting and dating, cuz I'm too pretty for anyone to date XD)

Like with 106, I don't think 096 would have any special reaction towards swearing, but would probably be screaming internally for a bit since he knows that it isn't a nice word

Dr Jack bright

This mf right here is one of those parents who would be kind but firm

Bright would most definitely give in to your curiosity and teach you whatever you want to learn but would warn you of the dangers

Depending on what it is, he would even go as far as giving you your own personal guard who would stay with you and train you

And unfortunately, this guard has such a foul mouth, so you're constantly exposed to such words

Luckily for the both of you, Jack Bright doesn't really care about swearing as long as you're not being extremely inappropriate if you were to work

He would even joke around with you sometimes and would even start the conversation with swearing

For instance, he'd just surprise you with a "Yeet his mf outta my sheithole"

And yes, you did laugh at his antics

Some would even say that you're an exact clone of him but more stable (for now)

Well, Bright is an amazing dad, but I'd say just below Dr Glass

Or maybe even on par with him

Like Bright is a goofy dad that has all the terrible dad jokes and Glass would be the type of dad to look out for his kid

Dr Simon Glass

Dr Glass would most definitely avoid using swear words, especially if you were under 15

Even if you were over 15, he'd still avoid swearing unless he wants to make a joke or 2

So most of the time, you'd learn all the swearing from other people and SCPs

Sometimes you would swear by accident and Glass would just look at you, slightly disappointed

I'd say he doesn't exactly care about you swearing per see, but would rather you avoid it

It's cuz Simon is the best dad a dad could ever dad and nobody could prove me wrong here

He's also one of the top best dads compared to the others on the list

He's basically your best friend so he'd let you vent and its the 1 time he'd let you swear to show your emotions

Simon would 100% know your thoughts and behaviour

He's just that good at reading people, especially you - almost to the point where people would say he's an SCP cuz I swear he's just empathic and telepathic

As mentioned before, Glass would be the type of dad to care for your mental health

It's not that the others don't, it's just that Glass is a top their God of Psychology and would come to you before you even know you have depression

He would even crack a joke sometimes

So every so often, he would shout out "LANGUAGE!!!" from across the room before you could even bat an eye and say anything

Dr Alto Clef

Another top tier dad, but swearing addition

Your godfather would literally be Jack Bright

Then it's Kondraki and Glass

He would let you swear on a daily basis and would join you

Sometimes you be looking at your Oppas/Noonas and be like: "Oh fxxk me!" and Clef, who's in the next room, be like: "Yeah, fxxk me too!" (Yes but no sis! No incest pls!)

Other times, you would be in the same room as Clef and Bright and you'd join them in being chaotic

And poor Kondraki is just there at the back trying to do his work peacefully

One time, Kondraki had to grab a Simon Glass to help stop the chaotic trio

And OML did it end so well

You were easy to manage tbh, with the exception of you swearing

Clef and Bright would most definitely encourage you to swear more

Especially Clef since he does have a twisted sense of humour

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

Kondraki is totally the type of person who would tell their kid to mind their own language

But he secretly doesn't care and his child knows it

His style of parenting is similar to Simon's

And yes, Simon is your #1 godfather/uncle

You'd go to him for emotional support since Kondraki sucks at that

Sometimes you'd swear at him and he'd get mad though

So yeah, running to Glass is a wonderful idea

And we all know that Kondraki doesn't mean what he said

He's just extremely introverted, but he's rather sensible - Usually...

Anyways, he would ask Simon on tips and advice on how to get you to stop swearing so much and he just gave Benjamin a parenting book (Like fr guys, let Glass have some rest, he's tired of babysitting over 100 dozens of pets in the zoo and all the other babies who work in it)

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fireworkss-exe · 2 years ago

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this au is for @audrey-simps-for-seymour !!

During the total eclipse of the sun, Audrey is cleaning up at Mushnik's when she notices a strange plant appear- it looks more like a rose, but still similar to how "our" Twoey looks like

Since Seymour is out, Audrey goes to Mr. Mushnik first about the mysterious plant she found. Mr. Mushnik is initially skeptical and believes it's just something that Seymour forgot to bring inside, but upon further investigation, Mr. Mushnik realizes how odd the plant looks and decides to tell Seymour about it

When Seymour gets back from the wholesale flower district, Audrey shows him the plant she found. Seymour wants to study it, but Audrey politely declines, telling him she thinks the plant was destined to come her way

Audrey names the plant "Miriam" after her late mother. When Audrey takes the plant home, she accidentally pricks one of her fingers on its unusually sharp thorns, and the plant seemingly soaks up Audrey's blood. Horrified but pitying the plant (in its early stages, it acts something like a cat), Audrey decides to continue feeding it. She doesn't tell Seymour because she doesn't want him to worry for her. Audrey ends up storing Miriam in a large closet and only goes in to feed the plant- or talk to it, since she feels like it's the only being who she can vent to about Orin's abuse

Seymour's arc goes as it usually does. Meanwhile, Audrey is enduring two drains on her wellbeing- Miriam's appetite and Orin's physical and mental abuse. Audrey starts getting sicker and sicker, but is unable to get any medical care due to A. her fear that Orin will punish her for revealing his abuse, and B. the fact that she can't afford medical care at all

Eventually, Miriam grows to quite a large size, and starts to speak to Audrey, demanding more food (just like in "Feed Me,"). This occurs after Audrey has just come home from a particularly traumatizing night with Orin, so Miriam believes it's easier to manipulate her. Audrey ultimately agrees to kill Orin, but she puts up a bigger fight than Seymour did in "Feed Me"

In the script for LSOH, it describes Twoey's voice as "a cross between Otis Redding, Barry White, and Wolfman Jack." I feel like Miriam would sound something like Eartha Kitt

Audrey is able to kill Orin by slipping sedatives into the scotch he's drinking on one of their dates. The medicine starts to act just as soon as he takes her to her house, and she bludgeons him to death with a piece of metal pipe she has

This is happening around the same time Seymour would've been looking for Orin, so Seymour flies into a panic, fearing he won't be able to feed Twoey

Audrey uses the lot behind Mushnik's to chop up Orin's body, but when Mr. Mushnik walks by, he thinks it's Seymour because Audrey was "too sweet and kind" to do such a thing (and because it was really really dark in the lot)

"Call Back In the Morning- Suppertime" plays out as usual, but Seymour is panicking over Orin's disappearance because he didn't have the motivation to kill anyone else other than Orin. Seymour suspects the Mafia took Orin out, and doesn't believe Audrey could've done anything due to her extremely weak state

Soon, Miriam grows too big for the closet it's stored in, and pulls itself out into Audrey's living room. It demands more and more, and Audrey, traumatized over the literal murder she's committed, decides to head to Mushnik's to investigate if Twoey is just as bloodthirsty as Miriam. Audrey worries that Seymour's undergoing a similar situation, but she can't find him anywhere

Twoey, who's only eaten Mushnik at this point, starts intimidating Audrey like in "Suppertime (Reprise)", but Audrey's having none of it. She starts to attack Twoey with the same axe she used to dismember Orin, but Twoey's bigger and stronger and disarms her. Audrey gives up out of exhaustion and lets Twoey eat her, believing she deserves it for murdering Orin. Seymour comes in at the last second, but, just like in the original story, Audrey is mortally wounded and can't be saved

In her dying moments, Audrey doesn't tell Seymour to feed her to the plant- she confesses to the murder of Orin and tells Seymour that Miriam was putting her through something very similar to what Twoey was doing. The rest of the show plays out as usual, but with two very large man-eating plants on the loose, it doesn't seem like humanity has a chance at all…

#lsoh #little shop of horrors #lsoh au #little shop of horrors au #tw death #death tw #abuse tw #tw abuse #tw misogyny #misogyny tw

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aio-rya · 4 years ago

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Red Panda Headcanons

GN!Reader x Character

「Requested by: @kih-lux」

A/N: Kih~ you gave me the option and this was more focused to be a Male Reader but... It ended being more a Gender Neutral, I guess... I'll keep practicing.

・Floyd, Jade and Azul are ocean creatures, they know about hybrids and people like Ruggie, Leona and Jack, though they are aware there are other species, some of them are so rare and so unique it's far too difficult to have a chance of running into one of them. And, guess what? Yes, you were part of that category.

・"I've never seen one of your kind, why? Are you so rare? Are you from a far land? Wait, maybe you are... An endangered specie?". Be patient with the tweel, he has too many questions since his research hasn't been so long; you'll be pleased of helping him with that.

・Well, this couldn't result as you originally planned since Jade himself determined you were in nice shape, your body was as expected from a being half beast, half human. So, he decided you will be helping him on the Lounge too! So you could spend more time together, talking about you while working. Plus, he thought the contrast between your brune ears and tail made a nice contrast with the grey suit of Octavinelle.

・The curiosity soon transformed into interest, he started hanging out with you and even asked you to join his club! In fact, he thought you could enjoy it since your specie's homeland is a forest; you could help him learn from places he has never been before, though he would love to know if you remembered any sort of fungi of your homeland.

・Jade will be always respectful, asking before acting, having a special attraction for your tail and ears. He has seen things like those before, with Savanaclaw's dorm members, but you were specially cute for him. Since you had a special moment when you purred —because, yes, pandas actually purr.

・He loves the comparison you do about him being a bambu stick. His height is a bit far than yours so, when you hug him and tangle your tail on his legs it looks as if you were a red panda holding a bambu stick even though red pandas don't do that often.

・The Tweels are not used to cold, they prefer to stay on earth at winter, but that will not stop him from being warm with you. He loves your fur because of that, specially when you have sleepovers and you roll your tail against him to keep him warm.

・"What do we have here? A teddy bear?"; he will ask, mocking of you, looking at the cute red fur of your ears, caught by the white line on the side of them. You'd smile mischievously, sighing, not letting his height or his deep voice intimidate you, slowly approaching a couple of steps —instead of answering his provocation, you'll lift a hand, almost at the height of his face. "Ho... This herbivore has guts."

・"I'm no herbivore... Not at all", you'll answer, defending yourself as you show your retractile long, pointy claws to him. You'd swear everything you saw in his eyes at the moment was fear on its pure form, specially since you made this actually at his eyes' height. You'd dare to say you broke him but it'd be more accurate to tell you actually gained his respect.

・Well, your peculiar first meeting was just the beginning of what somehow became a love-hate friendship. Since he was the captain of your club and you shared more unexpected encounters than you'd have thought, you grew fond of each other; soon, going from one place to another together.

・Leona would question you a lot about your specie; he's used to carnivorous wild animals like Ruggie, like him or some cheetah or tiger hybrids, but you were a bit different. And even after you already explained him your situation, he would still mess around, giving you bambú sticks for snack between classes, just because he loves your upset expression and the way you wave your tail furiously and move your ears to the sides.

・You got to trust each other so far Leona sometimes dishevelled the fur of your cylindrical, thick tail; he was lot curious about it since it was far shorter than his very own. That meant, of course, you delighted yourself with payback; sometimes braiding the tip of his tail, or tangling his tie on a ribbon on it.

・Since you were both half animal, you knew exactly which points he'd like to be touched on. That was, somehow, cheating; specially when you found him angry and tried to make him relax, words wouldn't work so you'd stand behind him and caress his ears —of course you made him purr, you always do. That, suddenly, became an intimate thing only of you both.

・There's something Leona loves doing and not necessarily to bother you: paw your ears. For him, those are like marshmallows, the red fluff, more rigid and smaller than his own. He just melt for touching them, specially when you fall asleep because, yeah, pandas sleep as much as the Prince of Afterglow Savannah.

・He could not hide his surprise when he realised you were not completely human, you immediately caught his attention; furthermore, you were not a common specie, he deduced so by your smell. "Well, well... What do we have here? You look like Kingscholar but quite... Hm. Completely different."

・Malleus would come back to you often, some nights when he was trying to scape from his guards. But he will not arrive just like it; he will try to find some facts about you, ask you the less possible and make research by his own to know what you were, how to treat you? Until you became of more interest for him than your specie.

・Soon he discovered by your stories that you were alone too, still you had a family but your own specie was not very common, you made friends with another kind of hal-beasts and another species of pandas. That only made him to get attached to you, someone who could understand him!

・He got to hang out with you almost every night, reaching the point where he would go and look for you to your classrooms. Malleus thought at first you started fearing him too by the twitching of your ears, soon realising you just... Softened. The way you flattened your ears was signal of trust, you actually felt comfortable around him —you made the Heir of the Valley happy.

・As time passed by, you earned an inconditionnel friend, he would talk to you about almost anything you wanted to know while, in exchange, you taught him about your world, the "human" world. Soon, that became more physical, and now he pawed your ears when you leaned on his shoulder to listen at him and his tales.

・There were nights when he would take you to the castle's roof to talk more privately, or just to see the moon and the forest along the village in the distance. And many of those nights, you'd fall asleep, curled up against his legs with your tail swinging peacefully or just laying over your legs or hips; he would try to caress it, obviously not waking you up and, if you ever did, he will just blush and look away.

・You had your own tricks, sometimes when you went for a walk on the little forest around the castle, you climbed threes and hanged upside down trying to surprise him. Well... You even touched his horns. At first you were worried about him being mad but his laughter broke the tension on your shoulders. But of course, you had a tail and ears, so his payback was inevitable.

・"I have never seen someone liketh thee...", you heard the intrigue on his voice. He floated around you, upside down, analysing the visible characteristics that made you half an animal. When Lilia is curious, he's not very measured with his actions... Yeah, that means he will touch your fur.

・He'd love to study your reactions to many stimulus, so he will tease you in ways you can and cannot expect. Though you started being prepared, or at least a bit, you'd never anticipate when was he going to appear. You were basically on guard every time you were on the library or in the hallways until the final day came and he told you how interesting you were to him.

・You tried to do the same on him but the movement of your tail or even sometimes your little furry ears twitching will alert him of your presence. Since then, you both became almost inseparable; people could se him flying around you, upside down or just playfully, other times you just got to sit aside him but there were always laughter and smiles.

・Oh, true! He basically transformed you into a nocturnal creature. Once he introduced you into video-game's world, you started spending more time together, another fact reassuring him you were a panda: sleeping a lot on the evening, when classes or clubs were not taking place, and enjoying the night along him.

・That of course meant he must protect your ears from Sebek. His very own audition was sensible enough to be disturbed by the demi-fae loudness, but he was worried about you: since he knew you were a red panda and discovered pandas had developed very, very, very sensible ears due to not wanting to be hunted by predators, he would avoid having you and Sebek on the same room for too long.

・His protective instincts made their appearance. You seemed like a tender and lovely being for him, that was the reason why Lilia was concerned about you: even though you were half a human, most of your habits were of your animal part. He knew when you were sleepy and you tried to pretend you were not just to stay with him for a while, playing. He will, surprisingly, sing you a lullaby to make you sleep while he played one last round; keeping an eye on you, the way you curled up, the way your ears twitched.

・The way you met was... Amusing. Well, you see, one of your favourite spots for napping was the forest, the place where he usually made his patrols. Since his narcolepsy is always present, he tends to fall asleep in situations like this, what happened that day: he fell under your three and once you woke up together, you both got scared as hell.

・He started questioning you; why were you there? What were you doing? Who where you? You answered calmly, trying to calm him down since he was actually pointing at you with the sword. When he finished and put the blade down, you asked for him to answer the same question. And once you were aware of his condition, you understand everything and both bursted in laughter.

・There were to many incidental encounters with each other you ended up being friends. Sometimes you even went and looked for him deep in the forest, when you found him asleep you'll just sit by his side and read a book or play a bit with the animals surrounding him, usually birds. You cannot understand them, but when he woke up, he will always act as a translator for you.

・He had the opportunity of finding you asleep on the branch of a three or behind a rock, one of those times, curiosity took over him and he couldn't help but start petting you. Starting for your ears and your hair, getting startled when he heard you purring under his hand.

・Most of the time you surprised him at his night patrol, it was cold outside often, so you made a scarf for him. It matched with your tail and it was thick and furry too; your heart almost fell from your chest when you saw the happiness in his eyes. Now, when you were nap buddies, he will take it with him.

・He wanted to teach you something about him too so he used your free time to teach you fencing. Yes, he would usually bring another sword to the forest so you could kill time whenever you were not sleeping, reading or he was not on guard.

・Even Lilia cooked sometimes for Silver, he was aware of your existence. He was happy though about his little boy having a new friend... Well, deep inside himself, he was happy, just awaiting for Silver to know how love felt —in fact, he just wanted his child to go asking for advice.

#ツイステ #ツイステッドフンダラーンド #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #twst jade #leona kingscholar #twst leona #malleus draconia #twst malleus #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #twst silver #twisted wonderland silver #twst headcanons

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refinedbuffoonery · 3 years ago

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Looking Through A Window (7)

macriley married undercover au

masterlist.

Sorry for the delay! I either have my shit together in real life or fandom life, but never both at the same time lol. Anyway, I got endless joy from reading all your reactions to last chapter’s clifhanger (sorry not sorry). I didn’t respond to comments because I don’t trust myself not to spoil anything, but just know that I appreciate every single one of your theories. Also, many of you were at least somewhat correct. (Yikes am I becoming predictable?? Gotta fix that.) This chapter ends at a good stopping point, so I’m going to switch gears and write a couple chapters of other fics (which I encourage you to read!!) before coming back to this. But fear not! I have big plans for the future of this fic, and I’ll send you all down the theory rabbit hole soon enough. xoxo

*****

The world narrows until Mac is only aware of two things: his racing heart and the fact that Riley is gone.

The blood is fresh, but there’s no sign of a struggle—no sign of anything, really. The windows are locked and unbroken, the bedroom door is half-closed the way it always is. Not a single thing is out of place…except for Riley.

So, where the hell is she?

His body goes taut as the worst case scenario plays in his mind. Please don’t be gone, Mac silently begs. Please.

The apartment is quiet. Too quiet. So when the shower turns on with a loud thunk, Mac flinches. Hard. Without thinking, he scrambles out of bed and lunges for the bathroom door.

As he bursts through the door, Mac’s awareness shifts to three things: Riley is alive, she’s naked, and she’s screaming.

“Mac!” She hisses, glaring over her shoulder. If looks could kill, he’d be very, very dead by now. At least her back is to him. “What the hell?”

Mac barely hears her over the roaring in his ears. He scans her naked body, trying and failing to be professional as he scans for injuries.

His eyes land on the blood smeared between her thighs, then the thin stream rolling down the inside of her knee. As understanding dawns on him, Mac holds out his own blood-covered hand in silent explanation.

Riley winces. “Sorry about the blood.”

Mac still feels a little disconnected from his body when he says, “I was afraid you were dead.”

Embarrassment floods Riley’s face. She begs,“Can we please finish this conversation when I’m not naked and bleeding all over the floor?” Mac’s gaze automatically flicks to the drops of blood between her feet, but he doesn’t move. His limbs are still frozen in place, the way they’ve been since he found her. “Get out!” Riley snaps.

His own embarrassment finally taking hold, Mac stumbles backward, tripping over the door frame on his way out.

While Riley showers, Mac busies himself by stripping the bed and washing the sheets and blankets. Not just because it needs to be done, but because it’s easier to process emotions when his hands are busy. It feels like he just experienced the entire spectrum of human emotion in the span of three minutes, and now all these untethered feelings are floating around in his head. As he works, Mac examines them one by one.

He woke up this morning wanting to cuddle with Riley. Not just wanting to, but comfortable enough to act on that desire.

When his hand landed in the blood, his brain immediately jumped to the worst case scenario. He is deeply afraid of said scenario.

Then panic set in, as he desperately tried to prove himself wrong.

Followed by relief at finding Riley and learning the blood was not from an injury, but from a normal bodily function.

Then embarrassment, because he freaked out and barged in on her over something he could’ve deduced for himself if only he’d just stopped to think. He’s supposed to be smart, so why couldn’t that big brain of his, as Jack would say, figure this out?

The answer to that question, at least, comes easily: Because it’s Riley, and he doesn’t always think with his head when it comes to her.

For example, while he’s mortified at seeing her naked, a part of him wishes she’d been facing the other direction.

Mac starts the washing machine and decides to do the mature thing and hide in the kitchen for the entire foreseeable future. He spies Harley lying on the couch, gazing out a window. “And where were you for all of this?” he asks. “A heads-up would’ve been nice.”

Harley stares at him for a few seconds before resuming her vigil, and Mac hears the message, loud and clear: You’re on your own.

When Riley still hasn’t emerged from the bedroom long after the shower turned off, Mac suspects that she’s hiding too. He doesn’t blame her.

It’s late morning by the time the laundry is finished, and Mac can’t hide any longer. Clutching the still-warm sheets and blankets to his chest, he cautiously ventures into the bedroom. Riley is lying on the bed with her knees tucked up to her chin, and a pang of sympathy echoes in Mac’s chest. Her eyes are closed, but Mac doubts that she’s actually asleep.

Dropping the sheets on the floor, he asks, “Are you alive?”

Riley groans. “No.”

“Could you please go die on the couch then, so I can make the bed?” She groans again and mumbles something incoherent. “Also you’ll feel better if you eat something.”

“No I won’t.” She sounds like a whining toddler, and Mac has to stifle a snort. Still, a bit of the awkwardness dissipates. But only a bit.

“Yes you will. I know you, Miss Hangry.”

“I’m not hangry.”

“Says the one who skipped breakfast.”

“I was hiding from you.”

“So was I,” Mac confesses. Riley cracks a single eye open at that, just in time to see his cheeks heat. “Trust me, I am way more embarrassed than you.”

It takes him a second to notice that she’s blushing too. “Wanna bet?”

Mac starts putting the fitted sheet on the unoccupied side of the mattress. “I didn’t see anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Nothing he hasn’t seen before, anyway, but Mac wisely decides to keep that part to himself. “Victoria’s secret is still a secret,” he adds with a wink.

Riley rolls her eyes. “You did not just say that.”

“Made you laugh, didn’t it?” Mac gives her a shit-eating grin, and despite her best attempt at hiding it, amusement slips through the cracks in Riley’s unimpressed facade.

“Whatever. We don’t have to do anything today, do we?” Mac raises his brow at the question. For all the years he’s known Riley, she’s always been more of a ‘suck it up’ kind of person, not a ‘stay in bed’ person. So her question is surprising, if not mildly concerning.

“Nope.” He pauses. “Are you okay? This isn’t like you.”

Riley rolls onto her back. “Dude, it feels like someone took a cheese grater to my insides.”

Mac winces at the mental image. “Ouch.”

She pauses, as if contemplating her next words before she says them. “I got a new IUD a couple months ago, and this one makes my cramps way worse. I used to be able to ignore them, but this sucks.”

Not knowing how to reply to that, he squeezes Riley’s ankle in a way he hopes is reassuring. Mac flicks his gaze up to meet hers and finds Riley already looking at him. Her gaze is warm and steady, but Mac can see hints of pain clouding her dark eyes. He thinks it isn’t fair that her body turns on her like this.

"I'm getting back in bed the second you're done making it," she warns.

"Go right ahead."

Riley wanders into the kitchen, and, true to her word, reappears right when Mac finishes smoothing down the comforter, with Harley at her heels. To Mac's surprise, Harley jumps on the bed, waits for Riley to get situated, and then tucks herself into Riley's side. A smile blooms on his face. Riley puts an arm around Harley, pulling the dog into her stomach before moving to scratch her head. When Harley licks Riley’s face in return, Mac suddenly gets the feeling he's watching something private.

Satisfied that Riley is in capable hands, Mac leaves without another word.

*****

Beneath the weathered wooden conference table, Harley’s head rests on Mac’s foot as she dozes through the Patriots’ council meeting. When they arrived, no one looked more put off by their presence than Conrad, but, true to his word, Ethan welcomed Mac and Riley with open arms and encouraged their participation. A murmur of dissent snaked through the room, but no one openly questioned Ethan’s decision to include them.

Twenty minutes in, Mac would rather be anywhere but here. The “meeting” so far has been very little business and mostly rehashing some fishing trip a few of the guys went on over the weekend. Mac is holding out hope that it won’t be a complete waste of his time, but said hope dwindles each time someone exaggerates about the size of a fish.

There’s nothing interesting to look at in the room, save for Riley. No art, no plants, no wall of guns. Not even a clock. Just drab gray walls with no windows. And he doesn’t dare study any of the men for longer than a second or two each. Making an enemy is as easy as looking at someone the wrong way, and Mac has no desire to antagonize the other members of the Patriots…at least not yet.

Extricating his foot from beneath Harley’s head, he’s just about to make an excuse about needing to use the restroom when Ethan’s phone rings. After quickly checking it, Ethan excuses himself from the meeting with a curt nod to Conrad. Mac understands the look; he’s given and received it countless times himself, after all. Permission to continue without him. Because despite his tendency to toe the line, Conrad is still Ethan’s trusted lieutenant. The exchange is subtle, practiced, and apparently insignificant to the other men at the table, who are somehow still talking about fish.

When the storytelling finally lulls, Conrad clears his throat. "Let's start with recruitment. Report." No nonsense, right to the point. Maybe he’s tired of the fish conversation too.

As Conrad steers the conversation through the various items on the agenda, Mac realizes two things.

One, the Patriots are far more organized than he originally made them out to be. This is no grassroots startup, and their plans go much deeper than protests and parking lot shootings.

Two, Conrad is careful not to let anyone share too much information, instead asking everyone to give their detailed reports in individual meetings. And it's more than just trying to keep him and Riley in the dark. It's almost as if…almost as if Conrad doesn't want anyone to see the big picture besides himself.

Mac decides to take his theory for a test drive. "I know I'm new here," he says, "but why have everyone meet with you a second time individually instead of sharing their full reports now? Wouldn't that be a better use of time?"

Conrad sneers. "On the contrary, boy, why would I waste everyone's time making them listen to information they don't need to know?"

It takes every ounce of Mac’s self control not to roll his eyes.

Beneath the table, Riley grips his knee, nails digging in through his khakis. Mac wants to tell her that he’s thinking the same thing she is, but he can’t. The best he can settle for is a brief touch on her arm before needing to do something with his hands to distract himself from the way his skin burns under her touch. He elects to drum his fingers on the table, mostly to push Conrad’s buttons even further.

If Conrad’s furrowed brow is any indication, it works.

“Do you mind?” Conrad says with a pointed glare at Mac’s hand.

Feigning ignorance, Mac replies, “Mind about what?”

“The tapping.”

“Oh!” Mac makes a show of sliding his gaze down to his hand before flattening his palm against the table. “My bad.”

Looking none too pleased, Conrad moves on, but to Mac’s surprise, the man sitting beside him leans in to whisper, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He's not the one to piss off." His words are tinged with genuine concern, and under different circumstances, Mac would appreciate the advice.

"He's a man," Mac whispers back, "just like everyone else at this table." Minus Riley, of course.

The man presses on. "The previous occupant of your seat was shot point blank for asking too many questions." Mac's brows raise at that. "You're sitting in a dead man's chair."

Mac pockets that little detail gratefully, but he hesitates before ultimately heeding the man's warning. He fiddles with the button on his sleeve, impatiently waiting for the meeting to end so he can share his theory with Riley.

What Mac doesn't anticipate is Riley beating him to it, pulling him aside before they're even back in the car. "Conrad's compartmentalizing information," she says in a quiet, confident tone.

They’re too exposed to be having this conversation. Mac nervously checks for eavesdroppers, but doesn’t spot any. Deeming it safe for now, he replies, "Yeah I thought so too."

"He's made himself essential. No one else knows how everything works." Riley pauses, eyes catching on something over his shoulder. Barely audibly, she adds, "An asshole and a control freak." He doesn’t need to turn around to know she’s looking at Conrad, not when she has a white-knuckled grip on Harley’s leash.

"So if we eliminate him…"

Riley nods in understanding. He’s controlling everything in an attempt to rise through the rankings and seize power. So if they eliminate Conrad, the whole organization may very well come tumbling down in his wake.

Now they just have to figure out how the hell to accomplish that.

"What if we help him?" Riley suggests, reading Mac’s mind.

"What?"

"We've spent all this time looking for the weakest link, but maybe…maybe we need to attach ourselves to the strongest one." A stray curl falls in Riley's face, and as she brushes it behind her ear, Mac absentmindedly wishes his fingers were brushing it back instead. Riley continues, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think we should help him become more powerful than he already is. That way, we can do as much damage as possible when we take him out."

A man they don't know walks by, and Mac nods in greeting. Waiting for the man to move out of earshot, Mac drops to one knee, giving Harley a good scratch. She wags her tail and opens her mouth in a smile, clearly enjoying the attention. When the coast is clear again, Mac says, "You just made this op so much longer, but I think you're right."

Riley snorts. "What, is there somewhere else you need to be?"

Gazing up at the woman before him, the answer is obvious. Not unless you're coming with me.

*****

In the gray hour before dawn crests over the world, Mac wakes to something tickling his nose. He exhales sharply, trying to blow it away, but the tickle persists.

His face is pressed into the nape of Riley's neck, and a deep inhale causes a few strands of her hair to go up his nostrils. Reaching up to brush Riley’s hair out of his face, he hesitates right before his calloused fingers brush her skin, afraid that even the barest touch will shatter the moment. As soon as Riley wakes, he'll have to hide behind his mask of indifference, and Mac isn't ready to do that yet.

For as long as he dares, Mac allows himself to imagine what it would be like to wake up with Riley for real, in his own home. He sees her curled in his bed, sheets pulled up to her chin, hears the soft, steady cadence of her breathing, smells the lingering traces of perfume on her skin.

Riley stirs in his arms, and the vision blurs, moving out of reach. Mac grasps for it, but it evaporates into nothingness as she settles back against him.

He shifts his focus to the very real sensation of Riley’s body tucked into his. Her back to his chest, his leg slotted between hers, her ass pressed against his—

Shit.

Mac jerks backward, trying to put as much space between them as possible before Riley wakes and realizes just what she scooted back against.

Except, in his haste, Mac doesn’t realize there’s a third party present until his foot slams into the small, warm body lying at the foot of the bed. Guilt washes over him at Harley’s ensuing yelp.

Awake, Riley mumbles, “Did you just kick the dog?”

“It was an accident!” Mac insists, sitting up. He turns his attention to Harley. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You can come back if you want.” He pats the bed in a way he hopes is reassuring, but Harley merely eyes him with suspicion before slinking out of the room.

“I can’t believe you kicked the dog,” Riley says, still half-asleep. “She finally slept with us, and you betrayed her.”

“I told you it was an accident!”

“Betrayal.”

Mac rakes a hand through his hair. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.” Riley sighs, rolling back to her side of the bed, and Mac isn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Or maybe a little bit of both. “You better go apologize.”

Mac scoffs. “And let you take over the entire bed while I’m gone? I don’t think so.”

And there it is. The closest they’ve come to acknowledging the evolution of their bed-sharing habits. Particularly the newfound lack of sticking to their respective sides. If he’s being honest with himself, Mac doesn’t know where to go from here. He wants to see it as a sign of things changing between them. Obviously Riley is aware of their precarious positioning, but based on her casual relocation, she doesn’t see this any differently than the dozens of times they’ve slept squished in a small space together in the past. Whether she’s aware of the other thing, she doesn’t let on.

“Your funeral,” Riley says, pulling Mac out of his head.

Right.

The dog.

The dog whose forgiveness he needs to earn via extra breakfast. Maybe extra dinner too.

Sighing, Mac goes after her, cursing his inability to get things right with either of the females in this house.

~ Tag List ~ Want to be added? Send me an ask.

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#beth writes #looking through a window au #macgyver #macriley #angus macgyver #riley davis

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remmushound · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! I have another request. Could you do a story where 2012 Donnie decides to use the Rise!Turtles' weapons for a test drive without their permission? I imagine 2012 Donnie trying to figure what kind of materials it has in order to create the mystic weapons and testing it out. But then things goes wrong and he attempted to fix it but can't. Bet the Rise!Turtles won't be so happy at Rise!Donnie's counterpart for taking their weapons without their permission.

@assanmaharielsreblogs

He had to get a better look at them. I mean, when else was he gonna get a chance like this one? In his world there was no magic— there was tech far behind his understanding, sure, but that was still tech. Tech that someone engineered, using their own knowledge, for a specific purpose. But here? It was all over the place! Just one patrol using Donatello’s goggles had keyed him into hundreds of mystical hotspots all around the city! He had seen their weapons in action, but he needed to see them closely— in controlled settings under a microscope! To see the inner workings and try to replicate them! If he could get his hands on that kinda tech, then he and his brothers would be unstoppable! And these guys were just using them like toys! Well, not on Donnie’s watch!

Michelangelo’s kusari-fundo had been a difficult thing to snatch. The box turtle was sleeping with the thing on his bed, hugging the weapon like it were a toy. If Donnie hadn’t known better, he’d have said the blades looked almost soft. Michelangelo snored just like Donnie’s Mikey did, tucked under a soft, fluffy comforter and dressed in an orange unicorn onesie. Mikey shared the bed with him (as did Leonardo with Leo and Raphael with Raph), but the older box turtle was sleeping like a rock.

Donnie carefully pried the tool from Michelangelo’s grip with the skill and delicate touch of a true ninja, quickly replacing it with a stuffed animal. Michelangelo gave a soft groan at the disturbance, but quickly hugged the toy as he settled once more. Donnie grinned and looked at the weapon in his hand. Staring into the slick, painted surface, Donnie almost thought he saw an eye staring back at him. He quickly shook his head, looked back, and the eye was gone. Just his mind playing a trick. Leonardo was next.

******

“What are you doing?”

Donnie almost screamed. “Wha— what are you doing awake?!”

Leonardo crossed his arms and glared, his face remarkably bare without his mask and only slightly stifled by a blue nightcap.

“I’m a ninja with crippling insomniac tendencies— sue me.” Leonardo said calmly. “What are you doing with my sword?”

“Uh.” Donnie glanced between Leonardo and the katana he was holding, “nothing?”

“Nothing?” Leonardo scrutinized with a piercing gaze that seemed to call Donnie out in his lie

Donnie hesitated, then sighed. He gave a light laugh and ran his hand across his head. “S-sorry! Just panicked. Other Donnie wants to uh. See if he can use some of the mystic energy from your katana to reverse-engineer a rift for us to get home— me and my brothers, I mean.”

“Ooookay.” Leonardo’s eyes betrayed his distrust, but he didn’t say a word against it, “just ask next time, okay?”

“Yeah. Will do.”

********

Getting the Tonfa from Raphael was nerve wracking. Access to Donatello’s staff was easy— Donnie already had permission to examine and admire its inner workings, so his touch was programmed into the systems anti-theft database as a non-threat. Michelangelo’s kusari-fundo required stealth, sure, and Leonardo’s sword required cunning, but this? This required him escaping with the Tonfa and from the crushing bite of a genetic predator. No matter how calm and content he acted while awake, after that first night’s run-in with savage Raph, Donnie was more than cautious to avoid another similar outburst. Lucky for him, the Tonfa were hung up at a safe distance from the snapper on the wall, and Raphael’s snoring drowned out any noise he might have made.

And just like that, Donnie had everything he needed for a test run. Of course, he was far more skilled with the familiar bō staff than with any of the other weapons (past experience had taught him just how difficult learning a new weapon could be, nevertheless mystic ones), so naturally Donatello’s bō was the first one to try out. Though it itself wasn’t of mystic origin, Donatello had stated many times of the mystic enhancements that made the weapon flourish from a simple multi-tool to what could classify as a weapon of mass destruction.

“Okay...” the staff, despite its greater size to the one he was used to, was surprisingly light in comparison. A quick weigh-in brought it to only fifteen pounds which, given the amount of tech it carried, was an incredible feat. Just how his younger counterpart could manage such a thing seemed almost impossible to the older Donnie’s mind, but that only served to scratch his curiosity even more! There were so many buttons on the shaft he didn’t even know where to start...

He went for the biggest button first out of pure, childish curiosity. This curiosity led to the worse possible outcome as the end of the bō furrowed out and turned into a compact rocket, which turned sideways on itself and shot out sparks of power. Donnie tried to catch himself, but it was too late. Already the power of the launcher dragged him off his feet and forced his unprepared body into a spin. It took his mind a few seconds to catch up with his body and press the same button to withdraw the blaster.

“Note to self... big button bad. Shoulda known that.”

From them on, he was much more careful with his examine. Every press of a button was met with a brace-for-impact in case a similar issue occurred, but he thankfully avoided such an outcome. One button shot a burst of electricity out the opposite side of the bō from where the blaster was, while another button shot two reinforced wings out either side to form a glider. Another button produced a blade on either side of the staff, and another revealed a compartment filled with gauze and alcohol thread and a needle safely tucked into a surgical pouch— an emergency kit, he supposed. He remembered Donatello also having a much bigger one in his battle shell, so this turtle obviously came prepared. Another compartment had a pair of glasses and a bottle of ibuprofen.

“Wow. No such thing as traveling light, I guess.”

He put the bō staff safely to the side before grabbing the Tonfa next. He placed both Tonfa on the table and the first thing he did was examine one of them under the microscope. It was nothing special— just redwood, as far as he could see— albeit old enough to date back to ancient Japan and perhaps even further. Then he put on Donatello’s goggles and looked at the Tonfa through the lenses, which opened up a whole new world of beauty to the normal-looking weapons.

The Tonfa lit up an impossible red, and on the screen appeared the word Muladhara. The red chakra— the root chakra as Donnie knew it best, represented by a red lotus with four petals. Vitality and strength. Instinctual tendencies and the densest of all seven chakras. The more his mind worked it over, the more it made sense. Muladhara was Raphael down to the finest detail. It commands attention and can be forceful at times. The color of passion and love and determination— the color of anger and daring. A color and chakra associated with abandonment and inherited trauma...

Donnie didn’t want to think about it anymore. And he didn’t dare try to activate the weapons knowing their power. He sat them aside and moved onto Leonardo’s katana.

Like the Tonfa, they were nothing special at first glance. Blades made from tamahagane steel common in ancient Japan, and the Tsuka was as unique as every tsuka, covered in ray skin and silken rope, with writing from the first ever wielder of the blade.

Anatawa Hitorijanai... you are not alone.

Under the goggles, another new vision of the mystic weapon opened up for him. The blue chakra of course— Vishuddha. The throat chakra. It took a lot more critical thought than with Raphael’s weapons, but Donnie supposed that the chakra could fit Leonardo. The balance of Vishuddha would speak truthfully, encouraging conversation and relying on self expression. Speaking with confidence and feeling compassion for those around you— communicating your worries even when you were scared to... but an unbalanced Vishuddha with no way to express it could easily lead to the anxiety Leonardo often felt in social settings. Perhaps his chakra was underactive, or blocked completely, by the feeling of something... unfulfilled in his life.

Donnie had more confidence experimenting with the teleporting sword than he did with the Tonfa. He wouldn’t have to go through it himself, he figured— he could just toss something through and study how it worked. He picked up the blade and looked it over before holding it out to the air in front of him. Leonardo had told him that he had to have a very clear image in his mind— no other thoughts clouding it. Any mistake or misthought could lead to an unstable portal, and unstable portals were extremely dangerous. You could get trapped between rifts, or get portal jacked, or end up hundreds of miles away from where you intended! Donnie closed his eyes to better imagine the room in front of him. Every fine detail... every flaw and crack and puddle and crawl space... every bug skittering around and every sound and every smell surrounding him like a cloud of mist.

He traced the blades point through the air and he was sure he could feel some minor resistance, but he kept focusing on the room. Droplets falling on the stone floor... forming puddles...echoing down the tunnels...

He completed the circle and opened his eyes. Immediately he pulled back as the brightest shade of turquoise almost blinded him, and after a moment of shielding his eyes he finally forced himself to look toward the brightness. The circle wasn’t perfect. In fact, the rift itself seemed almost squiggly, as if distorted by water. Distorted, but hopefully functional. Donnie took a pen out of his tool belt and reluctantly approached the portal, resisting against the temptation of its mystic pull and holding out the pen ready to throw it in. Then another thought occurred to him. What if he just…

He dropped the pen. At first the pen made as if it was going to fall but stopped midair by some otherworldly force. Then it was drawn to the portal and through it with a bubbling noise as it disappeared. Then another rift came to existence above Donnie and, before he could do anything more than look up to it, the pen fell out and hit him on the head.

“Ow.” It didn't hurt, but he said it anyway as he picked up the pen and put it back where it belonged. Curious. Very curious…

He took the sword and slashed through the original portal, destroying both it and its awkward counterpart with nothing more than a soft blip as the magic returned to the blade. There, no harm done! Now all that was left was Michelangelo’s.

A long chain, surprisingly rust-free for how far back it dated. The previous owners must have taken extreme care to keep it in the shape it was in. A chain that, despite how flexible and controlled it looked in Michelangelo’s skilled hands, was short and almost stiff in Donnie’s. The weighty was only on one end, as opposed to both as would be used with most kusari-fundo. A round weight with a ring of spikes across it. Donnie gave one point an experimental poke and yelped as it broke the skin and he started to bleed.

“Another note to self— pointy bit sharp.” He examined the serrated edges a bit longer before moving onto the goggle-inspection.

The sacral chakra, as Donnie had expected. Swadisthana, the orange chakra located in the lower belly. Connected to empathy and intimacy, pleasure both sensual and sexual. Creativity, fantasies, feelings. Everything that made up Michelangelo. An imbalance could lead to someone with boundary issues… yes, definitely Michelangelo, Donnie added to himself with a slight snort as he remembered just how clingy and touchy this world’s Michangelo’s was. At least his world’s always directed that touch-hunger to Raph or Leo and not to him.

A carving on the side of the weight caught Donnie’s attention and he spun it around to get a better view. The design was very faint, but it was there. It looked almost like a smiley face with closed eyes, something Donnie figured to have been added quite recently by Michelangelo. But further examination of it showed that the carving was old, as old as the weight itself, and installed by a previous owner. He even doubled and triple checked just to be sure he wasn’t seeing things.

Now all that was left to do was test it out. He had minor experience with chain weapons (the likes of which still haunted him to his day and made him give an uncomfortable shiver) and it wasn’t like he was actually going to fight with it! He was just going to test out the weight distribution and how effective it would be during fights since he had yet to see any of the other-world counterparts in battle.

He grabbed the handle securely, nodding at the nice distribution he was already feeling. He was just about to take a swing when he remembered the goggles still on his face and decided to take them off first, in case they somehow screwed with any of his data. He did so and turned to swing the kusari-fundo once more until something else this time stopped him in his tracks.

The glow didn't stop. He had taken off the mystic sensors and he tapped his head just to be sure! But the glow didn't stop. The smiling face was a much more prominent yellow against the orange, and Donnie was sure its eyes had been closed before…

The pupils in the eyes moved to stare at him and Donnie screamed and dropped the weapon in horror as he crawled back against the wall. The weapon pursued. On it’s own with no master or anything physical to command it. It drifted up and it’s living, flaming eyes followed Donnie’s every move. He made an experimental motion toward the door and the weapon made the same motion as it readied to pursue until Donnie returned to his original position.

The thud of approaching feet sealed Donnie’s fate in stone. Seconds later, seven mutant turtles poked their heads into the room, three of them armed and the other four looking confused and concerned by their lack of weapons.

“Donnie?” Leo tried to make a motion to approach his brother, but quickly withdrew out of the room when the kusari-fundo gave a warning spark. “The hell’s that thing?”

“Sparky!” Michelangelo ran into the room confidently with his arms extended, his brothers spilling in after him.

“Wait, no!”

Donnie awaited a terrifying assault that didn't happen. Instead, the fiery weapon subsided it’s flame and fell swiftly through the air to land in Michelangelo's arms. Michelangelo cuddled it closely and churred as he covered the tiny face in kisses.

Finally able to breath, Donnie went to part from the wall, but was stopped by a rough hand the size of his plastron.

The anger in Raphael’s eyes was uncanny. “You have a lot of explaining to do…”

#tmnt fic #rottmnt #Tmnt 2012 #fanfic #Tmnt #rottmnt donnie #rise raphael #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey

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vanderlindemorgans · 4 years ago

Text

Cross My Heart (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Summary: A traitorous Agent Whiskey returns to the United States on the run. Being cast out by Statesman, he soon finds that you’re the only person he can turn to - the embittered former flame from years long passed

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Eventual smut, some references to alcoholism and drug use. Reader is in her late twenties but there is an age gap between her and Whiskey. Chapter specific warnings are as follows - mentions of alcohol, descriptions of blood, Whiskey being a bit of an ass and some brief talk of dead relatives.

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You watched him as he settled himself back down into the couch, taking note of every breath he took while he reclined back, refusing to look you straight in the eye. That didn’t bother you too much - you were too busy studying the myriad of bruises and cuts splayed along his body, from the tears and scuffs in his denim jacket to taking note of his perfectly maintained Stetson. How on Earth that thing had managed to escape from whatever situation Jack had gotten himself into unscathed mystified you, but from what you remembered of him you knew he loved that damn hat to death.

Neither of you had said a word to each other since he stumbled through your front door only moments before, that heightened sense of tension undoubtedly ripe in the air. You thought if you ever saw Jack Daniels face again that you’d have a couple of cutting remarks to say to him - if you ever did think about him that is, and you usually didn’t. Jack hadn’t haunted your thoughts for years now, memories of the summer you two first met and the cold dark of winter when you fell apart falling away to the sands of time. The last thing you ever expected was to have him show up on the front step of your ranch, looking like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. Gazing over him now, you felt it was somewhat your obligation to make sure he was fine: despite your less than amicable feelings towards him you weren’t about to let him die on your couch.

“Can I get you anything?” you asked him, a hint of uncertainty to your tone. He turned his gaze towards you and shrugged slightly, looking no less unsettled than he had a moment before. “I’m fine for now. Trust me, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks”.

“You sure about that? No offense, but you kind of look like a wreck” you shot back, to which he replied with a small scoff. “Nice to see you too, sweetheart. I forgot how hospitable you were to those in your care”.

You could feel a spark of heat rise in your cheeks at his words, and almost wanted to retort back with something equally if not more biting. That fucking bastard. Here he was, lying on your couch looking like he’d walked out of a gang fight and he had the gall to give you attitude. “Alright, ignoring your completely rude and uncalled for attitude for a moment, you still haven’t answered my question. What the fuck did you get yourself into?” you asked.

There was a momentary pause where Jack looked back up at you, an expression of remorse crossing over his face in the brief glance he shot at you. Turning his gaze back down towards the wooden coffee table before him, he shook his head and sighed. “Sorry about that, darlin’.I just...I got myself into a bit of a tight situation. Things have gotten complicated now” he explained, prompting you to raise your brow at him.

“Yeah, I can see that. Who did this to you?”.

“Just some other agents. It doesn’t matter” he replied curtly.

“From where? Statesman?” you asked. After dating him for about a year, you were well aware of his position as an agent to Statesman, and you knew exactly what that job entailed. Jack had been injured before, sometimes worse than how he was now. You remembered once he came back from a mission with several different bones broken, multiple gunshot wounds and a concussion. You’d been left worried for weeks after that as he recovered, only being allowed short visits to see him due to the very nature of his job. This time was different though. You knew Jack was a survivor, but for him to show up out of the blue after several years of no contact, looking the way he did, something was horribly wrong. Studying his expression intensely, you couldn’t help but let out a low sigh in frustration. It annoyed you to some degree of how evasive his answers had been thus far. It was almost like he was ashamed to even say what had happened to him, ashamed to be even talking to you.

“No, no, they...they weren’t. That’s not important right now though” he finally answered, running the edges of his fingers over his tattered jeans. If it were any other day you would have been more upset at his dismissal of your question but upon seeing the troubled look on his face you felt it best to let it go. An uncomfortable silence had started to hang over the room, the space between you and him feeling more and more tense as the moments ticked by. You looked down at your shoes, taking note of every scuff and streak of mud as if they were the most interesting things in the world, and giving yourself another minute of hesitation before blurting out “Why are you in Dallas?”.

“It just so happened to be the place the cargo plane I was stowing away on landed. I wasn’t tryin’ to seek you out or anything, if you’ll believe me”.

His explanation gave cause for you to raise a single brow at him once more, not entirely believing it to be a coincidence that he just happened to show up in Dallas after seven years of radio silence. “Really? Why come here then? Don’t you have your agent buddies to fall back on for shit like this?” you inquired, your tone coming off far more biting and bitter than you originally intended it to. You could see Jack seize up slightly at your callousness, a pained expression passing over his face that made your breath catch in your throat for a second before you darted your eyes away from him, focusing back down to your shoes and deriding yourself for even having a moment of fleeting attraction to him. All these years and those pathetic puppy dog eyes still managed to get to you. Damn him.

“Usually, yeah. Not this time round though. I’ve…” he stopped himself, his eyes betraying the deep wounded pain woven within them, strengthening every second longer he dwelled on the memory of his former glory. “I’ve been kicked out of Statesman. Or, well, I haven’t officially been kicked but after what happened the other day I’d be a damn fool if I even tried to walk through their doors again”.

You blinked at him in confusion, his words not fully registering with you. Statesman kicked him out? Him of all people? You briefly considered the possibility that he was simply just pulling your leg and trying to gain some sort of sympathy but upon remembering the pained expression on his face you were instantly told all you needed to know about the truth behind his words. Ok, so he’s not lying, but still...why? “I find it hard to believe that they’d just boot out their best field agent. What did you do to warrant that?”.

You could see Jack’s mouth twitch slightly, indicating that he wasn’t entirely up for divulging such information. Running a hand through his hair, he trained his eyes to the ground and refused to look up at you as he went on to explain what exactly had gone down to lead him there. “Long story short, I had a disagreement of sorts with a couple of agents from a fellow organisation, and may have gone against Champ’s direct orders in order to hinder them. I guess you could say I went rogue” he elaborated, intentionally trying to keep some of the finer details out. You had half a mind to push for more info, though after another seconds thought you decided against that idea and instead settled for nodding at him semi-sympathetically. “I see. So...why are you here then?”.

He didn’t answer you right away, rather finding himself to be staring straight upwards at the wooden beams on the ceiling above. You analysed his expression, trying to find any sort of hint towards what he was thinking. Your eyes kept being drawn back to that dried gash of blood across his cheek, and you winced at the thought of him being in any sort of prolonged pain. Maybe you should have fetched some medical supplies for him after all - knowing Jack and the way he was, he always liked to downplay the dangers associated with his job. Every time he wound up in Statesman’s medical wing needing some sort of bullet taken out of him he never once admitted to ever being in pain. Getting injured was part of the job, he always said, so it wasn’t worth it to worry over him everytime he got hurt in the line of duty. He was an expert at saying he was fine when it was all too clear that everything wasn’t.

The sound of Jack sighing heavily pulled you from your thoughts, looking up to see him with his head in his hands, practically exhibiting every clear sign of tension in the book. A small part of you wanted to feel sorry for him, for seeing him like this. “Look, I realise this may be too much to ask of you, considering our history, and part of me hates that I have to in the first place but...I have nowhere else to go. I can’t go back home to either New York or Kentucky. I’m not an agent anymore, so I can’t ask any of them for help, and I’m almost a hundred percent sure that I’ve got some sort of bounty on my head now. I’m on the lam as they call it” he prattled. “I need a place to hide out, to lay low while I sort some shit out”.

The day had already been weird enough already, hearing him ask for your help was only just the cherry on top. Blinking slowly and with your mouth hanging open in utter disbelief, you blurted out “Let me get this straight: you need my help?”.

“Just for a little while, and I promise, sweetheart, as soon as I’m able to I’ll be outta your hair” Jack assured, turning his eyes upwards to you so that you could see his lovely brown eyes, the very same ones that you felt yourself get lost in all those long years ago. “I would never ask this of you unless I had no other choice. You and I both know that”.

You were at a complete loss for words. Between his tone and those frustratingly sweet eyes of his, you weighed your options carefully on what you should do. Should you let him stay with you? On one hand, with what he’d done to you years ago, something that still left you hurting even now, some part of you felt hostile towards him being around again. You remembered being young and 21, giving your heart out to him and only ever receiving empty promises in the end, leaving you with the painful memory of standing crestfallen on a flight of marbled stairs, on a night that you had sworn was gonna end with a ring ending instead with a shattered heart and never-ending glasses of merlot on your lips. Eventually, you’d learnt to live with the heartache. And pretty soon, for the most part, you’d forgotten. Seeing him there, tonight, in your living room of all places, was starting to bring those feelings back. No matter how hard you tried to stifle them, ignore them and focus on the matter at hand, you still felt the bitterness creep into your tone every time you opened your mouth.

Still, even though Jack had hurt you, you couldn’t just leave him out with nothing. From what he told you, he truly had nowhere else to run. If you threw him out now, he could be dead within hours. The mere thought of that made your heart sting, and despite any bad blood between you two you weren’t heartless, so with a small sigh, you at last settled on the answer you would give to him. “Alright. I’ll let you stay. On one condition though: you gotta help out a little with some of the ranch handling stuff. Once you’re all healed up from your injuries of course” you posited. “And don’t bother trying to butter me up, I’m not enough of an idiot to fall for your charms twice. I’m doing you a favour so it would be in your best interest to avoid pissing me off. You think you can handle that?”.

He smirked back at you, though it was void of it’s usual playfulness and felt to be more out of sadness than anything resembling his usual jackassery. “You drive a hard bargain, sweetheart, but yeah, of course. I’d be more than happy to help ya out”.

“Alright. Now…” you nodded at him before turning on your heel in the direction of the kitchen in search of some bandage and gauze for his injuries. “I am going to get you some medical supplies because even though you said you’re fine you clearly aren’t, and I’m not about to have you dropping dead in my goddamn living room. The blood would get all over the carpet and I ain’t lookin’ to pay to get it cleaned” you announced, dropping down to your knees and rifling through one of the lower kitchen cabinets for all the necessary items.

You could hear him chuckle from the living room, imagining him to be wearing a more toned down version of that charming grin he always seemed to have on him. “Ah, you wound me, my dear girl. Where are your folks?”.

His question made your heart seize in your chest, your hands grasped around the roll of bandage and bottle of antiseptic you’d scrounged out from the back of the cupboard. Rising to your feet, you stuttered on your words as you led yourself back into the living room with an arm full of different medical equipment. “They...they died a couple of years ago. It’s been just me for awhile” you answered back, doing your best to ignore the look of surprise that spread across Jack’s face. “I’m sorry to hear that, darlin’”.

Tearing off a strip of bandage, you motioned for him to give you his arm so that you could begin tending to some of the deeper cuts on him. “It’s ok. Well, not ok, really, but what can you do?” you murmured, brushing the length of his torn denim jacket out of the way and pressing down a dash of cold antiseptic cream across one of his cuts, watching as how he winced slightly from the sting. “Life goes on. It has to, or else you get left frozen”. Shaking your head, you began to tie the strip of fabric around his forearm, eager to get off the topic of your deceased loved ones as soon as possible. “I’ll put you up in the guest room upstairs. Don’t go through any of the shit in the cupboards, ok? It’s private stuff”.

“I would never dream of doing so, sugar”.

“Good. Lucky for you, none of these gashes seem too bad so they’ll most likely heal within a couple of days. I’ll just put a bit of adhesive over that awful one you got across your cheek and you’ll be right as rain in no time” you said, popping open the box of adhesive bandages.

Jack smiled at you, albeit weakly as you smoothed the bandage over his cheek. “Thank you for doing this for me. I mean it. Honestly, I didn’t think you were even gonna let me stay here”.

You shot him an odd look at that comment, leaning back down to pick up the various bits of first aid paraphernalia off the floor to deposit back onto the coffee table. “What do you take me for, Jack? I ain’t a cold hearted bitch. I hate you for what you did but I don’t want you to die or anything” you quipped, staring at him straight in the eyes as you said those words. Not allowing him a second to respond, you turned away and began to walk off towards the stairs, starting to feel the exhaustion of the day sink in once again when you placed your foot on the first rung.“You’re all good to go. I’d say go upstairs and get some rest, lord knows that’s what I’ll be doing. If you need anything give me a shout ok?”.

He nodded back at you wordlessly, abruptly turning away afterwards the lean against the couch with his back turned to you, lost back in his own thoughts. You allowed your gaze to linger on him for a moment longer then dragged yourself up the stairs and towards your bedroom, flicking off the hallway lights as you went. In an instant after you heard the click of your bedroom door shut behind you, you allowed yourself to groan out in agony at your entire predicament. So, your ex-boyfriend is on the run and hiding out in your house. This could prove to be interesting...

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #kingsman: the golden circle #kingsman fanfiction #cross my heart #pedro pascal

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dannyphantom-rewrite · 4 years ago

Text

Character ref for; Jack, Maddie and Jazz,

Art by @gally-hin / @gally-hin-phantom

Okay so first off; in terms of Actual redesign, I didn't change a whole lot. I'm actually very fond of Jack and Maddie's design's, my only real issue was with their proportions. Like...look as a lady person who is also thiCC I do not have a fucking wasp thin waist and I'm sure I'm not the only one, lmao. As for Jack? Godamnit he looked like a brick on toothpicks. Just Let him be a fucking Bara man! Anyway of course I asked Gally to do this one bc they're fucking great at drawing different body types

I also cannot and will not take credit for Jazz's outfit. I didn't have any issue with her canon clothes aside from them being a bit plain, so what she's wearing here was literally pulled straight off of her original concept art, which I will link here.

Anyway, getting to the Actual character lore now, let's start with

Maddie Fenton

-Full name is Madeline (I haven't decided on a maiden name yet)

-Born and raised on a farm in Arkansas, had a southern accent that she trained herself out of in college bc it was just one more reason for people not to take her seriously. Still sometimes uses "y'all" completely unironically bc old habits die hard.

-She has a really big family, and they're proud of her accomplishments but feel like she's wasting her talent studying ghosts, because really, up until the Fenton portal was up and running there wasn't even any solid proof they existed. Her sister Alicia is the one outlier there, and even if she doesn't understand, it she completely supports her.

-She majored in engineering and minored in psychology at Wisconsin EDU. Her, Jack and Vlad were all in the same engineering class, and that's where they met.

-Maddie is particularly interested in how ghosts think, analysing their behavior, their motives. Not only that, but they aren't just dead people with unfinished business, they've built an entire culture in the Ghost Zone that is completely seperate from humanity, and she wants to understand all of it.

-skilled marksman and 9th degree black belt, (which is. The highest fucking level there is holy shit? I looked it up after I saw it on her wiki page.)

Jack Fenton

-He's from Minnesota (Amity park is in Illinois and him and Maddie didn't move there until after they got married)

-okay, "but why minnesota specifically" you ask? Because. I crave. Foot ball discourse.

-minnesota vikings vs green bay packers guys do you UNDERSTAND WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS

-The funny thing is that Jack only watches football casually while Vlad is a fucking die hard so when these two got together to see a game it was like....

-Jack: Here to chill and have a good time.

-Vlad: Primed and ready to start a fist fight at any given moment.

-I am never not going to be salty about how Canon Jack was portrayed like a complete moron 99% percent of the time. Like no...theres a difference between Actual Stupid and ADHD induced dumbass-ery.

-Am I saying Jack Fenton has ADHD? Yes. why? Because I also have ADHD and I have always vibed So Hard with his Character.

-Jack is loud and easily excited about things that interest him. He's impulsive and fidgety and yeah, a bit absent minded. He has a mouth that clearly runs so much faster than his head. His train of thought doesn't get derailed so much as it stops and takes several different detours on the way to it's final destination.

-and that's only the tip of the iceberg, really, I'd need an entire essay to get into this completely, but I just really relate.

-Jacks skill-set / interests regarding ghosts vary a bit from Maddie's, most notably in the sense that he doesn't believe that they're static entities already set in their ways, completely incapable of change.

-Jack majored in engineering and minored in Biology at Wisconsin EDU.

-Jack's work with tech is a bit hit or miss. He definitely HAS the engineering skills, but the intrest isn't always there and he's constantly jumping back and forth between different projects. He tends to focus on the concept work and schematics and leave most of the assembly to Maddie as a result. It's an arrangement that works well for them, and has drastically decreased the number of unintentional explosions in the lab.

-A lot of Jack's work tends to revolve around ghostly biology and Ectoplasm, figuring out how ghosts are made, what makes them tick, what the hell Ectoplasm Actually Is, how it's used as an energy source, ect.

-and yes, that does also mean he handles the dissections.

-See that facial scar? Yeah, that's not actually there at the start of the series rewrite but it's very important for plot reasons so I had to include it. Can't say much more on the subject because SPOILERs owo.

Jasmine Fenton

-Jazz is a 18 years old, and a senior at Casper high.

-Which means she prepping to go away to college and won't be around to keep an eye on Danny.

-Obviously that doesn't mean I'm just writing her out of the story, oh no. Know why? Because she's also gonna go to Wisconsin EDU. ya know who else is in Wisconsin? Fuckin' Vlad.

-Jazz is autistic, Although she passes for neurotypical in part due to symptoms being completely over looked in girls due to gender stereotyping and also the fact that she doesn't have any special interests that are considered " "too weird.""

- Her hyperfixation with psychology started at a young age in an effort to better understand people, and social/emotional cues and all that.

-Jazz is well liked at school but she's not popular or apart of any specific group or clique. She's very kind and compassionate to people, and just about everyone knows her, but you'd be hard pressed to find someone who actually Considered her a friend. Except maybe Spike.

-I'm gonna have to give spike his own Character ref at some point, but he's this scary looking goth kid that's been held back twice. He's actually super sweet, just really fuckin' quiet and anxious. Him and jazz kinda ended up gravitating towards each other. She might do most of the talking, but they look out for each other.

-its not like jazz doesn't try to socialize, but it's difficult and she's found it much easier and less stressful to just. Keep to herself and let her interactions with her peers stay shallow and superficial. Sure, it's lonely sometimes but it's better than constantly worrying about saying the wrong thing or making some other misstep.

-One of Jazz's other special interests is football, and it's not so much the players or the game as it is the strategy of it? Started out as one of those things you do to bond with your dad, and she ended up getting really into it.

-She absolutley winds up getting into stupidly intense discussions with Vlad about it, too, lmao.

-Her and Danny probably bonded over SBNation bc that shit has both sentient satellites and ridiculously complex football mechanics.

-She's completely oblivious to the fact, but Dash has a massive crush on her bc holy shit this girl understands football (hey bud your toxic masculinity is showing put that shit away)

-I mentioned that Danny was in Cheer for a bit in middle school so it makes sense that she'd also be pushed into doing some kind of extracurricular activity.....so.....she was in a martial arts class for a bit thanks to Maddie and has a good grasp on self defense.

I think that's everything? I feel like I'm leaving things out tho? Idk if I did I'll come back and add on to this later and also pls don't hesitate to ask questions bc it really helps me flesh things out better.

#danny phantom #art #danny fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #jazz fenton #ref

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