#its like they tried to make sam unlikable
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Just start season 8 of supernatural and what you mean Sam didn't look for dean?????? WHAT KIND OF MISCHARACTERIZATION OF MY BABY IS THIS⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️it's like the creators were trying to make Sam a bad guy
#that literally made no sense#they have sam here looking like a mess and he then said he DIDN'T spend all year trying to kill himself over dean⁉️#bro if thats not out of character#im at episode one#someone tell me that there is a plot twist or a reason#this is outta the left feild.#its like they tried to make sam unlikable#which why???#almost forgot#supernatural#supernatural tv show#sam winchester#deans favorite punching bag
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Would you write a plus size reader w either bucky or steve(or both) where they are her first real relationship and she gets scared that she doesn't deserve to be with either of them and so she tries to push them away so she doesn't get hurt but instead they show her why she is their person.... like tooth rotting fluff and the filthiest smut..... if that's okay if not no worries
| All Yours, Only Yours |
18+ Minors DNI
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5d54749a8a6295c92c569ec37e3cdf1b/f92ba1e5b1bb05ec-f2/s400x600/ce90c9573a5cada6c989533dc74bfd6ccf2e4447.jpg)
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✧Pairing✧ Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader
✧Warnings✧ A lil angsty, Sharon being a big bully (like seriously you’re 50 and you’re bullying someone? ick), Name calling, Angry Buck, Crying, Bucky is a simp, Confessions, Marking, Dry humping, Oral (F), Fingering (F), Teeny bit of cum play, Dirty talk, Unprotected PinV, Praise, Petnames, My shitty writing — again very tame for me but i didnt want to go overboard. If there any more I’ve neglected to add please let me know.
✧Word Count✧ 4.3K
✧Author Note✧ I really hope you enjoy this and I've done your request justice, I honestly tried my best but idk…Anyways!!! Much love to everyone, please let me know what you think. Love ya xxx
“Still not answering?” Natasha asks from her spot in the cockpit, concern evident from the wrinkle between her brows.
“Nope” he spits his reply, reeling from the whole ordeal. He thrusts his phone into his jean pocket, sick to the back teeth of nothing but a black screen greeting him instead of your sweet little messages.
“Did you piss her off or something?” Sam tries to lighten the mood but is swiftly shut down, his hands rising in surrender at the killer glare the brunette shot his way.
“Calm down everyone, we’ll be home soon so we can figure this out” Steve, the voice of reason commands order within the small confines of the jet. He sits, a gloved hand rubbing over his friend's shoulder trying to reassure his muddled brain but to no avail.
Bucky is pissed. He’s pissed and he’s worried sick. A week he’s been gone for and he’s missing you like crazy. The only issue? You are ignoring him, straight up ghosting his brooding ass which is completely unlike you. Often on missions when Bucky clicks his phone on he’s greeted with a flurry of messages from you; photos of little birds you see on your walks, photos of alpine taken at odd angles and constant little messages that make his heart full and ready to continue his painstaking missions—none of it, just a notification from your favourite restaurant offering a discount to keep him happy.
As soon as this jet landed he was going to get to the bottom of what was going on and then he was going to cuddle you to death as punishment. Not that he’d let anyone else know that.
One Week Earlier…
Beep beep beep. Bucky’s alarm sounds at the ungodly hour of five am, his groan following. He didn't want to get out of this bed, he was too warm, his huge body wrapped around yours. Your movements spurred his own, your arm reaching over to switch off his alarm while he pushed himself into a sit, thoughts already on the mission afoot.
“Morning,” your raspy voice purrs, bringing his attention back to you. His eyes fall to your face; following the slope of your puffy cheeks up to your barely open eyes, your hues peeking through only enough to tease him. Putting his weight on his right arm he’s on top of you before you can blink, his head tucked into the crook of your neck, peppering tiny kisses along the warm skin.
“Morning princess,” he bites back his yawn, shifting so his hips slot in their spot between your plush thighs, loving the way they wrapped around his narrow waist just the way he loved. Practice truly did make perfect. His dark vibranium fingers drifted from your collarbone, over the swell of your breast until it found its favourite perch on your hips.
“So fucking pretty” he breathes, his pupils dilating to let more of you in — until you pushed him away.
“You gotta get ready Mr” you giggle, moving your foot so you could push him further away, ruining his plan B of pinning you down by your hips.
“Don’t remind me…”
His cold left hand hooks around your ankle, pushing at it until your knee hinged, bending up and out. A suspicious hardness presses against you, a wicked smile on your boyfriend’s face.
“I mean it Buck we can’t, Nat will be kicking that door down any minute” he groans at your words knowing that you are completely right. That lock had been replaced an embarrassing amount of times because of that exact situation. You hated rejecting him, knowing that he could easily put you back to sleep until midday if he wanted. After a small standoff between you both you warn him again, an arch in your brow and a growl behind his name.
“You’re such a little tease, you know that?”
You laugh, sitting up, watching him skulk around the room in nothing but his grey Calvin Kleins, “I haven’t done anything!”
“Sure you haven’t” he argues, moving over to you again, his metal fingers looping under your chin to tilt your head back to gaze up at him, “Looking so fucking sexy in the morning and I can’t fuck you stupid. That’s not teasing that’s damn near criminal.”
You groan, rolling your eyes at your pouty 106-year-old man. You inch closer to his mouth, a sickly sweet definitely not bratty smirk on your face. “Get your ass ready.”
“Fine…but only because you looked so fucking sexy ordering me around,”
“Bucky!” You shout after him, blush on your full cheeks. He only smirks over his shoulder, pushing his briefs to the floor at the entrance to the bathroom, giving you a full view of his posterior.
You get up too, knowing you had been awake too long to fall asleep again. You get ready with the shower as background noise, pulling on some workout clothes. Today you decided you’d try out the gym right here in the compound, you’d been to many different ones in the past; often polluted with the smell of days-old sweat and men reeking of testosterone, grunting and groaning at weights you could only dream of lifting.
An hour later, after waving Bucky off on his week-long mission you were in the gym.
“Hey” you smile as you pass Sharon, her blonde hair whipping as she ducks and weaves to dodger imaginary punches the bag throws out before throwing a couple of her own. She offers you a tight-lipped smile, her eyes straying from your face down your body. She takes note of your long top and shorts that settle around mid-thigh compared to her sports bra and tiny shorts — her flat stomach and sculpted legs on display.
God you wish you had just as much ventilation. Just as you go to place your earphones in your ears you hear a scoff coming from Sharon’s direction. You pay it no mind, setting the treadmill for a nice incline and pace, pressing the timer until it shone with the time you wanted.
The treadmill slowed for the cooldown. Your eyes moved from the display in front to glance over your shoulder, the gym was empty. You grab your bottle only to realise thanks to your distraction you'd finished off your water. You stop the treadmill and hop off, making a beeline for the kitchen. The walk to the kitchen from the gym wasn’t that long but with the feeling of your sweat culminating in places you didn’t want it to be it was almost torturous.
“I couldn’t believe it when I saw her,”
A gaggle of hushed laughs comes from the kitchen, stopping you. A familiar dread coils in your stomach, reminding you of when you were young, the children pointing and laughing — joking at your expense.
“she must been on that treadmill for about five minutes and she was all like huff huff” she laughs obnoxiously “Her face was like a big tomato, I almost died trying to keep myself from laughing” Sharon continues.
The group cackles again at your expense, almost doubling as Sharon makes the huffing noise again. You cling to your shirt, pulling it from sticking to your body. These women you thought were friends did just what everyone else did.
“She’s pathetic, I don’t know what Bucky sees in her” Your heart stops. That little devil on your jumps and cheers at the confirmation of what it has been telling you since the start of your relationship with Bucky. You were never enough.
“I can’t wait for him to dump her once he gets sick of her wide load.”
Tears fall on their own accord but you don't register them, too busy inside your head being suffocated by every doubt and self-conscious thought you ever had since you confessed your feelings for the super soldier. You didn't deserve Bucky and everyone thought that too.
Back at your room, freshly clean. You scrolled through your messages from Bucky. The little hearts next to his messages no longer felt genuine like he was only doing it merely to save your feelings from being hurt. You were nothing but a burden that he was forced to bear; it wouldn’t be long before like Sharon said, he got sick of the clinginess and the need for reassurance and broke up with you.
Well, you weren’t going to be a burden any longer. You wouldn’t let him break your heart first. You turned your phone off, tucking it into your bedside drawer.
—
“Bucky wait!” Sam calls from the quinjet but it goes ignored. Bucky’s face is twisted in annoyance as he takes wide, purposeful steps towards the tower doors. He was going to find you and you were going to tell him why the fuck you were ignoring him.
He ignores the shouts of his name as Nat, Steve and Sam follow him indoors, smashing the elevator button with his thumb and stepping inside. Once on your floor, he stormed like a charging bull to your room, slamming a gloved fist on your door in a poor excuse for a knock.
The loud knocking from the other end of the room had you jumping back in your seat, the slee overtaking you gone in an instant. Your heart lurched at the familiar face, worn from exhaustion and malice clear from the scrunching of his forehead and tick in his cheek muscle.
“Oh hello, where have you been?” Bucky snaps, glaring down at you as you use the door as a shield from his scrutinising eyes. Here it comes, the moment you’d prepared for all week. You don’t think you’ll go back to dating apps, too many weird me—
“You know how worried I was when you didn't answer me all week?”
Huh. “Huh?”
“‘Huh?’ Are you joking? You ghosted me, left me scared to death on a mission halfway across the globe and all you can say to me is huh!” His blue eyes glisten and you look at them closer. There was no anger there, only concern and fear culminating in swirls across his blue orbs, rearing its head in rage across Bucky’s face.
“Bucky I—” you try but you can’t find the words, each syllable sticks in your throat, balling up until it feels like you can no longer breathe. The week of bottled-up emotions spills forth at the sight of him — at the revelation that he was utterly terrified. Tears fall from your eyes before you know it, your lip wobbling as you keep trying to speak.
Bucky’s shoulders tense at the sight of tiny tears falling over your full cheeks, guilt replacing his earlier pain,
“Fuck c’mere baby” he pulls you close, bending at an almost uncomfortable angle just to hold you as close as humanly possible.
“I'm so sorry for being so annoyed but you have to see why I was so scared something had happened to you. You left me on read for an entire week and blanked my calls. That isn’t you, you know how scary that was for me?” He whispers so softly, backing you up to sit on your bed.
In his arms, surrounded by his warmth and scent the week you had fell from your mouth like alphabet soup, from the gym to Sharon to how hard it was to ignore your phone knowing that Bucky would’ve been calling you every single day but you did it to protect your own heart. Nothing was kept a secret.
“I’ll kill her,” he growls when you finish, muscles tightening even more around you.
“Buck.”
“Right…sorry, I won't kill her” He lied between his teeth, well sort of. He wouldn’t actually kill Sharon but he knew you'd be upset if he did anything to her which he was indeed planning to do but to save you any more pain for the evening, to keep that teeny tiny smile on your face he lied.
“What makes her think she has any fucking right to speak on other people’s appearance anyway?”
“She wasn't lying…” it came out in the tiniest little voice, maybe your way of silently hoping he didn't hear it and he wouldn’t have if it weren't for his super soldier ears.
Gripping onto your wrists Bucky flipped your world in an instant, the breath leaving your lungs as your back makes contact with the bed, your wrists caught on either side of your head.
“Are you lying to me doll?” He says, raising a brow at you.
“No…”
“You are! You're lying right to my face,” he argues, pressing your wrists further into the mattress below. Your eyes fall shut as his face inches closer to yours.
“Look at me princess,” he waits until you open both eyes again, looking up at him as if he strung the stars in the sky “There is not a single thing that I'd change about you and I mean that. I fell in love with you the way you are now, you aren't some bitch that gets off on making fun of others. I fell head over damn heels for you because you are you.”
His eyes sparkle with adoration, his hands running up and down your body softly. The juxtaposition of metal on one side and warmth on the other sends shivers up your spine.
“I love you,” he breathes, leaning down again till your lips graze his. A teasing smile pulled on the pink corners of his mouth, a similar glint in his eyes, “you know that right?”
“Yes,” you nod, pushing up to close the distance between your mouths but he pulls away.
“I don't think you do,”
“I do Buck I promise.”
“Well…” he began, the glint in his eyes dulling as want engulfed the colour, “let me make sure.”
Bucky takes his time. He has to knowing that you're feeling small. Slowly his lips slot with yours, ushering out sweet little sounds to replace the broken ones that still thrum fresh in his mind.
“I love you,” he says again, capturing your hitched gasp with his tongue as he pushes it past the seam of your mouth, the tip flicking against your own to entice it to mingle. Slowly but surely the tension drips from your shoulders, your arms moving from his grip to trail up over his rigid stomach and chest. They sink below the shoulder pads of his jacket, pushing it off his broad frame and onto the floor beside the bed. Your hands paw at the exposed skin on his arm, fingers squeezing, nails scraping over the corded muscle.
“All of yours…all of it.”
Each time the seal of your mouths broke you chase them, planting kisses teeming with nothing but raw desire onto kiss-bitten lips. The words that Sharon said are long gone from your mind now, replaced by the man in front of you. Everything you smell, taste, touch and see — it's all him.
The brunette slips off his glove; his warm and cold, metal hand grips your hips, pulling you up into his lap with a squeak.
“You feel that?” He grunts, moving from your mouth down your face to your neck. His lips suck and his teeth nibble, marking you, proving to anyone around that dare dispute his love for you again. With undeniable strength he grinds you down into a sizeable bulge poking from his tight jeans, he hisses at the contact, letting a hand fall to your ass with a small spank.
Your arousal seeps through your thin panties making them stick to your dainty folds; your clit buzzes at the delicious scratch the metal of his zip brings you — a gasp catching in your throat every time your neglected nub catches the pull tab.
As much as he worshiped the way you dry-humped his cock, soaking the front of his jeans. Bucky is desperate. After a week of no contact, not even a tiny emoji heart never mind a raunchy photo, he needs something — anything. And he's going to get it.
“Get on the bed” he demands, pushing at you ever so slightly. “Panties off.”
You do as you are told, fingers frantically hooking into the waistband of your underwear, rolling the material over your thick thighs until they hook around a single ankle.
“Spread those legs for me baby, lemme see that sweet little cunt.”
You hesitate for a second, your legs twitching to open but knees knocking again as you close them. Blown pupils snap onto your face his jaw clenched hard and his nostrils flared. Before you can react his calloused hands settle gently, luring you into a false sense of security.
They soothe down your thighs as his blue eyes study you. Inch by inch his dull nails tap over your beautifully wide thighs until he's back at your kneecaps. With a soft unassuming smile, bucky pushes your legs wide, a rush of oxygen leaving you as your sopping folds are exposed to the cool air of the room. He doesn't give you a chance to breathe before a warm hand smacks over your wet folds, your body jerks, an unabashed moan flying from your parted lips.
“Don't fucking deny me this” he growls, fire roaring in his eyes. “You ghosted me for a week, now you're gonna lie there all pretty and let me eat this sweet fucking cunt.”
You nod, biting your lip. At the first presence of him between your legs, his hot breath billowing over your labia, your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Over each fold, ridge and crevice his breath fans, a shiver rolling over your spine each time; without warning he lays his tongue flat and wide, licking a strip from hole to clit. His tongue disappears and he does it again, guttural sounds falling from him at your taste mixing with the sharp trills you let out.
“Sing for me baby, let me know how good I'm making that pretty pussy feel” He delves in like a man starved, devouring your cunt as though it were his first and last ever meal on earth. He'd die happily if it were.
You were a mess, a mess of pleading cries. Your legs shake against his powerful hold, your hands grip his unruly brunette locks. Letting his hands drop from your thighs he stops his slurping to lay a soft, sweet peck on your raw clit. He smiles up at you, his face glistening with your juices visible thanks to the city lights peeking in through your open windows. Your mind wandered, wondering if the people in the building across could see the way Bucky fucked his tongue into you, curling the long muscle up to press against that ridged spot on your upper walls — he hit it with ease every time.
Using your distraction as an advantage bucky moves a hand to join his mouth, sliding his fingers in alongside his tongue for a second before he pulls his tongue from you. He moves, looming over you with a massive shit-eating grin at how much he unravelled you. you should've been embarrassed at how wet his face was; slick ran from his stubbled upper lip over and below his chin. You had done that to him and he wore it proudly. His fingers push deeper and curl out, coaxing the coils in your stomach to snap.
“Come on baby I know you feel it” he speeds up, the sound of your messy pussy almost as loud as your harsh breaths and whimpers.
“Buckyyy” you squeal, gripping at anything you can.
“That's it, baby…you're squeezing around my fingers, are you gonna cum?”
You nod but it's not enough for your man. He dips, nipping at a pebbled nipple and that's all it takes for those tightly coiled ropes to pull taut and snap. A sound you've never heard from yourself erupts from your lungs, your fingers clutching at bucky, the sheets, anything. Stars peppered your vision, blocking out the smug image of your boyfriend, blood rushing in your ears muffling his words of praise.
“Come back to me baby, that's it, good girl. such a good girl” Bucky coos, his fingers slipping out to rub lazily at your clit. He keeps going until you jerk harshly in his hold.
“You did so well, such a good fucking girl cumming like that for me” He praises, kissing your cheek and then your mouth, a smirk pulling at his lips when you moan at your taste.
You flash him a big dopey smile in return, your eyes hazy and your plump little cheeks flushed. You look gorgeous; Bucky had seen many things in his long drawn-out life but nothing could ever compare to how you looked fucked out beneath him.
He would stay like this forever…if his cock wasn't aching for release.
He stands, fiddling with his belt and fly until it comes loose. He wastes no time in pushing them both past his round ass and onto the floor, his cock springing free. His shirt goes next, thrown somewhere in your small room letting you get the full experience of what Bucky had to offer you. Layers of corded muscle ripple beneath his silky but scarred skin, his chest peppered in tiny curly hairs that sink below his sternum and over his abs where they begin to thicken until they finish, well trimmed at the base of his thick, heavy cock.
His eyes never stray from your body as he takes himself in his hand, pumping once, twice, his thumb catching the precum leaking from his tip. He kneels back between your welcoming legs, rubbing his slick thumb over your lips. A hushed chuckle vibrates in his chest as you suck the thumb into your mouth, eagerly licking his taste from the digit.
“Such a dirty girl,” you giggle, pulling back until his thumb slips out of your mouth with a pop. “Do you think you can handle one more hm? Can you let me fuck that little hole?”
“yes Buck” you smile, your eyes falling shut as he kisses you again.
“good girl” he growls, moving your legs over his own before grabbing a pillow to squish under your hips. With one hand he pushes the head of his length through your mess, dipping into your hole before running back up over your clit. He does it a few times, occasionally slapping his cock against you, praising each tiny sound you let out.
“Please Buck” You toss your head back, grinding your hips up to meet nothing. At this rate, you were going to come to nothing more than his teasing.
“Please what?” Oh he's a piece of shit. He knows what you want because he wants it too. He waits for a beat, enjoying your huffs of frustration. “Tell me and I'll do it.”
With the last of your sanity, you cry out, “fuck me buck ple—ah”
You slap a hand over your mouth as he spears into you, stretching you like he does time and time again. It never gets any easier with a size like Bucky’s; his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust and your walls sing at the almost painful stretch.
Bucky’s thrusts are delightfully slow, letting you feel each drag and push, each rigid vein on his pulsing cock. There is no fucking involved, he's making love, making sure you know that he would spend eternity wrapped up in your body no matter what size you are. The deep coloured marks along your neck and between your thighs would attest to that.
“Fuck” he moans, mouth gaping. “Don't think ill last long princess” His vibranium fingers fall to your soft belly, skating over the smooth skin to your full hip.
He squeezes hard enough to leave marks, “fucking mine.”
His thrusts speed up, his head snapping back and eyes rolling. His balls bounce rhythmically against your ass, the bulbous head of his cock smashing into the end of your cunt where a dull ache forms — a warning of future hurt when you wake tomorrow. You don't care, not when his free hand dips between you both, pulling back the hood of your sensitive nub and flicking it over and over.
He feels the way you tighten around him, holding him in a vice grip, “hold it princess, just a little longer come on”
“I can't Bucky please” you whimper in response.
“Yes, you can baby—oh fuck I'm close” his weight falls atop yours, smothering you in him. His hips stutter, his balls pulling up towards his body.
“Cum now, soak my big fucking dick.”
The slamming of the headboard ceases when his thrusts slow to shallow grinding, his mouth swallows any sounds you let out.
“Such a good fucking girl for me—shit” he sighs, slips from you with a hiss.
“Buck—”
“Shh pretty girl you're alright” he holds you close for a while, holding you tight to his broad body. Tears fall from your cheeks but he swipes them away. You don't know why you ever doubted Bucky, he's the only constant in your life.
“I love you” He whispers as the blood rushing in your ears settles, running through your veins in exhaustion.
“I love you too”
“Don't you ever listen to those idiots again, because I will show you over and over what you mean to me” Bucky promises with a kiss on the crown of your head.
You smile, laying your own lazy kiss over your thumping heart. You like the sound of that.
I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except this page I have not given consent for it to be used.
Comments, Reblogs, Likes and Asks are always appreciated, however if you like this fic please consider reblogging to help it reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what I read and give me motivation to write more.
Thanks for reading~
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A fic-lit about Danny working at the watchtower, not as a superhero but as an engineer.
This is based on an prompt I read months ago but cant find where Danny put that he was a halfa on his resume but the hiring manager didn’t pay attention to it and hired him anyway. Rather than that its just Danny working at the watchtower and vibing on break when a tiny Robin finds him in the viewing deck.
—
Danny had been working for the justice league watchtower for a couple of months. He has seen hero’s come and go, paying him no mind and he was absolutely living for it! Unlike at 14, he was just a simple, normal worker—despite being half dead and the next in line for the crown in the infinite realms—he is just a simple mechanical engineer, Danny Nightingale. No one to fight, no one to save, just a big space station that needed someone to help keep it up in space.
And that's another bonus to this job; Space!
He gets to spend his shift up in the stars, looking out at the cold expanse of their solar system. Admiring the earth from a whole new angle, and he is getting paid to do it! Sure he could go into space any time, but being able to spend a good portion of his time here really made his core sing in joy. When he was on break he would wander around the areas he had clearance to go into, looking out every window at every star. Cataloging the ships movement through space with sharp eyes. His favorite place to go is the viewing deck, it was exactly what it sounded like, a place to just go and view that space outside.
It was there that Danny decided to take his break today, the Watchtower was at just the right angle to be able to see the earth from the viewing deck. Danny smiled watching the planet he lived on from afar, this really was the best job he could have ended up with!
A few months back he was having a hard time finding work after college, sure he had all the proper qualifications for the positions he applied for. But due to his medical condition—being half dead with a slow almost nonexistent heartbeat—they all refused him, afraid that his heart wouldn't keep up if he left the atmosphere to board any of the space stations orbiting the earth. To be fair it wouldn't have, he tested it by flying up to the moon and back the old fashioned way. But he couldn't just tell them that; being an ecto entity was still a crime that he was just barely able to get away from at age eighteen.
He came out to his parents once he graduated high school, they reacted poorly. Danny’s mom saw red and tried to kill him the rest of the way, claiming that Danny was just a ghost “piloting” his corpse around. Danny’s dad just stayed silent and watched, but before maddie could really do anything he acted. Jack knocked Maddie out with a strong blow to the back of her head. Danny remembered the hope that he had when Jack did that, but after he looked up at the man that hope died in his chest. The man looked torn, both angry and sad and in a voice lacking any of the familiar warmth said, “leave before she wakes up.” And he turned to pick up Maddie and made his way up the stairs. It was because of his dad that he was able to get away because after that Danny Fenton was declared dead. With the help of Sam and Tucker he was able to make a new identity for himself and go to school. From that day on Danny decided to move on and never look back.
After putting his name out there time and time again he was rejected. It wasn't until he got a letter in the mail saying he had been scheduled for an interview at Wayne tech of all places. He didn’t remember applying there but decided to go anyway, needing some sort of job to get him through. But when he got there he was greeted by Lucius Fox and Batman of all people! Danny nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the dark knight, Danny couldn't help but think the worst. But before he could bolt, Lucius explained that Batman was looking for workers with the help of Wayne Industries for the base of operations for the Justice League—The Watchtower. Turns out all his applications to several different space programs caught the man’s attention. He even explained that Danny wouldn't even need to have a physical or get on a spaceship because The Watchtower utilized teleportation technology. Danny was so excited that he agreed on the spot without even knowing the benefits he would get from working with them. Which—surprising to no one—were a lot of benefits.
Danny was drawn from his thoughts when he heard the soft, almost nearly nonexistent footsteps coming from behind him. Danny turned and saw a child—no older than twelve—wearing a hero’s costume that looked like he was mimicking a traffic light. The kid froze in his tracks when Danny turned to face him, the two staring at each other for a few moments before the kid smiled and waved at him.
“Hi,” the kid beamed at Danny, “I’m D—Robin!”
Danny lifted a brow, “you a part of the justice league?” He asked, not remembering a kid being a part of their team.
The kid shook his head, “No, my guardian is though!” He explained.
“Ah, neat,” Danny said nonshalontly as he turned back to look at the window, “you come to see the view?” He asked.
The kid walked farther into the room and gasped when he got a better look at said view. “Woah—”, he exclaimed, now standing next to Danny.
Danny looked beside him to see the stars reflecting off of the kids' eyes, “cool isn't it? I come here on my lunch breaks," Danny says.
The kid looked at him and then squinted suspiciously, “if you're at lunch where is your food?” He asked.
Danny smiled, “I forgot my lunch at home today,” Danny lied, seeing the stars gave him enough energy to continue going. He usually eats when he gets home.
“Really?” The kid asked with a raised brow.
Danny smiled and looked around to see if anyone else was there, when he saw no one he asked, “do you wanna hear a secret?” He asked. Robin looked around himself as well before he leaned down a bit so Danny could whisper into his ear, “I actually just absorb the energy from the stars to sustain myself.” He explained.
“Really?” Robin asked, looking at him again, trying to gauge if Danny was lying or not.
Danny smiled, “yep,” he said, popping the p, “that's why I got a job here, that way I won’t starve to death.” Danny grins.
“But cant you just look at the stars from earth?” Robin asked, tilting his head.
“I mean, sure,” Danny says with a shrug, looking back out the window, “but this is so much better, isn't it?”
Robin looked out the window, “yeah!” The boy exclaimed, “it's so much clearer up here than in Gotham.” He commented.
Danny smiled and looked back at the boy, “I live in Gotham, too.”
“Really?” Robin asked, “No wonder you come up here,” the boy commented, causing Danny to snort in laughter and it wasn't long before Robin joined him.
“You got that right,” Danny says with a smirk before something dawns on him, “Wait, hero from gotham? I didn't know Batman had a kid?” Robin looked away, Danny could feel his nerves and sadness pass through him.
Danny was about to tell him that he didn't have to talk about it but before he could get his words out Robin spoke up, “My parents died about a year ago… he took me in only recently, he decided to train me when I found out he was Batman,” the kid says looking down at his feet, a glare etched on his face, “i never got to avenge my parents, the murderer had a heart attack before I could even get to him….”
Danny reached out to the kid and placed his hand on Robin’s shoulder, Robin looked up at him—as if remembering that Danny was there with him.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Danny says softly, Robin looks away from him. “But I can tell you wholeheartedly, your parents are proud of you and what you are doing,” robin began rubbing at his mask, preventing him from wiping the tears away from his eyes underneath. “Here,” Danny says as he goes to pick up the 12 year old, “let's get you back to the Big Black Bat, I bet he is looking for you.”
Danny sits Robin on his hip and walks out of the room, rubbing circles into the child’s back. They walk together in silence, Robin resting his head in the crook of Danny's neck. “…Thank you,” Robin mumbles.
“Don't mention it kid,” Danny says as he looks around the corridor trying to spot anyone who could help him get this kid to the upper levels, “I know what it's like to lose your parents….”
“Really?” Robin asked, his head lifting off of Danny’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Danny says, “they didn't die, but they basically said they never wanted to see me again.”
Robin gasped, “that's not nice!” Robin declared making Danny laugh again.
“Your right,” Danny agrees as he turns down another hall towards where the zeta tubes were, maybe someone in there could help. “But, now I'm here, having the time of my life with the job of my dreams.”
Robin smiled again, “you could say you're living the HIGH life.”
Danny paused in the hall and started snickering, “that was a good one, Birdy.”
“Birdy?” Robin asked.
“Yeah, your name is Robin, that's a bird, so Birdy,” Danny explained, “its a nickname
“Does that make us friends?” Robin asked.
“Sure, as long as your guardian is ok with it.”
The boy smiled happily, excited at the idea of having made a new friend. The calm was interrupted but Danny’s supervisor yelled from across the room, “Nightingale!” He shouts, causing Danny to jump.
Danny turns to look at the man, “hey boss—” he starts, blocking Robin from the man, not wanting to scare the kid.
“You are late to clock back in! You're not getting paid to sit around with your head in the clouds!” The man shouts.
“Sorry sir, I was—”
“No! You need to get back to work, NOW!” He demanded, “this is a multibillion dollar space station, everything needs to be on a strict schedule!”
Danny sighed, his supervisor hasn't liked Danny from day one. Something about him being “young and nïeve” or something like that; “head higher up into space than we were right now.” At least that's what Danny heard him say about him once or twice.
Danny was about to talk back when something just past his manager caught his eye. It was Batman, walking fast with a look that told everyone to get out of the way. But Danny could feel the worry bleed off the man in waves. Must be looking for Robin, Danny’s mind supplied. Danny sidesteps his supervisor and shouts, “Hey Batman!” To catch the dark knight’s attention. Danny had to restrain his laughter when he saw the look of horror pass on his supervisor's face.
Now with the vigilanties cold glare focused on him, Danny smiled and adjusted his stance to show Robbin to him. “Looking for you kid?” Danny asked.
Robin smiled nervously and waved at Batman, guess he wasn’t supposed to wander off like he did. “Hey B!” He shouts.
Batman’s glare softens so slightly, a regular person would have missed it. However, Danny could feel the man’s previous anxieties melt away into a strong relief. Batman strutted forward and glared down at Danny—despite Danny being taller than him. Danny just smiled and adjusted Robin on him so he could hand him over to the dark knight.
Now in Batman’s arms, Robin tapped his pointer fingers together nervously. “Sorry for wandering off,” he mumbled before his smile came back full force, “but,” he exclaimed, “I made a friend! His name is Danny and he liked my puns! And we both have bird names!” He exclaimed all while pointing at Danny.
Batman looked from the kid in his arms to Danny, “hmm,” he grumbled. A man of few words, Batman nods at Danny.
Danny nodded back, “He’s a good kid, glad I was able to help.” Danny replied. Feeling gratitude from that small gesture alone. Batman isn't the most expressive but being able to read emotions like Danny really helps when talking to people.
Batman turns his head to look over at Danny’s superior, “hmm.” After that Batman turned and walked away.
Robin climbed to sit up on Batman’s shoulder and waved back at Danny, “Bye bird buddy! Have a good day!” He shouts as Batman enters the elevator. The doors closing behind them and leaving the zeta tube control center in near silence.
Danny looked back to his supervisor who looked as pale as a sheet ghost, Danny gave him a shit eating grin and shrugged at him. “I tried to tell ya—”
“Get back to work Nightingale!” He shouts.
“Ok, ok, I'm going.” Danny says, turning on his heels and walking away from the man with his hands held up in surrender.
—
I have so many ideas for this au and if I write more I might post it on my AO3 feel free to read other things I posted on there!
#fun#dp x dc#dpxdc#crossover#ficlit#robin!dick#dick grayson#danny fenton#goes by Nightingale#disowned by parents in au#my au my rules#the watchtower#watchtower worker!Danny#ghost prince danny#he wont officially be crowned king until he fully dies#dcxdp#dcxdp crossover#bruce and danny are the same age becaue i said so#may make it gay#who am i kidding#its already gay#:3#>:3#uwu
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Fun fact: almost all of the apples you eat are clones!
You see, apples have extraordinary variety in their phenotypes. Just like dogs, their fruit can vary so much that it’s hard to believe that they even come from the same species.
Except unlike a dog (where if you breed two boxers together, you’ll get another boxer), apple genetics have so much variety that every single seed planted will sprout into something completely new (and likely foul-tasting).
Even if you pollinate an apple tree with its own pollen, enough genetic re-combining will happen so that the resulting tree will produce fruit that is absolutely nothing like the fruit of its singular parent.
This makes apples (and other tree fruits) extremely difficult to selectively breed, so almost every single apple variety simply… isn’t selectively bred! Almost all apples, save for GMOs, were basically spontaneously generated by nature and simply propagated by humans.
But how do you propagate a set of genetics that doesn’t grow “true to seed”? Easy.
You graft.
Plants, unlike animals, are eager to accept any marginally similar flesh as their own.
You can cut off a branch of a tree (or a stem of almost any plant), affix the branch of a different tree (called a scion) over top the newly-created wound, and the base tree (called the rootstock) will heal them together and incorporate the new branch into its vasculatory system.
Not only will a tree willingly incorporate tissue of any member of its species, many trees will also take on the tissue of other species!
If it’s done while the tree is young enough, you can get a tree with very sturdy roots AND nothing but perfect apples from the waist up.
Grafting is the oldest form of cloning. It’s an agricultural practice with evidence of practice as far back as 2,000 BCE
Could you imagine if animals were like that? You could just stick something on and it would just work?
(I can’t help but wonder if ancient people ever tried grafting livestock together after seeing that it works with crops)
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Each Dialtown cast member shares their favourite Muppet!
Idea: Characters from the cast of Dialtown are asked to share their favourite characters from The Muppets, in order to get the Muppets fandom on board with DT, which winds up being a largely fruitless ordeal.
Gingi insists that Grover and Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street are Muppets when asked, and takes it badly when Gingi is instead asked to name a character FROM The Muppet Show. The ensuing discussion that follows is much too rancid to be published online, making the time spent trying to calm Gingi down entirely in vain.
Karen's comments are not published as she refuses to do ANYTHING other than vent frustrations about Kermit the Frog, making her comments unusable as they would undoubtedly piss off a large section of the Muppets fandom, who largely venerate Kermit the Frog.
Randy tries to make an argument for Scooter being the 'best one', feeling that he, himself, is the scooter of the Dialtown cast, and thus, must stick up for one of his ilk. This answer is NOT published because the internet would tear him to shreds for playing devil's advocate for the worst Muppet.
Randy is then given another opportunity to pick a favourite Muppet, provided he selects a different Muppet. Randy picks Pepe the Prawn. When asked why Pepe is his favourite, tears well on his screen and he asks if he can leave to get a glass of water. Upon leaving the room, Randy never comes back. The answer isn't included in the article, as it's impossible to discern whether Randy feels that Pepe the Prawn is truly a kindred soul or if he was simply put on the spot and felt pressured to simply name the first Muppet he thought of.
Oliver answers by explaining Gonzo is his favourite but every time he's given an opportunity to explain why, his explanation inevitably transitions into a rambling endorsement of anarchism. Each time, after he's been given an opportunity to explain himself, Oliver is asked to rephrase his answer to be less political and he accepts, apologizing for his mistake and swearing that he understands what the blog is looking for now. Oliver then proceeds to somehow transition back into an endorsement of anarchism until the interviewer gives up and decides to leave him out of the article.
We're not actually sure who Norm likes the best from the Muppets cast because before we could get to Norm, Gingi (irate that Grover/Oscar the Grouch were rejected as its answer) told Norm about Big Bird dying in the Challenger explosion (which happened in DT's timeline), prompting Norm to get really upset and leave before his turn came up. Norm's favourite character is PROBABLY Sam Eagle, but now, we'll never get to know for sure. Thanks, Gingi.
Mingus, when asked, declined to answer out of sheer disinterest. Upon being shown a photo of the extended Muppet cast, she arbitrarily pointed to Robin the Frog and said "That one, I guess." Upon being asked why she would pick Kermit's nephew of all characters, her response was: "It's no business of mine who this frog is related to. Nobody is well-connected enough to ensure they'll live if I deem them a threat to my success." After being reminded that Robin is canonically a child, Mingus retorted by pointing out that Robin is, in fact, a fictional frog puppet. Not sure what to do with this answer, but we certainly can't include it.
Stabby + Shooty are asked for their favourites and they pick Statler and Waldorf respectively. When asked why, they explain it's because they're cool, wear suits, deliver CUTTING jabs, and each hang out with their best bro all day, not unlike themselves. The blog operator remarks: "Oh. I figured it was because, like you guys, they're kinda interchangeable and are pretty much overlooked by everyone", causing Stabby to angrily flip a table and storm out of the room. Shooty apologies meekly for his outburst and leaves to calm his companion down. The answer is not published as the interviewer had no clue which was Stabby and which was Shooty, thus being unable to accurately attribute the answers to either of them.
Bigfoot's favourite character turns out to be Animal, and this is the only answer that ends up being published.
Here's the finished article:
DIALTOWN ARTICLE, EACH OF THE CAST'S FAVOURITE MUPPETS: BIGFOOT'S IS ANIMAL.
The article only gets 3 likes.
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I took a ton of notes during my rewatch of 2x07 just now but the thing I kept coming back to again and again was Armand's framing of the entire narrative and how it plays with truth vs lies in such an insidious way it's honestly brilliant in its cruelty. Truth being used as a cudgel not only against Louis, but against Lestat as well. And against, us, the viewers at home.
We obviously all know Armand is a very powerful 500 year old vampire who is not going to be held back by an infant of a vampire like Santiago. Like… Armand. Babe. Let’s get real. But that’s the narrative set-up. The coven, now being led by Santiago, has Armand captive behind his little rickety baby gate with Sam and his prop weapon not letting the puppy come out to play. He cannot prevent it! Poor baby. Someone get him a juice box and a snack.
Enter Lestat. The vengeful lover come to make Louis and Claudia pay for what they did to him. What's interesting here is that everyone—Daniel, Louis, Armand—acknowledges in Dubai that the trial IS a sham from the beginning. A tool to allow Lestat his revenge. But the truth of why it's actually a sham is being hidden behind a thousand layers of gaslighting and deceit by Armand. Lestat is merely another prop on the stage. Being forced to use the TRUTH of his love story with Louis—and to twist essential elements of their beginning as a couple—as a weapon to drive the final wedge between them so that Armand might have Louis all to himself. That's what this is about. A farce so that Armand might have what he wants more than anything in the world. Someone who will be with him always. Without Claudia, without Lestat... who else is there for Louis to run to?
The trial as we see it is told mostly through Louis' POV. It seems to be a true picture of how it all happened but the cognitive dissonance watching him try to reconcile what Lestat was doing on the stage with the framing provided by Armand (who cuts in frequently to assure us that Lestat shapes things to suit HIS narrative) is painful. Louis sees and feels and hears the sincerity of Lestat. A Lestat who is defiant from the jump and refuses to paint the story as butchery. It's about LOVE. It is always always always about the love. An entire sham trial about vengeance and murder framed around... love.
Everyone who's familiar with the books already knows Lestat didn't want to be there. I won't go into that too much but the show did a good job of showing us just how unwell Lestat was during the entire process. But there are also some really interesting moments where we are TOLD explicitly through Louis' recounting of the events that Lestat was not actually there for revenge. Namely, the moment when Lestat says HE deserves to be punished alongside them. These are not the words of someone who is seeking vengeance. These are the words of someone desperately rattling the bars of his own cage trying everything he can to prevent what's happening. Because unlike a certain someone, in that moment Lestat is quite literally unable to prevent it!
The entire episode is Louis trying to reconcile the conflicting truths that exist inside him: that Lestat was there for revenge, that Armand couldn't prevent the coven from exacting their cruelty, and that the Lestat who was on stage WAS sincere and emotional and fighting with everything he had to let the truth ring as true as it was when he was able. He refused to refer to Louis as the accused every time Santiago insisted on it. He would only refer to Louis by name. He would NOT allow the narrative to frame him as someone who didn't also do monstrous things to his lover. He was weeping and flooded with shame. Sincerely, genuinely remorseful for the awful thing he had done to Louis.
There's also something else here about Lestat acknowledging he tried to crush what he could not own vs Armand deceiving Louis into the false sense of control that is the entire basis for their relationship. Owning something he does not crush, merely confines. He's not crushing Louis with insanity, he's locking him inside his prison of empathy. He quite literally has Louis locked in a cage while allowing him to believe he's truly free. Free from the insanity of Lestat. Evil, vengeful, gaslighting Lestat who only uses the truth to shape the narrative for himself.
There's a lot more going on here. I can't possibly get it all out of my brain right now and I imagine I'm going to be picking apart the nuances for a while. There are so many layers. The truth vs lies vs intentional reshaping of the truth of it all. But if you rewatch, pay attention to Armand's face, the score that accompanies his recounting of events, the passive way in which he holds his body in both Paris and Dubai. He's locking Louis in a dream world where the truth is present in such a way it only serves to amplify its own distortion. I don't even think he's fucking with Louis' memory all that much, just framing it in such a way that Louis cannot see past what is right there in front of him. What he already knows. If only he had just a few more tiny pieces of the puzzle...
But he's trying to get there. He is getting there. The truth of Lestat is breaking though. Lestat is still present there with him in Dubai, as real as if he were really in the room. After 74 years, Louis can still recall every detail of his face, still smile at him recalling the truth of his memories. The truth he wouldn't allow himself to look at all the way. The truth he himself had to distort for his own sake because it hurt too much. He's allowing himself to see not only the truth of himself and his own actions, but the truth of Lestat. All the complicated, sincere truth of him. The truth of the one who truly could not prevent it.
#interview with the vampire#interview with the vampire spoilers#iwtv meta#loustat#otp: all my love belongs to you#holly's can't shut up disease strikes again
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MIKE MUNROE - Dating Headcanons
UNTIL DAWN || Mike Munroe x reader
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he’s known not only by the group to be a player, but also by your entire school.
so when he started trying to talk to you a bit more, you were more than prepared to shut. it. down.
there was a sour ending between him and emily soon after hannah and beth’s disappearance, and at this rate, jessica too (she was clearly still hung up over their summer fling).
his confidence surpassed yours and he was relentless. joining you ashley and sam, uninvited and unexpected:
“hey guys, what’re we talking about” the brunette seats himself next to you, purposefully nudging your shoulder. “we were talking about y/n’s next cheer competition” sam sighs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms as mike slowly starts to put his arm around you, “erm- what is this?” ash points, glaring at your arm, causing you to look down to see his big, tan hands creeping around your shoulder. at an instant, you shrug him off as your face flushes red. this boy was going to be the death of you.
pulling you out of classes with white lies to your teachers:
“yeah, she needs to head to the attendance office” he beams his charming smile towards the teacher then winks at you. “what the fuck do you want?” you query with hands on your hips stepping out of your english lit class. “you.”
notes in your locker. but it as sweet as the action was, it didn’t phase you, you didn’t want to be his next side-piece:
roses are red, violets are blue. flowers mean shit, i want you.
me, you, a couple of beers and my dads garage?
why are you playing so hard to get, we’ve known each other for like forever. you only make me like you more.
eventually you’d received the painfully awkward video message from josh, opening his lodge up on mount blackwood for the winter.
you’d had message after message from the boy, invites and offers to take transport together, it was a little bit sad how hard he was trying, he usually breathes in a girl’s direction and they’re ready to chew his food for him.
so you accepted, you’d known him since you were 5 after all, what’s the harm?
and then it started, all with him asking to hold your hand on the ski lift, insisting his left hand was cold. pathetic but cute.
during this you were spotted by a wild josh, lively and charismatic as ever considering the circumstances, he made sure to let everybody within a 20 mile radius know of his suspicions upon the two of you.
the attention had its positives and negatives. jess didn’t approve, nor did sam. josh, chris and ashley were happy as ever. nobody ever knew what emily was really thinking so you tried your hardest to ignore it, whereas matt was glad mike was busy with anyone but his ex.
“soo… i think it’d be wrong not to ask you out right now.”
you honestly thought, from the deepest most sincere part of your heart, believed your were mike-proof. but through all his little tactics he managed to make you actually like him, romantically.
a lot of girls gave off the wrong impression of mike; man-whore, cheater, horndog. maybe they were the problem because you couldn’t ask for anyone better.
he cooks surprisingly well, though he refuses to wash up, he has some pretty good experience in the kitchen.
he doesn’t mind too much about what you do and where you go, maybe it’s because you’re the same with him, unlike one emily davis, “a human gps with my location on lock and an accusation weapon system activated”
he always smells good. he has gone through at least 4 of his favourite colognes within the past year, which also means you’ve got an easy birthday/Christmas present option.
weirdly enough, he loves going on shopping trips with you. you think he’s pretty useful fashion-wise whereas he always enjoys convincing you into ‘rating your clothes’, aka - watching his girlfriend undress while sitting in silence.
amongst these positives, you can only name one terrible feature with mike. he’s a snorer. not just a little soft breathy snore. it’s a full on mouth open, putting his entire body weight on you, speakers blasting snores. it could also easily be mistaken for a helicopter taking off.
eventually emily warms up to your relationship, managing to see eye to eye with you. you’ll never know what her ulterior motive is but you have enough trust in mike to bat off her ways.
#until dawn#until dawn x reader#mike munroe#mike munrow x reader#michael munroe#michael munroe x reader#until dawn mike#mike until dawn
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Conjure: (Sneak Peek)
Twins.
Noun. A person or thing that is exactly like the other.
They were born into this world from the same womb–only five minutes apart. Two brothers who share just about everything. Everything they did was done together, except for their school classes. Too chaotic to be in the same class together. The only time they were ever purposely separated, and not by their choice. They made pact when they were young, that since they came into this world together, they leave this world together.
Twenty-eight years came and went in a blur. They survived significant others that came and went, some staying longer than others. They were each others ride or die, no one could replace either one of them. They had their own best friends, but they were each other’s built in best friend from the start.
As the years went on, and the older they grew, they slowly became their own person with their own identity. Though they share all the same facial qualities, Jake wanted to be his own person. He was getting tired of people confusing him with Josh. He especially hated it when Josh tried to pretend to be him. So he grew out his hair while Josh typically kept his short and curly. They mutually decided to dress differently, growing tired of wearing matching outfits that their mother would put them in. His style grew different from Josh’s. While Josh was more hippie and international, Jake kept his casual and laid back. He became the emo twin, the long bangs and the hipster clothing. Even their music style had its slight differences, despite growing up around the same genres.
They even had different passions. Jake loved music. He learned how to play guitar a very young age, and it was the one thing that he stayed true to. He had dreams of playing music like his grandfather, but he wanted to be BIG. Have a band, compose his own songs, travel around the world while playing his music. Josh on the other hand, he dreamt of producing films. Come junior high and high school, he produced a few short films with the help of Jake, of course. He was also into theater, unlike Jake. He loved to act, loved to the center of attention, whereas Jake did not. Jake tended to hang out behind the scenes, keep to himself and just not be bothered unless he choose to be.
And while Jake practiced and practiced to get better at guitar, he helped Josh make his movies. He even acted in them, despite being the one who didn’t want to act. But Josh was the director and the producer, someone had to be the actor. So when Jake wasn’t behind the camera and capturing all the good shots for Josh, he was in front of the camera and doing his best as an actor.
Eventually Jake began to form his own band and since he helped Josh with his movies, Josh returned the favor and decided that he would help Jake with his music. Jake promised him that once they made it big and Josh was ready to step down, he would help Josh again with his film. And so they did just that. They roped in their younger brother Sam who learned to play the bass and taught himself how to play the keys. Eventually they brought on a good family friend, Danny–who also grew into being one of their brothers. Family. That’s what they were, and that’s what they always would be.
And for the next ten years, the twins were still together. They even moved in together for a while, even with their significant others, because they just couldn’t separate from each other.
Until Josh made the decision to move out with his partner. “It’s time,” He said. “We need our own spaces if we want our relationships to work..” He patted Jake on the shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m not that far, and besides, I’ll give you a key so you can come over whenever you want to.”
Though they lived apart now, they still were inseparable, even when they went on tour. They were always together.
“Can’t get rid of me that easily.” Josh joked one night as he handed Jake a glass of whiskey. “And apparently the same goes for you.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Nah, we made a pact. If you go down, I’m going down with you.”
Josh chuckles. “That silly ole pact, Jacob,” He sips on his wine. “I can’t believe you’re still holding onto that.”
Jake shrugs his shoulders and sips his whiskey. “I don’t think I could ever live a day without you…”
Little did he know that living without his twin forever was approaching faster than he was ever expecting…
Coming soon on 10/1 as part of Jaketober 👻
I fear that I have missed some people either here or in the comments. If I did, please let me know!! Tumblr won't let me tag or comment people all of a sudden!! I do apologize!! ♡
@watchingover-hypegirl @losfacedevil @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @writingcold @jaketlove @mackalah @lexii-nv-c @em-gvf01 @katiegvf @joshkiszkaenthusiast @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasmommy @objectsinspvce @gvfmarge @heckingfrick @bluemeadows77 @laneygvf @gvfpal @killerqueengvf @jordinlkiszka @alwaysonthemend @hellowgoodbye @anythingforjtk @hi-hi-hello11 @anthemofgvf @gretasfallingsky @songbirds-sweet @wildbluesorbit @klarxtr @stardustsecret @sunandthemoontwinflames @everyglowinthetwilightknows @devilat-thedoor @sparrowofthedawnsworld @josh-iamyour-mama @dannys-dream @peaceloveunitygvf @hollyco @tinydancer40 @edgingthedarkness @i-love-gvf @thewritingbeforesunrise @katuschka @sammysstolenbirks @asendingtothestarsasone @fleetingjake @emojakekiszka @literal-dead-leaf @klarxtr
#jaketober#conjure#mini series#paranormal#jake kiszka#greta van fleet#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet fanfic#jake kiszka fanfic#jake kiszka fic#gvf#ghosts
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hsr 2.2 opinions
The plot was great execution was mid.
Sorry this is pretty long 😭😭
Spoilers 👇
Sunday’s three acts were hella tedious. This gives me Kazuha domain in the golden apple arcepellago ptsd.
Sparkle is just unused its such a shame bc I absolutely love the Masked fools :(
After they “solve” the crisis, it’s too long I honestly lost all the hype bc I thought it ended. It was just waaaaay too long.
Firefly’s 3 deaths?? Hello? I wanted to see that not Sunday’s 3 acts.
They never explain why the Order is bad and the Harmony is good. I didn’t understand until the last part where it was like “oh they’re trying to mind control people.” like you’re telling me this NOW??
oh so much dialogue pls no more exposition
Im sorry but I don’t find Robin to be as likable as hoyo presents her as. She’s a sweet angel but they shove it in your throats so much it feels fake. She just got the short end of the stick when it comes to writing :( i would have loved her ngl I wished she got the same level of writing as her brother :((
Too many twists like it’s exhausting atp. Gallagher being evil would’ve been interesting ngl. Like what of Sunday and Gallagher and Sparkle teamed up???? Idk just a thought. Also “dormancy” is disappointing. IM SORRY I LIKE EVIL GALLAGHER
Maybe unpopular opinion but too much Acheron. I feel like Firefly should’ve had a bigger focus like we forget abt her in the later half.
And the domain things. God they are so unnecessarily long. The one with with the Trailblazer and Firefly was just so so tedious.
Oh so so so much unnecessary dialogue guys please shut up
The Trailblazer taking the Harmony’s side feels forced like bro why??? Theres sm exposition and no explanation. They just go “Bc freedom!!” And…??? What else??? Robin just went “This is wrong” and we hopped on board. Now Robin is justifiable bc she did her research, being her idealist self, and shes a side character so I’m okay with her not having the full spotlight.
Why did Elio send Firefly/SAM to Penacony anyways?
Jade just went “oh Aventurine lets cook some shit up in thr next update” and left
again, pls elaborate on why the Order is bad I got one example
Also I feel like Aventurine was like a footnote im def biased towards my baby boy but :(
Im sorry the main cast is just unlikeable imo they don’t justify their actions and just ride on the ideal of freedom and nothing else. They use the same argument of “bc people deserve to live and choose” and its tiring hearing them say that 10 times they just lacked depth.
Also shaoqi who writes for hi3 wrote this and hi3 is very visual novel esque and it works in hi3 bc its very story driven but it just doesn’t in hsr.
Now the good things
I love the consistent characterization. Sunday acted just as I predicted during the quest so yay
I really like Sunday as a character. ALSO WHY DID HE FALL AT THE END I GOT SCARA PTSD
I like how even though Gallagher is on our side he’s pretty morally gray (he’s a history fictionalogists i hate those shits if you can’t tell I would follow the erudition so they piss me off sm)
We stan boothill live laugh love space cowboys
The idea of the story is amazing though like in general
In conclusion, I think they tried to do everything and forgot about domains being the bane of players’ existence and making stuff make sense. The execution just leaves me feeling overwhelmed and unsatisfied at the same time. Ngl I think 2.1 just built up way too much hype.
#Hsr#hsr 2.2#Honkai star rail#honkai star rail 2.2#hsr spoilers#honkai star rail spoilers#hsr boothill#boothill honkai star rail#Boothill#hsr sunday#sunday honkai star rail#sunday#hsr robin#robin honkai star rail#hsr aventurine#aventurine honkai star rail#aventurine#hsr gallagher#gallagher#gallagher honkai star rail#sparkle hsr#sparkle honkai star rail#penacony#penacony hsr#penacony spoilers#firefly hsr#sam hsr#firefly honkai star rail#sam honkai star rail
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Regarding tmagp 22
First, to get it out of the way: WHAT THE FUCK???? JONATHAN SIMS AND MARTIN BLACKWOOD?????
Secondly, i feel really bad for sam! His two romantic interests are clearly manipulating him, one wants him to drop his obsession "for his own good" while the other encourages it to get what she wants.
Alice got him this job either to get help solving the mysteries (unlikely imo, as from the start she doesn't care at all and knows that not caring is what kept her alive) or to rekindle what they had. My favourite theory is the latter, being stuck in a basement during the night with your ex might help to redevelop romantic interests. She got to be in a position of power over Sam (which she enjoys) by showing him how the oiar works and by being the source of confort or guidance when things get bad (plus they work at night, thus making him tired as his circadian rythm is completely screwed and on very horrifying topics, making him more likely to search for comfort and to make irrational decisions like going back to his ex).
Alice likes being in that position, as we saw with colin, her brother and teddy. She funds her brothers band, she goes to colin's flat to make sure he's alright and she pesters teddy until he accepts to go grab a drink, which (imo) he was reluctant to do. This way of functioning is not healthy, as she seems to think the only way she can get affection is by being a "paternalist / motherly" figure in her friends life. "If i do all of that for them theyll have no choice but to like me and to do what i say"
Its toxic, even if she probably genuinely wants to help, because her "help" is tool to mold her friends in what she wants them to be. For example: she goes to the magnus institute with sam (help) and when he doesnt find what hes looking for she tries really hard to get him to drop his obsession (control).
And his second romantic interest is celia, who is not from his universe and who has a plan that needs Sam's obsession. I stopped liking her when she started to explicitely compete with Alice. I dont remember which episode it was, but Sam invites Celia to go to the theater with him. She starts the interaction clearly not interested (saying "no i dont think i dropped tickets, theyre not mine", trying to gently reject him), then Alice, having overheard the conversation, invites them to go to her brothers concert the same night. After that, Celia seems to completely change her tune and accepts Sam's offer. That way, he doesnt go to the concert (distancing him from alice) and she has the audacity to ghost him.
Let's be cristal clear: both of them were trying to manipulated the poor guy and none were in the right. Alice tries to manipulate him to drop his obsession to get him out of harm's way (and into her her arms WINK WINK). But Celia is manipulating Sam through his feelings, which imo she doesn't reciprocate, to get him to do something that will probably hurt him and help her quest (whatever it might be). She's always pretty distant towards him, except when they start talking about the institute, then her attitude changes and shes pationate and almost flirty. The fond memory Sam has of their first date is due to them talking about work for gods sake! Other than in those occasions, she seems to me pretty cold and sarcastic when Sam is being goofy to make her like him.
So yeah, the poor beholder is stuck between two spiders.
Finally, poor Gwen! The second blorbo of the show after sam. However, i dont think Lena and the oiar are the equivalent of the institute. Sure, they both have a departement reading statements, but the oiar is proactive, sorting them and deploying externals or protocols to clean what groups seem to be too close to a ritual. The institute just reads them for the Beholder and (until gertrude) never did anything to prevent the rituals. I dont think Lena is trying to make Gwen into an "archivist", she just wants her to do her job and manage externals. She doesn't encourage any curiosity, just the processing and administrative work. And Gwen doesnt seem that aligned to the Beholder anyway, she wants to be the best at her job, and her job doesnt want her to be curious.
(Also i love augustus but i miss the voice of Elias :(((( )
#tmagp#the magnus protocol#the magnus archive#samama khalid#alice dyer#gwen bouchard#celia ripley#lena kelley#tma#oiar#jon sims#martin blackwood
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Goodnight, Mom
HBO ELLIE WILLIAMS X MotherFigure!Reader
This character is under 18 so the relationship is PLATONIC
Summary: After you help her down from a panic attack, Ellie calls you Mom for the first time.
Contents: mentions of David, trauma response, Ellie isolates herself, Night terror, Panic attack, Panic attack comfort.
A/N: I re-watched the last of us, and omg I need to comfort this bby so bad.
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Ellie was such a ray of sunshine, so funny, so fiesty, so sweet. But ever since what happened with David, she just wasn't herself. She was quiet, reclusive and she never left her room, you went upstairs with a tray of food three times a day and left it outside her door, only returning an hour later to see it half eaten and abandoned in the same place you left it.
You missed her. You missed your walking boost of serotonin. Joel, Tess and you had been given her by the fireflies, you were all friends aswell as coworkers, well Joel and Tess had a little fling going on- but to each their own. She was so cute when you first met eachother, her little pocket knife and her messy brown hair.
And ever since you were assigned her as 'cargo', you hadn't been the same. The 14 year old immediately took a liking to you, and you to her. She stuck by your side through everything, you were practically attached by the hip.
She was with you when Tess died, when you tried to find Bill and Frank, when you met Henry and Sam, and when Joel told you he would no longer be coming with you. Ellie was your shadow, always lurking around watching you, smiling in admiration when you killed some infected in a particularly impressive way.
And that's why, after David, you couldn't bring yourself to deliver Ellie to the fireflies. You weren't stupid, you had a degree in biology for fucks sake, you knew- deep down that Ellie wouldn't make it out of that operating room. You knew she would want the truth and so you told her the truth.
Sitting in an old rusted car, driving down an abandoned highway back to Jackson you told her. She was conflicted- her life? For the world's? She was inclined to say yes. However, once you reminded her of the reality- it was unlikely it would work, and if it did it would be used as a political weapon against Fedra, and probably wouldn't see another person after its initial creation.
Once you made it back to Wyoming, you both settled down. Maria gifted you an old run down house to take on as your own.
When Ellie isolated herself in her room, you knew you had to leave her to it. She went through a traumatic experience and she deserved the time by herself to heal, no matter how much you were worried about her.
So, to take your mind of it, you went on patrols and found paint, old books, decorations and lights to try and make the house a home, and you think that you did that successfully. You painted the kitchen cabinets, reupholstered all the stools and couches. Added string lights in the living room and your bedroom to make it more cozy, and added potted plants around the house to bring the outside in.
After about 2 weeks the only room left to decorate was Ellie's. You had a large can of pale blue paint, and had collected a lot of posters of 70s-80s bands she had info-dumped about a while back.
It was night time, 10pm to be exact and you were exhausted- you did your usual routine, applying a moisturizer on your face and brushing your teeth before heading towards Ellie's door.
A small crack of warm light came out from underneath the wooden paneled door. Your first knocked onto the wood,
"you alright in there sweetheart?" you spoke softly, earning just a hum in response. "Well I'm going to sleep now- if you need anything don't be afraid just come wake me up"
"night y/n" Ellie's voice spoke quietly from the other side, if your ear wasn't pressed up against the panels you wouldn't of heard it. "Goodnight Ellie."
••••••••
At first the sound of Ellie's screams were no surprise, you often heard her sobbing, begging and pleading in your dreams, but this one was different it was clearer than usual.
Eyes flittering open and reaching over to your bed side table, you flicked on the reading lamp and blinked as your eyes adjusted to the warm golden light the bulb emitted. It did not take long for you to realize that the cries were very much real, and very much coming from Ellie's room across the hall.
Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you scrambled out of bed and across the landing, swinging open the oak door that lead into the teenagers room. You hurried over to her bedside, turning on the table lamp so you could see Ellie fully.
Her body was writhing, her hands clawing at her own skin subconsciously. Her eyes remained closed, she was still asleep. Shit. First things first, let's make sure she doesn't hurt herself. You took her hands in yours, ever so softly, stroking your thumb against her palms reassuringly. You began speaking to her, trying to rouse her from her sleep as she began to fight against you.
"Baby- Ellie, it's just me Babygirl" you said, louder than you usually would. "You gotta wake up for my sweetheart."
After about a minute her eyes opened slowly- however there was a deep-rooted anger in them at first, for a split second she thought that you were him. She went to push you off of her.
"Sweetheart- sweetheart, it's just me Babygirl, it's just me." You comforted. Ellie's eyes softened, her angry screaming turning into words made incoherent by her relentless sobbing. You took a seat next to her on the single bed mattress, allowing Ellie's arms to wrap securely around your waist.
Her chest heaved- breathing quick and unsteadily. "5 things you can see, you know the drill" you told her, hands tangling into the brunette hair that laid in your lap.
"I can see... You, my sketches on the wall, my pencils, the moon out of my window and my comic book." She trembled through shaky breaths.
"Good Girl. Now, four things you can feel?"
"my bed sheets, your t-shirt, your hand in my hair and the socks on my feet." She spoke calmer this time, but the sniffles and occasional sob still left her lips.
"Well done sweetheart, three things you can hear."
"The clock ticking, your breathing, and my sniffles"
"Mhm.. and two things you can smell?"
"Your new soap and the smell of freshly clean laundry"
"And lastly, one thing you can taste"
"My toothpaste" she says, her breathing had now slowed and her sobs turned into the occasional sniffle.
"Well done Ellie, in so proud of you" you hummed, you pecked her forehead lightly- and grinned when you saw the hint of a smile grace her face.
"Can you stay with me till I fall asleep?" She whispered, looking up at you. "Course I can." you replied before shuffling onto the bed in a comfier position.
Ellie's face, still damp from tears buried itself in the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around you like her life depended on it.
"Goodnight Ellie".
"Goodnight Mom".
--------------
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#ellie williams#ellie williams fic#ellie williams x fem!reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x reader#the last of us#ellie x reader#mom!reader#mother!reader#maternal!reader#parent au#found family#tlou headcanons#tlou fic#tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie williams headcanons#ellie x platonic!reader#platonic#mother figure#MotherFigure!reader#bella ramsey#bella ramsey x reader
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Rumors pt2
Part 1. Part 2(colby ver.)
hi, this is rumors part 2 but sams version. if you liked part 1 go ahead n click the link above where i have listed both parts.
Summary: You and colby got into a fight after rumors about your relationship spread online and sam intervenes, something unpredictable happens.
bold text: colby
normal text: sam
italics: y/n
r/n is a random girl. just think of a name.
—
3rd pov.
Next morning was even worse. You had no clue where Colby even was, he just like…disappeared. You spent the morning with sam, since he was there for you all night, taking you food, comforting you, basically being the only one that was there. You loved him for that, he was so sweet even when you had massive fights with colby but colby woul get jealous because of that reason. It always caused fights between you too and sam would just distance himself from you since he didnt want to ruin his friendship.
Mostly spending time with sam, you realized that deep down you really cared and appreciated him. You can’t say you see him as a friend but more than that. It’s always been like this, at one point there was a love triangle between the three of you and you choose colby because your love was strong for him. Maybe not. Sam cared so much for you, he would die for you, do anything for you. He had such a soft spot for you, unlike colby, he ignored girls because of how in love he was with you.
Later that day, you went shopping with sam just lift up your mood, chitchatting, and laughing with sam until two particular faces came into view and ruined your mood. Colby and R/n. Disgust filled your face and soon as R/n tries coming up to you. Sams face filled with worry turns to you making sure you dont act out.
“im fine sam..” you whisper to him, you turn towards her and say hi, fake smiling. “HI Y/N” she screeched excitedly.
“this bitch”
“hey guys, sorry we can’t chitchat we have to go byeee!” sam says while he drags me out of there. You look back at Colby, while he stares at you with no expression.
“you really need to talk it out with him” “i know”
—
You’re laying down in your shared bed with colby, when he walks in and slams the door. You jolt up when the loud slam happened. “what the fuck?” you shout. It was late, there shouldn’t be any ruckus happening. You can tell he had been drinking by the way he was standing, he always got aggressive when he was tipsy.
“what? what kind of fucking problem do you have?” colby shouts. Guessing sam was near, you try to calm him down. “geez colby chill out, no need to scream when you’re the problem.”
“the fuck do you mean?, im the problem? how?, youre the one acting bitchy and ignoring me.”
“I KNOW YOU DONT CARE YOU NEVER CARED…you care more about her than me..” your voice got quiet as the tears slip down, blurring your vision. Colby raised his to slap you, but before he could sam came in charging at him tackling him to the ground.
“don’t you dare put a hand on her.” Sam growled, pinning colbys arms down. You rushed out, grabbing your phone and a blanket and ran into sams room. You sobbed and sobbed, not even noticing sam walk in until you felt his arms around you.
—
1st pov.
—
“its okay y/n its okay…” Sam hushes while he put a hand through your hair. It soothes me, i always feel safe with sam. I cant say the same for colby.
“im sorry sam, i didnt mean for this to happen..” i whisper into his chest, he tighted his grip around me.
“it doesnt matter. just know that im here and i will always love you.” sam says getting quieter towards the end. I lift my head with a puzzled look. Of course i knew, i knew he loved me. Ever since we were kids.
“i love you more.” I say, grinning with a growing blush across my cheeks. Our faces got closer and closer eventually our noses were touching.
“you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this.” sam whispered with a grin. Our lips connected softly, it didnt feel forced it felt passionate. I felt his hand trickle its way up to my jawline, the kiss got slower and slower until we pulled away. We stared at each other while we caught our breath. I’ve never felt this way before with no one. He made me feel different. I loved him.
I guess colby and i aren’t together.
—
hiii, okay so this sams version since @blogcybr requested it!! thank you i honestly like this one better🥰.
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Our Death Was The Start (Til Death Do Us Part)
When two similar people die at the same time in similar ways, their souls may end up tied together in the afterlife, connecting them in a way that almost nothing can break. Danny Fenton dies screaming in pain, hoping for help that won't come. At the same time, Jason Todd dies with a scream caught in his throat, hoping for help that comes too late. Danny comes back to half life. Not even the boundary of death will stop Jason from doing the same
Danny did not remember much from the moments when he died. He remembered pain, a searing, burning, tearing pain that was impossible to put into words. He remembered green unlike he had ever seen before, a green that seemed to be more than just color as it pushed its way into his eyes, his nose, his throat. He remembered screams. One was his, but he couldn’t tell you which one it was. He remembered some small part of his mind, the only part not drowned out by green and pain and noise, praying and hoping and dreaming that someone would come and help him, to save him, to stop the pain.
Nobody came.
(That doesn’t mean nobody answered)
—
Jason remembered far too much about how he died. He remembered every broken bone, every maniacal laugh from a split, bleach white face. He remembered every thought and prayer and plea he sent to the shadows on the ceiling, that one of them would morph into Batman, into Bruce, into his father. He remembered how even as the timer on the bomb ticked lower and lower, and the shadows remained stubbornly unmoving, how he had still had hope. He remembered the fire and the force of the explosion, and he remembered his scream, channeling everything he could into calling out for help, for someone to save him.
Nobody came.
(That doesn’t mean nobody heard.)
—
Sam and Tucker had tried their best to calm him down afterwards, swallowing down their own horrified expressions to try and comfort him. They helped! They really did. But they didn’t know what was going on anymore than he did. They were lucky that his parents had gone out with Jazz when it all went down. If they had been home, there would be no hiding it. If they had been scheduled to come back soon, they would have noticed something.
Instead, the three of them had a few hours before anyone else would arrive at the Fenton house, and the few hours was enough for Danny to change back into himself (it was both relieving and horrifying that he could do that. A relief because that meant he wasn’t dead, right? But if he could do that, what did that make him?) and for his breathing to return to normal (Five breaths a minute was not normal, but anymore and he felt like he was panicking, gasping for air that he didn’t need. At least he was still breathing.)
His parents came home a little happier than they had been when they left, but their heads still hung low. Jazz didn’t look much better.
“So we have some good news,” Tucker said from his spot on the couch almost the moment they walked through the door. They had talked for a while about how to break the news to the Fenton’s. Danny had tried to convince them that he should be the one to say it, but he couldn’t get through it without his voice cracking and his body shaking. That, and his voice was almost gone, vocal cords screamed raw.
“We know that you said we weren’t supposed to go downstairs without you guys, but we were just so curious about how it worked, and we wanted to see,” Sam said. “Turns out, you forgot to plug it in! It’s working now.”
As Danny had expected, neither of his parents verbally responded to that, instead opting to run down to the basement, nearly walking over each other in their rush to get down the stairs. Jazz did not follow them.
“You three really shouldn’t have gone down there!” she stated, pointing at the three of them. “You especially, mister!” Her gaze landed on Danny, and he suppressed a flinch. “I know that Mom and Dad have always been lax about lab safety and all of that, but you should still know better than to go down to a potential electrical hazard without supervision. What if one of you had gotten hurt?” None of them could stop the looks they sent to each other, and Jazz didn’t miss them. Her gaze hardened further. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing serious!” Tucker said quickly. Too quickly. “Danny got a little shocked. But it was like, nothing more than static electricity type shock, you know?”
Jazz’s gaze softened just a little. “Are you ok?” Danny nodded his head. “Are you sure? How about mentally? Even a small shock can be traumatizing if it was in the wrong situation.”
“I’m fine, Jazz,” Danny said. He kept his voice soft, so the unhealthy rasp to it wasn’t noticeable. Her eyes softened as she reached over the back of the couch to hug him. He bit his tongue to suppress a flinch, and returned the hug the best he could at the awkward angle.
“I’ll trust you,” Jazz said as she pulled away. “Don’t make me regret that. Now, what do you want for dinner? I doubt Mom and Dad will be emerging from the basement any time soon.”
Sam and Tucker decided to stay for a dinner of chinese takeout from a place Sam chose. One of them was always pressed up against his side, always talking in easy, light hearted conversations. It was easy, to lose himself in the conversation, to not think about what happened to him.
It was less easy, when they both went home for the night. They had wanted to sleep over, but neither of them were able to get their parents to allow them on such short notice. (They both offered to sneak out and stay with him anyway, parents be damned. He told them not to. Amity Park was not a dangerous city, but they still shouldn’t be walking around alone in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t be safe. He needed them to be safe.)
Sleep did not come easily to Danny. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw blinding, burning, searing green. Every time he opened them again, his ceiling was illuminated with the same green, illuminated by a light that came from his eyes. It took hours for Danny to fall into an uneasy sleep, and he’s certain it will be full of nightmares.
It’s not. Instead, Danny dreams of a boy.
He looked to be just barely older than Danny, and just as scrawny, at least at first glance. His hair was black, with a single white streak towards the front, draping over his sleeping face. The weirdest thing about him was the outfit, all bright yellows, reds and greens, with a very noticeable lack of pants and an equally noticeable domino mask covering his eyes. In any other circumstance, it would have been an incredibly memorable, and likely concerning, outfit. But with everything that had been happening, it was so far down on his list of “Weird Things Happening Recently” that he barely even processed it.
He was much more distracted to find himself with snow white hair and the hazmat suit he had been wearing when- he stopped the thought there. He spent an hour trying to change back to himself, then panicking about not being able to, then calming himself down after he figured out that it was a dream. After all, what else could it be?
Danny would have started to explore the dream, or do literally anything else besides sit there, if there was anything else to do. All that surrounded him was an empty black void, broken only by the sleeping boy. Maybe there was something further away from the boy, off into the darkness, but Danny didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to leave him alone. The boy looked peaceful, but something in his chest insisted that he wasn’t, that something was terribly wrong, so Danny sat next to him, cross legged, and waited.
It was an odd dream, one that seemed to drag on for hours and hours. Danny awoke from it slowly. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, clearing the face that he had been staring at for who knows how long out of his vision. He didn’t recognize where he was.
Danny was wide awake in a heartbeat, sitting upright with a start, only to hit his head against the wooden beams mere inches above him. He muffled a cry of pain, reaching his hand up to his head, and taking stock of his surroundings. Now that he was more awake, he began to recognize bits and pieces of his room. He had somehow managed to get under his bed.
He tried to roll to the side, only to find that his leg was stuck. Danny’s eyes traced his leg in the not-quite darkness, finding it stuck in his bed. His breath caught in his lungs. It wasn’t stuck in the covers, or tangled in the boards of his bed frame. It went straight through all of them, as if they weren’t even there. He tried to pull his leg out from the bed, but it was completely stuck.
It took Danny the better part of 15 minutes to get his leg free. It didn’t calm him any when he did, seeing as he had pushed his leg through the bed, once again as if it wasn’t even there. He rolled out from the bottom of the bed, grabbing at his carpet and coughing away the dust that had accumulated under the bed. Danny scrambled for the phone, typing in Tucker’s number as quickly as he could with his shaking hands.
It had barely rung before Tucker picked up. “Are you ok? What happened?”
“I don’t even know,” Danny said, his voice shaky, his words coming to fast. “I woke up under my bed with my leg stuck through the mattress. I don’t know what to do.”
“We’ll figure it out. I can get my parents to pick you up if you don’t want to walk. I assume your parents won’t mind?”
Danny didn’t even need to check where his parents were; he could hear the sound of them clanging around in the lab downstairs. (He could hear the whirring of copious amounts of electricity. He could hear the swirling sounds of the portal. He could hear Jazz shifting in her bed in the next room over. He shouldn’t be able to hear all of this.) “Yea. Call Sam?”
“Of course man.”
—
The day was long, and hectic, but Danny was able to keep himself from falling through anything solid for the whole day. Tucker had offered to let him sleep over his house to try and help him, and while Sam’s parents had vehemently refused, she had promised to sneak out sometime during the night to hang out for a while. So when Danny fell asleep that night, it was in a sleeping bag on Tucker’s floor, closer to sunrise than sunset, with the soothing sounds of Doom’s start up menu playing in the background.
Danny dreamed of the boy again. This time, he didn’t panic over his hair or his outfit. He didn’t bother trying to look around the area to figure out where he was. He didn’t bother with much of anything besides settling into the same place he had taken last night. Knowing that this was a dream, that none of this was real, made it far easier for him to put aside the parts of him protesting that this was wrong. It didn’t need to make sense, didn’t need to be right, since none of it was real.
(It allowed him to write off the vibrations coming from just below his chest, tucked behind his ribcage, as an oddity from his dream. It allowed him to excuse the soul deep satisfaction that staying vigil by the boy’s side filled him with. Dreams were weird. This one was no different.)
The hours passed slowly, at least for a dream, but Danny didn’t mind it. The tranquility ended abruptly by the sound of Mrs. Foley’s voice.
“What are you doing down here?” Her voice cut through Danny’s dream, and he opened his eyes to see the Foley’s living room ceiling, with Mrs. Foley’s concerned face looking down at him. He sat up quickly, looking down at himself. None of his limbs were stuck through the floor, which was a good thing, and the couch was next to him.
“Uhh…” Danny fumbled through his sleep-addled brain for a believable lie. “I didn’t feel like sleeping on the floor, so I slept on the couch instead. Fat lot of luck that did me?” Danny gave an awkward laugh. Relief flooded him when Mrs. Foley joined in.
“I think that we have a yoga mat in the attic somewhere,” she said, helping Danny to his feet. “If it’s an issue next time, I’m sure one of us can find it. We don’t need any more tripping hazards in this house!” She made her way into the kitchen. “I’m thinking of making pancakes for breakfast. Let Tucker know that if he’s up and ready in the next 10 minutes, I’ll make bacon for him too.”
Danny gave a quick thumbs up, before scurrying back to Tucker’s room, directly above where he had woken up. He was lucky; he didn’t want to know what would have happened if he had been found on the kitchen floor. Or worse, halfway through the kitchen ceiling.
Tucker was, as Danny had expected, still passed out on his bed, drool gathering in a little puddle on his pillow and blankets tangled around his feet. And the bed posts, somehow. Danny didn’t bother trying to wake him up quietly. Nothing short of an earthquake would wake Tucker up. And maybe the promise of bacon, but that was more a “stay awake” bribe than a “wake up” bribe. So Danny did what he’d done at almost every sleepover he’d had with Tucker over the years. He climbed up on the bed and started jumping.
The bedframe creaked protestingly at Danny’s weight, the mattress shaking violently beneath him. Still, Tucker didn’t stir. Danny jumped harder, and higher, putting more force into each of his bounces, determined to get Tucker out of bed. Tucker rolled over in his sleep, grabbing the non-drool soaked pillow and flipping it over his head. That was a good sign; just a little while longer and-
Danny’s feet didn’t touch the bed. They didn’t touch anything. He just hung, suspended in air, hovering over Tucker’s bed. He’d gone ziplining before, knew how it felt to be strung up, still feeling the tug of gravity even as you’re safely tucked in a mess of lines and harnesses. He’d been in a low gravity chamber, once, when he was little, and that still didn’t seem comparable to this. He couldn’t describe it. He’d never experienced anything like this before.
(That was a lie. He remembered when he couldn’t get himself to the ground right after the portal. He didn’t think about that. He wouldn’t. But the memory brought with it a scream echoing in the back of his head, in the back of his throat, and it took all his power to bite it back down.)
Tucker sat up in the bed, rubbing at his still closed eyes, hair pointing every possible direction. “And here I thought you’d never give up,” he said through a yawn.
“Tucker,” Danny said, voice nothing more than a panicked, strained whisper.
“Mhum?” Tucker mumbled. Finally, he opened his eyes. He wasn’t able to suppress the yelp of surprise, before he clamped his hands shut over his mouth. Slowly, he removed them. “How are you doing that?”
“I don’t know,” Danny hissed. “I don’t know how to stop doing it either!”
“You’re not going to like, drift away or anything? Because I don’t know what I’d do if you started floating away like a lost balloon.”
“I don’t think so?” Danny said. He gave a hesitant spin in the air. It was easy. Far easier than it should have been. “I think I can control it ok? Maybe if I just…” He moved over to the side of the bed so that he was hovering over the floor, and slowly started to will himself to the ground. It worked, his descent slow, controlled. And then his foot met the floor, and kept going.
Danny froze with the floor up to his ankle. “Tuck…” The two of them met eyes. Tucker drew in a sharp breath. He reached out with one hand, grabbing onto Danny’s shoulder. His grip tightened when his hand didn’t phase through Danny’s shoulder, grabbing tightly and pulling. Danny’s foot came out of the floor, and the two of them stumbled back. This time, Danny didn’t slip through the floor.
Danny blinked back panicked tears. “What’s wrong with me?”
Tucker was silent for a moment. “I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out, ok? You’ll be ok.” Danny nodded.
“Boys! If you want bacon, you have two minutes to get your butts downstairs!” Mrs. Foley’s voice called out from downstairs. Tucker and Danny shared a look. They’d figure it out. Right now, bacon was more important.
—
Over the next few weeks, Danny’s life only got more and more chaotic. He’d had to go home after spending the night with Tucker, mostly because Danny couldn’t get a hold of his parents over the phone. He wasn’t surprised at that; he doubted they’d come up from the lab since the portal turned on, doubted that they’d even slept since then. They wouldn’t stop their research for something like the phone ringing.
(They wouldn’t stop their research for him.)
It was lucky, in some ways, that they stayed sequestered away in the basement over the next week before school started back up, because Danny’s powers had only gotten progressively worse. He had taken to using straws and only straws whenever he got a drink, to minimize the amount of time he was holding the glasses. He’d deep cleaned the bottom of his bed, pulled out the old hoodie and battered up shoe box of model parts he’d had spares of. It was uncomfortable to wake up every night in a pile of dust and junk every night, especially when he still had to wrestle various body parts out of his bed frame.
The only part that had stayed consistent and peaceful since the “accident”, as Sam, Tucker, and he started calling it, was the dream. It was always the same; the boy sleeping, the darkness, comforting in its completeness, and Danny, keeping watch over him. After the third night, Danny started to talk. It wasn’t quite to the boy; that would insinuate that the boy could hear him, and Danny didn’t think that he could. Even if he wasn’t talking to the boy, he was talking at him.
It was never anything serious, at least to begin with. It was little details, about Danny’s life, his friends, his family. Once school started back up, he talked about classes and teachers, about Dash.
And then the ghost animals started coming through, and Danny’s dreaming rambles became a lot more serious. He had talked about it with Sam and Tucker, of course, but he couldn’t tell them everything. He couldn’t tell them about the sensation in his chest, so cold it burned, when the two of them had been in danger. He couldn’t tell them about the fear that was gnawing at him from the inside when the creatures scratched him and he bled the same color they did. He couldn’t tell them about how the newly functioning Fenton Thermos always seemed to draw him in too, when he used it. He couldn’t tell them how scared he was about what it all meant.
(How was Danny supposed to say that he thought he had died? That they had watched him die? His heart still beat, he knew that much. He tested it himself, when he was awake. But he was like these creatures, and these creatures were dead. What did that make him?)
The boy did not move during any of the nights. He just slept on, with an expression far too peaceful on his face. The boy listened, even if he didn’t react.
(The boy hadn’t always listened. Danny didn’t know why he knew, with such undying certainty, that the boy was listening now. But he was. Danny was sure of it.)
Maybe it was because it was the only sense of routine that Danny had anymore that made him not tell Sam and Tucker about it. The reasoning sounded like something Jazz would say, which tended to mean it was at least somewhat correct, even if it was annoying. It wasn’t that Danny didn’t trust the two of them about it, but every other part of his new powers was something that the three of them had spent picking apart. They had spent hours trying to figure out how they worked and how to control them, and Danny was incredibly grateful. He didn’t know how he’d go through it alone. But the dreams…
They seemed intimate in a way he couldn’t describe. Personal. He didn’t want anyone else to go poking around the dreams, didn’t want anyone to disturb them or the boy that slept inside of them. They were just dreams, after all. What harm could they do?
It was the night after the Lunch Lady fiasco. Danny had gone to bed with a nasty bruise on his side and an existential crisis a mile wide. He’d never seen a humanoid ghost before that. He’d never been recognized as a ghost before, especially not by someone who would, presumably, have that same “ghost sense” that he did.
Danny laid back in the darkness, hovering next to where the boy laid. He spoke softly, even as his thoughts ran away from him. It was hard to panic, next to him.
And then the boy sat up, and panic suddenly came a whole lot easier.
---
@maddoxarcane @justhauntley @silicon-puppy-pudding @isis-
I won't be doing a tag list past this first chapter. I'll be tagging it on my blog as ODWTS, and am aiming to post updates every other Wednesday. We'll see how that goes.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc fanfic#dead on main#dead on main ship#jason todd/danny phantom#jason todd/danny fenton#soulmate au#ODWTS#dc x dp#dc x dp fic
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The Pirate Queen
Chapter 8 - The Rescue of Elizabeth
Author’s Note: I am so sorry this took me so long!!
In that moment she wasn’t afraid, more exhausted. The anxiety that had plagued her was more than enough for her liking. Everyone had to die someday, maybe today was hers. At least Sam was waiting on the other side.
She stood with a stretch before pulling her jacket around her and making her way toward the doors. Locked. Of course.
Clenching her jaw she listened carefully to the shouts of the men on deck. They had clearly found something and now she was worried.
Alice began pacing back and forth. Her mind wandered to if she could break the lock on the door, but what could, or even would, that do.
“Commodore!” The man who stood outside her prison said quickly. Alice moved back to the bed and sat down as the door opened. Norrington walked in. He was in full dress, the wig replaced, and the door shut quickly behind him. Alice would have been lying if she said his blue eyes didn’t make her heart race. If the idea of being close to him wasn’t everything she wanted.
“We have found an island.” He said quickly. “There was a thick plume of smoke rising from it.” He began to explain.
“James…” Alice said quickly and he looked to her. “Get to it.”
“We sent a boat ashore and it is Elizabeth.” James let out a sigh or relief. “She is with Jack Sparrow. They are bringing both of them aboard now.”
Alice took a breath and then gave him a small smile. “The Navy has found her. Thank the heavens.”
“Indeed.” Norrington replied. “They are bringing her aboard now. I know you two are friends. Would you come and greet her?”
Alice thought for a moment before quickly nodding her head yes. It was no secret that Alice grew to absolutely care for Elizabeth.
“Good.” Norrington said quickly and he walked to the door, giving it three quick knocks. The officer outside opened it. “Please?” Norrington offered his arm to Alice and the two of them walked on deck. It seemed the sailors were told to avoid her gaze as all of them began to look down. A few brave ones eyes followed her.
The longboat bringing the rescued back had already made its way to the ship. Alice was left against a railing before Norrington took his place beside Groves. It seemed an eternity and simultaneously a moment before Elizabeth and Sparrow were on board.
The first person Elizabeth went for was her father - who had avoided eye contact with Alice as much as he could. Still, when his daughter hugged him his features softened and Alice could tell how genuinely happy he was to be holding his daughter.
“Frances!” The use of her fake name caught her off guard, but she had no time to think before Elizabeth’s arms were around her and holding her impossibly tight.
“I am relieved you are alright, Elizabeth.” Alice said to her as the younger woman pulled from her grasp with a kind smile. Elizabeth moved once again toward her father as Jack Sparrow was brought on board. His eyes went from one person to the next until he fell on Alice and gave her a wide grin.
“We must head for Port Royal.” Governor Swann said quickly.
“But we have to got save Will!” Elizabeth argues.
“No!” Governor Swann interrupted. “You’re safe now. We will return to Port Royal immediately. Not go gallivanting after pirates.”
“Then we condemn him to death!” Elizabeth argued.
“The boys fate is regrettable.” Governor Swann tried to placate her. “But then so is his decision to engage in piracy.” Alice rolled her eyes and immediately took a slight step toward Jack.
“To rescue me!” Elizabeth pushed. “To prevent anything from happening to me!”
Alice felt Jack beginning to step forward. “Jack, don’t-“
“If I may be so bold as to interject my professional opinion.” Jack started as he walked toward Norrington and the Governor. Alice gave a grimace and tried to make herself invisible. “The Pearl was listing after the battle. It’s very unlikely she’ll be able to make good time.” Jack turned his attention to Norrington. “Think about it. The Black Pearl. The last real pirate threat in the Caribbean, mate.” At the moment he turned to look at Alice. “Present company excluded.. though you’re more up toward the colonies are you, love?”
Norrington coughed and Jack turned his attention back to the Commodore. “Yes, sorry, how could you pass that up? Eh?”
Norrington seemed to scoff. “By remembering that I serve others Mr. Sparrow, not only myself.”
“Commodore.” Elizabeth spoke up. “I beg you, please do this. For me.” Norrington began walking up the stairs. “As a wedding gift.” Norrington seemed to stop in his tracks and Alice felt her heart sink. The look on James’ face was one of elation, then confusion. Alice could not bare to look at him a second more. She turned to the horizon. The water offering her the comfort she most desperately needed. Tears were welling in her eyes and she desperately tried to push them away.
“Elizabeth.” Governor Swann interjected. “Are you accepting the Commodore’s proposal?”
“I am.” She answered with certainty.
“A wedding!” Jack Sparrow’s voice jumped over everything. “I love weddings! Drinks all around.” Norrington gave him a hard stare. “I know… ‘Clap him in irons’ right?”
Norrington began walking down the stairs, his eyes focused on Jack. “Mr. Sparrow, you will accompany these fine men to the helm and provide us with a bearing to the Isla de Muerta. You will then spend the rest of the voyage contemplating all possible meanings of the phrase ‘silent as the grave’. Do I make myself clear?” No one saw his eyes flicker to Alice, his heart dropping as he saw her staring into the horizon.
“Inescapably clear.” Jack said quickly before he turned to Alice. “We have to talk, love.” He was quickly dragged away.
Alice stood silent, her heart pounding and her mouth dry. Norrington had accepted Elizabeth’s proposal. Nothing she could have ever wanted mattered. Even in her wildest dreams. Her throat felt painfully dry, yet at the same time she wanted to scream, wanted to cry.
Groves grabbed her arm softly. “I am sorry, ma’am, I have to take you back to your quarters.” Alice barely nodded as she let herself be led away. He took her to the same captain’s quarters, his touch soft and understanding. Still, he left her there and the distinct click of the lock let her know where she stood.
She almost couldn’t feel her legs as they lead her toward the bed and she sat, contemplating everything she had just heard. Her only goal now? She needed to get out. She needed to escape this ship and her back to her men. More than that, Jack Sparrow. She didn’t relish seeing a fellow pirate hung, so now she knew she needed to get him out as well.
Alice was deep in thought and plan when the door opened again. She looked up a moment later, but the person standing in the quarters surprised her. Elizabeth Swann shut the door being her, those eyes dead set on Alice. She needed a talk.
————————
“Who are you?” Elizabeth asked quickly.
“You don’t mince words, Miss Swann.” Alice answered.
“Neither my father, nor Commodore Norrington would bring you here, if it wasn’t vitally important”
Alice let out a small chuckle. “You knew I wasn’t who I said I was.” Alice said quickly. “I told you the truth days ago.” Elizabeth seemed to take a big breath before she walked across the room and sat on the bed next to her friend.
“You’re Mad Alice, the pirate, aren’t you?”
Alice laughed. “I never doubted your intelligence, Elizabeth.”
“So, it’s true?” Her voice seemed quiet and sad.
“I meant what I said. I was going to tell you.” Alice assured her. “I planned to write you a letter when we were safely far away from Port Royal.” To Alice’s surprise Elizabeth wrapped her in her arms and hugged her tightly. It was unusual at the start, but soon Alice’s arms wrapped around Elizabeth as well and the two stayed like that for a moment.
“I need you to know-“ Elizabeth started as she pulled away. “I made my father promise to not have you harmed and to let you leave as soon as we return to Port Royal.”
“Thank you.” Alice said softly. She did believe Elizabeth - that she had made her father promise. However, people that hated pirates as much as Governor Swann were not in the habit of making these type of promises - even if it was for his beloved daughter.
Alice filed that away as a potentially positive thing, but she didn’t know if she could trust it. Did she trust Elizabeth and even James? Yes. Everyone else on Port Royal? Not as far as she could throw them. Alice mind turned to the last days.
“Tell me, Elizabeth. What of Barbosa?”
Elizabeth’s face paled. “Alice…. They.. they are not what you could ever believe.”
“What do you mean?”
“The worst tales I could ever imagine are true.” Elizabeth replied and Alice could feel the young woman’s body shaking against the bed before she continued. “The moonlight shows what they really are - cursed. It’s as if their skin peals away. In the moonlight it shows their skeletons.” Elizebeth’s eyes are wide. “They are stuck that way.” She grabbed Alice’s hands. “I swear to you that I am not lying.”
“Elizabeth…” Alice said softly. “I believe you.” Alice didn’t feel the need to reveal the pirate stories that had already been told. Elizabeth seemed to let out a breath she had been holding. “There are things in this world that we can never explain. Who am I to judge?” They two women sat in silence for a moment. “You must tell me though… Will… tell me of Will.”
Elizabeth’s face softened. “He was the man I was speaking of before the attack. We… the ship I was crossing on a child, we found him in the water. His ship had been attacked by pirates.” Her eyes misted. “His father was a member of the original crew of the Black Pearl. They killed his father before they knew he needed his blood.m to break the curse.”
Alice couldn’t help but laugh and Elizabeth turned to her in surprise. “Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth.” She said quickly. “It just seems that you are one who finds yourself surrounded by pirates.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Well, I have come to find that not all pirates are bad.” Alice gave her a kind smile.
“Alice… I, I need to apologize to you.”
“For what?”
“Because I am going to have to marry Norrington.” Alice lowered her head. “I know how you feel about him. I see the way the two of you look at each other and-“ Alice held up her hand.
“Please, do not apologize, Elizabeth. What else could have ever possibly happened?” Alice laugh. “A Commodore and a notorious Pirate? That could have never worked.”
“Alice…” Elizabeth’s eyes were soft. “I need to ask you something. Will you answer me honestly?”
“That I can not promise you.” Alice answered. “But I will try.”
“Are you in love with James Norrington?” Elizabeth asked. The silence in the quarters overtook them. The waves lapped against the wood and the sailors shouted orders and walked along the ship, their footsteps echoing. Alice thought about how to answer. If she knew an answer. Or course she knew an answer. Her eyes turned to Elizabeth who seemed to be eagerly waiting. Instead of saying a single word, Alice’s eyes softened. A smile crossed her features. Elizabeth didn’t need to hear a single word.
#james norrington imagines#pirates of the caribbean#james norrington x reader#james norrington#james norrington x ofc
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The Winchester Family: A Rant
Can I just say that Sheriff Jody Mills was more of a mother to Sam and Dean Winchester more than Mary ever was, even after Amara brought her back. Like I guess no hate to Mary...? But like isn't the whole thing about the Winchesters is that family isn't just blood. They developed wayy closer bonds than the ones with Mary, and I know it isn't necessarily her fault, but she wasn't there. Like I dunno, I just wasn't in love with Mary coming back, especially since when she did come back, it seemed like she saw they were grown up and like, didn't care..? Like it felt like she went "oh my job is done these are just two grown dudes that I gave birth to once." Like I know its a weird situation, but as a person who grew up watching Once Upon a Time, where like almost the same thing happened, with Snow, David, and Emma, I can't help but compare their reactions and Mary just didn't stack up.
Snow and David were so ecstatic to see Emma and tried so hard to make up for lost time and parent her as much as they could. They kept trying even as Emma pushed them away saying she was grown and that her and her parents were technically the same age. Throughout the show they found a way to still be her parents while still acknowledging she was grown. It was really beautiful to see, but in comparison Mary did not stack up.
Yes, she is a badass, and, yes, her identity should not solely surround her being the boys' mother, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't be a mother at all. It would've been nice to see her figure out a way to strike the balance the Snow and David did, and I never got that vibe. In Supernatural, it seemed the opposite. It was Dean and Sam trying to be her sons and she pushed them away for the same reasons. I'm not saying she was a bad person, or even a bad mother, as it was a really weird situation and I can't necessarily blame her for how she dealt with it. What I AM saying, though, is that her name had no right to be carved onto that table. Point. Blank. Period.
Also, by the way, since I'm complaining, that weird episode with the pearl thing that let John Winchester come back so they could have a family dinner?????? As if that could truly be what Dean desired. Are you fucking kidding me. John sucked, made them both feel like shit, abused them, and yet that was the "family dinner" we got. It's been a while since I watched the show, so Idk a timeline, but screw the timeline for a sec. Across the entire show, a true family dinner would be Dean and Cas with their son Jack, Sam as the Uncle with Eileen, Bobby and Jody as the Dean and Sam's parents (because, unlike Mary, I very much feel like Jody struck that balance even though they weren't her actual sons) and Jody's brigade of wayward sisters trailing behind her, Donna as like the step-mother or aunt (Idk how Donna fits, I just LOVE Donna), and Charlie as Sam and Dean's little sister. Jo, Ellen, and Ash pop in with Rufus as those family members that are close, but you can't quite pinpoint how exactly you're related to them. Bonus: Kevin and Linda Tran come over like friendly neighbors because, even though they have a family of their own, the Trans are definitely close to the Winchesters, though, whether they like it or not. As much as I'd like to add Adam (to make up for him being left in the pit), I have a feeling he wouldn't want to. He seemed like a guy who refused to subscribe to the idea that because they were blood, they were family. (Maybe Sam and Dean should've learned a thing or two).
TL;DR:
Sam and Dean had a much bigger, and better, family then just John and Mary, but it was never really acknowledged fully and in the best way.
#supernatural#mary winchester#sam winchester#dean winchester#jack winchester#castiel#jody mills#claire novak#charlie bradbury#jo harvelle#ellen harvelle#Ash#rufus turner#bobby singer#john winchester#kevin tran#linda tran
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Conjure: Chapter 1
Characters: Jake Kiszka, Josh Kiszka Warnings: 18+ || Angst. Language. Anger. Grief. Death. Accidental drowning. Funeral. Burial. Paranormal. Ghosts. (let me know if I'm missing something so I can add it.) A/N: Jaketober is officially officially here! I hope you'll enjoy this short series!
Twins.
Noun. A person or thing that is exactly like the other.
They were born into this world from the same womb–only five minutes apart. Two brothers who share just about everything. Everything they did was done together, except for their school classes. Too chaotic to be in the same class together. The only time they were ever purposely separated, and not by their choice. They made a pact when they were young, that since they came into this world together, they would leave this world together.
Twenty-eight years came and went in a blur. They survived significant others that came and went, some staying longer than others. They were each other's ride or die, no one could replace either one of them. They had their own best friends, but they were each other’s built in best friend from the start.
As the years went on, and the older they grew, they slowly became their own person with their own identity. Though they share all the same facial qualities, Jake wanted to be his own person. He was getting tired of people confusing him with Josh. He especially hated it when Josh tried to pretend to be him. So he grew out his hair while Josh typically kept his short and curly. They mutually decided to dress differently, growing tired of wearing matching outfits that their mother would put them in. His style grew different from Josh’s. While Josh was more hippie and international, Jake kept his casual and laid back. He became the emo twin, the long bangs and the hipster clothing. Even their music style had its slight differences, despite growing up around the same genres.
They even had different passions. Jake loved music. He learned how to play guitar at a very young age, and it was the one thing that he stayed true to. He had dreams of playing music like his grandfather, but he wanted to be BIG. Have a band, compose his own songs, travel around the world while playing his music. Josh on the other hand, dreamt of producing films. Come junior high and high school, he produced a few short films with the help of Jake, of course. He was also into theater, unlike Jake. He loved to act, loved to be the center of attention, whereas Jake did not. Jake tended to hang out behind the scenes, keep to himself and just not be bothered unless he chose to be.
And while Jake practiced and practiced to get better at guitar, he helped Josh make his movies. He even acted in them, despite being the one who didn’t want to act. But Josh was the director and the producer, someone had to be the actor. So when Jake wasn’t behind the camera and capturing all the good shots for Josh, he was in front of the camera and doing his best as an actor.
Eventually Jake began to form his own band and since he helped Josh with his movies, Josh returned the favor and decided that he would help Jake with his music. Jake promised him that once they made it big and Josh was ready to step down, he would help Josh again with his film. And so they did just that. They roped in their younger brother Sam who learned to play the bass and taught himself how to play the keys. Eventually they brought on a good family friend, Danny–who also grew into being one of their brothers. Family. That’s what they were, and that’s what they always would be.
And for the next ten years, the twins were still together. They even moved in together for a while, even with their significant others, because they just couldn’t separate from each other.
Until Josh made the decision to move out with his partner. “It’s time,” He said. “We need our own spaces if we want our relationships to work..” He patted Jake on the shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m not that far, and besides, I’ll give you a key so you can come over whenever you want to.”
Though they lived apart now, they still were inseparable, even when they went on tour. They were always together.
“Can’t get rid of me that easily.” Josh joked one night as he handed Jake a glass of whiskey. “And apparently the same goes for you.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Nah, we made a pact. If you go down, I’m going down with you.”
Josh chuckles. “That silly ole pact, Jacob,” He sips on his wine. “I can’t believe you’re still holding onto that.”
Jake shrugs his shoulders and sips his whiskey. “I don’t think I could ever live a day without you…”
Little did he know that living without his twin forever was approaching faster than he was ever expecting…
He was woken up late one night to a phone call from his brother’s partner. He could barely make out a word that the poor guy was going on about through tears. When he finally pieced everything together, he was out of bed and rushing down to his car.
It was an accident. It wasn’t supposed to happen. It was all an accident.
Josh was fooling around, as he usually does. Anything to entertain and bring a smile to his friends’ faces. He dared his partner that he could jump further into the lake and that he did. But his foot got tangled in the weeds at the bottom. He never resurfaced when his partner did. By the time he was cut free and brought back to the surface, he was already gone.
To Jake, it felt like a part of him was dying. His soul being yanked from his body. He broke a lot of things that night. His home was trashed by the time he finally cried himself to sleep. Seeing his brother lying there on the table, cold and… Dead.
His words echoed in his head as he stared at the ceiling.
“We promised each other! You promised me!”
He was angry with his brother for the weeks to follow before the funeral. He blamed his brother for his own death, his own stupidity. If he never made that stupid dare, then he wouldn’t have gone into the water and he never would have gotten stuck.
But then that anger turned into sorrow the day of the funeral. It all became real as he saw his brother lying in the casket in a sleek white suit. He stood there, staring at his lifeless body and the single white rose placed between his folded hands.
It rained that day, all through the funeral and all through the burial. Jake stood there without an umbrella, and refused one from anyone who offered him one. He didn’t care if he was being soaked, nor did he care if he would end up sick. Maybe this time it’ll take him out.
They enter this world together, they leave together.
That was the promise. The pact.
Even when everyone had left the gravesite after the casket was lowered into the ground, Jake stayed.
Eventually he left when the cemetery closed for the night, going home in a soaked suit.
Now it’s been four years since the passing of his brother. He still grieves for his other half, but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore. Celebrating his birthday that first year was a rough one. Instead of celebrating with their family, he went to the cemetery and spent the day there. Whether he spoke a word or not, he stayed in hopes of feeling his brother’s presence. He always had this feeling that he was around, always watching. He wanted to feel that again, especially that day.
Twice a year he’d visit Josh’s grave. Once for their birthday and again on Halloween. Halloween, he believed, is to be the day that the veil is the thinnest for the spirit world to enter the mortal world. Any chance he’d get to be closer to his brother, even for a little while, was worth it.
This year for Halloween is no different than the others. He’d drive to the cemetery in the afternoon, with a picnic basket full of his brother’s favorite food and a few candles that he will light when the sun goes down. But though it seemed to be no different than the rest, this year would be something to remember. He just didn’t know it.
What he also didn’t know is that his brother is indeed still there. And even though he knew Jake couldn’t hear him, he still responded to his questions as if they were having a normal conversation.
Josh is perched on his tombstone and draws lazy circles on the gray cement as he listens to Jake talk.
Blah, blah, blah. It’s the same old shit every year.
I miss you. I wish you were here. It’s not the same without you here.
Well no shit it’s not, brother. I wish I were there too–as I say every year..
He wishes he could just slap Jake. Anything to get him out of the mopey mess. Hoping off the stone, he settles on his feet before joining his brother on the grass.
“I met a girl..”
Josh perks up and smirks. “Oh, did you now?”
“But it didn’t last long..”
“Here we go… Let me guess, it’s because of me..”
“It’s because of you..”
“I knew it.. You can’t let my death get in the way of you living your life.” He goes to move off of the tombstone to sit in front of his brother. “You know, if I could touch you, I’d slap you. Pull yourself together, Jake.”
Jake sighs and lowers his head. “She’s really nice, but I didn’t want my grief to bring her down..”
Josh rolls his eyes and leans backwards against the stone. He runs his thumb over his nails as he inspects them. “Everyone grieves about someone, Jake. She’s probably grieving too.”
He watches as Jake reaches into the basket and pulls out a candle. He groans when he sees that it’s the smelly orange candle.
“What is with you and that godforsaken candle?” He says as he gags when he smells it. “It smells absolutely horrid. You and your witchy voodoo shit, I don’t get it.” He leans backwards again against the stone and folds his arms over his chest. “And if that’s some way to “honor me”, that’s pretty pathetic. You know I like grand things, not some smelly, little candle.”
“The candle does smell pretty bad,” Jake says with a light chuckle. “The packaging it came in said it was supposed to smell like pumpkin and sage.”
“And who was this person that thought pumpkin and sage smell good together?” Josh grimaces. “I prefer vanilla, thank you very much.”
Jake sighs and allows his shoulders to drop. “Anyways.. I talked to Chris today. He wants to start a band…” He shrugs and fidgets with his fingers in his lap. “I told him I’d think about it.. But the truth is, I don’t think I want to.. Music just doesn’t feel the same with you.”
“Oh for the love of god..” Josh rolls his eyes once more and pushes off the stone. “Nothing will be the same without me, that’s just how it’s going to be from now on. Of course it will be different, but maybe it’ll be a good different.”
“Seriously wish I could hear what you’re saying.. You’re probably yelling right about now, calling me stupid.”
“Yelling? No. Calling you stupid. Yes, because you are being stupid!” Josh sighs and rubs his temple. “Even when I’m dead, I’m still the rational one..”
“I guess my passion for music is kind of dead–no pun intended.”
“Ha ha ha, very funny..” Josh leans forward on his knees and stares down his brother. “Like I haven’t heard that one before..”
“I’m sorry if I’m depressing you..”
“Well, you’re in the right place for that..” Josh grumbles. “Unfortunately..” He scoffs. “This place is depressing.. Just last week there was a woman who cried for hours over my grave and I didn’t even know who she was! I don’t think I’ve ever met her! Although now that I think about it, I think she was at the wrong grave.. She kept calling for a ‘Joey’.. I don’t even know a ‘Joey’, nor have I met one on this side.. Maybe he crossed over, you know, that kind of thing..”
“--And I don’t know, I guess I just still feel comfortable coming to talk to you still, even if I can’t hear anything you’re saying..”
“Oh shit, you’re still talking.” He laughs. “My bad..”
Jake looks around the stone, squinting in the light of the flashlight. “Cemetery’s closed, sir..”
Josh peers over the stone himself to find the groundskeeper weaving his way around the other tombstones as he comes closer to Jake. He rolls his eyes and stands to his feet. “I hate this guy.. Such a downer–he’s worse than you. Ugh.. And he always takes the flowers from my grave.. Hello, I’m still enjoying those, thank you very much!” He huffs and folds his arms over his chest.
“I’m sorry,” Jake says as he stands to his feet. “I guess I got a little carried away again..”
“Jacob, don’t apologize.. I get it. Sometimes I find myself getting carried away talking to the dead too.” The groundskeeper chuckles.
Josh rolls his eyes. “He really does get carried away.. He rambles on more than I do, and that says a lot.”
“Go home and get some sleep.. He’ll still be here tomorrow..”
“And the day after that.. And the day after that.. And the day after that.. I’ll always be here.”
Jake reluctantly picks up the picnic basket and the candle. He blows it out and puts it back inside the basket. “Bye Josh..”
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