#one of them is admittedly MASH

[kindlythevoid]

Rewatched The Proposal the other day and have now added it to my list of rom-coms I need to adapt for Rexsoka.

(They are sorely behind in rom-com adaptations on Ao3)

This brings the list up to 11.

I have not written any of them yet.

[kyoghurts]

˓ ⊹ ˚. ‹ falling (without grace.) mash burnedead

my headcanons of mash having feelings for you…albeit very oblivious.

notes. love him sm bro aughh this actually took way too long than intended, mainly because i stretched it out until the part where finn and co. noticed your relationship with mash. (i’ll post that in the part two)

i don't think he's aware of it, because things really click slowly to him.

but he knows that he likes to be your friend. to be near you in ways he's able to. drawn in your presence like a puppy following you around, inexplicably yet admittedly so.

you’d see him idling around the door once your period ends with his widely known stoic face. he’ll walk you to your next class and maybe even carry your books/belongings if you have any, without much of an explanation (because how could he explain it to you? how could he when he can’t translate these actions from the heart to make his brain understand?). mash is a quiet person, that much you’re aware of, but in this breath of quiet—you know he’s doing it because he wants to, god he’s even willing to listen to you ramble too, somehow finding it easy to digest your words. your voice trickles in his head, sometimes echoing. something blossoms in his chest spreading far and wide. he feels at ease.

he asks you if you’re free at times, because he’ll absolutely pull you towards the school kitchen as you help him make his creampuffs.

don’t know how to or where to start? it’s okay, he’ll gleefully teach you the basics. and if you ask him the journey of perfecting his skills, he’ll tell you that too, vibrance coloring his eyes.

and he’ll also take the time to learn your favorites! if you like them extra sweet, or not so much, don’t even be surprised if he gives them to you one day!

໒ ྀི⸝⸝´ ˘ `⸝⸝ ა i could just see him timidly touchy with you (but with consent, of course!!) like bumping his shoulder to yours, ghostly leaning his head against your shoulder/head, fixing your hair, poking or pinching your cheeks. its just aaaAaaaaaAAAAAA such small acts would absolutely complete his day <3

there could be moments where you’d be in the library, he’d sit across from you—again, without the mouth formulating words of explanation. he’ll tell you he wants to watch you study: flicking his gaze every so often towards you, to your materials, and eventually will feel sleepy so he takes a nap with arms crossed, resting his head against it, and there’s something about him that makes you come to a halt with what you’re doing—like an invitation of sorts, coaxing you. he looks so peaceful, his lips parted just slightly as he breathes evenly.

maybe after doing your homework you’ll also take up the wonderful offer of a nap. there’s a want settling within, you know you want him to be near you too. and so you let him tempt you like this, because it’s nice, because he’s nice. and sweet, and quiet.

so earnest in his ways, and who wouldn’t discern them as a language of his romantic feelings? at least, you do notice them. you haven’t seen him done any of these things with anyone, the thought has only arrived at the point of midnight before you go to bed.

(the next day, it’d still be the same. for you.)

(however, how long will it take for him to realize?)

you were happy like this. you like the quiet—the kind that mash brings. he doesn’t quite understand why you were smiling so brightly one day, more…warmer than he’d ever seen, and that it sends him into a state of awe. fondness written in his eyes. albeit small, the ends of his lips rise in a grin. he’s just as happy as you are. perhaps a little bit than he’s aware. flushed pink ears that tells you everything. and when you gently pinch his cheeks and greet him “g’morning, sugar��� he swears he’ll do anything just to keep you calling him that.

until then, your heart shall learn to bask in the quiet, falling—slowly, even without grace.

taglist. @seneon (taglist are open! just send me an ask :D)

notes. im actually so tired rn but mash does wonders to me, hes becoming one of my comforts now. cant wait to finish the part two as wellll

© kyoghurts. ★ reblogs & likes are well appreciated!

[irisposts]

don’t go | e.williams

warning: cheating, slight angst

thinking about making multiple parts lemme know! :)

edited: yes/no

DINNER IS AWKWARD….

Your fork clinks against the plate as you attempt to spear the lingering asparagus. The sounds of Jesse clearing his throat and Dina blowing a breath of air fill the room.

Your eyes lift ever so slightly, observing Ellie toying with her food—her fork nudging lettuce around her plate, her expression disturbed. You then turn your attention to Calum, your boyfriend, who casually swipes at his mouth with a napkin, seemingly unfazed by the tension in the air.

You chew on your lip.

Jesse clears his throat once more, “Y/N, man, these mashed potatoes.” His usual southern drawl, which would bring you comfort, now adds to your anxiety. “Sure are good… love me some good ol’ mashed potatoes.”

Jesse awkwardly chuckles, then stops as Dina gestures for him to stop with a touch of her hand.

The first scrape of the chair reaches your ears.

“I’m not feeling well,” Ellie abruptly stands up and takes her plate.

You watch with wet eyes as she avoids eye contact, keeping them low to the ground. What stings the most is the comforting look Dina offers to her, and how Ellie acknowledges that instead.

“Thanks for the dinner.” She nods towards you and Calum, then disposes of her plate in the kitchen. You watch as she comes back to walk past and stops. She looks at the two of you this time, and you can see it in her eyes, the hurt. “Congrats.”

And with that, Ellie walks away head low. Your throat tightens, and this massive wave of unease settles at the pit of your stomach. Your eyes fall to the diamond ring on your finger, and it feels almost too much to bear.

It's been three weeks since you and Calum dropped the engagement bomb on your friends over dinner. Or at least, Calum did the dropping. You wanted to wait a few more weeks, maybe even months.

You care a lot about Calum; he's sweet, kind, and handsome. However, you can't shake the feeling that things are moving too fast. You both met at university around a year ago, and you’re both in your early twenties, trying to figure this whole thing out.

Then, last month, he got down on one knee at dinner, in front of your parents, and popped the magic question,

"—Do you want to marry him?"

Your mind goes blank, and you glance over to Ellie, who's fixedly staring at the TV.

"What?"

Ellie licks her lips, and you observe her swallowing a thought.

This is the first time in weeks you've heard Ellie speak to you in a complete sentence. You've been roommates for three years, and not hearing her voice was admittedly torture. Lately, she's been distant and awkward, responding with the occasional "yeah," "yes," "I don't know."

You practically invited yourself onto the couch tonight, and now she's talking to you; things are starting to look up for once, you think to yourself.l

"Do you want to marry Calum...?" Ellie turns her head toward you, but her eyes are still low. She holds her pointer and middle finger, a nervous tick you've noticed over the years.

You take a moment. "I…" When you try to speak and say yes, the words get stuck in your throat. You close your lips and swallow. "I don't know...."

Saying this, a wave of shame hits you, and you bite back the guilt, but you feel it spreading to your throat, crawling toward the surface. "W-Why do you ask?"

Ellie shakes her head, hesitating. “I…just.” Her lips tremble, and you watch as she goes through the motions before finally saying, "Don't go."

It's almost like your world stops, and in tunnel vision, it's only Ellie.

You lean forward, placing your hand on top of hers. "Ellie, I—"

The front door snaps open; your fiancé, Calum, stumbles in. You sit up, partially alarmed but equally annoyed that you had given him a key a while back.

"Helloooooo!” He slams the door shut and stumbles further into the apartment. "Man, people don't know how to drive," Calum slurs his words. "Fuckin amateurs…"

Ellie's lips turn into a straight line, and she swipes at her eyes.

"You drove here drunk?"

Calum makes a face. "No, Jesus, Y/N. Relax, I just had a few drinks with the boys."

Calum turns towards your bedroom in a sway. He's drunk, too drunk as you watch him steady himself along the walls.

Ellie stands up and mumbles something along the lines of, "I got homework tonight," and shuffles awkwardly into her room.

"Ellie?" But it's too late as her room door closes.

Calum is at your front door, and he laughs. "What crawled in her pants?"

If you could throw daggers with your eyes, Calum would be obliterated.

It’s another two weeks, and your mind still wonders about what Ellie had meant when she said, “Don’t go.” You practically drive yourself mad, but every time you try to bring it up, Ellie is either too tired to talk, or you're working a shift, or Ellie is at basketball practice or with Dina and Jesse.

Speaking of Dina and Jesse, you've noticed your spot in the group has shrunk; the trio tends to hang out more, leaving you with Calum.

Most importantly, you've observed Dina and Ellie becoming exceptionally close.

Dina has been at your apartment more frequently; you hear the giggles in Ellie’s room when Dina stays the night. And you love Dina; you truly do, but you can't help but feel a bit jealous of this whole ordeal; after all, Ellie is your best friend. But this jealousy is more; it's different…

“Hey.”

You say the word so sharply it could cut ice. You watch as Ellie exits the bathroom, towel drying her hair.

She looks around at the empty apartment, “Hey?”

Every thought in your head scrambles to make its way first to your lips. “You’ve been avoiding me.” You don’t mean to sound accusatory, but you've simply had enough; you miss your best friend, your Ellie.

Ellie chews on the inside of her cheek. “Have I?” She continues walking forward towards her bedroom. But you stop her, grabbing her arm.

“Stop.”

Ellie turns to you, cheeks hot.

Your chest thumps at her wet hair sticking to her face, the messiness of it all. The rosiness of her cheeks, the freckles that decorate her face. The visible skin of her waist, the water droplets rolling off, as she only wears her sports bra and a pair of baggy shorts. You notice the waistband sticking out underneath.

You shake the thought licking at your lips, “What did you mean by ‘don’t go?’”

You remove your hand.

Ellie rocks on her heels. “Are we still talking about this?”

You cross your arms. “Yes.” You swipe at your eyes. “Please.”

Ellie thinks for a moment, trying to find the words. “I just don’t think… Calum is the right person for you.” Ellie raises her eyes slowly, expecting a fight. “Okay?”

You take a breath. “And who would be my right person?”

Ellie pauses, her gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips. The heat rises in her cheeks, and her chest pounds so loudly that she wonders if you can hear it. Clamminess creeps into her palms, and the thought of passing out on the spot crosses her mind, but this might be her only chance to keep you,

"me."

A part of you wants to respond with "no" or "we're just friends; I have a fiancé," yet that part of yourself is rendered null as Ellie stands before you.

The other part screams, a surge of joy, jitters, and emotions. It’s almost a sigh of relief – the feeling you’ve harbored for years now reciprocated.

“Y/N,?” Ellie looks at you, concerned, but you reach forward.

“Shut up,” Holding her face between your hands, your lips meet in a feverish kiss. It’s every bit of love that has been locked away for years, pouring out.

The next thing you know, you're stumbling back towards her bedroom, hands moving, touching, and grabbing each other's skin. In the process, your lips move in unison. It’s messy, but it’s everything you could ever imagine it to be. Ellie kisses with a sense of authority and power, she’s obviously well mastered in the art.

Her tounge slides at your bottom and you gasp just as her muscular arms flex, and lift you onto her hips, “Fuck.”

You're even more impressed as she carries you to her bedroom.

Her foot slamming the door shut behind you.

[whalesforhands]

side story i: injuries and patch-ups (satosugu x reader)

warnings: fantasy au, VERY suggestive, ultimately fluff, just geto having dirty thoughts, gojo being cute bcs i think he is, helping with their injuries after the dynamic duo fight each other (ft. shoko) 👍

“Hurrrrryyyy uppppppp!”

Gojo Satoru doesn’t like waiting. Not when he’s been cut, minor slashes all across his torso and upper body, his shirt off to better add the dramatics to how much pain he’s in.

“Satoru, Shoko is coming back with tweezers in a while… Please be patient.” You feel bad for him, you really do. But you can’t exactly help the poor man, leaving only a consoling pat to his head before turning your back on him.

His frown grows ever bigger as he crosses his arms, wincing at the pricks that dig further in.

He would have been clinging onto you, his hands around your waist and chin upon your shoulder from behind as he watched you mash up balsam from plants his cheek pressed into the skin of your neck had it not been for the fact that he was also covered in jumping cholla, the palm-sized balls of cacti clung to every part of his exposed skin, a byproduct of wrestling Suguru gone wrong.

He’s upset. You can’t touch him, can’t come near him. And all he can do it sit, pout and wait as you help Suguru first, all cute and sitting on his lap as you rub the ointment all over the admittedly, beautiful man’s bare chest, feeling up those stupidly prominent muscles of his abdomen and thick, burly arms as he sat there with an even stupider smile, pretty hair all over those broad shoulders that—

Yeah, he’s too upset. And his pout and puffed up cheeks that grew even bigger with his irritation showed that.

Geto Suguru is a very patient man. He would’ve been fine to have you deal with the pouty sorcerer first, would’ve been fine if you had him wait in favour of helping Satoru first. He’s used to it, likes seeing the look of relief on said man’s face when he’s finally out of pain, gleefully smiling towards the man once again as he hurriedly ushers Shoko to patch him up too.

He just isn’t used to it when you start fussing over both of them equally.

“How did you both get yourself like this?!”

“Sit, sit!” You’re ushering them both in, undoing their vests, unbuttoning their coats with almost zero precaution of the potential harm you might bring to yourself.

Very much unlike Shoko’s blank look-overs at their wounds.

“You’re both idiots.” She’s looking over her medkit tools before she sighs, a hand on her forehead before she turns to you, sinking into your arms in tiredness as Satoru lets out a whine at the sight.

“I’m still injured here!” He’s tapping his foot against the ground impatiently. “I wanna be consoled too!”

It’s the middle of the night, they’re both within your tent, Shoko is gone for a while, you’re dressed down in your nightclothes that are unbearably thin and you’re… Sitting upon his lap, practically straddling him as you gently clean his cuts.

(Not that he’s complaining. He’s elated.)

You are, however, testing him. The curves of your body highlighted by the shadows of the dim light, the concentrated stare on your pretty face. You don’t even flinch when he moves a hand to tuck back a strand of your stray locks, only smiling at him as you continue your work.

How precious.

He’s in two minds. Not sure whether he would prefer you to be atop of him, your body twitching as you watch him with a cute pout, your hips slamming down to take all of him in as his grip on them grows stronger, tighter— He does quite like a challenge.

Or would he like it better if he was the one controlling your pleasure, holding you down whilst your legs are wrapped around his waist. Your cries spilling into his ear as he continues to kiss up your neck, itchy hands groping at your chest.

Perhaps it would be the best if Satoru was also involved. The man’s loud voice would finally be put to good use as he laid atop of you, buried in you till the hilt as Suguru mounts behind him, atop both of you as he watches just how pliant you both could be underneath him before he decides what sort of reward you both deserve.

He snaps out of the daze when he hears the rustle of the tent entrance, Shoko making her back in, adorned with a pair of gloves and a comically large pair of tweezers in her hand.

“You asked for this.” The metal tool is clanking in her hand as a shine of mischief glitters in her gaze, her voice an impish drawl.

“I’ll be sure to make sure you’re all healed up, Satoru.” The menacing tone had yet to relent.

——

Gojo Satoru is now very upset as Shoko bandages him up, watching as you attempted to get up from your position still upon Suguru’s lap, only for that raven-haired idiot’s hands to drag you back down, a furrow forming between his brows, as his lips begin to mouth words of disapproval, only for your smile to only simply take on a confused look.

Gojo Satoru does not know if he wants to strangle you both, or join in. It’s most probably the latter. Probably. He just wants you both to shower him in some of that affection too.

“You’re good to go.” Shoko’s steady, bored tone of voice falters as she lets out a yawn, removing her gloves as her closing eyes zero in on your bedroll.

“Don’t make too much noise…” Were her final words before she collapsed onto the soft material, knocking out instantaneously as she made herself comfortable.

Good. Just what he wanted to hear. He’s making his way towards the both of you, towering his height over both of your sitting forms before plopping himself right next to Suguru, dropping his head on his teammate’s shoulder as he pouts.

He wants attention too. And you both better be prepared to give him some. Get the hint already.

It isn’t long before he feels hands pat at his bandages, fingers gently trailing them and leaving a slight shiver to his spine despite the warmth within the tent.

“Feeling better?” It’s your lovely voice that he hears first.

“He definitely looks a lot better, if he can pout like that.” Now he’s annoyed again, he closes his eyes, simply resting against the man he was just roughhousing with earlier over… Some dumb reason even he doesn’t remember.

There’s a shift, a rustle of fabric that his ears barely catch, before he feels his once empty side fill with a warmth.

“You look cold.” Your side is pressed against his own, getting in close to help him preserve warmth. (You seem to be helping a lot, it seems. His eyes are tinging red, his forehead turned inward more to bury it onto Suguru’s shoulder.)

He’s still not replying. Is this because you neglected him earlier? Your eyes flicker to meet placid purple, before they go back to the back of Satoru’s white hair.

Injuries… Suguru did mention that this white-haired menace likes being fawned over.

“Would you talk to me if… I kiss your injuries better?” A beat passes. And another. You can swear that even his neck was growing red as a giggle escapes your lips.

…

“Yeah.” His blushing face is lifted up and immediately turned to face yours as he swallows. Hard. “Do it.”

masterlist

Notes:

“You missed a spot.” Gojo’s practically glowing, a pleasant tune being hummed as you kiss the bandages on his forearm. Your lips pull back slightly, moving up as you leave another by his upper arm.

“Can you do my shoulder too?” His tone is extremely jolly, expectant, excited. You relent, bestowing another chaste kiss to his shoulder.

You kind of regret offering him this now.

Shoko awoke to 3 people piled atop of her. She does not dare to move or twitch a muscle in fear that you wake up.

She does, however, attempt to kick at the other 2 to wake them up in order to kick them out of your tent. It’s hard, since Satoru has made himself the main star by resting his head atop your stomach, whilst Suguru was on his side, huddling everyone into him with an arm stretched over your waists. (And Satoru’s snoring face.)

Breakfast was taken really late that day.

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 30 - Fame & Fortune

Summary: Fame and fortune mean nothing when you can't do things for the people who matter the most.

Word Count: 943

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Not FOI compliant (Eddie's mom dies when he's 10 or 11), angst, hurt/comfort-ish, minor grief, fluffy, Eddie has a big heart

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! There's only one day left after today, but you can still participate.

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Eddie Munson was used to going without.

Shit, he’d gone without for most of his life.

When he was younger and his mom was still alive, he didn’t necessarily know that he was missing out on anything.

She did the best she could. Cooked hearty meals the way a real midwesterner knew how to do—the kinds that stuck to your bones on those cold winter nights—and made sure every dollar stretched as far as it could. That way they could have anything they needed.

And even some of the things they wanted.

Wayne upheld those practices once Mom had passed, and by the time Eddie was old enough to understand the things he might have missed out on, or the things his mom and uncle sacrificed, well…he did his best to make it up to Wayne on both of their behalfs.

Admittedly, he'd been a little selfish when the first real check came in, the first big one. Souped up the van, got it a new paintjob, a little airbrushed mural on the side that matched the cover of the first album. Replaced some ratty old t-shirts, bought some new expensive boots.

He wasn't sure what Italian leather was and if it was different to American leather but the price sure was higher so that had to mean it was better, right?

But the second check, the whole thing, went to Wayne. Despite many protests and complaints on the phone.

"You said you were sending me a little something. To help make ends meet," Wayne scolded him. "That's all I agreed to."

"La la la, I can't hear you." He and Wayne shared a laugh. "Do whatever you want with it. Cash it and put it in that coffee can under the sink. Get a new car. At least get the radiator fixed on that old clunker."

"Eddie--"

"Wayne, please. Let me do this."

The next few checks were for him again. The thing about growing up without everything you want is that when you got older and you had the ability to have them...well, suddenly you had all of it.

And Eddie had all of it.

Before long his apartment was full of too much shit that his inner child desired--action figures and that really nice minifig set for DnD and all the books he could ever dream of and several really nice guitars. It wasn't until he came home with some obnoxious model of the Death Star and that he realized he might have gone too far.

That's when he tried to go back to Wayne again.

"Oh no. No more. Why don't you do something nice for yourself?" his uncle suggested.

"I've already done enough nice stuff for myself."

"Put the money in the bank. Save it for a rainy day."

"I'm already doing that too!" Eddie threw a hand in the air and then mashed it on the top of his head. "You know if mom was still around, she would let me do something nice for her. A house. New clothes. Slippers! You remember how she always wanted new slippers for her birthday?"

"You'd ask for all the change from the cupholder in the car every time I picked you up from school so you could get them for her," Wayne reminisced.

Both of the Munson men sighed over the phone, thousands of miles apart but still sharing their forlorn thoughts.

Then Eddie had an idea.

He didn't even give Wayne a chance to tell him whether or not he thought it was good. To Eddie, it was brilliant.

And it was.

He said a quick goodbye and started making phone call after phone call to see if it could happen. The band's manager, Phil, might have been curious about the request, but was still happy to help.

It was not as wild as some other things he'd been asked to do for clients throughout his career. And for that he was grateful.

A few weeks later and everything was set.

Eddie got a flight home, just a quick visit. Crashed on the couch at the trailer--but not after a bickering match with Wayne about moving into a double wide at the very least--and then went about the business that he needed to.

He drove his rental car across town to the old graveyard, and then started his trek.

Elizabeth Munson was laid to rest in 1975; her funeral had been unremarkable but attended by many friends. Neighbors, the regulars at Benny's, people she'd gone to high school with.

Eddie remembered the way a few people had passed some cash off to his uncle.

"Get her a better headstone," they murmured, over and over, glancing at the roughly hewn stone marker set into the ground. "She was a real angel."

He'd asked Wayne about it years later, and Wayne just scratched his head trying to remember. Sure, some of the money had been used for the funeral, but the rest probably went to things that Eddie needed.

School shoes and a new winter jacket.

His mom had gone without once more, so that he could have things he needed.

He hadn't thought about it until the other night on the phone.

And now, instead of that headstone in his memory, there on her grave sat a monument of red granite with an angel embracing the epitaph in its arms.

It was big and maybe a little gaudy compared to some of the adjacent graves, but it was an emotional sight to see.

He ran his hand over it reverently, tracing his finger over his mother's name with a soft, "Hey ma."

And nothing less than what she deserved.

[judasgot-it]

I was originally going to upload this as part of an ask I got but I feel like I got carried away, so I decided to upload this separately. I'll upload it eventually, it's literally been 6 months I'm so sorry bro.

1.5 k words

Scenario: Grocery shopping date with Tecchou

Admittedly Tecchou was sometimes a bit boring. At least that's what he was told. He was just a man who enjoyed those simple things in life.

Like watching ants on the ground. For 8 hours. Call it weird and boring, although that's just how Tecchou preferred to spend some of his work hours.

He was getting paid for it.

Or his lunch. Usually, it was just something plain, like mashed potatoes and vanilla yogurt. Maybe some mayonnaise if he felt fancy.

If it's left up to him, it's whatever he can he really finds himself thinking up of on the spot.

His dates with you usually went the same way. If he could, he would sleep in every day and get takeout - maybe do laundry and watch an old movie the two of you never had the chance to see because of his job.

Like right now? It was just grocery shopping. Maybe it was boring. Run of the mill, even.

But it was miles better than dying on the battlefield. Walking boring plain tiles were better than stepping over dead bodies. So, today was a complete win for him.

It was all pushing the grocery cart and debating the price of bagels today - the perfect ideal in his world. Seeing you check off your list with a smile, then walking back across the store because you forgot something was the best thing he could imagine doing on his day off.

There wasn't any rush. With you - he could pretend that the price of bagels was the most important thing in his life. He could pretend that he actually cared about picking up dish soap or not.

You were safe. The two of you were walking side by side, with no danger anywhere in sight.

He really felt no need to run anywhere.

This was a perfect date. An ideal one, if there were anything like that out there.

Of course, life sometimes doesn't go his way, and he's forced to deal with something out of one of the circles of hell.

The fucking return counter.

He had no problem public speaking. It was a big part of his job after all - but by god did he hate it when it came to the mundane.

Why does he have to download the store app? Why do only some of his coupons work and others don't? Why is there no tag on the item he specifically came to the store to buy, the only brand of peanut butter he could seem to find in this part of Yokohama?

Tecchou isn't one to complain, he understands the meanings of law and order very well - he is an officer, after all. But sometimes, every once and a while, he will find himself stuck in the position of what an ordinary man's hell is like.

Peanut butter and discount items. The ordinary.

Today that hell is spent with you at the return counter, waiting for them to find the correct price of his goddamn peanut butter because no one is paying an extra 3 dollars for that.

Luckily, you were there with him, so today's hell was quite bearable.

"When we get back home, what movie do you want to watch?"

Tecchou turned to you, broken out of his thoughts.

You were rummaging through the bags on his arms, looking for the snacks the two of you had bought. Not fair, since Tecchou still had to wait for his peanut butter thanks to the hell that was this store.

How could it even be called a convenience store? What was this lady doing? She had spent forever looking for the price.

"I don't know. Wasn't there a movie you wanted to watch?"

There was a scoff as you looked up at him.

"That's not fair, I picked last time."

You were cute as you pouted out your lip, acting as if he were an insolent child.

"I don't really care what we watch. Spending time with you is what's important."

If Tecchou could, he would rather stare at you all day. Even if you'd rather hide behind your hair or stare at down at your hands. Was there something catching your eye?

"Right. Well uh..."

You looked away completely, staring off somewhere towards the floor. He tried to follow your eyes, seeing what you were looking at.

Maybe it was a cool bug he hadn't noticed.

"Sir, I fixed the price."

Finally.

He looked to the counter to get his peanut butter. Although, as he tried to grab it, the girl held it back. Her nails grazed his skin, the texture making him want to vomit.

What?

"I'm gonna need something from you before I give this to you, actually."

Tecchou looked back at you, and then back at the lady at the counter.

"I already paid?"

"Oh, I know."

He stared at her.

"And?"

She giggled, looking him up and down. Whatever she was on, it had to be illegal because this was just stupid.

"I want your number, hottie." She winked, her fingers grazing the top of the peanut butter cap. Somewhere in the back of the store, Tecchou heard the normal sounds of groceries being bagged and checked out - a sound he was jealous of for once in his life.

This question felt like a riddle of some sort. 

"How did you know I was in the military?" 

He hadn't worn anything showing he was in the hunting dogs whatsoever, which made him rather concerned - why would a civilian ask for his service number? He didn't even have his sword visible on his person, so how would someone like a store clerk know to ask that question?

All he recieved back was a blank stare. 

"Um. I think we should go now. Thanks for fixing my boyfriends peanut butter."

You saved the conversation, grabbing the peanut butter gruffly and shoving it in the bag. Tecchou couldn't see your face still, but as you grabbed his hand, he felt how iron tight your grip was - your skin changing shades as you tightened your hold on him.

With unhurried steps, followed your quicker ones out the doors - the sound barely registering as you nearly rushed away from the building in a sprint, as if seeing a ghost. 

Your back stayed against him, brushing against his shoulder every once and a while as he struggled to keep pace with you and your uneven movements.

"Babe."

He gently shook the arm you had held, trying to get your attention. It forced you to stop, but you were still avoidant, staring anywhere but at him - your eyes hidden by the shadows of the now blue hour of the winter. 

Tecchou pulled you hand closer, seeing how the air that blew out of your mouth condensed into a thick fog, your hand quickly losing its squishy warmth and turning as cold as the air surrounding the two of you.

"What's wrong?"

You shook your head, a whine whistling through your throat. Tecchou watched as you laid your entire body against his, feeling your body weight smack against his. He didn't complain, simply wrapping his free arm against your shoulders, pulling you closer.

"Tecchou, did you realize she was flirting with you?"

"Who?"

That broke some invisible dam inside of you, as you broke down, laughing so loud it almost sounded like a sob. You were holding onto him for support, your knees nearly buckling underneath you.

Tecchou tried his best to wait it out, holding onto you as you caused a small wet stain on his coat. He was almost concerned, seeing you breakdown over nothing so quickly. Before he could even open his mouth to ask if you were ok, you cut him off, more serious than ever.

"You didn't know that store clerk was flirting with you, right?"

Straight into the eyes you looked at him, gripping on the coat around his waist and feeling for his sword there. Almost like a threat.

Smiling, he shook his head, carefully taking your hands away from his sword. He didn't want any chances.

"No. I was more concerned about how she knew I'm a hunting dogs member. Do you think she might be a threat, possibly? Normal civilians shouldn't be able to notice those things."

Tecchou rested his head against yours, rubbing his hands up against your shoulders as he stayed deep in thought. Your hands climbed around to fall against the small of his back, Tecchou feeling as your smaller hands pressed his coat against his skin.

It made him feel warm. Even as he felt you continue to giggle, your warm breaths fanning against his throat as he tried to decode who that clerk was - your body pressed against his, your days groceries knocking between your thighs.

It made him feel a sort of domestic warmth, creeping a smile against his face.

[little-pondhead]

The Folly of Men -

Chapter 2: #78866B

AO3 - MASTERPOST

[GENERAL TW: Swearing, lukewarm violence, lots of POV changes, and mild body horror.]

[I sacrificed Damian's POV for more time of Jazz, and everything jumps around a little, but I refuse to feel regret. Notes on the timeline are at the bottom.]

-

Two hours went by way faster than Jazz thought. Between gathering the emergency bags, counting cash, and raiding the lab, she barely managed to herd her parents out the front door on time. Luckily, the two doctors didn't put up a fight, so she still had ten minutes to lock up. Like she said, Jazz hadn't touched the portal besides locking it down. The portal's power supply had been re-routed to an emergency shield, blocking anything from getting in or out. As long as it was still on, that shield would hold.

Jazz blew a strand of hair out of her face as she sat on the front porch for a moment. The door was locked, she had everything, and her parents were waiting like scared kids for her a few feet away. All she had to do was arm the security system using the bug Tucker had sent her. It was relatively easy; she had to take off the casing to the alarm next to their doorbell and use a connector to plug her phone in. It took her a moment, admittedly. It wasn't easy to mash tiny buttons when her hands shook with adrenaline.

While she waited for the virus to load, Jazz glanced at her parents, watching them. They looked lost. A little guilty, perhaps? They both looked gaunt and had unshed tears in their eyes, looking positively miserable for all the world to see. They hadn't said a peep after she had stormed off. Not even when she came back to clamp 'Shade Shackles' onto their wrists, hissing something to them about behaving. The shackles were heavy and bulky, restricting them from their wrists to their elbows and locking their arms together.

The shackles wouldn't hold Jack for long, she knew. Not if he was actually trying to escape. But honestly, the man was probably worse off than his wife. He just kept staring into space, dissociating.

Jazz thought they deserved it. After a few more seconds of fiddling, her phone finally beeped, indicating the upload was complete. She unplugged her phone, packed the cord into one of her bags, and stood again to close the alarm casing. Shutters slammed shut over every entrance into Fentonworks. Maddie flinched at the loud noise.

"And now," Jazz muttered, picking up her bat. "We can't go back." The redhead swung like a professional, slamming her weapon into the alarm, setting it off like a loud pig. She took her anger out on the plastic, smashing the buttons and hardware to bits, sending wires flying. Even the brick beneath the alarm was chipped in many places. Well, if there was one thing her parents did right, it was make a decent bat. The creep stick didn't have a scratch when she finally stepped back.

Wiping sweat from her brow, Jazz took in her handiwork. Getting some extra aggression out of her system slightly cleared her head, and she smiled at the ruined building. The alarm was going off at max volume, and some of the floodlights her parents had installed a few years ago lit up the whole neighborhood with flashing red. If the Fentons hadn't had people’s attention before, they sure as hell did now.

"What'd you do that for?" Maddie said, horrified. Guess she was breaking her silence.

Jazz scoffed, turning to pick her bags up and sling them over one shoulder. "Because while I'd love to burn this place to the fucking ground-"

"You can't!"

"Shut up. It's not up to you, Maddie." Jazz spat. "And it's not up to me. Danny gets to decide what happens to Fentonworks. Whether you like it or not, this is his final resting place. I'm not going to rob him of closure."

Maddie snapped her mouth shut.

"Final resting place?" Jack finally returned to himself as he cried at his daughter's words. Thick tears dripped down his face. Jazz had never seen her father so distraught, not even when Vlad moved away to Europe last year. He looked heartbroken.

Jazz sneered, poking her father in the chest with her bat. "You heard me. That fucking portal, your goddamn pride and joy, is what got Danny killed in the first place. That lab is where he died in front of his friends because you two are idiots who refuse to follow any sort of rule."

"No, that's not-"

"Not what?" Jazz rounded on her mother, who shrunk back in the face of her fury. "Not right? That's not what happened? Is that what you were going to say?"

They were attracting a crowd. People were being drawn out of their houses by the alarms and shouting, staring at the two Fenton parents with mild distaste. Everyone knew their children put up with a lot, even if the doctors were well-meaning. Did they finally cross the line?

"It was hard for us too!" Maddie insisted. "All those late nights, his avoidance of us, how he looked at us! It was horrible."

"THAT'S BECAUSE YOU KILLED HIM!" Jazz roared. She was as red as her hair now, and the little ectoplasm that ran in her veins made the edges of her form blurry. As if she was a heat mirage. "YOU KILLED HIM, AND NOW YOU'RE KILLING HIM AGAIN BY HANDING HIM TO THE GHOST INVESTIGATION WARD!"

"Th-they just wanted to study him," Jack sobbed. "T-to avoid and prevent any ghost disease breakouts."

"BULLSHIT!" Her voice echoed down the street. It boomed unnaturally, drowning out the sound of sirens that were a few blocks away. A few neighbors were going pale as they realized the severity of the situation. "You two are doctors! You know how science works! You two built and sold weapons to them! Don't pretend to be ignorant and blame it on the fucking ghost flu."

"You disgust me," Jazz continued. She descended the steps and shoved past her parents. Maddie landed on the ground with an oof! "I hope I never have to see you two ever again." She adjusted her bags and started marching toward Nasty Burger, cutting through the crowd like she was fucking Moses. The police were a block away now. She didn't want to be there when they got to the house.

"Where are you going?" Her mother called. Pleaded, really. "We can talk this out!"

Jazz ignored her calls and walked on. When they spotted the murderous look in her eyes, everyone on the sidewalks quickly got out of her way. She had two minutes now, but the others probably wouldn't mind her tardiness. Her phone buzzed, and she snapped it open.

From: TheFuck

4:12pm yo ms evie just blasted ur rant 2 myspace and yt

4:13pm for an old lady she sure has quick fingers

4:13pm dani just showed up at nb we just waitin on u

Rather than replying, Jazz pushed the door to Nasty Burger open and beelined towards the trio's usual table. Tucker was glued to his phone while Sam and Dani mumbled, pouring over several sheets of paper. She tapped Tucker on the head, making him jump.

"I'm already here."

Tucker spun around. "Nocturn's starry underwear, Jazz!" He whined. "You could have just texted me!"

"Didn't feel like it," she shrugged, suddenly feeling very tired. The restaurant was mostly empty, so she threw her stuff into the booth beside them and slid in next to Tucker. The Fenton creep-stick was rested against the edge of the table, acting as a warning. The others had already set aside their bags and weapons in the other booth. Not a single Nasty Burger employee came over to tell them they couldn't have swords at the table, so Jazz didn't bother thinking about it.

Danielle, her free-spirited youngest sister, glanced up at her with a weary smile. She looked rough. The wind had tangled her shorter hair, and her clothes seemed horribly displaced and damp. (She'd passed through a tropical storm half an hour ago.) Dani was swaying where she sat, desperately trying to stay engaged with Sam even though exhaustion was no doubt clawing at her mind.

Jazz felt her mood soften. Sometimes, she had to remind herself that Dani was only a few years old by human and ghost standards. While Danny was also a baby ghost, he had a lot more stamina as a human to make up for it. Flying from New Zealand had taken its toll on the girl.

"Here, Danielle, switch me." Jazz stepped out of the booth, guiding her little sister to sit next to Tucker, who wouldn't mind if the girl fell asleep on his shoulder. Dani didn't protest and conked out almost immediately, soft snores being the only indication she was alive. Sam nodded her greeting and shuffled some papers Jazz's way.

"Here's everything so far," she stated. "We're doing this on paper until Tucker can set up a server."

Jazz flipped through the pages. Each one had a little tab in the corner sticking out so things wouldn't get mixed up. The pages were even color coordinated, just how she liked it. She scanned through sheets of numbers, reports on agent activity, stolen research, manufacturing contracts, and so on. Everything she saw was dated back at least a year, and Sam had taken the time to highlight the discrepancies between all the paperwork. It was the very definition of thorough.

Time for business, I guess, she thought. "To start with, how's the town?"

Tucker got right into it. He turned his PDA around to show her the screen. A tiny map of the town was displayed, with red dots pinned to random spots. "All the monoliths Danny set up are primed and ready. They'll tap into the ley lines in the area to power the ghost shield we set up. I'll set it off when we leave the city borders."

"I called Cujo and Wulf," Sam added. She had a paper version of the town map with more random spots marked in green. "They are rounding up the ghost animals, and I got Grandma Ida to scare a few more human ones into helping. Some of the A-listers are doing a sweep to drive out anyone who stays behind."

"What about the GIW equipment?"

"Dash is getting his football and baseball teams together. Wes is going to load them with a virus before they smash it all to bits."

"Teenage boys are always destructive no matter the species." Jazz remarked dryly. Sam gave her a Look, but she ignored it. Yeah, she was being hypocritical. Who cared? "How's the tracking going?"

Tucker patted the sleeping Danielle on her head. "Thanks to a little miss, I got a lock on his ecto-signature much faster this time. But his aura is big, and we'll still need to raid at least four locations before I can pinpoint him."

Jazz sighed in relief, tilting her head back. Everything was falling into place, and soon, Danny would be safe by her side.

-

Danny woke up with a knife in his chest.

He choked, breathing in the air for the first time in a while. He couldn't feel a heartbeat, but the knife was too close to his core. It was too close to his fractured core. The weapon twisted, digging itself deeper, and he screamed silently in fear. His limbs spasmed, knocking into whoever was standing over him and throwing them across the room with a thud.

Free of the pressing weight, Danny rolled to the side, dropping to the floor and scrabbling at the knife still in his chest. Fabric was tangled with his legs, making it difficult to stand. Had he been placed in a bed? He jerked the knife out, letting it clatter to the ground.

Danny keened as precious ectoplasm leaked from his chest. From his core. Flaps of skin that hadn't healed yet tore back open, ripping fresh scabs and making him lightheaded. Half-formed organs were trying to slip free of his body, and he could barely scoop them back in. His fingers felt thick, and the task seemed endless. What if his core slipped out? How would he know? Could he catch it?

Was this how Dani felt when she was melting? He briefly wondered. A sob tore its way out of his throat. God, everything hurt so much. He tried to inhale, to breathe through the panic attack, but his lungs were either shriveled from disuse or missing. He couldn't breathe. Oh god, he couldn't breathe. The fabric felt like shackles against his legs, stiffing and trapping him further as ice crept through the room. He couldn't feel his lungs, he couldn't feel his heart, he couldn't feel his core. His core was here; he knew it. Where was it? Where was his soul?

Danny curled in on himself, letting go of his skin in favor of shoving a hand into his chest, searching for his tiny core amongst all the ectoplasm and body parts. It was like trying to find a ping pong ball in a pool of Oobleck. The base of his head felt heavy, and he just wanted to cry even more than he already was.

where is it where is it where is it

His body shuddered as Danny started folding in on himself. The heavy feeling got worse. Bones slipped from his joints and pressed oddly against his skin, making it poke out in strange positions. He screwed his eyes further shut as he kept reaching past his ribs. His fingers were ice cold and sent shocks up his spine, making him spasm again. Flimsy organs were slipping past his arm; he tried not to pierce them as they landed back onto the floor with an ugly splat.

Danny kept crying, even as he felt the tips of his fingers finally brush his core. It was ice cold, colder than his skin. He could feel a deep crack in the surface, and he mourned for himself as he pulled his arm back out of his body. He wanted to scream so bad. To yell. To wail. To call for his family and friends and heal in his haunt surrounded by love.

But he didn't have any of that right now. His parents had given him away to the GIW, saying he just needed help, that he just needed to be fixed. That he needed healing. His haunt wasn't safe anymore, and Sam and Tucker had to stay behind to protect the other ghosts. Jazz wasn't even home the last time he checked. And now he was somewhere new, having a meltdown as he lost more blood than he cared to think about. He felt so goopy.

Danny's ears twitched as footsteps rushed towards his room. Was he underground? Everything was echoing. The person he'd tossed sat patiently against the far wall, probably staring at the mess he'd made. He was still whining in a high-pitched kind of way, which was his version of a ghost sob. The door burst open, making him flinch, but he was too weak to defend himself with ice. Danny could only lay there and try to pull himself back together.

-

"The boy is awake."

One of Ra's messengers bowed deeply to him, eyes cast to the floor. The papers he'd been going over were forgotten as he shoved them aside and focused on the messenger.

"I heard he was not due to wake until his organs regrew." Ra's commented lightly.

The messenger's frame tightened up a fraction. "The Demon's Thumb has returned," they intoned. "And has decided to greet the new Demon's Heir."

Ra's hummed, standing up. "I suppose I should have expected this. News does travel quite fast these days." He gestured for the messenger to lead the way, and they stood to do so. The walk from his main office to the medical wing was short as more of his retainers gathered around him. Dr. Vanessa, a thin woman with a vicious fire in her eyes, rushed to join his little circle as they passed the research hall.

"I apologize, sir." She seemed harried, if not a little ticked off. "My calculations must have been off. I-"

"It was not your fault, doctor." Ra's cut her off. "My granddaughter seems to have stopped by for a visit and wanted to pay her respects to the new heir, it seems."

"Ah." Dr. Vanessa's anger at herself vanished, and her face was carefully blank. "In that case, I shall adjust the boy's treatment plan accordingly."

They said nothing else as they approached the boy's room, admittedly at a quick pace. The bind around Ra's heart was urging him forward, to be faster and be by the boy's side when he awoke. The mere knowledge that the boy was in danger made his blood boil as his body revolted against this mind. By the heavens, he couldn't wait for this contract to be fulfilled. He hated magic so much.

Turning the final corner, a loud, keening cry assaulted everyone's ears. Dr. Vanessa flinched. A few guards pulled out their weapons, adopting a more defensive position. Ra's could barely stop himself from rushing through the group during the last few steps. He grits his teeth as another opens the door.

They were treated to the sight of a frost-covered room. The boy was on the floor, tangled in his blankets as he tried to shove unfinished organs, which was a gaping hole that led to nothing. Lazarus water was leaking from his body in copious amounts. His skin was practically translucent, and Ra's could spy his bones shifting unnaturally underneath it all, creating strange angles and planes that did not belong to a human. The boy's eyes were screwed shut, and he was crying even more Lazarus water, but Ra's would bet that his eyes were glowing that same bright green. The keening noise seemed to be coming from him, even though his mouth was shut tight.

Ra's glanced around again. A knife was on the floor next to the boy's head, covered in his blood. Mara al Ghul, his granddaughter and leader of the Demon's Fist, was sitting against the far wall with thick sheets of ice covering her from the neck down, trapping her in place. She was still wearing her mask, so Ra's couldn't see her face, but he knew she wasn't happy. Foolish girl.

Dr. Vanessa glanced at him. "May I approach the patient?" She asked. Ra's nodded his approval, and she cautiously stepped forward, trying to avoid the puddles of bodily fluids.

The doctor knelt, and she adopted a soft look to soothe the boy. "Hello, young man." Her voice dripped with honey. She reached out to tap the boy on his shoulder. "My name is Dr. Vanessa, and I'm-" She got cut off as soon as she made contact. A flash of light blinded everyone, and suddenly, Vanessa was encased with ice. She was essentially a statue now, still with a sweet look on her face.

Interesting. Ra's thought. One of his attendants moved the frozen doctor out of the way so he could walk forward, stopping right at the edge of the Lazarus water.

"Boy," he ordered. "Listen."

The boy's cry petered off at the sound of a human voice and he cracked his eyes open, staring straight at Ra's unblinkingly. He warbled something in a language that grated on everyone's minds. Ra's understood him, though, and switched tongues as easily as he would clothes.

"Boy," he repeated. His voice cracked, and Ra's could feel his granddaughter's burning questions engraved into his back. No one had heard him speak like this before. However, the boy finally opened both eyes wide, which he counted as a win. His interest was piqued. "Boy, listen to me."

The boy's mouth didn't move as he replied, "Hurts..."

"I know. But you are hurting others, and hurting yourself. Let us help."

The boy shivered. "Hurts. Can't. Pain."

"My people will not harm you," Ra's promised. The weight of the promise hung in the air like a bird, and the boy's eyes widened. Making promises in the tongue of the dead was a serious thing. "Calm yourself, and let us help you into bed. You are losing lifeblood. We cannot help if you freeze my people."

A humorless laugh was his reply. "Already dead." The boy informed him. "Almost dead again. It hurts. Please?"

Ra's motioned for the assassins to pick the boy up. He squeezed his eyes shut as hands touched his body but relaxed as one of them handed him his liver like it was a stuffed toy. The ice in the room started melting, releasing the two ladies from their bonds. The attending nurse quickly got to work collecting all the extra things that had fallen out of his body and placing them gently back inside the boy's gaping chest like he was playing Operation.

Once he was situated with all his goopy organs back in his body, the boy tried apologizing to Mara and Vanessa. "Sorry for the cold." He rasped.

Mara glanced at her grandfather, who didn't bother to translate. "I will be informing Mother Soul of this development," she said stiffly before turning and marching out of the room, two assassins at her heel. Dr. Vanessa was likewise escorted out to be taken care of.

Ra's stepped closer to the boy's bed. He didn't pay any mind to the blood, Lazarus goop, and now melting ice that stained his robes; they could be replaced. But he needed answers. He needed to figure out how to get out of this deal with the Gardener. And he needed to know how much power one child could offer him.

"Child." The boy looked lazily up at him. The effort of being awake was taking its toll. "I am Ra's al Ghul, the leader here. May I have your name?"

"Mmm." Some of the boy's bones shifted as he wiggled around, trying to relieve the weird pressure pressing against his skin. Ra's reckoned his whole skeleton might be out of place. "Call me Phantom," he eventually hummed.

Ra's knew that wasn't the boy's true name, but he'd work with it for now. He simply inclined his head in acknowledgment, watching as Phantom started nodding back off to sleep. Oh dear. He couldn't let him rest yet; Ra's needed answers.

"Do you know why you are here, Phantom?"

The boy licked his cracked lips, but still couldn't use his voice. His words were just echoing into the air like he was projecting his thoughts for everyone to hear. "No..."

"You were given to me. By a being who called themselves the Gardener. I am to take care of you."

"In exchange for what?" Phantom was struggling to stay awake. But he instantly caught onto the double meaning, which proved he had a brain somewhere.

Ra's considered his words. "Power," he said simply. "I care for you as if you were my own, and in exchange, you would be the key to granting unimaginable power and knowledge."

Phantom wrinkled his nose but seemed to accept that answer. "Undergrowth is so shady sometimes. But I'll acknowledge the deal between you two. Let me take a quick nap, and then you can let me know what you need..." He trailed off as sleep finally claimed him.

The Demon's Head wasn't pleased that the conversation was cut short, but the bind around his heart had loosened its noose, and he felt it was unavoidable. Now that his foolish granddaughter was out of the way, he would leave and return later. Phantom, while boyish in nature, seemed quite mature once he was lucid enough to talk. Perhaps Ra's wouldn't regret making him the Heir.

-

Jazz was getting antsy. It had been weeks, and they still hadn't found Danny. Raiding GIW bases with just the four of them took a toll on the group, especially since they kept losing supplies (like her beloved creep-stick, RIP). A few times, Danielle had to fly off and keep the peace in other cities, as the ghosts were finding different ways into the mortal realm now that Amity was shut off from the world. She'd taken up Danny's name as Phantom and was exhausted from flying across the country constantly. So, really, it was mostly the three of them.

Luckily, Kitty and Johnny showed up recently, and Dani got them to spread the word about Danny's disappearance and the group's country-wide manhunt. No ghosts had shown up since then.

"We're here," Tucker snapped her out of her thoughts, pulling her to an instant stop. This was one of the four bases Tucker had narrowed their search to. They'd destroyed the other three, gathering evidence and doing what was necessary to defeat the agents inside. And now they were standing in front of the final one, deep inside Yellowstone National Park. It looked like a rest stop with a bathroom, but Jazz knew that the compound was actually underground and most likely ten times the size of the shack.

Sam wrinkled her nose. "This place looks abandoned," She noticed. "At least the others had a front going on. I don't want to ride in a dirty bathroom that's really an elevator. I'd rather go back and fight those creepy clown performers from the pizza place."

"I can just phase us down." Danielle offered.

Jazz shook her head. "Nah, you need to save your energy, kiddo. Who knows how deep this one is."

Tucker crouched, fiddling with his PDA. "This spot does have a front," he told Sam. "It's a rare geocache spot. The only hint for it online that I can find is a shitty riddle that was posted, like, last week."

"Oh, what is it?"

"Uh, here. It says:

Below the keep, just six feet deep, lays a weathered path, born from wrath. A white beast rests, who troubles his guests, so find the key, and beware the banshee."

Danielle snorted. "You're right. That riddle sucks. Who wrote that? Skulker?"

Jazz smiled but considered the words seriously. "I mean, it seems pretty literal if you know the context behind it. Why not search for the cache and see if it has a key?"

"Good idea."

With that plan in mind, the four split up to scan the terrain. None of them had ever been geocaching before, but it was a popular tourist activity around Amity. It shouldn't be that hard, could it?

The answer was yes, it was. The group searched for an hour before Tucker finally gave in and sat on a log to take a break. The log promptly crumbled in half, and Tucker shouted in surprise as he landed ass-first on a hard tackle box.

"Oh, come on!" He groaned. "This log isn't even made of plastic! It's cardboard! Who makes a geocache out of cardboard?? It literally rained last night, my ass is wet now!"

Danielle giggled for the first time in weeks. Jazz ruffled her hair, earning a swat of protest, and then walked over to help Tucker to his feet. Sam swooped in to claim the first dibs on the box as soon as he was clear.

The lock was no issue for her as she simply bashed it open with a sharp rock. Sam seemed eager to find more clues and crowed triumphantly when she dug out a key card still attached to a GIW lanyard. "Fucking finally!"

"Good job, Sam." The four gathered around the tackle box. The card seemed legit, right down to the near-invisible security numbers engraved on the back. Their enhanced eyesight allowed them to spot that detail, which was a blessing when sniffing out fake leads.

Dani shot up excitedly. The fact that they were so close to finding Danny renewed the spark in her eyes. "I'll go look for the entrance!" She sped off, turning invisible to avoid any inside cameras. She found it within minutes, and returned to share the good news.

It was, indeed, in the tiny bathroom.

Sam groaned. "I need to learn to keep my mouth shut."

"I'm fine with that, honestly. You loud-mouthed mother-OW!" Tucker stumbled through the doorway to the bathroom, too slow to avoid the whack Sam had given him.

"That's 'loud-mouthed BITCH' to you," she scolded playfully.

The eldest shook her head and ignored them. The bathroom truly was tiny, and hadn't seen the loving touch of a mop in years. Spiders were making webs in the corners and Jazz was pretty sure something had been using the toilet as a litter box. It looked awful and smelled even worse. A smug look from Danielle told her that the girl had simply stopped breathing, and therefore didn't have to deal with the scent of actual bear shit.

She ignored Danielle, too. Jazz could feel her little sister's smugness radiating as they searched everywhere for the secret card scanner. Jazz couldn't stop her organs at will yet, and the twins always took full advantage of that to mess with her. They eventually figured out that the empty soap dispenser was what they were looking for, and the scanner beeped when they swiped the card. The whole room started to shake as they moved down.

Sam and Tucker stopped their petty back-and-forth as they heard the grinding of the elevator cable. "When was the last time this was used?" Tucker sounded alarmed.

"Probably when they built it." Sam grimaced at the sight of the dirty toilet water moving and pointedly moved to stare at the wall. "I want to set myself on fire right now. This is so gross."

"I'll hand you the match."

"I will douse you in gasoline, Tucker."

"Not the time, guys!" Jazz glanced at the ceiling, where she imagined the cable would connect. It squealed and screeched, but eventually, the world's worst elevator trip came to an end, and the one wall with nothing attached to it split open to reveal the pristine tunnel of a GIW facility. All four of them bolted for the hallway, and not just because they were eager to start trashing the place.

"Danny better fucking be here because I do not want to ride that thing ever again." Gasping, Sam rested her arms on her legs, breathing in stale, underground air. At least it didn't stink.

Danielle giggled again (that was twice now!!) and changed forms. "I'll go scout ahead," she informed them. Jazz bid her good luck before she faded from visibility. She wasn't too worried about the girl. Dani had her radio and knew to avoid GIW sensors as a ghost.

Tucker lay on the ground, staring into nothing while they waited. "My ass is still wet," he commented after a few moments of silence.

"No one needs to know that, Tucker."

"Too bad. I might get a rash from this. Did you know I ran out of underwear last week? I'm on my last pair, and now I'm gonna get a fucking diaper rash from them."

Sam gagged. "That's disgusting. Don't tell me this shit. I'm cursing your bloodline just for that."

"You gotta tell me these things," Jazz chided. "I would have gotten you a new set."

Tucker waved his arm in a 'whatever' motion. "Eh, honestly, it isn't that bad right now. I've done worse. Danny and I once tried to see how long we could go without showering or changing in middle school. I went two weeks before my parents hog-tied me and hosed me down in the front yard. Danny managed to go a full month before you did the same."

Realization struck Jazz and her eyes widened. "That's what that was about? Oh my god, he was yowling like a cat when I caught him, and it took three rounds of shampoo just to wash his hair! He's never forgiven me for it!"

"Sounds about right." Tucker shrugged. "I promised him a ticket to the observatory if he won, but you caught him the day of the showing, and he missed it."

"Why don't I remember this?" Sam demanded.

"It was right before y'all moved to town. It's the incident that caused the 'Fenturd' nickname."

Jazz put her head in her hands and groaned. Sometimes, she really wanted to smack her brother.

Danielle popped back into existence, making all three of them jump. Her mood had drastically changed, and she seemed really uncomfortable. "As interesting as that story is, and I definitely want to hear about it later," she said nervously. "This whole place has already been raided. There's no one here except a couple of soulless bodies. And an open portal. Someone was here before us."

All three shot up. "Lead the way," Jazz demanded. Everyone ran down the still-pristine hallway. Barely any dust had settled, and none of them smelled blood. Who had gotten here first?

They slid to a stop before a big metal door. Dani ducked through it to open it from the other side, and everyone was assaulted with the smell of rotting bodies and days-old blood as soon as it started moving. The door was literally so thick it had trapped everything inside. Including some agents, it seemed. A few bodies were pressed against the door and fell toward them when it opened. Tucker screeched and jumped back.

Sam, a true crime girlie at heart, crouched to examine the closest one. "Their fingers are worn through, almost to the bone," she noticed. "I bet if we closed the door again, we'd find scratch marks."

Dani floated above the corpses. "Yeah, it looks like something cut off all the exits and hunted them one by one."

"But what killed them?"

Sam toed a body until it flipped over. The eyes of the agent had been ripped from their skull, and frostbite warped their skin so bad she couldn't tell what their original features were. Danielle floated closer to Jazz, looking highly uncomfortable. "Danny's ecto is all over the place," she whispered. "He was definitely here."

"Right." Jazz hardened her heart. She was here to find her brother, not feel sorry for brutally mutilated government agents. "Let's get going. Stick to the battle buddy system, and keep your comms on."

They proceeded cautiously, only touching a body if it blocked their path or to find a key card. Tucker remarked that if this was a horror game, he probably would have played it, but living it was so much worse. Every single corpse had its eyes removed, and it was starting to wear on Jazz's mind. Dani mentioned their souls were gone, too.

Eventually, after some detours and backtracking, they reached the labs where Danny would have been held. Rage filled Jazz's chest as she saw ectoplasm mixed in with the bloodstains. A table had been set up to restrain a ghost with specialized handcuffs that had FENTONWORKS printed across them in bright green letters. Shattered glass was scattered across the floor and a few organs were decaying quite rapidly. A scientist was slumped across the table, a small knife still in hand. Jazz kicked the corpse.

Without Danielle telling her, she could feel it. This is where Danny had been tortured. Probably vivisected, too. Those were his organs that were rotting on the floor. His blood stains the ceiling. She was seeing red. She wanted to scream. Her baby brother had been tortured by these horrible people, and she didn't even get to kill them??

Danielle tugged on her arm, quietly bringing her back to herself. "The portal," she reminded Jazz. "It's in the next room."

"Sam, Tucker, see what you can recover from in here." Jazz gritted her teeth and let Dani guide her away from that room. "Dani's gonna show me the portal. Scream if you need us."

"Be careful!" Sam called back.

They left the room, going two doors down to what looked like a near-perfect copy of the Fenton's lab. She stiffened as she spied the portal. It wasn't set into the wall like the original but rather floated a few feet in the air in front of it. It looked like a tear in reality, similar to something Wulf could make, but on a much larger scale. She felt dwarfed by it, and dreaded to think about what could come through a portal this size.

Dani pointed out some blinking computers, the only ones still with power inside the entire compound. "They were working on a new portal," she said. "The Fentons sold their research. I'm not sure how we missed it, but they were really close to getting it figured out."

"This isn't from the GIW?" Jazz asked, gesturing to the behemoth of a disaster still swirling next to them.

"No, I don't think so," Danielle zoned out. Her eyes glowed, and she looked at things Jazz couldn't see. "This was opened from the other side. I think someone broke in, took Danny, and left after killing everyone."

"Someone from the Ghost Zone?" Jazz frowned. She bent over the computer, trying to click around for security footage. "But who do we know that is strong enough to kill everyone so physically? Vlad swore to never interact with us again, even if it was life or death. Undergrowth would have left plants behind, Nocturn doesn't like killing in the mortal realm, and Vortex can't sustain himself underground. None of the normal rogues are strong enough, either. Unless they got Desiree to help?"

"Nah, she may be a bitch, but she refuses to participate in murder of any kind. Plus, she's a neat freak. This isn't her work. It isn't Ghost Writer either; he doesn't like writing horror stories."

"What about Frostbite or Pandora?"

Dani wrinkled her nose. "Maybe? Frostbite is a pacifist who is more likely to rescue Danny without killing anyone. And the portal is too small to let Pandora through. She could've sent her warriors, though."

"It was Danny."

Jazz glanced up from the computer. Sam and Tucker were standing in the door, looking pale.

"We pulled recordings from the labs dating back two months. Danny was the one who killed everyone."

"...Pardon? It's only been a few weeks since he disappeared."

"I don't know." Tucker frantically typed away at his PDA, pulling up the downloaded footage and shoving it in Jazz's face. "But it's definitely him. I pulled their files, too. They were looking into time travel, Jazz. The day Danny showed up in their records, Operative K and Operative O were also logged in, even though they were 100% still in Amity during that time. They suddenly added on the time travel stuff a day later."

Jazz zoned out, numb to Tucker's near-hysterical rant. She just watched the tiny screen blankly as Danny was tortured over and over again but refused to give up the secrets the agents were asking for. Every time he refused, he was punished by having his organs taken away and put into jars for study. Then he'd be pumped full of pure ectoplasm, and just like Prometheus, he was back the next day with fresh organs for harvest. The dates in the recording went back weeks. Way before Danny disappeared.

Dani sobbed and looked away from the screen. Jazz couldn't even blink. The turning point in the experiments was when they brought in a little girl, a human girl, in front of Danny. The girl was about five, probably homeless or kidnapped, with pretty blonde hair done up in pigtails. Jazz noted she had been crying and had the number '27' pinned to her shirt. Danny was wary, sure it was a trick until he spotted something off-screen that they couldn't see. He jerked forward, straining to reach the girl, panic in his eyes.

But he couldn't reach her. Two scientists simply wrote down some observations before nodding in the same direction Danny was looking. Without asking a single question, the agents killed the little girl in front of Danny.

Jazz's hands shook as tears filled her eyes. Danny, her sweet baby brother, looked on in horrified shock as the cameras switched. Agents dumped the girl's body in a barrel of ectoplasm and waited patiently until a blue wisp rose from it. Then, using a Fenton peeler, they zapped the child's soul without mercy. Normally, the peeler stripped the disguise off a ghost to reveal their real form. But to a fresh soul as weak as that?

Her soul was burned into nothing.

Danny started screaming and imploded in on himself like a star.

The camera blacked out for a few moments, flickering between glimpses of her brother and blackness. She barely recognized him. His form had warped into something unrealistic. Something straight out of a movie. He was impossibly large now, barely able to walk on two legs when he stood amongst his broken restraints. His chest was a gaping cavern, and when he turned towards the camera, she could spy his tiny core exposed to the world. It was acting like a black hole, pulling at Danny's own skin and flesh like it was trying to suck him in. It was beautiful and strange in a horrible way.

He was too fast for the camera to really keep up with, but Tucker had doctored it to slow down each frame. Danny's face was splitting in two from a silent scream. His hair was flowing wildly, falling over his body, so it looked like he had a white, shaggy cloak.

His hunt never stopped. He didn't slow or hesitate to pounce on everyone he saw. His body was stained red from the gouging of people's eyes, which was the fastest way to reach a human soul. The group watched in horror as Danny leaned over his victims, opening his splitting maw even wider and devouring every soul he could, ensuring that they wouldn't even get peace in death. The churning of his core was getting worse, and at some point, he was spreading ice with every step he took. It looked like he was really struggling to stay standing by the time a few scientists were the only ones left in the compound. Jazz was afraid of what would happen if he collapsed completely. Would his core devour him?

At some point, the cameras really did die, and the screen went dark. Jazz realized she was crying, and moved to give the PDA back to Tucker.

"There's more," he shook his head. "But we didn't watch that far ahead because an outside force added it when I downloaded everything."

Like he said, the screen crackled back to life after a moment. The group realized it was from Danny's point of view. All the agents were dead, and he was stumbling through the halls in a daze, unable to keep his bigger form. He finally made it to the room they were in now, probably drawn to the familiarity of the lab layout. Before he could reach the unfinished portal, however, the freestanding one opened and out stepped a very familiar figure.

"Clockwork?" Jazz muttered, surprised.

As if hearing his name, Clockwork looked directly through Danny, straight at her. "The flow of time has been disrupted." He said softly. "I'll take our young Guardian here to a safe place. We have much to talk about, Miss Jasmine. You, too, Samantha, Tucker, and Danielle. I'll see you soon."

Then, the older ghost's focus switched back to Danny, and it was like he'd never spoken to them at all.

"Daniel," he coaxed. "It's time to go."

Danny groaned but stumbled forward and passed out in Clockwork's arms, promptly ending the video.

Silence descended over the room. Jazz could hear blood rushing through her body, and her heartbeat was pounding in her ears. She thought over what they'd found in the facility, about the state of Amity Park, her parents, and most importantly, her brother. About how he was tortured to the brink of insanity and how he still found it in his heart to love others. To protect them. To care and grieve for someone he'd never met. He must be feeling so much hurt.

Deciding on the next step was easy.

"We need to find Clockwork."

-

[I realized the timeline is kinda confusing, and I promise it'll all match up in the next chapter, but here's a chart on what it looks like right now so it's easier to understand.]

[The top one is the timeline Ra's and the rest of the DC characters are on. The middle is Jazz and the others. Danny is separate from both timelines right now because of the Time Medallion that Dan forced into his core. Right before the start of the story, which is marked in bright colors, Danny and the agents he's traveling with get involved in a time anomaly and are transported two months into the past. The agents still take him to the Yellowstone compound, but the incident makes the GIW speed-run their research on the Ghost Zone and, now, time travel. The timelines sync up again when Tucker finds the video from Clockwork. The total amount of time that has passed since the start of the story to the sync-up is about three weeks.]

[blahpanblah]

Okay, I’ve been wanting to make a book that was basically one big Gothic literature mash-up of mostly all of the stories you can think of into one big storyline. Maybe I’ll talk about it more one day but I want to share this one idea.

One storyline I want to make is a friendship between The Creature and Jekyll. Without going into TOO much detail, because what I want to do has some BIG differences between what happens in the original story.

But you have the Creature, who is a big walking, moving, breathing corpse. Who has no memory of who they are and have to discover who they truly are on their own with no one to take care of them.

And you got Jekyll and Hyde, who, in a nutshell, is basically having one big gender euphoria moment/Identity crisis. Both not having a clear idea of who they really are. “Is he Jekyll? is he Hyde? Something in between? Or someone else entirely?”

Both of who have no idea who they are or who they want to become. So the both of them I feel like would have a good dynamic. The two of them being supportive for each other, helping each other doing the other’s own self-respective crises/meltdown.

Not to mention it’s funny to imagine Hyde riding on the creature’s shoulders. (Something Jekyll would never do admittedly but Hyde has no shame so it’s fine.) While Jekyll could be teaching the creature doctor stuff. Both being nerds and chaotic duo.

And when it comes to a fight, Hyde and the creature are both wearing for one. With Hyde being the most antsy. And Jekyll, true to his occupation, would be team doctor. Maybe even berating the two, especially his other self, for any injuries.

[what-gs-watching]

“What good did love do, Doctor? When did it ever help?”

So I spent last week at my parent’s house finally pulling off the surprise birthday party I’d been planning for months for my mother and I was there for farrrrr too long and I ate waaaay too much and I only had six days from when I got home to get my head right and ready to start a new job after nine effing months of doing nothing. 

I’m starting on Monday and I’m super anxious about it, and everyone is posting about what’s going on with Doctor Who so obviously I decided to let Ruby and 15 turn my brain off for a bit, it’s the least they can do. Maybe that was a mistake, because woooooof y’all. I’m devastated that the season is already over. 

And as such, we def need to talk about both of these episodes at the same time. 

The Legend of Ruby Sunday / Empire of Death

Wherein, The Doctor and Ruby show up to UNIT to finally ask about the old woman they keep running into on their adventures, and immediately very purposefully fall into a trap. 

I have to say, as much as I love 15, baby boy has NOT been very observant this season. He’s caught up in having fun and showing his feelings and all of that is fantastic and beautiful but if this had been 10 or 11 they would have been mulling over this situation the entirety of the season and I probably wouldn’t feel so much like I just got whiplash. 

Like, the internet has been telling me to think about this random ass lady, instead of seeing the Doctor trying to puzzle her out in his downtime. And that’s the first time I’ve really thought to myself, ‘this is incredibly unlike the doctor.’ But we’re going to let it slide, because he’s otherwise charmed the pants off of me.

There was a lot I was definitely about in these episodes, in no particular order - 

OBVIOUSLY, the Rose / Ruby bonding. Absolutely adorable. They immediately gravitated to each other and I love that. It’s so sweet. And I’ll take ANY scrap of 14 I can get, but 15 asking ‘how’s your uncle?’ really made me greedy for more. Couldn’t my girl Rose given like, even the smallest cute little anecdote? Like ‘oh, he’s really into gardening right now…’ or something? Gimme like, even the littlest bit. I neeeed it. But fine. 

15’s outfits. I’ve loved all of the stuff they’ve put him in all season but HELLO that leather jacket and the cozy sweater he had on in the mish mash TARDIS? Gorgeous. Beautiful. I want to buy it right now.

Also, the mish mash TARDIS itself, and the little kiss 15 gives it at one point. Love all the random throwbacks inside that little thing even if I don’t know most of them because no, I never went back and watched the original seasons, so sue me. I’m pretty sure I spotted 11’s little scanner tv thing though, and I love that. I miss Matt Smith. 

And the Doctor lashing out and punching the wall and huffing and puffing and screaming and then Mel giving him a kick in the ass. I’m going to keep talking about how I love that 15 is actually okay with showing his feelings, but I do think he got too lost in them. We all been there, boo. But like, you heard that sick TARDIS sound (that’s going to haunt my dreams) and you were just like ‘oh I’ve heard that before’? BOY you are so distracted. 

Anyway, I’m vaguely aware there’s background on Sutekh that I should probably google if I want to fully understand the situation, but I’m not gonna do it. I accept that it’s the god of death and the doctor fought it once and banished it to the time vortex, but I have to say, I find the rest of the storyline a little bit weird. It hitched a ride on the TARDIS and traveled with the Doctor for basically untold amounts of time and no one ever noticed? And it’s appearance is NOT related to 14 casting that salt at the end of the universe, even though it was pretty clear that the rest of the random god appearances were? 

I guess I’m willing to accept all of that, but gang. Here’s the thing. After all of that time traveling around and watching the Doctor do what he does (and admittedly trying to sabotage him by planting harbingers? I guess? Wherever they went?) you’re still not going to kill him right off when you finally hatch your plot? You KNOW he gets out of things. You know he literally gets out of everything. You’ve watched him wiggle his way out of shit because his adversaries have given him an inch but you’re like ‘it’s fine, that won’t be me, because I REALLY need to know who this random human’s mother is?’ 

Nah. Nah nah nah. Like, maybe if you had really tried to kill him and he got out of it, I’d be like, ‘okay fine’ but that death cloud was half-assed and they beat it on like, a moped. 

If we’re going with real scary gods that have literally the power of basically everything, I’m gonna want their actions to make sense. 

I also have to admit that when the Doctor was monologuing about how the whole thing was his fault, when he said about all of the things he’s done “I thought it was fun”, I found myself thinking about how he really has been playing a game of his own devising and maybe he…shouldn’t. And it felt like maybe he thought that, too. Like, when is it gonna be enough for him? 

The point is, It’s super sweet that Ruby got to figure her shit out, they got me I cried at all of that, but the whole thing did feel a little disjointed to me. Which is fine, because now I’m sitting here like, ‘yo I need more’ but there isn’t more, not for forever, and clearly that’s how they get you. The arch wasn’t a cliff hanger really but also it kind of was and I’m unsatisfied. Maybe that’s the point. 

And I do now agree with Tumblr that the most interesting thing in all of this is how 14 and Donna reacted to the death cloud, and their reconstitution, and the realization that Rose was at UNIT during the entire thing - that’s going to occupy my brain for a really long time.

At the end of the day, eight episodes was not enough. But I’m SO  endeared to 15 and I love the direction the show is going, haters can hate all they want but Doctor Who was always weird and it was always for outcasts and it’s beautiful and stupid and silly and wonderful. Wonderful and perfectly imperfect. 

Friends, this season came at a time I really needed it. I'm thankful it helped me through my forced work hiatus, it's part of the tapestry that kept me going. And that's the good that love does. Doctor Who, I love you.

[avastyetwats]

Continued from here. @fornassau

"I look huge? You've seen yourself, Charles. We both know who the larger one is between the two of us." He made a face after saying that, realizing how filthy that must have sounded but he absolutely did not mean it that way. But he couldn't disagree with looking a little scary, he's heard that before. Probably didn't help that he didn't smile much. He had a nice smile, something he's been told when he did smile, but he just... didn't show it much. His attention returns to the girls being held by his boyfriend when he introduces them both and he gives them a little wave accompanied with that kind smile of his which widens when Lily finally peeks out from Charles's chest and says hi, shy as can be. "You're very welcome. Made sure to dust it off for you, too." He adds with a chuckle, following Charles deeper into his home.

"Of course." He nods, taking the flowers back as he follows him into his kitchen. He remembers where some things are from his last few visits here, but never needed to know where the vases were so it took him a couple of minutes to locate them, opening and closing a few cabinets until he found the correct one. It was during his first visit he learned how much Charles adored porcelain and he'd been reminded of it right now after opening said cabinets and finding more. It was cute, really. Incredibly so. "Yes, it would appear you have your hands quite full at the moment." He chuckles, what with Charles holding both girls in his arm. That is until he set Ellie down on the ground and she immediately hurried to the table and climbed onto the seat. "Does she? And she believes that I'm a good man? Are you so sure of that, Little Lily?" He questions in a plafyul tone, daring to reach forward and tickle her tummy which actually elicited a giggle from her lips. That made James beam ecstatically.

It wasn't that James was necessarily bad with kids. He was just... a little awkward at first. Took him just a few minutes to warm up, but it did help that Charles knew these girls. That they were related. It made James more comfortable... at ease, even if he had panicked earlier thinking they were his. But seeing Charles holding them... how good he was with them... how natural it all was for him... it made James feel... soft. Warm. Made him a little less scared of the future and a little more sure of what he wanted. Admittedly, someday he did want to be a father, he'd often thought of long before meeting Charles, but... tragedy struck and his life changed. Now, it had changed again, but for the better, finally. And gods if Charles didn't look good like this. He'd be an incredible father. Already was, really.

He snaps from his daze when he hears Charles's voice, cheeks a little red from the thoughts he'd been thinking, and he nods, clearing his voice. "Sure. The plans I originally had were suddenly canceled, so it would appear I'm available." He teases his boyfriend, showing he wasn't at all upset about their date being canceled. It didn't have to be, really. "We can still consider this a date, I think." He smiles at him, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek before he glances at Lily. "Mashed peas?" He gently gasps. "I think I might want what she's having." He chuckles, filling the vase with water and setting the flowers in them. "Ellie, where do you think I should put these?" Oh, he was falling right into it with ease.

[silverhart-makes-art]

My main thought of this week's Bestiary Posting was - it's got hooves and horns so I get to draw another ungulate! Hooray!

This week's creature is the basekhwa. We know it is an ungulate due to references to horns and hooves! We know that is has keen hearing (at least when it's ears are pricked), that it eats snakes, has a long coat that it sheds, and can run and leap great distances. That's a lot of information for sure, but doesn't give us the clearest picture other then 'ungulate'.

I ended up focusing on the snake-eating idea - I know that cows have been found eating snakes (ungulates eating small animals is not actually that unusual), so I knew I wanted to do a bovine.

While cattle are surprisingly agile, I decided I wanted my basekhwa to look like an animal capable of leaping and running great distances. So I decided to combine my cow with the Tibetan antelope, another bovid known for it's yearly migration. If you've never seen a Tibetan antelope, they kind of look like if a goat decided to become a reindeer and also grew some antelope horns. So really just making a mish-mash creature out of an already mish-mash creature. The horns are also based on the Tibetan antelope, though I deliberately curled them in such a way that they are perfect for scooping up a snake from the ground for a quick munch. I've decided to interpret the 'keen hearing when ears are up and can't hear when ears are down' to just having super fluffy ears that just sort of muffle sounds when they're lowered and thus full of fluff.

Lastly, I gave it a nice shaggy coat, which this basekhwa will likely shed after she finishes with this snake. I've decided to draw this basekhwa spearing a serpent with her horns, next to some (admittedly very stylized) dittany. As for the pose, I feel sure I've seen depictions of unicorns in the same pose (and trained horses of course). I think one of the Unicorn Tapestries shows one in a similar pose, so maybe that's what I was thinking of. I'm not sure. Regardless, I think it came out very 'feral unicorn-esque' which I think is great.

[hesgomorrah]

Until a few minutes ago I've never thought about Trapcahy but it seems intriguing tbh. Can you maybe share a few Trapcahy moments to get me started?

(Also I'm totally looking forward to the Trapcahy spanking fic now!)

Oh my god, hi, thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about them! Admittedly Trapcahy is a crackship that got wildly out of hand so there isn't actually a ton to point to in the show itself, a lot of it is just extrapolating, but they definitely have their moments that you can watch with shipping goggles on. Also sorry this is so many words, you activated my trap (heh) card. The important bits are in bold.

I tried to pick a top three episodes, but really it's a top four: Requiem for a Lightweight, Showtime, Life With Father, and Alcoholics Unanimous are probably the ones that give us the most to work with in terms of their dynamic. But they have lots of little moments sprinkled throughout the show! Trapper "shooting craps with the chaplain" (😏) in Sometimes You Hear the Bullet, their conversation in Mail Call, the opening scene of Rainbow Bridge ("Be good, and if you can't be good, be careful." "Aren't we lucky to have such a nice Father?"). Mulcahy watches Trapper make out with a nurse in L.I.P. (twice if you count Bulletin Board) and Trapper feeds him by hand in House Arrest and kisses his cheek in Kim. And I can't for the life of me remember the episode, but there's a scene where Trapper is pouring Mulcahy a drink at a party, and he says "Not too much, I'm praying later :)" and Trapper gives a side glance as if he'd been thinking he was about to get laid this whole time. (EDIT: It's Dear Dad Three!)

But mostly what interests me about Trapcahy is more their potential than what we actually see on-screen, just due to the relatively low-drama, ensemble nature of the seasons of MASH that Trapper was actually in. It's never explicitly stated in the show, but it's heavily implied on a number of occasions that Trapper was raised Catholic and now has a rocky at best relationship with the Church; I'm also very interested in the reading of Mulcahy as a closeted gay man, but each of those could be an essay unto themselves. The way I see them, they're two people with the specific experience of growing up both queer and very Irish Catholic in a big city, surrounded by suburban WASPs, and that gives them the unique potential to both heal and hurt each other in a way I don't think any other shipping partner could give either of them. They're mirrors in a way, two wildly different individuals that are the product of incredibly similar circumstances, and I think that's a fascinating space to play in!

[novantinuum]

heya! :D I'm so happy I found your blog, I just did a su rewatch this summer and I'm obsessed again! I was wondering if you had some fic recs to share? especially any and all that deal with steven's trauma (whether that be corruption aftermath, his abandonment issues, any of the traumatic experiences he had), anything really, just some nice and thorough hurt/comfort and healing <3 definitely up to any other recs you might have, even if they're about something completely different haha. thank you in advance!!

Ooooh heck yeah I can rec some of my favs! Admittedly, these days I haven't been reading that much new fic, so I'm not sure what new stuff is out there that's gone unnoticed, but I went through my bookmarks and found a few fics that still stand out to me today as ones I remember really vibing with when I read them-

First off, some fics that I remember delving into Steven's trauma (along other things)-

Aid to Navigation, by Ppleater (or @infriga here on tumblr)

Honest to god, this is my favorite Steven Universe fic on the whole goddamn internet. Post I Am My Monster hurt/comfort content galore. Emotional catharsis out the wazoo. Fascinating theorization about how Steven works as a hybrid. Sometimes there's even chapter artwork. ALSO NANEFUA AS AN IMPORTANT CHARACTER, WHICH I RARELY SEE LET'S GO NANEFUA

a world for the birds, by @fanfoolishness

Do you like Uncle Andy? Do you vibe with the idea of bird watching? Do you wanna read about Andy's outsider observations of the trajectory of his nephew's bizarre life as he shares his hobby of bird watching with Steven as a bonding activity over the years moving into the events of Steven Universe: Future??

Go read this fic, it destroys me. In fact, just do yourself a favor and check out this author's whole catalogue, because my next fic rec is from her, too.

Comminuted, by @fanfoolishness

Post Growing Pains hurt/comfort focused on Steven and his dad's relationship. I remember this one dropping pretty damn soon after the episode aired and it w r e c k e d my emotions and gave me all the catharsis my sappy little heart desired at the time.

WELCOME BACK TO THE VLOG, steven universe here! by waddlesthejoghog (or @thisisnotacreativeusername here on tumblr)

Here's a story with a COMPLETELY different format than all the others- this one chronicles Steven's life through a variety of videos he posts to his TubeTube channel over the years. (Which, if you watch the SU shorts, is a canonical fun fact about him! He posts unboxing videos and reactions and stuff online, ahah.)

Each chapter sorta like, "transcribes" what's happening in the video, and there's even a little views/likes/dislikes/subscriber count + mock comments section at the end of every one! I found it a very charming and fun read- but also it punched me in the face by the end because it's like a whole microcosm of Steven's character development throughout the entire show mashed into one 59 chapter story.

This one is not wholly focused on Steven's trauma, as it spans the events of the entire show, but that does play a decently big role later on in the fic.

__

As a quick little self-plug, I've also written a good deal of fics focused on various shades of Steven's traumatic experiences, and the following is (probably) my favorite of those:

A Memoir of the Marks Unseen (uhh... by me lol)

This one is focused on the topic of Steven + the headcanon of him having corruption scars like the other healed Gems, and picks up pretty soon after I Am My Monster. It spans months (and later Years) after that, detailing his journey towards accepting these remnants as a neutral part of him. I'm still very proud of finishing it, as I was pulling from some raw personal experience with this one.

__

Lastly, here's two Connie focused fics I remember slapping ass in their own various ways:

Xenopology, by CompletelyDifferent

Some Connie + all the Gems character study pieces!

The Stranger in Me, by Cyberwraith9

Connie accidentally gets perma-bonded with a poofed gemstone retrieved from a corrupted Gem. Hijinks ensue. I remember this one having a legendary level of character development for Connie and her whole family especially ;w;

[dathomirdumpsterfire]

~~Chapter 2~~

(Ao3 link at the bottom, updates Tuesdays)

Ben has been to a fair number of memorably awkward dinners in his life. From soothing the inevitable culture shock of new dignitaries come to orbit the galactic senate, to peace treaty signings that ended in assassinations rather than weddings; between being a traveling jedi master and living on the ecumenopolis that is Coruscant… he has seen a thing or two. 

Yet somehow this dinner was going to make the greatest hits list of phenomenally awkward events.

"Here Ben, have some more topato salad," Beru offers, nudging the bowl toward him.

He isn’t very hungry after all the rest of the admittedly fine meal, but discretion is indeed the better part of valor. The jedi-in-exile takes another two spoonfuls rather than decline. He plans to stretch the two bites to six or seven tiny ones.

"Thank you, Beru," Ben says with a smile. "I must say, your creativity with topato is astounding. I really didn't know you could do this many things with them." 

Across the table, Owen is trying to light him on fire with his eyes. He ignores the other man. He has nothing on Mace in a mood, and there really isn’t anything for it. Either the moisture farmer would come to like him well enough, or he would not .

Besides, Luke is sitting in his highchair, talking baby nonsense and gumming adorably at mashed topatos. How could anyone be in a bad mood around that* ? If Owen manages to keep his snit going, Ben will simply have to write it off as a chronic and incurable condition.

"I think the topato cakes are a new favorite of mine," he throws out, trying to keep the conversation topic of root vegetables going as long as possible, "Although the casserole was a close second. The hass… hmm… what was it you called it? The accordion cuts on the full one?"

"A 'hasselback'," Beru offers, preening about it, and clearly ignoring Owen’s grumpiness as well. "My grandpa taught me how to do that one."

"Ah yes! That was it. The hasselback was particularly impressive, and rather fun to eat."

He means that, too. When half your crop is topatoes and you come up with this many different ways to prepare them, it really is impressive.

Beru pats his hand, "I'm so glad you've enjoyed everything, Ben. Don't worry, I'll send you home with leftovers."

"Don't spoil me too much!" he jokes with a laugh, but speaks from a place of honesty. It isn't like he has a conservator to put anything in.

Luke replies for the room, big blue eyes squinting closed as he squeals happily, just a hair below the frequency needed to crack glass. Beru snorts at the baby, tidying his face and returning several spoons of mash from highchair table to infant-sized bowl. Even Owen's frown pulls up a hint in amusement.

Conversation fails to pick back up after Luke's outburst though. Alas, the root vegetable topic has run its course. Ben focuses intently on his tiny bites of creamy, oniony salad.

The chatter hasn't been dead more than a minute when he catches Beru giving her husband a black look. Owen tries to dodge its potency by hiding behind a mouthful of bread roll, but that only takes him so far. 

Suddenly the man jumps, banging a knee on the underside of the table… almost like someone had stomped on his foot down there.

Ben inspects his shiny, scratched up dinner spoon, and waits.

There's another stint of quiet while they get into it in silence, speaking in the wordless language of couples everywhere. There's eyerolls, pointed glances toward the couch, flat looks, and raised brows. 

Ben can tell that Owen has lost when the man actually speaks more than five words in a row for the first time all night. 

"Say… wizard. There's something I want to ask you," he prods, gruff.

The jedi perks up, trying to exude friendliness. "Certainly, what is it?" 

"Luke's grandma was allergic to somethin' in vizza wheat. Was wondering if you knew how to check for that without doin’ it the hard way."

"Or if you knew if either of his parents had…?" Beru adds. 

Ben rubs his chin thoughtfully, grateful for the regrowth of hair that had somehow come back in much fuller than before, despite no change in habit. Perhaps he was simply acclimatizing?

"Now that I think about it, Anakin would get a stomach ache if he ate too much bread. I would guess it was simply a mild gluten intolerance? Luke could have that as well."

Owen looks down at the remains of breadroll in his hands, skeptical. "He was intolerant of something in all  bread?" 

Ben shakes his head in a negative, hands lowering. "Different flours can have very little or a great deal of gluten. A little was fine for him, like the bread needed for a kebob or fried food? But a bread pudding would give him indigestion for hours, and make him cranky besides."

Beru smiles, seemingly more pleased than the conversation warranted. "Well that's good to know! We'll have to try giving our little man here just a bit, and see how he does." 

"So we do it the hard way after all," Owen grumbles, "You really don't got any fancy wizard tricks to check?"

Ben laments not having the blood test device that jedi used to carry as commonly as most people would keep a datapad on hand. It would have done the trick, and well… he is curious about the boy's midichlorian count. 

"No, I'm sorry. There's a device that could do it, but I don't have one."

Beru waves him off. "A clue from his dad is more than we had to start with, Ben. Don't stress about it."

He nods, and tries not to, going back to his last two mini-bites of topato. 

The conversation wobbles to life here and there, just enough that the rest of the night feels a bit awkward, but not truly stilted or painful. They make it to dessert, where Luke's sweet tooth joy carries the adults the rest of the way until it's time to say goodnight. 

Beru invites him to stay, citing the desert's dangers as the suns disappear, but by that point Ben longs for his quiet little cave. He does not, however, escape without an abundance of leftovers.

It is a long, quiet walk back across the sands to his hideaway. The darkened interior greets Ben with freshly sand-coated floors and the skitter of nighttime creatures. The shape of stone and surface are unlit by the wan moonlight outside, but that’s quite alright. He has long since memorized the form of his space in the dark.

“I’m back!” he tells the dusty air, shuffling carefully in the pitch black to get to the bed. “I had a lovely time at the Lars’. Beru’s topato game is really something.”

The wrapped containers he’d been given are set along the back wall, where a shelf-like protrusion holds a few things. Mostly nice rocks he’s found here and there.

“I’ve more leftovers than I know what to do with…” Ben complains.

He does. They’re fine in the chilly night, but won’t last through the heat of the day tomorrow. “I suppose I shall… simply have to eat as much of them as possible.”

The thought of eating a feast for the second day in a row turns his stomach.

“Or well… perhaps some of the rock lizards would like a bite?”

No one replies, but that’s to be expected.

“Yes, I think I shall share.”

[daddysfangirls-dc]

UnTamed Ch.7

Damian Wayne x OC!Female

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Too Pretty.

That's what Astraea thought. As she looked around, the restaurant was very fancy. It was so fancy, in fact, that Damian got her a fancy dress and shoes to go with it and even did her hair. I got her all dolled up and didn't tell her why. He just dragged her until they arrived at the restaurant, then was taken to a private booth with curtains in the back. Money gets you fancy privacy. It was all so fancy and pretty. Even the food was pretty.

"It's too pretty," she whispered as she eyed the plate of food. She felt Damian's nervousness and confusion. " It's too pretty to eat. Looks like those art pieces in those fancy places I'm not allowed in." It was two lamb chops on top of mashed potatoes; it wasn't much, but it was still pretty. More to look at than eat. 

"Try it. You'll like it," Damian encourages her to eat. 

Not one to turn down a free meal, she forwent the proper eating utensils; she just picked up the bone taking a big bite of the lamb. Damian watches as she devours her plates within minutes, the proper table manners not seen or considered. Once the plate was clean, she whispered," I'm still hungry." He waved the waitress over and ordered some desserts.

"Why are we here?" she finally asked 

"I can't take you to a nice place for a nice meal."

"Damian," she spoke his name softly, "what are we doing?"

-

Honestly, he didn't know. Their relationship had changed, or at least Damian's view of it had. He had grown romantic feelings for her. He didn't know how to go about these feelings, so he sought out help and advice. For Asta to remain a secret, he could not ask his brothers or father for advice. He instead went to two other trustworthy confidants, Jon Kent and Alfred Pennyworth. They provided as much advice as they could with vague and little information.

Jon just told him to ask her to be his girlfriend and give her some flowers. Jon Kent never had a girlfriend.

Alfred advises him to take her out to a nice dinner and talk to her about his feelings and a possible relationship. He advised a slow approach. Damian took his advice and ran with it. 

He got a fancy restaurant, food, and clothes, and the atmosphere was here, but now he couldn't speak, put words together, or find them. He should have gotten advice on how to talk to her. It was a conundrum, but he needed to figure it out and do it. 

-

"These past few years, I've enjoyed your companionship, our friendship. " Asta smiled as this was the first time he'd ever acknowledged their friendship. " My feelings for you have changed and grown and can no longer be ignored. Astreae, I like you, like you as more than a friend, and I'd like to enter into a possible romantic relationship. If you'd like that as well." Definitely wasn't the best wording. Despite how vast his vocabulary was he was never good at conveying his feelings through words. Honestly, he wasn't good at conveying his feelings, period.

"what does that mean?" Asta asked. " I ... I'd like for us to be in a roman-"

"No, I mean, what does that mean? What does being romantic mean? For us?" 

It was a good concern for Asta to have. The only true exposure she had to 'romantic' relationships was to victims of domestic violence and prostitutes. And she wore less than prostitutes. Love was something people in the alley mostly ran from or used as a tool. How would they change? What would romance look like with them? Would they really be romantic?

" ... I like spending time with you and would like to spend more time outside of our nightly occupation. More dates, perhaps." Admittedly, most of their meetings were at sunset or under the moon. " I'd like to touch you like that. I mean, like holding your hand and a perhaps kiss. I don't want to change what we have; I want more of it."

There was a moment of relief that was quickly followed by a new nervousness as he waited for her response. He didn't know what he'd do if she rejected him. He probably just ruined his first friendship.

"Okay"

"...okay?"

"I'd like to be romantic with you. I want to hold your hand, kiss you, and see you in the light." 

Damian didn't fight the smile that spread across his face. He raised his glass " to the light," and she raised her glass as well (she's never done the toast before)" To the light."

As if realizing the serious conversation was over and had ended well, the waitress finally brought over their desserts. Another fancy plated dish is lemon tarts. 

"Another pretty dish. After this-"

"We'll go get pizza."

-

Alfred watched as Damian quickly slid the back seat. He notices how giddy and happy his young master is as he settles in. He was glowing with joy. " I presume it went well." 

"Yes" was a single-word response but held many emotions. " Very well," the joy radiated off the boy was just so pure. He had never seen the boy so happy. "And when can I expect to meet this young lady?" Damian didn't say anything, but his face was answered enough, a look he had seen on Bruce many times before when asked about his lovers. 

Bruce rarely, if ever, talked about his lovers, not including the little flings he brought home occasionally. He used to learn about love interests such as Talia Al Ghul and Minhkhoa  Khan through reports and ones like Selina Kyle by wounds they left on his body. He hopes Damian love interest won't fall into that second category. Another hope is that he wouldn't have to wait several years to meet the young lady officially.

"Alfred" His voice was small 

"Yes?"

"I'd appreciate it if today's activities stayed between us. I don't want the others-"

"Damian, no one will learn of it from me."

"...Thank you."

[star-cluster-nyx]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Tommy & Ranboo - Steak

We may be a day late due to technical difficulties, but we're back and better than ever! Hope you enjoy!

!!WARNINGS!! Disordered Eating, Descriptions of anxious and self-deprecating thoughts!

If that's something that you would like not to see, please don't! Do what you have to for your own mental health!

@sixteenth-day-event prompt :

Tommy & Ranboo - Steak

“What are you doing?” a voice rang out behind him.

“Hm?” Ranboo asked, turning to see Tommy standing under the -admittedly large- door frame. He wasn't doing anything, he was just- standing there, watching him, almost in an intense way.

He quickly averted his sight, uncomfortable under the direct contact and looking back to the sizzling pan in front of him.

“What do you mean?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“The food?” Tommy answers, unusually standoffish. It wasn't typical of him to be so quiet. Just an hour ago he was goofing around with Tubbo and Michael, making all sorts of strange noises to scare the small piglin off.

The picture of Tommy chasing Michael around laughing, and the Tommy who's currently lurking under the door frame, tensely watching him, are almost not comparable in Ranboo’s mind.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, "Yes! The food, um… well, you didn't eat anything all day, and- you've been playing with Micheal since breakfast, and-” he stuttered out an explanation, slowly gaining a bit more confidence about his decisions.

When he turned to look at the other, he didn't find the positive response he was hoping for. Instead, Tommy seemed uneasy and distrustful, quickly snuffing out whatever spark of confidence Ranboo had managed to find within himself.

“-Thought you might've been hungry,” he murmured.

The silence that followed is almost suffocating.

Did I go too far? Was it too much?

He knew that Tommy didn't like him. With every interaction these two had, they have only gotten increasingly more awkward. Forced proximity due to Tubbo should have brought them together, theoretically. If not- at least made them comfortable with each other's presence.

But no, their conversations had been drier than a desert.

Am I trying too hard?

Tommy hated him, and he didn't know why.

Shouldn't have I done this?

He thought that this would've been a great opportunity to talk to each other, one-on-one. Besides the fact that Tommy hasn't eaten anything all day. And he tried, he is still trying to get close to him, a small hope in his chest that they might get along, just like how Tubbo gets along with both of them.

That's because Tubbo is good, and fun to be around. I'm not.

(He wanted to try for his husband, who -after seeing the stale environment between these two- confessed to him how much he would like for them to bond. The two most important people in his life.)

How is -sweet and kind- Tommy in the same boat as awkward, pathetic me is something I can't understand.

(Tubbo may have also told him what Tommy's favorite meal was, knowing of Ranboo's efficiency in the kitchen.

‘You’re a great cook!’ Tubbo had said, more than once, but firstly back when they met and he’d invited the goat hybrid to his house.)

Am I doing something wrong again?

In his overly anxious state, he didn't realize the constantly growing buzz around his head, nor the smoke floating above the stove.

“What are you making?” a voice asked, breaking through Ran’s hazy state, and making him aware of the growing number of particles surrounding his vision. Shaking his head to rid of any lingering dots of buzz, he quickly made sure to check the state of the meal.

Not burned, thank goodness.

“Steak,” he said, and he wasn't lying. It was a simple steak with mashed potatoes on the side. Tommy's favorite meal.

Only now did he notice that Tommy was the one who asked, significantly closer than where he stood previously.

He finished cooking the meal in silence, turning to place the plate on the kitchen island and leave, not able to converse in such an anxious state, regardless of the fact that he didn't think the other would open up anyway.

Before he could, though, Tommy's voice rang out once more.

“You know you didn't have to do that, right?” he asked, demeanor softer than his previous one and a puzzled look on his face.

As if he couldn't process that someone wanted to do something nice for him.

“I wanted to,” he replied, and left the room.

Ranboo was too far away to hear the soft “thank you” spoken, lost in the air.

Ranboo wasn't there to see Tommy's uncertainty painted all in his face, his posture. He didn't see the way he stood over the dinner plate, tense.

He didn't get to see Tommy finally make up his mind, and eat his first meal of the day late in the afternoon. He never saw the surprise in his eyes when he realized that it didn't taste like ash, like he was dreading.

He didn't see his eyes mist with the weight of memories in his back. Of a family around a dinner table eating this exact meal, long before everything went to shit.

He didn't hear his trembling sobs when he was finally able to stomach a full meal after days of eating only golden apples.

He didn't witness the moment Tommy decided that Ranboo was a safe person. Someone he could trust.

No, he didn't.

He only ever saw an empty plate in the sink when he came back. No Tommy in sight.

_____

It becomes almost like a routine between the two of them.

When Tommy visits them, he plays with Micheal until the piglin tires himself out and goes to take a nap. Him and Tubbo spend the rest of the afternoon together, until it's dinner time and both, by then, are very tired. Ranboo makes dinner for all of them and almost always Tommy is the one who helps him with it.

Tommy has started making jokes with him. It's nice.

It's not perfect, but they've come to a sort of peace between them.

It's not perfect, but it's good.

Friends, at last.