#Danny's symbol is a new calling card for those in need

[dcxdpdabbles]

The Adoptive Son. Part 4

Dick struts into Crowne Co. main office like he owns the place. He has shaped his civilian persona to be a watered-down version of Brucie Wayne, so he winked at the receptionist and offered a kind smile to the employees wandering around.

The receptionist, a lovely man named Ace, waves him to the elevator without pause, pressing the button and allowing Dick to go to Crowne's office. Danny Crowne's main office was its own floor complete with five corner desks, a joint conference office, three stylish comfortable couches, and lots of open space filled with potted plants.

Only someone with the highest clearance levels was allowed in there. Dick had been made to wait in the lobby by Ace., The first few times, he came to visit Crowne. Thankfully, his presence is so commonplace now that he was allowed in without signing in.

The elevator's door close, blocking out all noise but the soft, classical music Crowne was rather fond up. His fake boyfriend seemed to swing from one music genre to the next with little sense. He could listen to an instrumental waltz, switch to punk rock, fall into the country, and finally go to pop within an hour. Dick can tell what kind of day Crowne is having based on the elevator music he has playing.

Since it's Mozart No. 13, Crowne is likely dealing with a stressful day. Likely trying to clean up a mistake made by an employee.

It was a good thing on the one hand- Crowne would be too overwhelmed to keep a proper eye on him. But it made Dick worry against his will. Crowne tended to work himself into a frenzy and often forgo his well-being if it were not for Tim or Dick telling him to rest.

You don't have time to worry about the trafficker. Dick tells himself as the elevator rises up to the top floor. You have a mission to complete.

He's carrying a take-out order to surprise Crowne with lunch. That's his cover store, at least; if things go according to the schedule they managed to hack into, his fake boyfriend will be called away for a meeting.

Dick will claim that it's fine. He will spend ten minutes reading a book he's left in Crowne's office and "fall asleep".

During that time, Bruce will hake into the cameras in Crowne's office and play a loop of him napping on a couch. In reality, Dick will be going through the office to find any kind of evidence. It's been almost five months since he took on this assignment, and he barely has anything to show. Bruce was becoming impatient.

Thankfully, little Damian kept most of Bruce's attention. The little eight-year-old had been the surprise the three main Justice Leaguers had found at Nanda Parbat. All those years of Dick complaining about Talia al Ghul being evil were true.

She had done something terrible to Bruce without his consent, and Damian al Ghul had been the result.

Then, Talia planned to raise her son as the next heir for her father's league until Bruce convinced her that Damian deserved better. Now Damian was at the manor, slowly unlearning all the terrible habits installed into him from birth.

He had attempted to fight Jason for his second son position, but Bruce had put a stop to it by claiming Jason was a new recruit, and that must have meant something to Damian because the kid backed off.

Now, Damian stuck to Jason's side like a small shadow, watching and learning everything he could. He seemed to adore Jason and looked up to him like the other boy was his idol.

Jason was over the moon about having a baby brother, deciding he wanted to teach Damian proper English- the young child had been learning but struggled a bit- and read him a bedtime story every night.

Dick wished he could claim the same regarding his younger brothers. But sadly, he and Jason did not have the best relationship due to Dick's horrible temper. This, in turn, made little Damian weary of him, keeping a safe distance whenever Dick came over to report on his undercover mission.

The door to the elevator opens, and Dick comes face to face with Crowne, rapidly typing away on his computer with a mantic glint in his eyes. He's got all three desks covered in piles of paperwork and four chalk boars with various colored writing.

Oof, it's worst than he thought.

This looks like it was a level 10 mess. In the five months that he has dated Crowne he's only seen a 10 twice.

Dick clears his throat hoping to break Crowne from his trance. It doesn't work, not that he's surprised. Carefully placing the take-out bags on one of the couches, he struts over and gentle taps one hunched over shoulder.

Crowne eyes swing to him, his entire expression brightens when he realizes who it is. "Hello Darling. I'm sorry I didn't hear you come in"

Dick's heart flutters at the word of endearment. He takes control of the reaction by channeling it into making his eyes soft as he leans down for a kiss. Crowne meets half way, melting against Dick like he's not used to being desired.

It's so adorable that Dick allows the kiss to linger longer than normal. He pulls back, smirking at the red cheeks and a slightly dazed expression on Crowne's face. He never gets tired of putting that particular look on Crowne.

"It's alright, I can see you're busy. My fault for dropping in unannounced, but I was in the neighborhood, and we could have lunch together." Dick tilts his head "If you have time to spare".

Crowne looks very remorseful. "I'm so sorry, darling. I have a meeting about the new cellphone models, and I just found out the model is having issues. The batteries are blowing up while the camera feature is either freezing the whole processor or just breaking down the command. I don't have much time today for lunch"

Dick knows it's part of the plan, but he can't help but be sad they can't spend too much time together. It's done wonders for his undercover job as Crowne nervously plays with a pen, apologizing again for his workload.

He shrugs, offering to wait for Crowne with the prepared excuse. The other man brightens, promising to finish as soon as he can. Dick walks over to grab his book as Crowne returns his attention to his screen, typing even faster.

He's never seen anyone that could type as fast as Crowne, not even Bruce or Babs. The fact Crowne created his working computer from the processor to the modified keyboard meant very little.

Crowne typed on any computer as if he had lessons from birth and not learning alongside the rest of the world when computers started getting more popular. Dick still knows many people who prefer paper and pens to have to press keys.

"You won't be alone for too long," Crowne calls, eyes never leaving his screen as his fingers fly over the slightly curved keyboard "Tim will be here in half a hour. You two can spend time together"

Dick forced a smile "Sounds great"

Just great. Drake's arrival would limit his snooping time. Recently he's noticed the younger boy always seemed to insert himself between Dick and Crowne. Alfred had laughed when he reported this slight mishap claiming that he would get the same complaints from Bruce a few years ago.

Back when Dick would try to scare away Catwoman or Talia.

Dick knows that different. He is trying to stop a legit trafficking ring and doesn't want to have some adult time with Crowne. Bruce should have not been looking for a stepmother for him, especially with those women.

Not when Clark Kent was literally right there. He'll convince the old man of this someday.

"Tim looks up to you. He makes inquiries about you often." Crowne continues. His more formal speech means he is slightly nervous. Dick's lip twitches into a smile as his face turns red; simultaneously, his posture straightens. Another give. "I was wondering if you would like to do an event with him."

"A event?"

Crowne pauses, then in a forced calm voice, he says, "I have a side project that involves some of Gotham's youth. The kind of youth often overlooked."

The warm feeling crumbles in Dick's chest. Quickly he double-taps his recording bracelet. This is it. The first real sign of Crowne's side business. He has finally been let in on it.

Dick is going to be sick.

"I wouldn't mind. This project..what is it?" Dick asks carefully, standing up and sauntering to Crowne. He swings his hips a little too much, but it is just what the other man likes as his eyes finally leave the screen and lock on his strut.

He leans on over the desk, smirking as Crowne fumbles in front of him. He's adorable-

No. He's easy to trick.

He sells kids. Dick needs to remember that. His treacherous heart still speeds up.

Crowne stares at him with a slack jaw, and it strokes Dick's ego fiercely. He waits a few minutes, but when all his fake boyfriend does is gawk, he leans closer. "Darling? The project?"

"Oh! Oh yes, of course," Crowne jerks in place, quickly pulling open a drawer. He presses a button inside the drawer- Dick makes a note to check that later- and a side compartment opens. He pulls out a small black notebook with a green ghost flying around a white D on the front of it.

Dick recognizes the symbol. It's the same one that a few street kids passed to Jason a few weeks ago. Jason had gone in as Robin- the more beloved Robin. Dick hates to admit it, but his brother has a better connection with the people of this city.

The street kids said that if you showed this symbol at secret meetings, then you would get supplies and support at said meetings. The thing was, most of the younger kids did not come back from the meetings.

They weren't taken by force, but after a third or fourth visit, they agreed to go with the men and women passing out the resources. Batman had yet to pin these meetings down since they were using vans and popping up randomly throughout the city. They would tear down and be on the road long before the morning light graced the sky.

Crowne flips through the book landing on a page and pushing it to Dick. "I am opening a gym for youth. I was thinking of advertising it as gymnastics and aquatic sports. I know you've dabbled in them before and was wondering if you would teach a beginners class?"

Dick reads over the page. It's like a mind map of a gym, with ideas and more accurate details circled and connected in a giant web. None of it seems sinister.

None of it seems well organized either, but it's wild and brilliant just like Crowne. Why did this man waste so much talent on crime? Why couldn't he be the perfect partner he was pretending to be?

"Where did you get this notebook?" He hears himself say, eyes tracing the beginner's trapeze and beginners Aerial silks with question marks hungrily. He's never thought about teaching his skill, but being surrounded by eager children looking up at him to learn of his family's legacy...... makes him yearn.

When his fantasy turns to the horde of children calling him dad and then running around Crowne calling the other man father, that desire is pushed to the furthest part of his mind.

He won't give in to them. Maybe he would one day find someone to settle down with. One day the Flying Graysons will grace the skies again. But they will never carry the Crowne name.

"A kid sold it to me," Crowne says with a confused tilt of his head. "I was walking through the street vendors festival, and he had a blanket covered in different notebook designs. He didn't pay for a table, and he was a bit away from the entrance, but he was doing his best. I bought eight of them. You should have seen the way his eyes lit up."

Dang it. Not a confession. Not even anything he could use to tie Crowne to the symbol.

The other man raises a brow "Why do you ask?"

Dick smiles with enough heat he practically undresses. Crowne predictably goes beat red at the sight. "I like the design. Wanted one for myself."

"I...I have the young man's contact information. If you desire it, I could purchase some for you?" Crowne melts, pulling on his collar.

Alright. Maybe the kid will be willing to talk. "That would be lovely. You know what else would be lovely?"

He rounds the desk, his lips pulling into a slutty smile. Placing his hands on each arm rest he leans forward, trapping the other man in his office chair. Crowne swallows. "What?"

"You, me, and a hotel room all to ourselves." Dick's voice turns dark with sinful promise. Crowne lips tremble, but he nods.

"I....I've never been with anyone before" the other man confesses and Dick feels a wicked amout of want. He wants to be the person to show him. To teach him. To make his first time so special and wonderful and-

The elevator doors dig open. Drake hopped in, using clutches, and shouted proudly, "I broke my leg!"

Crowne pushes Dick away, rushing to the boy. "Ancients! What in the world happened!?"

"I got mugged on my way to the library!" The boy says it's the greatest thing to ever happen to him.

"That's not a good thing, Tim!"

"It's okay! Robin and Sparrow saved me! It was so cool!" Drake swoons. "I don't know why they were out so early, but they swooped in and got the man who broke my leg before he could get away. Robin even swung me to the hospital! Sparrow didn't say much besides tsking, but he was cool too!

Dick squishes the small amounts of regret for being Interrupted. He glances at the other two before quickly shoving the black book into his pocket. This may give him more answers. They need to see if they can spot that symbol anywhere in the city.

Damian still needs to be discovered in the media. Bruce had decided to keep him hidden in the manor to build a better introduction. Which means they have the perfect candidate to try to get a in at the meetings.

He must close this case before his rapidly developing feelings get in the way.

Drake spots him over Crowne's shoulders. The excitement on his face dies, as he glares at him. Dick hides a wince. Looks like today will be another, "Stay away from my big brother" day from Drake.

"Thank goodness the vigilantes were near you." Crowne gushes, brushing the hair out of Drake's face. He places a kiss on the bruised forehead.

Drake's voice turns hard. " Yeah...almost like they were following me."

Crude. He'll have to warn Jason and Damian to not follow him for a while. Again, he curses that Drake is far too smart for his own good.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #the adoptive son #part 4 #Dick is slowly falling. #Tim thought his heroes saved him randomly until he realized #Damian is here now! #Danny's symbol is a new calling card for those in need

[five-rivers]

Beltane

Written for Ectober 2021 Day 1: Trick vs Treat. This is part of the Exhumed series.

.

Danny Fenton walked into the precinct. As often happened when he did this, all attention slowly turned to him. “Hi, Detective Patterson. Have you ever heard of Beltane?”

Patterson took a long swig of coffee through the plastic stir straw, because she felt the need to be at least a little drugged before dealing with whatever this was, and then said, “Is this the kind of thing the whole precinct needs to know about, or is it more specific to me?”

“Mm, not specific to you, but I’m not sure if everyone needs to know about it, yet.”

Despite only select members of the Amity Park police force knowing Danny Fenton had another identity, he’d become a sort of ‘ghost liaison’ for the precinct. Better him than the adult Fentons, who tended to break things even (especially) when they were being careful.

“Actually,” continued Danny, “you might have already noticed some things about it. I mean, it’s seasonal, and Mom and Dad were detecting ectoenergy and ghost activity spikes for events like this before they got the portal up and running. Although, the portal was supposed to stabilize and reduce those spikes… I guess reducing one isn’t bad?”

“Okay,” said Patterson. “I don’t really know what you’re talking about. Do you want me to go find Collins?”

“Oh, that might be a good idea.”

“Great,” said Patterson. She turned her head to shout across the room. “McGee. Go find Collins.”

“Still the new guy?” asked Danny, sympathetically.

“It isn’t like we’re a popular posting,” said Patterson, “and, thanks to the ghosts, we don’t really need new people.”

Danny nodded placidly. “I know. But it must be hard for him, don’t you think?”

.

McGee had done his job. He’d discovered the corruption in the Amity Park Police Department and plumbed its depths. The problem was that he could never, ever, report it. Even if they didn’t have a perfectly good cause for it all, what they were ‘hiding’ (and they were only barely doing that) was so ridiculous that McGee had thought he’d gone crazy at first.

Ghosts.

The whole of Amity Park was haunted. Just like it said in those touristy brochures at the front of the local diners.

He stuck his head into the break room. “Collins, Patterson and Fenton want you,” he said.

“In the normal room?” Collins asked, shoving a sugary monstrosity of a donut into his mouth.

“I have no idea. She didn’t say.”

“Normal room then. Great job, McGee.”

McGee rolled his eyes. Great job, he said. As if he’d done anything.

God. What would Halloween be like?

.

“So, it’s like, reverse Halloween?” asked Patterson.

“Well, not exactly,” said Danny. He patted Daisy, the department mascot slash corpse sniffing dog who had followed them into the small interview room, gently on the head. “Actually, there are more similarities than differences. Basically, like Halloween, we’re going to get a spike in ectoenergy. Maybe even some ectoplasmic storms. More portals. That kind of thing.” He shrugged. “Most holidays and seasonal divisions have them, you know.”

“So… we’re getting Halloween round two?” asked Collins.

“What do you bet that this is what gets McGee to snap?”

“He’s been here since December,” said Collins. “I think he’s too stubborn to leave.”

“Is he still spying?” asked Danny.

“No,” said Patterson, waving a hand. “He gave up on that, after a while. But there’s a new office bet about whether or not he’ll stay stay, or if he’ll decide to quit. We’re not allowed to join in because we know him too well.”

“Mm,” said Danny.

“I don’t actually know if I feel like I know him that well,” said Collins.

“Well,” said Danny, “it shouldn’t be as extreme as Halloween. Since, I mean, there aren’t as many religious holidays directly associated with death and stuff happening on or around May first. So. Yeah. But the thing is, there are some traditional, er, activities. Spirited activities.”

Collins suppressed a groan, and was glad that Captain Jones wasn’t available today. He and Danny could sling puns at each other for obscenely long periods of time.

“I’ve never noticed ghosts doing anything on May Day,” said Patterson.

“This is only the third year anyone’s even acknowledged that ghosts exist,” said Danny, “so I’m not really all that surprised. But the reason that I came to talk to you guys is that some of the ghosts want to do Beltane stuff. Like the fire blessings. Also, I’ve been told that some of the trees in town are secretly ghost trees, and if we don’t want to deal with another tree army, we need to do some stuff to appease them.”

“Secret ghost trees.”

“My source is very reliable,” said Danny. “Also, while I say ‘we don’t want to deal with it,’ I think we all know who’d be dealing with most of it.”

“You would,” said Patterson.

“Got it in one. Like, I can convince most of the ghosts to either do their Beltane stuff in the Ghost Zone, or somewhere out of the way. They’ll be disappointed, but I can do it. The ghost tree thing, though…”

“Can’t we just, I don’t know,” said Collins, “get rid of the ghost trees?”

“Well, they aren’t really evil ghost trees. Or even really ghost trees. They’re more… ghosts that live in trees?”

“What, like dryads?” asked Collins, raising his eyebrows.

“That’s what I said, but they’re different species, apparently.”

“Okay,” said Patterson, “so. Appeasing the trees. How many trees are we talking about here, and how are we going to appease them?”

.

“Okay, so, this is definitely a whole precinct kind of thing,” said Patterson.

“And possibly an ‘all civil servants’ type of thing,” added Collins. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where are we going to get the funding for this?”

“Oh, don’t worry about money,” said Danny. “I’ll just blackmail Vlad, and if that doesn’t work, I can get Mom and Dad to pay for it.”

“What,” said Collins.

“I think this might be a bit beyond your parents’ budget,” said Patterson, “but knock yourself out as far as Masters goes.”

“Well, I guess if it is,” he allowed, dubiously, “I could get the cults to pitch in?”

.

“This is nice,” said Danny. The sky was a bit overcast, which was a shame, but the hundreds of bright flowers and cheerful music more than made up for that.

The May Day celebration was, in Danny’s opinion, a success. At least, this half of it was turning out to be. He’d have to wait and see how the Spirit Bonfires went tonight before he could really make a judgement.

He’d only had to blackmail Vlad a little, too. It turned out that the ‘ruthless businessman’ in Vlad was ludicrously easy to manipulate, and once Danny brought up how a celebration like this one could revitalize local businesses and bring in tourism, he’d caved.

Although, that might have been the threat of an angry tree army. Vlad had definitely come off worse for wear in the last one, on all fronts.

Then, publically putting the Phantom Stamp of Approval (and Necessity Given The Potential Angry Tree Army) on the event had gotten buy-in from his fans and (sigh) the cults. The cults were, in fact, very enthusiastic about their new Holy Day. Danny had made a map of all the places they’d set up booths, and was studiously avoiding them.

Sam and Tucker were doing a walkthrough of that area, now, to check for problems and unadorned thorn trees. They’d arranged to meet up soon.

So, Amity Park was decked out in ribbons and flowers. All of the schools had gotten Maypoles and the day off of classes. Several bands, both human and ghostly, were playing in different parts of town.

It was chaotic, but great.

Danny briefly cut into the street to dodge a pair of college-age men play-fighting with tree branches (a genuinely important tradition symbolizing the battle between winter and summer), then walked through a wall to avoid two ghosts doing the same thing.

Finally, he reached Madame Babazita’s table.

“Hi,” he said, “three readings, please.”

“Three?” she asked. “Just for you?”

“My friends should get here before mine’s done,” said Danny. Was he channeling some predictive powers? Maybe. Holidays did make his powers weird.

.

“I have no idea what your reading is saying,” said Madame Babazita, after fifteen full minutes. “The cards simply aren’t speaking to me today. Also,” she held up an Uno card, “I’m not sure how this even got here.”

“That’s okay,” said Danny, “I just wanted to make sure it was the same as last time.”

.

“Hey! Phantom!” called Ember across the crowd of ghosts that had gathered in the cemetery. Most of them were fire or nature themed. “You’re in for a treat!”

Danny, who had been examining the flowers left on his grave, looked up. “I am?”

Ember draped her arm around Danny’s shoulder. She’d been a lot more friendly with him since the corpse incident. “Sure are.” She stepped up onto the surface of his memorial, pulling him up behind her. Danny shook off a brief chill and looked around.

Ghosts were streaming into the cemetery from various directions, bringing armfuls of flowers with them. Danny could see two, huge bonfire piles of flowers growing near the cemetery gates.

“Are there going to be cows?” asked Danny, who was still fuzzy on the details of the ghostly side of the celebrations.

“I don’t know,” said Ember. “When I’ve seen this done in the GZ there are. Here? Who knows. Maybe we’ll just walk through.”

Danny nodded, unworried. Beltane sure was an interesting holiday.

The last armful of flowers was placed, and every flower in the cemetery caught on fire at once. Including the ones on Danny’s grave. Danny yelped, jumping into flight. As an ice core ghost, he vastly preferred cold to heat.

This went without saying, but fire was very hot.

Ember grabbed his foot, and he almost kicked her. “You knew that was going to happen,” he accused.

“Sure did, babypop,” said Ember, grinning. “Come on, don’t you want to pass through the bonfires?”

Danny eyed the very large bonfires on either side of the cemetery gates. They were lit up with sparks like fireworks, shifting like flowers blooming and withering and blooming again. They were beautiful and impressive, and Danny felt like melting just by looking at them.

“I don’t know…” He wanted to, but… melting…

“Well, if you want to go out the other way and be horribly unlucky for the next year…”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “Is that another trick?” he asked.

Ember’s grin grew wider, and she took off towards the gates. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Danny sighed and followed her.

.

“Unbelievable,” said McGee. “Absolutely unbelievable.” He gave the elderly cultist a boost into the wagon.

“I know, right?” said Patterson. “All this property damage and a low-key kidnapping,” she gestured to the hapless late night partier who had called the police when the cult got too insistent about their message, “and they didn’t even have the good drugs?” She shook her head. “Not that we ever arrest anyone just for drugs in this town.”

“I did not just hear you say that,” muttered McGee.

“We’ll make an Amity Parker out of you yet,” said Collins, heartily, slamming the back door of the wagon. He thumbed the button on his radio. “Any other disturbances?” he asked.

“No, you’re good to come back,” said the dispatcher.

“What I don’t get,” said McGee, leaning against a nearby wall in a moment of weakness, “is why we aren’t breaking up whatever cult thing is happening in the cemetery.” They’d seen it quite clearly on their way here.

“Because those are ghosts,” said Patterson.

McGee took a deep breath. “The ghosts are having some kind of ritual in the cemetery, and you aren’t worried.”

“Not really, no.”

“I hate it here,” said McGee.

“Do you, though?” asked Collins, sounding genuinely interested in the answer.

McGee opened his mouth to snap back that, yes, he did. But…

Hm. Huh.

Collins patted him on the back.

#danny phantom #ectober #ectober 2021 #ectoberhaunt 2021 #ectoberhaunt trick #ectoberhaunt treat #ectoberhaunt day 1: trick vs treat #fic #fanfic #exhumed

[tumbling-darkling]

Midnight Hang-Outs

This is a small crossover between Danny Phantom and DC! (Specifically Danny and Harley Quinn!) Following the prompts from Day 11 and 12 - Midnight and Scars (more of mentioned than revolving around it) Harley might be slightly ooc because I don’t read a lot of DC comics but maybe consider it more of like AU Harley Quinn. Mother hen. She feeds the vigilantes of Gotham on slow nights.

Harley glanced over to the boy sitting next to her on the rooftop of the Gotham Bank, she had been planning to break into it to draw out some fun with any nearby vigilantes but instead she had spotted the scrawniest looking glowing teen she’d ever seen. Well he was the only glowing teen she’d ever seen, but the poor kid was struggling against some freak in a white suit.

He had already devoured about 10 of the breakfast sandwiches she bought from a nearby 24 hour fast food joint, she couldn’t remember the name but her pal, Jeremy, always worked late shifts and gave her most of the grease filled wraps for free. Which she got a total of 20 and was beginning to worry that it wasn’t enough for this endless void. She thought she could calculate this kind of thing better based on Batsy’s kids, then again none of them had powers. That must be the factor throwing her off.

She glanced over him again, taking in his features for probably the hundredth time since she spotted him. White hair that gently wisped around his face like he was constantly underwater, pale blue-green skin with neon green freckles that sparkled like stars in the night, toxic green eyes that matched the freckles, flecks of blue hidden within the irises that shone in the right light. He hand pointed ears and little baby fangs, and his suit itself reminded her of the superheroes she’s faced before, but the material seemed all wrong when she got a closer look. It wasn’t spandex, or that thick armour like fibre that Batsy likes to use. She didn’t know what it was made out of. That flaming looking D was enough to hint at a superhero gig, like Superman and that ‘S’ on his chest. She didn’t care that it was supposed to be a symbol for hope, his name was Superman and that thing was an S, end of conversation.

The kid had taken off those gloves in order to eat, she didn’t blame him though, eating with gloves on was weird, and those white gloves would stain like a motherfucker. What caught her attention about it was the scars. Little one littered this kid's hands, and then there was a ligament scar coating his left hand. It was the brightest of all the scars, glowing slightly a wicked green as if he was still being electrocuted.

She turned her gaze back to the streets below, “So, what are you doing out this late?” She asked, avoiding sensitive topics like the scar. “It has to be way past midnight at this point.”

The kid glanced over to her, then shrugged, “had to chase Boxy all the way out here, the dude flies fast for a ghost obsessed in boxes.”

Harley glanced back over, noticing the kid now had finished the last of the sandwiches as he looked in the bag for more, shoving the garbage into it once he confirmed there was nothing left, “Boxy? Was that the freak in white?”

The kid shook his head, “nah, that was a government agent. G.I.W, or the Guys in White. Must’ve followed me, cornered me after I was already exhausted from chasing Boxy all over town. Boxy is the Box Ghost, blue ghost dude in overalls, fairly harmless but he can be a pain in the ass when he wants to be.”

“Want me to blow the rest of those agents up for you?” Harley asked, leaning closer while flashing a sinister grin.

The kid jerked back, “no! No it’s fine, just caught me off guard! I can handle them just fine, you don’t need to blow anyone up!” He squeaked out quickly, wildly waving his hands around. Harley couldn’t help but grin at the display, he reminded her a lot of Batsy’s kids. Energetic, good hearts (most of the time), think they can handle the world.

“So are you one of Batsy’s kids? Harley voiced her thoughts.

The kid blinked owlishly at her, “Batsy’s… you mean Batman? The Batman?”

Harley shrugged, “yeah, Batsy. He has quite a lot of them so I like to try and stay updated when he gets a new kid. You almost fit the bill, young teen, dark past, though the powers would be new.”

“How do you know I have a dark past?”

“Well, you said you were a ghost, right? Meaning you died and judging by your age, died before you even finished high school. I’d call that a dark past,” she kept out the lingering question of how he died, that wasn’t something you exactly ask someone when you first meet them. “So you aren’t one of Batsy’s kids?”

The kid shook his head, “nope,” he popped the p, “never even met the dark knight before. I barely visit Gotham, well anywhere if I can help it, I try to keep my problems in my home turf.”

“I see, you know what, I should’ve known better. Batsy would never let his kids run around this late anyway,” she hummed. “I did once see him chew a Robin out for fighting crime past his curfew, it got me arrested for sticking around to watch but boy was it worth it!” She laughed. She was surprised that Batman hadn’t gotten to this kid yet, anyhow. He didn’t always stick around Gotham ever since he joined that hero club, but that just meant that this dude had even more of a chance to find this kid. Must be dumb luck or something.

“Batman puts curfews on his sidekicks?” The kid asked, mouth agape.

“Well duh, the guy is all about the well-being of his kids. He has a no killing rule but he gets close to breaking it when one of his kids gets almost killed. He keeps them well fed, makes sure they sleep, I know because I can hear him from across rooftops at times and I fight enough of his kids to notice they aren’t skin and bones like you.”

The kid looked down at his ungloved hands, and she noticed him tracing the pattern of the ligament scar lightly with his other hand. His expression changed as he seemed to run through a series of thoughts before he spoke again, “why did you help me?” He asked, not looking up to meet her eyes, “you are a villain, right? You fight Batman and Robin, and other superheroes too if they face you. You know I’m not a villain, you said so yourself. So why help me? Wouldn’t it be better to just let a vigilante kid get knocked off so you don’t have to deal with him in future crimes?”

Harley felt her heart shatter, who the fuck hurt this kid like this? “I’m not some heartless bitch,” she said in a matter of fact tone, “you and all the teen sidekicks or vigilantes out there are still fucking kids. I have morals, and some villains don’t have the same morals as me, but seeing you getting kicked around by some freak in an alley where no one could see you? That kind of shit rubs me the wrong way. I fight teen heroes from time to time because I know they can handle it, they can fight back and I myself won’t stoop so low as to kill them if I manage to get in a few lucky hits.” She lightly nudged his shoulder, “and it’s not like you’ve personally wronged me or anything. I felt like being nice, helping out. You seem like a good kid, so why not help you out? Maybe one day I can call a favour and you can distract Bats while I kidnap the president?” She joked.

The kid looked up suddenly, sending his hair in rippling waves as he was giving her a wide eyed and the most worried look imaginable. She couldn’t help but let out another laugh, “I’m joking!” She clarified. “But I think we could have some pretty interesting game nights with Ivy. Not illegal game night, more like Uno or something. Maybe just a little gambling.”

The kid relaxed again, “well… uh… thanks. For helping me. And the food. And talking,” he rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at the sky.

“No problem, be sure to come visit again. Hey, maybe I can even introduce you to Bats at some point! Make a big show and pretend you are a villain and then BAM! Just kidding he’s just a glowing vigilante I helped out once!” She stood up, stretching her arms a little, “be sure to take it easy on your way to your home by the way, maybe take a nap or something on the way there.”

The kid nodded with a smile and stood up with her, then paused as shock filled his eyes and he spun quickly towards Harley, “Wait- how do you know I sleep-?”

Harley laughed, “well, I don’t think ghosts normally eat, so I’m assuming you sleep too,” she offered a soft smile, “just take it easy, and hey, if you ever find yourself in trouble.” Harley then pulled out a business card she usually kept for shits and giggles, handing over the poorly designed card to the kid, “know that you have a friend in Gotham who’s ready to help. And who knows how to get Batsy’s attention the fastest.” She winked.

The kid took the card, a confused grin tugging at his lips, “thanks. Hey, uh. I go by Phantom. Since I never really introduced myself.”

“Well Phantom, nice to meet you,” Harley grinned back.

#danny phantom #phantom #danny fenton #danny #fenton #ghost #dannymay2021 #au #harley quinzel #harley quinn #dc #crossover #fic #fanfic #fanfics #writing #my writing #fun #sweet #talking #Danny gets adopted #kinda #might be a little ooc #for Harley #I don’t read a lot of dc comics #but I LOVE the idea of Harley feeding all the teen vigilantes she comes across #she’s not the meanest villain #she probably looks at teenage heroes #and goes #who let these babies on the fighting field

[kaysreadingarchive]

Wolves in Sheep’s Clothing: Part 1

Pairing: Jacob Seed x Reader, slightly John Seed x Reader x Joseph Seed

AUs: Omegaverse, werewolves

Warnings: Cursing, mention of character death, guns, mention of violence

 Word Count: 2,952

A/N: Some of you may be asking if I'm abandoning my other work. I am not. I will continue to write for both of my stories I just came up with another idea for Far Cry 5. It's still an omegaverse story because I will forever be obsessed with this au. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, this is sort of a birthday present to me and I felt like we need more things to enjoy now that the world is going to hell and we honestly don't know what's going to happen.Thank you guys so much for being this patient with me and my numerous schemes. It means the world to me! And like always, give me some feedback on what I could do better or what I did alright, where you wanna see this whole mess go, or something you just don’t understand. I also really want to know what your theories are for the coming story. I always love reading your guys' analyses.

Masterlist     Omegaverse rules ---------------------------

When people imagined small-town America, they would instantly think of a tiny general store, maybe a white church. Large pastures that held grazing cattle. Hope County was the very definition of small-town America. It had a tight-knit community filled with very unique characters. Doomsday preppers, anarchists, and conspiracy theorists. It didn’t take long to notice these people. The County was full of them. You knew the moment you stepped into The Hope County’s Sheriff’s Department that things were different in your little piece of Montana.

You grew up in Fall’s End. Your parents lived here, hell, your father was even a Deputy. Your mother ran the Spread Eagle with a close friend Irene Fairgrave. Your childhood was filled with tales from your father. It was mainly him stopping the bad guy and saving the day. You and your mother both knew most of them were fake. Nothing ever happened in the sleepy town of Fall’s End.

The only bad thing that seemed to happened was your mother’s illness. It came in October as simple fatigue. She grew tired more often and she felt pain in her shoulder. The pain got worse as time went on and Aunt Irene finally took her to see a doctor, it was too late. She waited too long. She had stage-4 Chondrosarcoma, bone cancer. They tried chemo but it didn’t take well and she passed away the next summer. Your father wasn’t far behind to say it better. He had a fatal heart attack and died in the hospital.

You were only eleven when this happened. You understood what happened but your growing mind still didn’t understand that they weren’t coming back. You watched them get buried together, but you still held up hope it was a lie. A sick joke. You had nowhere to go so one of your dad’s coworkers adopted you. Earl Whitehorse was roughly in his early forties and all his children had moved out. He bought everything new for your bedroom in his ranch house. You had taken to calling him pop-pop. He really felt like a grandfather to you and he raised you as if you were his own.

When you graduated high school, you knew what you wanted to do. You wanted to be a deputy like your dad. You wanted to make him proud even if he wasn’t here. When you went to the academy outside the county you felt off. All these hotshots in your class made you feel weak. You felt like they pointed and laughed as you walked by. Look at the country bumpkin! There’s no fucking way a farmer could be a police officer! You hated your time at the academy. It felt like no one was on your side.

When you finally graduated it felt like you were on top of the world. Pop-pop came to see you and both of you celebrated by having wings and a beer at the Spread Eagle. Nothing had made you happier when you got your uniform and badge. Rook was proudly displayed on a silver name tag and Staci Pratt became your partner. Staci mainly dragged you everywhere he went, you had no say in the matter.

You got comfortable being his partner. Everyone seemed nice. Especially Joey Hudson who invited you to drinks the moment you closed the door behind you. Her partner, Danny was odd. He seemed very religious, always had a crucifix around his neck. He was very into playing bible music in his joint office. Nancy seemed very motherly. She made a routine of bringing doughnuts into work from a bakery in town. You absolutely loved her for it. You were the first one in the break room as soon as you saw her minivan park.

You shared a tiny office with Staci and he was a mess. His paperwork was scattered everywhere and he always left his empty monster cans on the floor. Other than that, he was only an asshole 70% of the time.

----

Today was a very slow day compared to most days. There was no paperwork to file nor did you feel like sorting the archives for the fifth time. You sat at your desk, playing with a wad of paper. Stacy sat at his desk downing another energy drink while his hands could barely function from the other sugar. It was absolutely silent as you went about your day. Nancy had come in that day with donuts and they were gone, so you couldn’t really eat your boredom away like you usually would. Something felt odd about the silence. It made your insides flutter and sweat began to drip from your (h/c) hair.

Something definitely felt wrong about today. Was there gonna be a big robbery or shoot out? Nah, those things never fucking happen here. A sudden knock on the door startled you from your thoughts. Joey peeked her head through the crack and gave you a smile and then looked over to Staci. He didn’t seem to notice her, stuck in his own world like usual. “Staci!” Joey suddenly yelled. He flinched and dropped his can to the floor. The green liquid spilled out onto linoleum.

“What the fuck Joey!” Staci just looked annoyed as he looked at the now spilled drink. Some of it soaked into his green uniform and pants. Joey held back a snicker as Staci reached for the tissues on his desk as his cheeks flushed red. You had to look away before you burst out laughing.

“Don’t be a damn baby, Staci. Clean yourself up and come meet me and (Y/N) in the lobby. These three weirdos came in asking for a permit to carry and Whitehorse isn’t happy.” Joey looked at you from the doorway and waved you over. You followed behind her down the small hallway and she opened the door to the tiny lobby. You could hear the yelling already. It sounded like Pops and a random male voice.

Pops never really got angry. He had control over his nonexistent temper. If he was really going at it, whoever this guy is must be a prick. There was indeed three weird-looking strangers arguing over the dispatcher desk. Nacy could do nothing but go back and forth between Whitehorse and a wealthy-looking man. His blue eyes were slitts and his beard covered lips were pulled back in a scowl. A handgun was placed on the desk with the safety on.

Two other men stood beside them. One had his hair pulled back into a man bun like a fucking hipster and his lips were pulled into an uneasy smile. The other sent a shiver down your spine and not a good one. He made you feel uneasy as his blue eyes roamed over you and Joey. His red hair was brushed to the side and he too had a full beard. What were these guys? Millennials? The redhead continued to watch you two as you made your way beside Pops, their conversation stopping for a brief second.

Whitehorse took a deep breath in and closed his eyes for just a moment. “I’m sorry, but I can’t validate your permit without a criminal records background.”

The irritated looking of the three narrowed his eyes even more than before. He opened his big mouth but the man-bun stopped him. “I’m so sorry about this sir. My brothers and I just moved here from Georgia and we’re still new to these parts, please forgive us for our rudeness.” The man slowly let go of his brother’s shoulder and pulled out a card.

“This has my phone number and name, I’ll have someone be in contact with you about John’s criminal records background.” He handed the business card to Nancy who looked at it with an odd expression on her face. “God bless you.” All three of them walked out without another word, But the red-haired brother gave you one last look before getting into the white truck outside.

“Do those three give you the creeps or what?” Joey commented as she took the business card from Nancy. She scanned over the info and passed it to you. Joseph Seed, an odd name. His cell-phone number was underneath but what was weird was the symbol in the corner. It stood out with black ink against the white paper. It looked like a cross and a name was underneath it. “The Project at Eden’s Gate, huh.” The name sounded odd on your tongue. It felt uneasy to you. Anxiety began to build in your system at what these men could possibly be.

You had never seen those three before or heard of them. They must have just moved. “Did you say the Project at Eden’s Gate? I know those guys, they bought a run-down church near the Henbane. They call it, “Eden’s Convent”. Don’t know what they want with that piece of shit but they seem to keep to themselves.” Staci’s voice pierced through the silence as he walked in, still dabbing the energy drink on his pants.

Pops said nothing as he lifted his hat and gave his head a scratch in thought. “Whatever they want, they’re gonna have to do it legally. Nacy, keep an eye on those three for me. They’re gonna go snoopin’.” It took you good second to realize he was talking about Stacy, Joey, and you and not the three stooges that walked out minutes ago. What the fuck? Did he not trust you or something? It made you kinda upset to hear someone you looked up to for so long say that. Especially when it was your adopted grandpa.

The anxiety from before slipped away as you forgot about the three brothers as the day went on. It didn’t feel like your own thoughts were torturing you for once. You got a good night’s sleep without any nightmares to scare you awake, but there was still this tugging in your chest. No matter how much you tried to clear your head, it didn’t go away. It felt like something bad was going to happen. Like, really bad.

------

A week went by before the feeling returned. Pops had just pulled into the parking lot when it felt like a stab to the gut. A little voice inside your head was begging you to turn around, but you just ignored it. When you finally got to your desk you locked it away in the deepest part of you mind and filled your fear with a cream-filled doughnut and a cup of coffee.

You slumped into your chair, staring at the computer screen as it took forever to boot up. It felt like it was mocking you by making your day worse. You would look up every once and a while from the screen to the window. Half expecting someone to be there. Only there wasn’t, just fields and cows. Before you knew it, it felt like tie was passing at the speed of light. 8 A.M. became 10.

“-N)... (Y/N)! You awoke with a yelp and glared at Staci. He hastily took his hand away, as if you were going to bite his fingers off. You had considered it many times, with him being such a fucking asshole. There deserved to be less of him.

“What Staci? What the fuck do you want?” You rubbed the sleep away from your eyes as you stretched your legs in your uncomfortable chair. You hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep. Staring at absolutely nothing was hard work.

“The old man wants us to check out a disturbance at the Spread Eagle. One of the guys from a week ago is harassing everyone.” This was a shock to you. Pops didn’t send you and Staci on any calls before. He says he didn’t trust Staci enough to do his job, but since you were just a Junior Deputy, you couldn’t do it by yourself.

“What about Joey and Danny?” Weren’t they capable enough to do this? Joey was good at her job, but Danny was a different story.

“They’re on another call.” You only nodded and gathered your stuff. You put a can off pepper spray into your belt. You couldn’t have a gun, but Staci could. You had wondered what idiot gave him the approval to carry a deadly weapon. You had wished in the past that whoever they were, they were in jail for giving out false permits.

“Alright, let’s go.” You both walked out of the station and made the small walk to the Spread Eagle. Staci opened the door and the bell rang. Both Mary May and one of the brothers, the rich looking one, turned towards both of you. Mary May looked pissed and the Seed brother only smirked when he saw you two walk in.

“Really, Mary? You called the police on me? Haven’t I’ve been a decent customer?” His tone was cocky as he sat back in one of the stools. His expensive-looking coat was tossed over the bar and his tattooed hands were gripping onto a stack of contracts. His hands crumpled the papers as his smirk widened. His mouth said one thing but his eyes said another. He looked like an absolute asshat. A spoiled baby. It made sense now, this little shit wanted a fucking audience. He was a god damn performer.

He gave you an uneasy feeling just like his redheaded brother. But it wasn’t from being uncomfortable, it was the feeling of dread. Like he could crush your puny existence with the snap of his well-manicured fingers.

“My normal customers don’t threaten me! You’re not getting this fucking bar, John. Now, why don’t you hightail it out of my town before Widowmaker runs your ass over.” Mary May wasn’t someone to mess with especially when she had her mom’s temper. Maybe that’s why Irene and your mom got along so well.

Both of them had pictures on the counters behind the bar. A vase of fresh daisies was next to them. When you saw the picture, it felt like she was still here protecting you. Like a guardian angel.

When you were trash as a deputy, you thought of your dad. He would be so proud of you, you just knew he was with mom. Where ever they were, they were happy. It still felt so fresh and to have someone like John Seed try to tear that away from you made you feel as angry as Mary May.

“Let’s not get too hasty. How about I add another zero to the offer?” John pulled out a checkbook from his pocket and started to write. Your eyes started to get wider as the number got bigger. This guy must have been loaded. Great, a rich and spoiled scumbag.

You also noticed the symbol from before, the cross, was on the checks. But, instead of the name John Seed, John Duncan was printed on them instead. What the fuck was going on? It felt like a big conspiracy theory was unraveling and you had to know the truth.

The name Seed was something that made you feel sick. It sent shivers down your spine and your forehead broke out into cold sweats. It felt like you were doubting yourself when you heard the name. Like was a lie. It made your anxiety flare up again and it constricted your lungs. Were you going to have an anxiety attack in the middle of a call? Just your fucking luck.

“For the last time, I don’t want your fucking money!” Mary May hiss and brought a pistol out from under the bar and sat it right on his papers. John’s brown hair stood up on the back of his neck. He glared down at the contracts and brought the papers up to Mary’s eye level as he ripped them clean down the middle. He stood up from the stool, grabbing his coat jacket and stuffed the pieces into his pocket.

A voice yelled from above as the sound of boots stomping on wooden stairs echoed in the now silent bar “Get out of my bar, Seed. Go home and cry to Joe and Jake and tell them Gary said fuck off.” Gary Fairgrave walked down from the apartment above the bar, a shotgun in hand. He pointed it right at John. His nose flared out in rage as he stepped back out of Gary’s line of fire.

His blue eyes seemed to switch to something darker, something red. You blinked and the red was gone. His eyes were blue once again but filled with more anger than you’ve ever seen in a person. His neck took on a deep shade of pink that worked its way up to his cheeks. It looked like he was gonna pop a blood vessel.

“Woah, we don’t need anyone dying here.” You finally stepped in while Staci stood there with his mouth hung open. John looked over to you and his blue eyes softened just a bit before going back to glaring at Gary.

“You’ll regret this Fairgrave.” John stomped to the door and slammed it shut behind him, almost breaking it off the hinges. His threat sounded real. Not like the bluff most people gave. It wasn’t an empty threat. You just didn’t know him at all, you couldn’t tell if he would act on it. As if you didn’t find him creepy enough, he was making googly eyes at you. And the red eyes didn’t help either. You tried to tell yourself it was just a trick of the light. Like a camera flash.

But deep down you knew it wasn’t a light trick. This was real and it already felt like hell.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #reader #reader insert #joseph seed #john seed #jacob seed #omegaverse #werewolves #jacob seed x reader #joseph seed x reader #john seed x reader #faith seed #cursing #mention of death #guns #mention of violence

[writehardwhumpharder]

OC Drabble - Fight (Carson vs. Street thugs)

Warning: Violence and LGBT hate

You wouldn't think so by how little he went, but Carson absolutely loved going to the movies. Something about the big screen standing against the pitch dark of the room, the near deafening music during intense scenes. Too bad Daniel didn't have as good of a time. Looking over, he noticed his friend was still a bit pale. He insisted that he liked horror movies but Carson was having his doubts now.

"Too gory for you?" Carson asked. The question was genuine, not some silly attempt to tease him.

"Eh there were a few parts that took it too far. The human body isn't supposed to do that, its... unsettling," he said as they walked side by side back towards their apartment building. It was cold out at this time of year, too cold to be walking all the way home. But Carson and Daniel were New Yorkers, and New Yorkers don't waste money on cab fare just because it's a little chilly outside.

"Did you really not bring any gloves?" Danny asked incredulously. Carson kicked at a mound of snow instead of answering. "You're gonna lose all your body heat that way, even with your enchanted coat. By the way, when am I getting one of those?"

"I could do the symbol work over the weekend I guess." Carson said.

"Well in that case, I might be feeling generous enough to give you these," he slipped off his gloves and grabbed Carson's open hand to deposit them into. He opened his mouth to protest but Danny cut him off. "Put 'em on before they get cold."

Knowing that any gift from Danny was non-returnable he gave in quickly and slipped them on. Carson had to suppress a satisfied smile at how toasty warm they were as well as roomy, since Daniel's hands were so much bigger than his.

"Well isn't this cute," someone sneered from behind them.

Danny and Carson stopped to turn around, surprised to see not one, but five thugs standing behind them at the mouth of an alley.

"Is there a problem here?" Danny asked firmly.

"Yeah there's a problem. We got a couple a fags walking on our streets. You two came to the wrong neighborhood." The guy in the middle said. Carson noticed an obvious lack of teeth when he talked.

"Well if you would just-" Danny started. Carson threw an arm out in front of him protectively.

"Your streets huh? I don't see your name on it. Oh wait, there it is, my bad," Carson pointed to the large lettering on the side of a dumpster that said "trash". He smirked at the furious look on the thug's face.

"You little-" The guy lunged forward, only to be stopped by one of his buddies.

"Hey, Jim, hold on a second. Money first, beating second." The other guy said. Apparently they did this often enough to have a routine.

"Just let us go and we'll be on our way," Danny insisted.

"Let us go? They'll be lucky if I let them go." Carson growled through clenched teeth.

The group of thugs erupted in laughter, "Aw is your little girlfriend going to protect you?"

"Carson, it's not worth it." Danny whispered, grabbing his sleeve. Carson jerked his shoulder back out of his grasp.

"Worth what? This'll be easy." Carson spat.

Daniel's heart started to pound as he recognized the look on Carson's face. He was angry, dangerously angry. Anything could happen when he got like that. Unlike these thugs, he knew exactly what Carson was capable of, and he was worried.

"I don't know what you plan on doing but assault is a crime, remember? You could get arrested for this kind of thing."

"Don't worry about it. I have eight more get out of jail free cards." Carson said.

"Eight?! What happened to the other two?!" Danny exclaimed, grabbing his head in frustration.

"If you two lovers are done flirting we'll take our money now." One of the thugs piped up.

"No, we're gonna fight first." Carson snapped. He skipped the deflective "oh we're not actually a couple" speech and got straight to the point. "If you have a problem with gay people then I have a problem with you. Since you're too thick to get that through your head then allow me to speak your language." Carson cracked his knuckles in an effort to look menacing. Truthfully he was a little nervous, he was never very good at fighting. Even with magic backing his blows he needed to land one solid punch for it to be of any use to him.

Finally the guy in the middle, Jim, stepped forward to accept his challenge. Daniel still stood behind Carson feeling powerless over what was about to happen. Even though their insults were really directed towards him, the only gay guy here, violence wasn't the answer.

Carson put one foot forward and kept his arms up high in front of his face. He cleared his mind for ultimate focus, going into a weird state of calm compared to his previous blind rage. After making it look like he was going to let Carson swing first, the thug moved at the last second, blocking his fist and making contact with Carson's face. It was a hard blow and from a terrible angle. He paused to spit some blood onto the pavement only then noticing the tooth the went with it. Fuck. Daniel's eyes widened. There was cheering from the thugs, cheering that abruptly stopped when Carson made his move. Jim let his guard down for a second, thinking he'd won the fight but Carson hadn't even started yet. He gathered power in his fist, and though his punch was weak, he backed it with the force of a speeding truck. He didn't stand a chance. Everyone watched as their leader hit the ground like a sack of bricks. Knocked out instantly.

"Anyone else wanna go?" Carson asked while leaning over the unconscious man. The remaining thugs glanced at each other, unsure of what to do. When they didn't answer Carson laid a hand over the guy's bloody face, assessing the damage to make sure he hadn't done more than he intended. Concussion was a definite yes but other than that he was fine.

Before standing up again Carson plucked his tooth out of the red-stained snow, cleaned it off, and put it back in his mouth. Yes, back in his mouth. He used magic to fuse the blood vessels that held it in back together. Then to show off his handiwork he gave them all a bloody grin. That's what really did it. The group quickly grabbed their leader who was still very much unconscious and ran the opposite direction.

Carson looked at Danny for the first time after starting the fight, he looked mad.

"Why did you have to do that?" He yelled.

Because they were making fun of you, Carson thought in the back of his mind. "They were assholes, I wanted to teach them a lesson. Also I have three hundred dollars in my pocket so now isn't really a good time to get jumped." Carson explained using every reason but the real one.

Danny sighed deeply and stared at the ground looking conflicted, "Whatever, I'm not even gonna... ugh. Next time we're taking the taxi." He said.

"Actually let's call that taxi now, I'm a little tired," Carson said as he sagged against a wall.

"And whose fault is that?"

"Theirs?"

"No!" Danny snapped. As annoyed as he was, he still walked to the edge of the curb and hailed a cab.

#whump #OC drabble #I don't know why I wrote this #Carson being protective #fight #magic #blood #hurt #anger

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

my life story - part 50

Since there wasn't going to be any help for me being able to lose weight like a normal person, I started popping diet pills constantly. I found some cheap stuff at Canned Grocery Outlet and I just kept pounding down those capsules, they were oddly powerful for a cheap brand. It seemed to help with me losing more weight. I remember the taste of those particular capsules. The gel they were made of had this slightly salty taste and they would stick to your tongue at first. I would swallow them down, and then about a half hour later I would begin to feel the effects of a pounding heart and a need to go out and do more exercise. It helped me drop a little bit of weight here and there for the remainder of the summer, and it was helpful to have them, since every time I felt hungry, discouraged or empty inside, I could just pop one of these pills and my outlook would get a bit brighter. I think it developed in me, a way of consciously finding external ways to keep things in check.

I wrote this poem near the end of that summer, I think I called it The Rose at Emily's Windowsill  or something like that. It was basically about this girl who was never courted and so she instead dedicates her life to her garden, and she gets older and older and the only rose she ever gets is one that falls by her window. I don't have a copy of it, but I remember later learning that there was a song on the album Oracle and Odyssey by The Zombies written back in the late 60's that has a very similar theme, with a rose, a girl named Emily, and dying alone. The song is much better than my poem was – my poems were never decent. The thing was, I had never heard The Zombies 'Rose for Emily' nor did I know who The Zombies were, and wouldn't be discovering them for several years to come.

This, along with a few other lucid things that came upon me throughout my life always gave me this superstitious suspicion that ideas exist in some kind of cosmic soup and we can feel things and find things in that soup that others have left by others, this strange soup we all share is where all ideas exist before they are conscious, sometimes perhaps even that our ancient ancestors left behind ideas. It's like some kind of library that we all draw from. It's hard to explain, and it's just a  theory. I am not saying things for sure work this way, or that I even believe in it myself wholeheartedly. But there are certain elements of art and story that keep coming up with all people throughout all ages, certain coincidences, certain symbols. It's somewhat mystifying to me. Creativity is very strange and mysterious.

I had started working on one of the best art projects I had up to that point ever embarked on. Basically, I had uniquely strange and cheaply made doll house that you could look into from above. There wasn't really a true upstairs or downstairs, it was all in one story. Their were bedrooms and a kitchen, a checked tiled bathroom, and even a garage. I don't know where Allison got this dollhouse, but she was never the type of girl who played with dolls, and she agreed to give it to me. I had all these plans for the dollhouse. Basically, I wanted to make it a loony bin murder house. Over the course of that summer, I would sometimes work on it. I ended up getting a lot of cheap dolls at the Good Will that were just magically perfect for what I had in mind. Each room in the house was set up as a stage for something gruesome or disturbing. I used a lot of paint and splatter to make it look like murders were being taken place. I gave the dolls knives, and of course, the kitchen sink had a hand in it, and the refrigerator had a human head. It was all too perfect, and I still don't know how I was able to get lucky enough to get all the props I wanted.

I was going to set up murder scenes, as well as many other disturbing scenes – some of them being more abstract and surreal like a David Lynch film. I intended on even repainting the faces of the dolls and giving them new looks. I was going to make this murderhouse something I focused on, maybe for a year or more until I got it just right. There was even a point where I cut my finger while cooking by accident. Yes, I ended up using that blood as a part of the murderhouse, as the stains on a wrapped up dead person. It was the first time I had felt inspired to do something of this scale. And then sadly, I came back to my mom's house one day, and it was gone from the place where I had it set up. I looked around, and eventually asked my mother. She had thrown it away because she thought it was disturbing and disgusting. Once again, I cried at the loss of my art project that I was incredibly dedicated to, but there was nothing I could do to bring it back, and it just went into the bag with so many other disappointments in the end. I have sometimes thought about trying to make another one, but the right kind of prototype for a dollhouse that would work, as well as the dolls to go with, simply haven't come my way ever since. I suppose someday, if I ever have a lot of time, I might try something like that again.

I had scoped out three records at Hastings that I really wanted at the time, but given that all my money was going to be tied up in getting gas money to go to and from school each day, I didn't have any money for anything I ever really wanted. I was low on clothes, I had a very small record collection. I was living off borrowed everything. I scavenged through my mother's old things just to find old half used lipsticks and a bunch of beauty supplies she had bought and half discarded back when she had first gotten her divorce money. I really wanted Live Through This, by Hole, London Calling by The Clash, and The Velvet Underground and Nico album. My mother had this big container shaped like a Budweiser Bottle, and after bartending each night she would empty all of her loose change into it. She saved it up, and then played darts with her boyfriend Danny with the money. I always felt that it was a tremendous waste of money, and I would often times wish that she would pay me for babysitting. Yes, the job wasn't the most difficult. But babysitting had caused me to miss out on many adventures back in the days when I had had friends. It seemed unfair that she gave no appreciation or compensation for what I was doing, that I was making it possible for her and my father to work as much as they did.

So, eventually, the impulse became too great for me to withstand. It was the day that I knew The White Stripes would be playing at the Gorge, and I decided to dip into her oversized piggy bank bottle. She had no idea how much money she had in that bottle, and it turned out being over 100$ of change. I took about 30$ of it, went out and bought myself those albums, which I never once regretted. All three of those albums became some of the most important albums I was able to get my hands on as a young person. She asked me about a week later if I wanted to count the money in the change jar for her. She trusted me as most people would since I wasn't a thief (my two older sisters had stolen thousands by the time they were my age), and I have always been known as the type of person that really does enjoy sorting out small parts, categorizing, filing, and organizing things in a specific way. She was happy to hear she had 70$, she had thought she had had less than that. So I got away with stealing in this instance.

This isn't to say I am go around stealing from others by any means, or that I have no respect for the human contract of not taking from one another. But it is to say that, when faced with a problem in life, I don't always rule out doing something a person is not supposed to do. I think this little situation proved as an example of how I see a lot of things. My parents code of conduct and their personal system of living with other people outside of work has always been an opportunistic one. In fact, even though my mother and father are very different, if you get to know them, they are both very similar in their bordering on criminal mindset of what they will do if they can get away with it. I am trying not to use the sensitive artist card here either, but they really and quite mindlessly took advantage of me for being trusting and easy to bruise, for years. Neither one of them cared about my future, regardless if it was one of a creative person or becoming the checker at the nearest gas station. They simply had no interest in anything about me that wasn't involved with them in some way. If it didn't involve them personally, than it basically did not exist. It's fair play to take what you need from a system that takes the same from you, as long as you don't get greedy about it or dumb in what you think you can get away with. You have to keep yourself in check to make sure you don't end up too much like them. But under some conditions, it's actually in my opinion a far greater stance of morals to know that what you take will have a greater impact in the long run.

Everything seemed to be going well at the Nyes, but my mom and her boyfriend Danny were getting more serious at the time, and I guess he had encouraged her and all of us – at least on weekends to come live in his cramped one room little house. This meant we would have to move out of the Nyes. She took him up on it – maybe perhaps hoping he would marry her or decide to be our new dad. I personally liked living at the Nyes and I was sorry to have to leave, but she was smitten with the opportunity to be with Danny and there was really no going back in her mind. Though she sometimes would take David along with her when she visited Danny, generally speaking we never really saw him too often. We were part of two separate worlds. I think it's one of those common things where a single guy doesn't like the idea that a women either has children – with some other man no less, but also that these kids taint the woman's sense of loyalty to him in someway, or devalue her as a person. It's incredibly unfair, but all too common. I've heard a lot of men talk down about women who are single and have children.

So, my mother packed up her life and we all moved out of the Nye's place and to Danny's small home. It was very small. Most of our stuff got put back into storage, and in some respects, it always felt more like indoor camping to me. Our food was always separate, and our sleeping areas always on the living room floor. Danny was absurdly proud of himself. He had a fairly nice computer compared to the one I was used to at home. At home at my father's we still had a Windows 98. And he had bought some kind of program for downloading music. He spent a ton of money on this program and it wasn't very good. In fact, I just didn't really grasp the concept of what an mp3 even was at the time, so I sort of silently dismissed it when he first told me about what he had. Danny was very much a man who cared about owning things. He had been a spoiled child, and had grown up to be very much a spoiled man. He had a strong obsession for owning things – even when he didn't need them. He was very proud of owning a 50,000$ pick up, and a high end expensive motorcycle. He would buy new game consoles just to own them. He never once used most of them. On his refrigerator he had pictures posted of Catherine Zeta Jones, he would often make rude remarks about how my mother was ugly compared to Catherine Zeta Jones. He would watch American Choppers all day, or some really bad short lived Comedy Central stuff.

So when I showed disinterest in downloading music from his music downloading program, or ungrateful that HE was allowing me to use his computer at all, he got kid of insulted. My mother and him made this big deal about how rude it was for me to dismiss his music downloading program, and so I had to apologize and get interested for their sake. Danny was one of those people who always needed his inflated ego stroked. Which turned out being a big thing for me, and something I spent much of my time doing at Danny's. This was how I eventually found a considerable number of bands that I had never heard of before, Screaming Trees, Blondie, Gary Numan, Pixies, The Kinks, Bjork, and quite a few others, though I will say that the search engine wasn't very good on this program and also there were quite a few things I tried to like, that were actually quite terrible and there was a lot of music I should have thought to look up and didn't. I also ended up downloading some GG Allin, and Charles Manson. Mostly, I did this because of the fascination I had with things that were so far into the messed up that I was curious about what they sounded like. GG Allin started off making childish punk music, and eventually started to express himself with more filth and vile disgusting behavior, forget lyrics later on in his short lived career. At the time, I wasn't fully aware of all his behavior – I didn't happen to know that he raped women and young girls constantly, or that he fowled himself on stage or anything like that. For reasons of his clear psychopathic tendencies, and because his music doesn't resonate with me, I have long cast aside his music, or his contribution as a whole, and he deserves to be forgotten rather than revered. I like weird things, but I will never go so far as to condone that kind of destructive mentality for the sake of itself.

As for Charles Manson. I probably wouldn't have had so much against his music in all honesty – as I like weird tiny folk music (I really enjoy the song Nothing, by the Fugs) if he wasn't who he was. I didn't mind his songs honestly, though I didn't think they had what it took to really be in the same level as most of the acts during the 60's. I don't feel badly for being honest on this regard, as many people have been quick to discredit his strange short lived musical career on account of the murders later on – Neil Young also thought he was very interesting musically when they met in the mid to late 60's. Ultimately though, Charles Manson's musical career – though it will never truly take off in any way I am sure now, should probably be forgotten as well. I am as guilty as anyone for focusing on serial killers and dictators and their deeds and legacy. I really am. I do feel like I am quite emotionally stable about it, as I am never for a single second glorifying what happened. I have a pretty level head when I read or look up documentaries and so forth. I look back at my own youth, and I think given the proper circumstances, I could have been one of those girls that lived with Charles Manson – had I been found at the age of thirteen. Zack, though by no means was he ever Charles Manson, was someone I mindlessly worshiped in much the same sort of way. But we should all try to not give these kinds of sick people that kind of thing attention. It gives into what they like, and it encourages the rare types of people who are on the brink to follow in the footsteps of these monsters.

Syd Barrett was also someone I started listening to a lot. And it was funny, because about three days after I had become really obsessed with his solo music, he died.

I ended up going to my first real concert that summer, quite late, about a week before I started at my new school. I know that I had gone and seen Metallica and Godsmack, but that in a sense had been a concert very easy to take myself out of, even when I was into that kind of music. It was an enormous stadium, and I hadn't really ever felt apart of that music. And I had seen a few live concerts, but I found that most of that wasn't all that much fun. More effort, understandably on the bands part, was to make families feel good on their few days off, something to take the kids to, like a BBQ. Most local bands didn't want to challenge or disturb their audience, else they would probably lose all their gigs. So I didn't feel all that involved with live music. But CKY was in Spokane, WA – just a two and a half hour drive up north. This was Sarah's favorite band, not mine – but I was eager to see them as well. I had listened to their albums a hundred times by that time, and it had forged a place in my conscious as being something I really got into. It wasn't something I would naturally have been into, as it was a bit heavy for me. CKY was a very melodic band however, and they were very far from having the same cliché sound as other bands. It was a bit like mixing a metal band with something melodic and ethereal like My Bloody Valentine. We were both quite eager to go. It felt like it might actually be one of the most important things that had ever happened to us. Sarah in particular was so obsessed with CKY that it was hard to imagine they were real people who existed.

So, Sarah convinced her mother and her grandma Tutu to take us to Spokane. It was to be a sort of shopping trip for the older two. When Sarah and I showed up a few hours early at the venue, it was almost too much, and I was a little frightened of actually seeing any of band members in person. What if I had to say hi?!. Their tour bus was right there. We both lingered fearfully around it. Then, the guitar player of the band, Chad I. Ginsberg came out, and he was incredibly friendly. I used to have this enormous crush on him, as he looked mildly like Kurt Cobain, if Kurt Cobain had black hair and a black beard, and walked around like a friendly little biker. Chad was so incredibly friendly that he almost seemed more eager to meet his fans than his fans were to meet him. He specifically liked Sarah and I. I guess it was because the other few people who were there were kind of difficult to talk to. I remember this one guy just kept saying 'Your CHAD! YOUR CHAD!' over and over.

Sarah did most of the talking I don't think I ever said anything to him. I think he may have asked us what we wanted to hear, and I think I recalled an obscure song on a rare album that most people hadn't heard, and he laughed and said 'we'll see'. Sarah brought a camera, and she ended up getting a picture taken with him. I was incredibly shy, and felt I needed to get away to process just meeting someone I was a fan of and the shock of it, but Sarah pushed me to take a picture with Chad as well. Someday I will post these pictures, as Sarah has them, and I do not.

I also noticed too that the band members didn't actually seem to like each other very much. You imagine sometimes that a group of traveling musicians are friends, but often times it's far more professional and distant, or very often, they used to like each other, but now they can't stand each other but are locked into this band. The singer was kind of a jerk. He walked around nearly constantly in a state of criticizing everything. He looked at his fans with a sort of arrogance. Which did not really bother me too much, since I had just met Chad, who I was in a daze at that moment and thought I might have been in love with. And honestly, CKY at heart was always Sarah's thing. Darren's opinions didn't really mean much to me.

We got into the front of the pit. I had never been in the very front of a standing concert and I was a little bit in shock at how close it was. The crowd was mostly all guys. The two opening acts were kind of a bore, just typical metal music. But I did admire that the bassist of the second opening act was this really lovely woman. When she walked out on stage, the entire crowd sneered at her. It was pretty pathetic. The entire time she played, they called out to her to show her tits, or women didn't belong on stage. It was incredibly disheartening. I made a point to smile up at her. Privately I didn't enjoy their band at all in any way, but I wanted her to know that she was at least doing this for someone. I realized pretty quickly that while I didn't hate CKY for it as a whole, I did and still do have a sort of distaste for the average CKY avid fan. The singer Darren was really negative and he put that out a lot on the internet, and the entire scene for some reason had a gravitational pull for sexist fucks who wanted to be just like him. When CKY came on stage, there were suddenly guys everywhere, and the pit was packed. You could feel these creeps using their proximity to Sarah and I to cope a feel, some of them having boners poking us in the back. I don't know what it is like to be a guy, but seriously, why? It was pretty disturbing actually, but there wasn't much you could do about it.

Chad ended up just looking at Sarah and I the whole time. We were both euphorically excited about it. I guess that was just something he does. He picks one or two people and just pretends to be playing to them exclusively. I think he also ended up playing the song that I suggested. Darren didn't like it, but Chad had him do it anyway. It was very clear on stage that the two of them hated one another. It was pretty silly looking back, but we really thought we were quite special. The fact that there were hundreds of people there, but both Sarah and I had been singled out made the two of us feel like we had something about us that other people didn't have and that people like Chad might be able to see that. Really, it was probably more circumstantial in the moment. Getting attention from famous people is no measure of anything really. After the concert Sarah and I were in a daze for quite some times. And it propelled us even further to starting a band, hopefully sooner rather than later.

My sixteenth birthday was upon me, and it was a year that I didn't end up getting much – at least anything concrete. My father gave me one hundred dollars, which I spent on school clothes. I decided I was never going to wear jeans again. I felt like jeans were very unimaginative, and they always seemed to rip. I switched all my pants to colored corduroy only – the tighter around my leg area, the better. I tried to have kind of a soft grunge look about me, long before I think soft grunge was ever a realized thing, though I didn't end up exemplifying that fashion all too well, as I didn't have the guts to wear a dress still, and I didn't have enough money to buy anything I actually wanted.

By this time, about a week before we were to start school, Sarah had been given the car to drive all we wanted. So about a week before school we drove around constantly just for the sake of doing so. Sarah almost got into a car accident one night. She wasn't driving terribly. Sarah was always a very responsible driver, but she had gone when she wasn't supposed to. It was probably the only time that I ever saw her make a driving error. I was in a ridiculous mood, and started singing Christmas songs, so Sarah quickly got a stereo to play so that I didn't resort to that anymore.

At around this same time, Sarah's mom decided to buy this old rundown building downtown on Main street and turn it into an antique – second hand shop. She didn't have very much money, but she was now in her fifties and it was becoming hard to live on manual labor. She liked antiques and had collected a lot of stuff that she kept packed in the spare rooms of their house. She barely had any money to buy the place, but she made do and took the loan out and made it happen. The building had been a popular gas station back in the fifties, but had been long neglected. The back part of the building was used as a car shop. It was right near where Sarah's stepdad had his shop, and Carol wanted to fix it up and sell antiques down there. Their hope was based on the fact that there were many rich older types who liked to drive out to these small towns during the weekend to go bargain hunting at the small local antique shops. And aside from that, Jim (Sarah's stepdad) would fix cars in the back part of it. So quite often, Carol would be found in the shop rather than anywhere else, though I think she also was fixing rich people's homes in the hills on occasion, as the money was too good to resist.

I was still playing guitar everyday, but I felt very stuck and disappointed. I didn't feel like I was truly getting any better after a time. I continued to practice what I had learned, but I needed something new. I needed some guidance or help, but when I asked people what I should be doing next, they just sort of shrugged. I felt like I needed some more technical understanding of music – something bigger to play off of. I needed some things to practice that would make playing better in general, and at the very least, less repetitive and more fun. I needed help playing in rhythm. I could play all the chords, but that was mainly all I could do. I might have also been struggling because I was a left handed person playing right handed guitar, and I my hands were the same size they had been when I was twelve and possibly younger. Most great guitarists have large hands. I have very small hands, and my reach was understandably limited. None the less, I really intended on finding a way to learn this instrument. I just lacked some guidance – guidance I wasn't going to get. My father didn't know how to play much better than I did – though he had a way of concealing that for the most part – and knew a few more tricks than me. So when I asked him, he would get kind of annoyed because he himself didn't know either. But rather than tell me that, he instead tried to make me feel small. And he wasn't about to let me know any more than what I did know. The idea that I would surpass him at guitar made him insecure.

So, one day I talked to him about it. I was hoping for some kind of support, even if it was just empty words of encouragement. I would get this panicked horrible feeling that I would never learn to play, and there would go my future. I know I was pegged as a loser by the teachers who knew me and such, but I've always been someone who has planned ahead, at least to an extent. The idea that the future would be vague and without purpose, that adulthood would be monotonous empty tasks done on repeat with the strong sense that life was being drained from you everyday, and you quietly and subtly forgot everything that had magic in it as a younger person. It was really too much to handle. I wanted life to be ready for me when I go to those points. And it seemed more important to me at least, that a person be in touch with themselves and who they were than it was that they have a college degree, or that I get married, have kids or even have a job. It was more important for me to be able to express myself and have a free mind. It wasn't as important as air, but it was close. And to me, learning to play guitar represented that somehow. It started off with me attempting to be cool, but it really became a symbol for me. Playing guitar was defying societal expectations, but not being so brought down by society that you couldn't dare to have goals.

So I asked my dad, and he gave me this cold weird look. He then basically told me that since I had not mastered guitar as of yet, than I never would be good at guitar. You either automatically get it or you don't. According to him, this was just something 'all guitarists knew'. It was too late for me, I was not a 'natural' – was how he explained it. He attacked what little I could play after that, commented on my poor plucking skills, my small hands. And he kind of made it out to seem that I might as well quit. I don't know why I drank the kool aid. I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach, and I was sort of stunned. I walked up the steps to my bedroom and I just sort of fell apart. I felt shaky and weak. I guess internally, he had confirmed the negative things I had already suspected of my capabilities. I continued to play, but it was never the same after that. Every time I picked up the guitar, I would think of myself as unfit and I would stop. I swear, my fingers felt like lead when I tried to play after that. It just wasn't happening. So I sort of stopped. I would pick up the guitar often on, but I didn't let my father see me, or anyone. I felt like he had done something to me psychologically that made it hard for me to want to play around other people.

So, the first day of school was upon me and I was waiting around in the late morning for Sarah to pick me up, in her new/old car so we could drive up to Moscow to go to school. I was pretty nervous, and didn't know what to expect. As I sat outside waiting, petting a neighbor cat, this yellow pick up with a back on it stopped by my house. I had seen this guy's vehicle around town. He had a veteran sticker on the back. He stopped the pick up and got out. I was a little confused. He walked right up to me and just started commenting on my appearance. He basically told me that I had 'gotten' attractive, and would be hot, if I didn't dress like a punk. What's absurd is that other than having red hair dye, I was just wearing a regular band t shirt and mint colored corduroy pants. I was sort of confused and lost as to what this guy was saying. He was half inviting me to hang out with him, and also cutting me down for not looking attractive enough, but saying I was at the same time. It was extremely unnecessary. It was a moment I wish my father had seen, as he would have surely come out and taken care of this.

I was more defensive than I was offensive. It was one of those moments that me screaming and throwing stuff at him would have been called for. I was passive aggressive, and he eventually drove away. Eventually Sarah came and picked me up and we headed off to school.

Part 49 - http://tinyurl.com/ydbpgkqw

PART 48 - http://tinyurl.com/ydcn5uuu

PART 47 - http://tinyurl.com/y8xyogl9

PART 46 - http://tinyurl.com/ybqoxned

PART 45 - http://tinyurl.com/y94784tz

PART 44 - http://tinyurl.com/ydfpbzxt

PART 43 - http://tinyurl.com/yckvswd7

PART 42 - http://tinyurl.com/ycnng83q

PART 41 - http://tinyurl.com/y84kmttv

PART 40 - http://tinyurl.com/y8aj6kmq

PART 39 - http://tinyurl.com/y97vprft

PART 38 - http://tinyurl.com/ycr7la8q

PART 37 - http://tinyurl.com/y8trssqd

PART 36 - http://tinyurl.com/y9ygq9q8

PART 35 - http://tinyurl.com/ya5xhe2f

PART 34 - http://tinyurl.com/yc6y4p69

PART 33 - http://tinyurl.com/y87449dz

PART 32 - http://tinyurl.com/ycetanep

PART 31 - http://tinyurl.com/yae3o4rd

PART 30 - http://tinyurl.com/ybht9aul

PART 29 - http://tinyurl.com/ybfcr9j2

PART 28 - http://tinyurl.com/yagdlo47

PART 27 - http://tinyurl.com/ydcj5fgf

PART 26 - http://tinyurl.com/y73nvl73

PART 25 -  http://tinyurl.com/y6v6pgoj

PART 24 - http://tinyurl.com/ycak5d8r

PART 23 - http://tinyurl.com/yac6sk3g

PART 22 -  http://tinyurl.com/yat6cfnw

PART 21 -  http://tinyurl.com/y783egno

PART 20 - http://tinyurl.com/y8jskymt

PART 19 - http://tinyurl.com/rfhbms8

PART 18 - http://tinyurl.com/ycrznrwk

PART 17 - http://tinyurl.com/y77unlng

PART 16 - http://tinyurl.com/yadpsv8c

PART 15 - http://tinyurl.com/yb3lt6k5

PART 14 - http://tinyurl.com/yb4cfedq

PART 13 - http://tinyurl.com/yalanq9s

PART 12 - http://tinyurl.com/yc79mw94

PART 11 - http://tinyurl.com/yc9qhj84

PART 10 - http://tinyurl.com/yb734w24

PART 9 - http://tinyurl.com/yc2t6vfw  

PART 8 - http://tinyurl.com/ybl37utq

PART 7 - http://tinyurl.com/ybvo283g

PART 6 - http://tinyurl.com/kbc9dwu

PART 5 - http://tinyurl.com/msnz4am

PART 4 - http://tinyurl.com/k9x8esg

PART 3 - http://tinyurl.com/mwp9atx

PART 2 - http://tinyurl.com/lbt6xq2

PART 1 - http://tinyurl.com/l8xbvg8

#text

[theabominableblogger]

Rewatching “Batman” (1989)

Decided to rewatch this classic before I watch the new Justice League movie that’s out this week

I, for one, am so glad Danny Elfman brought the Batman theme back into “Justice League”

*jams out to the Batman theme*

JACK NICHOLSON

Billy Dee Williams!  And he’s only in it for like 5 minutes

Jack Palance! 

Oh my gosh, I forgot Prince did music for this movie

Aaaand it’s the Batman symbol!

Matte painting!  Matte paintings everywhere!

Why do they always portray Gotham as freaking packed?  I know it’s supposed to be a bustling metropolis but this is too much.

Why yes, random family, let’s take a shortcut through a shady ass alleyway.

What the...

Batman, brought to you by American Express

*Batman floats down behind the robbers*  Eeeyyyy!!

*Batman gets shot*  Welp, he’s dead.  End of movie.  Cue end credits music.

Gotta take your sweet ass time revealing your cape...

He raises his arms so high in the air in order to do it.

“I want you to tell all your friends about me.”  “What are you?!?!?”  I’M BATMAN! DAAAA NA NA NAAAA NAAAAA

Lando?!?

Mayor Borg?!?!?

“People of Gotham City, I [Harvey Dent] am a man of few words.”  Nah, he’s a double-crossing, no-good swindler.

All righty, unpopular opinion time:  I don’t like Jack Nicholson as the Joker.  I just don’t.  He’s just... Jack Nicholson in clown paint.  Plus they establish him as a character before he becomes the Joker.

Oh, and of course, they name the Jack Nicholson character “Jack”

So who’s the Lieutenant character again?

Heelllooo shady lookin’- oh it’s Jack Nicholson.

Bob the Goon!

Matte painting!

This movie should be subtitled “Matte Paintings:  The Movie”

Oh my God, Lando, what did they do to your hair?

Eeeeyyy!!  Bob Kane!

“Vale, will you marry me [Knox]?”  “Nope?”  “Wanna buy me lunch?”  “Maybe.”  “I eat light!”  Pffftt....

Story time:  the Quidditch coach/captain of the team here at college (who is notorious for being a flirt) asked me to buy him supper one time before practice.  I knew it was a joke but I told him “Nah, you gotta earn it” and I was applauded by the team

Obligatory purple Joker suit!

Obligatory Joker card!

Why is it such a big deal that Jack Nicholson is involved with that one particular moll?

You gotta hammer it in that Jack Nicholson’s gonna become the Joker

Why is there a casino set up in Wayne Manor?

Michael Gough!

Why is Vicki Vale dressed like she’s getting ready to be married?

I like that we don’t actually meet Bruce until like 20 minutes into the movie.  Plus they establish him as a mystery character- technically the main characters at the beginning of the movie is Knox and Vicki and then it shifts to Batman.  And then again, we don’t get a lot of background on either Batman or Bruce.

I never really had time to appreciate how great Michael Keaton is as Bruce Wayne but dang he’s good.  And I love the reasoning behind this casting:  there’s no way he could be seen as Batman and when we do find out, it’s a big shock.

Holy crap, how many cameras are set up around the manor?

Oh my gosh, Bruce has reading glasses!

Sound stage!

FreEEEZZZEE!!!

AN:  I’m only 25 minutes into this movie.  We gots a bit to go because I’m such a motormouth

Boom goes the dynamite!

Yes, let’s have a police shootout in a chemical factory!  Great plan, guys!

Man, Gary Oldman’s Commissioner Gordon would be on the ball when it came to this situation.  Pat Hingle’s Commissioner Gordon just stands around and gives orders

Um, officers, you’re walking into a puddle of toxic chemicals...

In all seriousness though, I want Jack Nicholson’s hat

Never have I seen a smirkier Batman than Michael Keaton’s Batman

Well there’s also Kevin Conroy’s Batman

*Jack Nicholson falls into the chemical vat*  Welp, he’s dead.  End of movie.  Cue end credits music.

AXIS

Why were Jack Nicholson’s fingernails dyed green from the chemicals?  I know it’s comic book logic but still...

This scene in the dining hall is my dad’s favorite scene in the movie.

That is an impossibly long dining table.

Aaww, they’re having dinner with Alfred in the butlers’ quarters!

“Alfred’s great.  I [Bruce] couldn’t find my socks without him.”  Cue in Batman:  The Animated Series, Joker literally cannot find his socks because Harley’s not there.

That is no way to take bandages off properly, Jack...

Mirror... MIRROR!!

“You see what I have to work with here.”  Yeah, those are some shitty surgical tools there, buddy.

Oh, throw that shoe, Bruce

“Who the hell are you?”  “It’s me [the Joker].”  *sings* IT’S MEEEEEE

“Jack?  Jack is dead, my friend.  You can call me.. Joker!  And as you can see, I’m a lot happier!”

This freaking circus music though

*Bruce and Vicki cuddle while sleeping*  Cue Bruce going “Aw man, I can’t enjoy spending time with this awesome lady because I gotta brood, man.”

WHY IS HE UPSIDE DOWN?!?!?

WAIT ‘TIL THEY GET A LOAD OF ME!

Why the hell is Jack Nicholson dressed like that?

What kind of hand buzzer is that?!?

HAVEN’T YOU HEARD THE HEALING POWER OF LAUGHTER?  NOW GET OUTTA HERE!

YOUUU... ARE MY NUMBER ONEEEE... GUUUYYYYYY!!

How does Bruce Wayne AKA Batman not notice Vicki trailing him from his house to Crime Alley?

Random mime... more random mimes...

Why is Bruce just standing there?  Ooohhhh... wait a minute.. there’s this whole schindig about him recognizing Jack later in the movie

There is literally no reason why Jack Nicholson becomes the Joker since he’s already been established as Jack Napier before the whole ACE Chemicals thing. 

THIS TOWN NEEDS AN ENEMA!

Alfred just wants some grandkids, gosh dang it

How the hell did you get those pics, Vicki?

Oh my God, I hate that this Joker has this weird crush on Vicki.  I hate it so much.

“I’m in a mind to make some mooky.” Ugghh...

Oh my gosh, the Smylex commercial

Oh my gosh, the newspeople aren’t wearing any care products... pfftt...

What kind of cake foundation does Joker have?  That’s like the stuff we had to wear in high school

That waiter just addressed Vicki as “sir”

Did Joker write that message in crayon?

That elderly couple is dead after falling off the balcony like that

LET’S BROADEN OUR MINDS!

*jams the crap out to “Party Man” by Prince*

*One goon paints over a bust*  Hey look, it’s the Jared Leto Joker

What the crap is this music that plays?  It plays during one of the trailers for “The Shape of Water”

Oh wait, it’s the theme from something called “A Summer Place”

I quote the “one dollar bill” quote all the freaking time at my house.

The prosthetic work on Alicia looks pretty sweet, I gotta say

Oh, a little song.. a little dance... Batman’s head on a lance...

Oh my gosh, I forgot how much Kim Basinger screamed in this movie

They even color coded the cars for Joker’s goons

*The police get involved in an accident involving a farmer’s market truck*  NO, NOT THE CABBAGES!

There is no way in hell that Vicki only weighs like 108

Remember when the Batsuit was made out of rubber, you guys?

*Crazy, sword-wielding guy goes after Batman*  Seriously?  Did you not see “Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

For the Batmobile, it looks like they made the toy first before constructing it for the movie

Gotta love that Danny Elfman score...

*Vicki tries to see under Batman’s cowl*  Yo, Vicki, don’t distract Batman while he’s driving

The Batcave!

Why is there just this one random bat hanging out in a bird cage?

Forgot that Michael Keaton literally could not turn his head in the Batsuit

Oh my gosh, how short is Michael Keaton here?

Oooohhh nice transition!

How the hell did Vicki end up back there?

Gotta admit, that’s a nice apartment

“You see, my life is really...”  Batsy!

JUST TELL HER YOU’RE [Vicki] BATMAN!

I like how Bruce walks right by the fire poker in order to get a freaking tray to hit Joker with

YOU WANNA GET NUTS?!?  C’MON, LET’S GET NUTS!

EVER DANCE WITH THE DEVIL IN THE PALE MOONLIGHT?

“Never rub another man’s rhubarb.”  What?

There is no way in hell that Bruce deflected that bullet with the tray

Matte painting!

“Can you hear me?  Just the two of us.”  *sings “Just the Two of Us” by Will Smith*

Gotta admit, Michael Keaton’s Batman has an awesome thinking/pensive face.  It’s probably the eyebrows that help

What is it with families being targeted by random gun-wielding criminals in abandoned alleyways?

There’s no way that that’s Jack Nicholson playing young Jack Napier

Nevermind, it’s some dude named Hugo Blick

*scats the Batman theme obnoxiously out of tune*

Batman’s belt just slipped.  Never gonna un-see that

Why is it that every time this Batman is in the Batsuit and glaring at somebody, he looks like he’s really constipated?

Seriously, is there not a bathroom in the Batcave?

Is this another Prince song?

So where exactly did Joker find the time to find all of this stuff and prepare for an impromptu 200th anniversary parade?

The Batplane!

Matte painting!

“Me?  I’m giving away free money!”  And it looks faaaaakkkeee...

Something is up with that clown balloon’s nose... just saying...

Yeah, lets go after the Joker’s goons with a baseball bat, Knox.  That’ll go well.

I love the sounds all the buttons make on the Batplane dashboard

“My balloons.  Those are my balloons!  He stole my balloons!”  Iconic.

Hahaha he [Joker] used Bob the Goon as a step stool off the parade float!

*The Batplane pauses in front of the moon*  Eeeeyyy!!

*Joker pulls out the gun with the really long muzzle out of the front of his pants*  No comment

Again, why is Vicki Vale dressed like she’s either getting ready to get married or go to a wedding?

“Better make it ten [minutes].”  What makes this awesome is that ten minutes actually goes by both in-universe time and movie run time.  My dad actually timed it the first time I watched this with him.

Mad respect to Tim Burton for the aesthetic in this movie, I gotta say

The eyebrows on Batman’s cowl strangely match Michael Keaton’s.  Was this intentional?

*Joker “dances” with Vicki* Now see the last time I recall Joker dancing with somebody was the 5 second long Alex Ross scene with Harley Quinn in “Suicide Squad”

Unpopular opinion time:  I like Jared Leto’s Joker better than Jack Nicholson’s Joker  *gets bombarded with hate mail and darts*

Eugghhhh Vicki’s pulling a freaking Jasmine from “Aladdin”

“You wouldn’t hit a guy with glasses now, would ya?”  Cue Wreck-It-Ralph

How the hell did Joker pull Batman and Vicki off the roof like that?

Oh my gosh that 80s falling effect

Yeah no, from that drop, the Joker’s body would be a freaking mess

“The reign of crime [in Gotham City] is over.”  BWAHAHAHAHAHA

Oh hi Billy Dee Williams!

You know what would be awesome:  if Kim Basinger had a cameo somewhere in the Batman solo movie directed by Ben Affleck.  Just saying

Yoooo....

#batman #1989 batman #jack nicholson #Michael Keaton #billy dee williams #danny elfman #vicki vale #joker #commissioner gordon #kim basinger #the blogger reacts #bruce wayne #prince #Tim Burton #jared leto

[agentem]

Emily Watches Iron Fist, Episode 5

Is Claire in this? Yes! CLAIRE TEMPLE HAS LANDED. Life is finally worth living.

Is Collen in this? Also yes! They appear together 14 minutes and thirty seconds in. Skip there!

Okay one more for today and then I need to do some actual work stuff. Stupid weekend work stuff.

Drug reps, with Gao’s symbol on their rolly bags, go all over the city to sell a new kind of heroine.

Danny is wearing a suit and talking to a doctor about the drugs. Meanwhile Joy deals with a lawsuit against Rand’s chemical plant. A woman bursts into tears. And Joy leaves.

Blah, blah, office stuff. Danny tries to tell Ward the heroine is being shipped through their dock. They need to do something! Ward is meh.

Joy is upset about the chemical plant lawsuit. It reminds her of her when their dad was sick.

The crying woman from the lawsuit asks Danny for help. The lawyer films it.

CLAIRE! Claire and Colleen are working out. Colleen is giving her those lessons Claire was looking at during the end of Luke Cage. Danny shows up and interrupts all my fun. Claire recognizes him from the news and is like, “Soooo what are your intentions regarding our dearest Colleen?”

Oddly Colleen acts way more into Danny that she has previously. Kind of awkward and moon eyes. Danny ordered dinner for the two of them, but Colleen is in the middle of a lesson. He should really be more respectful of her time and call ahead.

Claire is totally trolling and says she’s going to stay and have dinner with them. Colleen is like “Yes Please!” and Danny is frowny face.

Back to Ward and Joy talking about the cancer case. Why is this show so much about running a company? I want more hitting. And also more Claire. Ward realizes his dad has cameras in his office.

Awkward dinner date with Colleen, Danny and Claire! Danny prays to Buddha and it’s all AWK-WARD.Colleen finds out he took a vow of chastity. Claire takes food and leaves so Danny and Colleen can talk.

Sadly they talk about Rand and heroin. Boring shit. He convinces Colleen to come with him to find the heroin.

The Rand board meets (without Danny) about the lawsuit.

Colleen shows  Danny her katana work. It’s pretty sexy, I’m not going to lie. e does nun-chucks.

Ward contemplates the heroin.

Colleen and Danny go to the pier. There is some uncomfortable flirting that makes me wish people would start shooting. They film the shipment arriving but it’s nothing suspicious. So Danny goes rogue and leaves Colleen on the roof as he investigates further. He gets himself locked in the truck. Colleen has to race after the truck in a security vehicle she steals.

It turns out there is a man, like, living inside the truck. The chemist? Danny is attacked. Not only is fighting so much easier to recap (’they fight’) it’s also more interesting to watch, show. The chemist gets stabbed. Conveniently.

Danny and wounded chemist jump out of the truck onto the hood of Colleen’s car. They decided, obviously, to take the chemist to Claire.

Joy walks into Ward’s office to find him high on the heroin.

Meanwhile in more interesting world, Claire saves the chemist with a credit card. She’s like the MacGuyver of medicine! The Chemist says the Hand has his daughter.

Claire reacts like “oh fuck no not these fuckers again!” As you would. The Chemist wants his daughter and Claire clearly wants to call Matt, but Danny says he can do it. Colleen volunteers her services.

Madam Gao!! It’s her! She’s inspecting the truck that Danny was in, looking at the metal he punched through. She makes the security guy kneel (I guess that’s her thing) and then kills him with a sword she has hidden in her cane.

And there’s a badass reveal shot that it is her. Gao, but I knew that already.

I add “Madam Gao killing people” to the list of things I’d like to see more of on this show.

#emily watches iron fist so you don't have to #iron fist #reviews #recaps #claire temple #gao #madam gao #madame gao #if the big matchup of the season is danny v gao #then I'm on team gao #iron fist s1 ep5 #under leaf pluck lotus