#this web weave! means so much 2 me!

[sharpaymichelle]

SHARPAY EVANS and DERBY EVANS ... the study of a mothers and daughters bond based on don't tell my mom .

[shorthaltsjester]

Imogen Temult, Exaltant Hope of the Red Storm

Heroes and Monsters by Penny & Sparrow // Critical Role Campaign 3

[thru-ur-alarms]

from polendina to antonia; why did you have to leave so soon? a web weave.

A Grief Observed - C.S. Lewis / Unknown / In Memoriam A.A.H - Lord Tennyson Alfred / Some Kind of Heaven - Sleeping At Last / Sketch by Yenthe Joline / The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller / We Are Carried - Sara Rian / Paper Boats - Darren Kobb and Ashley Barrett

[brinaspellsmoved]

SABRINA SPELLMAN ... [god]hood : the study of the [massacre] and her own [destruction].

[deadsetobsessions]

Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

F

E

L

L.

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

[crystallinecardinal]

“The strings are wrapped around you,” or, a discussion about Truthless Recluse, Pure Vanilla, and an idea of an awakening

One of the things I’ve been hung up on ever since finishing A Game of Truth and Deceit’s story is the fact that the things Truthless Recluse says does not feel exactly in character for Pure Vanilla. I’m sure this is the point. You’re supposed to get that feeling out of hearing him, Gingerbrave even directly points it out.

So, other than the corruption, why the so sudden change? Why is he suddenly turning against everyone? And most importantly, how is he supposed to get out of it?

Or, a CRK analysis/theory of sorts regarding Beast-Yeast episode 7, as well as how episode 8 might go, split into sections below the cut.

1 - An Introduction

I will start off by saying that before this update came out, I was one of the people adamant that Pure Vanilla was not going to end up corrupted. Not because I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him, but because I couldn’t see a reason why.

For as much as Shadow Milk could break him, dig into his biggest fears and insecurities and make them appear real, there wasn’t a reason to me for him to suddenly turn against everyone on his own— not when those around him had consistently helped him, bringing him out of what might have been the worst dips of his bad mental state. Not unless Shadow Milk was able to really manipulate him into it.

Then again, I knew what Shadow Milk could do. I knew he could control the will of other cookies (seen with the faerie cookies), and disguise himself in another form (see: every time he impersonates the Light of Truth). I also knew Pure Vanilla would be vulnerable to him, both with the bad mental state, and by the fact that the first time they encountered each other, he was already struggling. The right strings being pulled could just make him snap.

And then, I saw Truthless Recluse. And I lost my mind.

So, the point of all this. I had been TERRIFIED before this update how Pure Vanilla would fall. I thought he’d have his sense of self broken, all his emotions toyed with, sure, but I wasn’t ready for a FULL CORRUPTION. Then I got to thinking: it’s been a pattern this happens, right? In the Ancient vs Beast chapters, they encounter each other, fight in some way, and the Ancient somehow loses their connection to their respective Light. They only awaken after, picking themself back up from the brink of defeat. And we already know Awakened Pure Vanilla exists, so that leaves the question: how do you help him? How does he come back from where he is now? How does he awaken if he’s already been “defeated?”

That’s what I’m here to discuss.

2 - The Spider-Man meme problem

So! Fortune Teller. That guy.

Almost everyone I saw took one look at him in the trailers and KNEW he was Pure Vanilla. Had to be. The voice was the same, appearance the same, motifs the same, the character design was a pretty big giveaway. If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, yknow. It’s probably a duck.

And that presumption was right! Fortune Teller is Truthless Recluse, and by extension, Pure Vanilla.

How can that happen, though? If Pure Vanilla talks directly to Fortune Teller, how can they be the same? Luckily, the game decides to answer this question on its own!

So, if this is a space the future of the past (the present) and the future of the present (just the future) can both exist… that means Fortune Teller, and by extension, Truthless Recluse, are likely from the future. Not only because we’ve seen PV walking around in the present, but because we KNOW how TR talks about PV like he’s dead, as well as because of a fun little quote from Shadow Milk!

“In the end, you will become me.”

This is what I’m going to be building the rest of this off of. Stick with me here.

3 - What’s that, puppet boy??

Lies. Manipulation. Deceit.

These are the things Shadow Milk lives for. But any good snake, any good spider weaving a web, knows that the best lies have a hint of truth to them. This is what I intend to dissect.

It feels... a bit strange to think that Pure Vanilla could become someone like Shadow Milk. And yet, the signs are already there. He isn't honest with himself, tells white lies in the hopes that it may make someone feel better rather than the cruel truth, and his mental state is already in a horrid place. Of course, none of these are particularly bad things, they're human, and I can't blame him for any of it. But they're also all undeniably things that could lead him to snapping. What's the point doubt is all that's left? What's the point that he delves into the comfort of the lie of fantasy? What's the point that reality is too much agony to bear? Is that not how the Fount of Knowledge became the Master of Deceit, finding that cookies enjoyed the sweet lie more than the cruel truth?

“In the end, you will become me.”

And so, he just might.

So, consider. If present and future can both at once in Shadow Milk's domain, if Fortune Teller is not merely an illusion, then who's to say Truthless Recluse isn't who Pure Vanilla is destined to become?

The best lies have a shred of truth. This is our (hypothetical) truth. If nothing changes, if Pure Vanilla falls to Shadow Milk's games, lets himself be broken, plays the role he's had laid out for him ever since he was young (once again, if we choose to take that as truth and not an illusion), then his fate is sealed.

"Despair follows in your footsteps... A river lies on your path. Cross it, and you will face unfathomable dread. Turn back... Turn back before it is too late. Turn back before the cold flames of doubt swallow you whole."

That river is fast approaching, if it hasn’t already.

4 - Finding truth, breaking strings

Let's circle back to one of my first points.

"Then I got to thinking: it’s been a pattern this happens, right? In the Ancient vs Beast chapters, they encounter each other, fight in some way, and the Ancient somehow loses their connection to their respective Light. They only awaken after, picking themself back up from the brink of defeat. And we already know Awakened Pure Vanilla exists, so that leaves the question: how do you help him? How does he come back from where he is now? How does he awaken if he’s already been ‘defeated?’"

Is episode seven not still following the same formula, yet iterating on it in its own unique way? Pure Vanilla comes directly into contact with Shadow Milk, and tries to defend himself the most he can. However, he's a lot more vulnerable than the others this time around— after all, lies and truth cannot exist without the other. They're not entirely opposites. After having his sense of self shattered, Pure Vanilla falls from the Spire. Somewhere, he loses his connection to his Light of Truth. Enter: Truthless Recluse.

We know Pure Vanilla will eventually be awakened (see: dev commentary), so how does he leave the state he's in? How do you come back from falling so far?

This is where our "Truthless Recluse is a future version of Pure Vanilla" idea comes in handy! To put it simply: he hasn't become him yet. Not in reality. The present Pure Vanilla has fallen somewhere deep, deep down, into the darkest abyss... And has yet to come back. It sets a perfect scene to trick those closest to Pure Vanilla to believe the lie wrapped in truth of his ‘death,’ doesn't it?

It also solves our characterization problem from the very beginning of this post. I never said he immediately becomes Truthless Recluse. Given that in this interpretation, TR is what PV will eventually become, it provides a reason for Truthless Recluse to say the things he does, and act the way he does. Maybe Pure Vanilla wouldn’t have said or done those things, but to Truthless Recluse, that part of himself has long been dead.

So. Where does Pure Vanilla find his truth?

It could be a lot of things. However, one of the main things I've seen reiterated is just how much Shadow Milk toys with the mind. Right now, Pure Vanilla likely believes his entire life is a lie. Not once has he had free will. Since birth, he has been a marionette on strings, a plaything for a being beyond everything he ever knew. Every action, every decision, it was just part of an Oscar-worthy performance. Everything he may have once defined as himself is null.

And even worse: there's no one to drag him out of it this time. White Lily is gone, off on her own mission. Gingerbrave and his friends have Truthless Recluse to deal with. The Light of Truth is silent. Everyone, everything he may have depended on isn't there. It's just him, the Other-Realm, and eyes that have been watching for his entire lifetime.

To get out, he has to break the strings. Just as he once awoke from his prison when he needed to confront his past, he can do it again. But this time, it isn't going to be while he hides under another identity, it isn’t going to be while telling himself a lie. Outsmart the snake, remember, remember, remember. Hold onto the love, the care, the things that are true. No amount of deceit can change how he once felt. They say the heart is true. Maybe that's the key out.

To put it more simply: no matter what it ends up being that causes it, he needs to realize himself that he is in charge of his own destiny. The truth of the question "who am I" is "whoever you want to be." It isn't an question that can be answered by someone else. You only become fully truthless, only fully wall yourself away from everyone if you choose to do so. It isn't fate.

And so, in the end, I think Pure Vanilla will awaken. By proxy, if my entire idea here were to be true, Truthless Recluse would cease to exist. Paradoxes are funny that way. There's no way for that ending to exist if it's no longer the future that lies ahead.

5 - A conclusion

I have absolutely no clue what's coming in episode eight. I'll say that upfront. I have no clue, and it terrifies me. I love Pure Vanilla, I want him to make it out of this, but I know he won't make it out unscathed. The tragedy could stay, it could just be for this episode, it's unclear. We just have to wait until episode eight goes live.

Regardless, I want him to struggle. I don't think it makes sense for him to get out of this easily. Not when he considers himself pathetic, not when he can't trust the voice of the Light of Truth, not when he's been questioning himself. Let that doubt sink into him. Let him rebuild himself, piece by shattered piece. It makes for an emotional story, and makes me like Pure Vanilla even more as a character. Maybe that's just the Omori fan in me, but I love delves into characters' minds like that.

It may not be anything like what I've discussed here, but I'm very excited to see what Devsisters does. This is all I'm going to be thinking about until then.

[reareaotaku]

I Don't Love You

Summary: Wednesday has a hard time coming to terms with her feelings for you Pairings: Wednesday Addams x Fem! Reader Tw: Mean Wednesday Taglist: None

She didn't like you. Maybe it was the way you walked, talked, or even ate. She didn't really know; All she knew was that she didn't like you and that was a fact. She seemed to hate everyone, but you it was different.

She got this weird feeling in her stomach any time she saw you. Like a black widow weaving it's web in her stomach, before devouring her insides. You'd think she'd enjoy such a feeling, but it was nothing of the contrary.

Wednesday's mother, Morticia, knew something was up when she noticed her daughter acting strange- stranger than usual- in her dorm room.

"Is everything alright, my darling?"

Wednesday looked at her mother, not showing any emotion, "What? What makes you think everything is not alright?"

"You're... Something's off."

Wednesday hums, but doesn't respond. She knows that her mother can sense it- Why, if she's asking she already knows what's bothering Wednesday. She might as well confess to her mother.

"There's this girl-"

"Oh?"

"Not like that. I hate her."

"Hate is such a strong emotion, darling." Morticia walks towards Wednesday, before pulling some of her strand hairs back into place. "An uncontrollable emotion. An emotion of passion and adrenaline." Her mother chuckles, before sighing.

Wednesday clicks her tongue, before rolling her eyes. "No. This girl, Y/n, she's- Ugh- She gets on my nerves. It's like she's cursed me."

"Oh?" Morticia knew. It was so obvious. She couldn't believe her daughter had a crush and didn't even know it. The thought made her smile to herself. "Are you sure? Maybe..."

"Yes, I'm sure. She's constantly on my mind. It's becoming a problem for my work."

"And you're sure it's a curse..... And not a crush?"

Wednesday's eyes widen at her mother's words. A crush? Her? On Y/n? No, no, no, no! Never in a million years! Wednesday shook her head, repeating the word 'No.' Though, Morticia knew better. She knew the feelings of love all too well. It was... well, cute.

---

Wednesday had spent the night thinking about her mother's words. She couldn't be right... Could she? She would know if she had a crush. Expect, the more Wednesday thought about it, the more she realized that there were things about you that made her unconsciously smile. God, she hated it. She hated how much control you had over her emotions and you didn't even know it.

She groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. What was she supposed to do? She couldn't tell you she liked you. You'd probably think she was joking and then she'd never have a chance with you. But, how could she go on knowing these feelings are welding inside of her. She had to let it out, she just didn't know how.

She looked over to the other side of the room where her roommate, Enid slept. Wednesday's eyes widen when an idea popped in her head. Maybe she could tell you her feelings, but to do that she'd need Enid's help.

[Part 2 where Wednesday confesses her feelings?]

[febuwhump]

febuwhump 2024 survey results

has it been six months since febuwhump? yes. yes it has. nevertheless, here's the cold hard data (analysis) of the survey from febuwhump 2024: feb five.

firstly, this year was our most popular yet! with 1417 works in the official collection across 329 fandoms, we made (and shared) 103 fics more than 2023, and 770 more than my first year running febuwhump in 2021! this isnt even including all the art and fics posted to tumblr, or wasn't shared during the event, which would put our total so much higher!

the prompt list had 4000+ notes and i received 115 responses to the survey.

there were 62 people in the hall of fame, up from 51 in 2023.

the blog hit 2,683 followers, up from 1,946 at the end of the 2023 event.

across two independant check, based on the average word count of 2,000 words per fic in the 2024 collection, and aware of the multi-chapter fics (some of which were finished after the event), it is estimated that 2.8 million words were written for febuwhump 2024. which is just. fucking insane.

now, onto the survey results!

firstly: in what way did you participate in Febuwhump this year?

with extra write-ins not pictured, fanfiction was the overwhelming winner with 92 responses (82.6%), followed by original fiction (22.6%) and artwork (11.3%). interesting to me personally is the 4 responses who wrote poetry and the not-pictured 1 response who created web-weaving! which is very cool and i would like to see it.

fandoms

according to the survey:

the most popular fandoms written for were the star wars universe and legend of zelda universe (8/115 responses)

21 responses included original fiction

the majority of responses also referenced more than one fandom, meaning less people stuck to a single fandom or topic the entire time.

according to the collection:

21 anime/manga fandoms were represented

51 books/literature fandoms were represented, 12 being specific star wars subseries

24 RPF fandoms were represented, including bands and minecraft servers

the most popular fandoms written about in the collection were:

star wars (all media types) - 253 works

star wars: the bad batch - 80 works

torchwood - 66 works

original work - 56 works

my hero academia - 54 works

why and how

next, there were a lot of really lovely responses about why participants took part in febuwhump, a few favourite and repeated responses being that it seemed fun, they'd done it before and so wanted to do it again, and they liked to write about their favourite characters suffering. also, multiple people have been doing it for three of the four years i've been running it (of five total), and several were encouraged by friends!

the majority of participants discovered febuwhump through tumblr, the admin's tumblr, ao3 fics and discord servers. a handful said there's apparently a google doc floating around that houses a whump event calendar. i would be interested in seeing that if anyone's got it.

did you participate in Febuwhump 2020, 21, 22 or 23?

the majorty of respondants were new comers to febuwhump at 66.1% "no" to 33.9% "yes". the majority of comparisons to previous years referenced a noticably bigger community, more interaction on the blog, and the admin being more "confident" (oh, you guys), however several noted that the prompts felt more repetitive or samey this year than they did previously.

are you a Febuwhump completionist or participant?

a fairly even split, 51.3% of participants didn't finish compared to the 48.7% who did. however, only 88.1% of those completionists submitted to the hall of fame.

for those who didn't complete, the most common amount of prompts completed was 2 (13.6%), 3 (11.9%) and 12 or 6 (6.8%).

the most common place to share prompt fills was tumblr (74.8%), ao3 (72.2%), or choosing not to share at all (7%). several write-in responses said that they were planning to share in the future but hadn't yet. and while 76.4% of people submitted to the ao3 collection, those who didn't claimed it to be because the fics weren't ready to be shared on time, they weren't following the rules so didn't add to the collection, an inability to find the collection on ao3 (i swear i'm working on it) or shyness/fear.

what went well/even better if:

the only actual criticsm of the event received was that the blog was posting in a "spam"-like way, to the point that the participant almost unfollowed (and another suggested a reblog tag so it could be ignored easier if people didn't want to see the works throughout the month).

several comments asked for a later deadline for submission to the collection/hall of fame, which is going under advisement, but the current position is that by doing so, it makes the event a different event. there are no stakes to actually create once a day if, at the end of it, you actually get 2 weeks of extra time.

another couple mentioned there being too many dialogue prompts and vague prompts. this will be considered during the next voting period and prompt collation - potentially, if i allowed less dialogue prompts into the final 100 vote, less would make it through to the official 28, however the voting itself is out of my hands (unless voter fraud occurs once again).

the main suggestion for improvement (8 times out of 44 suggestions) was for an additional mod to help with reblogging more. (which imo flies in the face of the "spamming" from earlier, but there is surely a middle ground). this is likely to not happen, because i like running the event alone, despite the major burnout i receive every single year without fail. but thanks for your concern lol.

on discord:

31.3% of participants were in the discord server (which, this year, ignored the first year's 100 user cap and had 172 total users).

43.6% of people who didn't join the server did so because they hadn't heard of it, while the majority didn't join because they were either shy (the minorty) or don't use/like discord (the vast majority). i don't know if tumblr still does groupchats and if that would be a viable alternative, or if there is another forum/chat location that would work better (or to have in tandem), but i am open to suggestions.

of the people who were in the channel, most (33.3%) used it "rarely", followed by "most days" (25%) and "for half the month" (22.2%)

febuwhump 2025

the majority of responses wanted next year's colour scheme to either be red or green, but shout out to everyone who wanted orange, the person who said "children's hospital" and the other person who gave me this specific hex code: #4BEC13

which is vile, but also another vote for green.

finally, here are my favourite suggestions for febuwhump 2025's colloquial name. previously, we have endured febuwhump 2: electric boogaloo, febuwhump 3: tokyo drift, fourbuwhump and feb five.

febuwhump 6 suggestions:

fe6uwhump (which, i'll be honest, is a real contender)

"I don't know"

febuwhump 666

febuwhump: revenge of the sixth

"I don't know, sorry"

"febuwhump sex and make all the prompts kinky"

"??? i have been thinking about this for 10 mins"

febuwhump 6(9)

feBEEwhump

"i am bad at this"

"could not care less"

febuwhump feb five 2: electric boogaloo

apparently, i accidently made this a mandatory question and that made some of you mad :(

and that's the wrap up survey, six months late! any questions/queries/want to see some of that cold hard data? send me an ask. i'll actually respond to it i swear! (probably!)

[ahaura]

Bones and All (2022) dir. Luca Guadagnino

Hélène Cixous, The Love of the Wolf

Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

Maud Ellmann, The Hunger Artists

Catherynne M. Valente, The Bread We Eat in Dreams, “The Red Girl”

Marty McConnell, The Best American Poetry (2014) ed. David Lehman & Terrance Hayes, “vivisection (you’re going to break my heart)”

Start Web Weaving Text & Image IDs:

[Image ID (1 out of 6): Maren is eating Lee; the shot is focused on Maren. The shot is in black and white. End ID]

Hélène Cixous, The Love of the Wolf

[Text ID: I beg you, eat me up. Want me down to the marrow. End ID]

[Image ID (2 out of 6): Maren is clutching her father's father's coat to her chest on her bed as she cries, shortly after he abandons her. End ID]

Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

[Text ID: I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it—to be fed so much love I couldn’t take any more. Just once. End ID]

[Image ID (3 out of 6): Maren and Lee sit across from each other in a diner; Maren is not looking at Lee and Lee is looking at her as he drinks coffee. End ID]

Maud Ellmann, The Hunger Artists

[Text ID: Since sexuality originates in seating, it is always haunted by the imagery of ingestion, having neither an object nor a territory proper to itself. Yet eating, in its turn, exceeds the biological demand for nourishment, for it expresses the desire to possess the object unconditionally. The infant sees his stomach as a safe in which he hoards his loot, thus learning his first lessons in private property. The genesis of secrecy may also be attributed to eating, for it is well known that the best way to keep a secret is to eat the evidence. {Highlighted} The stomach is a place almost as private as the grave. {End Highlight} End ID]

[Image ID (4 out of 6): In the dark of night outside of their blue pickup truck, Lee holds Maren's face in his hand. His face is bloody; he is shirtless. Maren's face is not visible to the camera. End ID]

Catherynne M. Valente, The Bread We Eat in Dreams, “The Red Girl”

[Text ID: I love you but there are things older and murkier than love. Things that live not in the heart but the entrails. I don’t want you to see me with the wolf. I don’t want you to see what he does to me. I don’t want you to see what I do to him. End ID]

[Image ID (5 out of 6): In daylight, Maren holds Lee; the viewer cannot see Lee's face. End ID]

Marty McConnell, The Best American Poetry (2014) ed. David Lehman & Terrance Hayes, “vivisection (you’re going to break my heart)”

[Text ID:When I say eat me I mean suck the bones clean, leave nothing

for the waiting, nothing for the vultures or the travelers to come. End ID]

[Image ID (6 out of 6): Maren is eating Lee; Maren's face is out of the shot but the viewer can see her hand on Lee's face as he screams. He is holding her hand to her face. The shot is in black and white. End ID]

End Web Weaving post Text & Image IDS.

[rocks-in-space]

TRUE FRIENDS

1. A Little Life, Hanya Yanagihara // 2. "Ribs," Lorde // 3. "Catalog of Unabshed Gratitude," Ross Gay // 4. Unknown // 5. "Contradictions: Tracking Poems No. 28," Adrienne Rich // 6. @kit-tempo // 7. "Ribs," Lorde // 8. You Don't Have to Like Me: Essays on Growing Up, Speaking Out, and Finding Feminism, Alida Nugent // 9. "It Will Come Back," Hozier // 10. Unknown // 11. The Snow Queen, Hans Christen Andersen // 12. A History of My Brief Body, Billy-Ray Belcourt // 13. Us Against You, Fredrik Backman // 14. "The Essence of Peopling," Sarah Perry.

The Wizard, the Witch, and the Wild One web weaves:

Eursulon Suvi Ame

[Image IDs:

Image 1: Text reading, “Wasn’t friendship its own miracle, the finding of another person who made the entire lonely world seem somehow less lonely? Wasn’t this house, this beauty, this comfort, this life a miracle?”

Image 2: Text in all caps reading, "You're the only friend I need / sharing beds like little kids / and laughing 'til our ribs get tough / but that will never be enough."

Image 3: Text reading, "I just want us to be friends now, forever. / Take this bowl of blackberries from the garden. / The sun has made them warm. / I picked them just for you."

Image 4: Text in all caps reading, "Let's go to the garden. / Let's be kids again. / I'll chase you if you / chase me."

Image 5: Text reading, "We'll dream of a longer summer / but this is the one we have: / I lay my sunburnt hand / on your table: this is the time we have."

Image 6: Text reading, "The trauma unmakes me at the end of the summertime,"

Image 7: Text reading, "This dream isn't feeling sweet / We're reeling through the midnight streets / And I've never felt more alone / It feels so scary getting old."

Image 8: Text reading, "You still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn’t satisfy you as much as it used to. You still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago."

Image 9: Text reading, "I've known the warmth of your doorways / through the cold, I'll find my way back to you."

Image 10: Text reading, "What now? What comes / after the tragedy? / What choice is there but to keep going, despite? / You remember the good times, I know you do. / That beautiful summer we met in. I've lost my / tenderness since then, don't you agree?"

Image 11: Text reading, "And they both sat there, grown up, yet children at heart; and it was summer, - warm, beautiful summer."

Image 12: Text reading, "To love someone is to firstly confess: I'm prepared to be devastated by you."

Image 13: Text reading, "The best friends of our childhoods are the loves of our lives, and they break our hearts in worse ways."

Image 14: Text reading, "In conclusion, drink tea, together with your friends; pay attention to the tea, and to your friends, and pay attention to your friends paying attention to the tea. Therein lies the meaning of life."

end ID.]

[ohdorothea]

This tournament is being run by and for queer fans so please keep that in mind! Homophobes will be blocked on sight <3 More polls here and more info here! Lyrics for the songs and FAQ under the cut!

Labyrinth lyrics

It only hurts this much right now

Was what I was thinking the whole time

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out

I'll be getting over you my whole life

You know how scared I am of elevators

Never trust it if it rises fast

It can't last

Uh oh, I'm falling in love

Oh no, I'm falling in love again

Oh, I'm falling in love

I thought the plane was going down

How'd you turn it right around?

It only feels this raw right now

Lost in the labyrinth of my mind

Break up, break free, break through, break down

You would break your back to make me break a smile

You know how much I hate

That everybody just expects me to bounce back

Just like that

Uh oh, I'm falling in love

Oh no, I'm falling in love again

Oh, I'm falling in love

I thought the plane was going down

How'd you turn it right around?

Uh oh, I'm falling in love

Oh no, I'm falling in love again

Oh, I'm falling in love

I thought the plane was going down

How'd you turn it right around?

Uh oh, I'm falling in love (falling in love)

Oh no, I'm falling in love again (falling in love again)

Oh, I'm falling in love (falling in love)

I thought the plane was going down

How'd you turn it right around?

Uh oh, I'm falling in love (falling in love)

Oh no, I'm falling in love again (falling in love again)

Oh, I'm falling in love (falling in love)

I thought the plane was going down

How'd you turn it right around?

(You know how much I hate it)

(You know how much I hate it)

(You know how much I hate it)

🫶🫶🫶

Karma lyrics

You're talking shit for the hell of it

Addicted to betrayal, but you're relevant

You're terrified to look down

'Cause if you dare, you'll see the glare

Of everyone you burned just to get there

It's coming back around

And I keep my side of the street clean

You wouldn't know what I mean

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

Spiderboy, king of thieves

Weave your little webs of opacity

My pennies made your crown

Trick me once, trick me twice

Don't you know that cash ain't the only price?

It's coming back around

And I keep my side of the street clean

You wouldn't know what I mean

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

Ask me what I learned from all those years

Ask me what I earned from all those tears

Ask me why so many fade, but I'm still here

(I'm still here, I'm still here)

'Cause karma is the thunder

Rattling your ground

Karma's on your scent like a bounty hunter

Karma's gonna track you down

Step by step, from town to town

Sweet like justice, karma is a queen

Karma takes all my friends to the summit

Karma is the guy on the screen

Coming straight home to me

'Cause karma is my boyfriend (Karma is my boyfriend)

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend (Weekend)

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

Karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god (Ah)

Uh-huh, mm

Karma's a relaxing thought

🫶🫶🫶

The question is which song is queerer to you! Queerer can mean whatever you want it to mean; you might consider a song queer because you think it was written that way, or because of Swiftian lore. It might be queer to you because of how you relate it to your own life. Maybe you think from a purely literary standpoint the lyrics have queer themes; maybe you're just thinking about vibes!!!

Put in the tags your interpretations or propaganda for a specific song! Tags will be used to decide what songs may be saved if there are extra slots in the next round!

[sunsetsover]

ok so gut reaction thoughts after first watch of ep 2 before i forget them

i knew the moment babe mentioned obstacles that kant had paid that guy from the preview to flirt w bison. like he really is kinda sleazy bc i don't get the impression that he's interested in bison at all but he DOES wanna fuck fr. but im kinda obsessed bc obv he's trapped in this situation and is trying to do what he has to to protect himself and his brother but there's something desperate about him and i don't know where it comes from. like i feel like there's still a piece of the puzzle im missing that will make me go 'ah i get it now' when i see it and i need it asap otherwise it might drive me crazy

speaking of getting it now i had a lot of thoughts about romantically naive bison last week that i didn't really talk about bc of the whole power thing that was a lot more interesting for me to sink my teeth into but like. i feel like i Get it now. i see where this is going, i understand how this can spiral out of bison's control

bc i still do think he has power in the sense that i still do think he suspects kant and thinks he can handle the situation alone but i also think that bison has been so sheltered that kant's attention and interest is getting to him a lot more easily than i think he thought it would. like there were moments in this ep that felt a lot more real from bison, like they were actually him and not this persona he's putting on with kant. i think he's kind of becoming a lil enamoured w kant and his audacity and his persistence and flirtation and that that's gonna snowball until suddenly he's caught in the web he's helped to weave and he really does like kant and it really does hurt and then bison's gonna flip out

(and i think with kant it's gonna be a much slower burn in terms of actual feelings, which is gonna make the heartbreak sooo much worse. i can't wait tbf)

and fadel is the exact same as bison in that aspect btw. like for all his 'trust no one, everyone is out to get you' bs all it took was a couple of weeks (if that) of consistent pressure and attention and someone not being scared off for him to find himself in way out of his depth. the only real difference between him and bison is that he has the self awareness to know that it's stupid and dangerous. he knows when people and feelings get involved there's only so much damage control you can do. bison's still naive enough that he thinks he can play with that kind of fire and not get burned by it, whereas fadel seems to know better.

(i have many many thoughts abt fadelstyle but i feel like i still need to process to articulate them properly)

kant catching onto bison calling his mum 'mother' and bison's face and obvious lie abt it when kant pointed out how weird that is goes into another thought i had last week which is that 'mother' really is less of an actual mother and more of a boss which makes me think bison lied and that he and fadel probably really were adopted, (maybe rescued from some of the 'bad people' she obviously has an issue with?) maybe even w the intention of raising them into being her weapons instead of her children. i bet she uses affection and/or guilt as a tool to get them to comply (which i'd bet works more effectively on fadel than bison) and do what they're told. if they literally owe her their lives or she 'saved them' from a bad situation, ofc she's gonna use that to get them to do her bidding. it also might explain why both boys r so susceptible to the attention and affection they're both getting even tho they should both know better - if they've been starved of it as children, they're going to be more desperate for it (and vulnerable to it) as adults.

also surprisingly i don't think the bdsm thing between kant and bison is actually going to be necessarily sexual in nature, not exclusively. at least not at first. like the fact that in the preview bison was like 'will you let me continue what i started at the tattoo parlour?' (meaning the nipple clamps) implies there was no finishing it if you catch my drift. like it seems as though it's gonna be less of a 'let me tie you down and hurt you a lil while we fuck' and more a full blown Dynamic ygm. like bison's really gonna be out here nipple clamping that man just bc he can. bc kant's gonna let him. which is not what i expected? not in a bad way but i guess im pleasantly surprised that it seems like it's gonna have that much depth to it.

(and if i'm right doesn't that just emphasise how it's less of a sex thing and more of a power thing for bison? he's not doing it exclusively to get off, it's obviously more than that for him.)

but also the look on kant's face makes me think that the ppl who said that bdsm isn't necessarily kant's thing but that he goes along with it bc it's what bison wants were right. which is so interesting to me, i cannot wait to see how that shakes out.

im kinda losing steam but fadelstyle truly made my brain itch this episode . i feel like i understand style way better bc i too want to chase fadel down and pin him in a corner and break him just to see what'll come out of him. i bet its real soft and real weird and might make me cry a little bit. i bet fadel would also cry. i bet he might need to real bad.

[franzkafkagf]

I noticed that Aegon's fans are divided into two teams - the first one sees him as a completely heartless, almost psychopath, the other one like in this analysis.

https://www.tumblr.com/very-straight-blog/750648583572881408/it-really-tires-me-how-some-fans-try-to-make-aegon?source=share

What do you think about it and how do you see him?

Basically I've written a few things on him already; here, here and here as well as the many web weavings i have on him hihi <3

I see him as a super nuanced character; he is deeply (and I mean deeply) broken. That's why I love him, there's so much there in terms of characterization, even with the little screentime he had.

He is so desperate to be loved but destined to be hated by everyone around him (thank you tgc for this quote, lives rent-free in my mind forever)

Rhaenyra sees him as a threat (she has this fear that her father will replace her with him, someday)

Alicent deeply loves him but is too hard on him (she genuinely thinks all her sons will die if she doesn't make him king; he needs to be strong. strong for them, strong for her.

Aemond is resentful towards him. Resentful of his weakness. He has everything Aemond ever wanted. Why isn't he happy? He would be happy and grateful (he wouldn't).

Viserys wanted Baelon. He is not Baelon.

Forced to marry his sister, he never wanted this for them (in canon,,,, I'll live in my little helaegon delulu land)

He is the kicked dog of the family. He is the only one we see being physically reprimanded. It happens time and time again, this was a deliberate choice by the writers. All of Alicent's fears and grudges and love (ugly, desperate love, but still love) towards Rhaenyra are loaded onto him -> I wished we saw them interact, they are so alike :(

What does a kicked dog do? He runs back, tail between his legs. He tries so hard but somehow it doesn't work. He feels like a failure, he runs off, avoids the pain. He doesn't want to face his reality. He drinks, he indulges in anything that will make him forget

I did not ask for this. I've done everything you've asked me to, and I try so... I try so hard, but it will never be enough for you or father.

He acts out, engages in super self-destructive behaviour -> remember when the brothel madam said that Aegon doesn't go to nice places? It's like he is punishing himself.

I'll also have to speak about his assault; kind of a baffling writing choice to introduce him as a r*pist but it is in line with his characterization. He is a prince, of course he can take anything he wants, right? It was just harmless fun, right?

This behaviour doesn't stem from cruelty (like it did with Ramsay or Joffrey) it comes from the entitlement he feels. He might be the scapegoat of the family, but he is still a spoiled prince -> I actually love this about his character too. Purely good/purely victimized characters are BORING! He is interesting, there's both evil and good in him, he is so extremely complex I want to SCREAM.

I can see him going on an arc, not repent, but change. Grow into the man who can sway the people of Dragonstone to his side, grow into the role of king. Become the type of man who would rather live in pain than dull his senses with milk of the poppy. HIS ARC WILL BE INSANE!!!!!

I know a lot of fans want him to be less whiny, less pathetic, less grey… but honestly? He is perfect the way he is in the show. I genuinely love how he is written (I would've wished to see some interaction with his kiddos and Rhaenyra, that is all lmao) and I know he will be amazing in season 2.

[foxmulderautism]

boys when they finish their degree at 2:48am on a friday 

doing something silly tonight

[littlemisspascal]

24 for 2024

As 2024 comes to an end and I see all these posts from mutuals summing up their triumphs and challenges of their year, it started making me think about what these last twelve months have been like for me. And like all of y'all, 2024 definitely had impacts of positives and negatives! So here are 24 things that came to mind:

I decided to go back to school for a new career opportunity. Starting January 6th, I'll be taking my first classes for court reporting/voice writing 😊 I'm both nervous and looking forward to this new adventure!

I saw several fun and great movies this year--Deadpool and Wolverine, Wicked, Gladiator 2, and Sonic the Hedgehog 3 to name a few.

I also watched a ton of great documentaries that I've meaning to check out over the past few years--Icarus, Free Solo, My Octopus Teacher, too many to count--and I'm super excited to check out more next free chance I get!

My favorite F1 driver Lando Norris not only finished first place for his first time in a race this season, but he went on to finish 2nd overall in the rankings and my heart couldn't be prouder for him 🧡

On the same F1 note, my team McLaren won the Constructors Championship for the first time since 1998 😱

There were several massive moments of family drama through the year, each more shocking than the last if you can believe it, but I like to think we'll all hopefully enter 2025 on a closer note and manage to overcome the struggles bit by bit.

Had some health scares throughout the year for my family. Scary heart issues, scary lung issues, scary hospital visits...but we got through it all and we're going to try to make 2025 our healthiest year yet!

The death of Liam Payne tore a massive hole in my heart. One Direction kept me from suicide during my high school years and each of those boys will always mean the world to me 💗

I met several of my favorite celebrities this year at cons--David Tennant, Lenore Zann, Patrick Warburton, Alan Tudyk, Catherine Tate, Adam Savage, Tem Morrison, Neil Newbon, and Giancarlo Esposito--and also got another photo with Tyler Hoechlin looking just as gorgeous as the last time I saw him!

Tried out new cosplay this year--Ahsoka's white outfit from her series, Rogue from X-Men, and a cute Peter Pan outfit as well. Actually felt a little more confident than my previous 0% 😁

A year of firsts! I finished my first ever Lego kit this year of a F1 McLaren car. I finished my first ever escape room for my sister's birthday. And I also finished first place in a scavenger hunt and won a pumpkin carved like the Mandalorian.

Found out I'm allergic to gluten, so I've been sticking to a gluten-free diet nowadays and 2025 will be an entirely gluten-free year.

Seeing the eclipse this year was amazing!

I had an emotional breakdown this year over my writing, came very very very close to deleting everything, but slowly dug my way out of the pit one word at a time. My relationship with writing is still a fragile thing, but a sentence a day is still progress and I'm trying my best. That's what matters most :)

More on writing cuz why not. Wrote a total of 43k words (a whole lot less than last year, but oh well) but even more surprising, my Marcus Acacius fic received more kudos than anything I've written since 2022 omggggg y'all thank you for the support!!

Introduced my mom to MySims and Pokémon on the switch. Slowly but surely creating a video game addict lol

Stayed up literally 48 hours with my sister playing the original Zoo Tycoon on my laptop and creating the most perfect zoo in existence. Exhaustion hit hard afterwards, but at least the guests were happy!

So much gorgeous and wonderful Pedro content--from award ceremonies to new movies + casting announcements to photoshoots and dancing sessions. The fandom just kept winning every month!

Made a web weaving for the anniversary of my fic Infinity Cube. I don't often feel proud about a lot of my attempts of creating stuff, but this little thing I actually think turned out pretty cool 😊

Bought so much Lady and the Tramp stuff oh my gosh--backpacks, a wallet, a giant stuffed animal, a Christmas ornament, little ceramic figurines hidden at the bottom of an antique store bin. I love it all ✨

Hit 5,000 followers on here. Like, what 😮 that's insane! I'm a shy porcupine who barely knows any social skills!! Thank you everyone who puts up with my sporadic posts and ramblings, it's appreciated more than I can ever say!

Everyone who liked, reblogged, kudos, and/or commented on my fics or video edits---thank you thank you thank you x a million!

Everyone who patiently waits for and supports my sporadic updates of the Pedro Library---thank you also x a million!

And finally, if you've made it all the way down here, I hope 2025 is full of kind moments for each and every one of y'all. I hope there's days full of adventures and joy and trying new things and meeting new people and petting animals and eating delicious food and making the world a little bit more of a sweeter place overall 💙

[maskedemerald]

Weaving Webs CH8

Here is chapter eight of my Invisobang fic! Almost done with the editing so by Friday the whole fic should be up!

The wonderful @pricklenettle did some fantastic art that you'll see embedded through out the first half of the fic so if you haven't seen it go check out their blog now!

You can check out the fic here or on AO3!

If you like this consider dropping us both a follow!

Warnings: Body horror, manipulation, Spectra is her own content warning, Burns, Spider - for like 2 chapters then it goes away.

The Fenton parents were there when the accident happened, they saw Danny die in an act of sabotage. Now they’re just trying to go on with the strange ghost that is all that's left of Danny. While their old college friend is wondering where the subjects of his revenge are.

[First] [Previous] [Next]

Chapter Eight

Jazz paused in front school, she took a deep breath. She needed to steel herself. Since the moment she had gotten out of her car, eyes had been on her. Gossip was flying around her, even when she couldn’t hear them. Almost a month gone, of course it was going to draw attention.

She eventually forced herself to walk in, making a b-line for the school office. She didn’t know what her parents had told the school about what happened but she knew that it was protocol to have a return meeting after such an event. They’d be putting things in place to support her. They’d arrange sessions with the school counselor.

“Jasmine? It's good to have you back. Should we be expecting Daniel soon too?” the secretary said looking up.

Jazz froze, tears pricking at her eyes. They were expecting Danny. They didn’t know. Her parents hadn’t said. What had they even said? Did the school even know there had been an accident. That realistically Jazz needed to talk with the counselor.

“Jasmine? Are you alright?”

She was crying, Jazz blinked away tears. “I… I don’t know.”

“That’s okay dear. He can come back when he’s ready. I was told to give you a light schedule today and to see Mr Lancer for some catch up work. Do you want me to sign you up to speak with the counselor?”

“Please.” Jazz didn’t know how it was going to work when they didn’t know but she still needed it.

“Okay, take it easy today Jasmine. If you need a break then take it.”

“Right.”

Jazz breathed deeply to settle her nerves once outside the office. It was worse heading to class. People asking how she was, how Danny was and she couldn’t answer. Not truthfully. She got through one class before having to slip into the library for most of the rest of the day.

It was there that Mr Lancer found her.

“I won’t bother you for long. I know it's been a hard day. I have a couple of work packs for you and Daniel. Take your time with them though. No need if you’re not up to it.” He said sliding two folders across the table.

“Right… thank you…. I don’t know how much he’ll manage…” She said, awkwardly trying to explain while knowing that she can’t say anything.

What could she even say? What would happen if she said Danny was dead? Would they understand he was a ghost? What would happen to their parents? It wasn’t a good look to have not reported it.

“However much he can do is fine at the moment.” He reassured. “Maybe go home for the rest of the day, I’ll sign you out.”

“Thank you.”

She slammed the front door behind her.

“Hey Jazzy! What’s wrong? Had a bad day?” her Dad asked getting up from the sofa.

“Bad day? Bad day? Everyone kept asking about Danny! They didn’t even know he was… Why didn’t you tell them what happened!” She snapped.

“We couldn’t,” her Mom insisted.

“Why, he’s dead. Just because his ghost is still around doesn’t mean we can pretend nothing happened. They’re expecting him back at school. How’s he supposed to do that? Sooner or later they are going to notice he’s not coming back.”

“We’ll withdraw him. Say he needs special care?” Jack suggested.

“We can’t just isolate him. He needs some sort of normal. Maybe at least have Sam and Tucker…” the lights flickered at the names. She couldn’t see him but it was clear he was listening. The fact that he remembered his friends meant he needed to see them even more.

“We can’t… if people find out we risk losing what’s left of him.” her Mom defended.

“What are they going to do? He can literally go through things.”

“It's not that simple Jazz, there are people out there that will take him if they find out he’s here. People we’ve supplied. We know how they think… how we thought. They won’t understand that this is different because they don’t know Danny.” Her Mom explained, a guilty look on her face.

Jazz dropped into the seat outside the counselor’s office, her head already turning over what she was going to say. What she couldn’t say. One wrong move and she’d loose Danny. Still she needed help. They all did. Psychologically it had to be damaging to not be able to grieve properly. Danny was still there but he was different. He needed it too. She’d have to help him but her books didn’t really go into how to give therapy to your dead brother’s ghost. She couldn’t even ask about it hypothetically!

“Ah and you must be Jasmine!” Dr Spectra greeted her with a chipper tone.

Jazz plastered on her best coping smile, she knew it was shaky and fragile. She was fairly certain Dr Spectra saw right through her.

“Yes, that's me.”

“Come on in and we’ll get started,” she let Jazz into the office and paused by the thermostat dial to turn it down, “I hope you don’t mind the cold too much. I find it helps keep the mind sharp.”

“Oh um that’s fine,” she was used to the cold by now. Danny was cold. Being around Danny was cold. She was sure they were using more energy at home just to counteract the chill he produced.

Dr Spectra sat on the desk and gestured for Jazz to take a seat. She sat and looked up at Dr Spectra, still not sure what she was going to say at all.

“So where shall we start? I hear there was an incident at home?” Dr Spectra said with a pitying look. Or was that just the angle.

Jazz nodded, “there was an… accident, Danny… he got hurt,” hurt was an understatement, accident was also an understatement. She didn’t know if her parents had noticed that she had overheard them talking about that.

“Oh the poor dear, and who do you think is responsible for that?” There was something about the tone that just raised Jazz’s hackles.

Or maybe that was just her making assumptions. Jazz was probably reading in the accusation. Dr Spectra probably thought Jazz blamed herself. That was a normal problem according to her books.

“Responsible? I don’t blame myself if that’s what you’re asking,” she replied, cutting off the avenue of questioning. That wasn’t the help she needed. She wished that she could just ask for the help she needed.

Help coping with loss and the complication of Danny still being there. Even if she could say something without getting her parents into trouble for not reporting what happened to Danny how would anyone believe that he was really still around as a ghost. Well without seeing him for themselves but she didn’t think Danny was ready for strangers yet. And that wasn’t considering her parents' employers who might take him away.

“Accident implies mistake, someone had to make one,” Dr Spectra pushed.

She probably thought Jazz was lying. Being cagey about her feelings of guilt. She was avoiding saying too much so didn’t blame Dr Spectra for having that deduction. She wished she could just be honest.

Once she was home she settled at the kitchen table, it was a fight to get Danny to join her. Jazz flicked through the work packet for Danny, she glanced over to him where his glass face chewed on the old phone that he had been given to help him communicate. The thing had been bricked the moment it was in his hands. It was her old one. It at least still crackled out his speech.

She frowned, she wasn’t sure if he could handle it. His comprehension had not been good. Her parents said that not a lot of knowledge would have been copied over. That it would have been more emotional than actual memories. He could listen and talk but he didn’t really understand the point. What was the point when he wasn’t going to get any older?

She shook her head. She wasn’t helping thinking like that. Just because he was different and wouldn’t get older that didn’t mean he couldn’t benefit from learning. And maybe this would help him reach a sort of normal. Jazz tapped the table again drawing Danny’s attention back to the worksheet.

“How is Danny doing? I hear he hasn’t been getting through those homework packets Mr Lancer put so much effort into,” Dr Spectra asked as she settled into her seat and picked up her notepad.

“He’s managing, focusing on school work is hard for him right now,” Jazz explained.

It was as close to the truth as she could get, though it was frustrating that she wasn’t able to get Danny the help he needed to get through it.

“Oh? Maybe you should be helping him more?”

“I’ve been helping him every night,” Jazz insisted, maybe a little sharply.

She took a deep breath, Dr Spectra was just trying to help. She didn’t know how bad Danny’s situation was. She didn’t know how hard helping him was. How hard it was to keep him focused, especially once it got dark. Jazz many times had to drag him from the roof. He still loved the stars, she was grateful that he hadn’t gone any higher than the roof.

“If you worked harder he would be coping better.”

That hurt. Both of them were trying their best.

“Your parents are scientists, right?” Dr Spectra asked as she flicked through her notes.

“Yes, they are.” Jazz replied wondering where she was going with this.

“Where do they work?” She looked down at her, the question curious.

“Oh in the basement actually. They have a lab down there,” It wasn’t like it was a secret. Pretty much common knowledge. She’d be able to find out with just a question to pretty much any of the teachers.

“Isn’t that a bit reckless of them?” She didn’t look surprised, “not exactly the safest thing. Oh and poor Danny’s accident was down there, right? Honestly, good parents should be more careful.”

Jazz frowned, did she already know. What was she even trying to do? Did she still think Jazz blamed them and was just trying to get an admission before trying to help her through it? Dr Spectra was the expert, no matter how irritating, she had to know what she was doing. Maybe it wasn’t Dr Spectra, maybe it was the fact that Jazz couldn’t tell her the truth of what happened. How could she really know how to help if Jazz kept lying?

“It wasn’t their fault,” Jazz insisted.

Dr Spectra raised an eyebrow, “really? I doubt they had nothing to do with it. All the staff have been talking about it. They say your father isn’t exactly the smartest man.”

Jazz saw red. Her Dad wasn’t stupid. Easily distracted, yes but not stupid. He knew how to manage his distractions. He wasn’t a danger in the lab. She’d seen the safety level in the lab, the only reason the incident had happened was sabotage.

“He’s not stupid! It wasn’t his fault!” She yelled.

“Oh dear, Jasmine breathe. I didn’t say he was stupid, though it can’t be easy with others thinking that. Thinking that it was his fault,” Dr Spectra soothed her hands up.

Had Jazz misunderstood. Had she really only been bringing up a rumor that she thought Jazz might have heard to try and deal with the hurt from it. Surely she could have phrased that better.

“If that bothered you so much I can’t imagine how you’d feel about what they are saying about little Danny,” it was so off hand.

Jazz scowled, anger still simmering, “what are they saying?” she shouldn’t even be humoring this. It was terrible counseling. Dr Spectra shouldn’t be bringing this up unprompted but she had to know what they were saying about Danny. Danny didn’t deserve anyone talking crap about him.

“Oh I shouldn’t…” she didn’t linger long, “however, surely Danny shouldn’t have been playing around down there. Not the smartest thing to be doing but then again teenage boys will be teenage boys.”

“Danny wasn’t playing around! He was helping them, he’s been studying with them for years,” Jazz snapped.

“And they agreed? You didn’t stop them? Surely you would know that’s not safe. I thought you had more sense than that,” Dr Spectra looked at her with a pointed look.

Jazz’s eye twitched, “MY parents knew what they were doing! Danny knew what he was doing! It wasn’t either of their faults!”

“Maybe you distracted them? Him even? You do talk a lot,” Spectra needled.

“I… I wasn’t even down there!” Jazz gave an exasperated shout.

“If you’d been down there maybe he wouldn’t have gotten hurt,” Spectra said not even looking fazed by the shouting.

Jazz stood sharply not even caring that the chair clattered to the floor, “that’s it, we’re done! I’m sick of this. I don’t know what your goal is ‘Dr’ but it sure isn’t helping.”

“Jasmine? What are you talking about? I’m here to help,” Spectra hopped to her feet with a clack of her heels.

“Then you’re not very good at your job,” Jazz bit as she slammed the door behind her.

She stormed through the corridor, each step an echoing stomp through quiet after school halls. That woman was completely unprofessional. A counselor wasn’t meant to behave like that. At first she thought she was just misunderstanding ‘Dr’ Spectra’s methods but now it just seemed like the woman just wanted to kick her down further instead of lifting her up. Was she even a qualified doctor?

By the time she reached her locker to grab her bag tears of anger were streaming hot down her face. A strangely welcome change from the grief based tears that she had been dealing with so much. She was looking forward to the safety of her car to calm down before driving home. She slammed her locker door.

“Hey Jazz, wait up!” she flinched at the sound of Tucker’s voice.

She couldn’t face them, not now. She hated lying to them. They were Danny’s friends, he needed them but she couldn’t. How did someone even tell someone else that their friend was dead but not. She kept going, trying to ignore the hastening footsteps squeaking on the laminate.

“Jazz! Stop avoiding us! You can’t keep doing this!” Sam snapped, grabbing her shoulder and forcing her to turn round.

“Yeah we just want to know how…” Tucker trailed off, “Jazz, you alright? Did something happen? Danny’s okay, right?”

Jazz looked down, she couldn’t look him in the eyes, “I’m… fine…” she winced, that was a Danny line, “he’s fine, just a bad session with Spectra.”

“Ugh, shrinks,” Sam rolled her eyes, “they’re all a bunch of quacks.”

“Maybe we should walk with you to your car to make sure you’re okay,” Tucker started and then quickly finished, “and then we can come over and see Danny.”

Jazz had been about to say yes. She’d wanted the company. She paused, her mouth open. He’d been trying to trick her into agreeing to something she’d been avoiding. She didn’t have any right to be angry at him. He was trying to trick her, badly she might add and meanwhile she was lying to them and avoiding the Danny situation.

“Sorry… you can’t… he’s not up to…” she awkwardly tried to brush them off.

“No! I’m sick of hearing that! That’s what your parents keep saying. I want to hear it from him,”  Sam shouted.

“Sam…” Tucker started.

“No! I don’t care how upset she is Tucker! She’s not the only one dealing with all this! What about Danny? He’s not answering his phone! He could at least text or call!”

“He can’t, his phone broke,” it was the only thing that was easy to say. Easy because she wasn’t exactly lying to them. Broken was an understatement. It had burnt up in the portal along with everything else.

“It's been almost a month Jazz, he can get another phone! Hell I’ll buy him one if he just uses it!” Sam pulled down the weak excuse, “you can’t keep doing this, all of you. I want to see Danny and if you don’t do something I’ll find my own way!”

“I… I’ll see what I can do,” Jazz surrendered, she doubted her parents would agree but Danny needed some sort of normal and she couldn’t let Sam and Tucker face this without some warning.

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