#listen. 2021 when i got into beyond evil.

[katierosefun]

shin ha kyun playing another meow meow man in october . . . i gotta be normal (i will be even more insane than before)

#caroline talks #listen. 2021 when i got into beyond evil. #me gripping evilive by the throat: listen. u better make me hot for liking u. #the way i'm giggling twirling my hair #shin ha kyun chose this role FOR ME actually #pathetic little meow meow lawyer who's gonna turn into a raging little mastermind i just KNOW IT!!! I JUST KNOW IT!!! #GO CRAZY GO STUPID LIL' GUY!!!

[glux2]

Musing: Emotional connection

Recently a very close person to me suggested i binge watch "Angel Hare", before that day my only exposure to that project was a fan game that had a very funny punchline in lampooning the "cursed videogame" genre.

So i watched the whole thing and it was great.

This scene right here made me feel more feelings than most of the media i have watched/played/read in like the last 5 years or so.

So it made my mind wonder, like, "hold on, when was the last time i felt this strongly about a piece of entertainment?"

Sure, if you know me, i felt strongly about the ongoing plotline for Noelle on Deltarune, so one would think "2021 when chapter two came out", right? but no, i got very invested but it wasn't it.

The last time i felt so strongly about a piece of media was actually Deltarune's predecesor, Undertale in 2015.

I finished Undertale in tears, i got in a very bad funk when i found out about the genocide ending, it truly made me feel emotions.

So i began to ponder, just what really moves me?

Full disclosure: I don't cry at movies. This is not a "look at me i am a badass who is not beheld by feelings" statement, no, i kinda just dont connect emotionally with movies as easily as other people.

I have talked about this, many times actually, Toy Story 3 did not make me cry, it always bothers me how people at the time were like "if TS3 didn't make you cry, you have no soul" and shit like that, so let me repeat something i have said many times before:

Toy Story 3 was a movie i went to see the day doctors had informed me my mother had entered terminal phase of cancer.

My friends took me to see TS3 when i felt the greatest sadness i have ever felt in my entire life. And im glad TS3 was a pretty funny movie that managed to distract me from what i was going through. TS3 uplifted me when i had a very real reason to cry.

So what im getting at is, i rarely connect emotionally with what conventionally makes people emotionally connected, not that i havent felt strong emotions from movies, but as we'll get to later, it's just not the stuff you would expect, when we get back to movies you'll be thinking, "what the fuck, Toy story 3 did not make you emotional but THIS THING DID?!"

So, if traditional "emotional things" rarely have moved me i began to think to myself, "what are things that have made me feel this strongly?"

I realized it's the damn weirdest things.

I'll try to list things that i can remember making me feel this emotional.

Now i'll be upfront, im not a very cultured person, so you'll notice most of this is...not very high brow.

Also, obviously spoilers for all this stuff im about to talk about.

Before we begin: Honorable mention goes to me finding out i had repressed memories of being traumatized as a kid by being show an animated adaptation of "Pilgrim's progress" by an aunt, which disturbed me greatly towards the end as the main character dies and before it the souls of two people he met are condemned to eternal damnation from making MISTAKES, not sins, not evil, but THE FUCKING MISTAKE of exploring alternate routes before them.

-Yoshi's Island, 1994 When i was a wee one Yoshi was one of my fave videogame characters, so of course i was beyond hype when a game where you play as yoshi came out, the ending is one of the greatest moments in videogame history, the beautiful music, the journey of the stork, and finally the classic Mario fan fare playing as baby mario and baby luigi being held by their parents with the words "Heroes are born", it's such a powerful moment. To this day i still cannot listen to that credits music without tearing up.

Sequel? Retcon?! I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT, SHUT UP, THIS IS THE PERFECT ENDING AND NOTHING ELSE HAPPENED AFTER IT!

-The bicentennial man, 1999 The bicentennial man is one of the biggest examples of a movie being fucking mischaracterized in the marketing, this movie is based on Isaac Asimov's short story and later novel, it stars Robin Williams, so all marketing was presenting the movie as Robin Williams comedy movie, IT. IS. NOT. The bicentennial man is a scifi drama about the existential search for meaning and the nature of what truly is to be alive. You get invested on the quest of this robot trying to find humanity for 200 years, and the punchline to this movie is, in his quest for humanity he forgoes the immortality being a machine provides him as he had developed the way to turn himself biological, still artificial but biological, and he dies peacefully on his sleep before he can be told that humanity had declared him, legally, a human being. To me it was such a powerful moment, he found true meaning to his life, became human, yet died before knowing so.

-Courage the cowardly dog, "The Mask", 2002 This is a legendary episode of an already great show that has a lot of very good emotional moments, some may cite episodes like "the giving tree" or "the last star maker", but for me it's this one. For those who have never experienced this episode, it revolves around a cat girl named Kitty who one day shows up at Courage's farm and she's wearing an upsetting mask, she abuses courage because she believes all dogs are bad. The mask serves 2 purposes, one is metaphorical, "her inability to face reality", the second is to hide her identity as she believes she is in danger. The thing is, she is on the run because her lover best friend Bunny is trapped in an abusive relationship with a gangster dog who threatened to kill her if she was seen near Bunny ever again, the episode coats the whole situation with a ton of goofiness, but it's actually very fucking dark: A young lesbian is trapped against her will on an abusive relationship with a toxic, violent man who threatened to kill her girlfriend if she refused to date him. Courage, being a good little dog ventures to save Bunny and have her reunite with Kitty because, despite how bad Kitty was to him, he recognizes that Kitty is a victim and she and Bunny deserve better, leading to Courage letting them escape away together, to live happy and free. I don't think it's just me, but the final image of Kitty and Bunny hugging as the train takes them to freedom felt so powerful to me.

-Twisted Metal Head-on, 2002 This is one of the weirdest things i have ever gotten emotionally invested, but honestly? i love when some shitposting franchise suddenly manages to pull this off, specially given the set up for this whole thing im going to describe starts in an early game as a fucking joke. So to contextualize this, the first two Twisted metal games were helmed by the og creators of the franchise, TM 3, 4 and small brawl were made by different developers when the creators lost the rights, but during the PS2 era when the og developers came back and created TM: Black, and TM: Head-on, Black was a reboot, Head-on was a retcon sequel to TM 2 that eliminated TM3 from the timeline, but not TM 4. Still with me? Okay so TM2 had this character, Krista Sparks, who was the revealed to be the daughter of the main antagonist of the game, Calypso, but hold on? wasn't Calypso's backstory that his family died in a tragic accident which lead him to become evil? So turns out, the FBI retrieved his daughter's corpse, turned it into a robot with a bomb with the intend to make her get close to Calypso and blow him up. The ending ends comically with a message reading "The FBI wishes to thank you for putting an end to Twisted metal". Stil Still with me?!?!?! ok! so Head on! In this game Krista is back, as a ghost, her ending consists on her confronting her dad, who has now brought up so much pain, misery and death to the world, Calypso tries to explain that the nature of his powers mean he has to do this otherwise he cannot use his powers, and his plan was for Krista to win so he could bring her back and her mom to life, but Krista is so horrified with what has happened that she refuses and blurts "I wish the accident that killed me and mom never happened" the intention being impeding Calypso from becoming this evil super natural villian, but as per all endings, it's always a monkey paw affair and Calypso knows it, looking saddened he grants the wish because he has no option, his powers force him to. Briefly Krista has a vision of her childhood with her dad before he became evil as they share a sweet moment playing on a swing set. HARD CUT TO A HOSPITAL, Krista is on a bed in coma, Calypso is there and whispers to her something along the lines of "Sleep tight my dear, may you finally find peace", as Calypso is leaving the hospital you can hear 2 doctors talking, mentioning that Krista had been in coma for more than a decade and apparently Calypso just had found out. Excuse me Twisted Metal, but WHAT THE FUCK? You are a dumb fucking edgy car combat game, how dare you make me feel these things?

-Mother 3, 2006 (translation on 2008) Mother 3 hopefully needs no introduction, or maybe it does, because many people have reduced it to a joke due to how nintendo stubbornly refuses to give us an official release, but also many of you must know this franchise is the spark that ignited the flame of the absolute Juggernaut Undertale would become, as well as many other games influenced by it. The Mother/Earthbound games were known for being quirky and deviating from the standard conventions of the game, notably for the modern day setting and unorthodox choices of how you deal with the villians, they were always billed as emotional, but i feel they did not live up to that...until 3. The general narrative to Mother 3 is about how greed is destroying the world, the main villian corrupting what we see of the world (a paradise little town where everybody is nice) by introducing luxury, money and status....and also stomping everything with his fascist army and cyborg mutants. Mother 3 is a game about how the worst traits of humanity are destroying the world and upsetting nature. Mother 3 is also the story of 2 twin brothers who suffer tragedy after tragedy after tragedy that ultimately pits them one against the other with the fate of the world at stake. Mother 3 punches you almost immediately by killing the mother character (which i might mention you're encouraged to name after your own mother) at the end of the first chapter and how this affects her surviving family. one of the Twins, Claus, is so disturbed that he decides to on on his own to try to kill the monster that took his mom, while the other, Lucas, was too afraid and weak to stop his brother, resulting on Claus dying as well...but the badguys take his corpse and reanimate it into a cold, emotionless cyborg who follow's the big bad's order and is using him to try to cause the end of the world. In the climax of the story Lucas is force to confront Claus, clause is a brain washed cyborg, his master is out of the picture and all he can do is fight, you can't reason with him...and then.... Lucas and Claus begin to hear a voice, a familiar voice, it's their mother, reaching for them from beyond the grave, pleading for them to stop fighting, suddenly Lucas and Claus both have a flash back to when they were babies, overhearing their parents talk about the hopes they have for them, the many things they will be able to achieve together, this makes Clause snap out of his brain washing, removing the helmet that had been hiding his face since he was resurrected, Lucas and him have a moment as they are finally reunited, Claus realizes all the bad things he has done while under control of the bad guy and realizes he must atone for his crimes, he prepares a lightning attack he knows cannot hurt Lucas and cause HIM to die. "Im sorry for all the problems i caused" he says as he is dying on his dad's arm, "I must go to where mom is now", as he passes away he can hear his mother calling for him, "You just be so tired" she says. Now i know it will sound insane for people to hear a videogame of all things can make one so emotional, but damn, just recollecting these scenes for this dumb post has made me start to cry, the emotional punch of this scene is very strong, it demolished me when i played the game back in the day, but now? After my own mother passed away? I have been scared of playing this game again. I mot sure if im emotionally prepare to go though that again, even 10+ years later. That's how powerful this scene was to me.

-Elite Beat Agents, 2007 If you have played this game, you know were im going, for those who dont, EBA is a silly rhythm game about secret agent cheer leaders that are dispatched around the world to help people in need by raising their spirit and allow them to overcome adversity, the game is insanely wacky and have scenarios like helping a ninja car salesman prevent a company from stealing his company's secrets, helping a washed up baseball star fight a lava spitting golem rampaging on an amusement park and traveling back in time to help davinci paint the mona lisa. EBA is also the second game in the Ouendan series, and there is something you need to know about this series: They all include tearjerker levels to contrast with all the goofiness. "A christmas Wish" is a christmas themed level set to Chicago's "You are the inspiration" and the story to this level is positively DEVASTATING: A few months before christmas a business man tells his daughter and wife he has to go on a business trip but he promises he'll be back just in time for christmas, the girl asks him to bring back a "girlfriend" for her teddy bear. The father dies on a plane crash. When the mother breaks the news to the little girl she gets angry, crying to the skies that her dad promised he would be back for christmas. The backdrop of the stage is set the girl and the mom doing things to remember the dad, like looking through a photo album and baking a cake for his birthday, it's very sweet, but...this is EBA, if you're doing poorly you see the "bad" versions of these scenes, and in this one, one is very devastating, the little girl is having a dream where she's chasing the spirit of her dad, if you're doing well she calls for him and for a brief moment the dad stops and starts turning towards her, if you're doing bad the spirit fades away and the girl wakes up in tears. Dear goodness. But of course, if you beat the level you get this sequence of the ghost of the dad showing up on chrismas morning to fullfil his promise, giving the little girl the teddy bear he promised and having the chance to say good bye to his family.

This punches you really fucking hard in the gut. I am incapable of doing this level without ending in tears. For a time i could not even listen to this song without tearing up until, i shit you now, the deadpool movie used it on a comedy scene.

-Punch out!!, 2009 This one is one i know got me because of personal nostalgia, when i was a wee one the og NES punch out was a big part of my childhood, Punch Out!! on the wii was a masterfully crafted tribute to the franchise. To not dwell too much time on this, this game has an interesting quirk, the ending is a downer ending and it's the only ending you can get. After you beat the last opponent there is a sequence where Mac and Doc seemingly are having a disagreement, where Mac seemingly has decided that if he loses 3 times, he'll retire from boxing completely. After this you face randomly opponents from the game, the first time you lose in this mode you lose your champion title, after three loses, it's game over and the story mode becomes locked for that save file. The final cutscene is Doc walking through what seems to be a gallery with boxing memorabilia, and untold number of years later, he is alone, he spots his old bike on this gallery and rings the bell, he looks up and speak to an absent Mac, "Good job son, good job", as he leaves the camera pans to reveal he was looking at a framed photo of him and Mac on one of their training sessions. The music on this sequence is so perfect, and it was aimed at people like me, people who grew up with the franchise, the idea was making it feel like Doc was reminiscing of YOUR time with punch out when you were a kid, and to make you think about how far YOU have come since the first time you played the games in an arcade, or your nes, or snes. It's actually pretty effective and it got me.

-Regular Show, "Trucker Hall of Fame", 2012 What makes this one different from others instances of me making me emotional, it's, much like the "Angel Hare" example at the top, this one is all about WARM HAPPY FEELINGS, so for those who did not watch this episode, let me summarize it for you: One day Muscleman gets word that his dad, who was his personal hero, has passed away, and he's tasked with carrying his final wish, spread his [hat's] ashes in a place called "Trucker hall of fame", you see, Muscleman was lead to believe his dad was a legendary trucker and that earned him his admiration, but during the episode Muscleman finds out he was lied to, his dad was a forklift driver that the truckers belittled, altho feeling cheated for having been lied to he carries on with his father's wishes. Now because this is regular show, when they arrive at the trucker's hall of fame they are immediately attacked by ghost trucker for "desecrating the hall of fame" as they spread the ashes something happens: The ghost of Muscleman's dad manifests himself and saves his son, taking the chance to apologize to his son and having the chance to say his final good bye personally. Despite the inherent silliness of the show's premise, i think this episode really did a good job on expressing that sense of catharsis of making peace with the passing of a love one.

-The Final Girls, 2015 A friend suggested we watched this movie, and much like Twisted metal up there, i absolutely did not expect for this incredibly stupid comedy horror movie to hit me with any sort of emotional connection, and yet... The Final Girls opens with the main character in a car with her mom, who is an struggling C-tier actress whose biggest achievement ever was appearing on a Friday the 13th knock off movie, during this sequence they get in an accident where the mom dies and even after it's been some time since the accident the main character has not properly moved on from the passing of her mom. Her friends and some people at the college she attends are preparing this horror movie festival where the main event is they are going to play the movies from the franchise her mom was on, and they suggest she should come. Then some bullshit happens and they all end up somehow trapped in the world of the movie. A quick rundown of the rules of horror movies is explained to them, the monster cannot be defeated by fighting it, it's only the final girl who can defeat the killer, and unfortunately for them they accidentally killed the character that, in the canon of the movie, is the final girl, so they believe one of them has to become the final girl and end the movie to hopefully get out of it. The problem is, the main character is experimenting shock from interacting with her mom's character, she is not taking well to seeing her mom on the flesh and she dedicates the entire movie to "save her mom", in the climax of the movie the mom character begins to understand that she is a fictional character and the nature of her attachment to the main character, understanding that they cannot be both the final girl and if then main character wants to make it back to the real world she has to learn "To let go", choosing to sacrifice herself so there is only one final girl. It's kinda weird, that of all possible premises, this managed to make a "You need to move on" message that somehow managed to resonate with me, you might have figured out by now a running theme here, but, i was really hard for me to deal with my mother's passing even if it's been years since it happened, so it's kinda funny for me to think these are the places i have found comfort from.

-Undertale, 2015 Okay this is tumblr, i already talked about Undertale on the prologue to, whatever the fuck im doing here, you know what undertale is, you know how effective it is, Undertale is really well designed for you to grow emotionally attached to these characters, so being able to see all these characters you know have grown attached to have their happy ending on the pacifist ending does fill one with a very satisfactory warm happy feeling that can move you to tears. ...Or you can be bummed out by being a little greedy gaming bitch and taking a look at the bad ending. Because you just couldn't help yourself, could you?

-Onward, 2020 This movie did not hit me as hard as the most emotional entries on this, but it still got me, because in the end of the day the main motivation of the characters on this movie is experiencing closure, catharsis over the death of their father, for Ian it's the fact that he died before he was born so he never met him and is driven by this desire to finally see the father who he shares such a connection with on the stories everybody who knew him in life have told him, and then there is Barley, the elder brother, who did know his dad in life, but is tortured by how, as a kid, he did not properly say good bye to him because he was terrified of death and avoided being there for him in his final days. The ending for this movie is very powerful, Ian choosing to sacrifice being able to meet his dad in the flesh, even for a few minutes, in order to give Barley the chance to being able to properly make peace with his dad and properly say good bye to him. Ian doesn't even get to SEE this, he does not get to see his dad even tho it was what he wanted most of all, but he understood bringing closure to Barley was more important than his selfish desire to see his dad, someone he never knew in life.

So what have i learned from whatever the hell this trainwreck of a post is...i guess that what really gets to me, what really moves me, is when a character, maybe not even someone i can realistically relate to, gets to experience closure, catharsis and be in peace with the people who are missing on their life. The majority of these things in here, even the Angel Hare example, relate to a character being able to experience catharsis by being able to properly make pace or otherwise contact someone they lost, or their ability to move on from this world, so to speak, knowing that their affairs and in order and that their loved ones will be okay.

Things can always look dark, the world may be trying to keep you down, maybe losing someone has been specially hard for you, but it's not the end of the world, you are loved and things can get better, it always hurts and we'll never stop missing what we have lost, but the memories of happier times are there to remind us, we can be happy again, and we can move on, use those memories as your motivation, you can lead yourself to a future filled with light.

#rambling #onward #mother 3 #angel hare #twisted metal #punch out #yoshi's island #undertale #deltarune #regular show #courage the cowardly dog #EBA

[lesbianchemicalplant]

For reference, that post criticizing the Internet Archive is by a published author whose other posts are whining about:

the Internet Archive being “piracy” [sic]

how such “piracy” “hurts marginalized authors” [sic]

how you should “fuck right off” for “actively stealing income from artists” [sic]

[x]

[Image ID: screenshot of the blog’s description, reading “author sideblog: juleskelleybooks; author website: juleskelleybooks.com; author twitter: juleskelleybks”]

Other recent posts on their blog about the Internet Archive include:

I’m tired and conflict avoidant so I’m a) not putting this on the post I saw going around and b) putting it on my tumblr account that has all notifications turned off but

just so you know, the Internet Archive is not a library. It is a pirate site. It does not pay authors. A real library buys a lending license so that authors get paid.

Also: pirating books never, ever, ever, ever, ever punishes the publisher, even if it is a big trad publisher. They’re set up too well for that, honeys. All that loss gets passed on to the authors.

And before you go off about the evils of trad publishing and the virtues of indie/self-pubbing, the Internet Archive also steals work from indie and self-published authors and doesn’t pay them, either.

So, you know. Support the IA if you want to, but just square up with the fact that you’re actively stealing income from artists when you do, and own that out loud. And then fuck right off.

[x]

I mean, here's the thing. Do what you want. That's between you and your conscience and everyone has to make their own decisions.

But I'm just really, really, really tired of every time this subject (piracy, in general, though also the IA) comes around and indie authors are like "this hurts marginalized authors", so many people keep coming up with reasons why it's okay, actually, and wanting us to validate their choices. *shrug emoji*

[x]

listen i know i’ve been on this for a minute but i’m big mad about how the IA is basically holding information hostage in exchange for money to a) pay for court costs incurred by being sued for breaking the law and also royalty theft and b) finance their bad investments in crypto/nft

clearly this project needs to be taken over by, like, a group of people with even just a smidgen of ethics.

[x]

Bonus:

also I find it funny that the post about the NFTs didn’t even make any moral judgments or recommendations (until I reblogged stating that I thought it was disingenuous to demand money when they’re throwing their money into a rapidly collapsing pit for the betterment of their founder) but that’s the one that’s got people coming into my inbox about it.

#it's the bernie bros all over again

[x] (bolding added for emphasis by me in all cases)

Additionally: there’s nothing recent on the Internet Archive’s “own damn Twitter account” indicating that they’re particularly heavily invested in Crypto and NFTs. I scrolled a good way down, well past when the OP made the post (July 13th), and there just isn’t anything to that effect

Multiple other people in the replies on that post made the same effort to find anything like that, and similarly found nothing:

This needs an actual source. I went through their twitter for 10 minutes, didn't find a word about NFT's or Crypto. I have yet to find any source that the Internet Archive is involved in crypto beyond archiving information about NFT's. Until I see that, this sounds sketchy at best and at worst yet another attempt by bad actors to attack and shut down a backbone of the free internet.

[x]

I can’t find these tweets about NFTs—how far back do you have to go?

[x]

This isn’t to say the Internet Archive has nothing at all to do with Crypto or NFTs, unfortunately—they promoted NFTs with some stupid fucking Web Conference in 2021, and accept crypto donations. It is also true that the IA’s founder is on the board of advisors for Filecoin. But there’s no real indication that the IA‘s recent request for donations is specifically to “finance their bad investments in crypto/nft”, rather than the much more obvious explanation that, y’know, they’re being attacked by the publishing industry

The Internet Archive is being sued by publishing giants: by all appearances, that’s why they’re asking for donations. The OP has made abundantly clear that they side with those publishing giants. Don’t get baited by petty bourgeoisie having an Intellectual Property tantrum

#internet archive #finnglas #garbage #jules kelley #my posts

[chierushi]

REVIEW, Part 1: The Prince of Egypt (1998)

Disclaimer: This was written in April of 2021, but couldn't continue due to Tumblr's image limit. They only allowed 10 per post, but now it's 30! Still too little for my review though, so I need to do this in parts. Link for Part 2 is placed at the end of this post.

I saw one of Josh Keefe's video here on Tumblr. It looked promising so I got curious and watched it. That led me to his other videos, and I came across his video essay for The Prince of Egypt. I’ll put the link here so you could check it out.

I’ve always loved this movie. Due to some films and series I’ve seen the past couple of months, I have this new way of appreciating filmmaking. Since it’s on Netflix and it’s holy week anyway, I decided to watch it again.

The movie opens with this:

We see clouds in the sky. The clouds go away gradually to show the sun. Suddenly, Pharaoh's big statue head drops in the shot. The symbolisms here and how they're shown are remarkable. In ancient Egyptian religion, Ra is god of the sun and creator god, and it was thought that Pharaohs are depiction of Ra. When the people, the Hebrews, are revealed to be pulling this huge block of stone, we immediately see slavery and how the ruler of Egypt is making their lives miserable.

Under the heat of the sun, which I think is also a symbolism of how the Pharaoh is above the Israelites, we hear the Israelites' prayer to God. We'll see more of how Egyptians are always above the Hebrews.

This particular scene where the Egyptian guard cuts in exactly right after showing Pharaoh's statue head is brilliant.

By the end of the song, a woman is shown holding a baby. Egyptian guards are running in the background, while the woman is singing,

“Son, I have nothing I can give but this chance that you may live.”

According to the Bible, there was a directive from the king to throw every newborn Hebrew boy into the river. Then, the scene changed into a reddish hue.

Jochebed, Moses’ mother, threw him off the river. Even with his sister Miriam watching over him, whatever happens to Moses now is beyond their control. There’s no assurance that he would survive. What are the odds that the Egyptian princess would find him? What are the odds that she’s not as evil as her people? What are the odds that she would accept a random Hebrew baby in the royal family? Jochebed’s faith challenging the odds should be lauded, and the goodness of the Egyptian princess should be recognized, too. Women!

Moses, now in the arms of princess, is carried into the palace.

Pay attention to the lyrics of the song in this scene.

Next, we see Ramses and Moses, all grown up, riding a horse carriage. There are hieroglyphs around them, but they seem undisturbed by it.

Ramses takes a good look at that one particular hieroglyph where an Egyptian is also riding a horse carriage. He's pleased, as if saying to himself that he’s on the right track. Moses saw this, and tried to joke about it, but Ramses answered candidly.

The brothers are reprimanded for the ruckus they caused that day. Consider the spaces and lines that separate the characters, the Pharaoh from his sons, particularly Ramses.

The second still above in particular, is right after Pharaoh saying, “I’m building an empire.” In the background is the view of the land, and on the king’s side, his statue head overlooking the city.

After Ramses left the throne room, Moses pleaded their case to the Pharaoh. Again, be aware of the spaces. They’re now partitioned separately, but notice that Moses is closer to the throne. He managed to cross the metaphorical line between them, without any objection from the Pharaoh.

He is seen reaching out to him, breaking the barrier. We’ll later find out that the king listened to Moses’ suggestion to approve of Ramses, which further drives the point.

The whole case of Ramses as a weak successor and Moses as a supportive brother almost made me think they are a loving, blue-blooded family. We see here how the Egyptians are so far in viewing the oppression they’re committing to the Hebrew people.

The king required them to attend a banquet where Ramses is going to be appointed as crown regent. He is offered a gift by the high priests: a woman from a faraway land. However, she’s feisty and fights back when the princes try to ridicule her. Moses played the game right, or so he thought. When he gazed at his mother, thinking she’d approve of the mockery, he saw her shake her head in disappointment. (Again, women!)

Ramses gave Moses his ring as he appointed his brother as royal chief architect. He now has an actual place in the palace, not just a brother to the crown prince.

Moses pursued the woman they mocked earlier, and found out she was able to escape. He could’ve used his privilege as prince to imprison her again, but for some reason, he used that to her advantage instead.

Moses let her get out of the palace, and followed her to the streets. He’s pleased with what he did.

Even the dialogues from this movie are written beautifully. This exchange is cleverly worded, knowing that the Pharaoh is considered god in Egypt. Miriam’s answer can be interpreted as either he's supposed to ask God or his alleged adoptive father of his origins.

Miriam: Our mother set you adrift in a basket to save your life!

Young Moses: Save my life? From who?

Miriam: Ask the man that you call "Father."

He didn’t take offense earlier when he’s called an “arrogant pampered palace brat”, maybe because he knows it’s actually true? Maybe because no matter how rude he seems to be, the important thing is he’s still royal in her statement? We saw how a place in aristocracy gives him validation. Miriam’s declaration of him being an illegitimate Egyptian is no forgiving matter.

This is possibly my only negative remark on this movie: The part where Miriam sings a lullaby is not explained well. It wasn’t stated in the film but, in the Bible, the princess hired Jochebed to take care of Moses. He probably remembered that lullaby.

Another brilliant visual! A mirror of earlier close-up with Jochebed:

Moses runs back to the palace, trying to convince himself that “this is all he ever wanted,” but he’s dissatisfied with it.

An illustration of what transpired that day was laid out next using hieroglyphs. This may just be a dream or an illusion, but this is the first time that we witness Moses acknowledging them. I think he has always known the hieroglyphs are telling him the ugly truth, but chooses to ignore. After waking up to that nightmare, he runs off to the drawings on the wall.

We've seen this earlier. There’s that familiar person pointing at something, but it was limited and shown from Ramses’ perspective. Moses chose to see the big picture. He’s perfectly placed here, too, with him lined up with the newborns. The truth is: He could've been one of them.

I wonder if the Pharaoh knew he’s a Hebrew. Didn’t his father wonder if Moses would rebel one day? We see the king trying to comfort him. Moses discovers he’s well aware of his vile ways.

“Sometimes, for the greater good, sacrifices must be made.”

Moses, after hearing this, felt horror at the thought that the sacrifices his father meant were innocent children (to which he belonged). The sentence below was said in a very comforting father tone.

Young Moses: Why did you choose me?

Queen Taya: We didn't, Moses. The gods did. This is your home, my son, here the river brought you, and it's here the river meant to be your home. Now you know the truth, love. Now forget and be content, when the gods send you a blessing, you don't ask why it was sent.

Horrible words uttered as a song is worse because they sound comforting and beautiful to hear. Despite this, Moses was still able to spot the errancy.

...continued here in Part 2.

#princeofegypt #prince of egypt #christian #christianity #god #moses #exodus #chierushireviews

[marinecorvid]

I posted 28,087 times in 2022

That's 18,442 more posts than 2021! (editor's note: holy shit)

213 posts created (1%)

27,874 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@bittenfingers13

@chaoticbooklesbian

@grumpytrans

@glo-13

@b3rgamot

I tagged 1,151 of my posts in 2022

#fav - 68 posts

#audio - 40 posts

#art - 39 posts

#obi wan kenobi - 24 posts

#pokemon - 22 posts

#my art - 21 posts

#obi wan kenobi spoilers - 21 posts

#queue - 20 posts

#pokemon ranger - 20 posts

#star wars - 20 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i’m not perfect. why do i need to be beautiful. i’m tired of being strong. every day for the past year has been a ‘bad day’ this isn’t okay

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

freedom of the skies - ramin djawadi

house of the dragon - s.1 e.1 - the heirs of the dragon

62 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

#4

okay. im gonna be honest, aemond n vhagar accidentally killing luke isnt what im most mad about. the whole hotd as a show is an adaption of fire and blood, a book that’s only a collection of historical, biased accounts as people who weren’t necessarily close to the main pieces but from an outsider’s perspective, so we’ll see things that clash with how history glamorizes/villainizes some people/events.

i think making alicent a more complex character beyond an evil stepmother was a good choice; the idea that aemond didn’t lose an eye bc luke went down to confront him to specifically kill him, but bc of an emotional scuffle that got out of hand. i’m not so keen on criston cole getting away with straight up murder with no visible repercussions every other episode, nor the kicking off of the usurper aegon plot bc of a misunderstanding via a dying viserys (i think that takes away a smidge too much of alicent’s agency), and i think rhaenys busting out of the dragonpit floor unharmed (tho yes, extremely cool) was bad writing.

however, given grrm’s irl tendencies of being anti-monarchist and comparing the dragons to living nukes, as well as the books being far more mythical/fantastical/grudgingly positive with dany desperately striving to do good for people - and the tragic feel between alicent and rhaenyra, how they both wanted reconciliation towards the end, before the blood began to flow - i think it’s not a complete left turn out of nowhere to say yeah, one of the bloodiest wars in westerosi history was ultimately a conflict stemming from a handful of long-festering accidents between an emotionally and genetically unstable family with people constantly trying to manipulate them. i just wish they didn’t reduce so many turning points to accidents.

also, as displayed in both asoiaf and f&b, dragons don’t always listen to their riders, even when they’re so closely bonded to their human like w dany; arrax was still young and flighty (metaphorically) and vhagar was a battle dragon, of course she’s gonna hit back if she gets fire to the face

still worried abt the state of the writing for coming seasons 😬

72 notes - Posted October 21, 2022

#3

Fr tho “the quiet rapture” is a TERRIFYING but perfect name for a terrifying but inexplicable mass death. The world ends not with a bang but a whimper

127 notes - Posted August 15, 2022

#2

pov you just watched the leaked finale of hotd s1

175 notes - Posted October 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

up to the usual quality standards i see

649 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#FOUND IT

[dilfdoctordoom]

On Tom Taylor, the Current Nightwing Run & Ableism

I did mention I was gonna do a post about it, so here we are. There are some things I want to make clear before we begin: the issue exploded on Twitter on the very first day of disabled Pride month; disabled people have been discussing the ableism in Taylor’s Nightwing run since it began; nobody has blamed Taylor for what happened to Barbara in 2011. We are, however, blaming him for the way she is written in his series during 2021. 

I am also going to be discussing the ableism in the fandom in this post. The reactions I have seen, from here to Twitter to TikTok, are showing not only a great misunderstanding of the situation, but a purposeful misunderstanding. The very real reasons disabled people are angry right now have been twisted to make us seem ridiculous and overly sensitive and I cannot help but feel that is very intentional.

Another quick addition: disabled people are not a monolith. Barbara Gordon spent over 20 years as a paralyzed wheelchair user. Stating (and I would like to note, never truly showing) that she is a part time cane user now is still erasing her disability. These things are not interchangeable.

So, with that out of the way, let’s begin.

Tom Taylor’s run is ableist. That is a fact of this situation. He made the active choice to include a version of Barbara Gordon that is ableist caricature. Story wise, the role that Barbara plays could have easily been filled by anyone else. There is no real season, within the narrative and outside of it, for Taylor to include this version of Barbara Gordon, who has received a decade of criticism from disabled people. It’s very well known that this iteration is problematic, to put it kindly, and Taylor is aware of that. 

He made the active decision to include her, anyway, showing, at the very least, that he is passively, if not actively, ableist. Passive ableism is still ableism and disabled people are allowed to take issue with that.

That alone is reason enough for disabled people to be angry. But that’s not why things exploded on Twitter.

On July 1st, the very first day of disabled pride month, the new design for Barbara was dropped. After months of teasing Barbara’s return to a wheelchair using Oracle (see: Last Days of The DC Universe, Batgirl (2016), etc), they debuted... a new Batgirl costume that the artist has openly said draws inspiration from the Burnside suit.

There’s a lot of issues to unpack here, so let’s start small: the issue with consciously calling back to Burnside. The Burnside era of Batgirl stories was... beyond awful. The villain of the series’ first arc, was an AI based on Barbara’s brain patterns when she was disabled. It was evil because of all the rage and pain Barbara felt. The actual Barbara, on the other hand, was good -- because she was able bodied. Because her PTSD had been tossed aside. It was a horrifically ableist era that drove the idea that Barbara’s life was terrible when she was disabled; that it was some horrible, twisted secret.

Comics have kept that narrative going. Barbara is seen hiding books on chronic pain; she reacts aggressively to the mere idea that she could be in a wheelchair again, acting like it would be weakness. Whereas Barbara had once been Oracle not because of, but in spite of, her disability, who was fantastic representation for the disabled community, she now acts like it is the most shameful thing in her life.

To call back to Burnside is to call back to that ableism and make no critique of it. If anything, it’s to embrace the ideas of that era.

There is also the design itself to consider. Many people have pointed out the inclusion of a back brace, as if that saves it from ableism -- it does not. Any person who has ever worn a back brace can take one look at this design and know that they did not consult a disabled person. Hell, by how impractical that thing is, I doubt they even Googled a picture of a back brace.

It’s a superficial acknowledgement that Barbara is supposed to be disabled. Something that was apparently thrown in to appease the numerous complaints of Barbara being able bodied; something that no one working on it put any effort into.

When it comes to aids, this is not a new thing for Barbara in Infinite Frontier. She’s said to be using a cane occasionally, that we got a better look at in Batman: Urban Legends, and as any cane user can tell you... that is not a cane that could feasibly be used. It’s another pathetic attempt to acknowledge that Barbara is supposed to be disabled, without actually doing anything of importance.

[IMAGE ID:  A segmented cane with a tri-pointed handle with a wrist strap. There is a stripe across the sections to connection them, labelled “solar battery charger buttons”. The text reads: “telescoping antenna doubles as cane or weapon if needed”. END ID]

Dropping this design (which we have now established to be problematic) on the very first day of disabled pride month is a sickening move. The very first day, and DC has doubled down on their disability erasure, thrown in superficial things like a back brace to act like it’s fine.

Tom Taylor is definitely involved in this, whether you like it not. No, he is not in anyway responsible for the events of the New 52 and what they did to Barbara Gordon, but that does not absolve him of blame for what is currently being done to her in his run.

When the design dropped, it started trending due to disabled fans reactions. To be clear: we were directly calling out the ableism in this design. This was Tom Taylor’s response:

[IMAGE ID: A tweet from TomTaylorMade that says: “Hey, @Bruna_Redono_F I think our new Batgirl suit is getting some attention.” He then adds a winky face emoji and tags @jesswchen and @drinkpinkkink. Attached are a screenshot showing that Batgirl is trending in the United States and a picture of the design itself. END ID]

This is him, bragging about how the disabled community reacted. Perhaps before this tweet, you could’ve made an argument that he was not ableist, but after he flaunted the fact that disabled people were rightly furious over this, like it was something to be proud of? No. If you are defending him, you are a part of the problem.

Taylor has included ableist writing in his Nightwing run, beyond the inherent ableism that comes with the current iteration of Barbara Gordon (whose inclusion, yet again, is his decision).

[IMAGE ID: A panel from Nightwing #79. Barbara and Dick are standing in his apartment. Barbara is saying: “I have some pretty new technology holding my spine together. I’m happy to do most things -- eat pizza in the park, take down low-level thugs -- but leaping from rooftops seems... unwise.” END ID]

What Barbara says in the panel above has bothered a lot of disabled people. The implication that she couldn’t “eat pizza in the park’ and “take down low-level thugs” without a spinal implant that conveniently erases her disability is... fucked up, to put it mildly. Those are both things that Barbara has done in a wheelchair. The first one is something wheelchair users can do and the implication that it’s not is beyond offensive.

But, let’s leave Barbara behind for a moment. I have previously mentioned that disabled people have been discussing the ableism present in this run long before July -- and that ableism is not only centred on Barbara. Dick is also a player in all this.

Dick Grayson was shot in the head. I don’t believe I need to retread the story, but just in case: Dick was shot in the head by KGBeast, developed amnesia from the event, and went by Ric Grayson for a long enough period in comics. If you have been active within the DC fandom for the past year or so, you know all about this controversial storyline and its fallout.

The Ric Grayson arc concluded itself the issue before Taylor became the writer for the series and ever since his tenure has begun, Taylor has completely ignored the reality of Dick being a disabled man. We understand this is comics, that things do not function the way they do in our world, but still -- it is clear that this gunshot wound to the head has affected Dick massively. We had an entire arc dedicated to how he struggled to find himself in the aftermath.

Taylor is choosing to write Dick as an able-bodied man, despite his canonical injuries and how they would impact his life.

This man is choosing to give empty gestures towards Barbara being a disabled woman (as discussed above, the completely dysfunctional back brace, etc) whilst writing her as able-bodied as possible. He writes both Dick and Barbara as able bodied as humanly possible. That is ableist. He is ableist. This is the same man that said he made a dog disabled ‘in honour of Barbara’. I do not think I need to elaborate on why that is bad.

The least he could’ve done, was get a sensitivity reader. We know that Taylor is not beyond getting people from marginalized communities to consult on his work (see: Suicide Squad), so why, when writing two characters that should be disabled, one that the disabled community have been criticising for a decade, does he not reach out to a single disabled person? A mere Google search could’ve improved the situation massively. In both the new design and the current writing, it is beyond clear that this is not just an able-bodied person writing it -- it’s an ableist person.

He could have listened to the numerous disabled fans that spoke out. Instead, he chose not only to refuse to do that, but to describe justifiable anger as ‘raging’. He treated us like we were crazy for daring to speak out about blatant ableism being parading around of us in our pride month.

Tom Taylor has failed to do the bare minimum and in doing so, he is, at very, very least, guilty of complicity. Again: passive ableism is still ableism.

The argument at hand is not just about Barbara Gordon and the continuing ableism that shines out from her current writing. The argument is about the treatment of disabled characters in his run. It has also become about the way he treats physically disabled people.

We also can’t have this conversation without acknowledging the fandom’s role in it all. I waited a day to write this up, to allow all the reactions to flood in... and I am sickened.

We have everything across the board. Able-bodied people that have actually listened to disabled people, who have supported us (which is deeply appreciated). Able-bodied people who may have had good intentions, but a skewed sense of the situation and perpetuating some of the more insidious lies being spread around (IE. that this is only about the new costume).

There are, obviously, the ableist reactions, though, that we will be discussing here. People deeming the current issues as ‘crazy’, calling disabled people ‘overly sensitive’ and ‘delusional’. Many people have completely glossed over the examples given for why Taylor, specifically, is ableist, and instead have resorted to telling disabled people that we are wrong and should be mad at DC instead.

It’s important to note that Tom Taylor is an adult man. He doesn’t need a fandom to attack disabled people for daring to call him out. He is not the victim in this situation; he has, for quite a few disabled people, been the aggressor.

I have seen claims that Infinite Frontier is a ‘slow burn’, implying that disabled people need to patient... as if we have not waited a decade for less ableist writing. There is a complete refusal from able-bodied fans to actually listen to what disabled people are saying. They would much rather rush to the defence of the (honestly rather mediocre) current Nightwing run. 

Disabled fans know that comic book spaces are ableist. We know that both DC and Marvel and many of their writers are ableist. We are still allowed to be pissed as hell about it and acting like the current reaction being had right now is disabled people being ‘overdramatic’ is yet another example of how the able-bodied side of the fandom both refuses to listen to and undermine disabled people when we call out ableism.

We know it when we see it. We always do and we always will and we will always be able to recognize it far faster than an able-bodied person. If this many disabled fans are coming out and talking about an issue, calling it ableism, then it’s time for you shut up and listen.

Stop being a part of the problem and start supporting disabled fans for once.

#barbara gordon #dick grayson #nightwing #batgirl #tom taylor #tw ableism #okay to rb

[ghostly-cabbage]

Party In The Graveyard (Shiptember 2021 : Drunk)

It’s a day late but heres the Danny x Wes fic I wrote for @ghostgothgeek ‘s Ship Event!! Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Language, Underage Drinking, Mild Suggestive Themes Additional Tags: Post-Reveal, Aged Up Characters, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Getting Together

Summary: So, here’s the thing; Wes never wanted to have a fucking house party, okay? This was all stupid Kyle’s stupid idea. Kyle isn’t even in highschool anymore. He graduated last year. But he invited his whole college freshmen class, and just about everyone from the senior Casper class. And it's just getting better and better. Why? Because about half an hour ago, Danny Fucking Fenton walked in.

--

Or a fic in which Wes sees Danny getting shitfaced and says, "Is anyone else gonna take care of him, or?" and then doesn't wait for an answer.

Words: 6,233

Ao3

“I take back all my poor words. Talk is cheap, but my mind is rich When I close my eyes You grab my wrist, And pull me in to your cold dead lips”

So, here’s the thing; Wes never wanted to have a fucking house party, okay? 

This was all stupid Kyle’s stupid idea. 

Kyle isn’t even in highschool anymore. He graduated last year. But he invited his whole college freshmen class, and just about everyone from the senior Casper class. 

And it's just getting better and better. 

Why?

Because about half an hour ago, Danny Fucking Fenton walked in. 

He walked in like he owned the goddamn place and the reaction went through everyone like a Whoop—like some kind of synchronized celebration of a miracle. 

What, just ‘cause everyone knows he’s Phantom now? 

Give him a fuckin’ break. 

Currently, Wes is standing adjacent to the fridge, nursing a god-awful drink Kyle shoved into his hands before disappearing back into the throng. 

Lighten up, bro, he’d said. 

Yeah. 

Sure. 

The music pounds through the house—a heart beat—a fucking jack-hammer. 

People talk and yell and spill their drinks on just about every surface that can stain. 

A cheer goes up from the dining room and he rolls his eyes. 

He slams his drink and focuses on the outdated calendar on the side of the fridge to keep from shuddering. It makes his mouth water, burns the whole way down and Jesus, seriously, what the fuck did Kyle put in this? 

He throws his cup at the overflowing trash can. 

His cheeks feel warm, but not even a buzz touches the wound up feeling in his chest. 

He passes through the dining room, stops to watch Danny and Dash shotgunning sixteen ounce Mike’s Harder cans. From the looks of the table, they've already gone a few rounds.

Danny finishes five whole seconds before Dash. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and crushes his can. 

“Slowing down already, Baxter?” he says, a smug grin plastered across his face. His shoulders are slumped and he talks just a bit too loud.

Dash finishes his and tosses it over his shoulder, which—cool. Fucking nice, what, does he think they have a fucking maid? 

“In your dreams, Fenton. We're just getting warmed up. No way I'm getting out-drank by a twig like you, half-ghost or not.” 

“Guess we’ll see.” Danny shrugs. He talks like he’s one of those people, has always been one of those people. 

Wes rolls his eyes and is just about to slip out of the room when— 

“Ohhh shit! If it isn’t the one and only Wesley Weston!” 

Fucking hell. 

He turns and levels as unimpressed of a look as he can manage at Danny. 

“Imagine that. It’s almost like I fucking live here.” 

Danny swipes up a plastic cup and then proceeds to walk through the table towards him. People act like they’re finding out all over again. 

“Oh come on, Wes. You’re not still mad are you?” He comes up to him and slouches against the archway’s frame. 

Wes scrapes his tongue along his teeth. “Mad? What could I possibly be mad about?”

Danny looks at him like a puzzle. 

When he talks his voice is quiet, hard to hear over the music. “I dunno, the fact that you knew all along but no one ever listened? They thought you were crazy and you weren’t but no one's even said sorry?” His lips quirk up at the corner and Wes can smell the artificial black cherry dancing on the top of the alcohol in his breath. 

He wrinkles his nose and it has nothing to do with the smell. 

“I was being facetious, prick.” 

Danny smiles bigger, and his eyes glitter, something doe-eyed.  

“Right. So you are still mad?” 

He pushes air through his teeth. 

“Not like it matters,” he says, looking away from Danny, drifting over the room. “Where’s your chaperones? Weird to see you anywhere alone.” 

Danny just stares at him for a few seconds before understanding sparks. 

“Ah. Sam’s got a family thing. Tuck took a closing shift.” He waves a hand and his head lolls against the wall with a thunk. He lifts the cup to his lips and takes a swig. 

Everything about him looks heavy. It’s weird for Danny.  

“Have you tried the jungle juice your brother made?” he says. “It sucks. You’ve gotta try it.” 

Wes lifts a brow and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“How many’ve you had?” 

Danny looks down into his cup, swirls its contents. It’s silent for several seconds too long. 

“I’m not really sure, honestly. Didn’t know I was supposed to keep count.” 

Wes slides a hand down his face. 

Jesus Christ. 

“Listen, maybe you should slow down—”

“Yo! Fenton! Stop flirting with Wes and fucking get over here, we’re not done.” Dash calls across the room and— 

Flirting?! 

They weren’t fucking flirting. 

What the fuck.

Wes’s face heats up far beyond the liquor in his veins. 

Danny looks up and flashes Dash a thumbs up. And then Danny is even closer—grabbing his arm. The chill of his hand goes right through to his stomach. 

“Hey,” he breathes, “come watch me outdrink Dash.”

“Why would I wanna do that?” He ignores the way his breath flutters in his lungs, the way he feels light all the way to his toes.

Danny smiles like what he’s about to say is a secret—like it’s just for him, and all of a sudden Wes wants to be as far from Danny as humanly possible.

“Isn’t watching Dash lose at something for once reason enough?” 

Wes forces himself to keep breathing and he swallows. 

“Fine,” is all he can force out and then Danny is dragging him towards the table. He ignores all the people looking at them. 

The fragmented group of A-listers cheer again and Dash slams a bottle of Fireball onto the table, making people's drinks jump and slosh. 

“Let’s kick it up a notch, shall we?” he says, grin just shy of evil. 

“Where’d you get that?” Wes asks. 

Dash cocks a brow. “Paulina found it? Duh.” 

God, Kyle really wasn’t joking about getting people fucked up. 

Wes is not going to clean up anyone’s puke this time. This shit is all on Kyle. 

“Dude, is it even cold?” Danny asks. 

“No, it wasn’t in the freezer long enough,” Paulina says. She’s drinking from a champagne flute for some fucking reason. He didn’t even know they had those. 

“Gimme that,” Danny says, swiping it from Dash. “No way in hell I’m drinking warm whiskey.” 

His eyes glow blue, and when he breathes out its a thin vapor. Frost creeps over the glass and Wes can’t help but shiver.

“Dude, fucking wicked. I’m still not over this,” Dash breathes, clapping his hands together. 

How could Wes forget that Dash is Phantom’s number one fanboy after all?

But Danny isn’t looking at Dash—he’s looking at him. 

Only it’s different this time. Because before it was always a taunt, blatantly rubbing it in Wes’ face when he used his powers and no one else noticed.

But the way Danny is looking at him now… like he’s waiting for something, thinking about something.

Danny hands back the Fireball and his eyes slip away from Wes and he feels like a fish wrenched from water. 

What the hell was that? 

“Fuck yeah, Fenton.” Dash unscrews the whiskey, flicks the cap off the mouth with a finger, sending it flying. He pours directly into their cups, the liquid glugging through the frosted neck of the bottle.

“Two shots of vodka,” someone says and everyone laughs.

“No chasers?” Danny asks, eyeing his cup. 

Dash puts down the Fireball. “What’s the matter, you scared of the burn?” 

“Not a chance,” he says, and holds out his cup to Dash. They cheers each other and then they’re throwing it back. 

It sinks in his stomach like a rock. There’s no way this ends well. 

.

It’s on the sixth round of Fireball that Dash starts to look green. He sets down his cup and leans on the table. He stares at the clear storage container of jungle juice and Kwan comes up beside him, pats his arm. 

“Dude, maybe you should call it.” 

“I’m fine, ‘s fine…” His words slur together. He tries to stand up straight and Kwan and Paulina both have to keep him up right. 

Danny laughs. “Not lookin’ great, Baxter,” he says, his own words falling sluggishly from his mouth. Danny goes to lift his cup to his lips again and Wes puts his hand over it. 

“Nope. You two are done.” 

“Come on, Wes. Don’t be a buzzkill. I’m good!” Danny says. “Dash is the one that lost!” He flings his hand towards Dash and knocks the Fireball over, spilling it all over the table.

The group all crows at once, a choir of “oh shit” “nice one” and “duuuude noooo”’s. A few people rush to grab their phones from harm's way.

Danny blinks at the table. “Oops,” he says. 

A smile splits his face and he starts chuckling. It builds from him, a laugh, something outside of him—beyond him. 

He laughs until he’s doubled over, holding onto Wes to keep himself stable. 

“Yeah, that’s it. You’ve had more than enough.” He grabs Danny’s cup from him before he can spill that too and drinks it himself. The cinnamon burns through his sinuses and he shudders. Ugh. 

Danny straightens and sways just a bit, stumbling into him—their faces inches apart.

“Hey, that was mine,” he says, voice twisted in a pout. “Not cool.” His breath is cold, thick with the smell of whiskey. 

Wes feels frozen, feels like he can’t breathe. 

His heart pounds in his chest and he prays Danny isn’t so close he can feel it. 

Around them the choir starts again, a chorus of suggestive “ooo”’s. He can feel their eyes on him and it makes his skin crawl. 

Fucking dammit, this is all Fenton’s fault. 

He pushes Danny away from him. Not fast or rough, just to arms length. He coughs. 

“Star, you should go to the kitchen and get them both some water,” he says. 

She gives him an annoyed look. 

“I don’t see you doing anything else,” he snaps. 

“I’m drunk too, you know,” she says, but gets up and leaves towards the kitchen. 

Paulina and Kwan coax Dash into a chair, and he puts his head down on the table, groaning. A few others are sopping up the Fireball with paper towels. 

Danny sags in his grip, goofy smile still plastered all over his face. 

“I’ve never been drunk before, this is awesome,” he says. 

Wes rolls his eyes, and maneuvers Danny into a chair. His head lolls back and he stares at the ceiling for a second before perking back up and trying to go for someone else's cup. 

“Dude, I’m serious.” Wes moves the cup out of his reach. “Quit while you’re ahead.” 

Danny groans, sinking down in his chair like he’s boneless. 

“Come on, Wes,” he says. “You think I don’t know my own limits?” 

“You just said this is your first time being drunk.” 

Danny blows a raspberry. 

Star walks back into the room and hands Wes a glass of water and then slides one across the table at Dash. 

“Here. Wanna drink? Drink this.” 

“Ugh, fine,” he says. 

He’s a few swigs into it when he stops. 

“God, it’s hot in here. Is anyone else hot?” And before anyone can answer his eyes glow that bright blue and a chill works through the air, plummets the temperature. 

“Danny—” Goosebumps rise over Wes’ skin and his breath fogs from his mouth. 

At varying levels of exasperation, the people around cry out. 

“Dude, cut that out,” he says, smacking Danny’s arm. 

“Ow, why are you hitting me?” 

“Because you’re being a pain in the ass.” 

Danny looks at him, blinks heavy eyelids. He smiles. 

“What.” 

“Nothing, you just… You’re cute when you’re all annoyed sometimes.” 

The ground feels like it opens up underneath him. 

His thoughts screech to a stop. It smells like burnt rubber, like cinnamon and black cherry. 

It’s just the alcohol. No fucking way Danny of all people would say that to him. 

“You really are drunk,” he says, but his voice sounds off kilter. 

Across the house the last song fades out and Usher’s Yeah comes on. People scream and cheer. 

“Holy shit, I love this song,” Danny says and stands up. He sways and catches himself on the edge of the table, starts laughing again. “Whew, that was close. The spinning is normal, right?” 

Fucking Christ, how did he end up on babysitting duty again? He rubs his temples. 

Is he really about to do this? 

“You should lay down.” He heaves a sigh. “Come on.” 

“Jeez, Wes, that's pretty forward,” Danny says, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Heat flashes through him. 

“Would you just shut up,” he hisses. “And stop making it cold. Jesus.” 

Danny snorts and when he moves from the table he wobbles. Wes grabs him before he topples and slings Danny’s arm over his shoulder to keep him up. 

Danny leans into him, almost unbalances them.

“You got a problem with the cold, Wes?” he says, this time his cold breath is against the side of his neck. It sends chills down his spine. 

“I don’t have to help you, you know,” he says, voice thick. “You can get alcohol poisoning for all I care.” 

“You’re a bad liar, Wes.” 

Wes yanks Danny along beside him and out of the dining room. 

“Shut up, Danny. You’re drunk.” 

He hauls Danny past the living room and the knot of people dancing and singing. A few call out to them, ask them to come have fun. He steers them away before Danny can pull away and join them. 

“But I wanna have fun, Wes,” he whines. 

“Dude, you can’t even stand without my help right now, you really wanna try dancing?” 

“Dance with me, then.” 

Wes stops. He looks over at Danny and… 

He— 

He blinks, shakes his head.

“No, not—not right now,” he mumbles. 

“There’s a whole reason I came alone, you know,” Danny says. 

“What, so you could get fucked up and no one would stop you?” 

“Yeah! I mean… well, that’s part of it.” 

Wes guides them towards the stairs, ignoring the looks. 

“Your house is bigger than it looks from the outside,” Danny says. 

“Thanks?” 

“Mmhm.”

God. This is so not what he thought tonight was going to be like. 

“Where are we going?” Danny asks. 

“Somewhere you can lay down and sober up.” 

“Tha’s not vague.” 

Wes starts pulling Danny up the staircase. The second floor is dark, and he gropes around to hit the light. 

The first few steps are fine, which is to say the next steps aren’t fine. 

What he’s saying is that Danny says, “oh shit.” 

And then he’s falling—pulling Wes down with him. 

More accurately, Danny trips and pulls Wes down on top of him. 

They end up in a heap and Danny groans like someone does when they fall on the fucking stairs.

“Ow.” He reaches for the back of his head. Then he’s laughing, like it's the funniest goddamn thing in the world, what just happened. His face screws up, the face of someone who doesn’t know he’s in pain, just pretending.

“Seriously?” Wes snaps. His shin smarts—must have hit it on the stairs. 

“Sorry, sorry.” He laughs each syllable. “You good?” 

“No, I’m not—” And he looks down and he realizes how close they are. Realizes the way Danny’s hair falls into his face, the light catching the slope of his jaw. 

Danny quiets at the same time and it’s like they get stuck there. Like nothing else exists other than this staircase and this moment and the way Danny feels cool and solid like a summer night underneath him. 

“Hey,” Danny says—sounds almost breathless. “Come here often?” 

Wes rolls his eyes and just like that the moment is over. 

“Ugh.” He pushes himself up, detangles himself from Danny. 

Danny reaches for him, that stupid smile back on his face.

“Oh come on, Wes,” he says. 

“Quit messing around, dude.” 

Danny pushes himself up, runs a hand through his hair and Wes tracks the motion with his eyes against his best wishes. 

“You’re so mean. I could have a concussion and this is how you treat me?” 

Wes stands up and straightens his clothes. “You’re fine.” 

Danny gives him a look and then something sparks in his eyes. “I’m going to text Sam and Tucker and tell them how mean you are to me.” 

Psh. He says that like they don’t already hate him. 

“Would you just get up?” 

“These stairs are actually kinda comfy,” he says, head rolling back, sinking back down and closing his eyes. “I think I’ll just stay here.” 

Wes kicks his leg. 

“You can lay down in the room. Get up.” 

Danny heaves a sigh, throws an arm over his eyes. 

“Fiiinnneee.” He pulls himself up by the handrail, stops in a sitting position. “Jesus,” he says, voice just above a whisper. His breathing gets weird. It makes Wes pause. 

“You okay?” 

“...Spinning,” Danny breathes. He’s quiet for a bit, and Wes just lets him sit there. Danny holds his head in his hands for a while.  

Worry creeps into the back of his mind. Maybe Danny wasn’t kidding about the concussion thing. Maybe he should get someone— 

Then Danny is standing up and Wes steadys his other arm. 

“I got you,” he says. “Feeling okay?” 

Danny sends him a weak smile. “Yeah. Laying down does sound good though," he mumbles.  

They make it up the rest of the stairs, and Danny leans against the wall as Wes opens the door to his room. 

It’s dark and quiet inside and he flips on the light. 

He helps Danny in, and he flops face first onto his bed. He groans and rolls over. 

“I’m thinking those last few shots of Fireball were a bad idea…” 

Wes snorts and closes the door softly behind him. 

“Oh, just the last few, huh?” 

“I was havin’ fun, smartass,” Danny grumbles. 

Wes leans back against his dresser and crosses his arms. “I said you should have stopped but noooo, no one listens to Wes.” 

It gets quiet and he can feel the heaviness in the air. He clears his throat. “If you throw up in my bed, I’m kicking you out the window.” 

“I’m not going to throw up.” 

“Famous last words, Fenton.” 

“Shaddup,” Danny says, and it gets quiet. 

Wes can feel the bass from the music through the floor, the muffled sound of singing, laughing, talking. He’s used to ducking out at parties early. He’s used to laying in bed and listening to the songs through the walls until the voices slowly fade and the house is empty again. He listens to Kyle stumble up to bed and knock into the walls and yell “I’m okay” when he does.

He’s not used to having… company. 

Danny sits up like a puppet on too few strings. He makes a frustrated noise.

“It’s still hot,” he sighs. 

“It’s the alcohol, dude.” 

Danny runs his hands over his face, and then reaches back and starts pulling his hoodie off. It drags his shirt up with it and Wes can’t help but look. He looks at the multitude of scars staining Danny’s skin and the way his muscles move over his ribs and—he pulls his gaze away and studies the floor instead. 

“This is your bedroom, huh?” 

“Yep.” 

“Doesn’t look how I thought it would.” 

Wes wrinkles his nose. “How'd you think it would look?”

Danny takes his time looking around the room, hoodie pooled in his lap, before he looks at Wes and gives a boneless shrug. 

“I dunno. More,” he holds his hands up, splays his fingers, “raah!” 

“I… don’t know what that means.” 

“You know! Like… newspaper-clipping red-web on all the walls,” Danny says, smile creeping back. 

Wes squints at Danny. He pushes off his dresser. 

“That’s still all you think of me?” He picks a pillow from his bed and throws it at Danny’s face. Danny lets out a yelp. 

“Besides, I took all that shit down when the truth came out anyway,” he says, trying and failing to keep the inkling of a smile from his voice. 

Danny looks at him blankly for a second before he starts to smile again. 

“Wait, was that… Did you just make a joke?” 

Wes snorts. 

“You did! Holy shit, Wes has a sense of humor, this is bigger news than my shit. I gotta tell everyone.” 

Danny looks soft, sitting like this in the middle of his bed, eyes warm in a way Wes didn’t realize they could be. 

Something in him loosens. 

“Good luck getting people to believe you…” he says. 

“Oh, how the turn tables,” Danny says, and for a bit all they do is smile at each other. 

Danny looks away first, he glances up at the light and squints. 

“You got a light that isn’t so fuckin’ bright?” 

“I thought the light sensitivity was supposed to happen the morning after drinking.” 

“You’re full of jokes tonight.” 

Wes rolls his eyes and flips on the bedside lamp and then shuts off the overhead light. 

Danny hums and flops back down. “Better,” he says.

It’s silent for a few beats and Danny lifts his head to look at him. He smacks the comforter a few times with a flat hand. 

Wes blanches; he’s all too aware of himself, of Danny and the dim light and the closed door. 

“Dude, chill,” Danny says, like he can read his mind—wait, he can’t actually do that, right? Ghosts can’t do that? 

“Sit down or something. You just standing there watching me is creepy,” Danny says. 

Wes swallows his own heartbeat, shakes his head. “Seriously, between the two of us, I’m not the creepy one.” 

“Says the stalker.” 

“I didn’t stalk you.” 

Danny gives him a look, with raised eyebrows and everything. 

Wes sits on the side of the bed, scoots back so he’s leaned against the headboard. 

“I was… investigating.” 

Danny laughs. “Sure, dude. Whatever you say,” and his voice is like smoke—hickory and rough but winding through the air like silk.  

They fall into an amiable silence, cotton soft, but cold. Danny has an arm over his eyes again, and his breathing is so slow it’s hard to pick out from the music downstairs. 

He rakes a hand through his hair and takes out his phone. He unlocks it and scrolls mindlessly for a while. 

He can’t focus. 

Not with Danny so close like this. Not when everything is different now. His mind drifts off and he tries to keep track of every breath, wonders if he’s fallen asleep— 

“Hey, Wes.” 

He jumps. Just a little bit. 

“Y-yeah?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He puts his phone down. 

“...For what?”

“For making everyone think you were crazy.” 

Wes twists his hand in his comforter. Why the hell is Danny apologizing to him? After everything he’s done to him… tried to do to him. It gets stuck in his throat. 

“It’s… You don’t have to—” he wishes he’d had a few more drinks. 

“Nah. I do. Looking back, I didn’t handle you knowing very well.” 

He chews on his lip. He’s never felt so out of place. 

“Danny…” 

Danny moves his arm and looks up at him and his courage almost shrivels. 

“I’m the one who should apologize. Not you. I—” He balls his hands into fists. “What I did, trying to basically out you, that wasn’t… that wasn’t okay.” 

“You didn’t know the whole situation.” 

“Did I need to? It was still fucked up and. I’m sorry. I was so wrapped up in wanting to be right that I didn’t care what it could have done to you.” 

It feels like glass coming up from his throat. 

He’s lost sleep, engraved in the ceiling all the ways he fucked up, all the times he's glad now that no one listened to him. His eyes feel hot and there’s no way in hell he’s going to fucking get emotional in front of Danny. 

“It all worked out in the end,” Danny says. He says it easy, gentle. “You were still technically right, though, so… There’s that.” 

Wes huffs. “Yeah. I guess.” He fights through all the mess. “I don’t know how this didn’t happen sooner though. You were terrible at hiding it.” 

Danny props himself up on his elbows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude, I'm a great liar.” 

Wes leans his head back on the headboard. “Sure, but you’re reckless as hell. How many times did you stick your arm through your locker in front of God and everyone?” 

Danny smiles wide and bright. 

“Honestly, after a while, it was just fun to see how far I could go before anyone noticed.” 

Wes can’t help but chuckle. “Pretty far, obviously.”  

“No kidding.” 

Wes runs his palms over his jeans. 

“You’re good though, right?” Wes looks anywhere but Danny. “At home and all that.” 

“Oh. Yeah. It was, uhm, a lot for my parents. But we’re getting there.” 

“Good… That’s good.” The words feel sharp and blocky, and he doesn’t know what else to say. What else can he say? 

His buzz pulls away from him, pulls him down, makes his lids heavy. 

“How do you think Dash is doing?” Danny says. 

“Pf. If he isn’t hugging a trashcan right now, I’ll be shocked.” 

Danny laughs. 

Wes leans over onto some of his pillows. 

“How are you this okay after drinking all that?” 

Danny shrugs. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m feeling it. My guess is something to do with the healing factor ghost shit.” 

“Right, makes sense.” 

He feels tired and heavy and the darkness at the corners of the room get fuzzier. 

“Paulina brought her own champagne glass,” Danny tells him. And he laughs because, who does that? 

He rolls onto his back and they stare at the ceiling.

“Are you kidding? Paulina does that, it’s Paulina,” Danny says. 

They stare at the ceiling like it’s not a ceiling, like it might become more than just ceiling. Wes imagines it disappearing completely.

Danny likes stars, doesn’t he? 

When Danny talks again it’s like he’s far away. An arms length, an atmosphere’s length… he doesn’t know. 

Danny says, “sucks that I’m missing the Super Smash Tournament.” 

Wes tries to keep his eyes from slipping shut. The bed pulls him like quicksand, the smell of sleep. “Trust me, dude, Kyle always wins anyway.” 

Danny says something, something about who he mains or doesn’t main. It becomes all the same, the sluggish rise and fall. 

At some point between light and dark Wes decides that he likes the sound of Danny’s voice. He somehow likes that the room is colder than it usually is. 

And maybe somewhere between all that he decides some other stuff too. 

— 

Wes wakes up before Danny. The sun streams in through a gap in his curtains, pooling on the wall and floor.

He doesn’t have a headache, but his neck hurts like hell. 

Danny is lying on his side faced away from him and, fuck, thank God. He thinks about last night, about Danny in his arms and he— 

He sits up and rubs his hands over his warm cheeks. 

Water. He should get some water. 

He slips out of his room and goes downstairs to the kitchen. The house is quiet. 

Well. 

Mostly. 

He can hear the sink running and the clink of glass. When he comes around the corner he sees Kyle washing dishes. The house is only half as trashed as he thought it’d be. 

Kyle looks up at him as he walks in. 

“Morning.” 

He grunts, going to pluck a clean glass from the drying rack. 

“Hangover?” 

“Nah. Slept wrong.” He fills his glass at the fridge and downs it all at once. The water helps wash the sour taste from his mouth. Ugh, he should still brush his teeth. 

He fills the glass again and heads back upstairs. He pushes back into his room and when the door creaks he sees Danny jump. 

He walks around the bed and offers the glass to a squinting Danny. 

“Awake?” he asks. 

Danny groans and pushes himself up. His hair is messy, hanging in his eyes. It's infuriating. 

He rubs the side of his face and when he takes the cup their fingers brush. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs. 

“We have pop-tarts and cereal and shit downstairs.” 

Danny gives him a thumbs up while he drinks. 

He wants to ask if he’s okay... He decides to leave it for later. 

Wes leaves his room and goes back to the kitchen. When he gets there, he pulls the pop-tarts down from the cabinet. 

“So, here’s what I’m thinking,” Kyle says, “if you wanna clean the dining room, I’ll clean the living room.” 

“Nope, no. This was your thing, dude. You threw the party.” 

“But Wes,” he whines, “Dad’s gonna be home tonight.” 

“Then you should probably get started,” he says and claps him on the shoulder on his way to the toaster.

“Dude, cold blooded. You’re just gonna watch me slave away for hours and not even help your own brother?” 

“Uh... yeah.” He slots the pop-tarts into the toaster. He turns towards Kyle and leans against the counter, grinning at him. 

Kyle gives him a look. 

“How much.” 

“No. No, I’m not gonna be bought this time.” 

“Twenty bucks.” 

“Kyle.”

“Fine, you drive a hard bargain. Forty.” 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“‘This time?’ What happened last time?” 

They jump and look at Danny as he comes down the stairs. He has his hoodie slung over a shoulder and the half empty water glass in his hand. 

“Holy shit,” Kyle says. 

“It’s not important,” he says, sending a glare at the back of Kyle’s head. 

Danny walks up to the counter and sets the glass down to pull his hoodie on. 

“No fucking way,” Kyle says, voice pitched up. “I didn’t believe it when everyone was talking about it last night, holy shit.” 

Danny tugs the hem of his hoodie down and gives Kyle a confused look that he moves over to Wes.

He returns the look, just as lost.

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?” 

“You two hooking up last night,” Kyle says, like it’s obvious.

It feels like for a second time stops—  

Hooking up?

Hooking up?! 

His heart skips in his chest and heat rushes to his face and the tips of his ears. He feels like he’s been slapped across the face.

Danny looks like a deer in the headlights. 

“Uh—” 

The toaster pops. 

“Which, can I just say, I totally called it. I knew there had to be another reason Wes was so obsessed with yo—” 

“Kyle!” he snaps, his voice higher than he anticipated. “Kyle, oh my fucking god, shut up. We didn’t— Nothing happened last night, we just—”  

His breath feels tight in his throat and he wants to lock himself in his room forever. He can’t make himself look at Danny. 

“Who the hell told you that-that we—” 

“Uh, dude, a bunch of people saw you guys go into your room together. You know Pualina was telling me that Danny was all over yo—”

“Okay! Thank you, Kyle!” he cuts in. “Jesus fucking—” He buries his face in his hands. 

This is it, this is how he’s going to die. 

“I’m just glad for you two! I mean, like, jeez, finally!” 

“Kyle, I’ll help you clean if you shut up right now and never bring this up ever again.” 

Kyle stops, face lighting up. “Dude, deal.” 

“Cool. Now please leave.” 

“What?” 

Wes grabs him by the arm and starts dragging him out of the kitchen. “Leave. Go get the cleaning shit from the garage or some shit, I don’t know.” 

“Oh. Ohhhh, I see. I get you. I’ll leave you two kids alone to enjoy your breakfast together,” he says with a wink and holy fuck, he’s going to kill his fucking brother.

Kyle heads for the stairs and calls down, “Lemme know when it’s safe to come back down!” 

Wes drags his hands down his face. He lets out a slow breath and he tries to ignore his pounding heart. 

Wes goes to the nearest counter and puts his head down. The surface is cold against his burning skin. He groans like an injured animal and at this point he really wishes someone would put him out of his misery. 

“Well…” Danny says from behind him.

 He hears Danny moving and the sound of the fridge being opened. He looks up, watches as Danny takes orange juice from the fridge. When he turns around he sees his face is red too. 

“I mean… hardly the worst rumor to get spread around about us,” he says. That stupid smile makes its way onto Danny’s face. 

“I once had this dude tell everyone at school that I was a ghost. It was super weird.” 

Wes shakes his head. “Dude, shut up.” But he can’t help the grin that pulls at his lips. 

Danny laughs, a quieter thing today than it was last night. 

“I can have some, right?” he asks, lifting the OJ. 

“Yeah, it’s fine.” 

They fall into silence while Danny pours a glass and Wes goes to numbly retrieve his pop-tarts. 

“It’s probably spread through all of Casper now, huh.” 

Danny glances at him. Something dances through his expression. He hums as he takes a drink of his juice. 

“Uh. Probably further than that, now that everyone knows I'm… you know.” Danny shoots him an uneasy look.

Right. Right. 

This was just getting better and better. 

He takes a bite of his pop-tart. It crumbles in his mouth like sand. 

“Are you… okay?” Danny asks. He reaches back and rubs his neck, and dammit, now he’s just adding insult to injury. 

He looks at him, and he sees the nerves in the way he holds himself, stitched into the way the light hits him. He’s not asking just one question.

Wes swallows. 

“Yeah… Yeah, I mean, like you said. There could be way worse rumors,” he says. He looks at Danny like he’s too far away, like he enjoyed last night way more than he should have. And he sees it in Danny too, some sort of mirror. 

“I think so too,” Danny says, heavy the way he exhales it. 

They break eye contact and Wes doesn’t really know what to do, what to say. 

“Well, uh. You have cleaning to do, I guess. I should probably get home before my parents get too freaked out.” 

Wes nods. “Yeah, probably.” He wonders if Danny knows what’s in his voice. The dark from last night is clouding his mind, pulling him, begging him to just say it.   

“Yeah… I’ll, uh, see you at school?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Cool.” 

But Danny doesn't move. 

He lingers like a shadow. He looks like he wants to go. He looks like he wants to stay. 

“Wes,” he says. 

Wes looks at him.  

He worries at his bottom lip and moves along the counter towards him. 

“Thanks. For last night.” 

He lets out a puff. “Well, someone had to make sure you didn’t die the rest of the way from alcohol poisoning.” 

Danny rolls his eyes. 

“I wasn’t that bad.” 

“You were pretty bad.” 

“Not even.” Danny smiles.

And they’re close again, sharing each other's space. 

“It wasn’t… awful, I guess,” he says before he can stop himself. “Even with you being a pain in the ass the entire time.” 

“Maybe we could do it again sometime,” Danny murmurs.

“What, me looking after your drunk ass the whole night?” 

Danny snorts. “No, I was thinking more like I match you drink for drink instead,” he says. 

“At least then you’d last till the Smash tournament.” 

Danny glances away. 

“I didn’t mind missing it too much, actually.” 

Wes’s breath gets stuck and his heart beats like a drum in his ribcage. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah…” 

In some ways it’s just like last night; Danny’s close enough he can feel the movement of his breath between them. 

“It’s way more fun, bothering you.” 

It’s a slow motion sort of thing, a hair raising thing. 

“Well you’re an expert at it by now.” 

Wes thinks about theme parks. Sitting at the top of the sky and just before his stomach drops—

“Always room for improvement. I could get better at it if you want me to.” 

And what if he does? What if he wants to see Danny in all the ways he can? What if he wants to know Danny for real this time?  

Maybe he wants pictures, proof that it’s real. 

Maybe it’s always been leading to this. 

Maybe it’s fucked up. 

Wes having the power to hurt him all over again. 

“Drink for drink?” he says, barely a whisper. 

“Drink for drink,” Danny says—closer, closer, breath against his lips. 

Danny gives him time to pull away. But Wes doesn’t. Something to do with what he decided last night.  

“Prove it.”

#Unidentified Flying Ship #danny/wes #Danny Phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #my writing #DP Shiptember 2021 #drunk prompt #one-shot #wes weston #wesley weston

[kdramaxoxo]

do a favourite dramas of 2021 list!

Sure thing anon! This year was a strange one (probably because the world was even more on fire than before) and there aren’t a lot of happy fluffy dramas on my list (I feel like less happy fluffy dramas were released, or maybe I was just in a year long mood?)

My Favorite K-Dramas of 2021

Run On (Romance, Slice of Life): I loved this slice of life drama about an athlete, a translator, a painter and a CEO so much that I have already rewatched it. This drama has so much to offer: Interesting and strong characters, a painter I’d die for and unique friendships. Did I mention there’s a legit ACE character? I mean... AMAZING.

Sell Your Haunted House (Fantasy, Crime, Romance?): This was one of my faves of the year! A bada*s goth hottie shaman gets rid of ghosts so that she can sell the houses. She gets a helper who she really does not want to work with but hey, that's what chemistry is made of! I was bummed by the lack of romance but really, it WAS romantic.

The Great Shaman Ga Doo Shim (Fantasy, romance, high school): This cute underrated web drama was one of my faves! High school kids (Nam Da Reum all growed up!) come together to solve murders that keep happening at their school. The special effects were highly silly but it’s lower budget so I didn’t care at all. AMAZING SOUNDTRACK and one of the cutest kisses of the year.

The Red Sleeve (Historical, Romance, Melodrama): If you want to know why Lee Junho is my bias, watch this insanely good though tragic historical drama. It’s based on a real love story between a King and his court lady and there is a ton of nuance when it comes to good and evil. It’s not an easy watch, but the acting chops of literally everyone keeps you enthralled (especially if you like saeguks). 

Light On Me (Boy’s Love): I absolutely adored this simple and sweet drama! One of my favorite korean BLs EVER! Because it’s longer than the average Korean BL, it actually has: *cues triumphant music* Character development!

You Make Me Dance (Boy’s Love): A romance between a dancer and his debt collector. It’s got some pretty traditional romance tropes but hey, for 10 minute episodes it was cute!

Beyond Evil (Crime, Mystery): This creepy drama featuring a bunch of morally grey characters follows two cops who are trying to solve a serial killer crime. Yeo Jin Goo and Shin Ha Kyun have the most intense romantic chemistry I’ve seen in a long time. 

Happiness (Horror, Romance, Action): As much as I tried to resist watching this drama (I hate zombies), the gifs won me over and I’m so glad I picked it up. A high school duo fake their marriage to get into some fancy apartments, just before a zombie outbreak. The female lead is a super strong bada*s and her man is 100% dedicated. Sure, some of the plot makes no science sense and the side characters are quite ridiculous, but the mains and their found family makes this totally worth watching. I haven’t even finished it yet but I KNOW it’s going to be one of my faves.

Hometown Cha Cha Cha (Romance, Slice of Life): I understand that there’s a lot of drama around the dating scandal of KSH and I myself have very strong feelings about it. This doesn’t take away from the fact that Hometown was an amazing wholesome drama about a dentist who moves to a small town. In fact KSH isn’t even on my list of favorite things about it: Found Family, Small town setting, Female Friendship, Soft second lead, so many amazing side characters! It would feel like I was lying if this gem didn’t make the list. 

Dali and the Cocky Prince (Rom Com): A funny and sweet romance between an art gallery owner and a wealthy restauranteur. This almost didn’t make my list because the overall plot and side characters were very annoying, but listen: Dali and Moo Hak are ICONIC. Their characters are the kind that stand out as being super unique and their pairing was so adorable! Because of them, it’s worth watching. 

My Roommate is a Gumiho (Rom Com, Romance, Fantasy): I had pretty low expectations for this drama about a Gumiho that wants to become human. But the leading ladies are a GIFT and there’s forced cohabitation which I always find super fun. Lee Dam is one of those characters I could watch forever (she’s hilarious) and the second lead lady was also amazing. This show wasn't flawless but it was super fluffy and fun. Plus the kisses were amazing and I lived for the 2nd couple.

Imitation (Rom Com, Kpop): Cute and silly k-pop drama about a failed idol group making a comeback. It wasn't popular and didn’t break any boundaries,  but I thought it was super cute and really easy to watch. The main couple was adorable.

Flower of Evil (Crime, Romance, Thriller): A psychological thriller centered around a jewelry maker who is running from his past, and his cop wife (power couple alert!)  who doesn’t know his original identity. The chemistry of the couple is amazing and all of the characters are nuanced and interesting. I was on the edge of my seat, AND sobbing! Also, I finally understand Lee Jun Ki stans, he was SO GOOD in this! Apparently I don’t know how TIME WORKS.

J-Drama Honorable Mention:

Kieta Hatsukoi (My Love Mix-Up!): An fluffy love story between a bi panicked boy and the guy he has a crush on. It was a bit cartoony but it’s sweet and fun, and how often do you see a Boy’s Love where the guy crushes on a cool female friend and then realizes he ALSO likes a guy in class? I really appreciated the nuance of that experience plus it’s pretty wholesome and fluffy.

#kdrama recommendations #kdrama #kdrama recs #it was a strange year for me and kdramas #when are we going to have another shopping king louie? #ask #i love a list

[barnesandco]

Little Hands (IV)

Series Masterlist

Communication is key.

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo 2021. Word count: 2248. Square filled: “Sung to Sleep”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: More Hydra Evilness, More Sad Child, Parental Anxieties. Brief mentions of war, sickness, death, grief. 

A/N: I know 2.2k words isn’t objectively a lot but boy did this feel like it. I hope every word is worth it and that you enjoy! Lmk what you think!!! Also I won’t even lie, the idea of Steve’s kids is 100% from one of my favorite comfort fics, family means no one gets left behind or forgotten, by the genius, the wonderful cosmicocean. IT’S SO SOFT. Pls read it.

You’re stunned when Bucky tells you what’s going on. The idea that his daughter (?) was made in a lab like some kind of experiment, and that the man who led said experiment now wants her back like she is his property, his weapon, is too horrid to consider for very long. Weaponizing an innocent child. Hydra.

Bucky gave you the broad strokes of the investigation – currently running on little more than educated guesses based on the meagre intel they have – and has let you know that he has had to recuse himself from the case, due to his… personal connection. That leaves him somewhere he finds awkward, to say the least.

It's evident in the way the corners of his lips turn down, how he is constantly rubbing the pads of his fingers against the coarse scratch of denim, while he watches Ana watch Zoya, Steve’s 17-year-old daughter, working on a tablet. Zoya tucks a strand of hair behind her hijab, then continues to draw up a storyboard, narrating the events to the younger girl. Steve had apparently forgotten the lunch his kids had made him at home, so Zoya had brought it in, and decided to stay the day.

Ana’s quiet, attentive for the most part, listening with her full capabilities, but her eyes flit away from the screen every now and then to look at you and Bucky, as if to reassure herself that you’re still there.

Besides that, there aren’t all that many distractions present for an already precocious child. Most of the team has dispersed for the investigation, with the exception of Peter, who is sat at a table in the corner making intentionally fruitless efforts at teaching Morgan chess, while she giggles and tries to stack the pieces like Jenga blocks instead.

However, Bucky’s restlessness is infectious, and you think he needs to get it under check before it grows any further. That’s why you stand, saying, “Could we go for a little walk, Bucky?”

He nods, man of few words that he is, and leads the way. You’re sure he knows that you formulated it like a request for his benefit, but he doesn’t mention it. It’s just as well ��� that he knows you like that, and knows when to accept the proverbial hand being offered.

Bucky takes you to a corner of the roof that you’d mistake for a community garden if you didn’t know any better. The Avengers seem to have green thumbs, or at least, a significant portion of them do. They’re good with plants, and possessive about them, too. Autumn ferns grow outside the circle they seem to have been planted in – with a sign shouting Wanda! – to invade the territory of a vegetable garden labelled Bruce (accompanied by a Hulkish, green thumbs up presumably not drawn by the man himself).  

Meticulously maintained daylilies and columbines, in vivid reds and vibrant purples, litter the edges of the path that has been carved through this little paradise, and the birdhouses between them stake the claim of the owner more effectively than a neon sign screaming Sam Wilson. Bucky’s told you about his abilities, how they veer into the decidedly supernatural but Sam insists are only the residue of a childhood with homing pigeons.

Nothing here looks like Bucky’s, though. He seems to be taking it in, perhaps thinking about his own little paradise back in the city, and how he’s chosen to keep it distant from that of his teammates. That worries you. He worries you.

And this, the situation with Anastasia, becoming a father, it’s terrifying. Hell, if it scares you this much, how is he feeling? You ask him as much.

“Bucky, are you okay?”

He laughs, softly, disbelievingly, no malice in his scoff, only fear. Only the sound of a voice saturated with consternation and total, complete anxiety. “Would you be?” He asks back.

“That’s why I’m asking.”

Bucky evades the questions, turning first one way on the path, and then the other, approaching the edge clear of shrubbery and blooms alike, resting his palms on the top of the wall.

“I can’t be a father.”

The solemnity in his tone allows no room for negotiations, but then, neither do the facts. “You are,” you reply, somewhat hesitantly, because the technicalities of how Ana came to be are still a little blurry to you. She’s far from a normal child, and not quite a clone, either. She is of Bucky, though. His, in any way that counts.

“That little girl was created in a Hydra lab as a super soldier to serve the cause,” he says, shaking his head vigorously as the cause repulses him even more than it does you. “And who knows what else she was put through before SHIELD fell and Orlov got her out, and it’s my fault.”

“You didn’t—”

“I didn’t ask for it to happen but it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t happened. They used me to make a super soldier from scratch, and now I’m supposed to raise her? It’s not that simple. I’m not Steve. I can’t…”

Being honest, you feel you’re pretty far out of your depth here. But you’ve promised him your help, and you’ll do your best.

“You don’t have to. There are other options.” You’re sure you’re overstepping. Perhaps this gentle companionship has not yet reached the point where you can give advice on parenting. But if you don’t, who will? Steve, whose answers don’t enter the gray territory Bucky’s mind is residing in right now, who parents like he was born for it?

Steve chose fatherhood. Bucky has been nailed to it like it’s a new cross to bear, heavier than all the previous ones put together.

His gaze roams the grounds that stretch as far as you can see. You’re both far away from home right now, far outside your comfort zones.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess, sweetheart. It’s not right. You have things to do, and I shouldn’t have—”

“Bucky, I’ve been staring at the same four sentences of dialogue for the past month. I literally could not have been happier to get out of the house. Even if I do wish it was under better circumstances,” you say fervently. You’re here because he needs you. Because Ana needs you. It’s nice to be needed.

“That’s one way to put it,” he smiles, and you’re glad to see it.

“Not to mention, it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault except whoever your team is looking for,” you insist. “And Ana’s a sweet girl. A little quiet, but Baba says I was, too.”

This, Bucky thinks about. You wonder if he was a quiet child, too. “What’s he like?”

“Hmm?” The reverie snaps like a rubber band.

“Your father?” Bucky asks, shyly, his eyes meeting yours, letting you know exactly why he’s asking.

You look up at the clouds, think back to Boston, to time shared between the library and the park. A childhood with books, lunch breaks under a desk in an office at MIT, stealing his glasses and running away with them, rubbing at his stubbly beard like he was a housecat. Inside jokes with your father and rolled eyes with your mother. Laughter and tears, laughter with tears.

After a long while, trying and failing to summarize your father, you say, “A jokester. The most sarcastic person I know. But still kind of neurotic, to be honest. The kind of parent that makes you show up at the airport a full four hours before your flight.” It’s grossly insufficient. For a writer, you’re not very good with words. You suppose it’s not the words that are the problem; it’s the lifetime they have to encompass. “What about yours?”

Bucky sighs. “Soldier. He’s one thing I don’t feel bad for not remembering because it wasn’t Hydra that wiped those memories. He just died when I was really small. Survived the Great War only to be killed by TB a few years later at home.”

“I’m sorry.” You avert your eyes. Grief feels private, even decades later, even in the smallest doses.

He shakes his head, smiles fondly, up at the sky, too, like you did. Only, he’s smiling at it, like he’s thinking of someone beyond the clouds. “Don’t be. Was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t allowed to hurt anymore.”

“You sound like my therapist.”

“I sound like my therapist.”

At this, the two of you look at each other and burst into laughter. It feels forbidden, as though the severity of the situation condemns joy. That isn’t fair, you think. The situation is that of a child, and nobody needs laughter more than kids do. Food for the soul.

When the echo of your exhilarations falls, Bucky grows serious once more. “They have them for kids, now, too, right?” He asks, referring to therapists. “Do you think Anastasia should see one? She’s not exactly… normal, you know?”

“Maybe.” It’s a difficult question, but a good indicator of how Bucky is growing to feel about Ana. “You’d make a good dad, if you wanted to be one, Bucky,” you say, and mean it. It’s plain as day that he cares about her.

“I can’t even remember my own.”

“Parental instincts are intuitive, not genetic,” you tell him.

“You been reading handbooks?” He teases.

“You’d be surprised by how much you learn from the rabbit holes you fall down while researching books,” you deadpan.

“Can any of that research get the nightmares out of my head? I think it might scare a kid.”

The self-deprecation hurts, but your response is honest, heartfelt. “She likes you already.”

“She won’t if she thinks I’ve run away,” he answers, straightening up. He might be trying to evade the conversation, but you’ll let him, for now. He’s gotten some fresh air, had some time to clear his thoughts, or sort them, at least. And so you return, to the little girl who has a tighter grip on both of you than you even realize.

------

Ana grows unsettled as night darkens the sky. It could be the ruckus she isn’t quite used to. It could be the toy fire truck Tony has been altering with his utensils to increase its noise output, much to Morgan’s amusement. It could be the actual parrot perched on Sam’s shoulder.

Whatever the cause, she hasn’t succumbed to it enough to make a seat out of the fridge again. She’s sitting in her seat, between Bucky and yourself, eating the hummus Bruce and Wanda have made. Nat discusses sniper scopes with Clint, Peter tries to get away with eating the side of vegetables on Jordan’s plate without Steve noticing, and Bucky eats silently, eyes almost constantly on Anastasia, who takes it all in while her knee bounces up and down with an ever-increasing speed, much like her father’s.

You excuse yourselves soon after dessert, after Morgan has fallen asleep against Jordan’s arm on the couch, and Steve and Tony’s friendly debate is starting to develop the edge it tends to when they’ve been bantering for too long.

Bucky sets up on the sectional in his room, and leaves the ridiculously large double bed to you and Anastasia. It’s been a strange, strange day, and one can only hope that tomorrow brings some ease, a balm for the prickly, fiery ache that has settled over the man you care so much about.

------

When you wake, it’s because of singing. For half a moment, you think you’re in a dream, but as your eyes adjust to the blanket of dark, you see the shadow on the sofa nearby. Only, it’s bigger than just Bucky. Anastasia is sitting on his lap, her head cushioned against his chest. Scrambling for your glasses, and turning on the lamp on the bedside table, you notice that there are trails of drying tears on her little cheeks, and she’s still shaking with the aftershocks of whatever scare she must’ve had during the night.

Not for the first time, you curse your deep sleep that meant you didn’t wake with Ana, but watch in wonder as Bucky sings.

Hush, little baby, don't say a word Papa's going to buy you a mockingbird

And if that mockingbird won't sing Papa's going to buy you a diamond ring

Ana’s eyes begin to close, but she fights the sleep. Bucky doesn’t let her. He lies down, easing her down beside himself, singing all the while.

And if that diamond ring turns brass Papa's going to buy you a looking glass

And if that looking glass gets broke Papa's going to buy you a billy goat

His voice fills the room, low though it may be, and he curls himself around Ana.

And if that billy goat won't pull Papa's going to buy you a cart and bull

And if that cart and bull turn over Papa's going to buy you a dog named Rover

She succumbs to the lull of his tone, his song, his promises, sighs a little sigh, lets the last, little hiccup leave her body.

And if that dog named Rover won't bark Papa's going to buy you a horse and cart

And if that horse and cart fall down You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town

Bucky lifts his hand from where it was stroking the hair at her temple, and lays his arm over his daughter. They’re safe, for now. Together.

#SSB2021 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #dad!bucky barnes #mcu #marvel #marvel fanfic

[voskhozhdeniye]

Musical Obsessions 2021

100 gecs: 1000 gecs

Adele’s My Little Love

Aesop Rock: Spirit World Field Guide*

Akkad The Orphic Priest: Once I Was As You Are Now

Alice Coltrane, lots of Alice Coltrane.

The Angelic Process, lots of The Angelic Process.

Antarctica: 23:03 & 81:03*

Art of Noise’s Moments in Love

Belong’s A Walk & Make Me Return

Black Belt Eagle Scout: Mother of My Children & Loss & Relax*

Boards of Canada’s Chromakey Dreamcoat

Body of Light: Time To Kill

The Body’s The City Is Shelled

Bohren & Der Club Of Gore‘s On Demon Wings

Cameron Knowler & Eli Winter: Anticipation

Chelsea Wolfe‘s We Hit a Wall, Moses & Pale On Pale

Chris Pureka, lots of Chris Pureka.

Citizen: Life In Your Glass World

City Girls’ Twerkulator*

Coil: Musick to Play in the Dark & Further Back And Faster*

Cranes‘ Clear

Dax Pierson: Nerve Bumps (A Queer Divine Dissatisfaction)

The Daysleepers‘ Dream Within A Dreamworld & Flood in Heaven

DIIV, lots of DIIV*

Doja Cat's Streets*

EL-P‘s Stepfather Factory

Emeka Ogboh: Beyond The Yellow Haze

Fiddlehead‘s Joyboy

The Field, lots of The Field

FKA twigs: M3LL155X

Floating Points, Pharoah Sanders & TLSO: Promises

Flying Saucer Attack, lots of Flying Saucer Attack

Gnod, lots of Gnod*

Godspeed You! Black Emperor: G_d’s Pee AT STATE’S END!

HOME: Odyssey

Hum: Inlet

I Am A Lake Of Burning Orchids, all of their shit.

Jana Rush‘s Disturbed & Disorientation

Jarguna: A Peaceful Granular Day

Jay Som: Anak Ko

Jazmine Sullivan’s Pick Up Your Feelings

Jeremy Nattagh‘s Cosmofiction

Jessica Moss: Phosphenes

Les Filles de Illighadad: At Pioneer Works

Light Asylum‘s Heart of Dust

Louie Zong‘s lavender town

Love Spirals Downwards, lots of Love Spirals Downwards.

Lovesliescrushing, lots of Lovesliescrushing.

LSD and the Search for God‘s Starting Over

Mario Batkovic: INTROSPECTIO

Melodyguild‘s Un parallel

Muqata'a‘s Dirasat 'Ulya

Okada: Life is But An Empty Dream

Ova Looven: 58:34 & Gravity Has Expired

Pan Daijing: Jade

A Place To Bury Strangers‘ The Falling Sun

Rachika Nayar: Our Hands Against The Dusk

SAULT‘s Fear

Sex Swing’s Karnak and Nighttime Worker

Shackleton: Departing Like Rivers

Sonic Youth, lots of Sonic Youth

SOPHIE: OIL OF EVERY PEARL'S UN-INSIDES*

Sweet Trip‘s Air Supply

Swirl’s Nightmares & Kaleidoscope

Swoon 23′s Cellophane

Tamaryn‘s I Won’t Be Found

Tim Story: Threads

TYGAPAW: Get Free

Venetian Snares: Rossz Csillag Alatt Született

The Wednesday Night‘s Million Little Pieces & I Can't See In The Morning

Wild Nothing’s Summer Holiday

TWIABPAIANLATD: Illusory Walls

Yellow Swans: EVERYTHING*

ylva trax: LYV 2

ゆらゆら帝国‘s ユラユラウゴク & Evil Car

Bold and italicized indicates a favorite released this year.

I really like all of those bold albums for completely different reasons. They all satisfy different moods and emotions. If I had to choose a favorite, I’d probably go with Our Hands Against The Dusk, it’s incredibly gorgeous. I really like Beyond The Yellow Haze, INTROSPECTIO and Departing Like Rivers too. INTROSPECTIO was the most surprising to me. It goes above and beyond what I was expecting compared to his previous album.

My taste in music is changing in a really major way. This was the year of noise, drone, shoegaze and dream pop. I’ve been into those for a while now, but I really went in this year. I think the last time I really had a major shift of this magnitude was around a decade ago. That’s when I was really getting into Tom Waits, Death Grips were starting to gain steam, GY!BE had destroyed my ideas of what music could be in 2007, and ‘70s Miles Davis and Swans were about to push that even further.

Aesop Rock: That came out late last year, and I never got around to listening to it. He keeps getting better. Aesop consistently has songs that will make me laugh one minute, and then self isolate for a month the next. There are times when it feels like he is a little too open with his struggles, but that’s what makes it special. Getting to hear his evolution as both a rapper and producer over the last decade has been a joy.

Antarctica: Thank you @anarchist-caravan the EP is interesting because you can hear them putting things together. It all comes together on the album in an astonishing way.

Black Belt Eagle Scout: I picked up her first album early in the year after being floored by the second last year. I wrote a post during the summer where I talked about how her music accesses an emotional plain that I feel is inaccessible to me. I am really quite taken by this woman. Her second album is my most listened to album this year.

City Girls: That sample is so fucking perfect. Just yes, yes, YES!

Coil: I have known about Coil for well over a decade, and have jumped around their ‘80s and late era output here and there for a few years now. I finally started digging into the ‘90s stuff. I like the ‘80 stuff, I enjoy the late stuff, but wow at the ‘90s stuff. I don’t know why I’m so surprised, my introduction to them were the ‘90s Nine Inch Nails remixes I love so much.

DIIV: Is The Is Are is becoming one of my favorite albums, period, F#A# level.

Doja Cat: I do not like her as a rapper. I don’t think I ever will, but goddamn she fucking kills those pop songs. I had Say So on last year’s list, but I like Streets more.

Gnod: I don’t remember how I came across them, but yes! I’m enjoying their older stuff more, but I’ve loved everything I’ve listened to from them. The newer stuff sounds like early Swans. It doesn’t have the sheer terror/rage early Swans has, but who does?

SOPHIE: :(

Yellow Swans: I think after I started listening to Gnod, Last.fm recommended me Yellow Swans. In years past, I used to label something I’d come across as “this is what I’ve been looking for.” When I say that this is what I’ve been looking for, I mean THIS SHIT RIGHT HERE! GY!BE in 2007, DJ Shadow and Slowdive in 2009, ‘70′s Miles Davis and Swans in 2010, Wild Nothing’s Nocturne in the mid 2010′s, R Beny and Gas in the late 2010′s, and now this. I like their earlier stuff, particularly Dosed, which has me looking at the the TR-8S and Eurorack like “we have to try this!” But the later stuff, At All Ends, Drowner, Deterioration, Mort Aux Vaches, Going Places and Being There have rearranged my DNA.

I’ve decided that 2022 is the year I sit down and really dig into jazz again. I really want to go back and explore the more experimental side of jazz. Go well beyond Miles, John, Alice, Ornette, Sun Ra and so on.

Special thanks to @anarchist-caravan @knightofleo @the-inevitable-minor-fires and @zombimanos for your recommendations throughout the year. I also look forward to hearing new music from you guys.

Last year’s list

[burning-clutch]

Shielded From The Truth

Cross posted on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30441042 -.-.-.-.- Warnings: Mild wounds. Number two in the phic phight! When his parents put a shield up around Casper high to keep the ghosts out, and it means that Danny’s day hardly goes to plan. And he was so close to being on time for once too…. PHIC PHIGHT 2021 For team ghost! -.-.-.-.-.- Prompt by: Silverwing013 Danny's parents have kindly offered to set up a ghost shield generator for Casper High. Hijinks ensue as Danny attempts to handle the situation. 

-.-.-.-.-.-

Danny groaned as he only half listened to his parents rattle off whatever ghost nonsense they were going on about as he ate his breakfast. A bowl of dry cereal because the milk was contaminated and he really didn’t want to chance it giving him more than a stomach ache. This had become the norm this week it seemed as his parents seemed invested more than usual into the ghost shields that they had been working on and improving.

Why only shields? They would be installing one in the school soon… but beyond that? He wasn’t sure. They probably told him, sure, but being a teenager and one that had parents that hated half of him, had the effect of making him only lightly listen to the weapons and things that were meant to fully kill him off. That and at least the ghost shields weren’t usually a hindrance to him, in fact, they had proven themselves useful on a few occasions.

Plus he had the added advantage of being able to simply return to his human form and slip through the shield with little issue. Given his parents had no knowledge of half ghosts existing, at least he hoped not, they shouldn’t be designing a ghost and human shield. After all, that would defeat the purpose, right? It wasn’t as if Amity really had any human threats anymore.

Well, regardless of the eccentricities of his parents he could at least take some comfort in the fact that Skulker couldn’t simply attack the school to get to him any longer.

Small mercies he supposed.

Danny blinked as his father said something to him before slapping him on his back causing the teen to practically choke on his cereal from the force of the smack. “Isn’t that just great Dann-o?” the large man exclaimed happily before looking at his son expectantly. Oh great, he wanted him to ask something? Great.

“S-Sure” Danny choked out as he flailed, grabbing in front of him for the orange juice he had nabbed from the fridge, it thankfully hadn’t been in there long enough to start glowing… yet…

He shook his head as he finally got his breath back without inhaling dry cereal pieces into his lungs. When he was sure he wasn’t going to sound like some dollar store squeaky toy he tried to ask his parents a question, always a dreadful time if he were honest, but hey, he would usually be late for school anyway.

“So this will go around the whole school?” Danny tried weakly.

“Yep! And the best part is it’ll sense where there's an evil ectoplasmic entity nearby and spring up instantly! We made sure there won’t be a ghost within Twenty feet of the school before that puppy jumps up to the rescue! Like a big Fenton airbag!” Jack exclaimed all too enthusiastically for what the current time in the AM should allow a normal person to exhume.

Danny hummed noncommittally and sent a glance of ‘help me’ to his sister, who, in turn, rolled her eyes at her little brother. “And the shield even uses the ghost’s power to run the shield right?” Jazz asked side eyeing her father from her own spot not wanting to fully engage in the conversation they were having.

“Oh, yea! That’s the best part!” Jack practically cheered out.

“And the stronger the evil skum is the faster the shield will react and sooner it will be picked up. It will only go off on a level three or higher.” Maddie explained with a pleasant smile as she sips at her coffee.

“And we got it all finished last night to be ready for you kids today” Jack added happily.

“Hooray, more fun on a Monday” Danny sighed out into his last bites of cereal. Jazz snorted but didn’t comment, though Danny blew her a childish raspberry.

Jack continued to go on about the more intricate details of the shield they had put up though only one thing really caught his attention in the spiel, “-And Vladdie helped with the funding to outfit the school! Even helped us get the materials we needed to make such a large shield!”

“Ah, there it is…” Danny groaned letting his head fall forward onto the table in instant defeat.

“Danny! I really wish you would learn not to stay up so late playing video games! Look at you! If I get another call from one of your teachers about you sleeping in class-” Maddie started only for Danny to cut her off jumping to his feet.

“Yep! Thanks for that, mom! Look at the time! Love you bye!” Danny prattled off quick as could be before grabbing his book bag by his feet and bolting like a scared rabbit. After all, if his mother never finished that sentence when he inevitably fell asleep he couldn’t be grounded… she never officially gave him the last warning…

That’ll work, right?

It wasn’t long when he was out of the house that he was at his usual waiting spot for Sam and Tucker. Unsurprisingly, Sam got there first though they didn't have to wait long for Tucker to lumber forward, half asleep to his friends, and together they made their way towards the school as a unit.

Things seemed well enough until he got onto the stairs leading up to the main doors. That was when all hell broke loose. A deep alarm sounded before his father’s voice rang out from the speakers, in his over the top cheery way that only Jack Fenton knew how to pull off.

“Attention kids! Guess there’s an evil spook nearby so we’re deploying the shield! This ghost protection was brought to you by Fenton-works and sponsored by your mayor!”

Danny frowned. “My ghost sense didn’t go off…” He mentioned quietly to his friends.

“Maybe the shield sensors are more sensitive than you are?” Tucker asked with a frown.

“Since when?” Sam argued incredulously.

“Well who or whatever it is, it isn’t bothering me right now and no one’s screaming, no one’s panicking, so it can wait. I’m actually going to be on time for once!” Danny says waving the notion off.

He continues his trek up the stairs and towards the doors of the school, though when he reaches the threshold of the shield he finds himself having to really push hard against the thing. It was like hitting a wall of foam or Jell-O. He could push through if he pressed hard enough but it was not pleasant or as easy as going through the air.

Once through the initial shield wall, he blinked slowly feeling sluggish and as though all his limbs were moving through water. He even sort of felt like he was having to ‘swim’ as he walked like he was both heavier and lighter than he should be, but unable to find that buoyancy happy middle ground.

“Dude…” Tucker said smartly as he frowned at his friend’s almost slow motion, yet stop motion like movements. It was eerie, to say the least, not to mention the more pressing issue that he noticed right off the hop, “Your eyes are shining, man. And your, um… Neck...”

Sam, ever prepared for whatever bull their lives seem to throw their way, slipped her bag around to her front and offered Danny a pair of sunglasses, which the halfa put on promptly, along with the spider webbed patterned black and silver scarf.  “I mean, it’s better,” Sam argued, not even giving Tucker's look of disapproval her full attention.

“They’re spider glasses.” The boy states with a shake of his head. “Not really digging the whole-” Tucker waved his arm about Danny’s head in little circles, “-pseudo goth thing” he finished finally. Though he had to admit it was at least marginally better than seeing his friend’s glowing eyes and the electric scars showing up on his neck and disappearing under his shirt collar.

“Better?” Danny asked out sluggish, his voice almost sounding like it was being drawn out on a tape deck that was starting to lack battery power and not playing at quite the proper speed making the pitch and timing slower and lower.

Sam and Tucker shared a look before offering a thumbs up to their friend, both deciding it better not to address… whatever that was… The look they shared between one another spoke of their mutual hope that this would perhaps be one of those problems that simply go away on its own.

Ignoring the problems they have usually makes it go away… Yeah, that always works out.  

Danny makes a grab for the door to pull it open again, having that weird slow stop motion effect, like he was flickering between blinks rather than making a smooth motion forward. “Ehm, maybe don’t move around too much man… it’s um… creeping me out.” Tucker offers helpfully.

“Huh?” it took Danny a minute to process, as while he looked slow to them they seemed to be hyped up on caffeine to him… “Why are you talking so fast?” He wondered, his head almost appearing to glitch into a tilted and confused look.

“I think the ghost shield is making you go all slow motion. Just stop talking.” Sam says forcefully before letting out a shudder of her own.

Sam and Tucker share a glance before they each grab onto one of Danny’s arms and half drag him off to his locker. Despite his friends’ efforts he still got many looks shot his way, and a couple of people started whispering to one another as he passed by them.

“How is this going to work if I’m already weirding everyone out?” Danny asked, voice still sounding like a slowed record as he blinked sluggishly and his head jerked almost unsteadily from side to side. From his perspective, everyone was speeding along and talking at 1.5 times the normal speed.

“Maybe I should look for the ghost that triggered this, maybe Tuck, can you look into this mess?” Danny asked after a moment of trying to figure out what was being said around him through the noise of the hall.

“Yeah that might be best…” Sam responded shifting from leg to leg as she locks eyes with a basketball jock who was staring at their group incredulously.

“I got you, man, I’ll change everything to present and, block any ‘call home’ recommendations.” Tucker pipped up already pulling out his PDA to set that up preemptively.

Danny nodded and let out a hum before glitching his way out the nearest exit and out of the shield’s bounds. Once he slipped back out through the barrier, strangely enough, a harder feat than it was getting in, but that wasn’t a problem he wanted to focus on, he already blamed Vlad so he would simply continue to do so until the fruitloop showed himself.

As soon as he was through the green line of the shield Danny practically fell forward in relief. That stifling feeling now gone from his core and bones making his movements fluid and normal, well as normal as a clumsy half ghost could be anyhow…

It was a moot point and not one Danny wanted to think on too long. He gave a quick “thanks” to his friends, before diving between the dumpster and the school’s bricks, transforming into his ghostly alter ego and taking off into the sky. He would do a few laps around the school and city as he looks for whatever ghost set off the shield.

-BREAK-

It wasn’t until lunchtime Danny returned looking much more windswept and all around more miserable. He entered the courtyard through the side joining his friends out on the picnic table they had claimed.  He made it over to them, flopped down on the bench next to tucker with a groan before his head smacked into the table before him.

“You find them?” Tucker asked around whatever horrid monstrosity of a sandwich he was eating, spewing bits of half chewed bred at Danny’s head.

“No” Came the muffled reply, filled with tired disdain.

“No ghost sense?” Sam wandered, flicking the bits of bread from Danny’s raven hair and back towards Tucker.

��No”

“Huh… You think it was you who set off the shield?”  Sam wondered with a thoughtful frown.

“When I went into the back end of the generator though it wasn’t supposed to go off for anything that low, Danny in human form is like a two at best,” Tucker argued spinning his PDA around to show what he’d found when he hacked into the motherboard of the Fenton’s latest device.

Danny groaned. He supposed had he listened to his parents he could have been more prepared for whatever lunacy his parents’ decided to toss his way but alas, his short attention span and teenage rebellion and lack of caring got the best of him yet again.

Joyous of joys.

He tuned out his friend’s back and forthing for a bit, wondering if he could get away with smashing the device as Phantom when Tucker had his a-ha moment of discovery. Danny turned his head and raised a brow at his friend who was furiously typing away at his device.

“You were right about Vlad, Sam”

“Naturally,” She agreed.

“Well, he had an over right line here specifically set for Phantom’s ecto- signature,” the boy states running his finger along the line of code he’d found in the program.

Danny’s mood instantly brightened at that. “So then we just get rid of that bit right? And BAM everything’s fine?” He asked. “Man, what happened to me? Why do I want to get into the school again?”

“To keep up the illusion of normalcy on this mortal plane.” Sam supplied stabbing at her salad a little more forcefully than she probably needed to.

“Eh, yeah, I suppose.” Danny agreed with a lacklustre shrug.

“There, that should do it” Tucker spoke, interrupting whatever tangent Sam was getting ready to spew off about how normalcy was only an illusion created by corporations or some other such thing.

“And just in time The bell just rang,” Danny says with a small grin clasping a firm hand onto his friend’s shoulder. “Nice one Tucker!” he cheered as the trio made their way over to the doors that would lead them back into the cafeteria.

Unfortunately, as soon as Danny’s hand hit the door handle the shield once again sprung to life, though this time, instead of simply having a hard time passing through the shield, he was thrown back across the field earning a cry from several students who were following the trio.  

“Grapes of wrath Mister Fenton!” Lancer, (of course it was Lancer) shouted out in worry, his shout even carrying over the prerecorded message containing his father’s voice. Lancer half jogged half waddled over to Danny who blinked up blearily to his teacher, eyes flashing green for the briefest of seconds before draining back to blue.

“Leave it to Fen-turd to get himself possessed.” Dash snorted from behind the pot bellied teacher earning a few nervous glances between the small crowd of gathering students. The mutterings of the students didn’t take long to start up after that.

“I’m not possessed,” Danny argued, though, it was rather hard to make said argument when the palm of his hand was burned and leaking ectoplasm from where he had touched the door.

“Course he’s not possessed! He’s a ghost himself!” Wes shouted pointing an accusatory finger at the youngest Fenton.

Danny glared. “Not the time Westly.” He muttered under his breath as he was hauled to his feet by his friends. He tried to brush himself off only to end up smearing the ectoplasm from his hand onto his jeans, leaving a luminescent streak across his thigh.

Seeing his chance the ginger jock was all too eager to point it out. “See look! He’s bleeding ectoplasm!”

“No, I’m not! It’s from the shield! it sputtered out at me.” Danny tried to protest, though even in his own ears it sounded like a weak argument.

“Really?” Wes argued and marched over to the shimmering shield. The teen waved his arms about freely in the shield’s range hopping back and forth pointedly across the line of the barrier before showing his hands and clothes were completely clean of any glowing goo. “See! Ghost!” he accused again after he did a little pirouette to show his lack of ectoplasm.

“Yeah? Well, it sputtered at Danny only ‘cuz it turned on with him in the threshold.” Sam tried to argue back glaring at the ginger, venom in her gaze.

“Well then, why don’t you just walk through the shield Fen-toad?” Dash said with a smarmy grin, ever eager to get his own jabs in and seemingly not wanting to be outshined by the ginger conspiracy theorist’s bullying of his favourite punching bag.

“Fine” He spat back bitterly and marched up to the shield with a huff.

Sam and Tucker exchange a glance with one another as Danny presses his hand into the shield again. Thankfully this time there wasn’t anything that blows him back but he also really had to try and push through the shield.  

Danny could see out of the corner of his eye Wes’s smug grin as he grunts and does his best to push through the shield. His persistence is rewarded and he falls to the ground on the other side jumping up and giving a quick ‘HA!’ as he faces the small gathering crowd of students shifting uncomfortably just beyond the shield.

Sam had a look of exasperation and she looked like she was trying to restrain herself from face palming. Tucker on the other hand had no such restraint. He was almost over eager to bury his face into his hands.

From Danny’s perspective, he simply smacked into the ground and stood back up, but from the other students’ perspectives, Danny fell into the shield but instantly slowed down, looking as though he were falling with the moon’s gravity rather than the earthly speed everyone was used to. It also didn’t really look to them like he had hit the ground, instead glitching his body back into an upright position before cheering in that low slow motion state as he had earlier.

And if that wasn’t damning enough his eyes were glowing a lovely shade of ectoplasmic green.

Wes smirked, seemingly very smug and content with himself and this development. “See told you all he was a ghost!”

“T-that’s enough Mister Weston… Right…” LAncer muttered to himself a few moments watching as Danny seemed to glitch about as he cheered before seemingly realizing something was wrong. “I think there was a procedure to depossess a student…I bet the teachers in Bridgestone don’t have to exercise their students in this manner…” He complains. Sure they had gym class and he would appreciate the pun and irony if he wasn’t so tired.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” he muttered, ignoring the look of panic that spread across Danny’s face.

It took some doing, a lot of flailing limbs and pressing himself against the damn shield, but Danny soon was through back out and free. His eyes still glowed brightly as he stared at his classmates looking very much like a deer in the headlights. Eyeshine and all might he add.

A few of the students were snickering, because only in Amity park could one get possessed by a ghost and have it come across as though someone had merely said something embarrassing or misheard an instruction and was now staring blankly ahead.

“Er….” Danny stared at his classmates half panicked before simply vanishing from view.

“Moby Dick!” Lancer exclaimed, almost dropping the book he was thumbing through from the Fenton parents. Sure it was a ghost, and could potentially be dangerous, but it wasn’t attacking so there wasn’t really anyone panicking.

Instead, the teacher simply felt tired. “Right, I’ll call the Fentons and let them deal with this, Everyone back inside I do believe the lunch bell rang already!” the teacher called out shooing the students into dispersing.

Danny stood there invisibly and holding strong as he internally groaned. At least they thought he was possessed, that could be easily explained away but he was not looking forward to trying to explain it to his parents…

Still maybe if he gets ahead of this…

It was with that thought in mind that he bolted away into the treeline beside the school, transformed and headed off to his home landing in his bedroom only a few minutes later. He went human, back intangible and invisible came out the door, made sure the coast was clear before speeding his way down into the basement.

He just made it down the stairs startling his mother and father who blinked at him curiously, when the phone rang cutting off his mother’s “Honey? What are you doing home so soon?”

“It’s the school calling Mads,” Jack says, sounding disappointed as the large man sent a look of disapproval to his boy.

“Wait!” Danny jumped forward answering the phone and instantly hanging it up.

“Daniel!” His mother exclaimed abashedly.

“I wanna explain first! Do you know how all your stuff goes off on me? Well, the shield at school started doing that and they think I’m possessed! I’m not, it's just the… ya know…” Danny rambled off hurriedly hoping against hope that his parents wouldn’t try to send him to decontamination … again… (Thanks to his ghost half, it burned in places he didn’t ever want to burn)

“You’re possessed Dann-o?!” Jack exclaimed instantly pulling a Fenton gun from somewhere on his person and brandishing it towards his son.

Danny threw his hands up and waved them placatingly at his father. “NO! Just the normal stuff! The contamination from the portal accident set it off. I got too close to the sensor!” He says quickly ignoring how his parents seem to flinch slightly.

His parents shared a look before his father seemed to deflate, seemingly upset at the fact his son wasn’t possessed. “I thought we fixed that... “ Jack says with a frown. “But, we can’t let the school know we may have messed it up! I know we’ll just run the tests again and fix it in the night!”  

“Yeah, that would be- Wait what?” Danny blinks. Why couldn’t they just go down and fix it normally? Of course, his parents had to be weird about this too. “Thanks… Is there anything you need from me to help?”

And with those words said he almost instantly regretted it. “Well… We would really like to know why your ecto signature lines up perfectly with Phantom’s but perhaps that can wait.” Maddie offered with a small amused smile.

Danny sputtered at that, “Wh-What?”

“We set up a monitoring system so we can tell which ghosts most frequent the school… Phantom was the one that triggered the shield twice today. There actually wasn’t anything else that did,” Maddie explained with a deepening frown.

“You sure you’re not possessed, son?” Jack asked again this time sounding almost defeated in how, well, normal a volume he asked that. The hidden meaning was all too obvious especially after he mentioned his accident…

They thought he was dead! The portal killed him! And as the growing pit of dread grew into Danny’s stomach he couldn’t help but feel awful knowing they were correct in that assumption, well at least half right anyhow.

“Yeah… I’m… I’m me…” Danny managed out his voice cracking

“O-oh hun....” Maddie sniffed.

“But it’s not I… I’m me, I promise and I’m not all dead. I still have a heartbeat and everything!” Danny argued or rather tried to as his mother was quick to kneel before him taking his face in her hands as tears bubbled down her chin.

“Mom really I’m like … half at most. More human with a side of ghostly abilities ya know?”

“Oh, it’s okay Dann-o… You're still my son, I know ya are. It’s been almost a year since that accident and you’re mostly still you.” Jack said. “Just worse grades and more hormones and-”

“Thanks, guys really,” Danny sighed in relief both at dodging the potentially awkward birds and ghostly bees talk as well as the tepid acceptance he was getting. Awkward though it may be it was still acceptance nonetheless.  He was happy for it just the same.

“Maybe while we work on fixing up the shield to ignore Phantom’s signature you can tell us about some things?” Maddie asked sniffling again as she looked over her son’s face trying her best to hold herself together and not outright bawl at the thought she had killed her youngest child.

“Y-yeah… I’ve been wanting to tell you about this for a while now but, well, ya know…” Danny offered uselessly.

“I think it’s us who should apologize for that, son but maybe we can just all go get some triple chocolate fudge milkshakes and go deal with that shield after dinner?” Jack offered with a smile, ever the one to break up tension.

“Yeah, yeah… that sounds good.” Danny agreed. Well, it wasn't how he was expecting this to go, but he was kinda glad it ended up like this. Maybe now they could repair their strained relationship.

As Maddie ruffled up Danny’s hair the teen offered her his first genuine smile in almost a year.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Total words: 4245 Complete

#phic phight 2021 #Phic Phight #Danny Phantom #danny fenton #lancer #ghost shields are a problem #kinfa fluffy #danny is so done

[thebakingqueen5]

KW 2021: Missing Scenes

Day 3 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt Missing Scenes!

This was arguably the most obvious way to go about this prompt but I wanted to write it anyways because if there’s one missing scene that should’ve been included in the series, it’s something to bridge the gap between EIP and Sozin’s Comet.

Links: AO3 | FF.net

Summary: Another year, another summer, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 3: Missing Scenes. Bridging the gap between the Ember Island Players and Sozin’s Comet Series Finale.

Word Count: 2.8K

It was another cool night on Ember Island. The moon was beginning to rise and was lighting up the corridors and central courtyard while the Gaang got some food to replenish themselves after a long day of training and preparations.

Sozin’s Comet was a mere few days away, and tensions were higher than ever. Earlier that day, the true plans of the Firelord had been revealed: that he was planning to use the comet to wipe out the Earth Kingdom entirely, which meant that Aang had to face him on the doomsday itself at the latest. It was a challenge he felt none too prepared for.

He thought that he was going to get more time to master his earth and firebending, but with this newest revelation, it was pretty clear this was not the case, and the stress was beginning to get to the young airbender.

The practice battle against Toph posing as the Melonlord had Aang’s stomach tied in knots. Before today, the final fight seemed so distant, almost inconceivable, something that he would only have to do when he was absolutely ready for it. But now? It was coming, and it was coming fast, and Aang had no idea how to handle it.

The boy hadn’t really thought about what he would do when he finally faced Ozai. He assumed that by the time he mastered all four elements, the solution would be obvious, but it wasn’t. Everyone else seemed convinced that killing him was the only option, but that went against everything Aang had been taught by the monks. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like him. How was he supposed to do something so drastic when he didn’t even believe in it? There had to be another way, something he was missing, there just had to be!

“I have a surprise for everyone!” Katara called as she walked into the clearing, immediately snapping Aang out of his intense thoughts. He briefly glanced up from the plate of food in front of him as everyone’s eyes turned to the crimson-clad waterbender, a rolled up tan scroll in her hands.

“I knew it!” Toph exclaimed. She grinned devilishly as she looked up from her wooden bowl of rice. “You did have a secret thing with Haru!”

Sokka, Suki, Zuko, and Katara all blinked at her in confusion and gave the blind earthbender a bewildered look, unsure of where her supposed epiphany came from.

“Uh…” the waterbender responded slowly as the others returned to their meals. “No. I was looking for cooking pots in the attic and I found this.”

She unfurled the parchment in her hands, making a slight swish noise.

“Look at baby Zuko,” she cooed. “Isn’t he cute?”

The paper in her hands was in fact a painting showing a happy, bright-eyed cherub of a baby laughing as he played on the beach. He looked to be quite young, having only a tiny topknot on his head and a mere two teeth in his small mouth while a tiny shovel and sandcastle lay on the ground next to him.

Everyone except for Zuko laughed and “aww”d at the adorable picture while the firebender stared at the others gravely.

“Oh, lighten up,” Katara admonished when she noticed his lack of response. “I’m just teasing.”

“That’s not me,” the firebender said, opening his eyes to look at her. “It’s my father.”

The Gaang looked on in shock as Katara rolled the scroll back up. They were all wondering the same thing- how could such a precious baby have become the most cruel man on the planet?

“But he looks so sweet and innocent,” Suki frowned, her voice faltering.

“Well, that sweet little kid grew up to be a monster,” Zuko spat. “And the worst father in the history of fathers.”

“But he’s still a human being.”

Everyone turned to look at the source of the voice. Aang’s back was hunched over his tray of rice and beans a few feet away from them, and a deep frown rested on his normally cheery features.

“You’re going to defend him?” Zuko questioned.

“No,” Aang clarified. “I agree with you.”

“Firelord Ozai is a horrible person, and the world would probably be better off without him,” he said as he stood up and turned around to face them, “but there’s gotta be another way.”

“Like what?” Zuko deadpanned.

“I don’t know,” Aang shrugged. He turned his gaze down and away from the others, eyebrows tilted upwards in concentration, when an idea came to him.

“Maybe we can make some big pots of glue, and then I can use gluebending to stick his arms and legs together so he can’t bend anymore!” he said excitedly.

Zuko smiled sarcastically. “Yeah, then you can show him his baby pictures, and all those happy memories will make him good again.”

“Do you really think that would work?” Aang asked eagerly, oblivious to Sokka and Suki snickering behind the firebender.

“No!”

Aang sighed heavily and hung his head in defeat. He needed to find another solution, think out of the box somehow. He stared at the ground for a few moments in exasperation before hopping down the stone steps to pace under a hanging orange lamp in the courtyard.

“This goes against everything I learned from the monks,” he said, walking back and forth. “I can’t just go around wiping out people I don’t like!”

“Sure you can!” Sokka interjected from the sidelines. “You’re the Avatar! If it’s in the name of keeping balance I’m pretty sure the universe will forgive you.”

Aang’s arms and slumped upper body shook violently with rage.

“This isn’t a joke, Sokka!” he shouted. “None of you understand the position I’m in!”

How could they, after all? They hadn’t been at the Air Temples a century ago. They hadn’t been raised by the Nomads to be peaceful and treat every life as sacred. He was the last of his people, and somehow none of them could see that. To them it was the simplest decision in the world- just get it over with and save the world, but it wasn’t to Aang. It wasn’t as cut and dry as that.

“Aang, we do understand,” the waterbender frowned. “It’s just-”

“Just what, Katara? What?”

“We’re trying to help!” she said angrily, her temper also rising.

“Then, when you figure out a way for me to beat the Fire Lord without taking his life, I'd love to hear it!”

Aang raised his arms in frustration with the last few words and stormed off in the direction of his room, feet stomping loudly against the stone floor.

“Aang, don’t walk away from this,” Katara began as she made a movement to follow him.

Zuko put a hand on her shoulder, and the waterbender faltered, turning towards him.

“Let him go,” he said quietly. “He needs time to sort it out by himself.”

The waterbender huffed in indignation and began walking towards her own room.

“I’m going to turn in early tonight,” she muttered, arms wrapped around her torso. “Good night, guys.”

“Good night,” the rest of them mumbled back, all but Zuko turning their attention back to dinner. The firebender scrutinized her receding figure as Katara turned the corner and went down the left hall to her room. He knew she was likely going to talk with him anyways that night, but the least he could do was make sure she gave the airbender enough space to cool down.

After a few minutes of glaring at the corridor, Zuko turned back to the ragtag team of misfits and their lively voices. Though he had been traveling with Team Avatar for some time now, the way they managed to turn the subject of conversation to the Earth King’s bear Bosco in such a short amount of time would forever be a mystery to him, but nevertheless he listened attentively and heard from them all the latest exploits of what went on beyond Fire Nation borders.

Meanwhile, true to her word, Katara went back to her room and attempted to sleep, but it was an effort in vain. The last few days had been weighing heavily on her- she and Aang had never experienced such a tumultuous period in their friendship before, and between the kiss during the play and the past ten minutes, it was safe to say there was some tension.

She closed her eyes and groaned, tossing and turning to try and find a comfortable position to no avail. She just couldn’t take her mind off it. Katara stared at the ceiling and let out a short huff before sitting back up with a new fire in her eyes. She wasn’t going to sit around, no, she was going to face her problems head on like a rock!

“Toph would be so proud,” Katara chuckled as she wrapped her kimono on over her bindings.

With as much stealth as she could muster, Katara carefully opened the door from her room and crept down the hallway until she was facing the entrance to Aang’s.

She stared at the block of wood intently. It almost seemed like a cruel metaphor- the barrier between her and Aang not only physically, but emotionally as well.

Nevertheless, Katara was here to get things done.

The waterbender didn’t want to knock and alert everyone else of what she was doing, but she also didn’t want to show up unannounced and startle Aang. After a few minutes of careful consideration, Katara concluded that the latter was the lesser of the two evils, and she slowly pushed the handle and entered his room.

In the very back, she saw Aang’s silhouette in the partially open paper divider splitting the balcony from the main room. Katara walked closer to him, and she sat down silently at the opening of the divider when she saw him in deep concentration. He had been meditating with four small candles, some water, and some rice buns on a wooden board in front of him. The dim light of the candles highlighted Aang’s tense features, contorted in frustration.

“I know you’re there, Katara,” the airbender said after a few moments, apparently not as concentrated as she thought. “I could hear your footsteps from a mile away.”

The girl blushed furiously in embarrassment and promptly decided the floor was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Katara apologized. “I just wanted to talk but I get if you’re busy-”

Aang sighed and bowed his head in reverence to the spirits before opening his eyes and turning to look at her with a kind expression.

“It’s alright. Meditating wasn’t really getting me anywhere anyways,” he said sheepishly. “What did you want to talk about?”

Katara twisted a lock of hair around her finger and scooted closer to him.

“I’m not here to lecture you or anything. I’m not here to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do because ultimately it’s up to you and only you. You’re under a lot of stress right now, and I get that. I just don’t want, well, us,” she gestured between them, “to be a part of that stress.”

The airbender laughed nervously and looked at the trees around them to avoid her gaze. He subtly wiped his growingly sweaty hands on his cotton shirt, praying to all the spirits that she wasn’t talking about what he thought she was talking about.

“W-w-what do you mean? You, me, we’re f-friends! Good friends! Th-that’s all there is to it, right?”

“I’m talking about last night at the play,” Katara responded quietly, fingers fidgeting around in her lap. “We should talk about it.”

“Thanks a lot, spirits,” Aang groaned internally. He sighed and tucked his knees into his body.

“I think we both made it pretty clear that we want different things, Katara. It’s alright, really,” he said with a sad smile. “I made a mistake kissing you, especially after you already said you were confused, and I’m sorry. You don’t have to worry about me- I’ll get over it. I just don’t want to lose your friendship. I’d rather we just pretend like it never happened.”

The regret in his eyes was as clear as a full moon against the backdrop of a cloudless night sky, and it killed Katara from within to see it.

“We both said a lot of things that night, Aang,” she frowned. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot the last day, and I didn’t explain myself very well.”

Aang looked at her hesitantly, silently pleading with her to continue. The waterbender tried her hardest not to grin when she saw his unintentional yet extremely endearing puppy dog eyes and instead threw her head back to look at the stars above them.

“I don’t want to lose your friendship either, Aang,” Katara murmured, gazing up at the sky. “You’re the first person I’ve known from outside my tribe, the first other bender I’ve met- you showed me the world. You were my first real friend, and... also my first kiss, first three actually.”

Heat rushed up to their cheeks while Aang became very invested in the wooden flooring, eyes fully concentrated on the patterns of the boards .

“...but more than that,” Katara continued, “you’re the first person I’ve cared for this much, and my brain, my heart, really, doesn’t quite know how to feel about that.”

She tilted her head to the side to look at the boy next to her, who was now also staring at her with newfound hope.

“So yeah,” she exhaled loudly, “I’m confused. But I don’t want to pretend like none of that night ever happened, because if I’m being honest, a part of me wanted all of the… all of our kisses to happen.”

The two sat in silence for a few moments while Aang tried to process her words and formulate his own response.

“So…” Aang trailed off. “Does that mean this, us, still has a chance?”

Katara looked at their intertwined hands and gave him a sad smile.

“Maybe, but that’s just it, Aang. We can’t, not right now.”

The airbender’s cautious smile immediately dropped and was replaced by a frown as he broke eye contact.

“We’re in a war,” she murmured apologetically. “No one, especially not us, can afford to do anything differently. In three days, you’re going to be facing the Firelord, which means in three days, one way or another, this war will be over, and sacrifices will probably be made.”

“Katara, you’re not saying-”

She shook her head. “I’m not saying that, but war means making hard decisions, and in that moment, with that decision, we can’t let emotions cloud our judgement. No matter what sacrifices might be made, we have to end this before it’s too late.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t come to that,” Aang said firmly. “I don’t care what it takes.”

Katara smiled at him and leaned in to gently press a kiss to his cheek.

“I know you won’t. I also know that whatever happens with the Firelord, you’ll do the right thing. Not because you’re the Avatar and you have to, but because you’re Aang. Because you’re my Aang, and my Aang always does the right thing.”

The airbender let out a breath of relief, heart practically glowing at her faith in him, and enveloped her in an embrace.

“Thank you, Katara. For everything. For being here for me the last few months, for getting me out of that iceberg, for coming here tonight telling me what I really needed to hear. It means a lot.”

Katara happily returned the hug and squeezed him tight. “Of course, Aang.”

She furrowed her eyebrows when she noticed the circles under his eyes as they broke apart.

“It’s getting late,” Katara whispered, her fingertips lightly tracing his cheeks.

“I’ll leave you to all this-” she gestured to the candles and food, staring quizzically at the contents of the board. “-Avatar business and whatnot. I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thanks, I’ll try my best,” Aang laughed softly as the girl stood up and began walking back to her room. “Good night, Katara. Sweet dreams.”

“I know you will, Aang. Good night and don’t stay up too late- you’ll need your rest.”

The waterbender quietly exited and Aang released a heavy sigh as the door closed with a soft thud.

The airbender turned back to his spread, closed his eyes once more, and resumed his meditation, hoping that somehow, by some miracle, there was another way waiting for him.

“I sure hope you’re right, Katara. I’ll need that luck.”

#kataang #kataang week 2021 #kataang week #kataangtag #aang x katara #ember island #wrote this way later than I should've

[snowbellewells]

CSSNS20 Gift Part Two: “One Little Ray of Hope”

So, this is the follow-up and conclusion to the first part of my @cssecretsanta2020 gift for @let-it-raines I never thought it would be nearly Valentine’s Day before I got this gifted, but I went through a major writing slump and just finally pulled it together a bit. @let-it-raines has been incredibly patient and understanding, and I do hope she enjoys a bit more fluff and a happy ending to her little EF Christmas story.  May your 2021 have been brilliant so far, Raines!  Thanks so much for being such a wonderful shipmate! :)

Part One is here - in case it’s taken me so long you need to refresh your memory!

"One Little Ray of Hope” by: @snowbellewells

Part Two

Nearly two months passed before Emma saw Captain Jones again - two of the longest months she had ever spent waiting for anything it felt to her, and the sameness and routine of her days blended into one seemingly long, endless stretch. She didn’t like to admit it; to be just one more heartsick woman in a harbor town waiting for her restless sailor’s hoped-for return. And yet, she was just that, much as she had tried to fight it.

The only difference she could claim was the man for whom she waited. She had known the Captain’s interest long before accepting her own in return, had been well aware of those brightly intelligent, deeply seductive blue eyes gleaming in the dim light of the tavern as he watched her work, the awareness of his attention shivering along her skin deliciously. She wound’t deny adding an extra sway to her hips or a swing of her hair in response, from time to time, enjoying his silently rapt notice.

This Killian Jones was a patient man; quietly determined and certain of what he desired. He was a man willing to wait if the prize was worth it, and honorable enough to make a vow and stand by his word. Emma had seen it in the way he dealt with his men, his crew; in the way he treated her employer and other tradespeople when he was in port, and when she herself had allowed their better acquaintance and all-too-rare private conversation and brief flirtations, in the way he treated her. Oh, he was tempting, drawing her to his flame inexorably, but despite the reputation of a pirate, she had tried him and found in truth that he was always in fact a gentleman.

While the February snows might still be falling outside, Emma didn’t feel a single doubt. Though she was anxious, she knew he would return. They’d had an interminable late chill this winter; icy conditions still kept many huddled indoors all through the Feast of St. Valentine the past week, when many went out with their significant others for a special evening. This year there had been few couples canoodling in corners of the tavern - most had simply stayed home by their fires (or in their beds) and the lonely who looked on hoping to find their mate at last had been forced to wait another year.

Few ships indeed had managed to make their way in and out to dock in Misthaven’s harbor due to the inclement conditions. Emma wanted to be glad the Jolly was not among them, as she had been watching carefully, worried to note that the Queen’s black guard seemed to be doing the same. Much as she could crawl out of her own skin with the desire to see Killian Jones standing before her, her hair stood on end with the image that had greeted her all too often of the faceless armored men patrolling the docks - as if somehow they knew. She couldn’t stomach the thought of Killian and his crew - meant to sail atop the waves wild and free from one place to another as the wind might carry them - shackled and chained, jailed or even killed. She would have him stay away for months more if it meant he evaded the clutches of the Evil Queen.

However, tonight, for the first time in ages, it looked as though they might have a full house at Granny’s. The wind still howled outside, bitterly cold against the bared skin of cheeks and noses and threatening to bowl over weary travelers plodding against it, but it seemed after so much time cooped up in their own homes, many of the townsfolk were braving the elements  in order to drink and make merry and see some other scenery beyond their own hearths and four walls. If nothing else, possibly the sound and good humor all around her in close quarters would keep her busy serving customers and distracted from worrying about Captain Jones, his ship, and his loyal crew - where they might be, what might have held them up for so long, and what sort of threat might await them here if they did return.

The night wore on as it always did; Emma laughed with the regulars, thanking them kindly when they tipped her well for the warm food and good ale. The cozy atmosphere and bustling pace flushed her cheeks and almost did make her forget for whole minutes at a time how much she did miss one particular sailor, how much she ached to see that dark head of hair proudly leading his crewmen through the door, ready to let loose after a long voyage, his booming laugh making her pulse flutter and a smile tug at her own lips giddily. Even as she prayed in equal measure that he stayed away for his own safety, the yearning refused to be smothered.

Just then she heard the opening chords of a familiar reel - one that she had often noticed Jones’ cook and quartermaster and some of the younger men on his ship singing bawdily along with. Once she had even thought her ears detected Killiain’s smooth, rich tone singing the refrain as well before he had caught himself and merely listened silently - reclaiming the image of the ever-serious captain. Emma’s head turned sharply, eyes seeking out Mulan at the piano, wondering what she was about playing that song now rather than the slower ballads and love songs Granny had bade for their holiday festivities.

To her shock, wondering how she could have missed their entrance, Emma’s mouth fell open at seeing that their musical warrior was no longer the player coaxing such fine notes from the ivory keys. It was the quartermaster on Jones’ ship. But how? And did that mean…?

Even as she just dared to hope, she felt him drawing near; his presence close at her back, the fine hairs at the nape of her neck standing on end in response. The heat radiating off him warmed her from shoulder to heel, and she felt a grin splitting her face even as she fought to school her reaction and not fling herself into his arms before one and all gathered there.

His voice was a low, soothing rumble at her ear as he came closer still, calloused fingers trailing down her arm where gooseflesh broke out in his wake until he tangled their fingers together. “Mistress Swan,” he crooned, true ardency in his words, though she cut her eyes over just enough to note the smirk playing about his lips. “You look more beautiful than ever. Might I be so bold as to steal a dance with you, Love?”

Despite the feeling that every cell and nerve ending was quivering with excitement, unclear whether her wobbling knees would support her, Emma gave a small tease of a smile in reply. It took all her resolve not to melt into his arms and nod mute acquiescence. Somehow though, she heard her own voice managing the sort of banter the two of them had perfected - their own secret language of a sort. “I’m not at all sure you can handle that, Captain… but you’re welcome to try.”

She winked and tossed her hair as she baited him, but in the next instant, all breath fled her lungs as Jones swept her up, pressed tightly to the firm lines of his body, arms holding her in an embrace both graceful and desperate. “What shall see who can handle themselves, Darling,” he growled against her cheek.  

Then they were whirling, spinning, flying through the paces of the jaunty tune with such all-consuming vigor and speed Emma felt her feet hardly touched the ground. For a time they were both lost in the song and the dance and the nearness of one another. As the notes finally subsided and a gentler melody took its place, they slowed, but Emma’s head still spun, fearing to pull away from Killian Jones. She gazed enthralled into the dark, kohl-lined crystal blue of his gaze, expecting a mocking tilt of his head and quirked brow as he asked just who it was who had been unable to handle their reunion. But Jones seemed equally breathless, at last stepping away only slightly to bend his head over her hand, clasping it in his and kissing the back of it reverently.

“You are such a sight for this poor sailor’s eyes,” he promised, looking up at her and causing what little breath she had gained to escape her once more. “Until the morrow?”

Emma nodded, wordless until she finally replied, “Aye, of course, Killian.”

He did not linger, heading back to his ship for the night, clearly not wishing them all to be seen enough to cause a stir or word to get around, but having left her with merely that chaste and gentlemanly caress of lips that now seemed seared into her skin, Emma could not help but watch him go, burning for so much more.

***  ***  ***  ***  ***

On this voyage the Jolly managed to remain until the spring thaw, some weeks in fact. Luck - or Fate - was on their side and the bulk of Queen Regina’s forces, and her perilous focus, had been drawn elsewhere. Killian kept a tight rein on his crew. They roamed the village quietly and inconspicuously, blending in and inviting no trouble. The ship was docked in the harbor, a beautiful vessel one felt compelled to admire, and yet, with the monarch and her henchmen in other parts of the usurped kingdom, the Jolly went unnoticed by those who would mean her - or her occupants - harm. The last traces of winter were melting into spring, just as the frozen ground in the village and nearby forest turned soft with mud and brightened with new shoots of green grass.

The air had been soft and beguiling, teasing at Emma’s cheeks and the ends of her long hair as she had run errands for Granny in the marketplace that afternoon. She sensed a change in the breeze as it played about her, and that evening as she watched only Killian, Smee, and his purser, a young man called Scarlet, come to dine and settle into a darker corner quietly, Emma knew what that sense had meant. It was time for them to set sail once more. And, even with the tight mass of nerves balled in her stomach, she had reached a decision as well.

Making her way over to take their orders with a friendly smile, Emma tried to send Killian the sort of secretive seduction of the eyes that he had so often turned upon her. She knew he took her signal, mischief sparkling in his own irises in return, and yet his bided his time, tongue firmly planted in cheek.

She turned to go, and suddenly she felt his strong arms wrap around her waist, pulling her backwards into his lap. A playful shriek of surprise escaped her as she landed abruptly, but none of the resistance, nor the punch or slap, she would have offered any other who tried to manhandle her so. Instead, she quickly turned toward him to burrow into his embrace - taking him more than a bit off guard with her enthusiastic response.

“You’ve worked out that we must be on our way, haven’t you, Lass?” he murmured in her ear softly.

Emma nodded, the lump in her throat strangling any audible response as she stared back at him, not even daring to blink and let him vanish from her sight. Leaning in to make sure his next words whispered with hoarse emotion were for her ears alone, Jones added, “Come with me, Emma? Come and be my Pirate Queen?”

He seemed genuinely uncertain, hard as it was for Emma to believe him not assured she would love nothing more. His tongue wet his lips nervously as he awaited her answer, which only made Emma further resolved in her choice.

Meeting his hopeful gaze, she offered a trembling smile before nodding vigorously, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. It was a soaring relief to be gathered closer as he swept in to capture her mouth - all hesitance long forgotten - and plunder it thoroughly in a kiss that nearly drowned her.

Emma would miss the other girls who had become her friends and sisters, the safety and familiarity of the home she had found at Granny’s, but she would gain an inestimable boon in return. Love - real and true and all-consuming. And when the Jolly Roger set sail with the dawn, she was at her Captain’s side.

Tagging: @cssecretsanta2020  @let-it-raines @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @tiganasummertree @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi​ @thislassishooked​

#cssns20 #cs secret santa gift fic #one little ray of hope #part two #cs EF ff #cs au fic #cs two shot

[minjungfmd]

famed base magazine / interview

question and answers  warnings / none

1. what one word or phrase would you use to describe your 2021?

“van gogh-esque.”

2. how have you and your group grown this year?

“we’ve scaled back on our promotions, but not entirely as fans predict. three to two doesn’t make that much of a difference, you see. we’re seven years in, and well beyond our rookie years — we’re veterans of some sorts or at least that’s how our juniors have addressed us. we’re mature doing bubble gum pink, showing age really doesn’t have that many limitations. suppose another year in the books would also make us closer, wouldn’t it?”

3. what has been your must-have fashion item recently?

“my must have fashion item... i’d say, my dior saddle bag. but that’s kind of too many times said and done. so, i’ll have to go with my vegan biker shorts. biker shorts have been coming around in circles lately, but the vegan leather is becoming a new trend — add in the change of blacks to browns, and you’ll have yourself a stunning fall. stray away from the black and white coloration and add some muted colors, that’s my big advice.”

4. how would you describe the concept of your solo pictorial and how you came up with it? what were your thoughts about it and during it?

“there’s a night crawler in everyone, i’d like to say. usually, people assume the night is when the real self comes out — i took a twist, and said the night is when the persona comes out. it’s a mixture of parts evil, parts coy. the coloration is reminiscent of japan’s city pop — hence why we traveled out to tokyo to do the shoot. i’ve been a fan of city pop, not so much the vibrant pinks and purples. but even if that trend has past, there’s always a resurgence waiting in the future. similarly, the persona changes from time to time, hence how the inspiration spawned. it was fun to visit japan again, and play into the tunes of city pop — that’s a concept equinox hasn’t done, and it was fun for me to live out the fantasies pretending like it was a teaser for something in the future.”

5. talk about your exclusive x base stage performance.

“it was fun — that’s the day time, when the true persona does come out. i got to bring along friends who aren’t that well known, but talented. jam and have fun as if it weren’t a job, but more so just a group of friends seeing each other for the first time in a long time. i got to bring elements that were important to me from my artwork, to my dingy guitar, and my pretty pug pickle. i’d say, it’s true to me, and where i felt like home.”

6. what are you most interested in these days?

“these days — i’m less about art, less sketching less painting. i blame time constraints, but also a new fascination in learning the guitar, and writing more songs. i don’t know why, but the thing about inspiration is that you have to seize it when you can or else it’ll dwindle at your fingertips — so, i’d say make the most out of it, and i have no regrets.”

7. what is something you want to do in the future?

“i’ll be corny. i want to fly to space via space x — maybe someday, space x will sponsor me.”

8. if you could describe yourself as a color, what would it be?

“i say it all the time — gray. but if i’m supposed to become a bit more creative, and love colors, i’d say an olive green. i like the muted earthy tones that doesn’t scream a field of flowers — there’s something mysterious about it, but almost an eerie gentleness. i think that’s why olive green is magical.”

9. what is your favorite concept equinox has done?

“is it vain of me to say psycho? it’s the first title track that i’ve partaken in — the eerie concept there with the classical victorian gothic themes are something we haven’t touched on. the song itself, in my opinion, is a taste of art that evokes a chilling feeling despite how many times you listen to it. it’s timeless, and i’ll make my cake and eat it too.”

10. how does it feel for the public have seen you evolve over the years?

“weird — nobody expects to stand under a microscope as they go through puberty. neither do you expect anyone to remember the embarrassing moments you’ve done in years past. it’s humbling, it’s awkward. it’s irony like the truman show —  still, i can’t change the past and i’m glad that i’m still evolving. so, keep on watching me now.”

#famedbasemagazine

[icecreamkink]

so i watched cobra kai all in two days and i have so many -

this show has so many cool and smart angles to it, but the same time.... its so stupid oh my god everyone is so dumb literally mr miyagi held all of the braincells in this whole universe 

like i am but at the same time i am not surprised it was made like this, bc in hindsight of course there were hordes of ppl simping over johnny lawrence ....  but it still amuses me that this is like... an Actual Official Thing

ok this will get long so cut it is

how much fun this cast has is super visible and i love it

i rly enjoy how the world was expanded ! i did grow up watching the karate kid movies, so watching how they progressed the world of the movies so organically was pretty cool. it rly feels like its the same universe

i fucking LOVE stories that are largely about a Thing. dancing ,skating, sports its just so thrilling to experience this all consuming relationship people can have with this type of activity? and martial arts are just that much more intense, so yeah, grown ass men kicking each other around at the lightest provocation and a war veteran caring so much abt teen karate is Ridiculous.... but i love it all because thats the intensity i find so thrilling

was kinda surprised with how much im missing mr. miyagi. first because, like everyone is so unhinged jesus christo, it just really throws into relief how much his character grounded the narrative of the movies. but also hes just a really great character

and on that note it rly Gets Me that the show itself aknowledges that and plays that into daniels angst and all the little ways they sorta weave myiagisms into the whole show........ im not getting emotional over this dumb karate dads show OK

related - i really miss hearing ‘daniel-san’ 🥺🥺

ACE DEGENERATE oh god oh no

they really went down the down and out johnny lawrence route huh. like i was always kinda bummed we see kreese choking him and then we never see him again in the movies, and while i love dumpster fire problematic trash himbo ck johnny, its like......................... actually really sad that his life turned out like this fjngn

everytime i hear ‘babes’ and ‘pussy’ i die a little inside. i know thats the point but i am a v cringe easy person, have mercy (ehe)

loved the way they are constantly drawing parallels between johnny and mr. myiagi of all people. hes the handy man of his building that has a bullied kid asking for help and eventually steps up to teach them karate, beats up a bunch of bullies for him, creates a friendship with said kid, estranged from family, drinks his sorrows away, surprisingly one of the least quick to anger characters (which says more about everyone else really but.... Well.), no schemes or ulterior motives hes just tryna vibe here.... oh and ofc magically heals miguel of is asthma apparently. the true disciple.. meanwhile daniel is his usual messy petty self even tho he wants to be mr myiagi so bad 

also interesting about that is how miguels character is a parallel of both johnny and daniel at the same time

overall the parallels in ck are done really well, drawing comparisons and also subverting them constantly. theyre well thought out

THE PARALELOGRAMS

fr tho, the angle being explicitly the cycle of trauma and its effects and how trumatized adults in turn traumatize kids, maliciously or not, is so interesting

but! on the flip side of that, it feels like the writers are getting in their own way @ letting the characters grow. especially this last season. theres only so many times you can do "johnny and daniel are getting along but 5mins later they are (literally) fighting over some dumbass random issue" or "johnny puts in 20% of effort with robby and then gives up" before it gets on your nerves yknow?

i see daniel no longer talks like macchio ingested 15 shots of espresso before every take and idk how to feel about that tbh

interesting tension in daniel, as in, in tkk mr miyagi was there and daniel was frankly, kind of a lil shit, this messy petty spitfire hot tempered sassy kid,(johnny lawrence voice: just... stop being so annoying) but now hes the adult, and he wants to be mr. miyagi... but hes just not, and never will be to his very core and it shakes him and in a way hes trying to find who he is now that he sees himself in a position to be a not! cobra kai figure. i kinda really like that 

plus how that relates to his cobra kai trauma. idk if the writers thought abt it Like That, i think so, but in any case, its interesting bc it seems like daniel has told everyone whod listen about johnny lawrence his Pretty Boy Karate Rival and high school and 84 cobra kai... But. no one seems to know what went on in 85 (or 86? idk) which was just so much worse

like ye og cobras were shitheads, but tkk iii is just two hours of daniel being emotionally and physically tortured. 

like, the third movie is.............chaotic, to put it nicely, and many people ignore it, but the writers clearly didnt. daniels actions are, in a way, responding so much more to the events of tkk iii than to the first movie ie. johnny himself, AND. daniel doesnt rly seem to have dealt with that trauma? he never told sam? doesnt feel like hes ever told amanda? he doesnt even say terrys name out loud? freaks Out over kreese ? the way he reacts to robbys deceit? his FACE when he walks past the new "fear does not exist in this dojo" paint or kreeses photo? hmMm i sense Pain

his fashion tho........... disappointing. where are the flower shirts daniel huh we had one (1) shirt what a tragedy STOP WEARING SUITS ALL THE TIME . also the band ts/grunge bi are a look for johnny but part of me longs for the preppy lovable 80s bully chic johnny lawrence getups

weird that they never used that last moment of karate kid where johnny kinda... snaps out of his anger and hands daniel the trophy almost in tears. like “youre alright larusso, good match” “thanks a lot”  that being their last direct interection seems like itd be perfect fruit for cobra kai but... they just dont. weird. 

especially when, the FIRST SCENE they see each other, suposedly in 30+ years, the first thing to come out of daniels mouth is QUOTE "u still got those golden locks huh?" WHO SAYS SHIT LIKE THAT DANIEL FUCKING SAN 

also amandas immediate reaction "your pretty boy rival?" like. can we talk about the fact that daniel had to have imparted to his wife the very important information that his high school bully/karate rival was like Really Cute and Fucking Hot Actually

 the writers Knew exactly what they were doing and honestly.............. power to them

tkk director voice: and billy was just so cute  

also I was thinking that daniel sounded strangely fond in that first scene, and i wonder if he developed a weird affection for johnny on the grounds that of all of his Karate Rivals johnny was actually the only one who didn’t actively tried to literally kill him

i was actually delightedly surprised with how great the chemistry between them is, like from the get go i am Invested. their rl friendship totally bleeds through and its fantastic

. granted, idiots enemies to lovers friends is my Thing so i am biased  

johnny lawrence: i am down in the dumps, i fucked up my whole life and my sons probably, largely in light of the trauma that the father figure sensei and the philosophy of my karate inflicted on me and all my friends. u know what i should do, as a traumatized, unreliable mess of an adult? teach that same philosophy to some other kids! what could go wrong! 

but really i enjoy the setup of it. i kinda like that i watched it late because, season 1 was johnny setting himself up for failure in a way and it was exciting to watch it all go to shit sjfn

Like. his heart might be in the right place, but theres just.... not a way to teach something like ‘strike hard, no mercy’ and not have it fuck up a kid 

case and point: aisha, miguel and hawk become annoying as all hell over that bullshit in the end of s1, even before shit gets truly fucked up

billys subtle panicked eyes when he sees hawk and miguel fighting dirty in the all valley was SO GOOD especially in parallel with the panic that is so visible in his face in the movie when kreese tells bobby to injure daniel and in the sweep the leg scene 

seen people question wether kreese should have returned and i absolutely think he needed to. johnny needed to realize that cobra kais fundamentals are flawed, at the root, beyond kreese himself being a toxic piece of shit 

also who are we kidding? we are here to see the tkk characters play on new playgrounds!

i get what they're doing abt kreeses backstory, ( also. cobra kai. pq eles caem nas cobras djjs sorry) but did it need to take up that much time? feels like they couldve  done it in half the run time and developed some other stories better 

martin kove has such an evil eye. i love it

love that we get a good follow up to kreese breaks johnnys trophy and tries to CHOKE HIM in the parking lot, which happened in the movie and then....................... was never mentioned again

“the gang is all back together again” aaaa u piece of SHIT 

also. terry silver is definetely appearing ha ha ha PAIN i cant wait

seen ppl say kreese was too much of a cartoon villain like..........................oh......... sweetie........... u dont even Know

interested how johnny will fit into that bc kreese was simping rly hard for johnny here. like i did not expect him to be so adamant to have him with cobra kai ... under his control, sure, but he really wants johnny by his side despite already having control of the dojo and how will terry silver self appointed jon kreeses forever simp going to feel abt that? 

like bitchs dropping by every episode like ‘joooooohnny ..... come bacc to me joooonny......... this ur last warning! for real this time johnny! i wont say it again! watch me ! im leaving johnny! im rly leaving ! im dragging a chair” and johnny is just like. dont let the door hit ya bitch it was so funny pls

and on that subject oof, johnny! doesnt! Know! he doesnt get that side of daniels cobra kai trauma. and i kind of.............. cannot wait for ck 2021 johnny lawrence to meet terry silver like. what a shit show i need a front row seat and popcorn (imagine terry tries some greasy charm and johnny just roundhouse kicks him in the teeth bc he just doest Not Have the Patience for This. glorious)

feels like we, as a society, should acknowledge that cobra kai will never die................ bc their sense of design is just chefs kiss. their name is COBRA KAI. they have sexie sleeveless black gis. theyve sneks. colorful leather jackets with embroided naja insignia, the get ppl thru the aesthetics. evil geniuses

the flashback cuts : masterpiece behavior

the other takes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! of the movie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the differente angles!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! of the FIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE CLOSE UP ON JOHNNYS FACE AT THE KICK 

that scene of daniel and johnny vibing to 80s music in the car. just. oh my god. the fan wish fullfilment. no thoughts head empty.

the new characters! theyre .... good. but. idk. i really like miguel (save for the annoying phase mid s1 - end s2) and amanda, who is a damn riot and has some functioning braincells, but everyone else is       

like dont get me wrong, i dont hate anyone,its not a jane and rafael from jtv situation,  and i am interested and invested in their arcs, but i wouldnt say i like   Like them, as in, personality wise 

like, sams grappling with ptsd was rly gutting and i enjoyed that plus her slight rage issues, 

which nicely parallel torys rage issues. torys background is all over the place tho so im pretty on the fence abt her so far

robby deserves better in every way, and i like how smart and cunning and surprisingly sweet he is

hawk............... is there i guess,

 demetri is annoying in the best way possible,

 carmen is sweet but. i just feel like her character is blunted to make the johnny relationship easier. like when shes furious with him after miguels injury but then forgives him like an episode later? and then convinces him to fight for the tournament bc she had a karate epiphany off screen even tho she was always against it? meh. feels like with the plot thiccening she was swallowed and now shes like a crutch for johnny mora than anything, which is disappointing.

aisha was cool and im kinda mad she wasnt in s3, especially bc a storyline with her tory and sam was like RIGHT THERE , but also... cant say i was super super fond of her... doesnt feel like we ever spent enough time on her

moon the bi icon, 

overall its a good cast but the main draw for me remains the og cast 

the tory/sam miguel/robby Thing. enjoy how theyre Narrative Foils and i like how their stories were so dramatically entangled but oh god give me a break with the teenage love square for the love of god. if u gonna put us through that at least have the decency to not make it so straight

and honestly some sam/tory        miguel/robby romantic tension would even make more sense. just saying! 

also im not sure how i feel abt the cobra kai: red miyagi do: blue theyre going with since some of daniels most iconic looks in tkk are also red. like it was a color they (johnny and him) sorta shared. i get it, opposite but complementary but idk... a little too fire nation and water tribe for me .

 and like the cobra kai kids are so funny abt it bc their outifts grow progressively more ridiculously coordinated. its like do they group chat every morning before leaving their houses? 

robby still sticks out like that tho. he went thru an athleisure/daniel san tsleeves phase and now hes back in the bandts grunge, but his color scheme doesnt fully blend with the other cobra kais. hmmmm.

LOVED LOVED LOVED both the okinawa episode and the cobra kais easy rider episode just such good good heart aching fun

bobby is an icon. he was in tkk and he is now ck hope appears more and more

 tommy is like the most iconic background character. all his lines, freaking gold then and now. sigh :( 

the framing in the okinawa trip was so good everything was so good

i stand by the fact that kumiko was the love interest daniel had the most chemistry with and shes is overall such a joy to watch, loved to see her again, idola, fashion icon

also tkk ii is good u guys are just mean

also really enjoyed chozens role in the episode, his evolution; i love that they introduced the pressure points (ty lee the blueprint) and! the honk + karate! cousins! absolutely iconic

when kumiko reads mr miyagis letters........ oh my god, my eyes FILLED with tears, it was so heart wrenching :(( tamlyns delivery was so emotional and lovely and its so obvious everyone involved in ck has so much love and respect for pat morita and mr miyagi as character, and i adore that it exists like this electric current through the show

when we were watching i told my sister i thought that ali would be miguels big shot surgeon and ngl i am so disappointed that didnt happen. hire me cobra kai writers

also the johnny ali daniel amanda chemistry? off the charts

AND the sassy retconning of daniel and alis breakup! LMAO ‘I HOPE U DIDNT TELL MR MIYAGI IT WAS MY FAULT’ HFDJJGNKFKSD

i am preeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetty sure back injuries dont work like that    but oke

daniel and johnny are so good together whenever, like they never actually help the kids or get shit done and end up fighting anyway but its just so much fun when theyre hanging

JOHNNY LAWRENCE AND DANIEL LARUSSO FIGHTING TOGETHER

daniels “plan” on how to get robby to juvie was so stupid. literally were u TRYING to make him hate you. dumbass

parents at those hearing rly brave for ppl that did not do ANYTHING as their kids got involved in a karate gang war until now

“bullshit i heard u were the real bully!” i mightve screeched

this s3 ending was SO DRAMATIC omg

everyone is such a MESS go to THERAPY u unhinged motherfckers

also im sorry but uh. a richass neighborhood in california doesnt have some type of neighborhood watch? the larussos rly dont have any security at all? neighbors wont hear the sound of a damn karate brawl happening next door??? also wasnt tory all like ooo i cant go to juvie, my mom yada yada yet shes always running around town getting into fights even at the rich girls house she was kicked out of school for fighting??   ?  ??    ??        ?                ?    ?          ??                  ?    ? girl??

stop destroying the larussos house, its so pretty :((((

sam finding her center looking at mr miyagis picture...  uwu maybe

robby yelling ‘U ARE WEAAK’@  johnny \as he is easily blocking him is like.... so funny and so sad to me. sweetheart. 

also i know it was meant as ‘oh johnny pushes him and HURTS HIM’ but it just looks like robby runs himself into the lockers and IM SO SORRY I FEEL SO BAD BUT IT WAS SO FUNNY 

i like that he and tory are the cobra kai kids now. we need ppl we care abt there to not revert to a good vs evil schtick, and this is the most engaging it could be... tho it hurts that these kids cant catch a break

ah yes "lets bet some real shit on the result of this teen karate tournament bc that is always a great idea" is BACK

so daniel saves johnny from kreese..... maybe johnny will save him from terry 🧐

and dojos unite ohohoho. lets SEE how that’ll work out 

miguels face of Despair when the ck defectors and the md kids are bickering like 'this is never gonna work' : gold

also. Johnny Lawrence is gonna learn some myiagi-do karate AHAAHSJAKDFH

 ive been waiting for this moment all my lifeeee oh lawrd 

final thoughts! there are def things i hope the writers will improve on the next season, but i am very excited for it either way AND i feel like it has made me enjoy the movies even more and that is a win for a reboot/sequel to me!!

#m. #did i procrastinate watching this since it came out and only watched it now bc my sister nagged me to when i said we should #watch karate kid over the holidays? #and then binged the whole thing in two days?? #mayhaps and what abt it #cobra kai #the karate kid #its funn #y bc like karate kid is a Childhood movie but i wouldnt say #it was like particularly special for me? #like i wasnt in a fandom or anything #but now. #i might be invested #maybe #talvez

[hphmmatthewluther]

HPHM April Prompts 2021: Day 2: The Villain of Hogwarts

It’s Day 2 of #aprilprompts2021 by @stupendousbookworm , and today we get villainous! (Note: This one’s a little short as I’m out for most of the day, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!)

Prompt # 2 - We all know that MC is the hero of Hogwarts. But what if they weren't? What if MC was evil? Illustrate or write a paragraph about your MC, except they're evil.

“Good news, I’ve decided I’m accepting your offer.” There was a scream. A small part of Rowan’ mind registered it as Beatrice’s voice, but the majority of their focus was on the flash of green light a few feet away. When it disappeared, the body of Patricia Rakepick was on the ground, motionless. Rowan had to cover their mouth. Their eyes moved towards the caster of that most Unforgivable Curse. They still couldn’t quite believe it. The teenager looked at the Portrait of his brother on the wall, which had an expression of pure shock. “I think you look better there,” he muttered, “At least you can’t run away now.” He turned to Rowan, whose eyes were still on Rakepick.  “What?” the killer said in the voice of Matthew Luther. “She’s part of R. She’s been torturing Merula. I can show you proof if you’d like...I wouldn’t be too far off schedule.” Rowan found themselves backing away. “You can’t have...it wasn’t...she deserved a fair trial.”

Matthew let out a hollow laugh. “Rowan, that trial would be anything but fair. Besides, as far I’m concerned, death is far better a fate than Azkaban. But don’t take that from me…” He walked over to the unconscious Merula Snyde, running a hand through her wild hair. Penny and Beatrice slowly moved away. “Something had to be done.” Matthew declared. “She was hurting, and she couldn’t say a thing. Because, for some reason, the Wizarding community seems to just despise progress.” Matthew sighed, before moving Merula so she was more comfortable. “And so, I asked myself. Why? Why are wizards so stuck in their backwards ways? It puzzled me for quite some time, I must admit. Until...I came to the solution staring me in the face.” He sighed, the smirk fading from his face. “It’s because, Rowan, wizards feel like they don’t need to worry about what Muggles think.” Rowan stared at his best friend with a great deal of confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Look, I’ve had a long look at the history of magic, and I’ve developed a theory. You see,” he began, moving towards Rakepick’s body, “In the beginning, Wizards allowed Muggles to see and share in magic. They were sort of like a large caterpillar, they moved around eating whatever they came across and poisoning any Muggles that got too close.” “Then, we went into hiding. The Statute of Secrecy, all of that. We entered a chrysalis, and we’ve done nothing but wallow. We’re trapped in walls of our own making.” he said, moving back towards Merula, who stirred slightly. “Don’t worry about a thing, songbird. I’ve got everything covered. When you wake up, you’ll be in a brand new world.” Merula hummed at that, and drifted off into a deeper sleep. “So…what?” asked Rowan, “You want us to...break free?” Matthew nodded. “We need to spread our wings. Show our true colours. The Muggles won’t be able to ignore us...and we won’t be able to ignore them. No memory charms will undo what I’ve got planned.”

“But, they’ll just make us handle all of their problems!” Rowan protested “Oh, no! Basic human decency!” Matthew jokingly lamented, putting a hand to his brow, “Something wizards are quite frankly lacking.” Rowan paused. Matthew had always been critical of the way the Wizarding World worked, but this was beyond anything they had ever seen. “You...and where are you going to be in all of this?” Matthew chuckled. “R keep trying to make me the new Dark Lord. Maybe I should start listening...if I were in charge, well, I’d have a lot I’d want to get rid of...starting with them.” He began to laugh at his own joke, and it was a laugh Rowan had heard his father do several times while telling him stories. The laugh of the vampire, or warlock, or werewolf, or whatever monster it was that night. “Matthew, I get it, really I do, but you can’t have that power!” Rowan said, raising his own wand by instinct. Matthew smirked, raising his own wand. “Really? Why ever not?”

“Expelliarmus!” came a voice, and Matthew’s wand went flying across the room. A flash of rage crossed his face as Bill Weasley moved in front of Rowan. “Nobody can be trusted with that power. A position like that’s bound to be abused! A Ravenclaw like you ought to have figured that one out!” Bill declared. Matthew considered this for a moment. “Yes, but can you blame me?” he asked, as if total power over Wizardkind wasn’t that big a deal. “You’d do the same, wouldn’t you?” “Yeah, maybe I would!” Bill admitted, “But I’m enough of a wizard to know not to get anywhere near something like that. Why do you think Dumbledore never went for total power?” “Because he was weak! Because Albus Dumbledore, unlike me, lacked the faith in himself to do what needed to be done!” “Albus Dumbledore knows himself better than most know themselves, and if you think you could be a Dark Lord, Matthew, I’m afraid you’ve got it wrong!”

There was suddenly a high-pitched cry, as into the Portrait Vault flew a large red phoenix with something in his talons. “Fawkes?” asked Matthew, sounding genuinely confused. Fawkes flew overhead, dropping the large something, which Bill caught in his hands. There was another cry, and Fawkes landed besides Beatrice and Penny, the younger of whom started to scratch its chin. The three who were standing looked at what was now in Bill’s hands. It was brown, and made of leather, and when Bill unfolded it, a floppy brim came out from under the folds. “Is that the Sorting Hat?” Rowan asked aloud. Matthew gazed at it before laughing once again.

“Oh, Dumbledore’s finally done something to protect his students, and it’s this? What, am I being resorted into Slytherin? Give me a break...” Matthew sneered, before bringing his hands together, causing them to flash with electricity.  “Wandless magic. Useful for when someone interrupts my scheming.” Rowan braced themselves as a bolt of blue lightning struck them, causing their wand to go flying along with them, pushing them against a wall and causing a few portraits to fall to the ground. Bill scowled at Matthew, who now aimed at him. “I’d make a joke about Oddjob and that hat,” the Ravenclaw said, “But...I’m afraid it would go to waste...ah, well...” There was another Blue flash as a lightning bolt headed towards Bill. The Head Boy , not really thinking, pulled up the hat in front of it…

And was surprised to still be standing. His wand and the hat had been blasted across the room, but he was unharmed. What was more, in his hand was now a brilliant silver sword, with shining rubies upon its hilt. “Oh, that is some bull...” Matthew whispered to himself, before clenching his right hand into  a fist. It glowed with magical energies, and before long a blue rapier had appeared. Bill registered that it was made of Cursed Ice. Matthew clasped it in his hand. “Just my luck that the person between me and my goals is someone I liked.” “Feeling’s mutual.” Bill confessed, feeling the weight of the sword in his hand, before pointing it at Matthew. “Last chance, mate, because I really don’t want to do this. We can leave the Vault and everything that’s happened in it.”

“I’m sorry, Bill. I can’t let things go on this way any longer. Besides, I’ve already defeated one older brother today...what’s one more? Engarde!”

#aprilprompts2021 #hphm #hogwarts mystery #hphm au #evil!mc #hphm rowan #bill weasley #merula snyde #hphm fic