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#and i’d like as many opportunities as i can to disprove that

greywindys · 2 years

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hey, sorry for the random question, but do you know if Murdoc’s ethnicity and background has ever been confirmed? Like he’s British and I think Jamie described him as Caucasian before, but I thought there was talk of him being Mexican? Or maybe something else? Or maybe it’s just a popular headcanon. My memory’s really bad and I was wondering if maybe you knew. Maybe it’s never been canonically established and I’m just mistaking a fan theory for fact, I’m not sure. Or maybe there’s something in canon that implied it? If you’re also not sure I apologise, just figured I’d ask just in case!

It's okay! Again, no need to apologize about these kinds of questions.

I remember it like it was yesterday....Jk, jk. I remember a bit, but this was my experience and it's completely possible someone else had a different one. It's also possible I could be forgetting things. I'm open to discussion about this, but it's cool you brought it up because there's definitely some Fandom History™ attached to it.

The tl;dr answer to this is: no. You can stop reading here if you want lmao.

...But you'll definitely see a lot of people with the hc or who jokingly talk about it like it's real to the point where you may question whether or not they're really joking. At this point, it's a pretty popular hc and almost universally accepted, but it's also relatively new. I don't think anyone gave any thought to Murdoc's ethnicity prior to the fandom revival in 2017. There was some exploration of his mother, but usually only enough to add to the tragedy of Murdoc (i.e. his mom as a drug addict, murdered, abandoned him intentionally...basically she was kind of a trope etc. etc) and no one ever explored it much beyond that. Fans only started exploring Murdoc family post-2017, around the time where more fans became more interested in writing him as a complex character.

I've always supported it as a hc. There aren't any straightforward hints but Murdoc's been associated with Latin American imagery and experienced significant character moments (i.e. meeting Cortez in Mexico) in South and Central America, and considering Gorillaz' inclusion of supernatural elements, it's easy for me to conjecture that some part of him is connected to that part of the world. I began endorsing it with others during P4 and made plans to write it into The Answer later that year which I think also helped to popularized it. Of the top of my head, he's been portrayed by fans as Mexican, Peruvian, Colombian and probably more.

In general, I think a lot of fans saw the hc as an opportunity for representation the same way some fans also hc 2D as mixed-race. There has been push back against these hcs for various reasons. In Murdoc's case, it was from fans and haters. Fans because they didn't think the Latino hc was "realistic enough," and that if we want to create representation, he should be Indian or Pakistani. I think this would be great too! But disagree with the tone of this critique - if there's possibility for something, then it's possible, and people can work with it and enjoy it as they please. Gorillaz is already wildly unrealistic soooo lmao. And I'd also refer those people to my point in the previous paragraph. Haters (at the time - 2017/2018) wanted him to be white, cis and straight for reasons I probably don't have to explain.

Murdoc is described as "chronically Caucasian," in a character sheet from P1. I don't know if this was written by Jamie or not tbh, but either way, it doesn't disprove the hc to me because being Hispanic and/or Latino isn't a race and there are many white passing folks who identify that way.

tl;dr again: Murdoc’s ethnicity has not been confirmed, but the Latino hc is popular. No hc is impossible though, and we should all have fun creating what we want to create.

#asks.#Anonymous #discussion #but yeah murdoc will always be latino in my head at this point personally #murdoc

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journals4546 · 10 months

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11/19/08

I used to envy Jess of her relationship with Bert, her hold over him, a relationship with him that I’ll never get to experience, in my role of the eternal friend. I think she’s the face of all the physical & romantic relationships I’ll never get to experience with all of my male friends, the sides I’m barred from in my role of friend/mother/provider/confessor/psychiatrist. Then I stop, look in from the outside, & realize that what I have with those people, she will never attain. I so often confuse a sexual relationship with an intimate one. I’d rather be what I mean to all of them than have quick infatuations which end abruptly & quickly turn into “this boy I used to date.” Because my ties with them are mostly without sexual connotation, there is none of the awkwardness that comes with the feeling of obligation or guilt if they would like to discuss a problem with another woman. If I do happen to engage physically with one of them, it has almost never any repercussion; I’m the rare woman who can separate love & affection & infatuation from sex. This I think I always have been able to say, quite honestly. I’ve never mistaken a night of passion with love, never expected it to mean that a relationship would blossom from it, a mistake so many women I know make, one which usually means the death of that friendship. My sexual liaisons with the guys I have been friends with were usually a result of curiosity, a need to exert pent-up sexual frustration, or loneliness. If I became attached romantically, it would have bloomed quite later, & usually remained unspoken, kept within myself, thus left unrequited. I could always tell when I was being courted as a temporary entertainment, or if it was mean to have longer intentions. With Shawn, however, I was always confused, mostly out of my own protective self-delusion - I wanted it to mean otherwise. With the Asshole, my ex-fuck-buddy-turned-nightmare, I was always aware that it was purely physical, & was satisfied with that, never needed more. We had a good friendship because I never asked for more than that, & neither did he. We were an outlet for each other. Ryan doesn’t understand how I could accomplish this, how I can be such casual & good friends with most of the people I was once physical with, where I find it curious how one can confuse simple sex with love. For him, sex is the ultimate expression of love, a way to express physically what he feels emotionally, the coming together of two parts of a whole, “creating the two-backed beast.” The most entwined, physically closest you can get with another human being. I think he was born decades too late, he does not belong in this century without emotions, where actual love is rare, substituted with a need for convenience. He’s too sweet for this world, his feelings ring too genuine, too bared, something I love so much about him. I have such a need for him, a person like him, one who still believes real love is possible, so I can be convinced. I crave his blind faith in his feelings. There has been a slight resurgence in this idealism in my generation, but I fear it won’t last past our adolescence, that it will have given way to disillusionment & bitterness by our thirties, how it seems to have for our predecessors.

I want to avoid this at all costs.

When I was younger I wanted to appear jaded, pretend I could see through all of the idealism & hope that affected people my age. I thought there was sophistication in that. Now I see how I was clearly, & I wish I had never aspired to that. I see how it has affected my actions & my fate, how it destroyed so many things, opportunities in my life. My relationship with Max, how I should’ve believed entirely in his love for me, because it was honest, pure in its innocence, the way that only an adolescent young love can be. If I had never tried so hard to disprove it, I may still be with him now, I believe.

But I can’t regret it, because it brought me to Ryan, & with it realization, an appreciation for idealism I might never have had, wouldn’t have known the benefits of it. Ryan unconsciously teaches me how to have that blind faith, trust in the genuineness of one’s feelings, not to doubt, pick apart, overanalyze to the point of destruction. I once thought of Max’s & Ryan’s feelings, the outpourings of them naive in their sweetness, in their simplicity. I no longer believe that. I’m learning not to doubt everything, look for excuses. It may have taken me a long while, but better now than to have wasted so many years in it, to have ended up bitter & wondering why no one loved me, when I should’ve realized that I’d been loved & had shoved it away.

I look back at all of Ryan’s sacrifices & expressions of love for me, & I become so ashamed that I could have ever doubted them, doubted the genuine honesty in them. He loved me enough to take care of me, without a word of complaint or any show of irritation. He loved me enough to put on a CD the songs that make him think of me, to move across the country to an entirely new life for me, to be unable to see me at my most unattractive, unappealing, & still only see the girl he fell in love with. The strength of that love frightened me, amazed me, still does. He never asked anything in return for it, only that I love him in return, & I wonder if I did enough to prove that I did, to show my appreciation.

In the end, all I did was run.

This guilt will always weigh so heavily on me, & I will bear it without complaint, because I know how I deserve it. I turned my back on that love & will never get it back in that exact form. Even if I were to somehow get him back, it would never be the same, never have the same innocence, purity. I’d fear the betrayal of my abandonment would always be at the back of his mind, that on some level he’d always be waiting for me to do it again, no matter how I’d try to prove that I wouldn’t.

I don’t believe the kind of love we had (have?) for each other is often found. We may have very well lasted forever. If I have enough faith in it, perhaps we still might. We believed that we found each other at the exact right moment in our lives, but maybe we hadn’t. Perhaps we were supposed to be together now, at the dawn of my belief in idealism, the only world in which I can be happy, accept love given to me as strongly as I can return it.

I wonder why I can love my friends so strongly, so easily, & accept, even long for their returned love so easily, & yet couldn’t be the same with romantic love. Why, when I was young, did I find glamour in being jaded, & treat it with casualness? What an awful way to go through life, so empty. Perhaps so I could pretend that my biological father’s callousness & abandonment & brutality didn’t bother me, so that I would never allow myself to be treated as he treated my mother. I pretend that his abandonment, his very existence doesn’t affect me, like it does with my younger brother. That’s a lie. It hurts me more than I would like to address. But now I’ve cut him out of my life, & can abandon him as he did us. But why doesn’t that satisfy me, bring me absolution? I want not to, but I believe I need retribution, for every time he physically & emotionally battered my mother, my siblings, used them as his punching bags to relieve his anger. I see him, hear of him living his easy, comfortable life, & find it so hard to retain my faith in karma, while my family suffers the burden of his actions, the scars peeling daily to reveal still-open wounds. The damage he’s left upon us, how they affect our actions, are always on our consciousness. I’m always inwardly disgusted, frustrated with Chelsea’s continued contact with him, though outwardly I’m indifferent. To walk into the lion’s den, to pet him after he’s devoured your entire family, to smile at him as he’s chomping on your limbs.

It’s an anger, a pain I do not like to address, to admit, because in admitting it, he’s winning all over again. I fear he’ll never get retribution, even feel guilt for his crimes because he so easily deletes them from his memory, as if they’d never occurred. His self-denial is so finely tuned that he honestly believes he’s done nothing wrong. Though it’s vengeful to wish, I would still like for him to suffer horribly, to get his. I have very little faith in the justness in this world, & perhaps only want to believe in an afterlife so that he may suffer in a hell similar to the one he created for us on earth.

If he’s evil, his good counterpart would be Tom, my mother’s longtime boyfriend. How can it be so hard for our biological father to love us, provide for us, show interest & affection for the children he helped create, give life to, when Tom does it so easily, for children he has no physical responsibility for? He gives so much where my biological father only steals.

I envy my mother of her strength, her resilience, never having given up, how many times she must’ve wanted to. Years of only sacrifice, having to accept the burden of six children with no respite, her entire twenties & thirties not her own, spent on the caring & raising of us, & in our rebellious adolescence no thanks for it. Perhaps this was why she was given such a youthful appearance, to always look years younger than she is, so that when she finally has the ability to live her life only for herself, she can experience the life she might’ve had. Even at forty-plus, she appears in her early thirties, a real Midwest beauty, someone who you would want to pull inside yourself & keep under a glass jar forever. I’m so lucky to have inherited her expressive, wide blue eyes, the eyes Ryan loves so much, the eyes I passed on to the baby. The two most comforting scents in my world: the smell of my mother’s bathroom - makeup, hairspray, & perfume, a smell I associate with safety, comfort, a certain pride; the second, the scent of Ryan’s chest, the scratchy feel of it against my own chest, smelling of him, thick, fragrant, no cologne - this is the scent of sleepiness, warmth, protection, excitement, dreams, undiluted happiness in its purest state. I wish to bottle it, drench my pillows in it.

I long to be in the kitchen with him, burying my face into his bare back, as fuzzy as his chest, while he’s concocting dinner for us, singing all the while, being silly, while I’m soaking him in.

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shera-dnd · 3 years

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New chapter arriving a little early today. This time featuring Weiss’s lesbian awakening at the hands of a certain Knight of the Fall Maiden

As usual you can read here or over on AO3, just follow your gay little heart (like Weiss is hopefully gonna do soon)

It had taken Weiss a couple of days to get used to not wearing her helmet, and a few more still for her to ditch the armor altogether. She hadn’t engaged in combat since those first couple of days, and even if she did, she was more than confident that she could best her opponents with sword alone.

Now, with the protection of Lady Ilia’s shawl she was given a level of freedom she did not expect. She was able to roam the festival grounds without a care in the world, no longer weighted either by iron or name. Tied down no longer by responsibilities to her father nor to House Schnee as a whole.

Of course Lady Ilia accompanied her wherever she went, though now Weiss saw her less as a shackle and more as a companion, with whom she spent time happily. She hoped that by putting aside her iron she had made herself more approachable to Lady Ilia. She had the fae to thank for all this after all.

“Must we really accompany those two once more?” Lady Ilia demanded as they followed a little ways behind Lady Yang and Lady Blake, who were both very openly and blatantly flirting.

“Lady Blake is our friend, Lady Ilia,” Weiss replied, “shouldn’t we be happy to accompany her in such a joyful evening stroll?”

“Oh, I’m plenty happy,” Lady Ilia countered, clear annoyance disproving her own statement, “though I do not understand why I must be exposed to these love birds every day.”

“Because Lady Blake requested that we accompany her,” Weiss informed, a playful grin forming on her face, “besides how else will you reach your daily quota of snark and mockery?”

“I’m sure you’d still give me plenty to work with, Lady Gigas,” Lady Ilia replied in kind, using the false name they had chosen for Weiss’s disguise.

“You know nothing delights me more than being of help to you, Lady Ilia,” Weiss added. The two of them looked at each other with an attempt at annoyed glares which very quickly dissolved into amused smirks.

“If you two are quite done,” Lady Blake called, “we’ve arrived.”

Around them sprawled the tents of the valean envoys and the Knights of the Fall Maiden, above them fluttered the flag of crossed axes over a crown, the symbol of their kingdom. They would finally meet Lady Blake’s companions.

“Come here, men,” the knight called in the valean tongue, “I wish to introduce you to my friends.”

With that many of those present gathered around the four of them to exchange greetings. Plenty of these knights had been bested by Weiss the week before, but none of them seemed to hold a grudge against her, and many had taken the opportunity to request rematches, which she gladly accepted.

It was after she had assumed she had met all of Lady Blake’s companions that she was greeted by the sight of a new arrival. An arrival that caught both her eye, and every scrap of breath from her lungs.

She was a tall woman with a flowing mane of red hair. Her body may not be as large, nor bulky, as Lady Yang’s, but the lean muscle it had looked as if it had been sculpted from marble, and the sweat - from what was clearly an intense training session - gave them a shine that made it near impossible for Weiss to look away.

She was starstruck.

“Lady Nikos,” Lady Blake called, “I hope I haven’t interrupted your sparring practice.”

“Hello again,” she greeted, with a lovely smile on her face, “are these the companions you have spoken so fondly of?”

With that she happily greeted the four of them and then continued to hold an animated conversation with her fellow knight. Weiss’s mind was having a difficult time grasping what was being said, most of it focusing on the lovely sound of Lady Nikos’s accent, and the insufferable smirk on Lady Ilia’s face.

Before she could question her companion on this another knight stumbled after Lady Nikos. A blonde man that Weiss first assumed to be her squire, but whose regalia was that of a full fledged knight.

Her next assumption was that the man had stolen his gear from an actual knight, though Lady Blake would have apprehended him if that was the case.

“Sir Arc, good to see you’ve survived your sparring session,” Lady Blake welcomed, the title as unfitting on him as his armor.

“Jaune’s been getting better and better,” Lady Nikos assured her, though why someone like her would waste her good will on such a buffon was beyond her.

“It’s only because of your teachings, Pyrrha,” he replied, offering the recognition back to the one who actually deserved it, “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

“Nonsense, you’d still be a knight of great renown,” she assured him, quite wrongly in Weiss’s fair opinion.

To drive her point home she took his hand and gently pressed a kiss against his knuckles. Weiss decided then that she despised Jaune Arc with all her being.

With her mind now being assaulted on three fronts - two annoying and one lovely - Weiss did not contribute much to the conversation, which only aggravated Lady Ilia’s accursed smile.

It was only later, when the two of them had been separated from the group that Weiss finally had a chance to question her on that.

“What amuses you so, Lady Ilia?” Weiss asked, making no attempt to hide her annoyance.

“Nothing much,” she replied, her tone as unbearable as her smile, “only that you’re so clearly smitten by Lady Nikos.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Weiss scoffed.

She was not some foolish little princess swooning over any knight who so much as flexed a bicep in her vicinity. More importantly she did not seek the company of women in that way...at the very least she was pretty sure she didn’t.

“That you wish it was your hand, not Sir Arc’s, that she had kissed,” Lady Ilia replied with certainty.

“That is…not untrue,” Weiss admitted, “but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t it now?” She teased, “does the thought of a strong woman in knightly armor, carrying you off into the sunset not set your heart aflutter?"

“It very much does not,” Weiss informed her, unamused.

“Then perhaps you wish to be that knight in shining armor,” she tried again, “brave, powerful, holding a swooning maiden in your arms as she declares her undying love for you.”

That thought certainly brought some color to Weiss’s cheeks. Though it was obviously only because it played to her dream of becoming a knight, and not because of any previously undiscovered attraction to swooning maidens.

Certainly not.

“Oh Lady Schnee,” Lady Ilia continued, hands clutching her chest as she leaned back in a clear mockery of said maidens, “you’re so handsome and strong, please carry me off to your chambers so you may ravish me.”

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point,” Weiss rolled her eyes, deigning to ignore Lady Ilia’s nonsense in favor of preparing their camp once more.

That was certainly a lot for her to process all at once. Certainly she was surrounded by women who held interest in other women, but that did not speak of her preferences, right? Though if she was so certain she shouldn’t be having all these doubts right now.

Perhaps she enjoyed the company of men and women, much like Lady Yang’s mothers. Though she couldn’t quite remember a time in which a man’s company did to her what the mere sight of Lady Nikos did.

She needed something to get her mind off of this. Something that would both distract her and help her think more clearly. Thankfully she knew just what could save her in her hour of need.

“What are you doing?” Lady Ilia asked, as Weiss began searching through her belongings.

“Searching for my training swords,” she informed her, “the two of us are gonna spar.”

“I see,” Lady Ilia replied, seemingly not much entertained by this idea, “and why is that?”

“You’ve claimed to know how to defend yourself,” she explained. Having found the pair of wooden swords that she had stashed away - just in case Winter could spare some time with her - Weiss tossed one over to Lady Ilia and continued, “I wish to test that.”

Her reasoning wasn’t entirely untrue. She did want to measure her companion’s skill, just to be sure she would be safe were they ever separated, and that explanation dealt a far smaller blow to her pride than, ‘I’d rather swordfight you than sit around and question my sexuality all night.’

“Very well,” Lady Ilia agreed, getting up and giving her sword a few practice swings, “though do not be saddened when I put an end to your winning streak, Schnee.”

“My lady,” Weiss replied, in a tone she knew annoyed her companion deeply, “you know you could never sadden me.”

“You know that won’t stop me from trying, Schnee,” she replied, matching Weiss in her annoyance.

This would bring her such joy.

“On my mark then,” Weiss declared, taking a proper fighting stance, “begin!”

The word had barely left her lips before Lady Ilia’s sword was already swinging for Weiss’s head. She barely had the time to block that blow before another hit came her way, then another, and another still. Lady Ilia pressed the offensive with a terrifying fury, backed by skillful swordsmanship.

Sidestepping her next blow, Weiss finally managed to get her footing again and swing her first blow towards her opponent. Lady Ilia evaded it masterfully and pushed the attack once again, only to be stopped by a follow up blow of Weiss’ sword.

Oh, this was exhilarating. The intensity of her lady’s attacks, the rhythm of their push and pull, truly nothing could get her blood pumping quite like a good fight, and Lady Ilia was giving her exactly that.

“I wanna see you grinning like that once I turn you into worm food, Schnee,” she threatened.

Oh? Had Weiss been grinning this whole time? Perhaps she had been enjoying herself too much. Not that she had any cares right now. There was only space in her mind for the fires of combat, both with blades and words alike.

“Your skills with the blade are matched only by your eloquence, my lady,” Weiss declared, trying to keep a calm tone even as the fight continued.

“And yours is only matched by your fairness,” Lady Ilia countered, matching Weiss blow for blow.

“I’ll be taking that as a compliment,” she replied, taking some ground as well while she was at it.

“Not once I’m done beating your face bloody!”

Weiss laughed.

She couldn’t help herself really, not when she was enjoying herself so much. She hadn’t had such fun in ages, so of course she had been grinning and laughing like a complete fool. It did not help that her sparring partner was making herself a fool in much the same way.

Perhaps it had been such bouts of laughter that had caused Lady Ilia’s stance to slip for a moment. Making the best of the opportunity she had been given, Weiss lunged forth, hitting her partner’s sword with force, knocking her backwards with the blow. Though she did not wish for her companion to suffer any real wounds, and dutifully caught her in one arm before she could touch the ground.

Her breathing was labored, heavy with strain and adrenaline. Lady Ilia did not find herself in a much better position, clinging to Weiss’s arm to keep herself from falling back as the both of them simply held themselves like that. Their bodies pushed oh so closely as they allowed themselves to slowly recover.

“I must admit, Schnee,” Ilia was the first to break the silence, “you’re quite the fighter.”

Weiss did not care to stop the smirk that had returned to her face, “it wouldn’t do for my lady to have a poor knight at her service.”

Calling herself a knight was perhaps a bit much, but she felt she could allow herself such indulgences in this moment. As expected, Lady Ilia clearly disagreed, rolling her eyes at Weiss’s self satisfied comment.

What wasn’t expected was for her body to fracture into a kaleidoscope of butterflies, each of them flying away and dispersing into the air. Weiss froze in stunned shock, unable to move as her mind tried to grasp what had just unfolded.

She felt hard wood gently press against her back, before the real Lady Ilia allowed herself to retort, "and it wouldn't do to let you grow too cocky, Schnee."

The Ilia she had fought was an illusion.

Now that had returned the smile to her face.

Weiss righted herself and turned to face her sparring partner. Ilia’s excitement was written on her face as clear as day. She smiled not only at the fact that she had bested a Schnee, but at the simple joy of a good fight.

It struck her then that perhaps there was some truth to Lady Ilia’s assumptions. Perhaps she had certain preferences when it came to her partners. That was certainly a lot for Weiss’s poor mind to digest while still being pumped full of adrenaline. Maybe it would be for the best if she saved the self questioning for later, and just allowed herself to enjoy this moment of joy.

“Again?” Weiss asked, already knowing what her lady’s answer would be.

“Again!”

#rwby #prismatic ponytails #weiss schnee #ilia amitola #pyrrha nikos #medieval au #fanfic

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elucere · 3 years

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Sad Late August Quarantine Thoughts 2.0

Last year, I wrote this. Basically my thoughts on how I felt in my life up to that point and what quarantine had illuminated. It felt cathartic then, so hopefully it’ll feel cathartic now. A part of that probably had to do with the fact that the last part was complete bullshit, but we’ll get into that later.

At nearly the slightest inconvenience now, I’ll say “I’m at my limit”. Technically, that isn’t really true because if I was really at my limit, at the next inconvenience I would completely lose it. But no, I’m just simply reminding myself that while I’m constantly met with a series of unfortunate events, I haven’t broken down yet. I might feel like I’m there, but I’m not. I’m just at my limit. Things are bad, but they aren’t the worst they could be yet. So keep in mind, I am very much at my limit as I’m writing this.

Last year I talked about my struggles with my job. Yeah, I got fired in February. It was not pretty either. I knew I wasn’t doing well performance wise, and they invited me into a zoom call that they said was a project meeting a week before my year anniversary and fired me. My supervisor (or I guess, ex-supervisor) cried on call. I didn’t cry until afterwards. It was an entire year of me trying to get better, him promising that it’ll come with time, and then getting sacked because “we didn’t see improvements”. Really, really fucking sucked. And it messed with me for a long time because I kept replaying those last few weeks, trying to decipher what I could’ve done differently to prove my worth and keep my position. There was a lot. I felt really guilty.

I think the worst part is that I got a performance warning in December and realized at that point I’d become so apathetic about my job that I needed professional help. I’d been trying to go to therapy for a long time, but it never panned out. My mom forbade it when I was in high school, it was practically impossible to get an appointment at my college’s mental health facility unless you were considered a threat to yourself and others (which I most certainly did not want on my record), and after school life happened so fast with the pandemic and the fact that I live in a 2 bedroom apartment with my mom and my brother with very little privacy. Even now that I’ve convinced my mom that therapy is okay, actually, she still highly disproves and sees it as some sort of psychological failing on my part. Which is. Sure. Whatever. Why not.The reason I did not enroll in therapy that December is actually because my dad lost his job and with it, his health insurance, and with that, my health insurance. That means I had to enroll in a health plan through my employment, which became an unanticipatedly long process. I actually got my new-but-useless health insurance card in the mail a few days after I got fired. They actually fired me on the last day of the month, so my benefits wouldn’t extend beyond that month. That’s a bit of fun irony.

To quite a few of my friends, this story solidified the idea that insurance=therapy. As soon as I got insurance again, I’d be able to finally get some help. This was a couple of people’s first response to me when I got hired again (yay, I know I don’t have to worry about that anymore but I’m also afraid that I’ll just inevitably be fired again so I don’t let myself have the victory). I know my friends only want the best for me, and I can’t expect them be able to emotionally support me like a professional, but I’m afraid that they think that therapy will be some sort of magical fix of sorts. I don’t mean in the sense of just getting better mentally, but I think being a tolerable person. I know that sounds like I’m just being self-depreciating, but let me explain.

A few years ago I was at dinner with one of my friends. I don’t remember exactly what we were talking about, but she goes “name three things you actually like” because I was probably being negative or something. I said a few things and whatever, but that comment stuck with me for a long time. I thought it was especially poignant or something. Am I so unhappy all the time because I fixate on things I don’t like? It could be connected to the attitude of social media to be outwardly negative. Casual wisdom, you know.

Well, that was the fact until I was out with that same friend and we visited Barnes and Noble. I’ve been doing quite a bit of reading this year and got more involved in the book community, so I have many Opinions. Some are good, some are bad, some are just me being annoying. After an hour of browsing the shelves, we drive home. I start talking about a series I really like in the car and she goes “It’s nice to hear you talk about a book you actually like.” Which kind of stunned me because I had just did a lot of talking about books I liked. How happy I was that kids were still reading Rangers Apprentice, going out of my way to see how many Brandon Sanderson books I could find in the Adult Fantasy section, and more reminiscing in the Young Adult section about books I liked recently or as a teen. The truth is, I talk about stuff I like all the time to people who will listen. Ask me about my favorite books! My favorite movies! My favorite musicals! I promise I will not shut up. It’s one of the few things I have that lift my spirits when I talk about it, I just don’t get the opportunity to much because it’s hard to find people who want to listen.

The thing is, I’m naturally a critical person, I think. I love tearing things apart, in good and bad ways. I also love gossip. I’m an okay gossip, but I know at this point that I’m a good critic. I’m really good at identifying faults and commenting them on an insightful or constructive way. I edit a lot of my friends’ writings for this reason. I don’t find that to be anything negative, it’s just something that’s interesting to me. Basically what I’m saying is, what if it’s not mental illness and I’m just annoying and I’ll not be able to meet the expectations of other people’s idea of progress for me and I’ll be a disappointment. I’m kind of tearing up while typing that out while listening bopping to Disturbia by Rihanna but this is the third time I’ve been on the verge of crying today so yaknow maybe it is just mental illness.At this point, I can either talk about criticism in relation to the particular way I dish it, or I could talk about how I want to receive it. I think the former will take less time to elaborate, so I’ll start with that.

I mention last year how I got an unpaid gig as a critic for DiscussingFilm. Embarrassing at times, I joke with my friends that “DiscussingFilm Writer” is a slur, but it’s cool at times as well. I got a press pass to go to Sundance and gorged on an entire family sized bag of peanut M&Ms while I watched like 14 movies in one weekend. I’m trying to say positive things about this until I start ragging to prove that I’m not an overwhelmingly negative person, but I don’t think that’s working well. Whatever. The point is, if I didn’t like it I would quit, but if I did quit it wouldn’t be because I didn’t like it. It would because there was an…event. I had quite a falling out with one of the higher-ups that run the site and in response my work has taken a hit. I won’t go into too much detail, but I don’t get assigned anticipated releases anymore. My work is often delayed going out and, in turn, I feel less motivated to turn in my work on time. And then on top of that, it’s rarely promoted. I have examples on top of examples, but this stupid thing is getting long enough. To summarize the DiscussingFilm situation, I feel like shit. I have one of the lowest view counts on the site. I’m told that my work is good and it’s valued, but not enough to get reposted, I guess! Why bother. And also because the person I do not work well with is quite up in the food chain, I’ll never see a promotion. I wanted to become an editor so bad (I do editing on the side for my friends and enjoy it), but now it will never ever happen. I don’t have the opportunity to prove myself, it’s just completely off the table by nature of leadership. Ass. Complete ass. I’m doing quite a bit of work for DiscussingFilm including creating the standard for the Instagram, making graphics for the Instagram, performing interviews and writing reviews for the site, and co-hosting a DiscussingFilm branded podcast, and I will never see neither a dime for my work or recognition in any meaningful or significant way. I don’t have a say in anything, and I feel like an insignificant cog whose opinion does not mean much.

I still get insecure with my reviews, but not as much anyways. Sure, I can’t compare to the great writers at trades who do this for a living and have been doing so for years. But, I am better than a lot of writers at my level. Sometimes I try pitching to other publications, but so far I’ve only been met with rejection. It kinda stings to know that my work is not worth enough to be paid for, but I’m kinda over it. I still pitch. I try my best. That’s the thing about me, I just keep going. Rejection hurts like a bitch, but whatever. I don’t want to quit just yet, so I guess I won’t. There isn’t anyone in my corner who’s actively spurring me to keep going, I’ve just decided that I’ll get paid for my work one day and so now I will.This connects with the criticism I want to receive which unfortunately very much is not of the nonfiction variety. Ew I fucking hate talking about this but I need to get it off my chest.

After I got fired, I was slipping into quite a bit of a depression. I started a podcast at this time with my friend to try and prevent that, but I knew that I probably needed another project. I wasn’t watching movies anymore, DiscussingFilm was not publishing my shit, and all I was doing all day was reading (which I don’t anymore, I’m in a slump and it’s definitely connected to the idea I have in the next sentence). So I had the brilliant idea of “hey, I could do that. I could write a book. I should do it to do it.”You see, this has not been my only attempt at writing a proper book. I tried when I was 13, I tried when I was 15 and into online literate roleplay, I tried when I was 18 by doing NaNoWriMo in college (also, I was actually more depressed then). I also tried to get into a short story class in college that you had to submit a story to get into and didn’t even make it on the waitlist. Nothing stuck. But hey, I was unemployed and I came up with a funny premise that I wasn’t too attached to, so why not?

The book is not funny. It was supposed to, but it’s changed a lot. I’m very comfortable writing in camp. It’s difficult because I know sometimes I have my moments, but often I don’t. I also chose to write it in a genre I’m not super familiar with (Young Adult contemporary, I read Young Adult and Adult fiction primarily). I didn’t expect it to be easy, but the things I thought would come easily did not come easily. I have a lot of male friends, so I could certainly write the male characters as real people, right? Right? I’m funny, so the humor would come across well, right? Did I anticipate that after years of pretty much only analyzing films critically I’d subconsciously structure my story using dialogue-driven storytelling similar to a screenplay? No! Not at all, actually! This journey of self-discovery has been ass at every corner!

I recognize that first drafts are shit and authors hate their writing, but also I’m built different, your honor. By 15k words in, I realized I needed an outside perspective. I hated my own writing and I was afraid none of the characters were coming off right. I needed feedback, and I still do. But I hate being perceived. As long as no one reads my writing, they think that I know what I’m talking about and value my opinion on their writing, but once they figure out I’m just an Imposter then it’s game over. They’ll lose respect for me. Logically, I know this isn’t how this works, but I feel physically nauseous whenever someone reads my writing.

Anyways, back to my much-needed criticism. To make a long story short involving several English teacher that caused me to quit pursuing writing altogether in my formative years and decide to switch to a STEM track, I have very little tangible self-awareness of my own writing and how to improve it. I need the outside feedback, or at least I did. I’m 60k words into my first draft now and I’m cripplingly self aware of all my errors, but it feels too little too late. 60k words are a lot of words, and it feels not great knowing that most of them are trash. I really needed this kind of feedback earlier in the process so I could make tweaks early on. I know that writing is like a muscle and you need to work it out and practice to get stronger, but fuck man, FUCK. 60k words is a LOT of words. And I still need people to read it and give me feedback and I’m literally willingly asking people to read shit. It’s so humiliating. I guess I’m just at a point where I wish I could look at it and find something of value in what I’ve written.

I see other authors and I get so jealous. At their confidence, at their lyricism, their mastery of the art, their enthusiasm for their story, their love of their characters. I don’t have that. I’m not even talking about imposter’s syndrome. I know what that feels like. This is something else. I just wish I was the kind of person who could openly be creative without wanting to die. I’m 100% sure if I could be enthusiastic about the story I want to tell, the entire thing would be better. It’s crazy how I noticed that I’m not writing any metaphors into realizing that’s directly connected with my inability to be vulnerable and that I’m detaching myself from my work. That, and the fact that I’m fucking shite at writing metaphors apparently.

It also doesn’t help that I don’t have a writer group of friends and very little people to talk about this with, none of which are like… enthusiastic. It’s not their fault. I attract people into my life who are very much like me. They’re supportive and wonderful but I need someone who’d be excited to talk to me about it. I just feel like such a huge burden all the time. Everytime I bring it up I feel terrible, but it’s occupying so much of my brain space and I have no outlet. But also, getting that group of friends would require me to be vulnerable online and be willing to share what I have so far which I might actually throw up.I think it’s very fun that “crying and throwing up” has become a saying on Twitter considering that I’ve counted a countless amount of times this year and thrown up from stress four times since last November. It might also be connected to coffee consumption, but if that’s true I’m ready to off myself because coffee is one of my few joys. Honestly, it’s probably a mix of both. I’m very healthy, very much okay.

I don’t know. Last year, I ended my little essay on a hopeful note. Here’s the thing, this may seem like very much just stream of consciousness bullshit but there is quite a bit of structuring I do and omissions I make. I didn’t talk about my struggles reconnecting with people and subsequently taking their irregular replies, because there’s a lot to get into there. There’s a lot I could’ve talked about, but no room. There’s a very specific flow, and I feel like any story, it needs a conclusion. So last year, through tears, I wrote a hopeful ending. It was as much for me as it was to the people reading it. Unfortunately, I don’t have it in it for me to conclude in the same fashion this time around.

The truth is, I need to feel okay. I need to feel like I’m good at something, anything, and be recognized for it.

Life is suffering and I’m just constantly going through the motions. I promise you, this stupid thing is 3k words and the second I’m done I’ll go back to working on my b**k even though today I literally started crying thinking about how shit it is. I’m just a tenacious individual. I persist. I don’t feel good about it, and I’m done with being genuinely hopeful, but there’s nothing to do but keep moving. I don’t know if my writing will get better or if I’ll ever get published or if this story is worth it. I don’t fucking know anything and I feel like shit. But what else am I going to do? I’ve been holding onto this hope that I’ll feel better about things for just so long and it hasn’t happened. But I’m not giving up lmao I’m just working with what I have. I am at my limit.

#mine #bean spews

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yourbespokeartisanalapocalypse · 3 years

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For those about to chess (I salute you)

I’m utterly delighted that The Queen’s Gambit has inspired so many people to learn how to play chess. However, I know from experience that chess can be discouraging and even intimidating and it shouldn’t be that way. For those just starting out, I thought I’d share some thoughts on chess for new players. I’ve also found myself playing chess more over lockdown than I have in a long time so I’ve been musing on this stuff anyway. I claim no expertise except that I’ve been playing chess for about…22 years which…wow, that makes me sound old. I started playing when I was pretty young, I swear! There will also be people who disagree with my views, but you can make your own mind up I’m sure.

Anyway, here goes…

1. Chess is not about ego.

Beth Harmon so beautifully punctures male egos, especially at the start of her career, because chess is not about who you are or how big your ego is, it’s about the moves you play. That cuts both ways. One of the reasons new players get discouraged is that they tend to lose a lot, which makes sense, being new to it and all. But I’ve been playing a long time and I still lose a lot. I’m ok with that because my ego isn’t riding on it. The sooner you can separate your ego from winning or losing, the sooner you’ll start having more fun.

But if chess isn’t about your ego, what is it about? Isn’t all competition about ego in some sense? Well…

2. Chess is about truth.

Why does Beth obsessively spend time reading over old Master’s games from years ago? Why does she dislike chess puzzles? Because old games from players who are long dead still contain truths, whereas chess puzzles are often artificial and contain only an illusion of truth.

What do I mean by truth? I mean that in the controlled environment of the chessboard, if a move or a tactic or a strategy is good then it will be successful. If it is not, then it will fail.

Just like in life, a lot of people will tell you things. You’ll hear stuff like “always move your knights out before your bishops” and “you must try to control the center of the board”. Whereas in life it can be difficult to disprove false advice, can be hard to puncture bluffs and delusions, in chess you can test them and see what the truth really is. The final result will provide your proof.

The beauty of chess is that it is like an ongoing testing ground, an experiment you can run and re-run over and over. Rules like those I just quoted are often given to new players as sage advice, and yet as you go on you find that they hold true only some of the time. Because chess has so many potential variations, you have to think critically in every moment to test whether your beliefs still hold true.

As Emanuel Lasker (the longest ever reigning world champion, from 1894-1921) puts it in his Manual of Chess:

“On the chessboard lies and hypocrisy do not survive long. The creative combination lays bare the presumption of a lie; the merciless fact, culminating in a checkmate, contradicts the hypocrite. Our little Chess is one of the sanctuaries, where this principle of justice has occasionally had to hide to gain sustenance and a respite, after the army of mediocrity has driven it from the market-place.”

When you lose, it’s an opportunity to learn. It isn’t about your ego – no one tells a scientist they are a bad scientist and should shut up shop just because one experiment failed to produce the expected result. Instead, they go back to the drawing board, try to identify what went wrong, and then try to produce a better experiment second time around.

Chess is not just on-the-spot brain power, not is it just books: I started playing chess at about 7 or 8, but when I was 13 my family got our first computer with a slow dial-up internet connection. Being a nerd, even at that age, I soon found a website where people played something called “email chess”. I signed up and quickly discovered that everyone else seemed to know things I didn’t. It turned out my Usborne My First Chess Book had lied to me. Or at least omitted important information. Learning to play chess, at least to any serious level, is more than just learning the basic moves of the pieces.

It turned out that over the years players had built up a “book” of opening moves that had been tried and tested and their value judged. The Queen’s Gambit is one of these openings!

Not knowing these moves, I found myself at a disadvantage from the get go. So I invested in a book. For me, it was the even-then-outdated Manual of Chess by Emanuel Lasker which, in archaic language, takes the reader from the basic rules to, theoretically, chess mastery (I’ve yet to get there but I also have never actually finished reading it so who knows). I’m sure there’s lots of other great books with more updated info and glossier pictures that would do the same thing.

3. It is fine to play just for fun

Anyway, my point is this: if you have just got into chess and you just want to play a bit for fun then that’s great! In that case, honestly you can ignore the books and just go have fun. That’s a perfectly legitimate way to enjoy the game and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

4. Research can be fun and will make you great

If, on the other hand, you want to get good at chess beyond a sort of beginner-level good, then my friend, you need a book. You do not need to memorize set moves. Some people will tell you do. YOU DO NOT. In fact, one of the things Lasker is quite clear about is that people who memorize rules or set moves eventually run into trouble because, to him (and let’s remember he was the longest ever reigning world champion), chess is about critical thinking. He advises his students to play through the different openings, learning the principles underlying them - why one position is strong or another weak – and as you play you will start to recognize the patterns, but if you try to memorize a pet opening then you’ll come unstuck as soon as your opponent plays something they weren’t supposed to. And if you don’t want to read a book, there are some great online programmes out there. Chess.com have some really fantastic video lessons from beginner level right up to Master level.

And if you don’t have anyone to play with, somewhere like Chess.com is great because you’ll get a rating – once it’s levelled off after a few games, the rating means you’ll be paired against players of a similar strength so you’ll hopefully not lose all the time!

BONUS IMAGE: My old and battered copy of Lasker’s Manual

#chess #learn to play chess #the queen's gambit #chess beginner #beth harmon

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this-is-quite-homoerotic · 3 years

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About the Year That Never Was

(Disclaimer: this is a theory I’m building up from the season finale of s3 - The Sound of Drums/The Last of the Time Lords; I haven’t put it to the test fully yet, I’d need to rewatch to see if it holds up across the board, but I needed to start putting my thoughts down. If you have any thoughts on how this works in other seasons, whether proving or disproving this, I’d love to hear it.)

Something I haven’t seen discussed (though I’m sure it has been, by many people before me, and if you have it on hand link me please) is the implicit hierarchy of characters in the Whoniverse that dictate not only that bigger main characters are generally the only ones who can defeat the big antagonists, but also that the story and perspective of characters lower down in the hierarchy are often sacrificed in favor of wrapping up the big characters’ narrative neatly. And I think the higher the Doctor values each companion correlates to how high they are on this hierarchy.

(This is made a little more complicated by the incongruency of the stakes across episodes, like having the Doctor struggle to defeat one single Dalek in some episodes, with tens or even hundreds of casualties before they succeed vs the Doctor managing to foil millions of Daleks with no or few casualties in a different episode. But I still think my point stands.)

So, for example, the Doctor, and to a slightly lesser extent whatever favoured companions they’re travelling with at the time, are the highest protagonists in the hierarchy at any given time. So Rose Tyler can defeat a Dalek with the power of human empathy, or grind millions of Dalek ships to dust by looking into the heart of the TARDIS and becoming the Bad Wolf. She’s high up on the list, maybe as high as the Doctor himself. In comparison, Martha Jones saves the world not in one moment of heroism or through alien means, but the human way, by travelling the world and telling the Doctor’s story, his point of view. And even after all that, all her hard work amounts to is freeing the Doctor from his literal cage and restoring him to his healthy young-looking body, effectively turning them back to the same situation they were in during their first confrontation: the Doctor, Martha and Jack facing the Master in the Valiant, surrounded by the Master’s lackeys. The only difference is there’s been one year of suffering in between. (And, okay, she breaks the Master’s spell by breaking the network when it’s weak or something, but by that point, the Master wasn’t relying on brainwashing anymore, he was flat out murdering tyrant by then, ruling through brute strength with the help of the Toclafane and the paradox machine.)

It’s interesting to see the role Jack gets in this whole situation: he’s basically the damsel in distress/immortal punching bag, who barely has any hand in defeating the Master (okay, okay, he helps take the paradox machine apart, but he’s been the Master’s prisoner for a year and put in a position where it’s shown his attempts at fighting back were completely ineffective, an annoyance at best). His position is during that year parallel to the Doctor’s, who was also imprisoned by the Master on the Valiant, with the difference that as soon as his agent’s efforts have been set up (Martha roaming the world telling his story), it is him, the Doctor, who is supposed to actually defeat the Master. Martha’s efforts were only so that he would be in a position to do his thing.

Now, to be fair, most stories are framed around certain main characters; there are metatextual reasons to do this and most stories rely on having main and secondary characters, this is not necessarily a problem. What I am taking issue with is how these secondary characters were written in a way which I don’t think fully makes sense, they are deprived of agency, not only in the most literal sense of not being able to physically interfere with the Master’s plans, but also by not being allowed to express what seems to me to be the rational response to being kidnapped and psychologically (if not physically) tortured for a year.

Francine shows anger, but it is quickly culled (too quickly imo). Martha shows defiance, but ultimately her sacrifice and all her efforts are setting up the Doctor to... what? Take the Master by the scruff of the neck like a naughty puppy and put him into the TARDIS? (Martha is actually the one with the most agency, so I’m not sure she belongs on this list.) And of course, Jack. Jack who the Doctor abandoned and ran from, who waited for the Doctor for over a hundred years only to discover he’d developed a gut-reaction of disgust for him to the point where he couldn’t stand to be around him because he feels “wrong”. Jack who the Master kept in chains and who the Doctor unthinkingly volunteers whenever a task needs to be done but cannot be easily survived by a mortal person.

Then the typical hierarchy is subverted in a way I found fascinating, by Lucy, the Master’s human wife (who it is heavily implied he abuses). Lucy, who was the only one to agree to be there rather than be kidnapped (though I wouldn’t be surprised if there was coercion involved) and who was likely abused by the sadist she’d agreed to marry, was a small throwaway character who takes the plunge and shoots one of the biggest antagonists of the show, despite the Doctor and his companions being right there (and Martha’s mum being talked down which I will never forgive; they really had a black woman being imprisoned and abused by a white-looking alien from a ‘’superior’’ race pass up the opportunity to kill her abuser - who was also a genocidal maniac who manipulated her and had been hunting down her daughter - because... why? Because the Doctor still likes him and wants to redeem him? Fuck that).

And then Lucy’s initiative is later punished by the narrative: Lucy is taken by the Master’s followers, imprisoned and then sacrificed to enable his return, not even in a different form. Lucy would have killed that one incarnation of the Master, not a small feat for a lowly small human character in the series, but no. He doesn’t even regenerate, just comes back the same.

I feel like this nullifies the power of having one small-to-the-story human be the one to kill the Master, and I also think that having the Doctor beg the Master to regenerate in front of all the people the Master had maimed and abused (Martha’s family, Jack, Lucy, etc.) or hunted down (Martha) for the past year was a disgrace, and everyone there should have been angry at the Doctor over it, but not a single one of them is shown even bringing it up, much less expressing being hurt or angry, which brings me back to the point I made at the beginning that the perspective and stories of those lower down are sacrificed for those at the top of the hierarchy: specifically here the Doctor and the Master. By this I mean not only that these characters aren’t allowed to touch the main antagonist, but also that they are not allowed enough agency to cross or even question the main character (the Doctor) when his actions are questionable or personally hurtful to them.

So am I forgetting some vital facts here? Am I just a salty Torchwood fan who needs to let go of her anger about how the frenemy dynamic between the Doctor and the Master was prioritised over the Doctor’s friendship with his actual companions (and also the wellbeing of all of humanity, since we saw what the Master’s plans were for Earth during the Year That Never Was)? I feel like the Doctor would not have sat idly by if it had been Rose that was being held captive by the Master instead of Jack. And this has more to do with how the writers and showrunners view the characters than anything else, do not misunderstand me: I am 100% posing this as a Doylist issue.

#Doctor Who #Torchwood #meta #my ramblings #i have Thoughts #all this because i want smaller characters to bash the Simm!Master's head in basically #i think Gwen and/or Ianto should have been allowed to shoot him full of bullets but the fact that Jack himself -much higher on the hierarchy #since he is a smaller companion in the main series (but never a main companion like Rose or Martha or Donna etc.) - was not even allowed #to fight him properly and was instead written off as unable to even fight back/escape............ yeah #there was no way they were going to let Torchwood show up and fight

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wensvol · 2 years

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Um do you dislike all the x reader fics?? (if you do that's alright,I don't wanna argue) but do you also hate those fics where there's only fluff or angst or hurt/comfort??

I understand you, I also hate the smut fics very much, like PLS THEY'RE MINORS😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I hope you are doing well tho :)

absolutely not, i used to read them when i was younger. but there’s just so much smut being written about minors that i also disprove of the “normal” smut x reader fics THOSE writers write. if you write x reader, good for you, if you make it 18+, do the same to the characters. but do not age them up. i also don’t like how they’re often very out of character for a lot of ccs they involve and turn them into a sex god. then it’s just writing smut but with a random characters name on it. if i still read them i know i’d prefer a fic where a character is written accurately over one that’s just a rip off wattpad romance. there’s so many opportunities to expand a character based on what canon gives you but a lot of people (definitely not all of them) ignore this for the sake of more notes.

and for my taste in fanfiction: i do love angst a lot. but if i fall for the writer’s style, i can read about anything from them. the one thing (from many) i hate is sloppy endings.

i hope you’re also doing well, have a good day :)

#anon.asks #i just view them from a writer’s pov nowadays #and as writer with a lot of original characters i know i’d hate it if my fans purely wrote smut #and also mischaracterised my characters at that

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xplrerdolan · 4 years

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an analysis on and rant about what stan twitter did to grayson dolan:

as i mentioned earlier, i have quite a bit to say about the twitter stans trying to cancel the twins because of something they talked about on their podcast. not only do i have my own personal opinions on it, i also want to shed some light on the direction cancel culture has taken and why it’s so vile.

for context, here’s a transcription of what a very small but loud group of people are “upset” about: “people just want you to not be sober and not be on a diet, because, y’know, they-they kinda feel like shit that they’re not.” - ethan. also during the podcast, grayson mentions, vaguely, that he’s had an unhealthy relationship with food in the past, as did ethan. ethan later identified the problems as being eating disorders. from what i’ve seen on twitter, people mention either/or rather than both aspects when talking about why it should have had a trigger warning. for some people, the whole issue was the nine second clip of what ethan said. others said they were triggered by the mention of eating disorders.

let’s get into this, shall we?

first of all, let me identify myself as a fat girl who is the furthest thing from sober. my entire life, i have been criticized by my family and the world around me for my weight. i’m at a point in my life where i embrace being fat, and i am comfortable with it, which i constantly have to justify. i am directly affected by diet culture, fatphobia, and eating disorders. i personally struggle with disordered eating—different from an eating disorder in that i have a generally unhealthy relationship with food—and what they said does not warrant a trigger warning.

why? because they’re not talking about needing to be on a diet. they’re not shitting on people who aren’t on a diet. they aren’t forcing their diet & healthy eating onto us as an audience. they also didn’t talk about their eating disorders on the podcast; they said they might talk about it later. what they are doing is being condescending—but let’s unpack that quickly.

their condescension is not targeted or directed at us. it is directed toward people who try to pressure them to do things for instant gratification. specifically, other influencers and hollywood as a whole. not to mention, he’s clearly suggesting that people who try to get them to break their sobriety or their diets are the ones who probably feel shitty about themselves for not doing those things. idk about the rest of y’all but i’ve never seen any fans trying to pressure them into getting off their diet or drinking. so, it’s clearly not directed at any of us.

hollywood is hedonistic. the whole aesthetic of youth, the advertisement of satisfaction is rooted in indulgence. maintaining a healthy diet, just like sobriety, is the complete opposite of that.

the snark and the comparison to sobriety are there because he’s annoyed with others trying to pressure him into enjoying his youth “like he should;” a standard set by culture that he & grayson don’t want to participate in for personal reasons. let me remind you that we do not know what they hear from other influencers. we have not been surrounded by a group of other influential people—really influential, not your peers in high school—who are trying to get us to just have one little drink, or just have one little milkshake, or just eat one little burger. connections matter in hollywood. consider how separate the twins seem from other influencers—do you think that’s merely coincidental? i can almost promise you it’s not. they likely avoid people who pressure them one too many times or who put them at risk of disappointing themselves because they might succumb to peer pressure.

what i’m saying here is ethan was projecting. he was projecting his annoyance, frustration, and perhaps some amount of bitterness or general bad feelings in a way that protected himself. yes, it’s a little condescending because a lot of his fans—including myself—might struggle with diet culture or sobriety, or some of us might make choices in our lives that differ from theirs so it feels mildly offensive or just makes you feel bad. i’ll admit that when i first heard it, i was a little put off for a second. but then, i did precisely what so many twitter stans need to do: i got the fuck over it. because i’m not so unsympathetic that i can’t imaging that maybe their life looks a liiiittle different from mine, and i’m not so self-centered to believe that one passing comment applies to me or was ever intended to hurt me personally.

yes, delivery and effect matters more than intention. and if anyone was genuinely offended or triggered, yes, that warrants apology. but it doesn’t obliterate intention. intention matters.

onto my next point: responsibility. i believe people are responsible for correctly labelling potentially triggering information. BUT that doesn’t necessarily mean that you put a trigger warning on a podcast because of one passing comment and the mention of eating disorders. it’s not as though the twins were mocking them or carelessly talking about their experiences—which i note would be careless because eating disorders are a social disease and they get stronger with validation from others as well as through normalization of the disorder. by normalization, i mean saying things or making jokes that encourage one to restrict or to binge. knowing that they did none of that, and that people’s primary issue (what ethan said) was a major misunderstanding, it’s pretty clear that they were under no obligation to put a trigger warning.

now, let’s consider the following: the twins have recently been being more open with us about their insecurities, especially ethan. while talking about what helped him get to a point where he’s comfortable with his acne, he mentions that working out and taking care of himself physically played a huge part in that. in addition to the last two recent points of discussion on their platforms and channel, they have also been sharing their journey through veganism and are very excited about how great they feel because of it.

taking all of that into account, if you know that you’re at such a sensitive point in your recovery or your disorder (which is nothing to be ashamed about, i’d like to note) that someone mentioning their own diet, their view of their own diet, or just the general existence of eating disorders is enough to trigger you, you have to understand that you have a responsibility to avoid potentially triggering content. excluding their eating disorders, we all knew about their recent healthy vegan diet and their devotion to maintaining their physique. i mention this because it seems as though the people who are upset would’ve been triggered by the latter two things regardless—it’s not the words “eating” and “disorder” that suddenly break you like a hypnotic command, it’s the whole premise of two guys talking about how physically fit they are and how healthy they’ve been eating. since this is what they’ve been talking about recently and this is what’s going on in their life, you have to be responsible enough to not seek out or engage with something that could be triggering to you. you need to step away from those things yourself and come back to them when you are capable of hearing about someone else’s healthy choices without internalizing that information and inflicting it upon yourself.

i find it also incredibly important to note that the language ethan uses is very clearly a way to defend himself and ward off anyone who disagrees with his dietary choices. it’s his way of validating himself. which, if you’ve been paying attention, is a sign that he’s insecure about his diet to begin with; if you have more than three brain cells, you should be able to figure out from that fact alone that even if he didn’t have an eating disorder, he clearly has issues with eating. which is why i think nitpicking a nine second clip out of a 45-50ish minute episode of a podcast is absolutely disgusting to me; look at what’s happened now. in their lack of consideration for what he might be going through, despite them literally telling us that they have struggled with eating disorders in the past, they essentially ended up “outing” him. at least, i’ve spent enough time listening to that clip and typing up this analysis of the situation to see it that way.

the last overarching thing i’d like to talk about here is the how this whole situation demonstrates the dangerous and frankly disgusting turn that cancel culture has taken in recent times. cancel culture is no longer expository; it has evolved to be exploitative. people take any opportunity to cancel someone in the hopes that they get attention and validation from others. i believe—and i urge you to read this part carefully and to not misconstrue my intentions or meaning when i say this—that we have pushed the idea that we should support, trust, and listen to the disenfranchised to a degree that we no longer allow any space for critical thinking and analysis of a certain claim. LET ME BE PERFECTLY AND COMPLETELY CLEAR. this does NOT mean that a white person can analyze a BIPOC’s experience with racism to dismiss it, it does NOT mean that nonvictims can analyze a victim’s allegations against someone to disprove it, and thus, it does NOT mean that any oppressor of any kind can apply their ignorant, blind assumptions to any oppressed person’s claims to disqualify what they have said.

with that being said, the reason i mention this is because there are going to inevitably be people, like whoever started this whole mess, who make claims that are either false, dramatized, or that are based on misunderstandings. a part of me wants to believe that the person who initially claimed to be triggered by what ethan said misheard him or took what he said personally when they should not have. if we encouraged people to have discussions about these things, then perhaps someone would’ve pointed out to them that no where in that statement does he shame people for not being on diets or for not being sober. rather, he was projecting his feelings of being criticized onto those who criticize him.

now, the other possibility (that i would rather not believe) is that this person—the first person to say something—picked out a nine second segment of the podcast where ethan said something less than positive and went out of their way to make it seem like an issue. still, the same problem ensues: we’ve created such a culture that if you challenge the position of the accuser then you’re simply brainwashed by the accused and you’re part of the problem.

i can say with utmost certainty that even if the first person to complain about the clip hadn’t intended to make something out of nothing, a fair 90% of them who said blatantly disrespectful things to ethan and grayson DEFINITELY just wanted to hop on a bandwagon. there was one girl who replied to grayson several times, claiming that what they had said was VERY triggering to a lot of people, but within her frantic outcry for an apology from him, she admitted that she herself wasn’t triggered and didn’t even struggle with an eating disorder, before proceeding to tell someone else who does have an eating disorder that if they weren’t triggered it’s not their place to say the twins don’t have to apologize.

......................since the girlies from the bird app like to lurk here, let me spell that one out for y’all:

✨stop demanding apologies that you cannot accept✨

hopefully that gets through to them. because this is the second time in a row that they’ve gone ahead and demanded apologies from the twins that they cannot accept. the heteros were down their throats about the f-slur (which i use in reclamation as it has been used against me personally but i won’t repeat here on the off chance that someone is hurt by it).

it’s so painfully obvious that they’re doing it for likes, retweets, and replies. whether they want people to argue with them or just want attention, they’re hiding behind the guise of caring about a very serious issue and speaking FOR the people who might be offended. i believe people like this noticed a pattern under celebrity tweets when BLM was the center of discussion on twitter. if a celebrity wasn’t talking about BLM, people were under that tweet demanding that they did. those tweets would often get a lot of interactions from people who agreed that someone with a platform should speak up. and since local stan twitter does nothing but regurgitate what’s “trending,” they’re trying to find any reason to be the social justice warrior precisely no one asked them to be and absolutely no one needs them to be.

i don’t think that anyone really needs me to explain why they should be ashamed of themselves, but in case one of them is floating around: it’s because when a bunch of people demand an apology for a non-problem, gang up on that person, flood their replies with nothing but those demands in hopes that someone with as much sense as them on twitter-dot-fucking-com will engage with it and maybe join their futile efforts, it leads to people having to expose a part of themselves that they wanted to keep private. it’s a violation not only of their privacy, but of their emotional consent and the boundaries they had set up.

i’d like to leave anyone guilty of contributing to this situation with this to consider: they start to open up to us more, they start to be more honest with us, they try their best to show us their appreciation for support, and as soon as they mention having an eating disorder it’s a personal attack on you and they need to apologize for it? or worse—someone else said that it was a personal attack on them so you reply five separate times even though it’s not your apology to accept and therefore is not your apology to ask for. it’s bitches like you who make them keep everything vague and private. i don’t even want to consider what they’re going through right now; it breaks my heart to imagine how badly they’re hurting. all for likes and retweets on the fucking bird app. let me know what that gets you in five years.

#pers #rant #the dolan twins #ethan dolan #grayson dolan #podcast 23 #deeper with the dolan twins #tw: eating disorder mention #tw: eating problems #tw: ed mention #tw: ed #tw: eating disorder #tw: diet culture

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cas-kingdom · 3 years

Note

Would you be up to answering 10, 15, 29, and 31 for any of the OCs from the DWCs that you're feeling a bit stuck on? Or any OCs you're feeling, really. I'm not picky. Hope this helps with mission: write or that you at the very least have some fun with it. :)

To be honest, this would totally help. I’ll have a go (thank you, saviour).

You all know I write my OCs as readers considering the reader inserts are wildly sought after on this site lol. BUT I adore writing about my OCs & have tons of stories with them that I keep to myself and read when I’m down, so here we go!

The 4 I’ve yet to write include Tallulah Cullen (Twilight), Matilda Northman (True Blood), Akela (The Witcher) & Clark Kent’s sister, who I’m yet to create an OC for (atm my only JL OC is Arthur Curry’s sister, Ani) so I won’t write these questions for her considering I don’t really know her.

WARNING: this is going to get long. I apologise & a big pat on the back to whoever actually reads it.

10) How open is your oc to trying new things? Are they the adventurous sort, or would they rather stay in their comfort zone? Why?

Tallulah: I think, honestly, Tallulah’s been a vampire so long she’s not sure she has anything new left to try lol. She’s older than her siblings by a lot and is often lost with these kinds of things. Though if there is ever anything new, I’d say she’d be absolutely open to trying them out! During the events of the books/movies, I’m sure there were many of these opportunities, what with Bella and the excitement and adventure she brought along with her. So, yes. No comfort zone for T, though perhaps there was one once.

Matilda: Tilly’s pretty restricted with what she can and can’t do (having Eric as your guardian will do that to you lol) but again, like Tallulah, with the events of the books/series, a lot happens that she’d be involved with, and it’s all a bit adventurous and out of her comfort zone. She’s used to the so-called quiet life, considering Eric keeps her out of his business so she remains safe, so after meeting Sookie and all the disruption she brings to her life, I’ve always thought it to be quite a big thing for her. As she grows older however, she certainly grows used to it, and perhaps rebels a bit against her guardian to join in on the excitement he’d rather she stay away from.

Akela: Akela’s whole life is trying new things. She never knows if her day will be quiet or not so much. If she’ll be sleeping under the stars or in an inn. If she’ll have a great, peaceful ride or someone will run up to them, thrusting money at Geralt and asking him to kill a monster. (Seems like a nicely spontaneous life, minus the monsters). Tbh I think she likes it. She’d like her life to be completely safe with no interruptions, but in all honestly she’d get bored after a while, and really, if her life was all sweet and honey, then Geralt wouldn’t be the same, and that’s the last thing she’d want. I think her comfort zone is very small, and not demanding at all. She’s ready to try whatever, as long as it guarantees her and her Witcher’s safety!

15) What is your oc’s favourite time of day? Why is this? Do they have a daily practice during this time?

Tallulah: I’ll be a bit stereotypical here and say her favourite time of day is night. She doesn’t sparkle, she can blend in with the humans completely... and I guess she just likes it in general because of the dark, and the peace that often offers. She sometimes goes hunting with her family in the dark, and she has many memories of those times that she holds onto.

Matilda: Yet another vampiric-stereotypical answer, but Tilly’s favourite time of day is definitely the exact moment the sun is out of sight. Because then Eric’s instantly safe, and she can spend as much time with him as his ‘duties’ and his job allows. Another human’s favourite time might be day, because that’s when the most happens, and Tilly’s is night for the exact same reason. To her it’s simply normal - she’s always slept during the day to adhere to her vampire guardians’ routine - and she knows no difference.

Akela: Night. (Apparently all my OCs are night owls, guys). She likes her evenings and her nights, right before she sleeps, because most of her memories from those times are of her lying next to Geralt on blankets, under a starlit sky. It’s totally quiet, save for the nightlife, and the two of them can just lie there and let the trials of the day wash away as they stare at the stars. A simple delight.

29) How empathetic is your oc? Or are they closer to being a sociopath? Any reason why?

Tallulah: Hundreds of years as a vampire has definitely made Tallulah more in touch with people’s emotions. She 100% takes after her father in the compassion side of things. He’s taught her to hang onto most of her humanity, and she’s never fed from a human in her life. I can’t see her hurting a fly. Sociopath? Never.

Matilda: Tilly... is perhaps more sociopath than empath, but that’s something that changes over the years. She’s young at the beginning of the show, and she worships Eric and (discreetly) wants to follow him wherever he goes. That doesn’t change so much, but she finds herself over time, and learns to give in to her human instincts. I definitely think Eric’s growing appreciation for humans after meeting Sookie makes her more aware of her true self, and she makes friends she wouldn’t have ever thought about making, and generally just becomes less afraid to be herself. She learns to understand people’s feelings - and her own - which is something she probably found difficult to do when solely around vampires. (Though in saying that, she probably begins to learn a lot more about how Eric’s feeling. That’s shown in the DWC I’ve yet to write lol).

Akela: For as much as Akela loves Geralt, and for as much as she grew up under his guiding hand, she certainly didn’t adopt his so-called ‘emotionless’ Witcher persona. Really, that’s a victory on Geralt’s side. She’s 100%, totally human, and that’s something he wouldn’t take away from her (tbh he does his best to keep her away from anything Witcher-y that could change her from who she perfectly is). But, in all honesty, I do think Akela gets her selfless and empathetic nature from Geralt. Discreetly, of course. That guy is a different person when he’s with her, though it might be difficult to see, and he’s honestly just a Good Dad, however much he’d strive to disprove it.

31) What is your oc’s sense of humour like? What do they find funny? Do they try to be funny? Are they actually?

Tallulah: Tallulah has big brothers. I think that speaks for itself. XD Though perhaps not all of them... mainly Emmett and Jasper. And Alice. They like to make her laugh. Probably Emmett’s main goal in life. BUT, similar to the first question, Tallulah is an old vampire, and she’s probably heard most jokes and developed a sense of humour that’s different to the others’, if that makes sense. Though I’ve always had her as the vampire who was turned at 16 and, in all honesty, is still 16, deep deep down. Her maturity isn’t crazily more than any other 16 yo’s.

Matilda: God. I don’t think she’d have much of a sense of humour. Tilly’s life is vampires, blood, ‘stay away from humans despite being human’... when she meets Sookie and the others, and her humanity starts shining, her sense of humour becomes more human. She can joke around without worrying that Eric will take it too seriously or Pam will insult her (Pam insults everyone but she still loves Tilly, don’t worry). So, yeah. Matilda’s life doesn’t leave much room for humour, but it sneaks in somehow as the years go on - not to mention Eric’s not an ass to her and does treasure her smile and her laugh above all else in his long life.

Akela: Oh, Akela lives on humour. She loves to insult Geralt, and he loves to insult her right back. That’s just them. And it’s pretty damn perfect. Not to mention when Jaskier joins their dysfunctional family, you’d be pretty robotic to not laugh or smile even once when in his presence. As for if Akela’s actually funny... I’d say definitely. She counts it a victory if she says something and Geralt’s lips turn upwards the tiniest bit. Making a Witcher smile is something to celebrate.

Whoo. I loved that. Now to go write.

(That last bit was a joke. Unfortunately).

#ask

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phantomphangphucker · 4 years

Text

Legless On Maim Chap. 8: Crime And Time Makes Me Fine. NOT.

Danny messes with a cop, Lewis messes with a ghost, Vee messes with a Eddie, ClockWork messes with EVERYBODY. And while Danny loves ClockWork, he also thinks they’re an absolute bastard.

Danny gets awoken almost violently and promptly slips off the branch he had climbed up onto. Deciding to just stay laying on the ground groaning rather than deal with his friends; especially hearing them laughing at him.

“Now that’s some quality blackmail material”.

“Dude! Wow you were not kidding!”.

Danny just groans again as Tucker tosses a pair of pants over his face. Fine, he appreciates actually having pants now -even if they weren’t on him, at least not in the way he’d like them to be- but knowing his friends they were probably patterned embarrassingly. Blinking open his eyes and blowing air strong enough at them to make them float up into the air, effectively confirming a stupid pattern; fucking pink with hearts, motherfuckers. “Jerks”.

Sam smirks and puts a hand on her hip as Danny pushes himself to sit up, “courtesy of my folks' refusal to accept that I’m not their personal dress-up doll”.

Danny snorts, “you’d think they'd give you more heartfelt gifts for a change, instead of using the opportunity to try and make you have a fashionable change of heart”. Earning matching groans and making him smirk. Getting up and flipping them off while hopping to get the (very hideous)pj’s on.

Tucker points at him, “least your legs clearly work”.

“Tuck pal, I think I’d be having a fair few fucking crises if they didn’t”, patting the pants off before straightening up and gesturing exaggeratedly at his legs, “I’m having a crisis as it is. The fuck am I supposed to do with this? How the fuck am I supposed to explain this guys?!?”, gesturing even more wildly, “I. Have. Legs. Again. They were cut off, and now. They. Are. Back. Is there any section of the endless expanse of the Zone where I am not fucked”.

Tucker shrugs, “body paint? Sam is rich enough for an endless supply”. Sam glares at him, crosses her arms, and then uncrosses them just to smack him over the head, “I am not a walking wallet!”.

Danny points aggressively at Tucker, “my folks are not utterly blind, Tuck”, shrugging, “sure it’s a close thing, but still”, glaring, “and that will immediately fall apart as soon as they want to do a systems check or something. Heck! They haven’t even gotten the CyberSteps working yet. Meaning I still got to test prototypes, which is literally impossible to do with having freaking legs again!”.

Sam and Tucker share a look, Sam shaking her head, “you could just be honest? They were chill with a bloody ghost Core, Danny, I think they can handle legs”.

Danny glares, “Cores and ghostly tails are solid ecto-energy, not flesh and blood and bone. It’s not the same. That shit can, apparently, just be explained away by me having a somewhat awakened ghost. Legs, fleshy human legs, are not a ghost thing”.

Tucker shrugs, “could just pitch it as ghostly healing? Though yeah, you almost might as well just tell them everything at this point”.

Danny huffs, he had a point. Considering the sheer amount of ghostly weirdness his folks have just accepted at this point. But still, the whole ‘I’m half ghost! Surprise!’ was more than just being half ghost. It also meant admitting he was Phantom and had been hiding and lying for two whole years. It meant his parents facing the fact that their life's work was effectively responsible for killing their son. That they had spent years telling him to his face how much they really badly and painfully wanted to dissect and destroy him. That they actually had tortured him once and injured him on nearly a weekly bases. Then there was the fact that they saw him get tossed around, impaled, stabbed, lit on fire, gutted, decapitated, cut in half, electrocuted, maimed, shot, and other things he’s probably forgetting, pretty much every day; and they just watched and did nothing to help.

Sure he didn’t resent them for all of that, how could he? they didn’t know. But they would be crushed and hurt, that mattered. And that’s without even mentioning that he would effectively disprove most of their work. And yeah, they had made some headway recently and were finally recognising that created ghosts at least could be a thing. Maybe, just maybe, born ghosts too. Ancients, they were only just now starting to listen to him. Willing to face and accept that ghosts might not be the evil emotionless monsters they always thought they were. Is it so terrible that he'd like them to not hate ghosts before finding out that he was one???

Apparently the universe thought so.

But no, fuck it. He will take this secret fully to the grave before the universes crap -which the Observants probably played a role in because they hate him and want him to suffer- forces this secret to light. Fuck the universe and it’s bullshit. Groaning at the sky anyway, “you know, I always imagined it would be something crazy, utterly impossible, undeniably ghostly; that would bang me up in a life-changing way. Would force secrets to light. Not something so damn simple, so normal, so human; as a car crash”.

Both of them chuckle at him and move to pat at his shoulders. Tucker snorts, “I think it was more car ‘massacre’ than car ‘crash’”. Danny shoves him a little because people fucking died.

Sam shakes her head though, “you’re not going to tell them, are you?”.

Danny snorts and shakes his head a little; happily taking the slight distraction, “naw. Maybe someday, but that someday is not today. Fuck the universes shitty sense of comedic timing”, crossing his arms and glaring down at his legs. He can still feel the whole bandage booty shorts situation, embarrassing but fuck it. He’s going to make Lewis have to witness his shit. Even if it probably won’t make his eyeballs bleed, that guy has seen way too much weird shit to suffer mental ocular trauma from anything. But still.

Tucker and Sam exchange a Look before looking back to Danny and speaking in sync, “spite”.

Danny nods with a slight smirk, “is there ever a better reason?”.

Getting another in synch response, “not dying... further”. Danny waves them off like he couldn’t care less.

Sam shakes her head, “on a slightly serious note, what’s the plan?”.

Danny shrugs, “well should see if I even can still modify my ghostly body on a molecular level to turn solid limbs into a gas”.

Tucker snickers, “and like everything else about you, when you say it technically it sounds like some body horror shit”. Danny just finger-guns at him before going ghost and easily changing to his ghostly tail; promptly doing jazz hands.

Sam and Tucker nod, Tucker pointing at him, “well that solves that, dude”, continuing at Danny’s raised confused eyebrow, “Danny-dude, just do that half transformation thing and leave your lower half in ghost mode”.

Sam smirks and nods, turning to Tucker and talking like this has already been decided as the plan of attack, “then we can just wrap bandaging over his Phantom legs before he switches to a tail, getting the bandaged look”. Tucker hums his agreement.

Danny sticks his arms out to the side and looks almost offended, “do you know how hard half transforming is to maintain? There’s a reason I never do that shit for more than emergencies or quick jokes”.

Sam rolls her eyes at him, “deal with it”. Danny flips her off. Though really, not much of another option. Having a ghost tail in human form was drastically harder to have and maintain than half transforming.

Danny transforms his upper half back human because, eh why not? And he’s been gone for a while. Chuckling down at the black ghostly tail before smirking at his friends, “I’m three halves of a whole now. Half a body, half transformed, and half-ghost in two different ways. I don’t think anyone ever put this much effort into half-assing so many things. All because so much of me just keeps on dying. I’m a real die-hard you could say. Really killed any effort for a fully functioning life. My apparent partial lifelessness isn’t a real tear-jerker apparently, so maybe I should add some flavour and start halving onions”.

Tucker grabs Danny’s head and shoves him into the dirt; even if they’re all laughing a bit.

It takes a while before they all calm down, laying in the grass and staring up at the sky. Tucker being the first to speak up again, “so, hows it feel to be amongst the legged again?”.

Danny changes back fully human and crosses his ankles, “very leggy”, earning a round of snorts. Honestly, it was a bit weird. Especially feeling fabric over leg skin for the first time in days. He also has never been so aware over how much legs weigh. Sure his human form was always heavier than his ghost one, but wow legs weigh a lot. Well technically legs and pelvis. And it was also weird that having legs again felt weird; really it should feel like a return to normalcy, instead the leglessness had become like normalcy, Either it was really easy to get used to or he was one overall adaptable son of a corpse. It was probably the latter.

The three scrunch their faces up and groan in sync as it starts raining, lightly at first before suddenly coming down in a torrential downpour; resulting in them scrambling up. Danny transforming and grabbing them up, intangibly and invisibly flying them back to his house. Returning to the visible spectrum in his room.

Sam takes two steps before stepping in something definitely still wet and grimacing at Danny, “this is why we never take our shoes off”. Danny just shrugs her off while changing back human, feet planting on the ground with a little plop, and flopping face down onto his bed.

His friends following suit on top of him. Tucker muttering, “ow”, after basically smashing his forehead into Danny’s shoulder brace.

Danny snorts, “I’m not paying for your concussion treatment”.

Seconds later Jazz practically slams the door open, “finally, where have you been Danny???”. Managing to actually startle Danny (since his nose was blocked by his bed), who startles everyone else by pushing himself up so fast his braces make concerning cracking sounds and his very human legs suddenly becoming a ghostly tail; which completely off balances him and, combined with his momentum, sends him falling to the floor. Landing on his ass/tail base with a startled ‘oof’, just as Maddie sticks her head in the doorway.

Maddie blinks and looks slightly apologetic, assuming she startled him enough for him to mess up with the floating, “oh sorry sweetie, I came up to let you two, four now I guess, know that supper will be ready in half an hour”, then scrunching up her face and realising something’s not right here. Pointing at his tail, “why is It pink, and covered in hearts?”.

Danny has to physically bite his tongue to avoid gapping as he glances down at his tail. What the fuck. It has never been that easy in human form? And he wasn’t even having to maintain it? The fuck?

Sam comes to his rescue near-instantly though, “uh, we wanted to see what would happen if he tried putting normal clothing over It and It just kinda absorbed it”. Maddie can’t help but smile at that, kids will be kids.

Danny awkwardly adding, “and it’s not like the, uh, bandaging is a forever thing, and, uh, I don’t think It would, like, look very good flesh-coloured?”. He, in fact, knew It wouldn’t. His mom makes a face and nods while his friends snicker at him, the assholes.

Maddie tilts her head, a little curious how his tail even did that. This didn’t happen when he had apparently had a hoodie draped over It when he first came home? Maybe -what she’s just going to assume is a ‘gift’ from Pamela for Sam. She will never see eye to eye with that woman. Sure her and Jack did push the kids to be hunters, but they didn’t try to control their entire lives- the pants were fairly tight around his tail? She’d ask but considering he looks a little startled, she’s not going to press. Shaking her head, “well hopefully you can undo it, in case this happens with any clothing you actually care about”, frowning slightly, “I also hope this doesn’t interfere with Dan’s work”.

Danny blinks, still confused enough by his body to be unphased by the Dan name, “uh, yeah don’t wanna go giving him a heart attack”. Everyone shakes their heads.

Maddie electing to head back to the kitchen, “I’ll call when foods ready”, the door closing behind her.

Sam and Tucker look to Danny’s pink heart-covered tail then to his face, “Danny, what the Hell”.

Danny throws up his hands, “I panicked alright!”.

“Since when does your panic help anything?!?”.

“Since now apparently!”.

Jazz blinks, “I’m going to guess this-”, gesturing at Danny’s tail, “- wasn’t intentional”, putting her hands on her hips, “and Danny, you are lucky mom just waved me off to go check on you and stayed in the lab. You’ve been missing for hours. You know how they get". Her chastising earning some apologetic neck rubbing, before Danny emphatically gestures at his tail which suddenly pops into pj-covered legs. Making her jump a little, “oh! Your legs! They grew back!”, quickly moving to sit down on the floor and grab at one of his bare feet. Then glaring at him for suddenly changing back to his tail; leaving her grasping onto the tip of his tail.

Sam and Tucker both jerk a bit from the sudden change themselves, before falling over laughing loudly, the pink heart-covered look was still not flattering. Danny looking baffled doesn’t help either. Though he does eventually snort and start snickering before flopping to lay on the floor laughing with them; Jazz just shakes her head at the trio's antics.

Danny snickers, “I guess the hearts really felt my hearts deepest desires! Really trying to be lovable! Since I was just being a total bleeding-heart earlier!”.

Jazz audibly scowls and stands up, “on that painful note, I'm going to help mom. I’m assuming this leg issue was why you just up and disappeared”. Shaking her head when Sam adds in, “and he fell asleep. In a tree”.

Danny throws out his hands, still laying on the ground, “it’s comfy!”, while Jazz heads downstairs.

Sam eventually glances at the calmly waving tail before looking back to the ceiling, “guess your body got so used to the tail that it comes easier now?”.

Danny huffs, “no fucking clue”, shrugging, “but probably. I doubt I’d even change back automatically from tiredness or sleeping or injury. So you can have your heart back”, intentionally turning back to legs purely to phase off the pj’s dramatically by flinging them up into the air; easily changing back to a bandage-looking tail. This kinda solved his problem, he still had a tail. Easily and naturally so. And! he had legs too! The best two for one deal ever! Which fine, he was glad to have again. Even though it was straight crazy that he could regrow entire limbs. Half his body pretty much. Sure Lewis has ‘said’ they were regrowing but them actually regrowing was a whole-ass-nother thing.

The three watch the pj’s float down out of the air onto their faces, Danny snickering and speaking mockingly, “ahhhh. Heart attack”. Earning hard hits from his friends.

Tucker rolls his eyes, “you already used that one today, and are you just going to stick with a tail all the time now?”.

Danny shrugs noncommittally. The answer was probably yes, in human form anyway. His friends obviously can tell he’s basically come to that decision since they both hit him again, Sam snapping without much feeling, “you fucking idiot”; everyone falling back into silence after,

Danny contentedly winding his tail around their legs. Which fine, he had become more than a little fond of being able to do that and his tail in general. He has a feeling ClockWork would, and probably is, actively smirking over him just sticking to a ghostly tail; just like them. Which yes, only serves to encourage Danny.

(Off in the far off realm of the Ghost Zone, a couple Observants hand trinkets over to ClockWork; having lost various bets. ClockWork simply smirks, one would think they’d know better by now. But no, most of their egos were a smidge too large. But it was a quite enjoyable way to teach the Observants a lesson about the future not being set in stone... And that Daniel tended to take the uncommon (and thus unviewable to the Observants) route)

Danny eventually grunting and lifts up his thermos with his tail, “so Skulker wants to harass the doc for my scraps”.

Tucker snorts, “poor bastard, only just met you and he’s already got a ghostly pest”.

“Oh I don’t know Tuck, seems more like a fast way to put whether or not the friendly-ish sorta cannibal can eat things past their expiration date to the test”. Danny would kinda like to know if Vee could eat him or not. Sure a human definitely couldn’t, ectoplasm was toxic after all. But again, fucking aliens. And Lewis seemingly thinks Vee can eat fucking everything.

Sam pushes herself up to glare down at him, “I find it seriously hard to believe a cannibal is ‘friendly’”. Tucker snickers, “yeah, probably steal your scraps from doctor dude or Skulker for a snack”.

Danny waves his hand around as much as the braces will let him, “oh he’s clearly a real people person. If they wanted my scraps they coulda just shown up in the amputee ward, they’d have some real meals on wheels then”.

Sam smacks him over the head with a very disgusted scowl, “your mind is a fucking sin and that so-called ‘diet’ is even worse”.

Danny smirks, “well if they feel like repenting via a little taste of religion, I know a few annoying priests that show up every month or so”. Seriously, he could really do without those type thinking ghosts were demons, or that Phantom was the ‘anti-Christ’, or Amity was a displaced section of Hell, or that Phantom was the second coming of Christ. Outside of the mixed messages, it was also supremely annoying.

All three jerk a bit from a very loud yell from Tucker’s pocket, “Jesus fucking Christ no! We are not eating a fucking priest! I’m not that depraved!-hey don’t you-I liked that coffee pot, you fucker and now look at it? It’s on the fucking ground. No I am not going to just ‘go get it’, you’re the one that chucked it out the window-no don’t you fucking-!”, followed by some scratching, clattering sounds, and a loud thump.

The three sit up and Tucker cautiously pulls out his PDA and everyone just stares at it. Danny tilting his head, he’s heard that voice before. Poking the PDA with his tail, “huh, I think Eddie hacked your PDA”.

Tucker gives him a look of deep offence before looking back to the PDA in question at the sound of a very long string of swears, “I’m going to fucking strangle you, I fucking swear. Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck you. I’m going to eat nothing but fucking pickles and salad dressing tonight-bitch don’t tempt me or I’ll set it on fire before I eat it-oh my god you baby”, there’s a bit of stomping and a slamming door, followed by what the three are assuming is the sound of glass jars hitting each other, “see look at these fucking pickles!-oh fucking watch me-oh fuck! Gak. They’re fucking expired. Oh god shit. Why me?-shut up bitch”.

Danny and Tucker both bend over wheezing, PDA falling unceremoniously onto the bed. While Sam raises her eyebrows and asks sounding almost annoyed, “why is eating veggies a threat? What’s so hard about eating vegetables? Seriously, what’s the hardest part of a vegetable to eat?”.

Danny snaps his head to her, grins, and shouts, “the wheelchair!”. Sam shoves him off the bed shouting, “that’s horrible!”. Danny just lets himself land on the floor.

“Oh shit! The phone’s still on. Fuck-WHY WOULD A VEGETABLE HAVE A WHEELCHAIR-different kind of vegetable, Vee. Use fucking Google. Living impaired guy, or whatever, is talking about people-PEOPLE ARE NOT VEGETABLES EDDIE! THEY DO NOT GROW IN DIRT-Jesus, just use fucking google holy shit. And-wait a minute, Dead Guy are you seriously using a fucking PDA? No way you’re not old using a fucking PDA, what is this? the fucking nineties?”.

Tucker straightens up and points aggressively at his PDA, “hey! You take that back! You’re gonna hurt Lisa’s feelings! PDA’s are a gift upon us all!”, snatching his PDA off the bed and rubbing his face on it, “don't listen to him sweetie, a phone could never keep up with all your glorious curves and circuits”.

“What the fuck? Is that what I sound like when I say Vee’s better than humans?-YES. LIKE A DUMBASS-fuck you-MY DUMBASS”. Tucker jerks away from the mic and everyone makes disgusted horrified faces at the strange kinda wet sounds.

Sam grimaces deeper, “should we ask?”.

Danny chuckles slightly, “considering Lewis’s tendril comments. No”. He so doesn’t want to hear about that.

A bunch of coughing sounds through the mic, “why is Dan telling people about my se-”, get cut off by the three teens shrieking or shouting and Danny shoving a pillow over the PDA. “NO!”.

Danny peals back the pillow and growls a little, “dude there are minors here, we don’t wanna hear about that shit. Oh my Zone. And I thought Lewis had a near nonexistent filter”.

“Eh whatever. Wait, how many people am I even talking to?-THREE, EDDIE. THERE’S THREE VOICES-well maybe I would have been paying attention to that if someone hadn’t tossed me out a fucking window-PUSSY-bitch”.

Tucker starts wheezing again, muttering, “how does this guy maintain a conversation with anyone?”. Which yeah, Danny slightly agrees with that sentiment.

“Hey, fuck you. It’s my job to talk to people. I’m pretty fucking good at it-OVER HALF THE PEOPLE YOU TALK TO TRY TO KILL US, EDDIE-bitch I don’t see you complaining about that when you get a snack out of it”.

Tucker wheezes a little more, “how have you not been arrested?”, while Danny and Sam scowl at the PDA in disgust.

Danny points at Tucker, “their city apparently supports their people eating. It’s, like, common knowledge”, Sam turns her disgusted scowl to him.

“Debatable. I think the cops are just scared we’ll eat them-WHICH WE WILL-no! We do not eat cops! How many times have I said that?-STILL GOING TO EAT THEM-no we will not!-EDDIE-no!-WHAT ABOUT CHOCOLATE DIPPED?-Jesus fuck. No”.

Sam mock gags, “could we not talk about eating people with a vegetarian present?”.

Tucker gives her a pouty face, “awww come on, we’ve all got our tastes”.

Danny points at him, “usually not people-flavoured though”.

“Isn’t it just like chicken though?”.

“No. No it’s not-MUCH BETTER!-I don’t think you’re a good judge of that babe-I AM AN EXCELLENT JUDGE. KLYNTAR HAVE MANY MORE TASTE BUDS THAN YOU FLESH BAGS”.

Tucker scoffs and crosses his arms, Danny’s already preparing for him to say something stupid. “I’m the real meat conisure here, I’ll be the judge of that”.

“Kid, did you seriously just ask-WE HAVE A SPARE LIVER IF YOU'RE CURIOUS-where the fuck did that come from!?!? Where even was that?!?! What the fuck Vee!?!!?! How many times have I said we don’t do take-out!-NOT AGAINST THE RULES IF NO ONE NOTICES-oh my god. That is not how rules, or the law for that matter, works”.

Danny shoves Tucker, “Tuck, what did I say about asking for snacks? Zone dude. Now they’re gonna show up with a fucking liver in a suitcase and with my luck someone else is gonna find that and think I murdered someone”.

“Finally got another name, nice. And eh you’d be surprised how easy it is to hide murder and body parts. And how much cops are willing to ignore”.

Sam snorts, “smooth spooky”.

Danny blushes a little, whoops, “you have no idea how bad my luck is”.

“Speaking of spooky, figured that echoey voice crap would sound way more fucked over the phone. You don’t even seem to have an echo. And blame whoever has the PDA, do you just not expect anyone to back-hack you? Sure that was some hard shit and I can’t access shit-”, Tucker beams very smugly at this, “-but you hacked me first. What was even the point of that? Even basic research makes it obvious dead guy is based in Amity Park. And you did that just to tell me I got your age wrong-HE’S MORE PETTY THAN YOU EDDIE-that is not a compliment”.

Danny smirks and transforms purely for his ghostly echoing voice, his friends rolling their eyes knowing exactly what he’s doing. Sam speaks almost dryly, “if anything ever gets spooky over here destroyed, it’ll be his sense of humour”.

Danny chuckles deeply, voice reverberating intentionally creepily, “it’ll be the death of me, seeing as I have killer timing”, waving his hand around, “and us spookies are petty creatures. We wear petty like it’s all that makes us pretty”.

“Huh, so you definitely can change your voice. Congrats Vee, your voice isn’t the only one that sounds ridiculously fucking demonic-APPROVE. FAR MORE THREATENING. LIKE A PREDATOR-I don’t think that counts as a compliment either babe-HE HUNTS HIS OWN! IT IS A COMPLIMENT!-eh, I guess? What’s up with that anyway, dead guy?-HE’S A PREDATOR, PREDATORS FIGHT, EDDIE. OBVIOUSLY-says the big bad predator who’d rather become one with the couch in a sea of chocolate wrappers and watch Alton Brown make people suffer-THEY DESERVE TO WEAR FLIPPERS AND ARM SPREADERS FOR BURNING THE LAMB!”.

Tucker nods his head a little, “yeah, burning lamb should be a crime”, while a little buzzing sound comes through the mic.

Danny rolls his eyes at him, “that’s the guy from Cut Throat Kitchen isn’t it? Doesn’t he buy stuff from BDSM stores for those challenges”. Tucker nods with a smirk, “and that’s kinky”, and gets smacked over the head by Sam.

Danny shakes his head and leans over the PDA, “I’m a protective fellow, I beat up ghosties to protect. Ya know, the typical hero schtick, but with death. It’s a real grim job, but I absolutely reap the rewards”, looking to Sam and Tucker, “one day I’m gonna cash in all these trauma points for a fucking yacht”.

Tucker quirks an eyebrow, “why a yacht?”. Sam adding, “you know I’ve got one. They’re okay”.

“One of you has a fucking yacht?!? Anne warned me I’d be out of my depth but holy fuck-NOT HARD WHEN YOU’RE PUSSY MADE-how the fuck do you know that term?!? And just eat your fucking tater tots”.

Danny snorts, “someone’s a real tater thot”, looking at Tucker, “one, because that’s one thing Frootloop doesn’t own”.

“Fair”.

“Wow you are really petty as shit”.

Danny scowls at the PDA, “dude fucking nearly caused the apocalypse, like, four bloody times”, rolling his hand, “and there’s the whole sorta have a daughter, or cousin, or sister, eh it changes; ‘cause of his cloning stunt-”.

Danny doesn’t get to continue as Vee butts in with, “WE’RE SPAWNING ASWELL-what, fucking what? What the fuck do you mean ‘spawning’? No you so do not get to hide in my body after that shit, get the fuck out here bitch. Oh my fuck, what the fuck. This is what Anne means by fucking communication issues. What the fuck you fuck. Jesus fucking Christ. What the fucking shit. That is not how you tell anyone anything, you fuck. Now I want a yacht to sail away from fucking everything and become a fucking pirate. Your oily ass will love that so much because there will be so many lobsters to shove up everyone's collective assholes but especially yours-SAME ASSHOLE SO GO AHEAD BITCH, THAT WOULD BE DELICIOUS-ha! Tricked you with the old lobster summoning, now the fuck do you mean spawning!-”

Tucker whispers, “Zone these guys have so many issues”. Sam and Danny just nod, not wanting to interrupt this because it is, frankly, hilarious.

“IT IS NATURAL EDDIE-I sure fucking hope so, otherwise we’ve got a fair few fucking problems going on-THEN STOP BEING A PUSSY WET BITCH-where do you learn this shit? Fucking fourchan? And excuse me for being an emotional asshole, asshole. I think I’ve fucking earned it considering-”.

All three teens turn their heads as Valerie flies in through the window and deactivates her board at seeing them sitting around a PDA but giving it a wide berth.

“-I’m apparently fucking pregnant!”.

Valerie blinks as her suit deactivates, “what have I just walked in on”. It sounds more like a cautious statement than a question.

Danny points at her, “technically, you flew”, she glares at him while he continues, “Eddie’s having some... issues, apparently”.

“‘Some’?”.

“Oh fuck the phones still on. You heard all of that didn’t you? Fuck-DUMBASS-fuck you, this is your fault. I need a fucking drink”.

Danny chuckles and smirks a bit meanly, “yes, yes we did”.

Valerie shakes her head and speaks down at the PDA, “are you okay?”.

“No”, Eddie promptly hanging up.

Valerie watching the other teens descend into fits of laughter for a bit before asking, “what did I miss?”.

Tucker wheezes, “probably one of the best random meltdowns ever”, smacking Danny’s arm braces, “you should probably warn doctor dude you gave his friend an accidental crises!”.

Danny just chuckles, he’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone swear that much that quickly. And considering he’s somewhat friends-ish with Johnny, that’s saying something. Pointing at Tucker, “for the love of all the Ancients, tell me you recorded that. Because, by the Realms, that was glorious”. He also totally wants to show Johnny, and Skulker actually, maybe Ember and Kitty; they’d be fucking impressed honestly. Possibly Pandora too, if only for Eddie just straight up going feral rage mode for a bit there.

Tucker nods eagerly with a wide smirk, instantly being granted a high five; even getting one from Sam.

As his mom calls that supper’s ready, Danny pulls out his phone; because he is not calling Lewis while he might be having special time with the bone saw.

DPain: so stormed Area 51 might being having a mild melt down bout being pregnant

DPain: and it might

DPain: possibly

DPain: maybe

DPain: be my fault

Tucker chokes next to him, “dude, you do realise how that sounds right?”. Making Danny facepalm as the four (not three like Maddie was expecting, but she just sets another plate with a smile and head shake) sit at the table; Danny checking his phone when it goes off.

Tiethief: so you’re why I have 11 new voicemails

DPain: 😇

Danny barely gets through his (very mushy, fuck you Jazz) mashed potatoes before there’s a knock on the door. It’s not a scent Danny recognises so he tears off Tucker’s hoodie to cover his tail up. Rolling his eyes at the guy’s scowl, Danny would just blink his tail out of the visible spectrum if his not-in-the-know parents weren’t around. While one of said parents, his mom who hadn’t even sat down yet, gets the door.

“Hello Mrs. Fenton, I’m officer Jared Walker”, the four teens -and Jazz- all choke at that last name and share ‘seriously? Why is this our lives?’ Looks. “I’m here to conduct a welfare check for Daniel Fenton. May I come in?”.

Danny cringes, this probably wasn’t a good thing. FentonWorks wasn’t exactly... safe. Oh who was he kidding? FentonWorks was a mind field of danger and death; and not just ‘cause his dead ass was here. And what if he wants to check out his room? Oh Ancients he absolutely is going to want to check that out. Fuck.

Sam and Tucker obviously have the same worries as they finish their plates and start to move towards the stairs; probably to make a mad dash to his room to make it not look like a probable biohazard.

While his mom obviously lets the guy in, would arguably be worse not to, “sure thing, Danny’s at the table having lunch, his doctor’s doing a final shift at the hospital right now though. You could come back later to talk to him? Or would you like me to call him?”.

Jared steps in and looks at the two teens starting to head up the stairs and then to Valerie, “I’m sure you’d like to hang out with your friend and make sure he’s well, but I’ll have to ask you to leave”, tilting his head not unkindly, “this is a family matter; you understand”.

The three teens obey, because this is a cop for fucks sake; and they like to at least pretend to be proper law-abiding citizens. Sam and Tucker shooting him apologetic looks and Valerie giving him a little forehead kiss as they leave. Danny makes a damn point to make sure his smile doesn’t look painfully nervous.

Jared looks back to Maddie, “that’s quite alright, I’m sure I could get into contact if I need to”. Jazz offers him tea which he declines, “do you think you could go to your room, Jasmine? I’d like to speak with your parents and brother alone if that’s alright?”.

She nods, ruffling Danny’s hair up as she stands, which he of course scowls at and swats her hand away. Even if that, like usual, only accomplishes making her grin at him. Jazz completely ignores Danny’s bedroom door, knowing Jared would likely notice if she tried to go in.

(Sam and Tucker outside both decide that trying to sneak into at least clean Danny’s room wasn’t the best idea. Seeing as they had Valerie as a tag along and there was another cop sitting out in the police cruiser on the curb. Plus, cleaning Danny’s room would take a goddamn while and would be, frankly, disgusting to do. So they just hope Danny’s got something up under his spooky sleeves)

Jared joins the Fenton parents in sitting at the table, sending a smile to Danny, “you doing well today?”.

Danny gives an awkward nod and knocks his hand brace against his chest brace, “I’ll be better once I’m rid of these stupid things”, making the officer chuckle.

“That’ll hopefully be sooner rather than later”, turning to the parents’, “I'm just here to see how things are going, what sort of accommodations have been made or are being made, the state of the house, how school work’s being handled, and to speak with Daniel privately. Standard procedure”.

Jack beams, ever eager to brag about inventions, “we had a hover cushion built for him before he got home! So he’d have a way to get around right off the bat!”.

Danny grumbles at the cop, “I don’t like being carried or pushed around”, which was something of an understatement; his ghostly pride could only take so much of that. And that ‘so much’ was very little, ah the joys of being powerful. Made being ‘weak’ all the more bloody fucking awful. Maddie adds in with a warm smile at Danny, “we did order a wheelchair though”.

Jared looks pleased at this and notes everything down, “hospital approved? And could I see this... hover cushion?”.

Jack jumps up and gives Danny a curious raised eyebrow, “bedroom, next to the door, dad”, Jack nods curtly and bounds up the steps.

Jared raises an eyebrow at Danny, “any particular reason it’s not down here with you?”.

Danny blinks, oh because he wanted to get around on his freaking tail and doesn’t need no damn help to get around. He can’t tell this random cop that though. The tail is abso-fucking-lutely staying a secret if he can help it, “uh, it’s pretty snug and Doc said I should let things breathe here and there”, that’s utter bullshit, but probably accurate for normal amputation wounds. Realising he should probably explain how the Zone he got downstairs without it, “and there’s a pretty big difference between friends and family carrying me and, uh-”, blushing a bit both genuinely and to sell the lie, “-the girlfriend carrying me”.

Jared grins to himself at that, “ah yes, that is pretty different. She handling this well?”.

Danny nods and smiles, she was handling it about as well as most people would; maybe a little better. Him seemingly giving very little of a damn about his ‘leglessness’ probably helped slightly. After all, she did decide to give the whole ‘them’ thing a shot again. Jack comes back with the hover-cushion before he can even attempt to tell the guy any of that.

Jack shows off the device and powers it up, show that it does, in fact, work. Jared blinks and grins, “I’ll admit, I’m impressed”, and makes some more notes in his book, “it alright if I take pictures? Purely for documentation purposes. And the wheelchair?”.

Maddie nods, giving him the go-ahead, while moving to grab up her copy of the documentation for the ridiculous wheelchair Danny ordered and handing that over. “It’s not hospital approved but Dan said it would be fine, he was here when we ordered it”.

Jared nods acceptingly -obviously aware of who Danny’s doctor was- and tilts his head a little, “expensive, you footing the cost if the hospital can’t cover it? This isn’t a standard type either, athletic wheelchair?”.

Danny nods and grins almost meanly, “have you seen Amity?”, should he be sassing a cop? No, probably not. Jared nods a little, while Maddie speaks up, “we can cover the whole bill if needed. So long as Danny’s happy”. Jared nods and smiles at that.

“Alright, I’d ask if there’s been modifications to the stairs but you’ve found a different suitable workaround. Same with if everything has been moved to be in reach”, nodding at his notebook before looking back to them, “so how about schooling?”.

Danny rubs his neck awkwardly, “I’m working on the catchup and homework, uh, keyword being ‘working’”. Jared chuckles at that, typical teen behaviour.

Maddie pats Danny’s head, “Jazz made sure to talk with all his teachers. She’s friends with most of them. Sam and Tucker brought his work home for him”.

Jared raises an eyebrow at that, “and what about you?”. Jack laughs a bit loudly before rubbing his neck, “ah, the school prefers we don’t come unless we have to. We tend to break things”.

Danny’s pretty sure that’s a mark against his parents’ in the cops' book. So he tries to save face a little, “ghost hunting is a pretty destructive job”, he would know. Jared seems to think on that for a beat before nodding.

From what Jared’s heard and seen, ghost hunters were effectively cops here but for ghosts; which were much more dangerous than the average human criminal. He’s not about to fault them for their career. Schools didn’t particularly like cops showing up either, makes people on edge usually. And considering the school turned out to actually be a hot spot for ghosts, ghost hunters showing up out of the blue would absolutely cause at least a little panic.

Jack laughs a bit more, “plus! Frees us up to work more on the CyberSteps!”. Jared quirks an eyebrow at that so Maddie elaborates, “robotic prosthetic legs. Dan’s been helping as well”. Jack grins wide, “yup! Got to make sure they’re perfect!”.

Jared blinks, “you are... making your own prosthetics?”. Danny immediately blurts out, “walked on a prototype already. Not, um, quite good yet”, adding because holy shit he knows this is probably all kinds of illegal, Lewis kinda said so, “doc was there”. He’s going to get Lewis in trouble at this rate. He should probably shut up. Shutting up wasn’t one of his notable skills though.

Jared nods, “so you were... under certified medical care?”. Danny just nods, his folks nodding too. Jared notes that down as well.

Jared is pretty sure there isn’t much to worry about at this point. Bad or abusive parents wouldn’t go to the lengths of creating break through technology. And they were obviously putting the boy first, making him comfortable and happy. But that still didn’t explain certain things and that didn’t mean the house was suitable. From what he’s seen so far the house was... acceptable. Little messy and... odd. There were certainly some strange stains, burns, damages, and technological bits lying around. Certainly unacceptable for a small child, but Daniel was a teen.

Nodding to himself, “I think that covers that. I’d like to look around now”, with that the Fenton parents’ get up. Jared watches the teen easily manoeuvre into the hover cushion contraption, does a little spin in the air, and sends him an awkward smile. Daniel then squints at him and tilts his head, “Jared Walker... as in J. Walker, like jaywalker”, and starts snickering.

Jared rolls his eyes with a smile, “laugh it up kid”, that just makes the teen smirk.

Most of the first floor is marginally normal, acceptable, when Jack very enthusiastically points out the weapons vault though, “is this secure? And this is just for anti-ghost weapons correct?”.

Maddie nods immediately, she could see how a cop might have a few issues with this, “designed to be secure, from both humans and ghosts. Ecto-Fiber glass and sheets block them from getting in intangibly”. Danny mentally grumbles, because he had found that out the hard way and it had been inconvenient on more than one occasion. Jared just nods as they head down to the lab.

Jared glances around before raising a slightly disbelieving eyebrow at the parents’, the amount of hazards here were, honestly, uncountable. Bits of metal (some being very sharp), wiring, chemicals, samples, weapons, glowing... stuff, and the leg creation things.

Jack laughs, “yeah, it can be a bit of a mess! The kiddos are well versed in lab safety though!”. Danny resists pointing out that he usually cleaned the place. That probably wouldn’t win any brownie points.

Jared blinks and gives a rather disbelievingly, “uh-huh”, before responding in genuine, “is this the normal condition of things? And what about supervision while anyone’s down here? It is more than likely Daniel here will be a bit clumsy for a while”, this was unsafe in so many ways.

Maddie ruffles Danny’s hair as he grumbles incoherently and blushes, “Danny’s rather clumsy normally”.

Danny adding, “school still won’t let me handle fragiles”, even though he was much better, fuck you very much. Jared looks just a little unimpressed, he was probably trying to not show the fact that he was not impressed. Which Danny thinks is fair.

Maddie continues, “but yes this is how things usually are. This is the one place where we have a camera system, so it’s pretty secure and we can see if anything’s going on whether we’re home or not. We didn’t allow the kids down here when they were young, and they had to have one of us with them until they could show they knew what they were doing”. Jack butting eagerly, “a family of inventors invent together!”, shrugging, “or at least are all involved in the process”.

Danny looks around awkwardly, well aware that he at least partly died because of crappy lab safety on everyone's part. Jared notes somethings and glances at Danny but says nothing.

What then follows is Jared basically getting the lab tour, asking about nearly everything and taking notes. Eventually coming to the portal, always the last thing his folks showed off since it was their pride and joy, “and this?”.

Danny gives the blunt answer of, “ghost portal”, because screw him, screwing with people was fun. Jared gives him a Look, which Danny can’t help smirking at, before looking to his parents and raising an eyebrow.

Jack laughs and smacks the frame, “yup! This baby opens up right into the spookies backyard!”. Maddie grins and adds, “we use it mostly for research purposes, to return captured ghosts, and as a warning system in case of invasions”, then speaking a bit sternly, “going inside it is strictly forbidden and it has a genetic lock”. Danny tries to make it look like he wasn’t paying attention, seeing as he went through those doors almost more often than his front doors.

Jared still looks rather disbelieving, “you have a portal to another dimension in your basement?”, shaking his head a little, “I mean, I’m glad it has a strong lock. Do ghosts ever come through?”.

Maddie shakes her head a little, “we have used things to pull ghosts through intentionally. Research you know. But as for them coming through on their own? No”. Danny has to bite his tongue to avoid snorting at that, his folks were insanely oblivious. The portal was literally the main entryway into his home. He’s pretty sure the only ones who don’t almost always use it are Skulker and the Box Ghost. Well, and most animal ghosts.

Jared takes that answer for what it is and wonders how the Hell you're supposed to rate ‘has a portal to the dimension of the dead under his bedroom’ on literally any safety scale. He’d say this is something that should be in a government facility but the G.I.W. approval rate was abysmal. And with good reason based on basic research. But side-eyeing the teen, he seemed to give the portal a look of fondness actually... and annoyance; but fond annoyance. So he does make a point to mark down that the kid seemed to like the thing, for whatever forsaken reason.

Jared taps his pen on his notebook, “alright, is there any other rooms other than bedrooms?”.

Danny does the dumb thing and blurts out, “well, there’s the torture dungeon”, making the guy give a very satisfactory choke.

Maddie shakes her head at Danny fondly before looking to the officer, “something’s down there are on the medieval side”. Jack just chuckles, “the stockades are more for storage and old school equipment”.

Danny mumbling, “you mean like the Iron Maiden and other instruments of extreme pain and suffering?”, which Jared thankfully doesn’t hear.

Maddie smiles, “our family have been hunters for generations, so we’ve inherited older tools of the trade”, shrugging, “some that work, some that definitely don't. Family heirlooms really”. Jared nods at that, anything medieval could come off as ‘torture devices’ and he’s starting to get the feeling this teen has a serious sense of humour and likes startling people. Arguably this seemed on par with people keeping their ancestors' old weapons. Meant for ghosts or not.

“Alright, so just the bedroom now. Don’t worry, I only need to see his”, and smiles, totally missing Danny muttering, “and that’s not a good thing”. Jared continuing, “just one more question, regarding the family profession actually. Does Daniel hunt as well? With you? If not, are you training him to? If so, how are you taking into account his disability and healing?”.

Jack scratches his head, “eh, Danny-boy’s not particularly interested in ghost hunting. He is pretty good with tech though! Like every Fenton!”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “so no, they aren’t having me running, or floating, around with guns, shooting sentient beings for sport or science”, and he’s not going to mention his dad sorta trying to get him into weaponised prosthetics. Danny’s pretty sure effectively -literally really- attaching guns and knives and stuff to your kids robo-legs would be a big no-no. Especially to an out-of-town cop.

Maddie smiles and pats his head, “and if he wants combat training, survival training, or anything else of the kind, he can simply ask. I’m trained in a lot of different areas”.

Jared nods at that, “everyone could benefit from that. Good that you’re not forcing it though”, scribbling down a bit more before closing the notebook and tucking it away, “alright, I think I’ve got a good picture of how things are”, sending the parents a slight smile before looking to Danny, “now you feel up to giving this old man the bedroom tour? I’m certain you, like most teens, know it better than your parents do”. Jared absolutely mentally notes that while everyone laughs at that, Danny’s laugh is a little awkward and nervous; he probably had somethings in there he’d rather his parents not know about. He can’t help smirking slightly at that, ah teens. Danny just glares and gestures towards the steps, everyone heading up.

Jared nods at the parents’ as they sit at the table while he heads up to the bedrooms after Danny.

Maddie sitting down with a sigh. Jack speaking up after the two are out of sight, “think he’ll be okay?”. Maddie rubs her eyes, she’s pretty sure them not getting a call about the visit meant there was something else going on, “I don’t know Jack, I’m just a bit worried what Danny’ll say, what he’ll be asked”, looking to her husband, “our house and family isn’t exactly normal or particularly safe, Jack”, biting her lip slightly, “many people might think any child, especially a... disabled one, would be better off somewhere else”. Because at the end of the day, Danny was disabled now, CyberSteps or not. And he had been through what was arguably a traumatic event, he seemed fine but still; she’s sure Jazz was keeping a very close eye on him for that very reason. Most people would want a disabled possibly traumatised injured kid in a safe, sturdy, structured, adaptable, loving home and family. Her family had the last two in spades, but the rest? She be kidding herself if she even tried to think their household was ‘safe’ or ‘structured’. She forgot to get him supper till one a.m. for peat's sake! Not to mention actively and repeatedly testing out prototypes on him. Sure there wasn’t another option but still. Even ignoring that, things in the house often reacted to him; usually seemed harmless but not always.

But at the same time, what family or house could even understand or attempt to support someone like Danny? With his ectoplasm, ghostly tail, and Core? She’s pretty sure Dan was an extreme outlier in being totally unphased by those things, especially being from out of town. And like Dan, her and Jack were doctors. Sure it was in a different way and different fields, but they were effectively Danny’s doctors for his more... ghostly things. If anything Danny needed to be here, with his family, more than most teens needed to be with theirs.

Jack moves to rub her shoulders, “he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid, Mads. And I’m sure the officer will see that -while weird and unconventional- he’s good here”.

Meanwhile upstairs Danny is hovering over his bed looking more than a little awkward and Jared is glancing around the room in shock. Jared blinks and scrunches up his nose, “kid, this smells worse than the morgue when the ac breaks”, lifting up his foot and putting it back down cautiously, making a faint squelching sound, “you know I’m gonna need an explanation for this”. There’s no pussyfooting around this, this is worse than literally every crime scene he’s ever been to. And he’s based from New York, so that should be saying something.

Danny chuckles and it’s extremely awkward, “yeah, uh, this probably ain’t gonna win me any points, but I like to joke that my room could make a crime scene investigator cry and the cleanup crew quit outright”, shrugging, “I have been meaning to clean, but uh, it doesn’t really bother me”.

“Kid, that ain’t normal. And that also doesn’t answer how this happened”. Jared is seriously hoping he isn’t dealing with some killer kid situation. Those were awful.

Danny rubs his neck, not entirely sure there’s any way out of this, he pretty actively screwed himself here, “uh, besides me not being very clean being a factor, you’re probably standing in a cesspool of pop, coffee, energy drinks, some cleaning solution stuff from when I actually mildly attempted to clean and just dumped it on the floor and shoved it around with my foot, probably some decomposed food, ectoplasm, and yeah, uh, blood”, then wincing slightly, because yeah, not impressing mr. Cop.

Jared glances to the floor, blinks, and looks back to the teen. Teens were lazy sure, but this was something else. This was beyond unsanitary, this was a downright biohazard and completely unliveable. And he might know the what, but the why? Heck, even the how. For the carpet alone to be this soaked, “whose blood. And the ectoplasm? Kid, for your floor to be this soaked you’d have to have dumped literal bucket loads of liquids on it. Bucket loads”. And watches the teen actively wince, obviously aware of this fact.

Danny looks around, actively avoiding eye contact, “I mean, you’re not wrong. My room’s kinda the ‘hang out’ spot, I guess, for me and my friends. So it’s not strictly my mess”, shrugging, “Tuck’s probably left a fair amount of meat scraps around and I’m pretty sure Sam’s trying to grow a rare fungus in one corner”. Valerie’s probably left a gun or two around too, but he’s not going to mention that.

“Kid, you have got to be kidding me. I know Amity is strange, but this is a little beyond”.

Danny shrugs again, looking back to the guy, “sorry pal, I’m probably certifiably the strangest kid in the entire town. Me and my friends are literally known as the weirdo trio. Sometimes the defect quartet when Val’s with us”, smirking a little to himself and knowing Sam will love him for this, “we are the weirdos mister”, and grinning cheekily.

Jared blinks very slowly, this teen just quoted a movie at him in response to him pointing out this was insane and that this floor was a biohazard. He blinks again and elects to just... ignore that, “still waiting on that ‘why’ for the... floor”.

Danny chuckles a bit meanly at the freaked cop before shaking his head a bit aggressively and looking around awkwardly, “ah, uh, it’s mostly, ah, mine? Which yeah I know is probably, like, super concerning. But it’s fine”, no point even trying to lie here, because a bloody fucking cop absolutely could just sample his floor and test it for, well, everything. And if he could avoid Tucker having to hack the fucking cops any more than he already did, by being just slightly honest. Then that’s what he’s gonna do.

Jared blinks again, arms slack at his side, before walking over and sitting down next to the teen on the bed. Daniel following suit by letting the hover thing float down to ‘sit’ him on the bed; this kid could read people at least a little, “buckets of blood is not ‘fine’, Daniel. And the ectoplasm?”, readjusting slightly, “honesty for honesty?”, something tells him this particular teen was well versed in dishonesty, “the main reason I was sent here is because of some things the first responders and nurses noticed. Namely, that you have a lot of... scarring. Unusual scarring. Does that have anything to do with the state of your floor?”, he’s making a point to try and be gentle here. This officially looked less ‘killer kid’ more ‘battered kid’.

Danny resists muttering ‘ah fuck, Ancients goddamnit’ out loud; talk about suspicious. He knew one day his scars were going to come and bite him in the ass. What is he supposed to say here? Obviously not the truth. Just ‘oh hey random cop dude, I fight ghosts totally not on the down-low but also technically on the down-low because it’s, like, a super-secret. Y’ know, like most superheroes. And ghosts are, like, totally really into maiming me. Also I’m kinda sorta a little bit kinda dead. So there’s that. My parents and girlfriend also shoot me sometimes, but you totally won’t report that to CPS, right?’. Alright, activate secret protection tactic three; sass and annoy ‘till they leave you the Zone alone. Ancients give him strength, “well first, I really do prefer Danny. I’m totally fine, cool as a cucumber or whatever. And welcome to Amity pal, people get hurt here a bloody lot. Couple abductions here and there, the occasional light stabbing; y’ know the usual. I get that you’re from outta town but that near non-existent crime rate means nothing”, shrugging and leaning back on his elbows, “and yeah the ecto’s mine too, so what I’m a little spooky? Not everyone’s full-blooded legged humans you know”.

Jared practically flinches back from the sudden change in behaviour. So that’s a check on him being defensive of his scarring. But there was no mention of his parents anywhere there, not to defend them or even to try and claim it wasn’t their fault. So, it’s probable his parents aren’t at fault here. Obviously something was going on, had to be for him to have more scarring than war vets. ‘Nearly more scars than flesh’ they had said. Though oddly his doctor had said nothing on the matter, even said the kid was fine; and he definitely did not report the state of the kids bedroom, which definitely deserved reporting. Furrowing his eyebrows at the kid, who doesn’t drop the ‘insufferable teen who just wants to be left alone and thinks you can shove it’ act for the previous nervous cautious behaviour. The doctor probably knew whatever was going on, or was very corrupt and seriously didn’t give a damn, “does your doctor know the reason behind the scarring?”, thinking on what Danny said, “and you have ectoplasm?”, that... that was a new one.

Danny huffs and rolls his eyes, his ecto-contamination was at least somewhat public knowledge in Amity. Dude would hear about it sooner or later, “yeah? So what?”, scowling a little at the cop, “don’t be givin’ doc shit, he’s cool. Knows when shit doesn’t need no reporting, shouldn’t be reported or recorded. I’m fine. My ‘situation’ or whatever, is fine. Perfectly peachy. Just stellar. We done here?”. Danny is probably not earning any good karma points here.

Jared blinks, okay, protecting his doctor was definitely not typical abuse victim behaviour. So definitely not the parents’ fault then. He seemed to be blaming Amity itself or the ghost issue instead. Which yes, this town was insanely dangerous and a lot of people -kids included- had scarring; but not to that degree. Maybe he got targeted more because of being related to hunters? Mentally pausing, or maybe he was a hunter and his parents -for some asinine reason- didn’t know? But then again, he said he wasn’t ‘shooting sentient beings for sport’ so maybe there was a conflict in ideals? Maybe he disagreed with his parents so he didn’t want them involved or putting in their two cents? That was fairly common in the force and other departments. But he was also implying that reporting this in any way -not just to his parents- was bad. So maybe something else was going on, or was he referring to having ectoplasm in his body. There were too many variables here, “that depends. Are you in any danger? You need to give me something here kid, Danny. ‘Cause right now your ‘situation’ seems decidedly not fine. Especially since you clearly get hurt a lot yet have an almost impressively sparse medical file”.

Danny huffs some more and rolls his eyes, okay, this wasn’t exactly... working, “I'm fine. I’m just a little ecto and Amity’s just a little dangerous”, sighing, “so no, I’m not in danger. In the past or now”. ‘But I fucking will be if you chase my shit’ being left unsaid.

“And in the future?”.

Danny levels the guy with a serious steely expression and puts just a tiny hint of power into his voice, tail coiling around invisibly, “I will be if you don’t butt out”, maybe warning the dude will get him to fuck off with this?

Jared blinks and nods, not entirely feeling like he’s actually talking to a minor here; which said a lot, “from?”.

Danny scowls, “not my family. Or friends. Or the doc. Or ghosts, for that matter”, Ancients dude, would you just drop it already?

“That doesn’t leave a lot of possibilities”.

Making Danny glare, “not your business”. Jared sighs and shakes his head a little, “it rather is. It’s my call what happens here, doctor turning the cheek or not”.

Danny scowls at him again, growling slightly because he is honestly getting frustrated here, “a little bit ecto, in the eyes of the government, equals a lot bit not deserving of human rights. And thus a very nice easily findable Christmas wrapped subject for some really nasty things I’d rather not experience”.

Jared blinks a few times, that was... not what he was expecting. But that would explain not wanting things reported, never going to hospitals, not wanting people to look into things, the doctor getting him out of the hospital abnormally quick and coming along, etcetera. Thinking of that, didn’t one of the secretary’s mention government agents showing up? Alright, so this kid was being testy for good reasons. Being defensive to literally defend himself... from his own government. Alright, the best thing he can do for the kid was to do nothing. To fudge his notes and report. Leave in the general weirdness but nothing that would encourage further investigating. This situation was officially way beyond his pay grade. Still though, his priority here was the kid's safety and welfare; not whether or not the government? knew he was ‘a little bit ecto’? “Alright then. Legally I should absolutely report this-”. He doesn’t even get to finish as Danny cuts in with an actual snarl, “and doc shoulda absolutely dragged me back to the hospital, your fucking point?”.

“Jesus kid, I’m trying to extend an olive branch here”, Jared shakes his head when all the teen does is huff, “I’m not saying I’m going to. The governments slightly dangerous opinions and interests in ghost stuff ain’t in my salary”.

Danny tilts his head and watches the guy for a beat, he seemed honest enough, “so you’re not going to mention my ecto-contamination, questionably bio-hazardous room, battered body, or being overly self-sufficient?”. Talk about dodging one Hell of fucking bullet. Holy Shit.

Jared blinks, okay this kid knew exactly what was up with his stuff. “I should, but I think I’m going to opt-out of doing that. Seems like that would do more harm than good”, leaning forwards a bit, “but when you say self-sufficient...”.

Danny rolls his eyes but relaxes some and lays back on his bed, he’s keeping his damn tail invisible and whatnot though, “put it this way man, Lewis thinks I’m a better surgeon than his lackies and I make a mean lasagna that doesn’t randomly gain sentience and try to stab people with knives”.

“Alright, I shouldn’t have asked”, his scars were self-treated, that... that is entirely unacceptable. And he’s just not going to ask about the Fenton parents’ apparently questionable cooking skills. Danny just snorts. So Jared speaks back up, “I take it ecto-contamination is the proper term for being ‘a little ecto’? And that it’s different from the general kind that -according to multiple sources- basically everyone in this town has? Even though your parents failed to mention it. I imagine this probably affects health and care”. ‘Contamination’ pretty firmly implied it being a health thing.

Danny sighs, “‘cause I got it from blatantly and aggressively ignoring nearly all forms of lab safety. Which would probably be a mark against them in your little book. But yeah fine, my ecto is little more unique. Common knowledge, though not really your business”.

“Again, it rather is. But I guess that’s understandable. Does it affect your health and care though? I would prefer to attempt to be thorough”. He’s glad he’s not wearing a wire or body-cam.

Danny looks him over and nods a little, yeah dude could probably get fired for not reporting all this crap. Would kinda make him a dick for no real reason to not answer that, “fair enough. It does, but my folks are pretty aware though. And they’re basically the leading ectologists. If they don’t know how to handle me, then no one does”, no one entirely human anyway.

Jared nods, enough information to be an answer, vague enough to tell him practically nothing. Kid’s smart. Grunting, “good enough”, squinting, “wait, would another family even be able to look after you effectively?”.

Danny snorts and actually laughs, “are you kidding? No, of course not”, as much as his parents being his parents resulted in ghostly injuries and being actively hunted and endless amounts of paranoia; it also saved his half-ghostly ass left right and centre. This legless/leg optional situation would be a bajillion times worse if he didn’t have parents that could build legs and get them to work with his spooky ass.

Jared shakes his head disbelievingly, so it didn’t even matter how he was being treated/looked after; he literally couldn’t get suitable treatment anywhere else but here. No wonder the doctor wanted him home, on top of the government trying to do who knows what. The doctor was actually looking out for his patients' best interests. “Well then I guess it’s best you’re home then. On that note, how are you coming along treatment wise? Healing well? And the prosthetics?”.

Danny snorts, “back to normal people questions huh?”, pushing himself up onto his elbows again, “my healings fine. Doctor approved. CyberSteps are getting there. My ecto’s ‘causing issues but also only reason they’ll feasibly work”, looking the cop over and tilting his head, “you're asking me shit, so I’mma ask you shit. You got any dead relatives who were really into white and a real stickler for rules. Maybe was a prison warden or sherif in the nineteen hundreds? Or maybe a mafia member that went to jail? Has a thing for black fedoras?”, he has to ask, ‘cause it would be just his luck to get stuck with a relative of Walker’s. Not to mention a relative of Walker’s that isn’t a dick and doesn’t utterly despise him. Yet at least.

Jared raises both eyebrows a bit disbelievingly, “Cordell Walker was a mafia member that worked up to being a prison warden after serving time there, nineteen hundreds yeah. How did you know that?”. Jared is insanely confused and a bit freaked out. Shaking his head, “that’s... good that the prosthetics might actually work”.

Danny glares at him and mutters, “Ancients seriously? Why me”, tilting his head and laughing, “wait so he actually was a criminal?”, then starts laughing at Jared’s confused nod, “oh my Zone! HAHAHAHA oh man! I am so bugging him about that. Oh he’s not living that down!”, pausing to snort before adding, “literally not living that down”, and flops to lay down on the bed, laughing more. Waving his hand at the confused cop, “don’t worry about it. It’s just- wow haha. It’s just that your great-grandpa, or whatever, locked me in jail a couple times”, continuing at Jared raising his eyebrows almost comically, “he’s the warden of a ghost prison just inside the portal. So, uh, congrats I know your family. He kinda hates me though so. And he’s kinda a dick, no offence”.

Jared blinks, “I... don’t think I have a response for that and I’m pretty sure this almost qualifies as a conflict of interest”. There isn’t any kind of training for ‘subject knows your dead relative and was apparently arrested by them once’. Swallowing, “what did he... arrest you for?”.

Danny blinks and laughs awkwardly, “uh, first time was driving illegally pretty much. Second, possession of illegal... things. And after that there’s been a lot of other things. Something like ten jail breaks slash destruction of prisons. Probably gives me another assaulting an officer and resisting arrest charge every time he sees me. Honestly man? He’d arrest me just for existing”, tilting his head, “I think he actually has arrested me for that”, chuckling, “like I said, he hates me and he’s a dick. Pretty sure he’s got a cattle prod with my name on it, literally. One of my scars is from him attempting to brand me”.

Jared blinks really harshly at that, he had heard Cordell was a sadist but Christ, “Jesus, that is insane in all honesty. I had heard some... less than pleasant horror stories about him but that seems a bit... much. He was the first cop in the family though, and many of us did brag about having mafia roots as kids”, shaking his head, “I certainly still do”. And this teen apparently destroyed prisons, what is up with this kids life?

Danny snorts, “I would too”, ‘cause come on, having roots to the mafia is just plain cool. Shrugging, “I could give you a really wild story to take back and uh, set up a meeting or something? Y’ know, in return for not possibly getting me tortured and killed? Or having to hack your police system stuff?”.

“Are you... bribing an officer?”, Jared is out of his depth with this kid, and he is absolutely positive he has a very mischievous side and very little regard for the legality of things.

Danny snorts, “not even close to the most illegal thing I’ve done. And might please Walker- uh, ghost Walker, some”, shrugging, “technically I’m bribing two officers”, and smirks devilishly.

Jared is pretty sure he shouldn’t be encouraging this, but this was... an opportunity that really was otherwise impossible. Meeting long-dead family that were something of a legend was quite the offer, “you are a rather sneaky teen, aren’t you? I can’t say I’m going to turn that down. But are you really well enough to do something like that?”.

Danny snorts and mutters, “if I’m well enough to get punched in the face, then I think the fuck so”. Jared pretends he didn’t hear that, he’s decided he really just doesn’t want to know. Danny looks to him, “eh, it’ll be fine. Just maybe don’t call him Cordell, dead-naming a ghost is a good way to get stabbed or shot or maimed or a lot of other painful things. He just goes by Walker now”.

Jared nods dutifully, yup he’s officially ‘compromised’ and no longer unbiased with this case. Best he keeps that to himself though, kid’s probably banking on this being a way to ensure he keeps his mouth shut. This kid was bolder than he seems, definitely not as ‘in the background’ or nervous as he acted at first. That was probably just a tactic to avoid people looking into his shit.

Danny smirks, “cool, I’ll coax him into the mortal realm at some point. Gives me an excuse to annoy the heck out of him”.

“You’re more of a trouble maker than I pegged you for. Please avoid breaking the law to do that”.

Danny blinks, “uh, no?”, activating the hover cushion and hovering around his room to adjust somethings, “so, any more questions that are ultimately pointless?”.

Jared quirks an eyebrow, “honestly? No. Since you’re right, there isn’t any point. But I really should ask what kind of punishments you get?”, he’ll get more than just looked at funny if he doesn’t ask the most basic child abuse question out there.

Danny shrugs, “a stern talking to? Maybe them having a meeting with a teacher and scaring them? Another parent/son bonding thing that turns into getting almost eaten by swamp monsters or getting abducted by the mayor and hunted for sport by his personal ghost science experiments? Getting shown more videos about how not doing my chores will blow the house up and kill everyone?”.

Jared glares at the kid who smirks, “do you just want me to have to scrap everything?”, grumbling to himself and jotting down in his little book, “I’ll just write down the first two”, before looking back to the kid, “what are your chores anyway?”.

Danny smirks, no point lying now might as well go all in, “cleaning the lab. Yup, the ecto-contaminated kid that reacts to hunter tech and ecto is the one who cleans the place filled with those things”, why his parents had him clean the lab was beyond him, not that he minded. Was a good excuse to snoop new inventions or drop off a ghost or two in the portal. Speaking of that, what the heck’s he gonna do with Skulker? If he releases the dude he’ll probably chase down the doc. Eh he’ll warn the guy to keep a bone saw on hand or something. Chuckling at the cop, “also vacuum the walls sometimes”.

Jared blinks, “neither... neither of those are normal. You have got to be kidding me. Why?”.

Danny shrugs, “no idea man. Though now I don’t have any chores, well except the chore of healing”, and floats over to the door, gesturing to it, “so we done? Cool to leave the crime scene?”.

Jared stands and lifts his phone, “I actually need to take some photos of your room, so maybe try to make a section not completely nightmarish?”.

What then proceeds is the two moving around a few things and Danny dumping a pile of cloths over a particularly unpleasant looking square of carpet, so Jared can get his photo. He also takes photos of the star-covered ceiling, hand-built rocket models, and his computer video-game set-up. Noting the space flight simulators, “you a fan of space? I have a cousin who’s an astronaut you know”. Danny zips right over into his face, causing him to fall on his ass, Danny stays in his face and follows him though, “what! Oh my Zone! What missions have they been on?!? Wait, have they been on any?!? Did they get to go to any planets?!? Or a satellite?!? What was the recovery like?!? Oh! Oh! What’s wearing an actual spacesuit like?!?...”.

Alright, Jared thinks, this kid was a little freaky and was officially seriously freaking him out. Interrupting Danny’s word vomit, “uh... I don’t know? I think ‘like’ might have been an understatement, you’re a bit... obsessive”.

Danny huffs and glares at the guy, how, no seriously how could he not know? Not ask? “You disappoint me, and shut it. Side-effect of the ecto”, practically hissing, “and I’m interested, not obsessive”. He knows a little echoey ghostliness came out there ‘cause space is not his Obsession.

Jared nods slowly and blinks at the wide-eyed teen that he’s pretty sure hasn’t blinked in a while, “uh sure thing. Could I... maybe get off the floor?”, which now that he’s not focused on the kid going a bit crazy, he’s noticed said floor is a bit more than foul-smelling.

Danny stares a little more and realises he’s effectively pinning the guy without actually touching him, backing off but grumbling, “deserved it, family goes to space maybe and you don’t know shit about it? Ridiculous. At least Lewis would ask”, Lewis was a curious dude, Vee just didn’t know shit.

Jared gets up slowly and makes a point to get out of the kids bedroom, the kid shooting him glares like he’s committed a crime the entire time.

Jasmine sticks her head out of her bedroom too, “everything alright and good now?”, looking from the slightly freaked cop to her slightly wide-eye brother who’s grumbling incoherently, “Danny stop frightening the guests”. Danny grumbles incoherently a bit more but in ghost just to be creepy because let it be known, he was a dumbass.

Jared studiously ignores the... sounds? the kid is making and lifts up the notebook, “we’re good here. My partner’s waiting so I should get going”. Jared heads down the steps, spotting the sister putting her hands on her hips and looking unimpressed at Danny, “what is wrong with you Danny? Are you trying to make him suspicious?”.

“His cousin is an astronaut and he knows nothing, fucking nothing, about that?...”, and looks to start wide-eyed ranting, which Jasmine looks fond? over. This family was... weird.

Nodding his head at the parents, who smile and look relieved. Telling him they were rather... aware, things weren’t really acceptable here. And here he was not reporting that because of a bribe of all things, and honestly? after that performance, he’d rather not see what that kid’s like mad. That’s not mentioning how awkward working with the Fenton’s would be if he did report this. Again, they were basically cops here; their own ecto-department, alongside the Red Huntress.

Maddie jumps up to get the door while Danny and Jazz come down the stairs to see him off, only for Danny’s ghost sense to go off and a (very manly) scream sounding from outside. Everyone rushing to the door to see Ember literally standing on the cop car hood, her stomping on the windshield with one boot and telling the ‘piggy to lick her boots’ and moving to strum her guitar.

Danny’s folks of course run out guns blazing, while he silently slips into the background to transform; and Jared rushes over to his partner, grumbling about Chester being more of a greenhorn than him. Chester, meanwhile, is wide-eyed, back stiff, and clutching his chair seat for dear life.

Danny Phantom flies out -with his ghostly legs being, in fact, legs- to the sight of the cops trying to peel out of here while shooting their standard issue ecto-pistols at the ghost. His parents chasing said ghost, who’s of course mocking them and sticking out her tongue.

Ember shouting, “babypop!”, as soon as she sees Danny and floating straight at him. So he does the smart thing and leads her on a little goose chase. Which, in typical fashion, results in him getting a guitar powered fist-shaped sound wave punch straight into the side of a building.

She shouts at him, “my babypops been missing a while Phantom, know anything ‘bout that?!”. Danny snickers, “you know, you calling us both babypop raises some serious questions”.

“Oh can it”.

Making Danny laugh and shakes his thermos a little, “already canned the tin can. Care to join? Not sure how much makeout room there is though”. Which promptly gets him slammed into the road, “keep this up and I’ll put a cement lock on the thermos!”.

She rolls her eyes and readies her guitar again, “that won’t work, we can phase through cement, dipstick”.

Danny pauses and holds up a finger, “actually, my folks are making a mass-producible ecto-cement”, shrugging, “which I’m sabotaging because oof, imagine slamming into a ghost proof wall mid-battle?”.

Ember chuckles, “yeah, would really ruin the vibes. Speaking of vibes, try these sound waves out”, and turns the nob to something Danny’s pretty sure is new. Great. Watching, and failing to dodge, a pink line of sound slice through the air... and his shoulder.

Danny watches the arm go flying into someone’s garden, “wow, some really cutting edge beats you’ve got there”, and promptly dodges another pink line.

The fight again pausing when the dude who owns the garden throws Danny’s arm back at him, which he just lets it bounce off the side of his head, “way to get dismembered asshole!”.

Danny holds up a finger to Ember, “one second”, looking to the guy as Ember crosses her arms. Danny snatching his arm out of the air and tucking it under his armpit, “okay first off, dismemberment requires multiple limb removal; I only lost one. Two, I’ll admit my arm wouldn’t make very good fertiliser, but was that really necessary? And three-”, smirking, “-thanks for the hand. I’ll make sure to put my act together. Got to stay handsome after all”. Turning to Ember and speaking quiet enough the scowling guy won’t hear; though Ember shooting him a few miles away into a tree helps, “got a girl to impress, ya know. I like to think she prefers the whole over bits and bites”.

That gets Ember to pause and actually smile, if this were a video game a little ‘!’ would have likely appeared over her head, “oh! You’re dating again? The goth? I’d ask if it was the techy but you said girl”.

Danny throws his hand out to the side, “why do you all always think I’m dating them?!?”.

Ember snorts, rolls her eyes, and puts a hand on her hip, “your two humans are attached at the hip to you. How are you not dating them?”.

Danny pinches the bridge of his nose, “we’re close so what? I’m a protective asshole who likes to keep what’s mine close. Fuck off. I’m dating Red for your information”.

Ember giggles and shakes her head, “silly boy, and nice to see your death wish is still intact”, readying her guitar to restart their battle, “she know you’re one of us yet?”.

Danny chuckles as he stretches out his torso to avoid another fist blast, “naw, that info’s still ghosting her”, earning both another head shake and a pink slicing blast from the ghost.

Meanwhile, Lewis is just now taking his last shift break. Flipping through the Amity news because again, being prepared is nice and Danny’s a verifiable walking time bomb for physical injuries. And surprise surprise Phantom him is currently practically eating a tree with his face fighting some rocker chic. Eddie would probably ask her for a night of fun or something; though she might might be a minor. Maybe? It’s hard to tell. Well whatever, she’s currently smacking Danny over the head with her guitar. Squinting at the screen before sighing, the kid’s arm is definitely not attached to him. So check his arm brace, check his stitch work, make sure his bones are aligned right. Watching him get hit over the head again, maybe he should ask if Danny even can get concussions; he hopes not.

Quirking an eyebrow at his phone ringing, pausing the video, “hello?”.

“Dr. Dan Lewis? This is Jared Walker from the Amity police department”.

Lewis sighs, why does he feel like Danny’s at fault for this, “yes?”. Just the same as Eddie is literally always at fault whenever the San Francisco police call.

“I just finished up with a welfare check on Daniel Fenton, and just wanted to confirm that he’s indeed medically alright and that someone other than the Fenton parents’ are keeping an eye on the kid”.

Lewis grimaces, oh no way that went well, “he’s better than anyone else would be, so he’s quite fine; no need to worry. After this shift I’ll be taking something of a leave to stay at the Fenton household, I do intend to keep a rather close eye on him. That is my job after all. Do you need anything from me for your report?”. Danny must have done something to keep this guy from just outright reporting that the house was ridiculously unsafe.

“No, that’s alright. I think I’d rather not know whatever it is you do know”, alright so Danny definitely did something, something a ‘normal’ person wouldn’t really approve of, “so long as there’s someone more... responsible, watching him I’m not going to concern myself. Try to get him to clean his room, I doubt this’ll be the last time someone raises the alarm about that kid. I doubt ‘I know your dead grandparent’ is something he can pull again. And most less seasoned cops would not have reacted well to nearly being assaulted”.

Lewis sighs, Danny seriously can not keep his nose out of trouble. Though assaulting a cop is something he’d expect from Eddie not Danny. Though in Eddie’s case, the cop wouldn’t be alive to talk about it. “I’ve told him as much. I do hope my patient wasn’t too much of a hassle, he can definitely be a bit odd. Though that’s hardly unusual for the family”.

“Oh I’m aware. That kid is a bit more.... startling though. I don’t envy you. Thanks for taking my call, I imagine you’re a busy man”.

Lewis chuckles, “he hasn’t tried to kill or eat me yet, so he’s a fairly enjoyable patient. Very interesting. Have a good day”.

“Yeah...”, Lewis is pretty sure he hears the guy mutter, “what is up with people today? Everyone’s a goddamn nutcase”, before hanging up. Lewis barely gets the time to chuckle down at his phone before it pings from that private server Phantom chat.

DPain: so

DPain: that spooky from fore might

DPain: might

DPain: be lowkey coming for you for my scrappy bits

DPain: also

DPain: mighto scared a cop

NightShade: made pig squeal

Tiethief: so he told me

Tiethief: should I just give the spooky what he wants?

DPain: put it in a present, throw it at his face screaming bomb!

PDAxpda: not like you need it

NightShade: n tinman might actually stab you or something if you don’t

Tiethief: that is a rather convincing argument

Lewis tosses his phone into the tray, hopefully this ghost doesn’t show up mid-surgery.

And he showed mid-surgery. Very mid-surgery. As in, hands in someone’s intestines kind of mid-surgery with a number eleven scalpel. All his underlings just hug the walls, or slowly move out of the room, effectively leaving him holding a guy together by himself at the table. Cowards. Lewis swallows and is impressed with himself at sounding calm and slightly bored, “do you mind? I am rather busy. The secretary could give you a number if you need something”.

“Where’re the whelps skinnings?”.

Lewis sighs, lifts up the hand holding the scalpel and points it at the ghost, “rude. As I said, I have my hands full. And I imagine the ‘whelp’ wouldn’t appreciate my patient keeling over from your pestering”. Here’s hoping the ghosts are sorta friendly with Danny at least slightly and really are against using someone's Obsession for a cheap shot.

Skulker blinks and internally winces slightly, well aware of the whelps protective Obsession, “fair play to you. I will wait. Here”, and nods curtly.

Lewis raises a very disbelieving judgmental eyebrow, “no you’re not. I somehow doubt you are even close to sterile. And I would rather not have to explain to his wife how he mysteriously got ecto-contamination during surgery”. Lewis is honestly surprised the ghost tilts his head, shrugs, and just... leaves. Ghosts were very interesting. Though he’s not about to hang up his doctor coat for the ghost hunter spandex.

Brittney walks up next to him, shaking slightly and readjusting her glasses, “Dan?”.

Lewis simply gets back to work, gesturing the others over, “yes?”. Thankfully they listen and also thankfully no one passed out on him this time.

Brittney swallows, “what the fuck”. Which just makes Lewis chuckle.

Two hours later Lewis snaps off his gloves into the trash and turns sideways to nearly crash right into the ghost. Sighing, ghosts were incredibly determined bastards. Looking at the ghosts grinning face, “this better not become routine or I’ll have to start removing your organs or something along those lines. You’re already dead, so it wouldn’t count as malpractice”.

“If you make a habit of taking parts of the whelps pelt, then gladly”.

Lewis tilts his head, that was kind of tempting; but he’s pretty sure he’ll pass. “He doesn’t need it so I don’t see why I would”, now to figure out how to deal with this, he didn’t exactly have Danny’s scraps on hand; though he had been effectively given the go-ahead. Eh he’ll just walk out to his car, slowly, and drive home, slowly. Peoples reactions could be interesting and annoying the ghost might discourage him from doing this again. He could do without ghosts showing up in his ER. Walking off and gesturing for him to follow, “follow”.

Skulker raises a metal eyebrow, “very few would dare turn their backs on the mighty Skulker”. Impressed or insulted? The doctor had turned his back on the best hunter in all the Zone at their previous encounter. And the doctor had already threatened him with a weapon. So Skulker’s leaning towards impressed.

Lewis chuckles, “if you hurt me I have one friend who’ll beat you up and another who would eat you; or at least very aggressively try to”, tilting his head as he walks, “and a fiancée who would sue you out of your lair and everything you own”. Glancing at Skulker, who of all things looks impressed.

Skulker nods curtly, “you and the whelp run in fine circles”, explains this new apparent human pet. The little whelply Prince wasn’t one for acquiring new pets.

Lewis chuckles as they pass a few nurses who looking to be trying to point out the hulking metal ghost following him like he somehow hadn’t noticed, speaking towards them, “I’m aware. Just ignore him”, then addressing said ghost while the nurses undoubtedly add this to the gossip mill, “you seem impressed”.

Skulker laughs, “a good prize should be impressive! The boys accomplishments are many, he is strong, and he is rare”, and grins more than a little viciously.

Lewis pauses as they get halfway across the parking lot, turning to Skulker, “so you respect him then. You care”, shrugging, “in a way”.

Skulker huffs and very obviously pretends to not give a damn, “a hunter respects the hunt and fellow hunters, that is all. And it wouldn’t due for him to fail to someone pathetic and unworthy”.

Lewis can’t help but laugh, “a friend of mine is like him, none of their enemies respect them. They just don’t want them to murder them. Mind you, most of their enemies die the first time they meet”. Lewis pulls out his phone as Skulker grunts, “skilled hunter”, which Lewis nods at as he walks.

Tiethief: metal spooky with lots of guns already here and apparently respects you

Tiethief: but is also trying to pretend he doesn’t

Tiethief: he is not a good actor

DPain: eh

DPain: he’s helped me the odd time

PDAxpda: well that was fast

PDAxpda: guy knows what he wants

DPain: he isn’t trying to hurt you is he

Tiethief: no

Tiethief: no need to be overprotective

Tiethief: I’m just taking him to get scraps slowly

Tiethief: very slowly

DPain: *snort* hahahaha food

DPain: *good

NightShade: make him swear not to tell vampireass monochrome’s leggy situation in return

DPain: oh shit

DPain: smart

DPain: why didn’t I think of that

PDAxpda: ‘cause you’re a dumbass

NightShade: our dumbass

DPain: hsiabdajbfje

DPain: rocker just asked if I was dating you assholes and you go and say shit like that

Lewis shakes his head as he hops into his car, sending off a final, Tiethief: you’re young, live a little, before driving off; being followed by a freaking ghost. He knows the punning he probably just encouraged but that only makes him smirk at the other two teens expense. They messed up his patient files and made Eddie practically blow up his phone while getting insanely dangerously drunk and probably killing someone to blow off steam (neither of which was all that uncommon but still; doesn’t mean he wanted that bad habit encouraged), paybacks a bitch; and apparently punny.

By the time he gets to his place he’s pretty sure the ghost is suitably annoyed. Heading in, he’s glad Anne’s still at work, better to not drag her into this. Not that she would likely mind. Would handle it with the controlled grace and power she always did. Glancing at the ghost as he moves to one of the closets, “now this stays between us, no need for Vlad to know. As far as that old friend of mine knows Danny never lost his legs. We are messing with him some”.

Skulker huffs, “I only tell him anything because he pays me”, taking a bag from the doctor guy and glancing inside. Grinning extremely maliciously, “and this outweighs any money or upgrades”.

Lewis nods and puts his hands on his hips, “another form of payment for this little gift could certainly be leaving Danny alone enough to study. He'd make a nice surgical assistant”, smirking, “he’s very good with a knife and stitch work”.

Skulker tilts his head and chuckles, “pestering the whelp is half the point. The potential of him spending his human time cutting people up and taking others scraps is tempting though”. Making the Prince even more of a little hunter was very tempting. He cared not one bit for that space whatever human job he was chasing before. So the boys studying meant nothing.

“Then bite the Eden’s apple. I already offered the kid a job”, shrugging, “granted he makes it through medical school”, glaring at the ghost purely to make a point. Feeling very smug at Skulker seeming annoyed but smiling slightly; not that it’s easy to tell with the metal face.

Lewis chuckles, “also, I appreciate you making him regrow his legs. Now I don’t have to knock him out”.

That gets Skulker to give him an almost concerned seeming look, “you have a ghost knockout device?”, which Lewis just grins at as the ghost promptly leaves. Well, he just successfully intimidated a ghost. Like symbiotes and MRI machines. Looking out the window to the dark sky, it’s about time he checks in on his patient properly; and probably patches him up yet again. That kid needed to just have a doctor shadowing him at all times.

Danny flops his head into Valerie’s lap, tail swishing lazily in the air at random. Sam and Tucker are lobbing chunks of mystery substances at each other. Valerie pats his head, “I still can’t believe you bribed a cop and got away with it”.

Danny chuckles meanly before going slightly wide-eyed, “oh yeah! And get this, Walker’s first name was apparently Cordell. Cop’s his grandson or something”.

Tucker gets hit in the head by something purple and fuzzy, “seriously? Your luck man”. Making everyone laugh just as Maddie sticks her head in, “the next CyberStep prototype is ready, sweetie”, looking around the room, “oh! You kids are still here? You really should head home and let Danny rest”, almost glaring at Valerie, “you especially missy. Danny being... endowed... or not”;

Danny wheezes in laughter while everyone else chokes. Valerie promptly hits him, so he manoeuvres his tail to poke her in the head; she, of course, swats It away. Sam however, surprises him by grabbing It and yanking him to the floor as she goes to stand, Tucker following as they move to leave.

Sam eyeballing Valerie, “well?”. Who sighs and leans down to give Danny another pat and a kiss before getting up to leave herself.

Danny sticks his arms up at her, “lift me, am baby”. Valerie snorts and leans down lifting him up, “yes, big scary baby”. Danny laughs with a high pitched voice very intentionally, “spooky scary skeleton baby”. Valerie groans and drops him on the bed, “you’re awful, you damn fool”, shoving his head into the blankets.

Danny chuckles, “you’re the worst, you stupid fool-lover”. She just snorts while Danny stays there, with his face smushed into the bed as they actually do leave.

His mom coming over after she’s sure his friends have gone. Her sitting on the bed and patting it, giving his shoulder a little rub, “you are okay with testing the CyberSteps right? And the way the house is? It’s setup? You can get to everything fine?”, continuing as he turns his head to her, “I know we haven’t really been treating this like you actually are... disabled. We’ve been treating this like you’ll pretty much go back to normal”, sighing and looking to the ceiling, “I know with the CyberSteps you’ll be able to walk again, have legs again. But it’s... it’s not the same. And I don’t- I don’t know if you want us to teat you like you’re no different. Not give you extra help or do things for you”, looking back to him and ruffling his hair a little, she can tell he’s thinking, “I know you want the general public to treat you the same and not even know anything’s happened. But us? I guess what I’m asking sweetie, is if you like the way we treat you”, trying to lighten the mood a little, make this seem less serious, “and no, by help you out I don’t mean babying you. I know you don’t like that”.

Danny opens and closes his mouth a few times. His mom was obviously worried and was definitely always going to be bothered by his leglessness, but he wasn’t actually legless. But revealing that was more than a little unpleasant sounding. Regardless what his friends say, regrowing human(ish) flesh and bone was not the same as developing a ghostly tail. It wasn’t even in the same realm of same. Literally. Humans do not heal like he does. Not even close. And him revealing he doesn’t heal like a fucking human is absolutely going to make them question if he even is human anymore. If he’s been too changed by his Core and contamination to qualify as human. And his parents deciding the answer was ‘no. Not human’ was nightmare fuel that he simply did not want to face. That, his hybrid status, was getting pried from his cold dead hands, when it came to his folks. And besides, even if he did tell her, then she’d be worried about his weird-ass healing and humanness. Which she would probably be more bothered by than him technically being ‘disabled’. So that’s solved. Kinda. Not really. Something tells him that having legs -real ones- while human was going to be an uncommon thing; too risky to have them often. He has a distinct feeling that is making ClockWork smirk meanly at him.

(ClockWork was, in fact, watching the near future with a smirk; and drumming their fingers over their staff almost in eager anticipation)

Now the other dilemma Danny’s having is this whole ‘do you want us to treat you the same/help you/modify things for you’ question. He means, the answers were obvious to him: yes/no/no. But his mom was obviously having at least a little bit of a hard time with treating him like nothings changed. Obviously she wanted to help him. And that made sense. She was his mom, any mom would want to help their disabled kid. That meant he needed to give her a reason, make her feel good and better about him not wanting that. She needed to feel like she was helping him by not helping him. Huh, talk about an oxymoron. And funnier, doing that would make him feel helpful and his Obsession at least a little content. But the question was, how to go about doing that? Tilting his head -and knowing damn well his mom is just letting him sort through his head- he could just be honest? in a different way. He disliked being babied, them helping him when he didn’t goddamn need it, because of his ghostly pride. Because of that ghostly part of his mind. His ghostly brain. Which his mom had asked about. Had asked how his mind was different, was more ghostly. He could just... tell her? That’s pretty well what she wanted right? and it would keep her from being all weird about this. Maybe anyway. Hopefully. But also how to explain that? He wasn’t kidding that he really seriously didn’t know just how different his mind was. Where did his human pride end and his ghost pride begin? He had never liked being babied, but he definitely hated it much more since the accident. But he’s pretty sure full human Danny wouldn’t mind his folks doing things for him or putting stuff in easier reach. Heck! full human Danny would probably want nothing to do with robo-legs; especially robo-legs made by his explosion prone parents. Full human Danny would probably be fine being pushed around in a wheelchair. Halfa Danny definitely wasn’t.

Swallowing, alright brain, time to be on the ghostly side. Huh, for once he was actively wanting to be ghostly around his family, “okay uh, I think that -me being bothered with being babied so much- is a ghost brain thing. And um, you guys trying to help me unnecessarily -as in I could honestly do it myself just fine- is babying to me. Wounds my pride I guess”, shrugging. It didn’t help that he was a powerful ghost. He was a proud bastard alright? Ghostly proud for sure. Nowhere near as bad as Vlad though. That guy was, like, sixty percent pride or something.

Maddie nods, making a point to not look too curious, she can tell a bit that Danny’s more certain about this than he’s letting on. So he was clearly not comfortable yet talking about how his... Core and ectoplasm affected his mind. Meaning this was probably him testing the waters a bit, him taking a bit of a leap of faith. She could understand that, it made sense, him hide anything about himself he thought was ghostly was what he was used to. He had ghost hunters for parents after all. So she needed to not be bothered by this, just like the tail and Core. But also just like with those, she was bothered, she just had to work on that and not let it show; because upsetting him, making him feel like he still had to hide parts of himself, would bother her much more. Though to get any confirmation that his mind has changed, who he is, his personality; was harder to swallow than his physical body being a bit different. And here, he probably had a point. She thought he had been more self-sufficient, more caring about his looks, and more capable as a teen. She had chalked that up to growing up, but maybe that was his ghostly influence showing. Tilting her own head, “well ghosts are prideful things. So I guess you being more proud, in a ghostly way, would make sense. Do you... have different kinds of pride? Like, human pride and ghostly pride?”. Not ‘ghost pride’ because he’s not a ghost; no matter how close to one he’s become.

Danny rolls onto his back and stares at his ceiling a little, “I think my ghost pride trumped my human one. I’m not sure I have human pride?”, tilting his head, “or maybe my ghost stuff just abducted my human pride and modified it?”. Did he actually know the answer here? No. And it’s not like he’s gonna ask Spectra how his mind worked. How human it was. That would be asking for punishment. Would really confuse her though. Maybe. She was one ghost he didn’t really understand.

Maddie nods and ruffles his hair, “your ecto-circulatory system and Core? That would make sense”, looking up at the ceiling too, “ghosts are impressions of the living, so your ghostly set up cannibalising your human pride and leaving you with the ecto-impression of it seems plausible. Seems logical pride would be something your ectoplasm would latch on to or overpower”, she bites back adding that ghosts were obviously proud since they seemed to think they were better or above the living when they were only the leftovers of the living. Effectively scraps. But that thought makes her squint a little, there wasn’t anything for Danny’s Core to be a ‘scrap’ of... The tail was obvious, but the Core? They had thought those were likely built of leftover emotional imprints or maybe the heart? That clearly couldn’t be right since Danny still had a heart -Dan had pretty well confirmed his heart being there- and, even with his aloofness, she’s still positive he was definitely all there emotionally. So the Core was an addition, not a leftover. Meaning that maybe... they were at least partly wrong. On their basic understanding/finding, of all things. Maybe the majority of a ghost was leftovers, but some were new?

Danny interrupts her thoughts, “‘ecto-circulatory system’? Is that just, like, what you’re calling my, uh, ectoplasm? And I think it’s more likely that ghost pride, or whatever, is stronger and more focused on, or something, and so the human pride is kinda redundant? Would be wasteful to have two, I think”, chuckling, “I guess ‘cannibalising’ is one way to put it. More like taking the old and upgrading it”, then very stupidly adding, “less ‘impression’, more ‘freed from unneeded baggage”, and instantly cringing because calling living, breathing, eating, organs, etcetera, ‘baggage' was probably simultaneously worrying and offensive. Maybe she wouldn’t take it that way? Even if it was... kinda true. Why have organs and bones when you can just be energy? Why be reliant on oxygen and food when you could just... not? But at the same time, why need to absorb ectoplasm, just one thing, instead of diversifying your needs? No ectoplasm equals some pretty fucked and probably fading ghosts. No cheese or beef just equals ‘eat something else you moron’. Still though...

Maddie gives her son a slightly concerned look, did he have that ‘ghosts are better than the living’ mindset? That could.... could explain his tolerance and even seeming fondness of ghosts. But he also clearly didn’t ascribe to humans being lesser; than ghosts or him. Like how some people just found cats better than dogs, better pets than dogs; but didn’t view dogs as some lesser beings. Was this part of his ghostly influences or just the way he would view things regardless? She should ask instead of assuming, assuming has gotten her in a bad way a lot it seems. And she told herself she’d do less of that. But first, his question. His curiosities were more important than hers, especially if he might be genuinely worried about anything, “your ecto-circulatory system is just what your dad rather dubbed your Core and ectoplasm. How it works and flows together. Like blood and a heart”, shifting a bit and biting her lip, “I guess having two kinds of pride would be unnecessary. But... do you? think ghosts are better than humans? Above?”, looking at his face and making a point to come off as gentle, “swapping ‘impression’ for ‘losing baggage’ sounds less like they are our leftovers and more like we’re garbage holding back our ghosts”. When it came to power she could understand, humans simply couldn’t match ghosts when it came to raw power. But they lost so much. Or that’s what research said, what she had thought for so long. But even if they were wrong about ghosts being emotionless and unable to feel pain. And, according to Danny, about being able to reproduce. Ghosts still lost organs. A truly physical existence. They were still bound to Obsession, even if Dan’s idea of them loving their Obsessions had merit. They still existed almost endlessly. They still were trapped in a form, ‘mind’, habit, personality, that could barely change at all. That was horrible. A loss. Not freedom or shedding off baggage. And certainly not better. Maybe it was good and better for the ones that never knew life.

Danny pushes himself to sit up and chuckles awkwardly, he sure loves making his life harder huh? “uh, I wouldn’t say ‘garbage’”, he pointedly ignores her slightly relieved sigh, “better comparison would be prototype to finished product. Prototypes are smaller, weaker, less effective. But more manipulatable, easier to deal with, informative. Prototypes you can practically upgrade or modify like crazy. Finished things go obsolete”, tilting his head and looking a little far off, “‘when things reach their ultimately conclusion, their final stage, they can go no more. But the universe is a thing of endless mores. There will always be a higher goal. A harder day. A stronger fight. A more expensive cost. To stagnate is to someday die out. To cease to exist when the universe requires beyond the final evolutions limits. But life is a thing of endless evolution. Of constant change. Always taking more and more and more. Never to rest’”, nodding his head with a smile, “‘and that, young one, is why I love life’”, chuckling and looking back to his slightly startled looking mom, “I might have made a stupidly wise friend”, shrugging, “sure they also then went on about why they love death. But you get the point I think”.

Maddie blinks, alright so maybe him being more grown-up had something to do with making -what sounds to be- a very smart friend. Likely an adult. Choosing to make light of this because that was a bit heavy and her boy clearly thought highly of this friend; he remembered them word for word!, “and here I thought I’ve met all your friends”, patting his head and getting lightly scowled at in return, “though I would like to know what they think of ghosts”, sighing and looking back to the ceiling, “as for what you said, most people consider prototypes inferior. So that doesn’t really change my question”.

Danny nods a little, fair enough, “well... uh, I think ghosts are better yeah. Kinda. In ways”, shrugging, “the strength. The durability. The powers. The sorta immortality and Obsessions though, heh”, he may love helping and protecting people, and enjoy satisfying that pesky Obsession of his; but it was still annoying pushy bastard. Shaking his head, “and my friend? They’re kinda a loner”, was a bit weird calling ClockWork simply ‘friend’ but he so doesn’t want to get into that. Chuckling, “‘death -in the way it is known for ghosts- is a finality in a way that finality is not. An end unending. Eternity, or at the very least the possibility of it, on a shiny silver plater. A steady star in space. Enhancing and overwhelming everything around it. Never bending for anything. It’s beauty and strength. Chaos and destruction. Pure and raw; leaving room for nothing else. And the universe is nothing without that’”, Danny nods and adds, “pretty sure they also said ‘think of it like this: without death, life is worthless. Death is the core and essence of life. Without it life is just a bled dry husk. And that’s something I care nothing for’ on the same topic”.

Maddie can’t help blinking again, this whoever seemed like they genuinely didn’t prefer one over the other. Reminded her a little of Dan actually. She’s not sure she agrees with the idea that the living are worthless without ghosts. Or maybe Jack’s wild on-the-spot idea of needed ghosts had some serious merit. As in, world would end without them, kind of merit. Then squinting, thinking on the weird emphasis Danny put on ‘Obsessions’; it couldn’t- could he possibly? “Sweetie-”. Only to get cut off by Jack barging in, holding up the CyberSteps.

“I got tired of waiting! So I figured I’d just bring them up! Plus! It might be more convenient to test here! Since if there’s some kind of reaction then Danny can just hop right into bed!”. Maddie tilts her head and nods slightly; he had a point.

Danny looks around his room and rubs his neck, thinking of all the shit he hid fucking everywhere in here, “uh, I’d rather not have anything that, y’ know, might explode or anything, in my room while doing things that would make it maybe explode or something”. His dad actually blushes at that and deflates a little. So Danny adds on, “still cool with testing though dad. Just not here”; earning a wide smile in return.

Maddie nods and sighs slightly, standing up with a smile; storing away her question and worry for later, “might as well do that now then”, smiling almost meanly at Jack, “since someone’s over eager”. Jack just chuckles and grins.

Danny flicks around his tail, feeling how easy it would be to simply have legs yet how not draining the tail still was. Super odd but fuck it, odd is him or whatever. Floating up off his bed and flying his face right up to the legs, more than a little curious what they've changed to account for his Core in a way that actually works in any way. Looking inside the legs, “so, think you’ve fixed the signals miscommunication issue?”, deciding not to add ‘without messing anything else up’.

Jack beams and nods, father and son chatting a little as they head out and down the stairs. Maddie watching from behind and smiling to herself, glad he didn’t seem to be closing himself off or act uncomfortable after their ghost-related talk; like he often did. Probably had something to do with her effectively reintegrating that they were willing and okay to hear him out on his opinions and ghost tolerance. Or maybe from them knowing about his ghostly influence and accepting that as simply part of him. Refocusing and watching his tail flick and swish around; which only makes her smile grow a little. He truly had gotten pretty good with it; not a wobble or falter in sight. He might even be able to give some ghost a run for their money, once he was healed up of course, which Jack would absolutely cheer and brag over.

Danny turns his head towards his mom just as they get into the kitchen -the currently designated blast zone, since doing it in the lab around sensitive anti-ghost stuff really was stupid- tilting his head at her giggling to herself, “what?”, and blushing when she glances to his tail; him coiling It around a little, making her smile crinkle her eyes a little. Guess his folks were finally -thank the Ancients- genuinely getting use to the tail. Turning back to his dad, who sets down the legs and gestures at them a bit ridiculously. Making Danny laugh and shake his head with a smile, “yeah yeah, alright”.

Grabbing the waist and slipping his tail in, instantly wondering what would happen if he went all leggy while wearing the legs. Legs on top of legs. Legs inside of legs. Fucking legception. That’s for another day though, even if he grins like an idiot over the thought. Moving for the thumbprint scanner and pausing, huh, they moved the timer. Nice, way less awkward. Shrugging and attaching the neuroreceptors, “where'd the timer go? Not that I’m complaining”. Considering that thing controlled the drain, he’d rather be able to see it without pulling some inhuman body horror shit.

Maddie walks up and taps on the neuroreceptors between his shoulder blades, “it’s on your back, we think shortening the distance between your brain and Core, and the timer conductor might just do the trick. With a couple other changes of course”, shrugging a little, “even if that increases the distance between it and your tail -the most accessible of your ectoplasm- as well as the main body of the CyberSteps”.

Jack adds in with a laugh, “and just like before! It’s completely protected from bumps and it can be locked so no one can go fiddling with it on you!”, and slaps Dannys back over the strip, then blushing and realising that was probably dumb to do.

Danny tries (and fails) to look over his shoulder at it while his dad turns it to actually start up, “uh, won’t it be kinda hard for me to adjust it there”.

Both parents blink like this hadn’t occurred to them. “Oh”. While Danny glances to his chest and tries to focus on what he’s feeling. Again, the draining is near nothing, which is good though foreboding.

Maddie shakes her head, “well we could add a small chest bar so it could be on your chest”, nodding and thinking to herself a little, “would fall right over his Core then”.

Danny raises an eyebrow before grumbling, “who am I? Tony Stark?”, snorting to himself, “well I am a literal metal ass. Rockin’ robotics”. Then deciding why not try walking, didn’t seem like anything was going horribly awfully wrong.

Lewis had walked in just during Danny’s little dig toward Ironman and had promptly muttered to himself, “considering the super-suit leading a merry band of heroes. Yes. Yes you are”, which he’s pretty sure Danny missed. As he watches the kid go to lift his ‘leg’ -what happened to him regrowing his legs???- only for said leg to practically high kick the air aggressively, sweep Danny clean off his other foot, and flip him onto his back; hard. Eliciting a little ‘oof’ from Danny and making Lewis sigh. What is it with walking in on the hero/vigilante type getting hurt? Especially Danny. Was like the boy felt a moral and physical obligation to get injured at the sight of a doctor. Which actually... does seem like something Danny would get a kick out of.

Maddie and Jack quickly move to help him sit up. Lewis puts his last bag on the floor and walks over. Danny rubs his head and mumbles in ghost, “o̸҉w̧͘͏,̕͡ ͞I’͝v̕ę ̴͝w͘h̵̨a͝c̴͠k̕ed̴͠ m̷̕y ̢͠͡hea̵d ͏͠͠a͝ ̢͢͝sh̷͘i̛t ̵̕t͘o͟n͡ ̨a͝n͞d̸͝ ͞s̶͏͢om͡e͜͡ho͠w ͠t҉̵h͜a̡͜t̡ was͘ ͜͞͝w͜ay҉ ̛mo̕͠r̴͠e͏̸ ͏̡p̡̨ai̴͘nf͟ưl̡͝͡”, and shakes his head. Making his folks blink in surprise and squint at him slightly, many times they’ve thought they heard him muttering in a strange language; never heard it so clearly before though.

Jack chuckles and gives a lopsided awkward smile, “I guess you knowing ghost speak makes sense, son”. Catching Danny off guard, “e͘͜͞h̴̵҉¿”. Realising his fuck up, he goes to stand up only for the legs to overreact again and basically toss him -back first, because of course it does- into the table.

Lewis stands up and shakes his head, hands on his hips, “well I’m glad you’re up and walking, but maybe you should turn that down a little. Before you put a foot through the ceiling or hurt yourself further”. Danny just stands there rubbing his neck awkwardly before glancing cautiously at the legs. Though really? Lewis is damn impressed these things are actually working at all. And that Danny’s braces don’t look destroyed, but that’s another matter.

Jack chuckles, checks over the timer/conductor, and scratches his head, “they’re still on the lowest setting actually”. Maddie sighs, shakes her head, and repositions the table back where it belongs.

Her sitting down and eyeballing the CyberSteps, “I’m really not sure what else we can try. Any lower and it’s not gonna pick up and convert the signals successfully”.

Jack snatches up the little tray of peanut fudge brittle Maddie made earlier and puts it on the table. One’s missing, so he’s guessing Jazz took one before she turned in for the night. Least Dan joins them at the table. Danny looks to attempt to but winds up on the floor again. At least he lands on his butt though! Or the CyberSteps butt really. Oh whatever, all’s the same.

Danny just sits there, ‘legs’ sticking out straight, and vainly attempts to reach over his shoulder to flick the dial. His own normal flexibility surprising him a little at actually being able to reach the thing and turn it. But in typical fashion he turns it the wrong way, taking more from him and watching the legs start smoking concerningly; promptly turning the dial the other way. Everyone watching the smoke while Danny chuckles slightly, “heh”.

Danny decides ‘fuck it, pretty sure these are already busted’ and changes his tail to legs. Promptly reminding himself of the fact that the hooks for his tail are actual hooks via him being actively stabbed. Alright, he really should have seen that coming. Changing back to his tail to hopefully not leak blood everywhere and ecto-burning away any blood that might (definitely) have gotten on the hooks. Using said hooks to use his tail to stand up and get out of the (still smoking)CyberSteps.

Lewis watches him float to sit and grab up some of the brittle, pretty sure there’s some specks of blood on the ‘bandaging’. Which come on really? How does something made entirely of ectoplasm bleed human blood? How? Danny’s body made so little sense. Eddie's made more sense. And Vee was a liquid.

Maddie pats Danny's shoulder, “you alright sweetie?”. Danny of course giving a solid ‘yep’. Which Lewis is calling bullshit on, “I’ll be the judge of that”, earning an eye roll.

Jack nods and rubs his neck, “guess you’d like to check him over right off the bat huh?”, then perking up a bit, “then me and Mads can take the CyberSteps down! Give them a little check over of their own!”.

Making Danny snort, “really splitting the work there. A bio mechanic and tech mechanic. Real two for one. How suiting. Built for me”. Lewis just shoos the pair towards the lab door, Jack scooping up the ‘legs’ and bounding over; Maddie right behind after ruffling Danny’s hair.

Danny mumbles at the table as the lab door closes, “what is with ruffling my hair today?”. Then scowling at Lewis for attempting to ruffle his hair with a small smirk, Danny going intangible to block him.

Lewis rounds on Danny, pointing at his tail, “now, why is that bloody? How’s your back and arm? Can you get concussions? And I thought you said you had legs again?”.

“Twenty-one questions much? Everything’s fine, doc. I discovered the CyberSteps qualify as an iron maiden for legs. If I can get concussions I never have I think. And I’m not legless, I’m leg optional”, changing to legs and crossing them for emphasis and to effectively show off his (still intact)fashion disaster. Feeling slightly cold chair against his bare legs, and possibly the bottoms of his ass cheeks; which he’s studiously ignoring, because Ancients damnit how do girls wear this shit and not feel awkward as Hell.

Lewis blinks, “I’m pretty sure this qualifies as a crime for me to see”, well, no wonder he asked for pants. No guy should be in anything like this against his will; least Danny was rolling with it.

“Fuck the law. Also, I might have encouraged Vee to eat a cop... and a priest”.

Lewis shakes his head and gets up, “again, you’re a bad influence”. Watching Danny as he gets up and walks around his chair, going to head up the stairs. Whelp, guess he can walk. And has the most insane healing factor imaginable. Eddie technically didn’t have any special healing, Vee can just put Eddie back together. Like a jigsaw puzzle that can regrow any lost pieces to boot.

Lewis shakes his head as he closes Danny’s bedroom door, “I am once again in awe of your body”, Danny gives him a really weird look at that and awkwardly slaps his ass. Lewis scowls at him, “no. Eddie can do that, not you”, gesturing for the boy to sit down so he can make sure everything’s as it should be for a healthy person.

Danny raises an eyebrow, giving his arm over, “Eddie slaps his ass at you?”, muttering to the side, “I think Tuck is winning a bet”.

Lewis studiously ignores that, he had more than a few people question if his friendship with Eddie was really ‘just friends’. Sure, he and Anne had talked about that, opening things up. But they were pretty agreed on that being a bad idea. At least currently anyway. Pulling at bandaging, “back to tail, I somehow think that’ll be easier to wrap and less wasteful”, both of them shaking their heads at the flesh-coloured tail. Lewis quirks an eyebrow at his waist coming to a clean smooth flat end before transitioning to the tail. Eh, least he was healed and wrap-able; positives Lewis, positives.

Checking over the braces quickly, only having to change out a cracked back brace surprisingly. And very closely checking Danny’s job of reattaching his arm, the kid was seriously too good at stitching; and bone alignment apparently. Leaning back and nodding at his own work, pointless as it technically was, “guess I don’t have to gas you now”.

Danny grimaces, he’s not going to underestimate Lewis’s seriousness about healing again, “you were seriously going to do that, huh?”. Lewis just smirks at him as Danny floats up off the bed.

Lewis speaks up before Danny turns his doorknob, “speaking of Eddie, what is up with everyone thinking you’re old?”. Danny’s grin is downright malicious, “what? Did you not believe me when I pointed out time travel is a dear friend of mine”, finger-gunning at the doc, “I do have basically the god of time in my corner after all. And a time slash dimension-hopping map”.

Lewis nods acceptingly, “I’m surprised time jumping is even legal. Though ClockWork seems like the type that might not care”.

Danny chuckles, “law means nothing to them. Time loves crime. We’re like twins”, and grins meanly before opening the door and going to head back to the kitchen; Lewis following. Maybe see what ideas his folks have now, inspire them a little; they seemed kinda stuck. Which at this point was fair. For every thing that worked, something else didn’t.

The two enter to the two parents glaring at the table and off-handledly munching on brittle. Danny blinks, looks to Lewis, shrugs, and turns back to his folks. Floating over to the table, “drawing blanks?”. Jack nods and hums; taking another bite. Danny moving to sit, cooking his tail around the seat.

Maddie looks at Danny and squints, “it’s like the timer conductor simply can’t work in proper alignment with itself and you”.

Lewis tilts his head, “well couldn’t you just separate the timer function and conductor function? Sacrifice a little space-saving in the name of functionality?”. This thing working at all is a miracle alone. It also being stylish, and realistic, and compact, and durable, and practically self-sufficient; seems straight-up impossible. “Like a friend likes to say ‘ain’t nothing wrong with the cheap n’ easy option’”, shrugging, “sure, he’s usually talking about food and booze, but I think the mindset applies”.

Jack shakes his head absently, mumbling into his food, “only the best for Danny-boy”. Maddie pats his arm comfortingly. Lewis points at him, “working at all might be the best though”. Jack just grumbles incoherently at that.

Danny shrugs awkwardly, “I’m fine either way. An extra dial is nothing really”. He is not going to school or walking around town without legs, Ancients Damnit!

Maddie sighs and nods, “we’ll see, we’d rather not of course, but we’ll see. I’m not entirely convinced that would work anyway. Might make it even worse. Since the two need to communicate so closely and heavily. Control how much is taken, how, and stored. Control how much is released and where to at a time”.

Jack nods, joining the conversation more in genuine, “I think the timer isn’t working really. It’s just not strong enough. The conductor can’t take little enough, even with storing excess, for the timer to handle; without taking too little to even activate the conductor properly”.

Maddie nods and gives Danny a soft look, “your ecto’s just too strong. The conductor needs to be strong enough to keep up and handle you, but the timer doesn’t seem able to keep up with that. We’re pretty sure the timer’s maxed out”. Danny cringes and rubs his neck, looking around awkwardly. A more power-hungry ghost would be tickled green to hear that.

Jack nods, “feasibly, we could increase storage space but that would botch the design clear to the Zone. Definitely wouldn’t be able to match your physique. Noticeably so”, and glancing at him. Knowing full well Danny wouldn’t be happy with that.

Danny instantly grimacing, “yeah no. I’ll pass on that option”. Earning a round of nods.

Lewis leans back and taps his chin, “I’m assuming by ‘too strong’ you mean ecto-level right? And could you just... make a different kind of timer? Or a conductor that could compress his energy on top of storing it?”. Hey, sometimes an outside perspective helped.

Maddie raises an eyebrow at Dan, “oh? Danny explained ecto-levels, I take it?”, shaking her head, “this timer is our newest model. I’m not sure we can currently make something stronger. And everything we’ve got for compression right now are capture devices or would likely hurt anything that could actually feel pain”, and winces slightly from Danny’s sudden sharp glare; promptly getting a matching one from Dan. Right, she was supposed to be rethinking that. And she was, honest. It’s just, they had been so sure. Fiddling with her glove a little, “habit sweetie”. Danny rolls his eyes, like he always did when they would ignore or disregard his opinions; which made her cringe. She probably just took at least a small step back with him. Lewis just continues with the glare.

Jack nods, “we haven’t really had a chance to look into reviewing things, son”, chuckling slightly, “give us some wiggle room, would ya?”. Danny rolls his eyes again but this time he has a slight smile.

Danny shrugs, back brace scraping almost loudly against the back of the chair as he leans back, “well I definitely don’t want anything that hurts ghosts being used on me. And honestly? There was never any reason to think ghosts don’t feel pain”. Lewis just nods, this wasn’t really his fight here; he’ll interject if he thinks he needs to though.

Maddie gestures with her hands, “but they don’t have nervous systems, it doesn’t make any sense. There’s no brain to measure or process that stuff”.

Jack nods a furrows his brows, “same reason we didn’t believe they had emotions. Or the ability to love, or really care about anything other than their Obsession and chaos”. Even Lewis has to admit, he’s got no clue how something without a brain experiences things that require brainwaves and nerves to experience. Ghosts or symbiotes. Though he’s got a few ideas regarding Vee.

Danny blinks, in his opinion it was obvious ghost could feel; both emotions and pain. Literally just look at them and it was obvious. But yeah, he guesses from a purely slightly close-minded human-centric scientific eye it would seem illogical or impossible. And he’s never exactly questioned the ‘how’ of ghosts feeling anything. His ghostly self included. Maybe if he could find an answer to that then his folks might really truly genuinely change their tune on ghosts; instead of just pondering it. So how did he feel things a ghost? Okay stupid question, he felt through his ectoplasm of course. But how? Everything had a slight tingle in ghost form, he had figured he was just feeling his own ecto; but maybe that wasn’t the case. Kinda like how if you pressed your finger down on something and really focused or pressed you could feel your pulse. And Cores were often described -even by him- as like a brain and they effectively were ghost hearts. Maybe that was even more literal. His Core would pulse or vibrate harder if it was doing lots of work, but it would also vibrate pretty noticeably when he was happy; he got teased about ‘purring’ over that. And his Core did get colder and even felt harder when he was pissed off. Kinda wet when he was sad. Huh, he probably should have noticed the emotional connection a long ass time ago; though not really feeling his Core consciously was a good excuse for not, background noise after all. Emotions were effectively felt through the Core. And any pain he experienced did seem to be slightly worse around his chest. So It was probably processing, or whatever, that pain. Sure people didn’t feel head pain every time they stabbed their finger with a knife, but humans were less in-tune with their brains than ghosts were with their Cores. Humans can’t ‘feel’ their brains by just focusing after all. Same went for blood verses ectoplasm though. If anything, ghosts felt more than the living.

Danny blinks, staring down at the table before looking back to his folks; who are giving him curious looks. Well damn, ghosts felt everything with their Cores. He officially gets why they were all so damn protective of them; beyond just instinctively feeling protective. Part of why they were sacred. This also explained his parents' confusion too. They admitted to knowing near nothing about Cores, so they wouldn’t know everything Cores did.

Danny sits up straight and puts a hand over his chest brace, over where his Core was, “it’s the Core. How ghosts feel things. They feel it with their Core”, continuing at his parents eyebrows raising and basically matching Lewis’s curiosity; though he can tell his dad’s restraining himself, which Danny appreciates. “Er, not sure if it’s the same for me -doubt it- but It does react to emotion and general pain. Uh, sometimes before I mentally do”, shrugging awkwardly and trying to make the air feel less crushing, “Sam and Tuck like to poke fun at my, um, purring when I’m happy or really content. Heh”, and glancing around.

Lewis smirks meanly, Danny moving his glancing to him and scowling. It was just like whenever anyone -other than Eddie- called Vee’s little snake head thing ‘cute’; which it was cute. They do that cat bleb thing too, so it was their own fault they were cute. Both Venom and Danny being cat-like wasn’t a similarity he ever expected to find.

Jack kinda wants to ask, ask everything actually, but specifically if Danny could show it or let them feel it? his Core feeling things. But he has a feeling his boy wouldn’t appreciate basically show-ponying. And experiencing an emotion, even faked, at the drop of a hat was kinda hard. Plus! He believes his boy! So does he really need to ask? His wife speaks up before he does, which is so uncommon that Danny is probably weirded out by that. Maddie tilts her head a little, “‘before you mentally do’ so your... Core is actually more emotionally sensitive?”, and squints at the air.

Maddie’s not really sure what to do with that information. She could write it off as a side-effect of forming a Core while still having a brain, nervous system, etcetera. But... realistically it made more sense to think that his Core was very similar to practically the same as a regular Core; an ice Core type specifically. And trying to claim his Core could experience emotions and pain but a regular one couldn’t was a serious fundamental difference. Sure she had hoped his ghost would keep the ability to feel emotions when It fully formed, but for his ghost’s Core to already experience emotions and in a completely different way than humans did... It wouldn’t make any sense if the Core hadn’t come in with Its own emotional setup. Especially if It picked up on emotions first. And there was the whole complication of pain, because her job rather required ‘hurting’ ghosts; but ghosts ‘hurt’ each other so she’s not too bothered by that. But thinking on the ice Core thing, maybe she could jump off from that to try and place how maybe normal his was? Ugh, she seriously wishes they knew more about Cores. “Do you maybe feel things icily?”.

Danny gives her a slightly confused look, he's pretty sure that question wasn’t worded very well. “Like if my Core gets icy with emotions?”, he actually needs the clarification here. At her nod he continues, “uh, It’s always cold. But uh, more cold rock when I’m mad and ice water when sad? I’m not really sure how to put it”, rubbing his neck, “I know I drop room temperatures when I’m mad”, tilting his head, “Sam and Tuck say I literally suck the heat out of them if I’m sad or really bummed or whatever”, shrugging, “has to be, like, strong emotion for others to really notice. I think?”; he’s pretty sure people would say something if he chilled rooms every time he was mildly frustrated. Everyone would have to wear sweaters during tests.

Lewis blinks, maybe it was better his Core was all exhausted at the hospital. But hey, it was a step up from eating someones organs in response to annoyance. Or drinking yourself under the table and then the floor, having questionable gang bangs, and getting a tattoo of a horse eating pickles.

Maddie and Jack exchange a Look. Alright, so his Core absolutely could and did process emotions and in Its own way. They absolutely couldn’t deny that ghosts feeling -and thus caring, experience pain, having morals- was not only plausible but likely. And Danny was right, if ghosts had something they could feel with then there really wasn’t a reason to assume they couldn’t feel. Looking back and nodding at Danny. Jack sticking out his arms, “I guess ice Core ghosts are emotionally cold literally”. And grinning at making Danny snort and laugh.

Danny nods at his dad with an amused smile, putting his chin in a palm/hand brace, elbow on the table. Looking to his mom as she speaks up, “I guess Cores are a lot more than a vital energy source. And if this isn’t just a you thing, a modification of your Core due to being human still, then ghosts wouldn’t be emotionless. Wouldn’t be pure chaos and evil”, sighing and leaning back, “so I guess ghosts really can’t be purely evil. But I think we really need to actually encounter a so-called ‘good’ ghost, to see just what kind of good that is”.

Danny can’t resist a wide grin effectively splitting across his face. That grin becoming pinched and very forced, while his folks jump in their seats a little as a portal just opens up, in the middle of the kitchen.

Lewis’s eyebrows get lost in his hairline successfully and he’s wondering just how often do ghosts just pop up when Danny was involved in literally anything. He’s known Eddie for a year and he’s only dropped a criminal on him once, an alien once sorta twice but he never really had anything to do with Riot, and corpses (or on their way to being a corpse) once; Eddie was much better about giving ‘I’m eating out’ heads up now. Danny he’s known less than a month and there’s been what? Three ghosts dropped on him? The metal one, Skulker, twice. The biker, Johnny right? And that time he almost walked in on the ClockWork ghost, that didn’t quite count as an encounter though.

Lewis physically wheezes at the timing of this ghost as they stick their blue hood-covered head through the portal. While Danny feels the need to forcibly restrain himself from smacking ClockWork over the head, as they float fully through the portal in their child form.

Jack and Maddie blink, if they were a little less tired then they would have immediately whipped out pistols from their suits and held the spook at gunpoint; though holding back on firing until this strange ghost seemed hostile, if for anything to appease their (definitely overly ghost friendly)son and try out his ‘ghosts aren’t evil’ mindset.

Jack and Maddie’s sleep deprivation-induced hesitance gives the ghost the chance to smirk mischievously and speak, “you called?”.

Danny blinks and gapes like a fish, clacking his jaw shut to avoid yelling ‘what the fuck ClockWork?!?!?’ because seriously. What the fuck are they thinking? What are they doing? Has his guardian lost their damn mind? Has all their sense of reason and common sense utterly timed out? What’s their malfunction? Does their clock Core need Its batteries changed? The hands tightened? The clock face or case polished? The pendulum realigned? Danny tears his eyes off them and looks to his parents, opening his mouth back up, “uhhhhhhh”.

Lewis sighs into a hand, “and you are?”. Jack and Maddie glance at him quickly with looks of utter disbelief; was the man just utterly unflappable?

Danny just loses it at that, ‘cause take a fucking context clue mr. smart doctor man, “do you not see the clocks everywhere? Whom the fuck DO YOU THINK?!?”.

Lewis levels him with an unimpressed look, “I’m being nice”. This was probably ClockWork, but he wasn’t one for assumptions.

Jazz walks downstairs rubbing her eyes and yawning, “it’s five in the morning? Why are you-”, yawning, “-yelling? Why are you up?”. Then drops her hand, stops walking, and stares.

ClockWork grins, “hello Jasmine”.

“You... know my name?”.

Danny thumps his head on the table, “they know everything”, confirming who this was to her and Lewis really, while Danny bangs his head on the table repeatedly.

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peaceoutofthepieces · 4 years

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I just can’t stop thinking about all the possibilities of an Eliott season. Especially with all his clips this season and the discussions going on and all the ‘cheating’ storylines. Because I think the way it’s being portrayed is that Eliott is one of the characters most likely to continue this thread. Like, with what he said a couple eps ago about the kind of ‘reasons’ people cheat, the excuses they use, and a lot of people assuming that was how he felt personally. And I don’t think that’s what it is.

The space they’d have with an Eliott season to deal with misconceptions is just huge. I feel like they wouldn’t leave his bipolar out, that’d definitely be a factor in it, and there’s already room in that, all the mistaken ideas of the kind of person that makes him and the constant wondering if that’s why he’s doing whatever he’s doing etc etc. And it could again filter into the ‘cheating’ line. Like how Lucille said at first, that he was with Lucas, only interested in Lucas, on a ‘whim’, like it was only a side-effect of his MI.

That, coupled with his sexuality, is just brimming with possibility. The possibility of dealing with bi/panphobia and all the stereotypes and misconceptions there could be just as likely. We can see after today’s clip that even Lucas doesn’t really get it. He’s the person that loves Eliott most, that knows him best, and it’s still a deep-rooted worry in him that he’s more likely to look for something better because he has so many ‘more options’. I understand it, because it isn’t the case of just “maybe he’s more interested in that boy than he is in me” but the possibility extends to anyone and everyone. Lucas has that natural insecurity, I think, and he’s also dealing with the idea that he’s more likely to cheat because he’s done it before.

I’d just love to see them deal with all these ideas and how they’re wrong. Get rid of the concept of ‘once a cheater, always a cheater’ and bi/pan people taking up a lot of that category. Because I agree with Arthur and I’m glad he said what he said today. He has the understanding from Alexia without the fear Lucas has and gets that it doesn’t make a difference and I’d love them to actually show that. To have the ‘opportunity’ to cheat there and to have Eliott show no interest in it. I don’t know about his relationship with Lucille, and his cheating having to do with him not really loving her or not loving her enough. But Lucille is the one who says herself that Lucas isn’t the same. And I genuinely do think Eliott loves him more, because it’s clear how much he loves him even in the tiny bits from this season, and one of the core Evak concepts is that they’ve never felt that way about anyone else. So I think people ‘fearing’ an Eliott season because he might cheat, or something might happen to Elu, is just a waste of energy. David and Niels are stupid. They get the purpose of Evak, and ‘alt er love’, and know the response they’d get if they did the slightest thing to make people think they’d ‘ruined’ Elu’s relationship.

I think I lost my point and don’t even know what this says anymore but basically I’m saying maybe the reason they’re focusing so much on all this love stuff and cheating is so they can flip it around. Because no one ‘expected it’ of Arthur, whereas Eliott’s own boyfriend expects it of him. And I just think it’d be a really good message to disprove all of it and have that discussion and that representation, if it was done well. Which we know these people can do.

Basically if we get an Eliott season my bi heart would feel very validated and also the MI discussion and the Even season I’ve always wanted would just be brilliant.

He is in fact my favourite character ever and if we do get his season I will become a pure fan page for him the way @dreamy-slytherin is for Jens. There’ll just be no preventing it

#eliott demaury #elu #skam france #i dont think this rant even makes sense anymore #but im now obsessed with this concept #and needed to get it out

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rillegas08 · 4 years

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Innocent Until Proven Guilty

I've been thinking about the "innocent until proven guilty" justice system in America lately. And how misleading it is.

People who don't want reform for police, the justice system as it exists, and whatever else are under the impression that the justice system is just and fair, but that's just not the case. We could discuss the specific laws and policies that affect Black people disproportionately like Jim Crow laws and their predecessors, marijuana possession, and redlining, but ultimately it wouldn't do much. People are convinced, largely because of crime shows like CSI, that most if not all laws are passed in order to help society. Ironically, shows like CSI depict the "guilty until proven innocent" system that actually exists, and no one seems to realize it.

Innocent until proven guilty (IUPG) means that you don't look at the suspects until you've analyzed enough evidence to determine what a suspect's profile is. That inherently means that practices like entrapment, good cop/bad cop routines, and planting drugs cannot be part of a system based on IUPG. CSI is usually good at this, since the main focus of the show is on the evidence. This method is scientific in nature, which seeks to find evidence that disproves a hypothesis in order to determine whether or not the hypothesis has merit.

At the same time, though, it very often fails to meet that standard citizens expect from the justice system. Guilty until proven innocent (GUPI) means that you look at your suspect(s) and look for evidence to put them away. CSI often uses GUPI in episodes where the perpetrator wasn't put in jail for one reason or another, usually a technicality, and the perp is a suspect in another case. Without fail, the CSIs focus their efforts on proving the suspect committed the crime, even if they didn't. The CSIs also commonly make claims to suspects based on evidence that hasn't been fully analyzed depending on how heinous the crime or perceived crime is. One instance I recall is when the CSIs accused a veteran who moved his daughter off-grid after his wife was killed (and he was a suspect) of having sex with his daughter, when the evidence later determined that she was sneaking boys in.

Now, let's compare the Central Park 5 to Brock Turner. In 1989, a female jogger accused five young Black men of raping her. She later admitted (as well as the lack of any evidence) that this was a lie , but by then the damage was done. The boys were sentenced to between 5-15 years in prison for a crime they didn't commit. In 2015, Brock Turner raped an unconscious girl behind a 7/11. He was sentenced to six months but only served three because the judge was concerned about his future as a swimmer despite damningly conclusive evidence. In the Central Park 5 case, the case was pursued based solely on the testimony of the jogger. They were deemed guilty before any evidence was collected, and the case against them was built around finding things to incriminate them. In the Brock Turner case, there were witnesses who saw and stopped him. He was without a doubt guilty, but was still given a much, much lighter sentence than five teens who did nothing wrong.

How does CSI, and cops in real life, get away with GUPI? A method they follow every episode called MMO: means, motive, opportunity.

Is the suspect able to commit the crime? For example, the suspect owning the type of weapon used to kill the victim.

Does the suspect have a reason to commit the crime? For example, the suspect being in the victim's will.

Could the suspect have been in the same place at the same time when the victim was murdered? For example, if the suspect was the last person to see the victim alive.

Notice how each of these start with the suspect in mind, and the evidence after. It makes sense from a narrative perspective when you can only have a few suspects in a 1-hour episode. It also makes sense in real life, since we as humans are naturally drawn toward simplicity, a tendency known as heuristics. Imagine for a moment a tattoo artist. If I had to guess, unless you thought of a tattoo artist you know, you thought of a white guy with a beard and several tattoos himself, maybe even in a tank top to display those tattoos. It just makes logical sense that a guy like that, with a literal blank canvas for skin, would want to be a tattoo artist, right? Heuristics are useful in many situations, but the one situation heuristics should never be used is in legal matters, because heuristics also depend on stereotypes which, in regards to the legal system, are based on racist policies like redlining, which determined that Black neighborhoods were less desirable than white neighborhoods, and which was also used to determine where to put highways. In the Twin Cities, the Rondo community, famous from the 1930s until the 50s and 60s for being the center of Black culture in the Twin Cities, was split down the middle for I-94, a straight shot from downtown St. Paul to Minneapolis, displacing thousands of Black people and shattering a close-knit neighborhood.

The police system in America first arrived in the North, but in the South there were slave patrols, which would lynch and capture Black people, often for the most mundane of reasons such as "he was acting friendly with a white woman", which would continue well into the 1960s via Jim Crow laws. These patrols would find any reason they could to kill former slaves, largely out of bitterness for losing their "property". Unsurprisingly, these patrols always worked to bring escaping slaves back to their rich white owners. It may not seem like it to some, but if you pay attention to the reasons and circumstances of police brutality against Black people, not much has changed. Philando Castile was shot multiple times in his car despite calmly telling the officer multiple times that he was reaching for his wallet, not his gun. Eric Garner was selling cigarettes on the street and the cop who killed him used an illegal chokehold to control him until he suffocated. Mike Brown was shot 150 feet away from the cop's vehicle, and the cop in question had no idea he was a suspect in what a bystander mistakenly believed was a robbery.

There's another piece of entertainment I'd like to focus on: the movie Ride Along. In Ride Along, Kevin Hart's character is interested in Ice Cube's sister as well as becoming a cop himself, so he joins Ice Cube on a ride along to see what it's like to be a cop. Several incidents arise where Ice Cube deescalates a situation, but it's later revealed that all these situations were fabricated by Ice Cube and his coworkers. These situations caused a lot of stress and even property damage for the citizens around them, yet in the precinct the cops act like they didn't do anything wrong. This, the existence of "qualified immunity" for police officers, and the fact that cops aren't actually legally required to protect citizens or even know the laws they're enforcing, provide support for the idea that as far as cops are concerned, they can do whatever they want because as enforcers of the law they're above it. That is bullshit. As enforcers of the law, cops need to not only know what they're enforcing, but live better than the law since, as enforcers, people are going to be much more critical of cops breaking the law than non-cop citizens breaking the law.

It's legalized abuse of authority when cops aren't held accountable for assaulting, gassing, and pepper spraying citizens who are taking a stand against police brutality. It's legalized abuse of authority when cops bring riot gear to where there is no riot. It's legalized abuse of authority to place undercover cops wearing the same color armband in peaceful protests in order to stir things up so they have an excuse to escalate things further. It's legalized abuse of authority to fire rubber bullets, which are supposed to be bounced off the ground to disperse unruly crowds, directly into the faces of peaceful protesters.

It's legalized abuse of authority, it's hypocrisy, and it is FUCKING. BULLSHIT. that it still happens and people don't know or don't care how wrong that is.

#police brutality #systemic racism #george floyd #black lives matter #fuck the police

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wainwrightjakobshammerlock · 4 years

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finally. i decided to do this. anyways hello there, i am jake and today i want to talk about something; you see, if you are in the tf2 fandom, you probably know about heavymedic. Wherther you are a hardcore gamer who resents f2p’s or a person that never played the game but has trillions of notes on their art- you know heavymedic exists and most of all you probably ship it.

And I find that weird. In the few fandoms in my life I have been in I had never seen a single ship be so widely if not shipped, then accepted. Sure, maybe everyone in the GF fandom knows what Billdip is - for better or for worse. Sure, maybe the HS fandom is 70% shipping.

But I have never ever seen such a phenomenon in a prominent multiplayer game fandom. A fandom, sadly, oftentimes filled with toxicity. Overwatch is very similar here - yet ships are either a hot topic of discussion or straight up ignored. But TF2? In here for whatever reason we ship these two mercenaries. And in this essay I will try and find a reason or two why is that.

Apologies for any mistakes or incoherency. English is not my first language, I need to ramble, and my vocabulary is all over the place.

Content warning: mentions of homophobia, blood, death, mentions of WLW fetishization, nsfw mention. Also MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR THE TF2 COMICS.

Part 1: Canonical Evidence and Interactions

Let’s be honest: I could ramble about this one for days on end. But I’ll try and keep it short.

First and foremost we have the official videos. And of course the first thing that comes to mind is Meet the Medic.

At the very start of the part where Medic himself appears, we see him telling a joke about a particularly gruesome situation to Heavy.

He laughs along with him, visibly enjoying his company. He even smiles as he waits for another joke. Heavy only shows genuine fear a lot later.

And of course this damn scene always cracks me up. Medic slightly pinches Heavy’s cheek and strokes his lip gently (the other part is almost not noticeable unless you play the video at slow speed).

Of course we all know about the Hand Hold that happens somewhere halfway in the vid. I don’t think I have to explain the gayness in that. The fact their hands stay interlocked even after Medic helps Heavy up. The deep breath Medic takes because even he cannot handle the emotions. That few seconds is unresolved sexual tension manifest.

Overall the short shows a strong feeling of trust between these two. Medic confides in Heavy and reverse. Yeah he puts a baboon heart into his friend’s chest cavity but the fact (as proven at the end of the video) that Heavy was the first one to have an Ubercharge implanted into him shows that Medic at the very least considers him a lab rat.

I treat End of the Line as non-canonical, as do many others, and as such won’t discuss it here. But it will forever crack me up that Valve endorsed such levels of homoerotic subtext.

These two have some short moments in other videos, like for example in Invasion Heavy helps Medic up (CINEMATIC PARALLELS) but it’s nothing major so I guess I’ll skip forward.

Second is their interactions ingame. You might call me a weirdo for trying to find stuff in there but holy shit I have things to say and I’m going to say them.

You thought I was going to fanboy over the “i love this doktor” voiceline huh? Well not really. I wish these two had unique lines if they assist one another.

Heavy is literally listed on the official wiki as the “ideal medic buddy” and multiple pages on that exact wiki say some pretty interesting things.

I have to say something about the Gentleman’s Ushanka and/or Pocket Medic. They are both community cosmetics - but the fact they both got accepted by Valve says a lot. Above is text snipped from the actual wiki.

Last but not least: The Comics. Darned comics. The pair of mercenaries has basically no interaction - unless you count issue 6.

Heavy getting absolutely PISSED when Medic is killed by Ch*avy. Their reunion. Medic referring to Heavy by “my friend” in a totally straight way. Kind of sad Valve wasted an opportunity for them to hug. Maybe they knew their comic artist ships them and wanted to avoid having to answer the Question™.

Part 2: Dynamics

This part’s a bit trickier, mostly due to the reason that I’m new to this whole dynamic analysis thing. Yeah I’m good at spotting canonical evidence but very specific shipping dynamics often escape my gaze.

The most obvious one is Big Guy, Little Guy. Quoting the TVTROPES page:

[…] This trope describes a pair of guys who always fight together, are best friends forever, and quite often have a very obvious hierarchy: The little guy is often in charge […] The little guy is usually listed first, since he’s the leader, and they are always listed together, as if they are one entity. In fact, some episodes may center on the fact that they can’t live without each other. […] If this is a case of Brains and Brawn, the Big Guy is usually the Brawn, and the Little Guy the Brains. It’s almost never the other way around, but in some cases the Big Guy can be rather smart too. […]

A sub-type of this, a common favorite here on Tumblr is known as “small chaotic big calm” and hoo boy if that isn’t these two. I don’t really have much to say here - again I am not an expert.

Part 3: Fandom Impact

So you don’t think Red Oktoberfest (as Heavymedic is sometimes called) is super popular on anywhere else than Tumblr? Wrong.

It’s hard to find TF2 fics on Archive of Our Own not tagged with Heavy/Medic. Of course most of them only contain hints to their relationship but go in the main tf2 tag and I can guarantee you, you’ll gonna see “implied heavy/medic” all the time.

But these two go further than AO3 or Tumblr or Instagram or whatever. They are recognized even within the wider circle of the fanbase. Take this SFM, for example. (I am using the Saxxy Awards version of Secret Lives here mostly due to the fact that the Heavymedic moment is much gayer. In the normal version, the dialogue isn’t changed, but they simply hold hands.)

youtube

But it gets deeper. (WARNING: THE GAY MOMENT IN THIS ONE IS NSFW. NOT EXPLICITLY SO BUT JUST A HEADS UP TUMBLR PLEASE DO NOT FLAG ME)

youtube

And the best part? The comments are extremely positive. You’d expect hoards upon hoards of homophobes screeching but no, the comments are supportive. Even on places such as Reddit or Youtube, comments like “yeah they’re gay and in love” do not get downvoted/disliked to hell; in fact the opposite.

Part 4: Canon Status

Let’s be real. Most ships are shipped because people want to explore the dynamics in fanfic, fanart or something else. But Heavymedic is shipped because… well, I have no idea.

Actually, I kind of do - but only theories. You see, while the canonical evidence is here, the creators have never said anything about them. No confirmation, no disproval, no hinting, nothing.

But the ship is so prominent! There has to be something causing this!- you say. And to that I present you 2 theories on why Heavy/Medic is so popular.

Theory number 1 states that we simply all choose to interpret their interactions as homoerotic. And this is very easy to disprove - there’s simply no way we just collectively agreed on these matters out of nothing. There has to be something bigger.

And theory 2 states that, well, our interpretation is the desired interpretation. But this is even more ridiculous than theory 1 for a number of reasons. If they are in fact gay, why hasn’t Valve made them canon yet?

A Theoretical Scenario

I am going to ramble big time on this one, so buckle up lads. I’ll discuss a theoretical scenario in which, well, if that was not obvious, Valve confirms Heavymedic as canon. Maybe then we will see why they will probably never do so.

TF2 is considered by typical capital G, alt-right Gamers as a “non-political” game. This means no women (in the game itself, at least, and if even, sexy women only), no queer folk and no minorities (for some reason they accept Demoman but throw a fit if someone draws any other merc as not being pearl white). Team Fortress 2 was around before Gamergate and other things like Gamers Rise Up. It’s a classic and Valve is regarded as the good guy to Epic Game’s bad guy. If Valve did anything to confirm doubts, wherther it be clearing up popular fanon or confirming ships, these people would throw hands. (Although they seemed to ignore when one of the writers confirmed Miss Pauling is a lesbian. Huh.) Even those that don’t play TF2 would come to the aid of their bros.

Let me illustrate with two very similar examples. In both cases these confirmations were the first made by the company as a whole, both are fairly recent and both confirm a character as gay.

First we have the confirmation of Tracer from Overwatch as a lesbian. It was done in one of OVW’s comics. Tracer is the FACE of Overwatch as a whole and while most of the fanbase accepted it (thankfully the Gamers are reluctant to infest ow), some people threw what I can only describe as a hissy fit. At least her girlfriend’s a background character.

Second is Neeko from League of Legends. Unlike Tracer she was added a while before it was confirmed she was gay. LOL is much more toxic and filled with Gamers than OW and holy shit people smeared LOL so much.

Of course these are not accurate to Heavy/Medic. In both of the cases I listed it was girls being wlw and we all know how much cisgender heterosexual gamers LOVE yuri porn. Apparently only girls can be gay because they can jack off to it - if it’s two guys then it’s disgusting. Nevertheless I think these are good approximations - in every case the company gets “shat on” on social media and other sites. With the community that Valve has, I think even if they wanted them to be gay, they would never ever confirm it.

Conclusion

I’m sorry for that ending. I had to theorize a bit. Regardless I’d love if you shared this on other sites, reblogged or whatever - I wasted at least 1 and a half hours of my life on it. Feel free to cite this as a source if someone asks you why you ship the big heavy weapons expert and the feral battle medic.

#my post #text post #tf2 #medic #heavy #heavymedic #long post

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drrrsecretsanta2019 · 4 years

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Holiday Kiss, my secret santa gift for Bree

Tucked away in a dark spot between two kiosks, Shizuo checks the notes and coins in his hand trying to figure out how many rides they can get him into. He’s left most of the money his mother gave him earlier this afternoon with his little brother; it seemed only fair given that he had gone to the fair with the intention of abandoning him. Kasuka will be fine, he knows, and that reassuring thought keeps him from feeling too guilty about intentionally lagging behind until the rest of the company, composed of his little brother and their cousins, had lost him completely. The chances are they will only look for him when their time of departure approaches. Kasuka is bright enough to guess that his older brother has disappeared on purpose and their cousins are unlikely to lament the loss of his company, except perhaps when an opportunity to mock him comes up and he’s nowhere to be seen, depriving them of the vicious pleasure of watching him seethe, unable to do anything to vent his frustration. Despite him thinking that he is entirely incapable of self-control, Shizuo has proven to his mother on countless occasions that he can restrain himself in order to not embarrass her or hurt her feelings. She has never told her son, but she often wishes the world was more understanding, less cruel towards her sweet older boy who can be the most loving young man if given the opportunity but can just as easily explode in rage if faced with injustice. What she has told him is that people are often cruel by defense, to hide their insecurities, and that deep down everyone is flawed and scared, and he tries his best to always remember it.

He’s still struggling with the simple maths of how many rides the amount in his possession translates into when he catches a voice that has adrenaline coursing through his veins and drowning away any hints of coherency. He snaps his head to the direction of said voice, already seeing red, but stumbles upon confusion as he’s faced with a rather unexpected image and it’s only then that he registers the words he’s hearing.

“Now, you will both stay close – no running away on a whim, Mairu! If you’re not holding my hand, I want you to be maximum two steps ahead of me.”

“Izaya-kun?”

This is perhaps the calmest he has ever sounded with that name on his tongue. Izaya must recognize his voice just as easily, because he freezes immediately, going completely still for a moment as he’s hunched over. Then he whips around to face Shizuo while simultaneously stretching his hands out a bit on his sides, as if to protect the small figures behind him from the beast before them.

“Sh-shizu-chan?” he stutters, his face a pale white devoid of any emotion other than apprehension. “I am here with my sisters” he adds quickly, clearly in an attempt to deter Shizuo from causing a scene and oblivious to the fact that Shizuo himself has no such intention.

“I can see that”, he says instead, a bright smile on his face as he sends a friendly nod to the two faces obscured be Izaya’s outstretched arms. “Hello” he adds as he ducks to get a better look. The girls peer at the stranger behind the barrier of their brother, gazes inquisitive and perceptive, one closed-off and the other mischievous. It’s the mischievous one who steps forward first, ignoring her brother’s attempt to keep her hidden by shifting his weight.

“Are you friends with Iza-nii?”

There’s a short pause, during which the other girl also steps forward, with a look on her face that reminds Shizuo a little of his brother, until he finally shrugs and replies lightly “we have some common friends”. It’s not a lie, but it’s not exactly the answer to the question posed either. But the girls seem content anyway, the one with mischief clear in her eyes nodding enthusiastically and greeting him with a joyful hi as the other one simply blinks.

“We’re here to kill a couple of hours. The fair is big enough to fit us both, so let’s just steer clear of each other and call it a ceasefire for New Year’s Eve.”

Izaya sounds composed, but the look on his face is too rigid to be anything but anxious. The similarity between the three siblings is uncanny. Shizuo knows from Shinra that Izaya’s sisters are identical twins, but he didn’t expect them to also look so much like their brother. Especially the one with braided long hair could be a spitting image of him when he was her age.

“That’s fine” he says, his eyes still on the tiny girls gazing up at him. “I’m also just killing some time.”

“On your own? Can’t you find even a single person to put up with you during the holidays?” Izaya scoffs, some of the customary hostility they share having returned to his posture. Shizuo chooses to ignore it and explains calmly that he’s lost his company and before he’s finished speaking he has two Orihara girls clinging to his legs.

“You can come with us!” the talkative one exclaims as her sister joins her in a chorus for the last two words.

“I’m sure he has better things to do”, Izaya provides, arms crossed in front of his chest, but Shizuo is fast to disprove him.

“I don’t, actually.” He watches Izaya’s eyes widen comically before turning to the little girls still clinging onto him. “I’d love to tag along, if your brother’s ok with that.” It’s cheap of him, he knows. Izaya would probably agree to jumping off the roof to save himself from his sisters’ wailing. But he’ll take what he can.

Unsurprisingly, Izaya is broody for the first several minutes of their joint wandering. The girls are overexcited with the unexpected addition of a new member to their company and with the variety of options around them, bouncing eagerly from one side to the other, arguing between themselves about which rides they should go to and what sweets they should buy from the kiosks, while Izaya follows them closely, sulking in a very uncharacteristic manner. Shizuo manages to extract the names of the girls from him – Mairu, the one with the braid, and Kururi, the quiet one – and their age – 6. Shizuo watches him from the corner of his eye, walking beside him with his shoulders tense and his jaw set, as if ready for a fight. He’s never been blind to Izaya’s good looks, but it’s always been easy to look past them and focus on his annoying antics instead. But out here, in the middle of a crowded fair, with Christmas lights casting golden and crimson hues along Izaya’s pale face, it’s hard to think of anything else. With Izaya on the defensive there are no biting comments, no sarcastic smirks, only a handsome boy walking next to him, quietly watching his sisters ahead of him. It’s endearing really.

“Your sisters are fun.” Izaya tenses next to him, but keeps quiet. “I have never seen you with them before.”

“Do you spend your free time stalking me, Shizu-chan?”

Deep down everyone is flawed and scared, he repeats his mother’s words to himself and chuckles. “I just mean that I could never picture you this way. I have a little brother myself-”

“I know”, Izaya cuts him off with cold indifference, as if this brief exchange has managed to bore him already. “How come he’s not tailing you? Does your mother not force you to take him along with you everywhere?”

It sounds like a typical, if somewhat petty, older brother complaint and Shizuo finds himself feeling amused. “He’s somewhere around here with our cousins.”

When Izaya turns to look straight at him, Shizuo feels as if the world has momentarily stopped turning. His eyes look unnaturally bright as they reflect the neon signs around them and the way he stares openly at Shizuo’s face, it’s as if he’s reaching into his mind and caressing every thought of his. “Not a very good company, I guess?” He’s shrugging before Shizuo has had the chance to offer a reply, turning away to follow his sisters to one of the kiosks selling soft ice, scoffing family is overrated over his shoulder and the moment Shizuo thinks they shared is gone just like that.

Between arguing about which rides are best suited for the twins’ age and munching on jelly beans and soft ice and chocolate bars and pretty much anything sugar-loaded available, they end up not going to that many rides after all. They agree on the least exciting-looking roller coaster, one that is clearly destined for the younger ages, and Mairu is practically furious about said choice, as if this specific roller coaster constitutes a personal insult for her. But it’s the only one her brother will allow her on and she’s been bugging them about getting on a roller coaster since the moment they arrived, so she gives in eventually. Shizuo sits with Kururi behind Izaya who is vainly trying to restrain Mairu next to him. It’s not that bad, after all. Kururi has a wide grin on her face throughout the ride while Mairu squeals incessantly, throwing her arms in the air and howling like a wolf, but it’s Izaya’s crystalline laughter that echoes in Shizuo’s ears even after they’ve climbed out of their seats and moved on to buy tickets to the Ferris wheel. Mairu climbs in with Shizuo this time and gives him multiple heart attacks by swinging her legs non-stop, making their car rock precariously from side to side. They get the girls on the carousel afterwards, standing by next to each other and watching them ride on their fake horses with huge grins on their faces.

“You could have gotten on the more exciting rides on your own” Izaya says at some point, but there’s no mocking lilt in his voice, no malice, just a matter-of-fact statement. “You would have probably had more fun.”

“Nah. I’m having a good time as it is.”

The girls come running shortly after and they’re off to find the next ride to spend their money on, but Izaya’s gaze lingers on Shizuo as they move on.

As they’re passing by the shooting games, Mairu suddenly starts jumping up and down, her little arm extended in the air and pointing at something. “Iza-nii, I want THAT!” she’s shrieking within seconds, grabbing her brother’s pants and pulling him towards one of the games. There’s a metallic headband with deer ears and antlers hanging along with an assortment of plushies and hats at the back, which serve as prizes for those who manage to shoot down a number of targets. “They’re so beautiful!” she croons and Shizuo can see why. The antlers are long and thin, painted rose gold. The ears are fluffy, made of a combination of felt and faux fur, and sprinkled with stardust. The top of the headband is decorated with small silk flowers, of different sizes and colors. It’s certainly cheap and flimsy, as all carnival prizes tend to be, but it still looks like someone put great care into making it.

“Elf” Kururi mutters, joining her sister in front of the kiosk and pointing at an elf hat, complete with pointy ears, just a bit to the right of the deer headband.

Izaya sighs, exasperated with his sisters’ antics, but asks how much it costs to try his luck anyway. When the clearly bored employee hands him a shotgun, Izaya turns to extend it to Shizuo. “Come on, Shizu-chan, show us what you’ve got.”

Needless to say, Shizuo fails miserably. He manages to shoot down one target and is a second away from splitting the toy gun in half by the time he runs out of bullets. The twins are close to tears from disappointment, but Izaya looks sorely amused. He pays for another round, places the gun against his shoulder, takes aim and keeps entirely still for a second, before pulling the trigger and missing the first target by a hair. He remains calm and still despite the disappointed sounds his sisters make. He adjusts his position quietly, not losing his concentration, takes a deep breath and holds it before pulling the trigger and shooting down the first target. The twins scream with excitement and start jumping up and down excitedly, while Shizuo whistles his approval. Izaya ignores their reactions completely and continues in the same pace until he’s shot down all targets and won the headband for Mairu and then reluctantly pays for another round to win Kururi’s elf hat as well.

“You’re really good!” Shizuo exclaims when Izaya turns around to join them, handing over Kururi’s prize.

“And you’re predictably terrible” is what Izaya offers in reply, but his mood is clearly lighter than before as he basks in the awe-stricken stares of the crowd that has gathered to watch him shoot one target after the other.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

“Didn’t you know? When I’m not wrecking Raijin with you, I’m a hitman for the yakuza.”

Despite his tone dripping with sarcasm, Shizuo has the sinking feeling that it wouldn’t be too farfetched for Izaya. It must show on his face because Izaya laughs at him like a madman.

Half an hour later, they’re sitting at a picnic bench facing each other, watching the girls run around with other kids not far from them. A comfortable silence has descended between them and Shizuo thinks to himself that Izaya is almost nice to be around when he’s not actively trying to piss him off. He lets his gaze wander to the boy sitting opposite him, studying his profile as the other is busy watching his sisters with a look that resembles affection too closely to look anything but foreign on him.

“This was nice.”

Izaya doesn’t refute this, but he keeps silent long enough to get Shizuo worried. His gaze is still following his sisters although his attention has clearly shifted. He drums his fingers on the table between them and hums skepticism in the back of his throat. “And it’s back to normal after the holidays, right?” He only cuts his gaze to Shizuo when his question goes unanswered and coming face to face with confusion he continues “Me pissing you off, you trying to kill me. Life at Raijin as we know it.”

Izaya’s features are set in hard resolve and his expression feels out of place in their current setting. He looks almost upset and Shizuo is shaking his head rendered weak with uncertainty. “It doesn’t have to be.”

Izaya’s jaw tenses, he averts his gaze to stare at the surface of the table instead, pressing his lips tight together as if to keep himself from saying something he’ll regret. Shizuo thinks he should say something, but as he opens his mouth, still uncertain of what’s going to come out of it, Izaya’s cell phone starts ringing and the moment is gone. As Izaya checks the screen for the caller’s identity and grimaces irritation, the twins arrive running at the table chanting a chorus of mom.

“Hello? Yes, hi mother” Izaya speaks into the receiver rolling his eyes and swatting his sisters’ hands away from him and the device. “Have you just landed? Alright, we’ll see you at home then.” The girls have fisted their little hands in his coat and are trying to pull him away from the table even before he’s hung up, Kururi murmuring late while Mairu alternates between shrieking with joy and berating her brother for not taking them home earlier. “They have just landed at the airport. They are still waiting for their luggage and they need at least an hour to get home from there, so stop dragging me!” They let go of him eventually, but they stay hovering by the table, eager to leave asap, so Izaya stands begrudgingly. “I guess it’s time we left, Shizu-chan.”

“It was nice meeting you, girls” Shizuo says as he gets up and then squats to be at the same level with the twins, trying his best to conceal his disappointment at having this evening cut short. He finds it easier than he originally thought as the twins throw themselves at him, hugging him tightly and wishing him a happy new year. Mairu goes on to heatedly explain that their parents are coming back for the New Year celebrations and they have to rush back home to welcome them and Shizuo can’t help but smile goofily at her excitement. Kururi just looks up at him and takes the hat off her head to place it on his. Present is all she says, but her eyes make it clear that she will not take no for an answer, so Shizuo thanks her and leaves the hat on. He hears Izaya chuckling above him, but Mairu is jumping on the table next thing he knows and when he looks up, Izaya has the deer antlers propped on his head, looking surprised and adorable. It’s Shizuo’s turn to chuckle, but as Izaya’s eyes narrow with irritation he states “you look cute” and watches color rise in the other’s face.

“If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.” Shizuo takes it for the empty threat it is and just smiles.

“Leave it on, it suits you” and he takes a step forward, effectively stepping into Izaya’s personal space, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. Izaya starts, shocked at the close proximity and clearly not knowing what to expect, and the kiss lands not exactly on his cheek, but at the corner of his lips, leaving the both of them embarrassed as the girls stare at them with matching devilish grins. “Happy New Year”, Shizuo blurts before turning to leave, to go find his brother and cousins so they can all leave together, the image of Izaya looking literally like a deer caught in the headlights imprinted on his memory.

DRRRSecretSanta2019: A lovely fic for @breedafool by Astroenergy! Thank you so much for participating!!

#submission #fanfic #long post

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solesurvivorkat · 5 years

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FAR CRY 5 WEEK, DAY 1: HOPE COUNTY

...Short little blurb I wrote for FC5 Week, Day 1. Hasn't been thoroughly edited due to a severe lack of time, so my apologies for any shortcomings in my writing!

Day 1 (Sept. 22): Hope County

(The Angel’s Grave/Horned Serpent Cave)

“You’re thinking about her again.” A statement, more than a question.

“Do you honestly expect me not to?”

“...It wasn’t your fault.”

“Doesn’t make me feel better.”

~~~~~~~

They'd climbed the stone steps, only to be greeted by a metal barred, jail-like door at the cave entrance (which, of course, had been locked). So much for that. Time being a factor, their best best had been to grapple up to the top of the rocks and hope that there was another way inside.

Following the trail after reaching the top, they'd been careful to avoid detection by the Project truck that casually drove past. It was imperative that John not be seen in the Henbane River area, after all... especially since he was uninvited, sneaking around, and with the Deputy 'that started it all' to boot. Needless to say, it certainly wouldn't have looked good. He was already on somewhat-thin ice with Joseph, and he was sure his 'dear, sweet sister' would've just loved an opportunity to knock John down a peg and further ingratiate herself into Joseph's good graces.

His jaw tightened, back teeth grinding together a bit. 'The things I do for.....'

'...For what??' a voice in his head snapped back. He inhaled sharply through his nostrils, still not quite sure how to answer that.

"You can still turn around and head back. Remember, I was going to do this without you. I'll understand."

Her voice grabbed his attention and he glanced over at her, almost irritated by the softness in her tone, the look of understanding and perhaps even sympathy in her expression.

"You're doing this for one of my followers," he countered, "even knowing the risks involved. I... admire your compassion. And besides - I can talk my way out of this, if need be. If you were to attempt this without me and fail... well... let's just say it would be tough to determine which would be worse for you - dying because of the cave, or your fate being left in Faith's hands."

The small shudder that rippled through her was not lost on him, and he cast one last look around before moving around the boulder they'd ducked behind for cover.

~~~~~~~

Fucking Nancy. She got everyone in the Sheriff's department to trust her, see her as one of their own, and betrayed them all to Joseph when they needed her the most. Had she lost any sleep that night, knowing that she could've been an accomplice in people's deaths - people that she'd worked beside for several months before Sarah had even arrived there? Did it bother her in the slightest that every single person in that helicopter (except for Joseph) could've been laying there, still strapped to their leather seats, slowly roasting in the helicopter's flames?

When Peter's mother Rebecca had approached Sarah, asked her to disprove some disturbing rumors she'd heard from people in Faith's region, expressed concern for a woman she considered a friend, Sarah had wanted to tell her just what she thought of the idea. But seeing the expression on the woman's face - the worry, the uncertainty, the desperation for someone to help her... Sarah just couldn't turn her down. And when John had weaseled the mission out of her (damn that silver tongue of his) and insisted on accompanying her... well... it had been an odd day so far, at any rate.

She was kind of used to searching for prepper stashes in the odd location, some that were quite dangerous (she still needed to clobber Sharky for the one that had her shaking like a leaf as she tried not to fall off of a log several hundred feet above the ground)... but avoiding toxic water in Horned Serpent Cave with a Herald she couldn't quite define her relationship with - that was a new one.

At least he'd forewarned her of what to expect from the inner conditions of the cave, from the very little he'd heard about it in passing during one of the Seeds' group conversations. What he hadn't mentioned to her - and judging from his reaction (which was very subtle, but there), he hadn't known about it himself - was the view that awaited them in the crevasse leading down to the alternate cave entrance.

Dead angels. Skeletons. Random bones, all scattered like some kind of macabre confetti at the bottom of the crevasse. It had knocked the wind out Sarah for a minute or two... however long it had been, until she felt John's firm hand upon her shoulder.

"...Sarah-"

"I'm fine," she clipped back a little too quickly, not turning her head to meet his eyes. "Let's just hurry up and do what we came here to do so we can get the hell out of here."

Without waiting for a response or looking back at him, she quickly lowered herself down towards the mouth of the cavern, determined to get through this as fast as she possibly could. It would've been... mildly easier (maybe) if there'd only been a couple bodies lying around - but upon first glance, there were definitely at least six angel corpses left to rot in the open air. The stench of putrefying flesh was almost too much for her, and once her feet were on solid rock she closed her eyes, teeth clenching as she fought to ground herself.

'Just do it. Check the faces, see if she's here, then get the fuck out.'

Taking a deep breath (and working hard not to gag it back out), her eyes quickly surveyed the angels in front of her. Several pairs of soulless, empty eyes stared back into nothingness. It certainly didn't help that each scalp had been shaved clean, surgical masks covering their mouths, all of them in the same dirty cream-colored Peggie outfit. Some men, some women, some older-looking... God...

The first two people she gave a once-over to were men, and the third was a woman with a different body type... the former dispatch had had a slightly heavier build.

Sarah was beginning to feel an odd, small sense of relief that she may not find what she was looking for here (mixed with a bit of pity for the other people that hadn't been as fortunate), but something caught her eye - a glint of silver to her left. Usually angels weren't permitted to keep any jewelry or small artifacts upon them, but... Faith's followers might have overlooked the simple silver band that sat upon the ring finger of the woman's body Sarah stepped towards - perhaps in their haste to quickly dispose of another failed angel.

As she stared down at the woman that was almost identical to the other dead around her, she became aware of John's approaching bootsteps behind her. Neither said anything for what felt like the longest, stillest of moments.

"...So."

".....Yeah."

A slow intake of breath.

"Sarah... we need to get going. I'm... sorry. We don't have much time before another supply truck is sure to come passing by. If we're spotted-'

"Yeah." A beat. "I know."

Sarah felt a firm hand upon her shoulder again and gritted her teeth. "John... I need you to promise me something." She whirled around to finally face him, his brows raising a bit at whatever expression she was showing him. "Don't let me end up this way," she demanded. "If I finally piss one too many people off and Joseph demands me dead, I'd rather you get to me first. Just... make it quick. Don't let me become an angel. And if it happens anyway - don't let me hurt the people I care about. Just finish me and be done with it... okay? Please?"

John opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. She didn't wait for a further answer, instead stepping past him to climb back up and out of the crevasse, not looking back at the angels once she reached the top.

'...Fuckin' Nancy... just look where your 'loyalty', your devotion to your 'Father' got you...'

#far cry 5 #my far cry 5 oc #far cry 5 oc #my fc5 oc #fc5 #the book of john #john seed/female deputy #john seed #sarah rook #deputy sarah rook #deputy rook #fuckin nancy #far cry 5 week #far cry 5 week 2019 #fc5week #fc5week2019 #fc5 week #fc5 week 2019

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