#we also met Daniel multiple times

[reigningm4x]

Only update I’ll be posting for now is that I met Max early this morning. He was coming down the stairs with his dad and I asked if he can sign my hat, he said yup, signed it then I asked for him to sign a second one, and he said sure, signed it, was so sweet.

As I was shaking and freaking the fuck out after, a marshal who was standing by came over, and he was like “you’re lucky, you know. That doesn’t always happen” and then we had a solid 10 minute convo where he told us about how he’s known Max since Toro Rosso. How he’s one of the nicest guys, got into Red Bull and had a single focus and has since relaxed. How when his dad is around he’s a bit more tense, but that he’s so genuine. He said he doesn’t always talk to people when he’s stopping which is why he said I was lucky.

Feeling blessed on the eve of my 30th birthday.

[devilsminion-armandaniel]

Interview can be read below as well.

As Interview with the Vampire flies head-first for season 3, one star of the show has teased his potential return for future seasons – and hinted that we could see a fan-favourite chapter from Anne Rice's books adapted.

Chatting exclusively to RadioTimes.com about where he sees Daniel's journey going in future seasons, Field said: "I would love to [return].

I think there's so much to explore with Daniel Molloy, old and young. We’ve got so much literature in Anne Rice's wonderful books, certain chapters, certain things that can be explored, so I would be over the moon to explore it.

"Eric and I have discussed things about the character, which I know that we would love to talk more about or show more in an upcoming season, whatever that looks like. But Rollin [Jones, showrunner] is so amazing, I'm sure whatever he decides to do, it'll be great. And if that includes me, then, gosh, lots to happen maybe."

Field is no stranger to Rice's books and what the show's fandom is hoping for, adding that he would love for The Devil's Minion, the iconic chapter which details a romantic relationship between young Daniel and Armand, will be adapted.

"Look, of course, there is a very specific chapter, which I know a lot of people love," he pointed out.

When I've met fans, they've certainly discussed it with me, or just talked about it. And I read it multiple times. And it's truly amazing. So to take that at some point and intercut it, with whatever season happens, that would be amazing.

"But also, obviously Daniel’s memory pretty much is wiped out for a lot of what we've seen so far. But I think it would be interesting to see how he's still manipulated by them, and still very much drawn into that world. And you know, we've already seen that memory is a monster, as the tagline goes, and what happens further to Daniel, which he thinks is his life construct, really, possibly could have been the vampires the whole time. And that's awesome."

[logansargeantsbabymom]

A Love Worth Fighting For

Bodyguard!Lando Norris x Fem!Actress!Reader

CHAPTERS 3, 4 & 5

Genre: Forbidden Bodyguard to Lover

Warnings: Smut (Not yet), This is (MY VERSION of) a Slow Burn story!

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

Instagram

Chapter 3: Lando

From the moment I was assigned to protect Y/N L/N, I knew this job would be different. She wasn't just any client. She was one of the most famous actresses in the world, a superstar known for her roles in the Avengers movies and her solo Marvel films. But beyond the glitz and glamour, she was also a target. There had been multiple kidnapping attempts, and it was my job to ensure her safety at all times.

When I first met her, I was struck by her beauty and poise. She was everything I expected and more. But as the days turned into weeks, I began to see the real Y/N – the woman behind the fame. She was kind, compassionate, and surprisingly down-to-earth. And despite the walls she had built around herself, I could see glimpses of vulnerability that made me want to protect her even more.

But no matter how strong my feelings grew, I had to remind myself of my duty. My job was to keep her safe, not to get involved. And as long as I was her bodyguard, I had to maintain a professional distance, no matter how difficult it became.

Chapter 4: Lando

Y/N had a close-knit circle of friends, and one of her best friends was Daniel Ricciardo, a driver for Red Bull Racing. When she told me she wanted to attend one of his races, I knew it would be a logistical nightmare. But I also knew how important it was to her, so I did everything in my power to make it happen.

The day of the race was hectic, to say the least. Security was tight, and the crowds were massive. But Y/N was in her element, cheering for Daniel and mingling with other celebrities. I stayed close, my eyes constantly scanning the crowd for any potential threats.

As the race ended and we made our way back to the car, I couldn't help but notice the sparkle in her eyes. She was genuinely happy, and it was a sight that warmed my heart. But as we drove back to the mansion, I couldn't shake the feeling that this happiness was fleeting. The dangers that came with her fame were never far away, and it was my job to ensure she stayed safe.

That evening, as we were leaving things took a turn for the worse. A group of men, clearly intoxicated, approached us with aggressive intentions. They recognized Y/N and started hurling insults, their behavior quickly escalating.

I stepped in front of her, my body tense and ready to defend her at any cost. "Stay behind me," I instructed, my voice firm.

The men continued to advance, their intentions clear. But I wasn't about to let them get any closer. With a few swift moves, I managed to subdue them, ensuring Y/N's safety.

As the police arrived and took the men away, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. This was exactly why I needed to be by her side at all times. The world was full of dangers, and I couldn't let anything happen to her.

Chapter 5: Y/N

The next few days passed in a blur of interviews, photo ops, and public appearances. Lando was always by my side, his presence a comforting constant. Despite the hectic schedule, my mind kept drifting back to the confrontation at the race track. Lando's bravery, his unwavering dedication to my safety – it all made me see him in a new light.

We were back in my mansion, preparing for a quiet evening. I had invited Blake Lively, Ryan Reynolds, and Taylor Swift over for dinner. They were my closest friends, my support system, and I needed their company now more than ever.

As we sat around the dining table, laughing and sharing stories, I noticed Lando standing discreetly in the corner, his eyes never leaving me. It was like he was always on high alert, ready to jump into action at a moment's notice.

Taylor leaned over, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, Y/N, how's it going with your dashing bodyguard?"

I blushed, glancing at Lando. "It's...fine. He's very professional."

Blake raised an eyebrow. "Professional, huh? Is that code for 'I have a crush on him'?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "No, it's not like that. He's just...different."

Ryan chimed in, a grin on his face. "Different how? Come on, spill the beans."

I sighed, feeling the weight of their curiosity. "He's always there, you know? Always looking out for me. It's...reassuring."

Blake's expression softened. "It sounds like he cares about you."

I glanced at Lando again, my heart skipping a beat. "Maybe. But he's made it clear that he's just doing his job."

Taylor placed a hand on my arm, her voice gentle. "Just be careful, Y/N. It's easy to confuse gratitude with something more."

I nodded, appreciating her concern, but deep down, I knew that my feelings for Lando were growing stronger with each passing day.

After my friends left, I found myself alone with Lando in the dimly lit living room. He was standing by the window, staring out into the night. I walked over, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Lando," I began, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to thank you for what you did at the race track. You saved me."

He turned to look at me, his eyes softening. "It's my job, Y/N. I would do it again in a heartbeat."

I took a deep breath, my heart racing. "But it's more than that, isn't it? I mean, you could have been hurt."

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."

I stepped closer, my eyes searching his. "Why?"

For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. "Because I care about you, Y/N. More than I should."

My breath caught in my throat. This was the moment I had been waiting for, the moment when he finally acknowledged what I had been feeling all along.

"Lando, I..." I began, but he held up a hand, stopping me.

"We can't," he said, his voice firm. "It would compromise my contract. And more importantly, it would put you in danger. My job is to protect you, not to be with you."

I felt a pang of disappointment, but I understood. He was right. Our relationship was complicated, and there were too many risks involved.

But as I looked into his eyes, I couldn't help but hope that one day, things might be different.

And with that thought lingering in my mind, I knew that this was just the beginning of a long, complicated journey. A journey that would test our resolve, our feelings, and ultimately, our fate.

---------------------

Feedback and Suggestions are ALWAYS welcomed.

Taglist:

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 12

[Master List]

Cookies, books, wallet, keys. Cookies, books, wallet, keys. Cookies, books- what was he forgetting? He felt like he was forgetting something important. It was an aggravating feeling considering there definitely wasn’t something else he was supposed to be bringing. Hell- the cookies were an above and beyond kind of thing- even if they didn’t feel like it.

Was there any such thing as above and beyond for the man who’d killed his murderer? Not just killed, nonchalantly- accidentally killed the clown. It was such an anti-climatic death there was no way the Joker wasn’t rolling over in his grave. Cookies were the least Jason could do to thank Danny.

Of course, Hood was also bringing him and his ... kids- food multiple times a week and checking in on Miguel and Santiago when they stayed in their own apartment. He’d made sure to drop by every night after Miguel’s kidnapping and on the third night (the night after learning about Danny’s death which- what the fuck?) after the incident, the boys had gone back to their own place. He’d stopped on their fire escape just to make sure they were fine and had ended up staying and talking with Miguel for a while.

The kid was great; he didn’t have any fear of the Red Hood- most street kids in Crime Alley didn’t- and they’d had a nice long chat. He hadn’t met Santiago yet so he wasn’t sure what to expect, but if he was anything like his brother, Jason was sure they’d get along great.

Still, he felt…. Underdressed? It was a strange sentiment but something was off, something was missing. Irritated by the anxious feeling clawing inside his stomach, Jason pushed away the thoughts and focused instead on something else- anything else.

Arriving at the apartment building he’d been to many times at this point (usually when Danny was at work), Jason parked his bike and headed up. He knew exactly where he was going but it was strange to go there from inside the building instead of through the windows and fire escapes. He knocked on the door he knew was Danny’s, and waited.

There was a loud noise inside (some kind of arguing?) before the door was flung open by a woman who looked exactly like Danny. 

“Dani!” Danny shouted and- okay- that was a weird sentence.

“So you’re Jason?” The girl- Dani..?- said accusatorily.

Jason didn’t know how to respond and instead offered up the cookies. “Yes..?” Okay seriously Todd, when did you start acting like such a coward? Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Yeah, I’m Jason, and you are?”

“I’m Dani- Danny’s younger sister and-”

“You’re both named Danny?”

Danny dug his fingers into his eyes. “Dani, can you please let him in?”

“Oh. Yeah.” She stepped aside and Jason stepped into the familiarly barren apartment. It wasn’t that Danny had no decorations, just… very few. A few pictures of his friends, a plant with a note next to it saying ‘do NOT kill this one Danny!’, and some random Nasa and space themed memorabilia. Actually most of that seemed new.

“Miguel! Santi! Jason’s here!” Danny called into the apartment. “They’re around here somewhere… You want anything to drink?” He took the cookies from Jason with a head dip and the feeling of Grateful-Nice-Happy washed over him which Jason did not know how to interpret.

Jason brushed it off. “Tea?”

Danny nodded and left to make the tea while Dani got comfortable at the coffee table in the living room. He chose to join her, placing the books he’d brought onto the table. “So Dani, your parents crazy or do they just really like the name Danny?”

She looked at him sharply as he started but softened by the end as if he’d almost offended her. “Ah- no, well yes- he’s Daniel, I’m Danielle, but neither of us like our full names-”

“That’s because the people who call us by our full names are all trying to kill us!” Danny shouted jokingly. Dani nodded sagely- wait- he was joking right?

“So we thought it’d be funny to both go by Danny. I’m Dani-with-an-i and he’s Danny-with-a-y.” She finished, going back to whatever she had been working on before, sticking out her tongue and squinting while writing something down.

“The venn diagram of people who call us by our full names and people who are trying to kill us is a circle, Dani.” Danny said pointedly, caming back into the room with a tray and placing it on the opposite end of the coffee table. That was a joke, right? (Knowing what he knew as Hood, he didn’t actually believe it was.) “Right, I’ve brought cream, sugar, and I didn’t know what tea you liked so I just made black but I have others if you don’t like it.”

“Black tea’s good.” Jason confirmed, adding a bit of sugar and milk to his cup and stirring.

“Sorry we’re late!” The front door opened. Jason thought they were in the apartment? “Someone didn’t wanna come.” 

Looking up, Jason watched as Miguel grumpily kicked off his shoes, dropped his jacket on the nearest chair, and headed to the kitchen, not even offering the living room so much as a hello. Another boy- who looked so much like Miguel but younger and with brighter eyes- hopped into the room and smiled at Danny. 

“No worries, Santi, this is Jason. He’s going to be tutoring you guys in English. Jason, this is Santiago.” Danny gestured between the two.

The boy examined Jason closely, clearly sizing him up, before untensing his shoulders and moving into the living space. “Hi.” He offered somewhat shyly.

Well that was fair, Jason would have been much ruder when he was Santiago’s age. “Hey kid, how’s it going?”

“Better before now.” Miguel grumbled, dragging himself into the room and settling into the armchair furthest from Jason.

Yikes, what crawled up his ass and died?

Looking towards the ceiling, exasperated, Danny sat on the couch- a central location between everyone else and Miguel. Okay. Well. That was probably his cue to start talking. Shit- what had he gotten himself into? He didn’t know how to teach! Even if he’d helped his siblings (not that any of them would admit to that- himself included) and been good at English in high school that didn’t mean he’d be a good teacher!

“Well, before we get into it, I wanted to see what you boys were comfortable doing. I’ve got these,” He rifled through the books he’d brought and pulled out two papers. “They’re writing prompts. After reading the excerpt at the top you write a standard essay and I’ll look over them afterwards to get a better idea of what you guys need help with. Sound good?”

Santiago eyed him warily but nodded slowly. Miguel gave him a blank stare until Danny sighed quietly, then the older boys face cringed slightly before blanking again.

Jason decided to ignore it and hand the boys their papers. “Take all the time you need but remember, I’m just trying to get a feel for where you’re at, it in no way has to be perfect.”

The boys worked for a while, each having moments of frustration. At one point Santiago stood up and went to the kitchen where he- Jason thought- paced for a few minutes before he came back, calmer, and finished the paper. Miguel kept squinting at the page, rereading lines, growing more and more upset until he finally gave back the paper and speed walked out of the apartment.

Sharing a look with Danny, Jason wondered if that was normal. Was he squinting because he didn’t understand the wording? Or maybe he had poor eyesight? Jason continued to contemplate what it could have been about while Danny followed after the older boy.

“Don’t worry about him.” Santiago said quietly, not looking up from the other school work he’d been doing while waiting for Miguel to finish his essay. “He gets overwhelmed. Thinks ‘e’s stupid er somethin’.”

Ah. Well. Jason understood that sentiment. He’d loved school, as a kid who’d never had the opportunity to go and didn’t think he ever would, going to school (especially college) had been Jason’s dream. That didn’t mean he thought he was smart enough for it. Alfred (and even Bruce) had been privy to some very embarrassing meltdowns about how stupid Jason thought he was.

(Was, past tense, because Jason certainly didn’t think that now. Even if Timbers constantly figured things out that Jason couldn’t possibly hope to figure out on his own. Even if Damian had a larger vocabulary and better grades than he’d had at the same age. Even if Duke had just graduated as valedictorian with honors while maintaining his daylight vigilante lifestyle. Even if every single member of his family was ten times smarter than he was- he was still smart. Yeah. No childhood insecurities had carried into adulthood here- no sir.)

“Well, I’m sure that’s not true. He just thinks that cause he’s from the streets. I thought I was stupid too when I lived on the streets.” Jason said nonchalantly, feeling Dani’s eyes on him. “So Santiago, I brought a couple of books- you can choose which one we start with and find something you might enjoy, how’s that sound?”

Miguel never came back. Danny did, with a poorly hidden frustration masked behind optimism. At least it didn’t seem like Santiago was able to pick up on Danny’s jitteriness or frustration. After the essay and picking a book to read (He’d chosen The Giver) Jason had given him a workbook and instructed him on how to correct the sentences in the module. Some were missing commas, some were missing capitalization, and so on and so forth.

Dani had long since abandoned what she’d been working on so Jason took a look. What? He was curious. She was getting her GED- something he’d considered on and off for years- and he just wanted to know what went into it. So he was curious, sue him.

Someone cleared their throat causing Jason to jump and look around quickly. Danny was jerking his head towards the kitchen and with a glance at Santiago, who’d apparently fallen asleep with his head on the table. Stealthily, Jason followed the man into the kitchen and checked the time on his way. Huh, he’d been here for almost two hours at this point- longer than he’d thought.

“Sorry about all that.” Danny spoke, quietly. “You want anything to eat? Drink? You’ve been here a while.”

Jason shrugged, feigning indifference. “I wouldn’t say no to some more tea.”

Danny nodded, putting the kettle on the stove and getting everything ready. “Your money’s on the table.” He gestured again with his head and Jason tried to ignore the way his hair fell over his eyes every time. “Miguel might take some time before he really participates in your lessons, I appreciate your patience.” 

Leaning against the counter, Jason shrugged. “Not a big deal, really. Reminds me of myself when I was his age- actually, he’s a lot less angry than I was at seventeen.” A lot less murdery too.

“Yeah… Me too.”

Whipping his head around, Jason caught Danny staring into one of the mugs he’d just put a tea bag into. His stare was thoughtful, considering, until he snapped out of it and looked up to meet Jason’s eyes and- oh god. He was staring. He couldn’t help it. He’d never seen blue eyes so dark before. Almost all of his siblings had blue eyes, but they were just… blue. Danny’s eyes were dark blue, reflecting the kitchen lights and sparkling like the night sky and they were perfectly framed by his long dark eyelashes and-

“Jason?”

Forcefully pulling himself out of whatever the fuck kind of trance he’d just voluntarily gone into, Jason tried to focus. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Danny tilted his head. “I… wasn’t.”

“Oh.”

Their attention was pulled away from each other as the kettle started to whistle quietly. Danny turned it off quickly and Jason remembered the boy asleep in the other room. A mug of tea, with a little cream and sugar, was quickly pushed into Jason’s hands and he took it gratefully.

“Well, thank you for tonight. Hopefully next time goes a bit better.” Danny leaned against the opposite counter and lightly blew the steam from the top of his mug.

Jason nodded. “Well maybe whatever put Miguel in a bad mood today won’t affect him next time.”

Letting out a small chuckle, Danny shook his head. “I doubt it. I think it’s mostly me making him do school stuff. He… thinks he’s stupid. He’s not, but he’s not really good at school stuff and he doesn’t have the patience. Again, reminds me of myself in that aspect.”

Thinking for a moment, Jason cut in. “I think you should get him tested for dyslexia.”

Danny froze momentarily before looking up to meet Jason’s eyes again. “Why do you say that?”

“He was squinting at the page. Maybe he just needs glasses, but I noticed a lot of spelling errors when I glanced at his work earlier. It would explain his frustration with school stuff. Santiago has some interesting tics too and seemed…” He got angry at his next thought. “Scared every time I noticed him fidgeting or making noise.”

The man closed his eyes. “Yeah… I… noticed that too.” Jason noted the way the man’s voice cracked. “They don’t like to talk about their parents, from what I’ve gathered their dad was quite abusive.”

Jason and Danny shared a knowing look, each saying they understood. It wasn’t something he’d wanted to see in Danny’s eyes, but the longer Jason looked into them the more he got the idea that Danny’d been through more than he let on with his optimistic ‘I’m helping people for the sake of helping people cause that’s the right thing to do’ attitude.

“Well, things will only get better the longer they’re with someone who takes care of and loves them. Certainly helped me.” He added the last bit quietly. Danny hummed in acknowledgement, but not agreement. The realization that they were the same- that they’d had abusive dads (that they’d died), that they’d been angry teens, it had made Jason wonder if (hope) Danny had had a Bruce.

But his hum had been acknowledgement not understanding and not everyone was as lucky as he’d been. Sure, he and Bruce didn’t see eye to eye a lot of the time, they’d had their fights, he’d said bad things about Bruce (some of which he believed), but he’d had Bruce. Danny clearly hadn’t had anyone to help him out of his shitty home. Someone who believed in him and pushed him to be the best version of himself he could while also taking care of his emotional needs. 

Danny’d been trapped.

“I’m sorry.” Jason said before he could stop himself.

“Hm?” Danny looked up from wherever he’d been staring a moment before. “For what?”

Letting out a puff of air, Jason frowned. “I didn’t mean to… bring up any… bad memories.”

The man’s eyes softened and god how were his eyes so beautiful and deep? “Don’t worry about it.” He waved his hand casually. “It’s all in the past. Besides, I’ve got bigger worries now.”

“I guess you do.” Jason agreed. “But if you- uh, ever want to talk… I’m willing to listen.”

The look Danny gave him made him feel small. Not in a bad way- more like… he felt appreciated and he wasn’t exactly used to that. Like he’d done something worthy of Danny’s gratitude. “I’ll keep you in mind if I ever need to talk, Jason.”

Emboldened by the surge of positive emotions (a rarity for Jason), he smirked. “You can keep me in mind for more than that, doll.”

“Oh, we’re back to this, huh?” But Danny’s voice was only filled with mirth. “What else should I keep you in mind for then, Darling?”

Unwilling to back down this time- he was prepared for Danny’s flirting this time around- Jason looked the man up and down suggestively. “I can think of a few things, but I think I’d better take you to dinner first.”

“Is that right? Just dinner? Or were you thinking about dessert too?” Danny glanced between Jason's eyes and his lips, licking his own.

Fuuuuck this man was going to kill him.

Jason leaned forward. “I’m always thinkin’ about dessert, doll.”

Opening his mouth to respond, Danny’s smirk dropped quickly and Jason wondered if he’d said something wrong. Gearing up to apologize for crossing a line, he was interrupted as Miguel turned the corner and eyed the two of them warily. Studying Danny fleetingly, Jason wondered how he’d known the boy was coming in- even Jason hadn’t heard the door open or his footsteps. Though that might have been more due to the pounding of his heartbeat being the only thing he could hear.

“Miguel.” Danny greeted happily. “You want some tea?”

The boy looked between the two men before scoffing, turning on his heel, and leaving the exact way he’d just come in.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Danny seemed to be calming himself. “Sorry about that.” He started, still visibly calming down. 

“No worries, really. Teenagers gonna be teenagers, right?” Jason shrugged.

“Yeah I just didn’t think I’d have to deal with it at the ripe age of twenty-two- er… three, I guess..”

Jason tilted his head. 

“It always takes me a while to get used to saying a new age. Anyways, I should probably get Santiago to a bed and see what’s going on with Miguel today.” Danny scooped an envelope up from the table and offered it to Jason. “This is what I owe you, I hope tonight hasn’t completely deterred you from tutoring the boys.”

Taking the (ridiculously thick) envelope from Danny, Jason pocketed it. “Nah, it takes a lot more than that to scare me off. I’ll get out of your hair so you can take care of your- uh take care of the kids.”

Danny, who definitely didn’t miss Jason’s slip-up if his doubtful look was anything to go by, led him to the door and waited for Jason to slip his shoes on before opening the door. “I’ll see you Wednesday.” He saluted casually before walking away- why the fuck did he salute?!- and heard the door close behind him.

Taking a moment to relax (why had he been so tense?), Jason let out a deep breath. 

“Yeah, must be exhausted.” Jason whipped around to see Miguel crouching outside his apartment, twirling a pencil. The remark was sarcastic and followed up with an eye roll but Jason couldn’t help being a little happy the kid had willingly spoken to him.

Turning to face the kid fully, Jason tried to push out an aura of calm. “Not really. Why would you think that?”

Miguel rolled his eyes and stood up. “Don’t play stupid.”

“I’m not playin’, kid.” Jason shrugged.

“I’m sure teachin’ a idiot for two hours and then fallin’ all over Danny is exhaustin’.” Miguel spat. “So, you must be exhausted.”

Oh. Okay. So that’s what this was about. “It’s not nice to call your brother an idiot.” 

Affronted, Miguel sputtered. “What- I didn’- I would never- I meant me ya dumbass!” He hissed, seemingly aware that his brother was asleep in the other apartment and Danny had really good hearing which- wait was that another meta thing?

“You weren’t with us for two hours.” Jason shrugged. “Besides, neither of you are idiots.”

“Oh please- I was failin’ school ‘fore I dropped out, no way I’m gettin’ back in no matter how hard Danny tries.” Despite the venom it was said with, Jason could tell there was more sadness than anything else. He knew that feeling.

“Listen, Miguel-”

“Don’ act like we’re friends!” Miguel whisper-shouted across the hall, opening his apartment door. “An’ leave Danny alone- he ain’t interested in someone like you- he already has someone ‘e likes!”

And then he slammed the door, negating all his work to keep quiet, and likely alerting Danny to the argument and waking Santiago if he hadn’t been awake already. Jason hightailed it out of there not wanting to be caught still standing outside Danny’s apartment.

The ride back to his apartment felt longer than it was as he replayed the conversation he’d had with Danny through the lens of ‘him already having someone he likes’. It sure seemed like they’d been on the same page earlier. Jason hadn’t been too cryptic, right? Everyone knew what ‘dessert’ implied while flirting, right? He’d been the one to bring it up!

By the time Jason got back to his place it was almost nine which meant he’d need to start patrol soon so he definitely didn’t have time to be overthinking every expression and word that’d passed between the two of them. (He still did.)

“Jay! You made cookies and didn’t save me any?!” A familiarly obnoxious voice greeted him when he opened the door. 

Groaning inwardly, Jason scowled. “What are you doing here, Dickface?”

“Can’t a big brother visit his baby brother?”

Technically, Dick was in his Nightwing suit, so he probably shouldn’t be connecting them so obviously. But Jason had never given a flying fuck about B’s rules. “Not your baby brother.” Jason muttered, kicking off his boots and placing the stack of books he’d brought to Danny’s (Minus the Giver) onto the kitchen counter. “What do you want?”

Dick frowned. “You’re usually out by now, wanted to see what was up and then I found you made cookies and didn’t save me any!” 

There was no evidence that Jason had made cookies (he cleaned up as he went, thank you very much) but there was a lingering smell and when it came to sweets, Dick could always sniff out anything. “They were for a friend.”

His brother gasped. Great, now he’d done it. “A friend? You have a friend, Jaybird? Who is it? Why’d you make them cookies? Are they more than a friend?”

“Shut up, Big bird.” Jason grumbled, collapsing back onto his couch and closing his eyes.

The gasp his brother let out this time was louder than the last. “They are more than a friend! Little wing! Were you on a date?”

As if. Too bad Danny ‘already likes someone else’. Shaking away his self pity party, Jason reminded himself of Danny’s flirting. The things he said weren’t something you just said to anyone- right? Of course, they hadn’t known each other that long- sure, Red Hood had known Danny for almost two months, but Jason had just met the guy a couple weeks ago. Maybe Danny was just a flirt?

“Jayyy!” Dick whined. “Tell me about your friend!”

Burying his face into the crook of his elbow, Jason tried to ignore the man’s incessant whining. Until he couldn’t. It was just-so annoying. “Dick! Shut up!” Despite being thoroughly annoyed, Jason noted the distinct lack of green in his vision- something that definitely should have turned up by now. “He’s just a friend, the cookies were a thank-you, now get out of my apartment!”

Pushing the man towards his window, Jason begged whatever gods were listening that none of the other bats were listening at the moment. 

“Okayyyyy,” Dick whined. “But next time I come over you need to tell me all about your boy friend that’s not your boyfriend.”

“Get out!” Jason shoved him.

Falling onto the fire escape his brother grunted but finally took the hint, leaping off the landing and grappling away. Finally, some peace. He deserved a moment of peace and quiet, he’d had a long day- hell a long week. He’d wanted to visit Danny as Hood again, get some more answers, but every night had been filled with B&E’s, robberies, muggings, his own drug bust he’d been working on for a while, and a case Cass had asked him to help on.

He’d stopped by to see Miguel only once in the last week and hadn’t gotten the chance to stop by Danny’s before getting pulled away again. It had been a long and frustrating week. Tonight had been especially frustrating in its own unique way.

Gearing up, he pleaded with the same gods from earlier for one quiet night. Just one, just so he could ask Danny what the fuck he meant by- well everything he’d said.

He did not, in fact, get his wish.

Prev. Next

[n1ghttrouble]

F1 DRIVERS IF THEY WERE REGULAR GAY DUDES

(gay people I know/have met)

Before we start, pls know this is just for funsies and not like a guide or sumn for how to write them or wtv, of course, if any of these strike inspiration you're free to use these characterizations for any works.

Most of these are mixes of people I know irl, so none of it is meant as a diss or anything. ALSO there is a theme you'll start to notice in a lot of these bc I hang out in very specific groups lmao

tags contain everyone mentioned

Continue below cut

Max: First of all, bottom but could top for the right guy. Pup, sub, twinky but he’s not feminine enough to ever be called one. You either find him in the club or at home nursing a hangover, or in some older guy’s bed. Doesn’t use anything but alc but somehow knows where to find everything anyway. Also a nerdy gay (gamer loser boyfriend). Has a d/s contract. (also could be defined as “boy/boi” but that term is a bit controversial so)

Charles: Verse, always depends on his mood (and who he’s with). Drag queen, twunk, big into the leather scene. Big party gay, does poppers and coke, very careful about who he gets it from though. Always up to some shit and no one knows what his real job is or if he even has one, probably has a sugar daddy on the low (or he’s a circuit gay, both make sense). 

Carlos: Top, changes between dom/sub tho. Otter, leather daddy, brat tamer. DL kinda, in the sense that he keeps it strictly to nightlife but open to having a full-time relationship w a man. Strictly into twinks and slightly younger dudes. Has a d/s contract for sure.

Oscar: Verse, tops more. Only subs for people he really trusts (even as a sub he tops often). Pup handler/trainer (a pup when he’s a sub), twunk. Not big into parties unless he’s going with his dom, since he knows someone’s going to look after him and he can just relax. Newbie in the leather scene but into it. Has a very light d/s contract with a dom, essentially for learning (but also for having fun of course).

Daniel: Definition of verse, both in top/bottom and sub/dom. Jock, such a jock, like it’s not even funny. Pup handler, not into being a pup when he’s sub tho. Also lowkey a spunk monkey but I hate that term so no. Lives at pride events during June. Party gay once again, but on another level, he basically lives at the nightclub. Nobody knows how he has the energy (it’s drugs and red bull). Probably a circuit gay idk what other job he’d have the time for, maybe porn star. Has multiple d/s contracts.

Lando: BOTTOM do not argue with me abt this I don’t want to hear it. Sub but he’s so bratty he might as well be a dom if his top is a softie. The literal definition of a twink. Circuit gay and a DJ, also camboy on the side. Into the leather scene a little bit but intimidated by how much time you have to put into it. Does drag sometimes when he has the time. Obviously a clubber, does poppers, coke, and really anything in the club, but still careful. Wants a d/s contract but doesn’t have time for one.

George: Bottom, topped once and got tired of having to do so much. Essentially a pillow princess (even tho that’s a lesbian term but we’re using it for this). Twink, sub most of the time, can be bratty, into the leather scene. Not the biggest partier but he gets dragged along as the sober friend and then ends up hooking up with someone random. His friends make it home with or without him. Nerdy gay but not in the same way Max is. Very much an activist.

Lewis: Verse, tries to convince everyone that he’s strictly a top though (it never works). Jock (??) I don’t really know actually he’s a bit of an enigma when it comes to this. Very into the leather scene, like very into it. Makes his money modelling and uses the money to party and run charities. Runs at least five pride events around the world. Activist through and through. In an open relationship of like fifteen years. Young gays always call him a dilf and he tries to tell them he is not that old (has like three crises about his age a week). 

Fernando: Top when it comes to younger guys, verse when it comes to his husband. Bear, this is not biased at all, I definitely do not have a thing for bears and him, shhh. Leather daddy. Goes to leather events and average bars, hasn’t stepped foot into a nightclub in years. D.I.L.F. Open relationship with his husband & also a d/s contract. One of those really nice older gay guys who just seem so approachable and has answers to everyone’s questions.

Pierre: Top and dom. Surprisingly vanilla but he can get down with some basic kinks. Fuckboy™, everyone knows he has at least five twinks in his bed every week. Goes to parties but it’s to seek out more hookups. His phone is always the culprit of a distant grindr notif. Definitely uses one of those dating apps where you can see every guy’s location and can just go hook up wherever they’re at. (I swear I’m not dissing him but someone had to be like this)

Lance: Bottom, sub. Twink, unsurprisingly vanilla. One of those guys who has enough of his own money to not need a sugar daddy but has one anyway. Hosts a lot of parties but he’s rarely seen at them unless they’re very luxurious ones. The gay friend™, mostly has female friends and takes them out when their boyfriends are being assholes or they get stood up by a date. Fashion gay also.

Nico R.: Idk probably verse but I can easily also see him being strictly top or bottom so. Leans more to dom but def enjoys being sub too. If we’re talking about younger nico then twink 100%. Used to be a party gay and went to events at like 18-23 but got bored of it after that and settled down with a guy who definitely isn’t as relaxed as he is but he doesn’t mind it. (They fight about it all the time)

Sebastian: This guy is a bottom bro💀. Sub but like so bratty that sometimes it leans to the dom side. TWINK. Kind of into the leather scene in the sense that he goes to the parties and wears gear but he’ll rarely engage in the kink side of the community (not saying he’s vanilla).  Flirts with everyone in the club he can get his eyes on but rarely actually goes home with someone (he’s picky). I’m basing this off like red bull seb btw bc it’s the most fun era of his.

Mark: 100% top. He’s like a loser top tho even though he’s also a brat tamer but sometimes he doesn’t have energy for all that. Dom but like I said, sometimes he just cba to actually dominate. WOLF WOLF WOLF IDC WHAT ANYONE ELSE SAYS. Into the leather scene yes bro is freaky w it too. Idk what I’m saying I’m tired. Um, so anyway. Yeah he doesn’t really go to parties unless his sub wants to go and he feels like tagging along. Has a few regular guys he fucks around with but doesn’t expand his horizons much. Also has a romantic partner.

Jenson: Completely depends on who he’s fucking and this goes for everything kink related. He’s a wolf too but tries to hold on to his twinkness from when he was younger. SLUT. Somehow hasn’t tired of partying and is still a circuit gay, has been one since he was like 22. He’s a fuckboy slut idk what more to say really, he’s just living his best life and I honestly love that for him. (this is very much exactly a guy I know sorry to that dude but)

any driver not mentioned is one I either didn't think of or just don't know well enough to give any kind of opinion on. Also if you need clarification for any terms pls ask and I'll explain😊

[electronickingdomfox]

"The IDIC Epidemic" review

Novel from 1988, by Jean Lorrah. Sort of a sequel to her previous book ("The Vulcan Academy Murders"), the enemy this time is a strange virus that mutates really fast, and is decimating a colony with its increasingly deadly strains. Given the origin of the virus, and its ultimate cure, the main theme is the defense of diversity (racial or cultural) over segregation and prejudices. Which is, definitely, a very Star Trek theme, though the novel also acknowledges the difficulties in such a diverse society, and how fragile it can be.

Despite what the cover would suggest, Kirk, Spock and McCoy are mere secondary characters. Most of the story focuses instead on new introductions, like the Klingon Korsal and his sons, or the Vulcan T'Pina. Healer Sorel, his associate Daniel Corrigan, and the obnoxious Sendet return from the previous book. Sarek and Amanda are also there, though their presence feels more like fanservice this time, as there's no particular reason for them to figure in the story.

As for the novel itself, I couldn't really get into it. The narrative switches perspectives continually, so I found impossible to focus long enough on one plot thread to get invested in it. And didn't find the characters all that engaging. There's simply too many things going on at the same time, and even if all the subplots revolve around the epidemic, it's quite distracting. Your mileage may vary, of course; I'm just not a fan of this technique of "multiple threads".

This time I'm just going to give an overview of the separate stories of each character, with minimal spoilers, as they progress kind of independently to each other:

On the one hand we have Korsal, the only Klingon in the scientific, multicultural colony of Nisus. He's much more of an intellectual and pacifist than your average Klingon, and faces prejudice both from his fellow scientists and his relatives back at home. His two sons are half human, on top of that, so Korsal is worried about their future and the possibility of either the Federation or the Empire accepting them. Much of his story deals with the bonding between Korsal and his older son Kevin, as they try to help against the plague and a breaking dam, which threatens to flood the entire city. Korsal and his family also prove instrumental in finding a cure (though partial) for the virus.

T'Pina is an adopted Vulcan of uncertain origin, returning now to her native Nisus after completing her studies, and hoping to do something about the crisis. As Korsal, she also turns out to be a key to defeat the virus, but much of her storyline is mired by sappy (and kind of cringe) romance. As an aside, there's something about the way this author writes relationships that rubs me the wrong way. First, Amanda's statement that there's more differences between the thinking of males and females, than between humans and Vulcans. Or Kirk getting distracted by how attractive is a Starfleet female Commander, who's actually seriously sick, and trying to explain the dire situation to him. There's also a certain obsession to get every single character married at the end: a couple of widowed Vulcans that just met (and that haven't yet overcome their grief); or even Spock, who tells his mother about the "several suitable women he met", and his intention to marry upon leaving Starfleet (sure, Spock, keep telling us about your imaginary girfriends...). I know I'm nitpicking here, but all this made me roll eyes several times.

The medical team of McCoy, Sorel and Daniel (with occasional help from Spock) is tasked with cracking the virus' pattern of mutation, and developing a vaccine. The way they find the origin and nature of the virus is interesting, with actual analytical work. Though developing a cure turns out to be rather a matter of luck, and several happy (and unlikely) coincidences.

On the villain side we have Sendet, a Vulcan supremacist, who uses the virus to justify his views against mixed races. He and the other followers of T'Vet are being transported by the Enterprise to a different colony, since their views go against Vulcan culture. They cause a lot of problems in the ship. Problems that could have been easily avoided if Kirk had just... put them in the brig the first time.

Spirk Meter: 2/10*. When Spock falls sick with the virus, Kirk feels frustrated for not being able to see him. And even though he knows his presence wouldn't change anything, he still believes that Spock could somehow draw strength from his being there.

As for Spones, Spock insists on accompanying McCoy to Nisus, against Kirk's orders, and under the pretext of the doctor needing his logic. Spock feels also protective of him, telling McCoy to be careful around the virus. And Kirk comments that Spock and McCoy are "one of a kind"; which both quickly deny, in unison. Apart from this, much emphasis is put on the idea that Vulcans leave their katra to their spouses upon dying... Which has some "implications" for Spock and McCoy's later story (though I somehow doubt the author would acknowledge the parallelism).

*A 10 in this scale is the most obvious spirk moments in TOS. Think of the back massage, "You make me believe in miracles", or "Amok Time" for example.

[hwangjins00]

Johnny Lawrence and the self-fulfilling prophecy

so i've been thinking about this for a while and also because s6p1 just came out but i think that johnny is one of the best examples of a self-fulfilling prophecy in ck.

SO we've seen multiple times that johnny's been told he ruins people, by danial, robby, shannon, and carmen, even terry. And i'm not gonna disregard his actions, i agree that he has done a lot of stuff that negatively affected himself and those around him, not limited to becoming a functioning alcoholic, teaching kids aggression, drunk fights, being an absentee father, etc

BUT we also see him try a lot of times to get his act together and do better for the people around him, such as teaching miguel mercy, cleaning up his apartment and trying to limit drinking for carmen, and trying to get along with daniel for the sake of his students, but he's still criticized even for trying his best, the only character to consistently have been on his side through his highs and lows has been miguel.

out of all the characters the one who refuses to see johnny's change the most is probably daniel, and this is NOT a daniel hate post, i love daniel and he's one of my favourite kk and ck characters but that doesn't disregard the fact that he tends to have knee-jerk reactions and gets unbalanced easily when it comes to johnny. A lot of the characterization in the show can be attributed to writing choices but i'm going to try my best to not make that my main focus.

alright lets start!

when johnny first opens up his dojo its partly because of the anger he feels towards daniel for succeeding in life but mainly because he doesn't want miguel to keep getting beat on and miguel probably reminds him of himself before he met kreese. Daniel is the one to come to johnny and tell him to close cobra kai and this is completely valid seeing as how daniel's experiences with cobra kai were in his youth, however its also been 30 years and its reasonable to assume that johnny isnt still a high school bully. He tells miguel that if he doesnt leave the dojo he'll end up 'just like' johnny. Right off the bat we have someone insinuating that johnny is a terrible role model. Then when daniel starts training robby and discovers robby's homelife he goes to talk to johnny just to immediately turn on him the second he sees kreese, he doesn't talk to johnny to clear up the situation and he doesn't tell him about his son, and yes johnny has been a shitty dad but he deserves to know that his kid is going to be living with someone else (i honestly thought it was crazy that daniel never mentioned that he had johnny's SON IN HIS HOUSE??)

when robby takes sam to johnny's apartment when she was drunk daniel literally kicked down his door and got into a physical fight with johnny because he couldn't believe that johnny was being considered a safe space for his son to bring his crush to in order to sober up and wouldn't listen to johnny rationally asking him to calm down. and S6 SPOILERS but i think that out of the two of them johnny was trying much harder to be accomodating to daniel, he gave up the name cobra kai and eagle fang for miyagi do, worked kata into his teaching and geniunely tried to not be so hard headed and quick to fight. He tried to get a job (daniel making him switch from using karate as a job was honestly crazy, that was literally how he was paying bills and putting food on the table, johnny asking to be paid for his time and effort wasnt an insane ask especially considering that daniel owns multiple dealerships and chozen comes from a rich family as well, johnny is the only one that actually needed the dojo as a way to make money) and just overall be there, im not saying hes a great dad right away but its obvious that he's trying to be there for both miguel and robby without making either one of the boys feeling forgotten. (ex, telling them both he's proud win or lose, tying robby's headband, listening to miguel's college essay)

HOWEVER, it seems that no matter what he does, johnny is almost never seen positively by anyone other than miguel and devon. daniel switches up on him instantly (he drops people at the first sight of their flaws, as soon as johnny takes even a single step backwards instead of acting rationally and looking at the situation + offering support he tells johnny he'll never change and drops him immediately, he did the same thing with robby and doing that to a teenager dependent on you for food and shelter is honestly crazy), carmen has been pretty much sidelined due to the baby (i have THOUGHTS on this), kreese is his only supporter and he was literally tripping balls and snapped hallucination johnny's neck like a stale breadstick so johnny doesnt really have much in the way of a good support system

now for those that have somehow stuck around lol lets get to the actual point (i realized here that i literally just blabbed for so long without making my point lmfao)

a self-fulfilling prophecy is essentially: you become what you are told. if i told you everyday that you will never amount to more than what you are right now, ive 'prophesied' your future and to self-fulfil it you would just stop trying because you know that nothing you do will ever change my mind.

in a similar vein i believe that deep down johnny DOES believe that no matter what he does or how hard he tries he'll never be able to move past the image of him thats already been made up in peoples minds (society for all it talks about rehabilitation does not tend to actually support those who want to rehabilitate- more thoughts below) and so he goes through a constant cycle of disappointing those around him again and again because no one believes he can be any better and he's internalized that, i honestly have soo many thoughts about johnny's character in kk1 and ck and i would love to chat with anyone interested about it

re: society and rehab

so people talk the good talk about how rehabilitation is important and necessary, in the show daniel is able to form good friendships with both chozen and mike who were arguably much worse than johnny was to him (chozen fought in a literal DEATH MATCH against him and mike harassed him, dangled him off a cliff, forced him to compete in a rigged match where he pretty much just whaled on him on the mat), why was daniel able to forgive these guys but not johnny? my theory is that its because to him chozen and mike have their lives together and have also properly apologized for their actions (JJ&H im still waiting on that johnny apology where we address the 'you're alright larusso' line) meanwhile johnny has obviously gone downhill since HS, but daniel never takes his attempts to get it together seriously and along with a lot of the toxic ideals put into him by kreese, johnny doesn't take his rehabilitation seriously either, he can't afford rehab for his alcohol dependency (plus rehab isnt viewed positively by him either) and he doesnt have a very steady support system so that makes it even more difficult. unlike daniel he's never had a positive father figure in his life which makes it difficult for him to act as a father without fear of becoming kreese, i just wish that the show would take johnny's journey to becoming the man he wants more seriously

[secretsandwritinggs]

Guess the people on Tumblr know what they want: a third parter of the saga of the random Lawrusso family headcanons!

⚠️ | Before I begin these, I’m going to warn you right now that this is going to have some dark and heavy topics such as self-harm, depression and drinking, please keep this in mind. You have been warned so don’t get upset with me if you didn’t see it coming.

After snapping to everyone, Tory didn’t talk to anyone for a couple of weeks and just cried until she fell asleep.

Tory definitely blames herself for not preventing her mother’s death and not doing a better job.

Sam asks Johnny if both Tory and Brandon can come and stay with them instead of staying in their apartment.

He said they can, so she went over to Tory’s apartment to pick her up and found her almost blacked out while Brandon was in his bedroom coloring.

Johnny (with Daniel’s assistance) helps Tory with the frustration she has with her mother’s death.

Everyone in the family, except Tory, told Brandon what happened to his mother; it was too much for her to tell him, plus it was difficult to look him in the face at the same time.

Sam and Johnny went to check her later to see her disassembling a razor that they snatched from her hands and made sure she could tell them anything and they will understand.

She just trembled and shook as she began to cry when both Johnny and Sam joined her on the floor. Sam just hugged her tight as she cried and apologized for trying to hurt herself.

Sam suggested that she wash herself a bit before dinner, while she was washing, she almost made a hole in the bathroom wall by punching at it multiple times.

Sam went back to the bathroom so that she wouldn’t hurt himself or try to hurt herself eventually, getting into the bathtub with her (she’s in a bathing suit. she is not naked) and gently washed Tory while the two sat in silence.

Robby and Anthony have bonded really well with Brandon and have helped him to feel better after the news of his mother.

Tory by Sam and Johnny’s suggestion had decided to open up a little more, but she is taking it slow and with ease, although Brandon needs more time before he says something to these people he just met.

There are times when Tory spirals sometimes when she didn’t eat or shower or do much of anything for weeks on end and Sam is helping her to overcome it.

We are leaving the angst behind, now we are moving towards the fluff and soft bits. ☺️💖

Sam had braided Tory‘s hair a handful of times and Tory would keep the braid in for a couple days before removing it so Sam could do it again.

Robby finally realizes how close Sam and Tory are and exclaimed how surprised he was to see that they’re not killing each other with Miguel.

Miguel is just happy that Tory and Sam are finally getting get along well, although it scares Robby a bit because of how well they actually can and apparently they have a lot in common which they didn’t realize before.

Sam started teaching Tory Italian and Sam applauds her when she did well and Tory gets excited when she does.

Johnny had moved Tory and Brandon’s things to the Lawrusso’s house so that they wouldn’t have to walk there every day and they had become official members of the family.

They received their house keys from Robby who got pulled into a group hug with everyone.

Sam with Tory’s permission removed herself as a tenant at the apartment complex and officially moved her out although, Tory’s landlord wasn’t happy about the idea of her moving.

Sam and Amanda had went shopping with Tory so she could decorate her new room on the same day Robby, Anthony, Daniel, Johnny were taking Brandon for his new room.

Tory is more of minimal person when it comes to decorating her room while Brandon is more of maximal type of person.

Tory, who moved into Anthony’s old room, now shares a jack-and-jill bathroom with Sam.

Sam also tends after Tory and Brandon’s hair treatment also braids her hair most of the time.

Sam is not the only assigned cleaner of the house since now that she gets help from Tory occasionally Robby or Brandon.

Sam and Tory interchange clothes sometimes.

Sam bought a perfume that reminds Tory of her mother and gifted to her on Christmas.

The house is divided on what’s everyone’s favorite drink: Root Beer or Dr. Pepper, it’s 50/50

It’s the same thing for apple and orange juice

Tory sleeps in Sam’s bed whenever she’s have a night terrors, nightmares of her mother, or when she can’t sleep at all.

Tory had been added to the group and she wasn’t prepared for the madness that’s about to insure when reading the chat.

Robby and Anthony still steal chocolate out of Sam’s chocolate bowl now Tory does it too.

Parts in order: one , two , three

[kinja145]

The evil has been defeated ; the french translation of DLTD is complete !!!!!!!

It has been almost 9 years since I started it. I was in my first year of highschool when I started, I've gratuated, I went to university for 3 years, graduated again, and now I'm working. It has been a long, long thing to do. I did it with passion, but sometimes I feel like I wasn't as much implicated in the translation of some chapters compared to others, but I still loved it from start to end. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to stay so implicated and how I didn't just abandon the project ! But at the end, DLTD is always somehwere in my thoughts, I just can't escape it lol DLTD is a story, a fandom, I can't quite seem to leave. I've been way less into it these past few years, but everytime I came back to it, it felt like home and it still does. I think I've felt almost every emotion with DLTD, and I'm not just talking about the first part, but DLTD as a whole. I don't have the words to drescribe how much this story means to me, how it changed my brain chemistry.

I know the story isn't perfect, God knows I can tell that. But I just accept it with its flaws and kind of cringe parts that are so reminiscent of 2010s ! Without DLTD there is no drawings from me, or at least less, and probably not so much progression. So DLTD saved my imagination in a way, even tho time and energy is missing now that I'm working but I still love to draw for it. Thinking back on those 8 years, I'm amazed to see how obsessed I was with it. I did a comic adaptation of the first chapter, an ending, a parody I never finished with Daniel, dozens of fanart, a discord (that didn't really work but it's still out there !). I met lot of people, including my beta reader YuuKyun whom I haven't heard from for almost 3-4 years now. I really, really hope she is okay and will reappear someday. Big kudos to her, she was so helpful in the early years ! This translation wouldn't exist without @burakkuenjeru19. She is the reason I even started translating it. So kudos to her. She also listened to me yapping about DLTD for all those years, and yapped back so yeah, really kudos. This story has literally marked me. Even today, we still quote the lizard in the toaster from chapter 2 with my friends (iconic !), and more parts of the story. We had so so much fun reading the story together, giving each other a character to voice. We did it again a few weeks ago for old time sake, and it was still so wholesome !! The chapters aren't all out right now, but I'll start posting one chapter per day in december. Wich makes me think ; ever since 2016, I've always had at least 10 chapters of advance on the publication. I think I can take pride in that uwu As for DLTP, I don't know for now if I'll get to it. It's just a whole lot of work, way more than the first part. But I feel like I'll miss it so maybe there's a world where I start the translation of it too. I'm just not making any promesses !

And to end this post, I have to thanks the one and only : @hateweasel

I don't even know what to say to thank you, Hate. You brought to me and to many more people so much with your story and your imagination. Your interest for the surnatural stuck with me and you put it so well into the story, I just love the fact that you don't represent surnaturals as monsters. Yeah, they're people too. I just love this concept !!

I was so, so scared the first time I sent you a message here to ask the permission to post the translation. I think I read my message like 10 times to make sure that there wasn't any mistakes... And then, you helped me tons of time with words, sentences, and parts I didn't get. And you let me have so much liberty with the adaptation of the story in my language, it was really, really great from you, thank you !!

We started talking a lot at some point even with jet lag, and it was really great even tho we had multiple conversation at the same time lol

You made me discover a lot of things outside of DLTD with your blog too, and I'm thankfull for that too.

I just can't thank you enough, and I think everyone else who has read and loved DLTD can say the same. Thank you again, Hate (especially if you read all that) !!!

I'm going to keep on posting the last chapters, and then post drawings here and there I guess, now. Until then, farewell duckies !!

[dont-justdont]

here is a list of things that i so wish would happen in s2 of iwtv but im not really sure they will (im manisfesting it into being, sue me) :

- the europe trip before louis and claudia come to paris. i absolutely love that part of the book because in canon, louis and claudia do not know whether or not other vampires exist, and there's this desperation of are we alone in this world and can we go on knowing that? except in the show 1) claudia has already met killer so they know they're not alone so that desperation is not as palpable and 2) with everything that went down last episode and with rashid being armand i feel like it would drag things and not fit as well in the story to spend a whole episode before paris both for the viewers but in the perspective of story telling as a whole

- this does not happen in the books but just imagine : claudia and louis come into armand's rooms for the first time, louis is enamored with armand but claudia is looking around and armand has all these gothic horror looking things around including a pair of hands that kind of look like a statue but are also too gruesome and look too real to be made of rock and armand just says something along the lines of "you know how violinists can be" and changes the subject but i just want, no i need armand to have nicki's hands as a decoration somewhere i feel like he would definitely do that and it would just be a nice easter egg to put in the show (please mr producer please)

- lestat clutching claudia's dress in the theater after she dies and louis seeing him. THE DRAMA is just unbelievable and i absolutely love that scene, it's one of the things im mad they didnt include in the movie and i just hope with all my little heart they will include in the series. just imagine: feral louis who just got buried alive, armand in the back SATISFIED WITH HIMSELF (he is so manipulative i love him) and lestat just small and weak clutching a piece of claudia's dress while louis is both relieved but also terribly mad at lestat for being alive and just???? i love the entirety of this please make it come to life

- daniel fucking malloy requestioning the veracity of the entire story and just him being like was it raining louis?!? everytime louis speaks. i mean this is obviously going to happen but im so ready for it

- additionally, armand questioning daniel (cue devils minion? please pretty pretty please mr producer?) about the last years because i am convinced devils minion happened after the first interview but daniel doesnt remember/doesnt want to remember and i just NEED armand to torture him with that (not literally, or literally as well im not picky) and i need to see them together please

- lestat being seen through armand's perspective. now hear me out : sam has said multiple times that while he was playing lestat, he was playing him through louis' perspective of him, and he'd go like "nope that's not what happened" and bla bla bla. except now we get narrator!armand so im asking the question (and praying we get the answer) : what does lestat look like from armand's perspective? how does he act and how does that version of lestat contrast with louis'? DO THEY SEE THE CONTRADICTIONS BETWEEN THEMSELVES AND FREAK OUT ABOUT IT?!? (because i will) daniel you better call out their bullshit or i am coming for you

this is already a long post so ill leave this as is for now but i might (will) come back with more eventually, please tell me your hopes for s2 i cant wait!!!

[karmavongrim]

Hero's Rise fanfic idea

Not much of an idea but an actual story about Danny's new life in the Pokémon world.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1

All anybody needs is a second chance

Why is the world so unfair? It wasn’t fair! All it took was just one simple mistake. A mistake that any teenager could’ve made and yet when he does it, the entire world is put in peril. A mistake that his family had to pay the ultimate price for.

These are the thoughts of an injured teen kneeling in a crater of his latest fight with the most terrifying foe he has ever met. That day had started like any other, a teen worrying about an important exam that could effect his future. He’d thought of even just winging the whole test since he never got enough time to study thanks to his secret hero duties keeping him occupied even at nighttime, if not for the test answers he had picked up from the ground that was accidentally left behind by his English teacher. If only he would’ve known that his decision to cheat would cause for the literal apocalypse to happen then he would have never even considered doing such a thing.

No, that wasn’t true, he knew that this would be the outcome yet he still did it thanks to his stupid teen impulses. The master and lord of time himself had warned him personally of this but he still didn’t listen. And now he has nothing.

The scrawny fourteen year old stares blackly at the hellish inferno that had consumed all the ones he cared about along with a fast food restaurant they had been held captive in by his evil future self. His glazed eyes turn to a silver thermos that now housed said monster. He can’t bring himself to care that his baggy t-shirt and jeans are in shreds, and covered in blood and dirt. Nothing mattered to him anymore.

In a distance the blaring sound of multiple sirens can be heard even through the sound of roaring fire around him. So lost in thoughts he’s that he didn’t notice the world around him going deathly still and quit, nor the wisp of gold air escaping past his pale split lips. Not until a familiar, deep voice gently calls out to him.

“Danny.”

Danny blinks for what feels like the first time in a good while as he’s trying to process what was said to him and by whom. He didn’t move from his spot on the ground when a blue-skinned ghost moves in front of him, his purple cloak flowing along. His form ever shifting between that of a child, an adult and an old man, never staying as one for long. Seeing the ghost he can’t stop tears from rolling down his face as he demands.

“Why didn’t you stop this Clockwork?”

When the ever age shifting ghost says nothing he becomes angry.

“You are the master of time aren’t you? Can’t you just turn back time and let me fix my mistake?”

Clockwork regards the distraught boy silently for a moment.

“I won’t nor can do that Daniel, for multitude of reasons. You also seem to have misunderstood some things regarding me. I do not rule over time, I manage it. My duty is to take care of it, not to bend it to my will and do whatever I please with it. If I were to meddle more than I already have the consequences could be catastrophic. This was the most optimal outcome.” He calmly explains. The ageless being truly wishes that it wouldn’t have come to this, but he had no other choice. He had his limits and rules in place for a reason. This of course doesn’t sit well with the boy.

“O-Optimal outcome? Optimal outcome!” He screams with his hoarse voice. Danny was absolutely livid hearing that. He lets go of the thermos shaped capture device and wobbly lifts himself up.

“You are saying all this like it’s nothing! Like we are nothing more then pieces on a game board that can be thrown away!” He screams more as he unsteadily lunges himself at the ancient ghost who does nothing to stop the weak assault.

“Why did they have to pay the price for my stupid decision? Just take me instead!” He begs but Clockwork’s unmoved, so Danny continues to throw punches, ignoring how heavy and in pain his arms feel.

“You are the master of time! Just turn back time and let me fix this!” He begs again and still only silence greets him, so he doesn’t stop.

“Please! If they are taken away from me I’ll have nothing left worth living for. If you can’t bring them back then take me as well!” Third time he begs and bargains, and again nothing.

Danny collapses on to the elder who wraps his gloved arms to keep him from falling while being careful with his clock staff. With no more rage, all that is left was absolute sorrow and misery belonging to an orphaned child.

“P-Please bring them back. Please. I-I beg you, I’ll do anything.” He tries to beg feebly one last time as he lifts his head to look into Clockwork’s solid red eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Was the resolute answer he gets that shattering any illusions of this all being just a messed up dream or a sick joke.

That’s it then, he’s lost everything and there’s nothing he can do about it. Maybe his parents were right about Danny Phantom being a monster, they weren’t that far from truth looking at the destruction that Dan had caused… It would be better for everybody if he were to just-

“Don’t.” Clockwork’s stern voice rouses him from his spiraling dark thoughts, who’s looking at him with equally stern gaze.

“Do not think that taking your own life would atone anything. You must keep on living Daniel, for your family’s sake at least if not yours. Stay alive so that their memories may live on as well with you. They would want that and you know this too deep inside.”

Even though his speech ends in softer note it still stings a lot. He’s the cause of all of this so it would be only fair that he pays the price as well. But there seemes to be no way fighting the powerful ghost of time on this, no matter how hard he tries. Danny slumps further into Clockwork’s firm embrace as if it would help him somehow to escape the cruel reality.

Clockwork would let the boy get his bearings but this isn’t the place nor time for it. He shifts his free hand to soothe the messy black mop of hair as he continues.

“Unfortunately I can’t let you stay here. The future only holds terrible things for all if you do.”

Danny squeezes his eyes shut as he grits his teeth; even if Clockwork didn’t say it outright he knows what he means. What is he suppose to do then? There’s no going back and fixing this, nor is he apparently allowed to end his own misery. The only thing he can think of is to ask the one who knows everything.

“…What should I do?”

Clockwork lifts his staff as he suggests.

“Come with me and you’ll find out.”

Danny doesn’t think too long since he has nothing else to do or place to go. If he stays then he would be just put in foster care or adoption since he’s still a minor, and would end up with Vlad one way or another. Once felt connection to this town seemed to have shatter into pieces when his loved ones perished. He has nothing left to keep him there, so at a complete loss he agrees.

“A-Alright.” He mutters and takes the offered hand.

At his consent they are both along with the thermos transported away with a single wave of a staff, never to been seen by that world ever again.

Danny only opens his eyes when the feeling of momentary weightlessness ceases and he’s gently pried off by the older ghost. He is led to a purple bed of what seem to be a guest room from lack of personal touches in it. Once he’s made comfortable Clockwork doesn’t waste time in explaining.

“Like I said before, you can’t stay here. But there’s another way. I happen to have acquaintances who would be willing to foster you, the only catch being that they live very far, far away.” Danny’s getting a sinking feeling about where this is going so he has to ask.

“How far exactly?”

Clockwork stops, seemingly to give the boy a second to prepare himself before answering.

“In another world, in another reality.” He tells him truthfully. This gets a reaction out of the teen.

“What! W-Why so far away? What about my-” He stops himself from finishing that sentence. Tears once again start to gather and fall with earnest. What about his family. They are gone for good and he wouldn’t be able to live in Amity Park without constantly being reminded of his failures. Clockwork places a firm hand on the skinny shoulder to draw his attention away from his spiraling thoughts again. He hates the soft look directed at him. He doesn’t deserve it.

“This is why you can’t stay and why I’m offering you this opportunity, to heal and give you a second change at life, to move on.”

Danny shook his head violently. No, he doesn’t deserve any of this.

“H-how can I just move on from this!? From them! There’s no way- It’s just not right!”

He doesn’t deserve help. He doesn’t want it! He can’t continue on with his life when the others lost theirs. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

“I didn’t say that you should forget about them, but to accept that this is the unfortunate reality. The pain never goes away, it merely becomes easier to deal with in due time if you let yourself heal by at least attempting to forgive yourself. What do you think your loved ones would say to you right now? Samantha, Tucker and Jasmine? Your parents? Would they want to see you in this state?”

Danny winces and glares hard at the elder. He has no business to use his family against him like that! But now that the idea’s been planted, he wasn’t able to think anything else. What would they say?

He can definitely see Jazz and Sam scolding him for being an idiot, for ever thinking that they’d blame him, that they knew what they were getting themselves into. Tucker would reassure him that he wouldn’t forget them even if he found a new meaning to his life. Hell, he would even offer some ridiculous ideas to try out in the new world, like pick up some alien girls. He liked to think that his parents would wish the best of luck and happiness, to show the world what Fentons are made of.

He let his tears fall freely. The last thing he wants to do was to dishonor the ones he loved the most. He won’t do it, he’ll make sure their memories would live on, brighter than ever. He doesn’t want to disappoint them no matter what, even if it still left a sour taste on his tongue. Was he really allowed to move on with out them?

Clockwork decides it would be a good time to leave the boy to mourn in peace, yet he can’t help but lament quietly as he floats out of the bedroom.

“Oh Daniel, you think that you still have to pay for what had happened. Those who have passed have no need for tears, you’ll only end up drowning yourself in them. I truly hope that this will help you find peace of mind someday.”

The Observants have always told him that he cares to much for the young halfa, and every time he denies them even though he knows that they are correct much to his dismay. He’s cared for the boy even before he was born. He can see all of time: past, present, and future. All of it’s endless twists and turns. And out of all of them he enjoyed Danny’s the most. The person who said that time doesn’t have favorites was a liar.

Clockwork glides through the finding halls and corridors of his clock tower till he arrives at his destination. His viewing room, filled with screens, mirrors and cogs that hold within images of old and new, as well as those yet to come to pass or never will. He moves deeper and deeper till he came to a simple silver mirror, so unassuming and hidden away from any unwanted eyes.

Lifting his staff he gently taps it’s surface. It ripples like a calm lake disturbed and white figure manifestes in it.

A white equine like creature accented with gold, radiated majesty and power. Emerald crusted ring of gold attached to its abdomen outshines any crown a king could wear. It’s red and green eyes seem to glow when it notices the time master who has contacted it. And with a mighty voice they spoke.

“Clockwork, it has been ages since we hast last spoken. How hast thou been, those Eyeballs still causing trouble for thee?”

Clockwork lets himself chuckle, trust his friend to take a stab at his ‘coworkers’ just to make him laugh. Not that he’s any better.

“Well met Arceus, my old friend. As nice as it would’ve been for me to have only called you for pleasantries, we’re here to discuss some business.”

He leans on his staff as his friend could only sigh.

“We had a feeling this was so. Thou rarely contact us for any reason other.” Arceus laments and bores a tired glare at the cloaked man who in turn shrugs rather unapologetically.

“What is’t, now that thou summon us?” He asks in almost bored tone.

“I’m calling for the old dept.”

Clockwork states simply. Or it would have sounded simple to anyone else, but Arceus stills as their eyes blow wide open before they narrow in suspicion.

“What hast thou gotten into for thou to arriveth and claim due.” They demand and watch when with a wave of a staff, a hand mirror appears on the other’s unoccupied hand. They lean in for a closer look as a visage of an adolescent boy with midnight black hair becomes visable. This was not what they had expected.

“We fail to understand what thou crave us to try, other than it most like hath to try with thy human child.” They inquire in hesitant interest. This was Clockwork they were dealing with and should never be underestimated.

“He’s a child who’s been dealt an unnecessarily cruel hand in both life and death. He just a moment ago witnessed the loss of his friend and loved ones in the hands of his ultimate enemy.” He tells this as he looks at the image.

“E’en if that is the case, why hie so far for this one single being? There are many others whom suffer the like fate as him, if not worse. Time favors none, doth it not?” Arceus keeps questioning. It doesn’t make sense since they’ve seen countless beings succumb to many fates both good, bad and horrid. What is so different about this one?

“This world holds nothing but sadness and pain for him. In another timeline things would have gone so much more differently and he would have had his happy ending, but this timeline is unfortunately not it. He will never truly recover if he stays here were everything reminds him of his ‘failure’; he’ll keep dwelling deeper in his misery till it drives him over the edge. A change of scenery is what he desperately needs, so I’m finally asking for the favor that you own me. My request is that you take this child and allow him to build a new life for himself in your world.”

They hear and see the clear care their old friend holds for the child but they needs to remind him of the weight of what he’s asking of them.

“This is no bawbling crave Clockwork.” They press.

Clockwork fiddles idle with the clock that is embedded on top of his trusty staff as he conversationally mentions.

“Just like it wasn’t a small act I committed back then for you.”

He lifts his red eyes back at them, challenging the other to try and back down. Arceus knows a losing battle when they see one, besides they do own him big time. There’s nothing else for him to do than continue onward in valiant defeat.

“What is the name of this child?” They ask as they turn back to look at their future charge. The victorious smugness emanating from the other side of the mirror nearly causes them to roll their eyes.

“His name is Daniel Fenton but goes by his moniker Danny or Phantom depending on his current form. A bright young lad when given the chance, even if his grades might have taken a plunge due to his hero work.” Clockwork informs them.

Arceus watches in keen interest as they’re shown many of the boy’s ventures through the small looking-glass. They can’t help but laugh when he realizes how Clockwork sounds like when he talks about the boy, causing said ghost to raise his brown at him.

“And hither we thought thee were suppose to be impartial to all’s… Regarding the favor, all preparations shall be done ‘i no time.” They both discreetly snorted at the pun.

“We are content to receive him whenever seen meetest.”

Clockwork’s shoulders slump ever so slightly as he gives a grateful smile, which quickly turns to his usual smirk.

“Excellent, I won’t be holding you any longer then. Besides I need to prepare young Daniel for his departure, as well as some ‘guests’ to entertain when they finally decide to arrive.” He purrs but before the call was ends Arceus gives a final warning to their old friend.

“We hope that this doth not end poorly. If it doth, thy shall bear the consequence.”

At this threat the ghost only laughs.

“No need for worry. Knowing my Daniel he will do more good then harm. But then again, I know everything.” And with that final farewell the mirror returns back to its unassuming state. Clockwork creates a duplicate of himself and sends him away while making his way back to Danny.

Arriving at the bedroom door he knocks out of courtesy on it before entering to see the poor boy lying face down on the bed. Softly floating to the bedside he tentatively begins to pet his grimy hair. Danny stirs slightly but made no move to get away or to stop the hand on his head. Instead he starts to hiccup and tries to smother his sobs on the duvet.

“I’ll never see them again.” He cries.

Clockwork continues his petting as he lets the boy release his emotions.

“They’re never coming back.” He cries more and all the elder can do at the moment was to offer comfort.

“I’m sorry.” He says as sincerely as he can. He would’ve felt regret over the whole situation if he didn’t know that this needed to happen. It still doesn’t stop his core from breaking a little when he hears him say in such a small voice.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

Lifting his hand from the dirty hair he moves to shift it away from the boy’s face to reveal pair of red puffy eyes looking at him in complete loss.

“You won’t be for long. Here, lets get you cleaned up a bit and you can go back to rest a little while longer.”

Not having energy to argue he’s helped up from the soft bed and into a Victorian style bathroom. Clockwork helps him all through out the whole process of undressing and bathing since Danny doesn’t want to do much of anything in his current state. Being gentle with all the injuries, he’s placed into a tub and washed till water comes out clean. Helping Danny up once again he ignores the grimy rags that were the boy’s old clothes laying on the floor as he moves them both back to the bedroom where a set of new identical looking garments rest on the bed along with a black and white duffel back with Phantom’s logo on it. Danny, who’s bundled up in light purple towel, shows only slight interest in the assorted items before going back to being docile dead weight. He doesn’t react much either to being once again manhandled and laid back down to rest on the soft mattress. His eyes already closing shut when he was being tucked in.

Clockwork takes a second to look at the now peaceful form slumbering away, he deems him well enough to be left alone for the time being. After shutting the lights and closing the bedroom door behind him, he leaves to continue his many tasks still left unfinished.

It takes a good while for Danny to wake up and when he does, he’s feeling completely sore and tired. He looks around to see the familiar room and tears began to fall again.

It wasn’t just a nightmare then. They were really gone forever now. His talk with Clockwork plays around in his head, about how he should keep on living. But he doesn’t think he deserves a new chance, not that he had been given any other choice. He was going to be dragged towards a “new life” kicking and screaming anyway so what’s the point in even trying to fight back. What was there to fight back for?

Rolling his head to its side he was faced with the duffel bag he vaguely remembers seeing before going to sleep. And since it has his logo on it he could only assume that it was meant for him. He rolls to his other side and tries to ignores it to best of his ability. Few moments pass as he tosses around in frustration before he lets his curiosity win.

“Whatever.” He sighs and moves to sit and drags the full bag in closer to him.

Hesitating for a second, he grips the pull tightly and opens it. He only sees a glimpse of what’s inside but it’s enough for his world to come to a complete stop again. His hands start to shake uncontrollably as he carefully, oh so carefully pushed the opening wider to see if his mind was playing tricks on him. Only when his trembling fingers caress the items revealed inside does he believe them to be real and there with him.

Inside are meticulously placed items belonging to all his lost loved ones. He reverently takes them all out and spreads them neatly in front of him.

His mom’s red goggles glisten along with his dad’s favorite fudge spoon which sit right next to a giant pair of black gloves also belonging to his dad. To the right is his sister’s well loved teddy bear nicknamed Bearbert Einstein, which thankfully hasn’t gained anymore tears. Even his little lab coat was still on. Next is Sam’s much sought-after combat boots she swore to wear when she’d grown enough to wear them properly and beside them are Tucker’s trusted PDA and signature red beret which he owned multiple of. There are even two of his own favorite items from his room; a red toy model rocket from his childhood and vintage collector’s poster of Apollo 13. All the other irrelevant items such as the Fenton thermos, wrist ray, Fenton phones, Boo-merang and Fenton rod, some extra clothes and a memory stick he left inside the bag.

He places both of his hands to his mouth as he tried fruitlessly stifle a sob. Clockwork must have gathered all of them for him, and he would be forever grateful for it.

He takes his dad’s oversized gloves and fastened them on his much smaller hands. Mom’s goggles now hanged around his neck as he situates Tucker’s beret backwards on his head, and after putting on Sam’s boots he gently lifts Mr. Bearbert to look into his one remaining little eye. Hugging the bear tightly, he curls into a ball and he manages to catch a whiff of a painfully familiar sweet scent. It still smells like Jazz’s cheap candy perfume. He no longer hold back on his cries as he’s surrounded by the only things he still has left of his shattered life.

He didn’t know how long he had cried before he felt a hand landing on his shoulder. He only looked up at the new arrival when then hand squeezed in lieu of trying to get his attention. It’s Clockwork who’s gazing down softly at him.

“I thought you might appreciate to have some mementos of them to take with you.” He explains. Danny can only nod in utmost thanks, not trusting his voice to work at the moment.

He can feel his eyes starting to moisten up again but no more tears are left for him to cry. The hand on his shoulder continues to sooth him as he gathers himself up to sit, still clutching on to his sister’s bear for support. He’s offered a napkin to dry of his now wet face.

“I suggest that you pack your bag back up; it is time to leave.” The ghost encourages him and moves to stand by the bed’s side.

“Already?” He asks and winces at how his voice comes out. Clockwork nods.

“Unfortunately. Now come, I’ll help you if you need me to.” He says and gestures at the bag. Danny didn’t want to put away the items just yet and seeing how he’s hesitating the ghost continues to reason.

“The road to you destination is a turbulent one, it will be much safer to put them away for the time being and you can always take them out afterwards.”

He thinks about it only a second before caving in; he doesn’t want to loose any more things dear to him just because of his stubbornness. Carefully, one by one he takes the precious items and puts them away to safety of his duffel before zipping it up. Clockwork opens the door and gestures for him to follow which he dutifully does along with his bag.

Their walk is silent for the most part, not that he minds too much, it leaves him time to look at all the cogs, clocks and other glowing green metallic structures that litter the place. Makes sense considering who the owner is.

It’s probably because of Clockworks own influence or because their destination was that close by that they arrived to their stop faster than he thought it would take, and to his surprise and dread the room they enter was the viewing room he and his friends had broken into. The guilt that immediately starts to twist his guts make him look down at the ground and keeping his eyes only on the end of his guider’s cloak. He’s so focused on not seeing anything on the screens and mirrors that he pumps into Clockwork when he stops them at the very end of the cluttered room. Finally daring to look up he sees in front of them on it’s lonesome, is a person sized clouded mirror with ornate frame hanging on the wall, with stone steps leading up to it.

Clockwork turns to him and speaks as he gestures it.

“This gateway will take you to your the new world which hopefully you’ll learn to love and call home one day. There are things in that world that are similar to ours, but also things that you’ve never even imagined. Don’t worry, your new caretakers will share more information with you once there.”

He places his hand on his back and guides the hesitant teen up the stairs to his uncertain future. He pauses in front of the mirror and now that he stands so close to it, he can see that the glass isn’t exactly clouded but seems to have actual moving clouds trapped on the other side of it. He thoughtfully looks at it then at Clockwork.

“Will I ever see you again?” He asks after a moment of hesitation. The elder tilts his head to the side as if thinking before smiling enigmatically.

“Only time will tell young Daniel.” He simply states which almost makes Danny snort, but his slightly better mood is snuffed out when a promising grin takes over his aging face.

“Good luck.”

With this he pushes the fumbling teen into the mirror who embraces for collision but is shocked when he passes through the glass and keeps on falling. He screams.

Clockwork watches impassively as his short time charge leaves this world and into a new one. He glances at nearby mirror to see Fenton Works blow up to smithereens, leaving nothing to the unscrupulous vultures that would have used this tragedy to their advantage. Someone must’ve forgotten to change the Ecto-Filtrator, how unfortunate.

He silently counts down till the door to his work room slams open and three very loud creatures whom have once again barged into his domain uninvited, decide to make tier unhappiness known.

“You must have thought it really funny to leave us in a time loop at your front door!”

His lips twitch minutely as he regards them dully.

“Who knows, and did you really need to take out your frustration on my poor door.”

The trio float closer, all of them wearing identical white robes and black collard cloaks decorated with gold. Their heads were nothing more then a giant eyeball with no necks. Middle one closes in and points its sharp-nailed finger at him as it narrows its one eye.

“Were not here to play games, Time Keeper. Were here because of that hybrid you seem to favor.”

He raises an eyebrow and tightens his hold on the staff. The being notices this and wisely moves back to stand with his peers. Satisfied he turnes to look back at the many screens that kept switching from view to view.

“You won’t have to worry about him. He’s long gone.” He provides, which certainly caught their interest.

“He is? For good?” Third one askes, sounding a bit too exited.

“And he won’t be a problem in the future?” Second one askes more apprehensively.

“Yes. I trust you are satisfied now.” He near spits at the unwanted company standing behind him. Dressed in fine robes they look more like noblemen than officials, which irks Clockwork to no end. So high and mighty, it made him want to defenestrate a good few of them if it weren’t for the fact that they were needed in this anarchist paradise of a dimention.

“Where did you send him anyway Clockwork?” Pries one of them. He merely shrugs in response.

“That is none of your concern since he won’t be coming back. Now, care to observe the door. And don’t let it hit you on your way out.” He motions carelessly behind him at the exit.

As they turn to leave with indignant huffs, they do not notice the mysterious smile stretching on the time ghost’s face.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐧

series summary: Two years had passed since your break up with Jack, a fellow Statesmen agent. But everything re-ignites again when Champ asks you to go San Francisco to investigate the disappearance of multiple women across the country and, sadly enough, agent Malibu. While doing anything with Jack is chaos enough, you also run in to another ex, a man that actually showed you kindness and someone you thought you could spend the rest of your days with that is until he started asking too many questions about your job, Frankie Morales.

pairing(s): jack daniels x fem!reader, past frankie morales x fem!reader, eventual (+endgame pairing) jack daniels x fem!reader x frankie morales

chapter summary: The story of how you and Frankie met. In present day Jack brings his car to the garage Frankie works at.

word count: 7.1k

chapter warnings: use of weed, alcohol consumption, getting high with frankie morales, high sex, piv sex, reader talking about her break up with jack, self-destructive tendencies (reader), mild exhibitionism, dirty talking, creampie, mention of reader being on the pill, statesmen agent!reader, brief mention of frankie's cocain addiction, reader heavily relying on weed and alcohol for comfort frankie trying to help

a/n: and here we are once again! thank you to all those who were patient with me and supported this series despite it being months, I love you all and enjoy! xx

Masterlist  | Series Masterlist | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

It was a hot day when he met you. 

After his license was taken away, and after the… unfortunate events Santi had dragged him into, Frankie had decided to dedicate himself to volunteer work—volunteer work that specifically included animals. He knew someone, someone way back, named Maria and Maria worked at the local animal shelter. Frankie gave her a call and the next day he was learning the ropes of what they did. 

Initially, Frankie thought he would be visiting once a week—but there was a lot that needed to be done and he wasn’t above getting his hands dirty for the sake of the poor animals who were abandoned. Every morning he had a habit of greeting all the dogs. It was a bittersweet experience. He loved seeing how excited they got, but he also became heartbroken when he saw the dogs that had lost all hope. They would just sit in their cages, head bowed down, only their eyes moving when Frankie came in to clean their living spaces. He felt a special bond between him and them. 

He fixed all the cages the first week, he asked for pillows, for new water bowls. Frankie became a loud protestor of mistreated animals. In the end it made him feel selfish. He wasn’t doing much, but even that little bit of effort made his heart feel lighter after all the shit he’d done. It made him feel good. 

Frankie practically begged Will and Benny to adopt a dog, a black old terrier that deserved a happy home. Frankie would be the first to admit that the small dog wasn’t really Will and Benny’s style, but he asked them anyway. Much to his gratitude, the brothers said yes. 

He thought of Pope, but he was still traveling way too frequently, meaning that he wasn’t the best person to adopt an animal. 

That’s how his days went. Most of his time was spent at the shelter, the rest of his time was dedicated to getting his license back. And of course, he had to work, which he did at the neighborhood car repair shop. The pay wasn’t much but it was decent. Enough for him to buy food. 

He was filling the water bowls when you came in. His shirt stuck to his skin, his back damp and dark in color with sweat. You looked around nervously. 

“Hello there, you looking to adopt?” 

You looked away, biting your bottom lip. Frankie noticed your swollen eyes, your running nose. Raising an eyebrow, he cocked his head to the side—you were crying. 

“Hi,” you chirped, albeit anxiously. “Sorry, I don’t really know what I’m doing here. My friend told me to get out and I didn’t really wanna see anyone so I ended up coming here.” 

“That’s okay,” he answered with a sudden sense to comfort you. His fingers twitched, the need to place a hand over your shoulder overwhelming. He pushed those thoughts aside. “We can look around. I have time, and the dogs always get excited to see new people,” 

“That makes me sad since I can’t take any of them home,” you mutter, finally lifting your gaze and looking at him for the first time. “Can I help with anything? You have volunteers right?” 

“We sure do,” he nodded, smiling. “And we never say no to some extra spare hands. I don’t really have anything specific in mind so let me show you around first. Does that sound good?” 

“Sure. Sounds great.” 

Frankie led the way, walking slowly to give you a chance to take in everything around you. You seemed to be trying your best to stay calm by wrapping your arms around your frame. Again, his need to offer comfort overwhelmed him. He’s not one to place his nose into things that didn’t concern him, but in a way, he could relate to your need to both go out and heal—but also wanting to stay away from people. He understood that. 

"Here are the dog kennels," Frankie said, pointing to a row of cages that housed dogs of all sizes and breeds. "We try to make them as comfortable as possible, but they're still waiting for their forever homes."

“Do people often adopt?” 

“It’s more common now, thankfully,” he grumbles, anger twisting in his stomach. “But  people still want “pure breeds” which is a load of shit if you ask me. There are also the people who adopt but can’t handle the responsibility and bring them back which is—” bitter laughter dropped from his lips. “I wouldn’t really describe myself as a temperamental person but some people I swear to god,” 

“Must be frustrating.” 

“It is.” 

His answer had come from a place of slight shock. Frankie was used to people being more…emphatic. He was used to the “awwws” and the sad “ohhhs” coming from the people who visited. But instead of that, or remarking on how cruel humanity was (which was another answer he frequently got), you just stated a fact. You just pointed out the obvious. Which was slightly unnerving since that obvious thing was what he was feeling. 

The dogs barked and jumped up at the sound of voices, wagging their tails. Frankie stopped to pat a few of them on the head, and he watched you smile as you got closer to the cages, patting a mix between a greyhound and a husky. 

“So loving,” you murmured, fascinated. “One of his eyes is blue.” 

“He’s a husky mix, his name is Thor—well, I call him Thor.” 

“Marvel fan?” 

“Nah, it just felt fitting.” 

Moving on, Frankie continued to talk about the shelter and its operations. He told you about how they rely on donations and volunteers to keep running, and how they work to rehabilitate animals who have been abused or neglected. He hoped to keep his voice gentle and soothing, and he was pleased that you slowly started to open up.

"Are you here full time?” you asked suddenly, taking him by surprise. 

“I wish but no.”

“Work?”

He nodded, “Work.” 

It was odd talking to you. It almost felt like you couldn’t speak in full sentences. It was clear to him that you were in some kind of emotional turmoil—something he noticed not because of his killer observation skills but due to the fact the whites of your eyes were red. He wondered what kind of person you were without whatever it was that was weighing you down. 

He wondered what your smile might look like. 

Frankie didn't ask what you did in your spare time, which would be a natural way to continue the conversation, instead, he showed you the rest of the shelter. He showed you the cats lounging in their cages, the birds chirping in their aviary, and even some rabbits hopping around in a pen. You lean forward, observing the tiny bodies of cuteness through the dirty glass. Frankie almost sees the twitch of your lip, but before it transforms into an expression you straighten up and roll your shoulders. 

“What can I help with?” 

Frankie asked you out on a date two weeks later. He liked to think it was due to the peer pressure coming from Pope and Benny rather than his undeniable infatuation with you. 

You were hardworking, emotional, and quick to point out stupidity. After learning more about the shelter and its issues, which was impressively quick, you started to constantly butt heads with Frankie. He knew your intentions were good, which is why he didn’t mind your passion coming out as impatience. You wanted to help. You wanted to see results. He understood quickly that according to you, the other volunteers were weak-handed, and didn’t want to get their hands dirty—but Frankie found that you were a little too eager to get your hands dirty. 

But he never said anything. He kept his observations to himself and asked you out for dinner at his place, he didn’t really have the budget to take you out, and his cooking was way better compared to Burger King or any other fast food chain. 

You showed up half an hour late with an apologetic smile and a bottle of red wine. 

“Sorry,” you said before hello. “Traffic was insane,” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he answers with a soft smile. “Come on in.” 

He took the bottle from you and waited until you’d completely passed the threshold, he noticed that you had a slight limp to your step. He closed the door and followed you inside. 

“Are you okay? You’re limping,” 

You were visibly surprised by the question, shoulders raising. Frankie understood then that you were attempting to hide it, and he flustered at the thought, he hadn’t meant to call you out or anything. 

“An asshole kid kicked me,” you sighed, clearly exasperated. “I was just waiting for the light to turn green and this little demon spawn kicked me while holding his mother’s hand. It hurt as hell, but surprise surprise mama satan said nothing!” 

Frankie placed the wine on the table and wiped his palms on his jeans, he was sweating. “Parents tend to be worse than the children they’re rising,” he cleared his throat. “Is it sprained? I can wrap it up for you if you want.” 

He held his breath when you walked up to him, placing a flat hand over his chest. 

“Eager to lick my wounds already,” you hummed, a faint glimmer in your eyes. “How chivalrous.” 

“Force of habit,” he grinned, which was followed up by a loud swallow. “I have a lot of friends that tend to get into trouble.” 

“Are these the soldier buddies I heard so much about?” you pull back your hand. 

He watched as you head for the couch, shrugging your jacket off before taking a seat. With practiced ease, he grabbed two crystal wine glasses and a sleek wine opener from the kitchen. He uncorked a bottle of red wine, letting the rich aroma fill the room, and poured it carefully into the glasses.

Frankie had made a somewhat decent charcuterie board. He raided his local grocery store the day before and picked up some basic items: a block of cheddar cheese, a package of sliced salami, a jar of olives, and a sleeve of crackers. He also added some grapes and cherry tomatoes for color.

He arranged everything on a wooden cutting board and placed it on the coffee table prior to your arrival. He was pleased to see that you’d already made yourself comfortable by crossing your legs, nibbling on a cracker topped with cheese and salami. 

“Thank you,” you said with a mouthful when Frankie placed the glass in front of you. Swallowing, you took the glass by the stem and brought it to your lips, swallowing the ruby liquid. “This is great. I really needed this,” 

“You do know that this isn’t the main course right?” he chuckled, throwing his arm over the back of the couch. “My budget isn’t that tight. We have pasta.” 

“Ohh pasta,” you sighed, licking your lips. Frankie’s eyes followed the bath of your tongue. “And that’s not what I meant. I’m just…I was trying to express gratitude I guess. It’s been a while since I felt good and I’m pretty sure it’s all thanks to you.” 

“Well, I’m sure that’s not true,” he couldn’t help but draw slow patterns across the back of your bare neck. He felt like a man possessed with the need to touch you, no matter how minimal. “You’re quite competent. I don’t think you need to give credit to me for your own healing.” 

“I can’t exactly discredit you either,” you smiled, shaking your head. “I’m sorry for being—” you swallowed, words seemingly failing you. “—for being not myself.” 

“Would it be okay if I ask what happened?” his, voice a beat above a whisper. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, you don’t seem like the type to talk about your feelings a lot.” 

“You’re too observant for comfort,” the fact that you smiled when saying it relieved him. “But I don’t mind talking about it. I feel like you deserve some kind of explanation—” 

“You don’t owe me anything.” 

“Even so…I would…like to talk about it,” you took another sip of your wine before turning to him completely, fingers nervously moving up and down the glass stem. “This is going to be cliche.” 

“I have no issues with cliches,” he smiled, the pads of his fingers pressing firmer into your skin. “Cliches are cliche for a reason.” 

“That’s a nice thought.” 

A moment of silence. You took another sip, lips shimmering with the residue left from the wine. 

“I was somewhat recently broken up with. I want to say it was a nasty breakup but it actually wasn’t—which shouldn’t bother me but it does.” 

Frankie remained quiet, waiting for you to continue. He didn’t dare to move or even breathe, in the passing silent seconds. Your chest raised as you took a deep breath, remembering made you wince. 

“We’re coworkers so I see him quite often. He’s also not the easiest person to get along with—and that’s not just me saying that. He kept a lot of things to himself, and it made me think ‘why be in a relationship if we’re not going to comfort and be honest with each other’ he took it well, actually. A week later I heard him being with someone else. I—I took it pretty bad.” 

“That’s okay,” Frankie said without waiting a beat. “He sounds like an asshole. And no one should expect you to take it with a smile.” 

“I guess not.” you sighed and leaned over to place the glass on the table. “I’m not being a very good date am I?” 

It wasn’t difficult to see that you were deflecting. However, being a man of his word, Frankie didn’t press for more details. He would learn more about the man that broke your heart with time, and even if he didn’t, that was alright, as long as he was able to make you smile, it didn’t matter to him what happened in your past. 

Considering his own mistakes and misfortunes, he hoped that you would spare him the same consideration. 

“You’re being a lovely date,” he answered, leaning closer. He noticed the way your eyes dropped to his lips, a soft exhale escaping them.

“That’s an awfully generous statement.” 

It was the way your lashes fluttered when he fully cradled your nape, squeezing softly, he allowed his lips to brush yours. Your eyes closed in a sort of surrender. Maybe he should’ve thought about it more before allowing himself to be a distraction. That was he was; a distraction—a balm to soothe your heart. He didn’t mind being the cure. Maybe that was fucked up of him. 

In that moment he liked to think that some part of him was using you too, for his own comfort. You treated him like he was a pure man, excluded from all sin. It’s far from the truth but it was nice for someone to look at him with admiration instead of ‘you fucked up’. 

He kissed you. Wine stained lips molding together, tongues intertwining, leaving no room to breathe. He inhaled your scent, smoke, and something sweet he couldn’t quite place his finger on. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, teeth gently digging into the soft flesh. Your hands skimmed his waist, goosebumps pebbling under the fabric of his shirt as he felt your fingers moving up and down. 

Frankie was the one to part away, but again, he kept you close, his forehead against yours. Your eyes remained closed, lips looking tender and swollen under the dim lights. 

“Frankie, can I ask you something?” 

“Anything.” 

“I don't mean to be presumptuous or anything, but I didn't just bring wine with me. I actually brought some weed, if that's something you'd be interested in smoking," you opened your eyes, staring directly into Frankie’s. “I know it's not for everyone, but it might be a nice way to unwind a bit."

In hindsight, Frankie probably should say no. He didn’t have any issues with you smoking it, but he just wasn’t sure if he should. It had been a while. He remembered using it a lot when he wanted to forget, or before inhaling a shit ton of coke, which he hasn’t done—at least not to that amount—since his license got taken away. 

His cock twitched when you dragged your lips down the column of his neck, pressing a kiss into his shoulder. He exhaled slowly, something that could be easily confused with a sigh. Your grip on his waist tightened. He didn’t want you to feel like he didn’t understand, or that he was against it. He wasn’t. 

While you laid another kiss above his collarbone, he placed one on your temple. 

“Sounds great.” 

They were on the floor. Smoke lingered deep in their lungs, a cloud of cannabis entrailing and curling around them both. Frankie had no idea how they ended up there; backs pressed against the couch cushions, coffee table pushed ahead, empty charcuterie board on your side. Their limbs were tangled with each other, your legs propped over Frankie’s thighs. 

His fingers curled around the meat of your thigh, stroking and squeezing the muscle affectionately. 

“What does it mean to be a bad person?” you asked suddenly. 

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. He slid his hand forward, following the peak of your knee and moving to your calf, there he drummed his thumb against the bone. “What do you think it means?” 

“I don’t know that’s why I’m asking,” you chuckled, you shimmied closer until the curve of your bottom touched the outside of his thigh. “Everything is so gray. I want to be a good person, always have. But then why am I suffering? Why am I having these thoughts that convince me I’m a waste? I thought being good meant sacrificing parts of yourself, to do good no matter what—being good means not thinking about yourself, that is what I was told. And I think I do that. With my job—” 

Your sentence came to an abrupt halt, you shook your head and Frankie could feel the tremors of the movement mirroring in his lap. He dragged his nails up and down your leg, imagining that a shudder would settle over your spine from it. 

“If being good means making sacrifices for it, why is it that the people who don’t are happier than me?” 

“You don’t know if they’re happy or not.” 

“That might be true but I do know that they’re not struggling like I am. They’re not lonely. They’re not afraid of it. Me on the other hand, I cry myself to sleep almost every night,” you shook your head, legs slowly starting to recoil. “Sorry, I—I can’t think, that was such a childish thing to complain about. You’re right. I don’t know what people think, maybe they’re just as tortured as I am.” 

Frankie kept your legs over his lap, forcefully so. “I don’t think it’s childish,” he exhaled one breath and inhaled two. His fingers slid down to your ankle, and there he felt your beating pulse. Your breath hitched. “I just think you’re hurt. We’re all afraid of something. You’re not alone in that.” 

“What are you afraid of?” 

“Losing myself.” 

The air around them stilled. Frankie’s mind threatened to spiral, he took heavy breaths, trying to focus on something, anything. He felt his heart beating in his throat and he swallowed—again and again. Your veins throbbed under the pads of his fingers, he focused on that, he thought that he could hear the blood rushing in your veins. 

“I think you’re too stubborn to lose yourself,” you whispered, hooking a finger under his chin and lifting his gaze back to you. “But I’ll tell you something, if you do, I’ll pull you out of it.” 

He smiled, his heartbeat finally slowing, “And I’ll always be there for you. You won’t have to worry about being alone. No matter what, I’ll be there. Deal?” 

“Deal.” 

He blinked and when he opened his eyes again you were straddling his lap. Frankie’s hands moved on instinct, large palms securing you by resting on your back. His lips found yours, he licked himself into your mouth, teeth digging into your bottom lip maybe a bit too hard. You moaned into his mouth and he swallowed every noise, he sucked the air from your lungs, urging the sway of your hips. Before he knew it, your shirt was off, and so was his. Naked bodies came together, the softness of your breasts against his chest. You kissed him like it was your last day on earth—like you needed it to survive. 

He cradled your breasts with both hands, pushing them towards his mouth. He flattened his tongue over the pebbled nipples, sucking them between his lips as much as he could. His cock strained against the zipper of his jeans, painfully so. But he didn’t care about that. How could he when you were grinding down on him, head thrown back and mewling as his teeth nipped the sensitive flesh?

More, you kept on begging, more. 

Frankie was eager to give you what you wanted. A fog settled over his mind, his common sense heavily guided by his need to fuck. Within the haze, the ungrounded whispered promises, they both managed to strip themselves. He couldn’t help himself. He squeezed, pinched, and bit. You returned it in kind. Nails raked over his back, teeth marks formed dents in his skin. 

His cock ached to be buried in you. It dripped heavily, precum smeared the inside of your thighs and stomach. Your chest heaving, placing both hands on his shoulders you lifted yourself up. His head fell back, his hands kneading your ass indulgingly as you sank into him. 

Frankie’s eyes rolled back. You were so fucking wet—wet and incredibly warm. He cursed into your skin, buried his face between your breasts, and kissed wherever his lips touched. You shuddered around him, walls clenched tightly around his cock. A stuttered breath left you both, his nails bit into your skin, the skin above his stomach taut as your arm slowly coiled around his neck. 

“Need you to move, querida,” he groaned, teeth grazing the swell of your breast. 

You relied on him to be able to move, it felt more poetic than it actually was. His muscles strained as you moved, your planted feet doing little work to lift your weight. Instead, you used him like an overhead bar, trusting him enough that he wouldn’t let you fall. It was beautiful, in a way. You trusted him even when he didn’t trust himself. 

“You feel so good,” he whispered, nipping your chin. “This pretty pussy feels like it was made for me to fuck.” 

He felt you shudder through his cock, his balls tight when your movements began to falter, legs shaking. “It was,” you gasped, clamping around him. “Frankie—I’m close. P-Please just—” your words cut off with a moan, head falling over his. He heard you sniffling. 

Frankie’s hands drew soothing patters over your back, feeling every dip and curve of your body. 

“Do you want me to make you come?” he asked. 

“Please.” 

With his feet firmly planted on the floor, he pushed up into you, burying himself as deep as he could. Your arms curled around his head like spiderwebs, the scent of sex and cannabis clung to your skin, breasts heavy as they swayed with his thrusts. 

He couldn’t help himself. You felt tight, warm—just aching for him to fill up. His entire body clenched as he shoved you down, his cock fully engulfed by your heat. He spilled into you, it’s so overwhelming that it’s borderline painful. He could fuck you until the end of time. 

A sudden worry consumed him. Frankie was quick to smooth your back with open palms, looking up at you with soft and pleading eyes. 

“S-Shit, I’m sorry—” 

But on the contrary, you seemed glad. You seemed satisfied and happy. 

“Don’t worry,” you let out a shaky breath. “I’m on the pill.” 

He found you half unconscious sprawled upon the couch. It wasn’t the first time Frankie found you like this, like a picture of his past, showcasing his worst moments and forcing him to re-live them. You groaned as he lifted you up, pushing you into a sitting position. He parted your fingers and shoved a glass of cool water into your hand. You smileed in a daze. 

“Thanks,” you muttered, your voice scratchy and dry. “How was your day?” 

Frankie didn’t answer. He scoffed and continued to clean up, when that was done he guided you to the bathroom. He placed you into the warm water, scrubbing the sweat off your skin. You started crying then. Shaking and muttering apologies, that he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t really think that way. Was it sad to see you like this, yes, no doubt about it. But he didn’t blame you. He didn’t think you were being evil or malevolent. You needed help. 

He needed help once too. And you weren’t anything that he couldn’t handle. Just a shit ton of weed and alcohol. He just needed to be here and it would be okay. He wanted to keep his promise.

Frankie told you as such. Not that you believed him. But he said it anyway. Reminding you that he was here, that it was okay. He would talk about himself, what he’d gone through without going into much detail. He didn’t think you were ready to hear that part of him yet. 

He smoothly guided the loofa over your skin, suds moving up and down. He noticed the bruises on your arms, your ribs. 

“What are these?” he asked. 

You looked down, shaking your head. “From work,” you quickly said. “I fell. Nothing important.” 

Frankie nodded and didn’t press any further. 

But the bruises didn’t stop. 

Every night when you came back from work, you had bruises, cuts, it almost looked like you were fighting but with who he had no idea. It became a problem. Him asking. It agitated you, made you lash out. And you lashing out made him lash out. He never wanted to break up, the opposite, he wanted to be with you. 

The words just slipped. 

“You need to tell me what’s going on so I can help. Do you want me to leave, is that it?” 

“Maybe you should.” Frankie made a face and you sighed. “Maybe it’s better for the both of us if we spend some time apart. Honestly, it’s probably better for you. I’m not…I’m not well, Frankie. You deserve someone better.” 

“What does that even mean?” Should he be angry? Should he put weight on these words that you were saying? 

“It means that my…my feelings aren’t enough to make this work.” 

“I think they’re plenty.” 

“They’re not, Frankie. You know that. This isn’t fair to you. You deserve someone who’s whole, someone who isn’t broken.” 

“Stop calling yourself that,” he snapped. “you’re not broken. I never thought that you were.” 

You walked up to him, a single tear trickling down your cheek as you placed a hand to his rough, stubbled cheek. "Goodbye, Frankie. Thank you," you whispered, before leaning in and kissing him softly on the lips.

Frankie's eyes widened in surprise, his body tensing for a moment before he relaxed into the kiss. It was brief, but it spoke volumes - of regret, of love, of loss.

When he left Frankie heard the sound of glass shattering against a hard surface.

Frankie regretted everything. He regretted Benny talking him into flying to San Francisco and he regretted saying yes to coming to this shitshow of a club just because Benny went on and on about how it was the hottest new thing. 

And typical of Benny, he was nowhere to be found. 

The air around him was suffocating. It smelled of alcohol and sweet perfume that was strong enough that he felt his nose might fall off at any given moment. People around him danced and laughed. He never felt more out of place in his life. He lifted his ballcap and ran his fingers through his hair. He should definitely go back to his hotel room. He’s sure Benny would understand. Besides what was the alternative? Find a random person to fuck? He wasn’t really in the mood to make pleasantries and act like he was fine when in reality he wasn't. 

Needless to say, the breakup had affected him more than he cared to admit. 

A group of girls shoved him around and his eyes went over the many drunk people in the club. He was desperately hoping Benny would miraculously appear in the midst of the people. Wouldn’t that be amazing?

His eyes caught glimpse of a couple sitting in one of the booths. It was hard to see due to the red light but still, he could never truly forget what you looked like, no matter how dimly lit it was. The man you were sitting with somewhat resembled him, he was clean-shaven, his mustache trimmed and neat. His eyes traced the curve of his nose, the dip of his eyebrows, the flat line of his lips. Frankie found the cowboy hat to be comical but he couldn’t really judge anyone when he wore a baseball cap 24/7. 

The cowboy leaned into your ear and murmured something but you were heavily distracted, your gaze glued to Frankie. It truly must’ve been a shock seeing him here. Not wanting to be rude, Frankie smiled, it was forced, it was broad but it was the best he could do as he headed in your direction. It just happened. He hadn’t really thought about it. 

“Hey.” he said. 

You looked up, a forced smile slowly spreading across your face. Frankie was somewhat pleased he wasn’t the only one feeling awkward. But despite it all, it was good to see you. 

“Hey,” you answered, a slight tremble in your voice. “How are you, Frankie?” 

“I’m good, you?” 

“Doing better,” this time, he noticed, your smile was a sincere one. “What are you doing here? This place doesn’t exactly scream ‘this is a hangout place for Frankie Morales’.” 

He chuckled and scratched the back of his head. For a second, he’d forgotten there was someone else with you. His heart sank when he heard the deep voice cut through the greetings from the past. 

“Aren’t you going to introduce us, buttercup?” 

Both you and Frankie turned to Jack, Frankie’s eyes scanned the other man with a hint of curiosity. He followed the way the other’s arm was tightly wrapped around your waist. Jealousy rolled in his stomach, he was glad that you were happy, of course. Still, he couldn’t deny the loud blood rush in his ears. 

“Frankie this is Ja– Bruce. This is Bruce,” you said, Frankie raised an eyebrow at the mixup. He wasn’t stupid. “He’s my–” 

Bruce (Frankie didn’t believe that was the man’s name but he’d play along for now) cut in, his voice dripping with amusement. 

“Boyfriend,” he leaned forward with an extended hand. With a kind, yet emotionless smile, Frankie squeezed the aforementioned limb. “Nice to meet you, Frankie.” 

“Nice to meet you too.” 

It wasn’t. 

The air was thick with tension. You moved uncomfortably in your seat, as Frankie held “Bruce”’s gaze. He’s not sure what it was but the other man managed to rail him up by simply just sitting. It was an odd feeling, usually, Frankie was known to be level-headed in these kinds of situations. After everything he’s seen, he just assumed stuff like this wouldn’t bother him anymore. He pinched his brows together. It was uncomfortable to think that he was just faking not being bothered. Acting above it all.  

His jaw tensed, his skin incredibly warm. Suddenly the music and the loud chatter faded into the background, all he could focus on was the other man—even you had become a blurred image to a degree. The man smiled, his hand on your waist gradually sliding up your body while answering Frankie’s gaze. The latter swallowed. 

You gasped when the same hand cupped your breast and began to knead it. 

“What are you doing?” 

Frankie’s mouth went dry. 

“Don’t fret, I’m just giving our friend a little show,” 

Frankie vaguely noticed you staring at him, he was frozen still. His gaze was glued to the hand lazily squeezing your breast. Bruce nuzzled the dip of your jawline, lips gently grazing the line of your neck, and he breathed you in. Frankie licked his lips, his fingers twitching against the denim of his pants. Something primal stirred in him when your breath hitched. The red light gave the two of them a vibrant, erotic hue. The front of his jeans suddenly felt tight, uncomfortable. 

The cowboy’s other hand traveled down to the wetness that Frankie’s sure had grown substantially between your legs. He noted the way your eyes rolled back, his finger underneath your dress, he imagined the other tracing your clothed folds.

“Do you enjoy being watched, dear?” he purred into your skin, his voice low and mocking. Then he looked up to Frankie who was frozen still. “Look at you, staring at her like a deer in headlights. Don’t you wanna come over here and feel how wet she is?” 

Frankie had to stop himself from leaning forward, he was more than ready to take that extra step. His skin tingled. His eyes flit from the other man to you. He saw the way you stared at him, blinking heavily, a silent plea for him to come closer. He furrowed his brows, if you wanted to he’d happily take a seat next to you. He stepped closer, his heart skipped a beat. Bruce seemed to be delighted. 

“Are you sure?” Frankie asked you. 

You’re about to nod– No, not about to, you’re in the midst of nodding, but the movement was cut short when you saw something Frankie couldn’t. You were staring through him, your eyes went wide. 

“Shit.” 

Frankie watched dumbfounded as you grabbed Bruce by the arm and tugged him along as you scurried up from the booth. He took a step back, trying to make sense of what was happening. Bruce glared at you and yanked his arm away.

“What the hell–” 

“It’s him– Albert Dunn, the waitress tipped him off. Come on Jack we need to go,” 

Frankie raised an eyebrow. “Jack?” 

He fucking knew his name wasn’t Bruce. He didn’t look like a Bruce. 

Jack rushed to the door, leaving you alone. Frankie was worried, but he also felt anger simmering in his gut. So you went back to your ex, the ex that made you feel like shit and pushed you to seek comfort in other substances. Oh yeah, he was definitely angry. 

He took a hold of your wrist and pulled you close so his voice could reach you. 

“That was Jack? I thought–” he sighed and shook his head, it was hard to swallow his frustrations down but somehow he managed to do it. “You’re not in any kind of trouble, right? You’re safe?” 

You nodded as you attempted to peel yourself away from his grasp, but he didn’t let you. He squeezed your wrists hard enough to be understood as a warning.  

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” 

“I can’t, I’m sorry.”

He felt defeated at that moment, his stomach sinking and his pulse slowing. His grip around your wrists loosened, and despite the crowd, it felt like it was only the two of you present. The bass of the music made his heart thud accordingly, his gaze dropped to the floor. 

“I’ll call you,” you said suddenly. 

Before Frankie could answer, you ran and disappeared into the crowd. He just stood there, hands lifeless against his body. Some part of him wanted to chase after you, but another part knew that he shouldn’t. 

He didn’t know when but he jerked when a hand smacked his shoulder. Frankie turned only to see Benny, his smile faded as he saw Frankie’s expression. 

“Are you alright, Fish?” 

He wasn’t.

Frankie was working on a car for what felt like hours. 

Sweat drips down his forehead and neck, leaving streaks of dirt on his skin. He wipes his oily hands on the rag that hangs from his back pocket, his eyes squinting against the hot sun. The air around him is thick with the smell of gasoline and motor oil, but he barely notices it anymore.

He sighs as he stands up, his knees aching from being hunched over for so long. The car is almost done, but he needs a break. He reaches for his water bottle, taking a long drink before leaning against the hood of the car.

That's when he hears it - the roar of an engine. He turns his head to see a vintage Ford Bronco driving towards him. He raises an eyebrow, surprised. It's not every day that a classic car like that pulls into his garage.

As the car comes to a stop, he walks towards it, wiping his hands on his jeans. He squints into the driver's seat, but he can't make out the driver's face. He shrugs, assuming it's just another customer, and goes back to his work.

But as the driver gets out of the car, Frankie's heart skips a beat—which he doesn’t appreciate. It's Jack. He feels a rush of emotion that he can't quite place. The man hops out of the car and greets him by tipping his hat. Frankie doesn’t return Jack’s enthusiasm. He just stares at him, confused. 

“Need your car fixed?” he asks, hoping this is just a coincidence. 

“Not quite,” Jack drawls. “I actually wanted to apologize for my behavior a week back—in the bar.” he adds when Frankie gave him a quizzical look. “I would like to buy you a drink.” 

Frankie waves him off in dismissal, “No need. It’s nice for you to apologize but we don’t need to be friends. It’s weird.” 

“I suppose it is,” he grins. “Just one drink.” 

“Why?” 

“I just want to talk,” he answers, teeth poking above his lip. “I don’t bite, promise.” 

Frankie seems to have a lot of regrets nowadays. This is just one of many.

They walk into a dimly lit bar, the cool air conditioning a welcome relief from the hot day. Jack leads the way to a booth in the corner, and they both slide in, facing each other. Every muscle Frankie feels uncomfortably tight over his bones. 

He really shouldn’t be here.

Jack orders them both a whiskey on the rocks, and he unpromptedly clinks his glass against Frankie’s. The first sip burns down Frankie's throat, but he relishes the sensation. 

“So… you’re a mechanic?” Jack asks. 

“She didn’t tell you much about me did she?” Frankie smiles, the corners of his lips twitch. “No, I guess she wouldn’t. Why would she tell her boyfriend about her ex.” 

“We aren’t actually—” Jack swallows. “We aren’t actually a couple. We ain’t even friends to be truthful, just acquaintances.” 

“From work?” Frankie asks despite knowing the answer, the other nods. 

Frankie takes another sip of his whiskey and studies Jack’s face. There’s something different about him now. Maybe it’s the way he carries himself or the set of his jaw, but Frankie can’t quite put his finger on it. Frankie leans back against the booth, his eyes fixed on Jack’s face. He can feel his body tensing up again, despite the coolness of the air conditioning. He takes another sip of his whiskey, hoping it will calm his nerves.

“Listen, Jack,” Frankie says, his voice low. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I don’t want anythin’,” Jack says, his eyes meeting Frankie’s. 

“Then why are we here?” 

“I was just curious about what kind of man you are,” he swipes over his bottom lip. “She might’ve not spoken about you much but when she did, she did speak highly of you.” 

Jack leans in closer, his arm brushing against Frankie's. 

“It seems like you’re a much better man than I could ever be.” 

“I wouldn’t really go that far. I don’t know you and I don’t know what she said but nothing is ever that simple.” 

Frankie observes as Jack’s eyebrows slowly raise, eyes only slightly wider. The other seems taken aback by the words and Frankie’s not really sure why. Maybe Jack still wasn’t aware that good and bad didn’t exist, that they were just terms. No one is really truly bad or truly good, you understand that after being at war, after shooting others that had families and loved one’s before they shot you. 

He shakes his head, trying to rid his thoughts of unpleasant memories. Those thoughts were only reserved for the late hours till morning—

Frankie feels the heat rising in his cheeks as Jack's hand brushes against his knee. He tries to ignore it, but he can't help but feel a stirring in his chest.

They start to get closer, their arms touching as they lean in to talk. Frankie can feel the heat of Jack's body next to his. Jack’s gaze lingers on him. He takes a sip of his drink, trying to steady his nerves. Frankie’s leg bobs up and down, he should leave. 

“I should go,” Frankie chokes out, he shifts in his seat, getting ready to get up.

“Stay.” 

Frankie can feel Jack’s breath on his cheek and his heart starts to race. It’s just a voice. Jack’s not even touching him, he not holding his wrists, doesn’t have a gun to his head but despite it, Frankie stills. 

“I appreciate the drink,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. “But I’m fine.”

“Are you sure about that?” Jack asks.

“I’m sure,” he says, his eyes locked with Jack’s.

Jack leans in even closer, his lips just inches away from Frankie’s ear. “Alright then,” he whispers, his breath sending shivers down Frankie’s spine. “See you later, Francisco.” 

Frankie can’t throw himself out of the bar fast enough. 

The world around him spins, the cars louder, brighter the before. He heaves a breath. What the hell was that? He thinks over and over. The warmth of Jack’s breath still lingers and Frankie crosses the street, adamant about putting as much distance as he can. 

When he’s on the other side, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He doesn’t recognize the caller ID but takes any kind of distraction with open arms and answers. 

“Hello?” 

“Frankie it’s me,” you say and an odd sense of relief washes over him. “Can we meet up?” 

He stops, takes deep breaths of the city air. His throat is dry and he lifts his head to the sky. 

“Sure,” he answers. “How does tomorrow sound?” 

[thatgordongirl]

BBC Ghosts Season 2 : Life references

After months of putting it off, Season 2 is finally finished!

Episode 1 - The Grey Lady

Captain’s “For King and Country” is in reference to George VI

Thomas references Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare 

Julian plays ping pong and says it takes him back to the David Lloyd in Chelsea 

Julian spoils the World Cup quarterfinals for Pat, implying he watched it when alive 

Mary was mostly illiterate

A 14th century grindstone is found in the cellar 

Captain unsurprisingly mentions the war again

Julian thinks he can do an impression of Nelson Mandela 

Thomas does an impression of an earl, but I couldn’t find anything on them so please excuse my lack of British know how 

Fanny appears in photos 

Julian didn’t believe in ghosts when he was alive 

Pat lists his skills in life: knot-tying, tent-pitching, archery 

Julian references Newsnight 

Fanny has been to a sideshow 

I’m assuming Pat and Julian are referencing Bruce Forsyth, which Julian has before 

Not a life thing, but I find it interesting that both Robin and Captain have said ghosts can’t feel the cold, only for Captain to question it 

Side note: Thomas’ cheese commercial made me hungry

Fanny’s dress is made of silk 

I like to think Captain talking to Dante’s taxidermy means he likes dogs

Pat likes pop quizzes

Captain likes running, a no brainer 

Captain remarks that he’s in his prime and that’s he’s still got it, implying that he at least believed he was in good health when alive 

Episode 2 - About Last Night 

Mick the plague ghost comes back the village they’ll eventually die in

Mick claims to have had an orange, have seen a bear kill a man, and met the king and went fishing 

He brought salt and clothes for the other plague ghosts, which led to their deaths 

Side note: Mick coughing up the blood was so scary to me, dying from a sickness 

Thomas may be able to cook, since he says he wished he could make Alison breakfast - lamb’s kidney and onion- before being cut off. I wonder if Thomas learned or liked to cook 

Thomas acknowledges he wasn’t formally invited to the party, a custom he’s used to

None of the surrounding villages were struck with plague 

Captain asks to watch a war documentary while Pat wants to watch football 

Julian believed that you should drink more alcohol when hung over

Mary offers a remedy: mushrooms soaked in goats milk and vinegar till it’s warm 

Pat says that cola is good for a hang over 

Side note again: Thomas is really sweet when he informs Alison of Dante’s disappearance, or the multiple times he’s wished to help her with things like cooking and cleaning. We love a helpful king 

Fanny loved Dante like her own child according to Thomas, and she once told Julian she loved Dante more anything else in the world. If she did have kids, I wonder if the relationship was strained. Also, it’s such a notable fact that everyone knows it, including ghosts that weren’t around for Fanny’s life

I know he’s easily coerced into not doing it, but the fact that Captain wanted to tell Fanny immediately that Dante was missing is very sweet 

Julian has extensive experience in public inquiries, specifically being the one getting asked the questions

Julian describes how it make an alcoholic drink to Alison 

Kitty’s heard white wine helps with stains

Fanny is not fond of mice

Mary thinks Veronica, Clive and Annie are nice names. I won’t include Daniel because it was her having a close call with Daniel 

Dante used to like sitting by the fire 

Episode 3 - Redding Weddy

Captain’s soldiers at Button House were apparently prone to giggling and horseplay 

Introduction of Captain’s Lieutenant, Havers 

We see Captain being informed that France has surrendered, which occurred in June 1940 

Captain requested a service revolver

Lieutenant Havers had an emergency lockdown initiated shortly after 

Havers informs Captain he wants to be involved in fighting, and has put in a transfer for the North Africa front 

Pat is, unsurprisingly, well versed in activity badges, and everyone else can recite them 

Robin knows how to skin a mammoth 

Julian, my dear, you are way off. It took Mary more than 300 years to talk about the witch trial if she did indeed die in the 1610s 

Pat likes Top Gun 

Julian references Chariots of Fire from 1981, Mississippi Burning from 1988 and The Towering Inferno from 1974

Little reference to the next episode when Thomas says he would show Julian his glove if he had one. Also, the wedding guy says the backyard looks like a bomb site, when it literally is one. Stuff like that make the show so much cooler

Julian used to do boxing for Cambridge 

Pat says s'il vous plaît

Fanny and Kitty read Lady Chatterley’s Lover by D. H. Lawrence 

Julian references the Suez crisis

Thomas references Jack and the Beanstalk

Pat calls the laptop the computer that folds

Pat was with Carol at her parents’ house when the moon landing happened, eating fish and chips and trying a jumbo battered sausage for the first time

Julian was a student at Cambridge when the moon landing happened and having his first threesome 

Captain claims that his dog Barry is buried where the bomb is, which is obviously untrue, but he also says that where they buried their pets, plural. I like to think Cap’s soldiers had a few dogs about

Captain has a letter with William written on it, which he tucks into his clothes. Captain says he was just thinking about Havers, which would later link to how they both knew about operation William 

Havers gets a new service revolver 

Captain has poster in his office about men wanted in the army, and also a wall full of books

Captain and his soldiers played cricket 

Julian references 9 1/2 weeks, a 1986 erotic movie 

Thomas always chooses pistol

Julian sold 50 crates of AK-47 assault rifles to the Libyans in 1983 to pay for his orangery 

Julian uses a grenade and a flamethrower on Thomas, I don’t know if his “I’m melting” line is meant to reference the Wizard of Oz or not

The statue outside, Florence, was one of Kitty’s best friends 

Kitty’s sister would pretend to not be able to find her when playing hide and seek

Kitty once hid for a whole day and night, and got so hungry she had to eat a bit of her purse 

I mean it’s just meant to look funny and be a reference but Julian can canonically spin a ball on one finger 

Nobody has ever found Kitty during hide and seek 

Nice canon Cap in a coat, love a bit of that

He also smokes, or at least fiddles the occasional pipe

Oh and he threw that envelope into the hole with the bomb

Captain buried a prototype limpet mine, which was so secret only he and Havers knew about it, along with the blueprints 

Captain talks bomb mechanics with Robin, the cutest thing I’ve ever seen

Pat knows about 2001: A Space Odyssey 

Robin thinks the earth is flat 

There’s a bit of speculation here: I can’t actually say with absolute certainty that Captain really saw Havers go. Maybe it’s wishful thinking that Havers would turn back and salute one last time, maybe it did happen, maybe it didn’t 

Episode 4 - The Thomas Thorne Affair

Robin would wear a space suit, Mary a seashell dress, Tom double denim with aviators, Julian misses pants, Pat’s wearing his lovely gist, Kitty wears the same as Alison, and Captain would wear his uniform 

Julian is unsurprisingly well versed in political tactics like the spin 

Captain identifies a musket ball

It’s the one that made Thomas very dead

This is another thing I’m uncertain about: whether Thomas feels pain or just does it for dramatic affect 

Quick side note before sad Thomas lore, I think I forgot to mention last time that Julian mentioned Great Expectations 

Thomas died October 10th, 1824

Thomas came to Button House when it was owned by the Highams’, Thomas and Francis were invited

They can both ride horses

Thomas had stated the house was pleasant to look at, but he wouldn’t want to live there (rippppp)

Thomas was in love with Isabelle Higham 

Thomas wrote a poem called Hermione and Roger and recited in front of everyone ( turns out he always sucked, but his poetry didn’t really sound that bad to me in this episode ) 

Isabelle played the harpsichord 

I always wonder during this episode how Thomas remembers his death so wrongly, whether he’s lying about it or simply so horrified he forgot I don’t know 

Even so, I think Thomas genuinely was in love and didn’t misinterpret as much before Isabelle

Thomas challenged some guy to a duel, we love a gun brandishing king 

Francis is a bitch- anyway back to Thomas

Thomas went twenty paces instead of ten, should’ve listened to ten duel commandments Thomas

The first animation with the spinning paper thing was shown

Monster munch, no words

Julian with his bloody playboy magazine, I’m not surprised 

First mention of Annie, Mary’s bestie

Humphrey is such a lovely soul, learning to admire the little things like shoes 

Okay wait, Alison says “you’ve literally got forever” which parallels Captain’s “we’ve got forever” 

HOLD UP THAT DUEL GUY WAS INSULTING MARY SHELLEY 

HOW DARE HE 

Thomas shot a bird and apologised before he died 

Isabelle never came to see Thomas before he passed, he was left alone to die

Julian cried at Thomas’ death 

Francis rigged the whole thing to trick Thomas and Isabelle in order to get Higham House

Francis and Isabelle’s son was George’s grandfather 

Everyone is related through Robin and his sister 

Poor Tom, you stay how you die and that letter isn’t going anywhere 

Episode 5 - Bump in the Night 

Cap likes to count with Humphrey’s hands 

Captain tells Alison of life from the knees “Trust me, you don’t want a hernia” either he had one or knew someone who did

Humphrey knows that hedgehogs will leave flees in the rug 

Also Captain and Humphrey’s exchange “Pick me up at six. Literally” “Very good” is so cute 

Fanny references oyster forks

She assumes they’re eating oysters at the wedding 

Julian sings “I’ll make love to you” by Boyz II Men

Humphrey on guard is cute 

Captain does his own little vocalisation of what I’m assuming is a long way to Tipperary 

Kitty assumes the intruders are there for a masked ball 

Julian references the Bramptons and assumes it’s insurance fraud 

Captain knows it’s a burglary 

Pat tries to put them under a citizens arrest, so cute 

Pat references Borstal 

Alison taught Kitty acronyms - Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain 

Captain calls the police the constabulary 

“Burglary in process”

Captain - “why is no one ever alive when you need them?” Very telling, Cap

Julian gets worried Margaret Thatcher is dead. Too late Julian 

Fanny admires the brushwork of her portrait

Cap and Pat watched Star Wars 

Julian worries about getting RSI 

Pat, Cap and Julian know Morse code 

Julian lobbied against an animal welfare bill 

Robin always gets excited by fire 

Captain says he could have Robin shot off desertion, scaring Thomas 

Alison meets a ghost who died hitchhiking. I find that to be an interesting concept, as the ghost is more based on the archetype. Makes me think about if Robin’s ability or character was created first

Robin howls for the dogs

Uh, Pat talks about drugs going in unsavoury places 

Fanny would make a good criminal 

Captain says he fought in an actual battle, it’s difficult to hear but it’s there

Julian loves a good sauna 

Episode 6 - Perfect Day

Mary believes that bad weather means bad tidings for the wedding

Fanny believes marriages should be at churches 

Pat’s wedding day was the best day of his life, Carol wore velvet and he wore a brown three piece 

Julian was drunk on his wedding day 

Fanny’s wedding day was at Winchester Cathedral and she was given away by the Marquis of Granby 

Robin had at least thirty children

Kitty can throw up, and had food in her stomach when she died

Robin says that’s never happened before

Captain is very good at decorating, no surprise

Pat recognises the kid who killed him 

Mary and her wedding superstitious 

Both Pat and Julian talk about Dennis Waterman

Robin and Julian talk about Mick Hucknall

Kitty’s dress is burgundy 

Captain has great fashion sense

Thomas references Whitechapel 

You know, Thomas’ explanation of how Clare looked was pretty accurate, he’s quite aware of emotions

Fanny stops in front of George’s portrait, just an interesting detail 

Fanny had high expectations placed on her since she was a child 

Alison and Mike got married young 

Alison had second thoughts on their wedding day

Mary had a husband, who was crushed underneath a plough three years after their marriage 

The man Pat recognises is Keith Darren Dean 

First time hearing about Humphrey’s marriage: it was arranged, they were both from noble families, he was fourteen she was twelve 

They didn’t love each other, and Humphrey believed she didn’t like him, they couldn’t understand each other because she was French 

Course later we find out she thought highly of him

Keith has guilt that has lasted decades, that sounds so painful 

Fanny and Thomas exchange a look when she finally comes around to the wedding, it’s just so sweet I had to mention it

Keith remembers the knot tying Pat taught him

Episode 7 - The Ghost of Christmas

Julian is giving a speech for a bill at the start of the episode, referencing saying goodbye to Margot the day before 

He refers to her as ‘this woman from my wedding’ and implies he’s about to sleep with another woman by the end of the scene

Nickname count: Dearest, darling and dear

The baby, Rachel, is heard crying on the phone

Margot asks when Julian is coming home, so he lies to her and says he won’t be back for days

Pat loves Christmas cooking, such a dear

Captain wishes he had a whiteboard

Julian points out the humbugs, and says he hates Christmas 

Captain misses hearing the King’s speech on Christmas

Pat liked playing games with his nephew and his son, Daley

Games like Buckaroo, Boggle, Yahtzee and KerPlunk 

Thomas misses the mistletoe, implying he’s been kissed before

Kitty used to open presents in the morning and then after lunch Eleanor would pick the ones she wanted

Mary says that some babies can see ghosts until they start walking 

Julian is in the warmest room in the house due to his legs

Julian was in Brussels once at a strip club,  but he tells Margot he’s at a restaurant eating moules-frites and drinking a Sancerre 

Margot seems at least skeptical of him

This is one of the Christmases he misses, the last four of his life that involve Rachel 

Julian references the European Union

Fanny convinced Alison to follow the tradition of chopping a tree down and bringing it on for Christmas

Fanny planted at least fifty saplings in her time

It’s kind of funny that Julian is horrified by Mary getting naked

Thomas’ Christmas recital thing wasn’t that bad 

From inference, it’s implied that Julian believes Margot wanted the baby, and that he had it thrust upon him

And if “I know, darling, I know” represents Margot, and Julian thinks that’s a reaction she would have, damn is that sad

She’s practically taking the blame for his misery

Julian would go for a drive if the baby got too irritating to him 

It appears that out of the four Christmases away from Rachel,  one was to do oil deals, one was to be in Brussels, one at Colonel Gaddafi’s palace, and possibly another in Brussels 

Pat loves Twister

Thomas and Cap have physical discipline 

Pat would go to the shed to drink a Watney’s 

Julian being considerate of Angela sleeping is either a new development, or something he was never pushed to do in life

The PC brigade may have interrogated Julian

Fanny seems to hold her Christmases in a high regard, despite George. Maybe it wasn’t always bad

Julian has kissed the wrong people under the mistletoe 

Alison plays In the Bleak Midwinter on the piano 

Rachel Fawcett is an MP for the Green Party, she’s a Major Leader of it 

[f0point5]

I don’t want to bring up drama but I really want to know if you think the simply lovely thing is big deal or not because people are still talking about it on Twitter and I’m curious about your thoughts

Oh this is going to turn into a think piece lol.

Firstly, no, I don’t think it’s a big deal. I think unless Lando’s wins the next 30 races in a row, no one will ever remember that he once said simply lovely after winning the Dutch gp 2 years from now.

But I do get why people are talking about it now, because it’s yet another low EQ moment for Lando and people love to either hate or defend him to their last breath.

Look, I think it’s pointless to speculate about Lando’s intentions. We don’t know the guy. And that goes for people who think they “get” his humour as much as people who think he’s an ass. No one knows what he was “meaning” to do other than him. And it kind of doesn’t matter imo and here’s why.

If win a race against my friend, who is considered to be one of the best at what we do, who has had a hard time with negative media attention, whose achievement at this very circuit was met with a lot of criticism; if on top of this I am known for being “misunderstood” and “arrogant” and I’m aware that the thing I say get taken out of context…that all being the case, I wouldn’t say “simply lovely”. That is not who I am as a friend or a person, that’s not how I’d want my win to be remembered. A general cognisance of the context would tell me to make a different choice. So for me, regardless of the intention, ew.

I’d also like to point out that if it’s just a joke between friends, maybe say it to the friend who is in on the joke? Because saying “simply lovely, huh” to your race engineer isn’t a thing unless you’re bantering about that with multiple people.

We don’t know what Max thinks about it, and really he might be totally fine about it, or he might be silently seething about it or somewhere in between. Regardless, his and Lando’s relationship is his business. If that’s the company he likes to keep then who tf is anyone to say anything about that?

But we can say for ourselves whether that’s the company we’d keep in his position, or whether we find that distasteful.

As for Daniel stirring it…I said this elsewhere but as an outside viewer I’m glad he stirred it lol. Because I never like to speak when something’s pissed me off in case I look petty but I do like when other people recognise the thing. Maybe Max wouldn’t be impressed by Daniel talking about him and maybe Daniel should have just kept his mouth shut and been a bit more professional. But Daniel would know more about the spirit in which the comment was meant and how it was received than anyone on the internet. Daniel is also pretty close with Lando, he knows the “humour”.

But yeah I guess my final PSA is, even if it was meant as a joke, Max isn’t obliged to find the joke funny. Lando could have meant it with absolutely no negativity and Max could still say “I actually found it rude” and that’s okay. All these people like “oh it was obviously a joke” well maybe not everyone is laughing? We don’t know either way but “it’s a joke” it’s an exoneration in and of itself.

What it all comes down to, for me, is fuck the intention because we don’t know it. To me, the person I am, the fact that twelve seconds after winning your second Grand Prix the first thing that came to your mind was a joke about your friend? That’s the biggest dick ride in history honestly.

Statement made indeed.

[thesupreme316]

Is the Grass Greener on the Other Side? EP. 6

Summary: After meeting with Triple H, Y/N starts to evaluate her career and where to go next. So what happens when she meets with one of WWE's biggest competitors?

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: None I think, isn't proofread tbh

Notes: I FINALLY GOT INSPO AND TIME SO HERE IT IS

Links to other parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

August 31st

“Ms. Y/L/N, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

You smiled as you sat down at the table, across from the other person. “Likewise. I’m happy to have this opportunity.”

“I know you and I am just happy to be in a room with such a legend in the making.”

“Mr. Kahn, I’m sure you are surrounded by legends in the making every day.”

“Well, yes to a certain extent; but none of them have the charisma and charm that you possess. And please call me Tony.”

Could you complain about life right now?

HELL NO

You had a lot to be grateful for like this meeting with Tony Kahn.

Everything was going great after the meeting with Paul. You started to feel like your old self again; you made your first public appearance at a fashion show, you started becoming an ambassador for multiple brand deals, you went viral for sitting next to Rihanna and then became the head ambassador for Fenty, and you were a single pringle.

But most importantly, you began to wrestle and train more. Almost every day, you got in the ring and you saw vast improvements even from the last time you stepped in the ring (which was two months ago). And because you were re-entering the public’s eye, your career and where you would end up as people noticed your contract was almost up at WWE (and the fact they haven’t seen you since July). Many companies have been offering you different amounts for you to sign to them.

Now you were here….at AEW…WWE’s biggest competitor since WCW….just “looking around.”

“Well, Tony, I really do appreciate this hospitality. It just softens the blow when it comes down to business.” You joked, making him chuckle.

“Of course. Well, I would say that we are just like everything you’re used to, but we both know that’s a lie.”

“How would you say that you’re different?”

“A big example is creative freedom; we barely use scripts, it’s just a basis and talent says what they want. Gimmicks, ring style, and creative ideas are mostly from the locker room and then are tweaked to make sure it’s okay with our sponsors. I also would say we have a great checks-and-balances system here as well.” You nodded your head as that was your main concern as you didn’t wanna throw out the things that brought you to your status now.

Since hearing that, your heart rate has decreased. You wanted to be yourself and not have to worry about lessening yourself to make others look good. “But I’m curious, since you’re a hot topic and agent, how much have you been getting offered?”

You discussed the amounts that you have been offered from Impact, AAA, NJPW, and Shimmer. Then, you told him about the arrangement that WWE (specifically Hunter) presented to you. Tony’s eyes went wide as he spoke up again, “That is really a good deal. I think William Regal received the same offer. It seems that they only offer that to those they must really like.” You giggled as he continued, “If you want, we can extend the talk to next week so I can give you a proper figure estimate. Until then, we can roam around backstage and meet the talent.”

“That would be great!”

For the next hour, Tony dragged you around backstage, introducing you to many talents that you haven’t had the pleasure of stepping in the ring with yet. You saw some old faces of people you’ve met and were friends with. Some were happy to see you, others not so much. Either way, you caused a wave backstage, you could even feel the tension to a certain extent. Eventually, Tony allowed you to roam by yourself as he attended to some business, which is how you started hanging out with Daniel (who was surprised) yet again.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that you were coming here,” Daniel said playfully hitting your shoulder.

“Surprise? I didn’t want you to spoil anything, cause you know, you have a big mouth.” You said making him do a fake offended face. It was nice joking with him, it kind of helped relieve you of the stress and tension that you were feeling.

“How dare you?” He said laughing, he gave you a hug. You breathed in his cologne as he breathed in your perfume, both being delighted in the scents. You felt great being in familiar arms, especially of a man who you keep close to your heart. The same could be said for Daniel, he was legitimately grateful and glad to see you, as he normally is. “But I am happy you’re here. Now we can-“

“Y/N!” A voice from behind you cut him off. You broke away from the hug and turned around to see a fluffy-haired Hook with a wide smile walking up. Squealing you ran up to him and hugged him, excited to see him. “I heard that you were around, had to see it to believe it.” He said pulling away from you, allowing his hand to fall at your waist.

“Yeah, I’ve been sitting here catching up with Danny.” You smiled while motioning towards him. Daniel’s face became stoned real quick when Hook entered his view. His eyes traveled and landed on the spot where Hook’s hand was sitting on your waist. It bothered him. It bothered him that you are allowing him to touch you, let alone allowed your attention to go towards him. Daniel smacked his teeth in annoyance as Hook smirked.

“Garcia,” Hook greeted.

“Hook.” He responded.

Hook was loving this; he loved how jealous Daniel was getting and knowing he can’t do a damn thing about it as long as you were here. He loved that he was touching you like this and not him, no matter if it was a small gesture. “How are you, man?”

Daniel shrugged, not allowing his face to fall. “Good. How are you feeling?”

“Comfortable.”

“A little too comfortable,” Daniel said under his breath as Hook’s smirk widened. If anything, Hook tightened his grip around you before moving his hand further down to your hip. Daniel didn’t like that either, and he didn't like how you weren't doing anything about it, as if you were oblivious to everything. He cleared his throat, "So, how do you feel about your big match coming up?"

Hook shrugged and briefly flicked his eyes to you, "Nothing I can't handle."

"To be honest, I think it might be too much for you."

Your eyes widened, you didn't know what was going on but you didn't like the direction it was heading in. Hook squinted at Daniel, making his hand drop from your body completely. "What do you mean?"

"I just think you're biting off more than you can chew. Considering that you are just a rookie after all. Some prizes are just too big for you to win," Garcia said smirking as Hook was now stone-faced.

"Well then Garcia, what about your match?"

"Fine, I'm confident that I'm gonna win and everything that comes with it."

Hook chuckled, "Okay, but what if it's past your time? That you don't even have a chance anymore? Or that the opportunity for you has passed you by." He stepped closer to Daniel, who also stepped forward to the point that they were almost nose-to-nose.

"I still got my shot. I haven't failed-"

"Yet. That is until someone else better comes into play."

The tension in the air was becoming so thick that you couldn't even cut it….without a chainsaw. You couldn't even grab either of their attention as they were silently challenging each other. As the staring contest started between the two men, a stagehand came up to Daniel to let him know his segment was starting. Daniel, without any words, gave you a hug and left to go to the stage.

"What was that about?" You asked as Hook looked at Daniel's figure walking away.

"Don't worry your pretty head about it." Hook said, "Everything's gonna be okay."

September 7th

Today was a great Wednesday…a lot more fun and stress-free in comparison to last Wednesday. That's also probably because you were at a party. Not just any party, but Daniel's celebratory party for winning the ROH Pure Championship. It's been a long day for you as you were stuck in meetings all day, watched Dynamite backstage (which caused an uproar online), explored the locker room, and built and re-established bonds. You were tired, but you put that aside for Daniel because he deserves it; the title, the happiness, and everything else that came with it as he said.

But you still needed to try to get all your ducks in a row for the next major stage in your life. So you were, in the bathroom, on the phone with Mercedes and Trinity, catching them up on everything for the first time in a while.

"Well, this has been a very eventful month for you so far." Mercedes said, "But, hey, you deserve it. You're getting back on your feet and back out in society."

"You say that as if I've been isolated from society." You pouted.

"You basically have been, girl!" Trinity exclaimed, making you roll your eyes. "Now, go enjoy yourself at the party. You're supposed to be having a good time and here you are talking about work and stress. There will be a time for all that later."

Mercedes agreed, "Girl, go! I'm sure that Garcia would like to see you, especially with how you look right now." You were dressed in the best dress you could find with heels that hurt your feet so much.

You all exchanged goodbyes before hanging up. After fixing your makeup, you exited the bathroom to find your best friend on the floor like there was no tomorrow. His eyes lit up even more as he made eye contact with you. Daniel made his way to you, title around his waist and all. "Y/N! I'm so happy to see you! I thought I would have to cancel if I didn't see you!" Daniel said, having his words run together

"First Danny, congrats champ! Second, are you drunk?"

"Nope! Just buzzed, I think." He slurred and laughed, making you laugh. Daniel was so cute when before leaning down. "Do you wanna dance? It's boring without you on the floor."

Laughing, you took Daniel's hand as he lead you to the dance floor. The two of you danced to many songs, twirling and spinning around to the point Daniel gave Isiah his title belt to put away in VIP. You were having a great time, singing at the top of your lungs with him like old times, taking shots, taking various pictures and videos throughout the hour, and not once did you feel stiff or feel any tension. Soon the songs started to slow down, making the dance floor scarce. Daniel and you were still dancing as if no one was watching, but in the meanwhile, gradually getting closer to each other.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as his arms were wrapped around your waist, moving along to the beat. You were trying to look anywhere except for Daniel's eyes, which were glued on you. Soon, his hand lifted to your face, gently lifting your face up to him. As soon as you made eye contact, you could have sworn either Cupid shot you (and or Daniel) in the ass or you were drinking too much cause the way he was looking at you made you feel like you shrunk two sizes. Blushing, you were drawn into his beautiful brown eyes. You saw the same glint in his eyes that you saw when you first reunited. Despite the club having different colored lights everywhere, you could make out the emotions more clearly than ever before; admiration and lust.

As you looked into his eyes, you could feel those same feelings coming to the surface, or maybe it was the liquor coming to your mind. Apparently, that was clear to Daniel as well. "You are so damn gorgeous," Daniel whispered while looking back and forth between your eyes and lips.

"Danny, you're drunk." You said, trying to excuse his words and make the moment less

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I don't know a beautiful woman when I see one. One especially that makes me feel…I don't know how to describe it but just know that I love how you make me feel nonetheless." Daniel finished as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"And hopefully soon, you'll feel it too." He muttered in your hair.

Taglist: @triscillal @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @sheinthatfandom @zatarias-pandora @jess95laugh 

[astrangetorpedo]

CATHERINE MARKS: BOYGENIUS, MANCHESTER ORCHESTRA, AND FINDING EMOTIONAL FREEDOM

by Daniel Gumble | 4/22/24

Award-winning producer Catherine Marks sits down with Headliner to reflect on a whirlwind start to 2024, the magic that went into boygenius’s the record, and how her enduring relationship with Manchester Orchestra has taught her the importance of unlocking true “emotional freedom”in the studio…

“It’s been a crazy start to the year,” Catherine Marks exhales as she joins us via Zoom from her London home on a bright, early-Spring morning in late March. “I keep thinking it’s September or something.” In reality, it’s a month to the day until the 2024 MPG Awards ceremony, which will see Marks fighting on three fronts for a trio of highly coveted gongs. This year she’s up for Producer of the Year (an award she won in 2018) and Mix Engineer of the Year, while the record by indie rock ‘supergroup’ boygenuis, produced by Marks, is shortlisted for Album of the Year. Taking place on April 25th at The Troxy in London, the night will provide the Australian-born, London-based producer a rare moment to reflect on what has been one of the busiest and most fruitful spells of her career so far.

In the first quarter of 2024, she’s been hopping between continents to work across a number of new records, while also squeezing in a visit to the Grammys and the Resonator Awards, where her work on the widely lauded the record was deservedly recognised. At the Grammys, boygenius won Best Alternative Music Album, as well as Best Rock Performance and Best Rock Song for Not Strong Enough, while the band themselves presented Marks with the Powerhouse Award at The Resonator Awards in recognition of her work on the album. “I definitely felt like I was invited to the cool kids’ party by accident,” she laughs.

As those who have spent time with Marks will attest, she is excellent company. In conversation she is entertaining, thoughtful, and insightful, not to mention generous with her time, as evidenced by her almost apologetic disclaimer at the start of our conversation that she is battling through illness to talk to us. Still, she’s happy to speak at length about the year she’s had and what’s been keeping her busy in the first quarter of 2024.

“I started an album at the end of December with a band called Divorce and the day after we finished, I flew to LA, and the Resonator Awards were the day after that,” she says. “It was this intense period, and I don’t feel like I’ve really taken stock of that week in LA and meeting all those amazing people. And having already done a full album, it’s crazy! “It’s been a real whirlwind.”

The recognition Marks has received not just in the US but around the world for her work with boygenius certainly appears to have shifted the dial on her career. She was already a highly sought after, multi-award-winning producer and engineer, having cut her teeth with studio icons Flood and Alan Moulder and cultivating a client list that includes, to name a few, the likes of Foals, Alanis Morissette, Wolf Alice, Frank Turner, The Big Moon, and Manchester Orchestra, with whom she has become a regular collaborator.

We were both holding back tears… it was one of those magic moments.

However, when three of indie rock’s most celebrated songwriters, Phoebe Bridgers, Julien Baker, and Lucy Dacus decided to join forced under the boygenius moniker, few could have predicted the extent of acclaim and success their debut album the record would achieve. Their self-titled 2018 EP was met with critical acclaim, but offered little indication that their first full-length release five years later would go on to top multiple charts, scoop a raft of awards, and make the upper reaches of countless 2023 album of the year lists.

The iconography of the trio also elevated the record beyond the realm of the side project. From the album artwork, through to their already legendary take on Nirvana’s 1994 Rolling Stone magazine cover, which saw the band kitted out in pin-striped business suits, everything about the project felt synonymous with a bona fide band, rather than something that existed on the periphery of each member’s full-time solo career.

“They wanted me to mix their first EP, but the timings didn’t work out, as I was working with Manchester Orchestra,” Marks explains, recalling the origins of her relationship with the group. “And they reached out to me because of my work with Manchester Orchestra. There was a lot of mutual love and respect for those guys. But I had a meeting with them via Zoom and that was the first time we’d seen each other’s faces, and that was when we spoke about making an album together.”

While the ‘supergroup’ concept that shrouds the boygenius project is something that Bridgers, Baker, and Dacus were acutely aware of, Marks says that there was no discussion of the matter in the studio. As she puts it, the sessions were very much akin to recording a band, as opposed to three solo artists coming together.

“I don’t think that the ‘supergroup’ aspect was ever a real consideration, as they are all just really great friends and love each other very much,” Marks affirms. “As far as songwriting is concerned, they had written individually but had also gone away to work on them together before we started making the album. They treated it very much like a band where three people were bringing songs in, and they were critiquing each other’s music and lyrics. There was a lot of collaboration.”

Despite the collaborative spirit that fuelled the sessions, the task of weaving a cohesive whole from three distinct creative voices was one that hung heavily on Marks’s shoulders.

“We all knew it had to be a cohesive album,” she states. “That was something that was on my mind, but I don’t think it was ever articulated. Somehow the aesthetic of the album feels really consistent, yet each of their individual identities still shines through. It weighed heavily on my mind, but through the power of magic it turned out to be a cohesive record [laughs]. A lot of the other collaborators and musicians that worked on the album also helped to create this consistent sonic thread that runs all the way through it.

“We spent the first three- or four-days doing pre-production and working out how wanted everything to feel, so we were collectively conscious of making sure there was a flow to the album,” she continues, describing how they set the tone for the sessions. “We had a ‘wall of dreams’ that we would throw ideas at and we would write down particular influences and then see if there were other songs that fitted that aesthetic. There were relationships and interconnections between each song. That’s something I do on other records too. But they were so militant I don’t think they would have let anything veer off track.”

They were the toughest customers I’d worked with. I underestimated the challenge.

When reflecting on the most memorable moments shared between herself and the band (“there are too many to mention”), Marks is reminded of an especially poignant moment shared with Dacus when working on one of the album’s many highlights, We’re In Love.

“Lucy and I arrived the night before everyone else to start work on the album, and she played me this song,” says Marks. “There wasn’t really a structure to it, but there was this stunning, gorgeous melody that I was so moved by. Throughout the course of the time we were at the studio she carried on working at it. I had been saying I think it absolutely needs to be on the album, but it doesn’t feel finished yet. So, she worked really hard at it and performed it for me, and I thought it was beautiful.

“Anyway, on the day that we ended up recording it, it was still light outside and it was just her and I in the studio, and she played it just on the acoustic guitar in the control room. I had a couple of mics set up, and there was this beautiful light streaming in, and you can sort of hear at the end she chokes up, as I did. We were both holding back tears… it was just one of those magic moments. It was all about the performance, not recording the guitar and then adding the vocals over the top. She just put everything into this performance, and it was magical. That’s a really strong memory. But there were so many of those moments.”

As to whether or not the sessions offered any indication as to the rapturous response the record would be met with upon release, Marks takes a moment to consider her answer.

“I mean [pauses] it’s been next level,” she says. “I knew it would be significant. There are moments when you think back and get butterflies, like, I’m really a part of something special here. So, there is a kind of instinctive but intangible knowledge that you’re working on something special. And they are incredible characters. They are three of the best songwriters that exist today, so something had to go right!”

In looking back at the process of making the record and the spotlight it has drawn towards Marks and her oeuvre, our conversation gravitates toward some of the other records that have moved the needle on her career.

“Every record feels like that,” she states. “One of the most significant moments was engineering the Foals record (Holy Fire, 2013) with Flood and Alan Moulder. I was known within the industry from assisting in studios, but the success of that record put me on a lot of people’s radars. It was the next step from engineering into production on a commercial level.

“And there have been moments like working on Wolf Alice’s first EP (Moaning Lisa Smile, 2014), The Big Moon’s first record (Love In The 4th Dimension, 2017). And all the work I’ve done with Manchester Orchestra. I love working with them, and it seems like every band I work with LOVES Manchester Orchestra. My relationship and work with them has allowed me to learn so much and has enabled me to work with so many other artists.”

Marks’s work with Manchester Orchestra has undoubtedly been one of the defining features of her career. After producing the US rock outfit’s fifth album A Black Mile To The Surface (2017), she has become a regular and much loved collaborator, yet the harmonious relationship that has flourished between band and producer since was initially born from more tempestuous circumstances.

“On the first record we made together we were really at loggerheads,” she reveals. “They were the toughest customers I’d ever worked with. I underestimated how much of a challenge it would be. It was their fifth record, and I thought they’ll be very well versed in the process of making album, and it’ll just be really enjoyable and different to a lot of the first album projects I’d been working on. But I was really wrong, because they were putting so much pressure on themselves to make it the best album, they’d ever made, otherwise they were going to stop what they were doing. I didn’t anticipate that. Also, they are really polite, so it took about two weeks to get to the bottom of what needed to be done, and that really opened the floodgates.

“The way we communicate is so much freer now, which means it’s more about the creativity and the collaboration rather than the psychology. There are no minds games or personality challenges, we just accept each other for who we are and want to make amazing music.”

As we bid our farewells and allow Marks to return to nursing herself back to health before another imminent trip to LA to produce the new Rise Against album in April and another Manchester Orchestra record starting in May, she is keen to point out that those early moments of friction can not only yield positive results but can be essential in unlocking a project’s potential.

“I actually encourage that kind of discourse in the studio,” she signs off. “I want people to feel free to be however they want to be in order to express themselves. There should be chemistry and conversation. And those little tussles you have can reaffirm what you believe in. Obviously, I wouldn’t encourage aggression, but frustration and anger can be a part of that, and there is something exciting about that level of emotional freedom.”

(x)