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curioussubjects · 3 years

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I feel bad discussing spn now that’s over but I’ve been wondering. Do you think dean actually meant it when he said “why does that something always seem to be you” (15.03)? Usually people blurt out what’s on their mind all of a sudden even if they didn’t mean to say it out loud. But it comes out because the person either thinks about it or actually believes it. Do you think at one point Dean truly blamed Cas for Mary? I mean, putting 15.09 aside of course.

Why do you feel bad discussing SPN now the show’s over, anon?? Don’t feel bad!

The short answer to your question, in my view, is that Dean was lashing out because of how his unaddressed trauma over Cas dying (cf. 7x01, purgatory, 12x23) gets entangled with him processing his grief over Mary and Jack. Everything is further exacerbated by Chuck’s villain reveal, and the events that lead to Rowena’s “death.” The longer answer to this question starts with acknowledging that feelings and trauma are complicated things that aren't always rational. And that's the crux of the matter for Dean in that moment he lashes out at Cas: he's not behaving rationally. We know Dean is angry, and historically doesn't handle anger well at all, but we also know, even without 15x09, that what Dean is really feeling is fear. In that moment, Dean is angry, and he's scared. If you watch the scene closely, too, you'll notice that Dean is still present enough to regret saying "why does that something always seem to be you" to Cas. He tenses up, he looks down and only looks up again in stubbornness defiance when Cas says he can't even look at him. Then Cas leaves, which has always been an issue for Dean. However warranted Cas's decision to leave was, it still hits Dean as rejection, too. All this is to say that the break up scene is extremely fraught, and Dean is the type of person who needs time to process events and emotions, and time to process is something he hasn't had since Mary disappeared.

So you ask: ok, cool, but what does all of that have to do with Cas dying, Liv? And here's where I say they have everything to do with Cas dying. I've talked about this before in tags and in other posts that I can't think of right now, but there are common occurrences in the events that have led to the more traumatic Cas deaths. If we think of Cas dying in 07x01, the context for that is as follows: Cas needs to solve a problem, he wants to ask Dean for help, but the desire to not burden him with it is greater, so Cas ends up handling the problem solo, which leads to disaster and also him dying. Or, well, apparently dying. But as far as Dean was concerned, Cas was dead, and he did struggle with it a lot during season 7. Now, fast-forward to s12 and the context of how Cas ends up dead then: Cas needs to solve a problem, part of him does want to cooperate with Sam and Dean to solve it, but he ultimately decides his desire to bring Dean a win, and to shield him and Sam from actions they'd suffer from are greater. Predictably, Cas ends up handling the problem solo, which leads to complications, and him being killed by Lucifer. Cas's death in 12x23 is significantly more traumatic to Dean than the one in 07x01 as season 13 starts with a grief arc that is devoted to Dean's suffering over Cas -- to the point that suffering overshadows even his grief over Mary. Granted, these are somewhat reductive summaries of the events of seasons 7 and 12, but the fact remains that those two deaths were remarkably similar as well as traumatic.

If you look at trauma theory in regards to literary analysis, you'll notice that a key element is repetition. The story of trauma is a story of echoes, which is partly why triggers are what they are for people who have PTSD. In particular, a situation doesn't need to be an exact replica in order to evoke a traumatic memory. A situation need only be similar enough to the traumatic event to cause a trauma response. Therefore, if we keep in mind that the events leading to 15x03 aren’t exact mirrors of 07x01 or 12x23, but too reminiscent for comfort, then Dean’s behavior toward Cas starts making a bit more sense -- not excused, but understandable. A quick summary of these similarities goes as follows: Cas notices there’s is something off with Jack because of his soul; he decides to investigate on his own to avoid worrying the Winchesters and also because of his own fear of losing his family. He only comes forward with what is happening after something potentially disastrous has happened (Mary’s death). Later, Cas deviates from the agreed plan to close the wound leading to hell, which leads to another disastrous consequence (Rowena’s death). What does this look like? Cas makes a decision to act on his own, and doesn’t tell Dean (or Sam) about it, something goes wrong, someone dies. Notably, here, moreover, is that Cas obviously doesn’t die, but he has paralleled Mary before (when he was dead in s13) and there’s an argument to be made that he would eventually parallel Rowena (with heaven), but that’s from a metanarrative perspective rather than Dean’s, and I digress.

Oh, It’s worth noting, too, that the way in which the arc starting with 14x18 and culminating in 15x03 presents a similar, but not quite, chain of events as those of previous seasons signals the intentionality of the trauma narrative.

But anyway, as we were: the resonance between the traumatic and triggering events, with the latter being traumatic in their own way, make Dean response in a way that is unfair for the situation at hand, but betray a deeper truth about Dean’s state of mind. Backtracking a little from 15x03, the first instance of Dean lashing out at Cas happens in 14x18 with the (heartbreaking) line: “Then you're dead to me.” At face value, those words are a condemnation of Cas and indicate a complete breakdown of the relationship, hinging on Jack having hurt/killed Mary. There is, however, another angle there, pain simmering beneath the surface, which makes more sense in its direction to Cas: the last time Jack, Mary, and Cas were involved in a tableaux like this, Cas died and Mary was gone. In what is an inversion of events, Mary is dead and Cas is...there, but as an echo of Jack’s birth, to say Cas is dead is a statement of fact: he did die, then. And as he was a parallel to Mary in the aftermath of Jack’s birth (and the rehashing of the John, Dean, Sam drama through Dean, Sam, and Jack), so is he a parallel to Mary here, except in circumstance. Both Mary and Cas had been after Jack. Mary happened to find him first, but Cas could’ve easily been the one to find him. Easily been the one who died. See the issue? This is obviously not to say that Dean’s grief and rage weren’t about Mary herself, but that the situations are entangled and murky.

Further entanglement and murkiness happen when Cas is forced to change the plan to seal the hell wound in 15x03. We all know, including Dean, that there was nothing Cas could’ve done instead of what he did. But besides the change of plans, there’s an undercurrent of anxiety of the wound closing before Cas makes it out. He does, of course, but that’s the what if, always. And to illustrate the possibility, Rowena sacrifices herself to close the wound. It’s not coincidence that the similarities here are tenuous considering the stress burden from everything that has happened since 14x18 has continued to grow with no respite.

The stage is set then for the confrontation that leads to Cas walking out of the bunker. Dean is clearly on edge, and Cas is in a particularly vulnerable and hopeless headspace:

CASTIEL: Sorry about Rowena. DEAN: You're sorry? Why didn't you just stick to the damn plan? CASTIEL: Belphegor was lying. DEAN: Belphegor's a demon. CASTIEL: He was using us. He wanted to eat every last soul to take over Hell, Earth, and every... DEAN: Yeah, and we would've figured it out... after. With Rowena. CASTIEL: The plan changed, Dean. Something went wrong. You know this. Something always goes wrong. DEAN: Yeah, why does that something always seem to be you?

The reason I went of this long journey to come back to this is so as to make clear that what Dean is talking about here isn’t about Rowena at all, and it’s not about Mary either. We know Dean didn’t really blame Cas for Mary, and that he didn’t blame him for Rowena, either. But do those bolded parts sound familiar?

CASTIEL: Listen. Raphael will kill us all. He'll turn the world into a graveyard. I had no choice.

DEAN: No, you had a choice. You just made the wrong one.

CASTIEL: You don't understand. It's complicated.

DEAN: No, actually, it's not, and you know that. Why else would you keep this whole thing a secret, huh, unless you knew that it was wrong? When crap like this comes around, we deal with it... Like we always have. What we don't do is we don't go out and make another deal with the Devil!

CASTIEL: It sounds so simple when you say it like that. Where were you when I needed to hear it?

DEAN: I was there. Where were you?

DEAN: You should've come to us for help, Cas.

How about:

DEAN: Cas, you can't – With everything that's going on, you can't just go dark like that. We didn't know what happened to you. We were worried. That's not okay. CASTIEL: Well, I didn't mean to add to your distress. I – Dean, I just keep failing. Again and again. When you were taken, I searched for months and I couldn't find you. And then Kelly escaped on my watch, and I couldn't find her. And I just wanted I needed to come back here with a win for you. For myself.

[...]

DEAN : We will find a better way. CASTIEL: You mean, we? DEAN : Yes, dumbass. We. You, me, and Sam, we're just better together. So now that you're back, let's go, Team Free Will. Let's get it done. CASTIEL: I'd like that. DEAN: Great.

“Then, you’re dead to me.” “...why does that something always seem to be you”

Because it’s Cas, and Cas being dead and gone. The tragedy of the divorce arc is that Cas ends up gone, too. However, this time, it’s Dean’s fault for not stopping him. Here, Dean’s fear of Cas dying leads to the anger that ultimately pushes him away. So, yeah, Dean meant what he said, but not in the way Cas took it. Not in the way it appeared as.

The other tragedy of Supernatural ending as it did is that Dean never got to heal from that trauma, he never got to confront Cas for it, either. Make no mistake, the empty deal is another spiral of Dean’s unaddressed trauma over Cas dying. The beats are the same, and the result is Cas, gone, and Dean, shattered. Sadly, we never got our final resolution, the climatic reunion that would mirror Dean’s prayer in purgatory and Cas’s confession in the dungeon. It’s a story left unfinished.

#destiel #dean winchester #deancas #supernatural #spn #spn meta #questions and answers #my writing #i keep saying the remaining huge piece of unaddressed trauma from dean is cas's death #remember that thing i keep repeating about dean's unaddressed trauma re: cas?#as you can see i do yell about this a whole lot #this thing got SO LONG ANON IM SORRY #ksjdhfkasjhfklasd #hopefully it's helpful?

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nieladasdenani · 3 years

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supercorp promt lena going over all the times kara/supergirl saved her life and how many ways shed be dead without her and realizing all the times kara/supergirl stood up for her/defended her in public and private and how she would have been treated like a luthor and put in jail without her help and just coming to the realization that kara didnt use her like she said she did because kara would not do all that if she had been using her and just all around having a big impact realization about it

Hello and thank you, Anon! This will be a challenge because I have seen very little of the show since season 3 and none of the last season whatsoever. All my knowledge comes from Tumblr posts. And because I have strong opinions of how the reveal was handled by both canon and part of fandom. So I hope it still meets your expectations.

You can read it in AO3 if you rather.

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

Lena’s hand trembles as she reaches for the bottle, so she clenches it in a tight fist and tries to take a deep breath to calm her mounting anxiety, though it doesn’t seem to have any effect. A sense of paranoia has her focusing her attention on the office door, expecting to hear the thunderous sound of trained boots rushing to get her, but nothing meets her ears. She sighs and tries to breathe deeper again. Then chances a look over her left shoulder at the balcony door, wide open, like a dare... or an invitation. If she turns completely, she’d be facing her desk, and on top of it lays Myriad, inactive. She knows she should have gone to Lex’s lair, where Hope in Eve’s body awaits to complete the mission. Would she be worried Lena hasn’t arrived? Confused?

“But, Miss Luthor, I am not your friend.” Lena scoffs at the memory and snatches the bottle and a glass.

“Neither was the person whose face you’re wearing, so I guess the integration was flawless.”

She drains the first glass of whiskey entirely in the first gulp and sits heavily on her pristine white couch. Mistake. There, on the floor, is the framed, cracked picture showing her smiling face, impossibly close to Kara’s own radiant expression. A stark difference to the one she was wearing when Lena left her in an iced kryptonite cell, inside her piece of home away from home: terrified, devastated. Some call it karma... Others call it revenge.

“Lena, please.”

Lena sighs again and closes her eyes after pouring a second glass, that she holds loosely in her right hand. Both her elbows rest on her knees, and her head hangs low. Was Kara scared for National City, the world? Or was she afraid Lena’s trap would kill her?

“Are you going to kill me now?”

Was she scared of Lena or for Lena? No doubt the DEO has a dark, hidden dungeon waiting just for her, where they can lock her in isolation, like her demented brother was before he escaped and wrecked havoc. Before she killed him... Of course Kara would be fine. Lena made sure the trap was safe. That the kryptonite was non-lethal. She made sure of it. It’s still an alien radioactive substance, though. No, no, she made sure. She studied Lex’s journals exhaustively. She’s working for good.

“I’m not a villain. You shouldn’t have treated me like one.”

So why does it feel like she’s doing something wrong? Non Nocere was conceived to remove one of humanity’s biggest flaws, to remove one of the primary reasons for suffering. She’s doing it for the greater good. She’s doing a good thing. So, why is she here and not finishing it up? Maybe because deep down she knows that, no matter how good her intentions, this is not the way, deceiving everyone to achieve her goal.-Using Kara. -Like she used me! -Did she? -Yes! She lied for years! -Do you realize you’re trying to convince yourself of this?

Lena’s whole head hurts from how hard she’s clenching her jaw. Kara lied for years. A Super and a Luthor. She must have been using her, why else would she have lied for so long? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, and all that. The Luthor way. Making sure Lena walked the line. Saving your life, protecting you. Enough! Lena shakes her head again, harder, to silence the voice inside. It works, so she closes her eyes and sighs.

Then images start flashing: A helicopter spinning out of control towards the ground. The pilot unconscious, limp next to her. Bracing for a certain death that never comes.

“You’re safe now.”

Feeling suddenly sick. Knowing too late that something’s wrong with the coffee. Someone has posioned her and succeded at it. She clinging to consciousness, barely, dreaming of Kara saving her. Taking her in her arms and flying her up to safety.

“You were flying, and you were carrying me.”

Lena determined to protect Kara as they both face Mercy inside L Corp. They somehow managed to avoid the rain of bullets from the intruders and are now trapped in the labs with the armed enemy. But Lena’s armed too. She’l protect Kara, who seems eager to leave, which confuses Lena, she’s seen Kara square up to people before, especially to stand up for Lena. But she let’s her leave, she’ll be safer anyway. And then Supergirl is there, neutralizing Mercy in the blink of an eye.

“The Luthor name doesn’t deserve Lena.”

A half machine half man monstrosity trying to storm her newly rebranded company. She, braving an attempt at defense. An enormous metallic representation of said rebranding flying towards her, promising a sure, painful and fast death. She, bracing for the impact that never comes. Looking through her hands to see the Girl of Steel stumbling from the force of protecting Lena from it.

“Get out of here.”

She confronting Edge, who poisoned children in an attempt at getting back to Lena. She almost going through with killing him. Instead getting knocked out and strapped onto a doomed plane. Not only is she going to die, all her work to be good would be erased, her reputation. But, once more, it doesn’t come.

“No, I’m not going to drop you!”

Kara, sweet and dorky, suddenly stony facing Detective Sawyer, who’s come to take Lena into custody. Conviction in her blue eyes, sure of Lena’s innocence. Willing to face off with her sister’s girlfriend over it. Lena shocked at the protective display.

“Hold on, Maggie. Slow down. Just, let her explain.”

Supergirl trying to warn her of her mother’s terrorist endeavors. Not as in warning Lena to stir clear of it. Not as in warning her that she’s being watched. But as if to telling her to be careful, that she may be in danger. As if telling her Supergirl herself will protect her, if she’d let her.

“Be your own hero.”

She deliberatedly jumping off a cliff, after facing off with a terrorist organization. Pushing the buttom on the watch Kara gave her, to protect her, alway. With not a trace of doubt in her system that Kara would come to her rescue. Feeling the power of the lasers coming out of Kara’s eyes.

“What was that?”

Lena falling from her office balcony, thinking of her fear of heights, her fear of flying. Thinking of Kara listening to her falling to her death after a couple of her mother’s goons accidentally toppled her. Clutching to Kara’s voice as the last thing she hears. Until arms of steel catch her and making it feel like falling onto a cloud. Freezing breath rushing past her face, and still feeling warm.

“Dropped something?”

“I was having coffee with Kara Danvers.”

Lena, flanked by the Danvers Sisters coming into a dream realm to confront Sam’s demons. A monster wearing Sam’s face attacking them, lifting Lena by the neck, threateing to break it.

“Let her go! Take me, take me instead, please!”

Being kidnapped onto an alien ship. And invader alien ship. Almost forced to get married, to Kara’s boyfriend, no less. Getting rescued by Supergirl. Joining forces with her mom, who had previously joined forces with Supergirl, both putting their difference aside to save Lena. Creating a device that would eradicate the invading threat, but that included Kara’s love. Kara, devastated, but reassuring Lena that it was not her fault, that she did what she had to.

“Lena, you helped Supergirl save the world.”

Kidnapped by her mother, after being framed. Used to get to Lex’s arsenal of anti-alien weaponry. Supergirl crashing the site, knowingly risking her safety with Lilian, Metallo and Cyborg Superman surrounded by weapons designed to defeat a Kryptonian. Supergirl on her knees, in pain. Warning them of the risk of Metallo’s unstable kryptonite’s core. A potential explosion that could kill her. And still staying to carry Lena out of there, just in the nick of time.

“Kara Danvers believes in you.”

“You’re good, Lena.”

“So, my office is overflown with flowers.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

“I’ve never had friends like you.”

“I trust you.”

“Supergirl might have saved me. But you, Kara Danvers, you are my hero.”

Lena’s gasping, just now realizes she’s crying. What have I done? But there’s no time to think about it further. A crash coming from her balcony captures her attention, and she stands, drink still in hand, tears still rolling down her face. Supergirl struggles to keep upright: she’s pale, panting. Her eyes, as wild as her hair, searching her surroundings, until they find Lena. And it’s palpable how the relief fills Kara. Her shoulders sag and her eyes close.

“Lena.”

But Lena has not gotten over Supergirl, Kara’s state. And then she sees her hands. There’s blood and bruises there. There’s blood on Kara’s hands. Lena can’t take her eyes of the damaged limbs. She takes a couple of steps towards the hero.

“You’re bleeding.”

Kara seems to not have heard her. She looks at Myriad and lingers there. As if she’s trying to see through it. But can’t. She’s helping herself stay standing by bracing one shoulder on the balcony door. Turns to Lena again.

“Please, Lena. Don’t do this. Please.”

“Kara, you’re bleeding.”

“If you do this, Lena, if you do this there’s no going back.”

“Why are you bleeding?”

“Not like, for humanity. We’d be able to fix that. We’ve done it before. With Myriad. But for you, Lena. You’ll be devastated when your anger subsides.”

“Kara.”

“Please, Lena, you’ve worked so hard to leave your family’s bad name behind. It’ll be so much harder to come back if you do this.”

“Kara, stop.”

“No, no. You gotta listen. You can’t do this! It will hurt you!”

“Kara. You are bleeding!”

“What?” And finally, she looks down. At her hands. “Oh.”

Lena closes the distance between them. Takes Kara’s hands in hers. Inspects the damage. Her mind racing to understand what she’s seeing. Kara is Supergirl, she should not be bleeding. Now Lena can see that Kara is also shivering. From exertion or cold, Lena isn’t sure. Both, maybe. She’s still catching her breath.

“You punched your way out.” She says this and looks up at Kara’s face, she knows her eyes are wide with shock and her mouth is, too. A little. Lilian would be appalled. “Kara, why? The trap would have turned off in a couple of hours. I would never...”

“I know. I know but... it was so tight in there.”

“Tight?”

“The space was so small.”

“Oh. Oh! You’re... Are you claustrophobic?” Oh, no. No.

Kara shrugs, looks sideways at the desk. At Myriad. But she’s not trying to contain Lena, to restrain her. She’s not rushing to take Myriad, either. She’s trusting Lena to do listen, to do what’s right.

“Why? Kara why didn’t you... I didn’t know. I didn’t know if I would have. I would’ve not put you in there,”

“We both did things. Lena, I promise. I’ve only lied about my secret identity. And I know there’s no excuse, but I have plenty. And I’ll tell you all of them when you’re ready to hear them. But, please, you have to believe me: I never lied about us. I swear I was not using you. You must believe me, Lena, please!”

“I think I do, now. I’m... I’m still hurt and angry. But, I know. I realize you didn’t need to work so hard on protecting me. From experience, I know that masks fall faster than that. I was just... Hearing i from Lex, while I killed him was overpowering.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I gave him the chance to take that away from us. I’m sorry that yet again I was robbed of the opportunity to tell someone I love. And that it gave him such a way to hurt you. I’m sorry that it made you feel used and unloved. I love you Lena. I love you.”

Lena’s vision is blurry with tears. And it gets worse when Kara’s words paint a smile on Lena’s face. At some point she has dragged Kara to the couch, have them both sat down, and she’s yet to let go of the hero’s bruised hands.

“You do?”

“I do. Of course I do. I love you. I’d say it as much as you’d need.”

“Hold on.”

Lena stands despite Kara’s throughly confused expression. She raches for the first aid kit in the bathroom and sits back next to Kara. Starts tending to the wonds, a little worried that hey don’t seem to be healing by themselves. But not wanting to draw attention to it. Kara watches her work in silence, with the occasional flinch or hiss of pain.

“You may want to reconsider your offer. I don’t think I’ll ever tired of you saying it.”

Kara looks lost for a second, until her face clears of all confusion. She smiles.

“I don’t have a problem with that.”

“I’m going to have to work on myself and my issues, though. Before we can really start to explore our relationship. In whichever form you’re willing to have it.”

“I’ll have to work on my issues, too. And we’ll work together on our relationship. I’ll have whatever you’rewilling to give me.”

And Lena almost says I’ll give you everything out loud. She finishes up tending to Kara’s wounds. And sighs.

“When should I expect the DEO to come and get me?” Kara frowns at her.

“Why would they come and get you?”

“I imagine Alex wants my head after wha I did?”

“Ales doesn’t know.” But Lena’s is too shocked to respond. “We’ll go and stop everything about the Non Nocere project. You’ll get Hope out of Eve, and we’ll deliver her to the authorities. Then we’ll all work together to stop Leviathan. Then, maybe after we worked through our stuff anough, we can tell the story as a funny story.”

“There’s not one funny thing about what’s happened.” Lena deadpans, because...

“I’m sure I can make it funny. I’m charming like that.” And Lena loves her cocky side. Lena loves all of her sides, she’s come to realize.

“Yes, you’re hilarious.”

Kara’s phone goes off before she can sass back and Lena can hear Alex voice through the speaker.

“Kara, finally. I was getting worried I couldn’t reach you or Lena.”

“We’re ok.” She says while holding her eyes to Lena’s. “I told her.” There’s a sigh on the other end of the call. Not dissapointed, nor angry. Just a sigh.

“Ok. I know you’ve wanted to tell her for a while. And I know you feel like your secret affects more than just you, Kara. But it’s ultimately yours to share. We’ve all have done it for you enough times. I also know you’re worried about the DEO trapping Lena with the excuse of confidentiality. But I promise you I won’t let that happen. How did she take it?”

“Well... I mean, she’s hurt. And I think we’re goin to have to work that out. But...” She let’s the sentence hang for a second, looking at Lena, who nods. “But, we’ll be all right.”

“I know you guys will. Now, enough sentimentality. What about the plan?”

“We found Eve, we’re about to intercept her and bringing her into cosudy. Then we can start working on the rest of the bad guys.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you guys soon. Would you need back-up?”

“No, we’ve got it.” She ends the call and stands, walking towards the balcony. Lena stays put, an eyebrow lifting in amussement.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To get Eve? Hope? Both?”

“We’re not flying, Kara. You can barely walk.” She can see Kara about to argue, so she activates the portal and gestures to it, expectantly. “Shall we?”

“Show-off.” Kara grumbles as she walks through it and Lena and her laugh follow her. Yes, they’ll be all right.

#Supercorp #Supercorp prompt #Supercorp fic #Anonymous

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apparitionism · 3 years

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Why

I want to wish a very happy Gift Exchange Day to @mysensitiveside ! This gift, a short and sweet AU, will keep on giving for a while, in that I wasn’t able to fling the whole thing across the finish line for you today. (No surprise, I’m sure, given my posting pace over the past... um... some time.) A second part will appear sooner rather than later, however, and I hope that the whole thing will be to your liking. Thanks of course go to @kla1991 for the organization of the whole @bering-and-wells-exchange extravaganza... and I do just want to say that, as for my own reasons (reasons as such being quite relevant to this story), I still love Myka and Helena, and everybody in this bar, very much.

Why

“Why are you here?” Myka Bering asked of the dog she discovered in the hallway, gazing up at her, when she opened the door of her apartment one Saturday morning.

The dog blinked.

“Aren’t you Sam’s dog?”

The dog blinked again.

Things happen for a reason.

Myka had always been sure of that. So much so that it had shaped her idea of heaven: surely, the experience of paradise was nothing more, less, or other than finally being in possession of all the reasons.

When she was small, her “WHY?” refrain hadn’t distinguished her from her peers, but while most other children eventually gave up the incessant repetitions of that question, she never did. She discovered early on, however, that knowing whom to ask made an enormous difference in the quality of the answers she received: her mother’s exasperated “Because” was endlessly frustrating, as was her father’s equally unsatisfying “It’s magic.”

Which was why she became a research chemist, her choice of career happening for just that reason: it was always going to be a science of some sort, for the “why” questions—which she tended to ask internally now—had answers, if she put enough effort into finding them.

So it struck her as strange, that morning, to find herself asking “why” of a neighbor’s dog, out loud. The quality of any answer she got wasn’t likely to be high.

She had never seen the dog this dirty before. He... was it a he? maybe? she thought she’d heard “boy” at some point... had always seemed a little disheveled, his coat fluffed but lopsided, like he always slept on it wrong and nobody bothered with a comb. But never like this. Never with actual dirt.

She picked up the dog—he weighed less than she expected; she hadn’t realized how much of him was fur—and with some trepidation went to knock on Sam’s door.

No answer.

Myka took the dog back to her apartment. “Are you hungry?” she asked him. He blinked.

She had no idea what dogs ate, other than dog food, and she had no dog food.

She discovered that dogs ate several slices of cheese, a ham sandwich, a peanut butter sandwich, and a corn tortilla. Then dogs took a nap, no doubt exhausted from all the eating.

After numerous fruitless attempts at Sam’s door throughout the day, Myka called Mr. Nielsen, the super. “Sam moved out,” she was told. “Couple weeks ago. No forwarding address.”

“But I have his dog.”

“That’s nice of you,” Mr. Nielsen said.

“You don’t understand. I didn’t intend to have his dog.”

“Then maybe it isn’t nice. It’s not my problem either way.” He hung up.

Myka hadn’t liked Sam. He had asked her out, and she had said no, because he made her nervous. Anyone asking her out made her nervous, but this felt... different. She sensed she’d been right to turn him down, for he got visibly offended, in a way that made her even more nervous, such that she avoided him as much as possible afterward. He didn’t seem like a good person. But to move away and leave his dog behind?

She considered taking the dog to the animal shelter. What was she going to do with a dog? “What am I going to do with a dog?” she asked the dog in question. He blinked.

“I guess it’s you and me, dog,” she said after that Saturday turned into a weekend, the weekend into a week, one week into two.

And he looked at her as if to ask not “why?” but “what took you so long?”

She bought a leash. A bed. Actual dog food. So many products. “I’ve never shopped this much for myself,” she told him. She couldn’t decipher his blink in response to that information. Was it “But of course you should buy more for me” or “You should buy more for yourself”?

As it happened, he was a responsibility in ways she had not expected to enjoy. She had to leave work at midday, every day, to go home and walk him. She had that thing to do, and she did it. Her lab neighbor Abigail teased her about the dog being just an excuse to escape the lab, an excuse who probably didn’t even exist. “He’s real,” Myka protested. “I even had to come up with a name for him.”

Abigail laughed. “Sure you did.”

“Leukotriene.”

Pause. “Okay, now I’m convinced. Mostly. But I still want photo evidence.”

It hadn’t occurred to Myka to take a picture of the newly named Leukotriene, but she did so that night. She included a ruler in the photo for scale, lest Abigail mistake him for a Pomeranian, which was the breed—as far as Myka could tell, given her limited dog knowledge—he most resembled. The next day, “That’s him,” she said.

“Your dog.”

“I guess so.”

“He’s really... pretty.”

At home that night, she told him, “Abigail thinks you’re pretty.” He did the blink. “Yes,” she affirmed, “I do too.”

She shortened his name to “Leuko.” He didn’t seem to hate it. Then again, he wasn’t very vocal, positively or negatively.

She took him on walks, increasingly long ones, on the winding trails of the city’s largest park. She had never been a walker, but Leuko was... well, no: he was a trotter. A delighted, peppy trotter. Myka tried to match his bright energy, but she didn’t ever feel the same shine. It made her unaccountably happy, though, to see him that happy.

When she bathed him, he suffered it (no bright energy there), but she had a sense that he knew how impressive he looked when he was clean. His fluffy tan coat expanded into even greater glossy magnificence, an invitation to sink fingers in, and it rewarded the venture.

The best part, though, was when she would sit on the sofa, reading a journal or, less frequently, a novel, and he would lie against her, sighing as she rested her hand against his soft, warm body.

It was easy to forget that Sam had ever existed. Easy to sink into the belief that she and Leuko had always been a team. That this new texture of her life—this sneaky, responsibility-laden velvet—was a reality that had simply been held in abeyance until the right time. And now was that time.

One Saturday, as they walked in a nearly empty park, enjoying an early cold snap, Myka heard from a great distance an exclamation: “Monty!” She wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but suddenly her leash hand was empty, and Leuko was tearing across an open field, toward a solitary female figure, barking, making noise like he’d finally learned, or just remembered, that he had a voice.

Myka took off after him, drawing near at the moment he leapt—yes, leapt—into the woman’s arms.

She was striking, with dark eyes that rhymed with Leuko’s... in fact, she rhymed entirely with him, with his beauty. She looked up from him to Myka, those dark eyes widening, seemingly shocked to find another person present. “This is my dog,” she said, a little halting, as if she were trying the words out. Or as if she were coaxing them back into her mouth from far away.

Myka’s breath seized. “No,” she said, forcing the word out. “He’s my dog.”

“He is not. He’s mine. You can see it.”

Myka could see it. It drove ice in her heart to see it, to see him so ecstatic to see someone else, but it was there to be seen. It was there to be heard, too: Myka would never, she was sure, forget that declarative bark.

“He was lost for so long. How did you come to have him?” the woman asked, and Myka, trying to hide that heart-ice, explained about Sam. The woman said, shortly and with pain, “So that’s what happened.” She didn’t offer anything more, and while Myka wasn’t the most sensitive of souls, she could tell that this was not the sort of thing a stranger could ask any question about, not why or wherefore or anything at all.

A stranger. She was a stranger to both of them now, this woman and her dog, a stranger in their way, on the path in front of them—on a path she never should have been on in the first place. And if there was one thing Myka knew how to do, it was get out of the way.

She tried, mightily, to tell herself that that was what she should do: just step away. Let them carry on down the path. You didn’t have a dog before, and you were fine.

Leuko—Monty—looked at her from his perch in the woman’s arms. He blinked.

In response to that, Myka found herself babbling, “Can I... I mean, would you maybe let me... walk him sometime? Because he and I. I mean, or maybe just me. I. I’ll miss... it all.”

“I’m disinclined to let him out of my sight,” the woman said, with seeming care.

Myka didn’t have to ask why. “I don’t mean alone,” she said. “Just to see him.”

The woman looked at the dog in her arms. Did he blink? Whatever he showed her, it was enough. “All right,” she said. “Next week?” At Myka’s nod, she continued, “I should introduce myself. I’m Helena Wells.”

Myka understood even that was a matter of trust. “I’m Myka Bering,” she said, “and let me give you my number so you—”

“I’d rather not,” Helena Wells said, with the same care.

Not overmuch trust. “I can bring you what I bought for him,” Myka said, and maybe it was a flail to show that Helena Wells did not need to doubt her intentions. “If you want.”

“Thank you, but I still have all his things. Always holding out hope.” She said that with a quirk of her lip that Myka envied. Hope—what was it?

But of course Helena Wells had held out hope. Even after Myka’s own short time with Leuko—Monty—she would have done the same thing. Had he suddenly been gone, had she not known why.

The next Saturday morning, Myka spent some time pondering a very strange question: what do you wear to walk your ex-dog with someone who probably wants to forget that you exist?

The relief Myka felt when Helena and Leuko—Monty—appeared... it nearly felled her. There he is, she thought, and he’s all right. Not that she had expected anything different, but it was a relief. After a week she had not understood as a ratcheting up of anxiety, she at last felt relief.

They walked, side by side, Leuko—no, Monty—leading the way, shining even more brightly than Myka had known he could. “I didn’t intend to have your dog,” Myka started. “I didn’t mean to keep him... I mean, to keep him from you. The super can testify to the timeline, and I—”

“It’s all right,” Helena said. “I see that.”

“But I’m trying to tell you why this happened.”

“It doesn’t matter why. He’s here, and I told you, it’s all right.”

“Of course it matters! You’d care if I did try to steal him.”

“But you didn’t,” Helena said, and her words were gentle. “You cared for him. You didn’t have to.”

That left Myka strangely perplexed, because now, in retrospect, what else could have happened? “Of course I did.”

And Leuko—no, Monty—looked up at her, and he did the blink, and Myka knew what it meant: “Of course you did.”

Meeting, walking. They fell into a regular Saturday-walk schedule. As the weeks progressed, Myka’s anxiety gave way to, made room for, anticipation. Leuko—Monty—never barked when he saw Myka, but he did pull on the leash as she approached and gave her a nuzzle when she knelt to greet him.

“Why did you name him Monty?” Myka asked, one Saturday.

That made Helena smile. “I didn’t. His breeder did.”

“His breeder?”

“He’s a Mittelspitz.”

“He’s... a medium? A medium spitz?” Well, that explained his looking like a Pomeranian.

“Precisely.”

Myka felt dim. “But what does that have to do with being called Monty?”

“Nothing, as far as I know. The breeder named his litter after the stars of A Place in the Sun; he’s Montgomery Clift. His sister is Shelley Winters, and his brother is Elizabeth Taylor.”

“His brother? Why?” Myka really did try to limit the asking of that question out loud, but this seemed extra-justified.

“He’s even more beautiful than Monty.”

Did Monty the Mittelspitz turn his head and harrumph at such blasphemy? Myka surely was imagining that. He must have just seen a squirrel. “Poor Shelley Winters, though,” Myka said.

Helena laughed... and Myka felt that she should name that laugh “Elizabeth Taylor” as well. Helena said, “No, no, she’s pretty too. A remarkably lovely litter, and in fact Shelley was the only one who was show quality. If beauty were all it took, Liz would have ruled the circuit.” Another harrumph. “Don’t pout, darling,” Helena said to the dog, then to Myka, “Why did you name him Leuko?”

“After a peptide,” Myka admitted. “Well, a group of peptides.”

“A peptide.”

That was an implicit “why,” and Myka was strangely comforted. “I’m a chemist,” she said.

“A chemist.” Helena furrowed her brow. “How funny that I didn’t know that. How have we not got around to professions?”

Myka wanted to say, “Because when we get close to anything about our real lives, one or both of us backs away.” They still had no contact outside the park, and even as they shared and deepened this strange long-walk familiarity, Myka did not know where the line was. Had it shifted? If not, would it ever? She tried, very cautiously, “I don’t know. Will you... will you tell me yours?”

“I teach writing.”

For some reason, Myka couldn’t hold back her next question, even though it was not justified: “Why?”

“I have knowledge and expertise to impart. Due to having studied writing. And having made a living in the past as a writer myself.”

“That’s a good reason,” Myka said, and she thought, That’s more than you’ve said about yourself in weeks of walks. Was something different about this day?

“Thank you. Though I may not need your imprimatur, I’m pleased to have it.”

Was she... teasing? “I like good reasons,” Myka tried to explain.

“Good reasons. Recognizing them is not inapplicable to the craft of writing.” Helena said this with a funny little bow of her head.

Myka’s facial capillaries flooded with blood.

She knew why, but she hid the answer in her heart, for she remembered all too well Helena’s desolate “So that’s what happened.”

On one of their earlier walks, they had run into Abigail. “How’s little Leukotriene?” she asked. “Or I guess he’s not so little. That’s weird; I thought he was a Pom.”

Myka resisted the impulse to remind her of the ruler in the photo.

The next day, “Who’s your girlfriend?” Abigail asked.

It was the first time Myka really registered that she had continued her habit of going home in the middle of the day. To no purpose at all, she went home, stood in her kitchen, ate a sandwich that no one else wanted any of, and then went back to the lab. It was not a responsibility anymore, and it did nothing for her. She resolved to stop.

“Not my girlfriend,” Myka said, but she was appalled at herself: for a rash moment, she had wanted to let Abigail believe otherwise.

“Walking your dog with her?”

“Not my dog.” On that point, of course, Myka wished she could let herself believe otherwise.

“Pretty sure the dog matched that picture you showed me.”

“He’s her dog.”

“You were trying to pass your girlfriend’s dog off as yours?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. And he was my dog... for a minute.”

Walking in the park every week was not a responsibility. It was a reward.

And as Myka enjoyed her reward, each week, she studied Helena’s face, listened to her words. She tried to tell herself she was merely continuing to assess Helena’s relationship with Leuko. No: Monty. And she was doing that... but she was doing so much more.

How much could Myka continue to hide in her heart? And for how long?

As if in answer, the Saturday following their “professions” discussion, Helena (and Leuko—no, Monty) failed to appear. Myka, desolate at the absence of them both, walked by herself. It was terrible.

The park was empty of them the following week as well. Still, Myka walked, taking the isolation as her punishment for having misunderstood lines and crossing them, for having been so foolish as to let any part of her secret heart show on her face.

The aftermath of that second lonely walk left Myka restless, anxious. Should she try to find Helena and ask her why she had so abruptly decided against... whatever they were doing? Could she then beg her to reconsider walking a dog together to no purpose? “I’ll stop wanting anything more than that,” Myka thought to tell her. “I promise.”

But of course trying to find her was out of the question; if Helena didn’t want even to walk with Myka, she surely didn’t want to be stalked by her.

So Myka did the only thing she could do: the next Saturday, she returned again to the park. And she hoped.

TBC

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #Why #B&W Holiday Gift Exchange #bering and wells gift exchange #bering and wells exchange #mysensitiveside

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shirtlesssammy · 4 years

Text

10x03: Soul Survivor

A priest blesses a whole blood bank of blood before Doctor Sam loads up on supplies.

Back at the bunker, Sam heads to the dungeon and a trussed up Demon!Dean. Let the blood cleansing begin!

Dean tells Sam to just let him. He doesn’t want this. He has the Mark of Cain. Sam throws holy water on him and shoots him with his first vial of blood.

Cas and Hannah are road tripping in the Pimpmobile. Hannah wonders how Cas is doing. “Fine.” Narrator: He was not fine. Cas explains to Hannah it’s a very human thing to do --to say you’re fine, but you’re really not, so you avoid talking about things. Well, fling me off a cliff because Cas gets Dean SO WELL but just rolls with his inability to talk because it’s the human way.

Profile Porn Alert:

Hannah can’t believe that Cas agreed to head back to the bunker to help Sam --or that Sam would ask that considering Cas’s failing grace. Cas admits that Sam doesn’t know, and he’ll need Cas’s help to deal with Dean. If the sanctified blood cure doesn’t work, then Dean is gone and they’ll have to deal with the demon. HIIISSSS. Cas just accepts his role but he’s doing it for Dean.

Dean, meanwhile, mocks Sam’s efforts and the Winchester Way™. Dean compares who he is now to Sam, and what Sam did to find him. “Which one of us is really the monster?”

Flashback to Sam talking with a down on his luck dude at a bar.

His wife kicked him out, and she’s been cheating on him. He wants revenge. Sam tells him he could get payback, if he wants. Sam helps the poor schlub to make a demon deal. Lester makes the deal, and Sam traps the demon to find out where Crowley and Dean are.

In real time, Dean continues to mock Sam for being worse than him. Lester lost his life and soul. Sam injects him with more blood.

In Crowley-land, he’s taking care of Hell business when a demon gives him an update on Castiel. His grace is fading. The demon suggests now would be a good time to eliminate the angel. Crowley tells him to tail him and keep him up to date on his decline.

Crowley takes a moment to relive his summer of love with Dean. It’s hard saying goodbye to an ex, Crowley. Super awkward when you’re caught dissociating while ruling Hell though. The demon that interrupted Crowley offers himself as a companion.

“You’ll see what I’m worth,” he insists. Crowley snaps him into dust. C’est la vie.

Cas is getting worse. He will not take more grace from another angel, and he doesn’t want to beg Metatron for his own grace. Hannah insists that he needs to be here to help Dean, to get the angels under control. Cas, taking a book from his drama llama boyfriend, insists that Hannah continues on without him.

Cas gets a call from Sam checking in. Dean’s in pain going through this cleansing. Sam could be killing his brother. Cas makes it clear that they need to stay the course. The purified blood ritual is their only known option.

Once off the phone, Sam notices that Dean’s passed out. He rouses him, only for Dean to continue trying to put a wedge between them, to stop Sam from trying to save him. “You don’t get to quit on this family.” I appreciate the sentiment, Sam. Sam injects Dean with more blood and walks away.

Crowley’s busy laying out death sentences to demons in Hell. A demon wonders why they should be loyal to him now, after flirting with being human and running off with his “boy toy”. The demon isn’t going to live in Crowley’s Hell, and sets himself on fire.

At a gas station Cas and Hannah have a forthright conversation. Lol, jk, Cas talks about “dangerous roads” and “no detours.” Hannah begs for him to speak outside of metaphor. But it’s HARD! They need total focus on the saving-Dean and/or finding-angels missions.

“I’ve been around humans long enough to see how easily distractions occur,” Cas tells Hannah, who gives him some exasperated bitchface in return. “Emotions. Feelings. They’re dangerous temptations,” he warns. CAS, for fuck’s sake, you should never learn emotional management from a Winchester.

Hannah declares that she’s super clear on Castiel’s priorities, and whirls off into the gas station. Inside, there are snacks and a dead station attendant with his eyes burned out. Urg. Cas follows, only to discover the angel Adina (previously of Daniel and Adina fame) holding Hannah captive. Cas struggles to haul out his blade, and Adina starts tearing into him. He suggests that she kill him and let Hannah go. CAAAAS BBY. Adina’s not in a forgiving mood and she’d like to kill him slowly, villain speech, villain speech.

Sam heads into Dean’s bedroom during his break and discovers many token Dean identifiers worthy of a fanfic. There’s porn on the bench seat and a pie container nearby with just a few meaningfully unfinished bites left. Slipped in a hunting notepad are old family photos. Sam sifts through the photos, to mournful music.

At the gas station, a pair of expensive shoes approaches. Crowley’s attached to them. He smiles down at a severely injured Castiel.

Sam heads back to finish demon detox only to discover…

I don’t know why the dramatic zoom in on the chair makes me laugh but...had to include it. Sam discovers his brother is missing! As the kids say, dun dun DUN!

Adina torments Hannah, eager for her suffering in retribution for the loss of Daniel. Crowley arrives in a cloud of snark, slices Adina’s grace out of her, and then stabs her dead while Hannah glares at him.

In the bunker, Sam looks for his brother. Dean does the same, except there be REDRUM in them thar eyes. Dean grabs a hammer, and Sam grabs a ring of old keys.

Crowley offers up Adina’s grace to Cas, declaring that the kill was done to save Hannah’s life and that Cas’s “hands are clean.”

“You’re useless to me dead,” Crowley says lovingly as he pours Adina’s grace into Cas. Light suffuses Cas and restores him to strength and health. Crowley suggests that one good turn deserves another. Dean Winchester has turned out to be a real pill to manage, so if Cas could just take his newfound strength and take care of the Dean problem that would be greeeaaat. Cas warns that he may have to kill Dean. “I’m not sentimental,” Crowley lies.

Sam and Dean continue to play murder hide and seek. Sam heads into the electrical room and shuts down the bunker so that Dean can’t escape out the doors. Dean reveals that he doesn’t want to leave! Why would he leave when a lovely MURDER PARTY is about to begin?

Dean indulges in a little exposition while he’s stalking Sam through the bunker. The demon cure was working, making him just human enough to be able to slip out of his bonds and out of the devil’s trap. Sam manages to trap Dean into the electrical room, but Dean starts to break through the door with his hammer. “You act like I wanna be cured,” Dean shouts at him. “Personally, I like the disease.”

Sam scolds him for busting up the bunker and threatens to use the demon blade on him. Oh Sam. Suuuuure you will. Dean’s cool with this turn of events, as he’s feeling ready to murder immediately. Dean manages to sneak up on Sam, but Sam Fucking Winchester has the reflexes of a cat and immediately gets the knife to Dean’s throat.

It’s looking pretty unfortunate for our heroes when Cas catches hold of Dean. “It’s over,” Castiel says firmly. VERY firmly. Wink wink.

For The Gag Reel Can Never Be Unseen Science:

A little while later, Dean’s back in the chair bearing another hit of sanctified blood. Sam and Cas look on, fretting over Dean. Castiel muses that only humans can feel real joy. Or such profound pain. No wonder why Dean struggles away from his humanity.

Dean wakes up and black recedes from his eyes. He shakes his head a few times. “You look worried, fellas,” he says in a wry tone and then weathers Sam’s holy water splash. He’s cured!

In the library, Sam and Cas talk over the evening. Cas rains all over Sam’s happy parade: Dean still bears the Mark of Cain and things could still get bad. Sam chooses to ignore this and head out to buy junk food for Dean.

In his bedroom, Dean sorts through family pictures. When Cas stops by, he greets him with “You look terrible.” Dean accepts this as his due, and notes that Cas is looking good. REAL GOOD.

Cas very poorly explains his current situation. “Crowley. Stolen grace. There’s a female outside in the car.” CAS PLZ. Dean moves past this confusing word salad and asks if Sam has forgiven him. Cas assures him that Sam would forgive him anything, including attempted murder-by-hammer. Cas suggests to Dean that he take some time off. It’s quiet out there, after all.

In a fancy hotel room, blood drips from the ceiling onto a red haired witch. The blood falls from two hotel employees and the witch is….ROWENA!

Will You Be My Quote? Check YES or NO:

Sammy, you know I hate shots

That line that we thought was so clear between us and the things that we hunted, ain’t so clear is it?

I, too, love to party. And I do love the ladies. And the classic rock-and-roll

Sometimes enough is whatever you have

You act like I want to be cured. Personally I like the disease

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn rewatch #spn recap #spn 10x03 #soul survivor #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #Hannah #crowley #supernatural season 10

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years

Text

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E6; Chapter Six, The Spy - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Will’s connection to a shadowy evil grows stronger, but no one’s quite sure how to stop it. Elsewhere, Dustin and Steve forge an unlikely bond.

||3rd Person POV||

The cubes of meat hit the wooden boards with a wet slap. Traveling along the abandoned tracks is Dustin and Steve, each carrying a bucket of butchered meat. Their bait.

"All right, so let me get this straight," Steve sighs, looking at the boy just paces ahead of him. "You kept something you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who... who you just met?"

Dustin rolls his eyes, sighing irritably as he throws more bait on the track.

"All right, that's grossly oversimplifying things."

Steve shakes his head.

"I mean, why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?"

"An interdimensional slug?" Dustin smirks. "Because it's awesome."

Steve picked up his pace, making his way to Dustin's side.

"Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she didn't, I... I just..." he shrugs, his lips forming a tight-lipped smile. "I don't know. I just feel like you're trying way too hard."

"Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?"

"It's not about the hair, man," Steve says, shrugging once more as he lazily kicks a stray pinecone from his path. "The key to girls is just... just acting like you don't care."

Dustin looks at him curiously, not expecting the insight.

"Even if you do?"

Steve nods. "Yeah, exactly m. If drives them nuts."

"Then what?"

"You just wait until, uh..." he pauses to throw another chuckle of bait behind him. "until you feel it."

"Feel what?"

"It's like before it's gonna storm, you know? You can't see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?"

A spark of recognition flickers across Dustin's face, and he nods eagerly.

"Oh, like the electromagnetic field when the clouds in the atmosphere--"

Steve shakes his head, an unimpressed look on his face. He head flicks to the side, sweeping away a stray lock of hair tickling his forehead.

"No, no, no, no, no. Like a... Like a sexual electricity."

A look of surprise crosses Dustin's face.

"Oh,"

The longer the day stretched on, the more Steve is bewildered at the ever-changing events he could never have foreseen. Nevertheless, he gestures to Dustin as he continues.

"You feel that and then you make your move."

There is a brief pause before Dustin asks simply.

"So that's when you kiss her?"

Steve's eyes widen, and he can't decide whether he should roll his eyes or laugh.

"No, whoa, whoa. Slow down, Romeo."

"Sorry." He mumbles.

"Sure, okay, some girls, yeah, they want you to he aggressive. You know, strong, hot and heavy, like a..." He shrugs once more, looking back at the boy who had begun to lag shyly behind. "I don't know, like a lion."

Dustin hums thoughtfully, his gloved hand reaching inside the white steel bucket as he listens.

"But others, you gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy, like a..."

His mind travels back in time for the briefest of moments, his heartwarming at the memory of sneaking innocent moments with Nancy Wheeler. He finds himself smiling.

"Like a ninja."

"What type is Nancy?"

And just like that, his smile falters.

"Nancy's different. She's different than the other girls."

"Yeah, she seems pretty special, I guess."

"Yeah. Yeah, she is."

"But this girl's special, too, you know. It's just, like, something about her."

"Woah, woah, woah. Hey, hey, hey" Steve says, stopping them in their tracks and he turns to face Dustin.

"What?"

Steve studies the boy's body language, eyeing him suspiciously.

"You're not falling in love with this girl, are you?"

It is clear to Steve that Dustin has grown shocked and slightly uncomfortable.

"Uh, no. No."

His suspicious stare lingers, but he continues them down the tracks.

"Okay, good. Don't."

"I won't."

His attention returns to the tracks and laying the bait but his thoughts continue to spill from his lips.

"She's only going to break your heart, and you're way too young for that shit."

A thick silence settles between the duo once more, a common theme so far. His thoughts now louder than ever, amplified in the silent autumn air and Steve feels his pity for the boy growing. The kid's got heart, he can tell, and despite his better judgment, he feels a soft spot growing for him.

"Fabergé."

It's Dustin's turn to give a quizzical look, his brow quickly quirks.

"What?"

Steve gestures to his full head of hair, failing to meet Dustin's eye.

"It's Faberegé Organics. Use the shampoo and conditioner, and when your hair's damp... It's not wet, okay? When's its damp..."

"-Damp."

"You do four puffs of the Farrah Fawcett spray."

Steve doesn't have to see the look on Dustin's face to know the kid is grinning madly. He can hear the smirk in his voice, Dustin is clearly holding back a snicker and already Steve is beginning to regret his decision.

"Farrah Fawcett spray?"

"Yeah, Farrah Fawcet." Steve halts once more, making sure he towers over the boy as he jabs a finger in his face. "You tell anyone I just told you that and your ass is grass. You're dead, Henderson. Do you understand?"

Dustin nods, suppressing his smile as he avoids Steve's gaze.

"Yup."

A new silence blankets the air, with it a new sense of commonality, and understanding. It's comfortable. Another smirk tugs at Dustin's lips as they continue their journey, laying slabs of meat.

"Farrah Fawcett, really?"

Steve shrugs.

"I mean, she's hot."

The tension melts away in the wake of their forming bonds of friendship, they share a smile and an occasional nod. They are each surprised by the unexpected comfort each other’s company brought. Unbeknownst to the pair, the farther they ventured, the closer they got to the decaying tunnels beneath their feet. And to their right, a bright yellow flag planted in the dirt, a marking made earlier by Hopper and his team that signaled rotting earth and decay.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Hopper's fingers release the button as he lets out a defeated sigh. He sits in his truck, radio in hand and he has sent their secret code to El, letting her know it was him. But his shoulders sag, he knows what he has to say needs to be spoken aloud, no translated. Guilt has been a heavyweight on his shoulders since their fight, his inability to mend their mistakes and all the things left unsaid. His time in the tunnels crosses his mind, and how fearful he was when he believed he wouldn't make it.

Not by death, so much. Of course, it was frightening, but what really bothered him - scared him - is what would happen to her if he never saw her again. Not only the way they had left things but what would become of her? How would she stay safe and who could truly know how to take care of her, nurture her. The last thing he wanted was to leave her on her own, and he certainly didn't want to risk going inside and dealing with the problem at hand, without talking to her.

Or least letting her know he was sorry.

So here he sat, his body hunched forward as he lay against the wheel, the radio grasped tightly in his hand. His voice shakey and his heartbreaking. He took a deep breath, and let the words spill out.

"Hey, it's, uh... It's me. I know that I've been gone too long, and uh... It's-- I just, I want you to know that it's not about you and it's not about our fight. Okay?"

His garbled voice rings out in the empty cabin, no one around to hear him but the several boxes are strewn around the room.

"Something came up, and I will... I will explain it all when I see you. I just... I just want you to know that I'm not mad."

His grip on the radio and his own hand grows tighter, he clutches it tightly like a lifeline. He can no longer fight the tears that threaten to spill, and his eyes go red and puffy.

"I'm just sorry. About everything."

The hot tears sting his eyes, he has to stop to collect himself as best he can but it is almost no use at all. His heart lurches, but for the first time in a long time, it is alive. He wishes with all his might that he can be there with her, comfort her. But he knows he can't. He continues to battle the enormous lump in his throat but it is winning.

"I don't want you to get hurt at all. And I don't want to lose you."

He chokes on his tears, but he feels the soft rumble deep within his chest where a weak chuckle forms. He sniffles and speaks once more into the machine.

"Just make sure you heat up some real food. Not just Eggos. And I want you to eat all the peas, even if they're mushy and gross. And..."

He sighs, knowing more than anything he intends to and will keep his next promise. He would move mountains to keep it, and has every intention of showing her, and himself, that he will be there for her.

"I will be home soon."

The monitor clicks off, and the car and the empty cabin go silent.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"This is him last week."

The photo on the projector slides into place and shifts into focus. A map of Will's brain, for the most part normal, but sprinkled across the grayscale map is several flurries of activity. Patches of red.

"And there are the hippocampal abnormalities we had discussed. Nothing out of line with what we've seen from others suffering from post-traumatic. But..."

The medical team is gathered in one of several conference rooms as one member of the staff tasked to the Byers case reviews with the team, including Dr. Sam Owens. The man sighs in worry, his elbow is propped up on the wooden conference table and he massages his temples worriedly as the slide changes. It's another map of Will's brain, but there is an extra flurry of activity that frightens them all.

"this is Will from last night. And as you can see, there are now abnormalities I'm the limbic and paralimbic areas. And this..."

The man grows increasingly unsettled, and with great reluctance he advances the slide. Aside from a few select spots on the brain, the picture is enveloped in red. The Brian is drowning in the virus and there is more red than black.

"is from an hour ago."

Not a soul in room remains still, every lab coat shuffles uncomfortably. And suddenly the papers in their hands have become overwhelming captivating. Attempting to hide his own discomfort, Owens turns to his team and gestures around the table.

"I don't hear any suggestions."

A colleague of his looks up from his papers, though his fingers still nervously fiddle with the edges of the files.

"We have bigger problems than the boy."

"Do we?" The man snaps.

"We can't keep delaying the burn." Another adds.

Agitated, Owens leans forward, his palm smacking the table.

"You're talking about putting... putting a Band-Aid on this." He stutters.

The first man speaks up.

"Right now, a Band-Aid is the best option."

"It's our only option."

Owens looks around the room aghast at his colleagues. They merely stared back, silently taking a stance.

"And if it kills the boy?" Owens spits.

"Then quite frankly, Sam, it kills him."

Owens stills in anger and disgust and jabs a finger in the man's direction.

"Say that to me again." He threatens.

The doctor that stands by the projector reluctantly speaks up.

"The rate this is spreading, he'll be lost by the end of the day. What we do or don't do won't change the outcome."

"We have to start the burn." The other states.

Owens takes one last look at his team, his eyes hold nothing but disgust. Huffing, he grabs his things from the table and jumps to his feet and storms for the door.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to think." He spits.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"What the hell is taking so long?" Joyce sighs.

She and Bob sit side by side to the right of Will's bedside. Her leg bounces up and down at an almost unnatural rate and she nervously wrings her hands.

"Hey," Bob assures. "doctors take forever, always. Just try and relax. Just be patient."

He reaches forward, briefly rubbing her knee in an attempt to soothe her nerves however he can. Taking his words to heart, Joyce takes a lingering breath and she tries to calm the storm of nerves in her stomach. But with every passing second, her nerves return. With every beep of the monitor is a harsh reminder than another second has passed.

Finally, she sighs as she shrugs the blanket off her shoulders.

"You know, I just..."

She slips through the door and marches to the end of the hall. The two guards stationed in from of the closed double doors tense as she approaches with no intention of stopping.

"Let me through. Let me through!" She orders, struggling against their arms.

"You know we can't do that."

"I need to talk to--"

"He'll be with you shortly."

"You said that an hour ago!"

Bob soon joins her side and attempts to calm her, and across the hall staring through the door is Will. He lays perfectly still on the bed, and the heart monitor starts to race beside him. With every beep of the monitor, his vision fluctuates. He is seeing but not with his own eyes, he is a passenger in his own body and yet all he can focus on is the gun holstered in the guard's belt.

《•••》

The figure, who had been properly equipped, aimed his device and a violent spurt of fire erupted from the end.

《•••》

Anger. That's all he can feel.

《•••》

The vines writhed and shrieked violently as they shriveled up.

《•••》

Will.

《•••》

Will convulsed uncontrollably, his limbs on fire, spreading as rapidly as the flames in the hub below.

《•••》

Will.

《•••》

He saw the visions. Like he was navigating the dark and cold tunnels, they never stopped moving and he knew they were out to kill.

•••

Will was panting heavily, but he slowly turned around coming face to face with the monster. It towered over the school, looking directly at Will.

《•••》

"Will?"

A warm hand touches his arm and he falls back to earth. The spike in his heart echoes in the room with the speedy beeps of the heart monitor. He hadn't registered that Mike had been speaking to him, trying to reach him. He looks to the boy who is watching him concerned.

"What's wrong? Are you hurting again?" Mike asks.

"Uh..."

Will tries desperately to speak but the things he wants to say don't come. Instead, he feels the undeniable urge to sit up. He does so, and more words come to his brain but they are not what he truly wants to say. There is a wild, demanding itch in his brain that he must extinguish.

"I saw something."

The itch subsides.

Unsuspecting, Mike listens intently with worry.

"In your now-memories?"

Against his better judgment - the small, dying voice in the corner of his brain that grows small and smaller yet - he continues to scratch the itch and he nods and leans closer.

"The shadow monster." He whispers. "I think I know how to stop him.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The sun has reached it's highest point when Dustin arrives at the familiar landscape of the old scrapyard, Steve by his side. He wears a proud grin as Steve gazes across the yard, nodding in agreement.

"Oh yeah. Yeah, this will do." Steve begins his descend down the small hill, shedding his sunglasses. "This will do just fine. Good call, dude."

His grin widens significantly, his chest welling in pride before he falls ik line with Steve. The two continue to sprinkle their bate trail behind them to the center of the yard. They dump the remanents of meat in a pile when they hear an approaching voice call out to them from the hill.

"I said medium-well!"

Dustin is relieved to see Lucas, he is beaming down at them as he sends them a wave. But his stomach plummets when he sees Max standing at his side. The two begin their descent down the hill and Steve wonders aloud.

"Who's that?"

He looks to Dustin when he doesn't answer, he sees the concerned and disbelieving glance he wears at the redhead. Suddenly, his mind clicks.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"You told her?" Dustin hisses.

Lucas and Dustin are huddled behind one of several abandoned vehicles exchanging hushed words. After proper introductions, Max and Steve have set to work and begun to build their base.

"So what?" Lucas says.

"'So what?'" Dustin laughs dryly.

"You wanted to tell her, too."

"But I didn't, all right? You know why?"

"You're chicken?" Lucas retorts.

Dustin rolls his eyes at Lucas's weak jab, and his anger only grows.

"Because not only does that put us, and Max for that matter, in danger, but Y/n especially! You know, my sister, the escaped experiment that the government lab could snatch up on any old whim? That sister?"

"They agreed to leave her alone, remember?"

"Like their word means shit! They faked Will's death to cover their own asses for fuck's sake. They don't exactly strike me as the caring, honorable type. Who's to say they won't ever change their minds and decide they want her back!"

Lucas shrinks back, regret flashes across his face as he takes in his words. He sighs.

"Look, I'm sorry about that, alright? I didn't think about it like that, but it's already done. And for what it's worth, I don't think she's gonna tell anyone."

"You don't know she won't tell, we just met her! What if she slips up? What if she's cornered and the information is forced out of her?"

It's Lucas's turn to roll his eyes, and he scoffs.

"Dude, you're spiraling. None of that's gonna happen."

Dustin sighs and shrugs his shoulders apathetically.

"Maybe I am and maybe it won't. The point is, we all agreed not to tell her and to look for Dart."

"Who you conveniently found."

"Are you suggesting that I'm lying?"

"I'm saying you have a creepy little bond with him."

"Yeah, that was before he turned into a Demogorgan."

"And you haven't heard from Y/n?"

Dustin's face scrunches up in anger at Lucas's mention of his sister.

"No."

"Or Mike?"

"No."

"Will?"

"No."

"Hopper?"

"No! No one is around. Why do you think I'm with Steve Harrington? Something's-"

"Wrong." Lucas finishes, sighing. "I agree. Which is why need as much help as we can get."

They both hear a soft grunt from across the yard and they rise to their feet and peek through the vacant window of the car. Max is piling several sheets of metal against the bus closing off weak spots underneath.

"She didn't believe me, anyway." Lucas says.

A small smirk forms on Dustin's face.

"You probably didn't tell it right."

They share a weak laugh and rise to face each other and Lucas extends his hand.

"So, we good?"

Dustin's eyes fall to his friend's hand and he smiles weakly.

"Hey!" A loud crash behind Dustin startles them and they turn to find Steve glaring at them."Dickheads! How come the only one helping me out is this random girl? We lose light in fourth minutes. Let's go."

They only stare at him as he retreats to the bus, reluctantly following. Steve gestures for them to move, his voice increasingly rising in anger.

"Let's go, I said!"

They pick up speed and each grumble a response.

"Alright, asshole!" Dustin snaps with a whine. "God!"

"Okay! Stupid."

+++

Tag List: @dickkwad @aimee-lucass @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa @miscellaneoustoasts @happyandlonely-blog @missmulti @youpi-chan @peeperparkour @ba-responds @bibliophilesquared @blogforhoes @witch-of-all-things-soft @shawni-h @whothefuckstolemykeds @mirdall @fandom-imagines-xxx @daughter-of-pan12 @stranger-things4

DM me if you want to be added!

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #cosmic #cosmic 2 #will byers x reader #will byers #mike walker #joyce byers #jim hopper #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #netflix #netflix stranger things #netflix st

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burning-clutch · 4 years

Text

A Garden Variety Ghost

Category: Gen,

Pairings: Jack/Maddie

Author: @burning-clutch (Team Ghost)

Characters: Danny, Jazz Maddie, Jack

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, and drug like effects

-.-.-.-.-.-

Ding Dong!

The doorbell ringing in the Fenton household was always an event for many different reasons. One main one being that Jack Fenton was like an overly excitable guard dog that could actually open doors to launch out into the streets at the wayward delivery personnel. So when a hapless U-ship worker came with a collection of boxes he was met with the Fenton Foamer and a number of prolific apologies from Maddie.

“So what did you order?” Jazz asked from her spot at the kitchen table, looking up from her book only briefly to eye the cardboard package hoping to discern something from its inconspicuous form.

Maddie placed the box on the table in front of Jazz while Jack bounced excitedly beside her. “We were checking old references in my old Fenton-Nightingale book and we found a few things detailed we wanted to try out!” he boomed excitedly giving a giddy chuckle as Maddie opened the box.

“Okay… and that means what for us exactly? Should I stay at a friend's for a week?” Jazz asked nervously peering into the box only to frown when she saw nothing but packets of cushioning.

“No no. It’s fine.” Maddie said with a wave of her hand pulling out the air cushions to get to the prize. “We’re just looking into the details of ghost plants.”

“Yeah! There were a few in here that said they did stuff to ghosts! And the main one was blood blossoms, but they’re practically extinct, and we weren’t able to get those, but we got all these other ones to experiment with! Now we just gotta catch a ghost and shove them onto it!” Jack said, pulling out a small package of seeds.

“As soon as the plants grow,” Maddie added with a laugh. “I suppose gardening can be fun too,” she mused. “Come on hun, let’s set up a Fenton Grow-op”

“You know how that sounds right?” Jazz sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Seriously it sounds like you guys are getting into illegal ghost drugs or something…”

The Fenton parents exchanged a look before shrugging. “Well if it only affects ghosts it’ll be fine.” Maddie waved off flippantly.

“Yeah Jazzy! It’ll give us a good insight into how they think then! If they think at all!” Jack added, his grin threatening to split his face.

“So you’re going to see if ghosts can trip out?” Jazz asked incredulously.

“For science!” Jack boomed, seeming to disregard his daughter's look of disbelief.

“Well not just that, we don’t really know the full effects these may or may not have. There are plants that attract, repel hurt and soothe ghosts.” Maddie explained gently taking the seeds that Jack was threatening to take off with. “Come on sweetie, let’s get these planted.” Maddie urged her husband to go down to the lab.

Jazz sighed before sending off a quick text to Danny, to avoid the lab for the next few weeks as much as possible.

Of course, that only worked for so long before Danny was told to clean the lab or else his parents would retaliate by taking away his computer for a week... And with the new Doomed update on its way it was a risk, he was willing to take.

He crept down into the lab cautiously, hovering in the doorway for a moment before making note of the potentially dangerous flora that was innocently hanging out beneath a plexiglass barrier and a bright sun lamp.

He double checked the mask on his face, a gas mask he had found in the garage, it had Duel Jack Fenton faces on either side of the filters but if it worked he would suffer from the embarrassment of wearing this stupid thing for a few hours.

If any of those plants were half as potent as the Blood Blossoms were he would be in trouble if even the pollen were to hit his skin… let alone if he were to inhale something like that…

With a shudder, he took a hesitant step into the preverbal lion’s den. “Why do both Sam and Tuck have to be busy today…” he groaned to himself as he finally landed on the lab’s floor.

He crinkled up his nose behind the mask and moved along the wall of the lab, always keeping his eyes on the plants as if they were going to come to life any second and attack him. Though in this household you never know…

When he finally made it to the shelf he pulled down a box of disposable nitrile gloves and snapped on a pair. Next, he reached for a pair of goggles, popping those onto his eyes. "Right," he said aloud to himself, now as protected as he was going to get without opting to wear a hazmat suit, which he hated the feel off on his human skin.

He stared at the plants across the lab a moment before deciding it would be best to start there first. Deal with the area most in danger then work outward.

He frowned in concentration as he began to clean the plexiglass. this was going well so far, good… this will work go-

"Danny boy!" Jack boomed as he entered the lab causing the teen to jolt in surprise. The action caused his arm that was holding the squeegee to be thrown upwards popping the sealed box open and releasing some sort of purple pollen from the container.

Danny winced seeing that, infinitely thankful for the mask he had on.

"Hey, you found the Fenton anti Ecto Gas mask!" Jack boomed, pulling the device free with a wide grin. "I've been looking everywhere for this baby! Now we can have taco nights again! Your mother refused to make them, cuz -a what happens at night after… well, you know how it goes'' He chuckled, giving his son a slap on the back in gratitude.

Danny just stared wide eyed at his father, there were so many reasons why he didn't need to know about his father's nighttime emissions, but moreover, he had just stolen the gasmask! the one thing that was stopping the… the…

"You're doing great Dann-o Just remember the gear isn't to play around with… Now I gotta show Maddie this babyˋs back!” Jack boomed leaving his glassy eyed son to stare off into the void, a dopey smile crossing his face.

What was he so worried about again? Danny blinked slowly as he stared down at the purple pollen. Right that… but why? This was relaxing… it was as if everything just melted away into the background. The scent from the pollen was intoxicating…

Wait… He blinked his eyes rapidly a few times to clear them. "What?" he stared down at the floor again. That had felt incredibly relaxing! and he felt rejuvenated and energized now!

He resolved then to figure out what plant it was that did that. it was like a ghostly energy drink! Maybe his parents had flubbed up again like with the ecto-dejecto? He smiled and looked towards the first flower that he could suspect the purple pollen came from.

The flower looked like some sort of purple pinkie sunflower, with a red tinted centre. Carefully Danny lifted the glass and poked the greenish leaves, before poking the centre of the plant. "Hm…." he stared at it blankly for a moment.

"Nope, nothing…" He mused this flower was a dud it seemed.

Moving on he found something that looked like a deep purple tulip, with blood red leaves. He found himself enraptured with this one even before he opened the glass. it was beautiful and he couldn't think of anything more lovely….

He had to have it.. it was… calling him…

without even thinking he shifted into ghost mode and phased his hand through to pluck the delicate flower from its stem. He stared at it perplexed a moment before stuffing his face into the plant's open petals, breathing deep and savouring its sweet scent.

He felt a bit like a cat when he was finally snapped out of his bliss and found himself rubbing his face all over the petals sticky bits of pollen now covered him.

He wrinkled his nose as he pulled off the sap like pollen onto his glove. It wasn't burning or hurting him so that was something at least… Something that Sam had once told him about plants sparked into his mind. Something about plants attracting certain things for pollinators?

Great, he was reduced to a but brain now… Though it would make sense if these things were probably grown in the ghost zone before having their seeds dispersed through the human realm

He glared at the remainder of what once was the tulip, a moment vaporizing the flower pulp to ash in revenge for his idiocy before moving on to the next one.

Curious now, he opened up the next plant in the line of the trays. This one was a large white flower with a lime green innard and as soon as the teen stuck his head in to examine it he recoiled in disgust.

It smelled awful! "Nope!" he shut the lid in such a hurry on that one.

Next to that was a ball shaped cluster of flowers that just seemed to make him angry more than anything. He shook his head and quickly moved on from that.

On and on he went examining the various plants, with varying degrees of nothing or something with such a small change that he couldn't even really decide if it was really the plant or not.

it was when he came back around to the mushrooms that his parents were growing that things got a little more… Recreational…

When he opened up the container to poke at a weird curling mushroom it exploded it's white and blue spores at him.

Danny grinned brightly a second later and found the world looked as if it suddenly had taken on a deeper saturation, and lights had large star trails following them.

including the ghostly glow that was on his body… That was simply fun to watch. how his fingers curled and flexed, then turned to mist and back to solid again. Why was this so fun? And since when did the lines in the floor turn to water? how did his parents get them to ripple like that?

Danny poked the floor with a toe and giggled as he can see the soundwaves from the clack, incredibly loud on the floor, ripple out in the pond that became of the metal. The portal to the ghost zone spinning became still the longer Danny stared at it, it was lucid and wondrous and well… trippy.

Danny hardly noticed when a grumbling Maddie entered the basement lab holding the infernal Gasmask. The last thing she needed right now was her husband's- "Wh-What's...?" She trailed off, blinking in confusion as she stared at Phantom.

The ghost was logrolling, though staying perfectly still otherwise in the air, all the while staring at the ghost portal.

While the huntress's first instinct was to toss a net at the infernal ghost to catch him, she hesitated upon noticing some of the flowers she had been cultivating had been messed with.

Well, then this was a potential scientific breakthrough that she probably won't get another chance to have… A lucid highly human like, and sapient ghost had taken some of her plants for seemingly recreational purposes….

“Phantom. Why are you here?” Maddie asked in the most authoritative voice she could muster with the smirk pulling at her lips. the Famed and controversial hero, Phantom. high as a kite and spinning madly at the ghost portal like he was trying to find an end to the endless swirls.

The ghost startled at her voice stealing his endless spinning to stare at her upside down. The ghost's pupils were glowing brightly, and the iris had grown wide enough to be seen within the glowing orbs.

"Mom!" he gasped out, mouth falling open in his shock, as he blinked his wide eyes, and clicked his green tinted tongue as if he'd suddenly tasted something utterly foul.

Maddie raised an eyebrow at the comment. There wouldn't be any way Phantom would or should remember his human life to any capacity… It was most likely a result of whatever plant the creature had gotten into… Still…

She figured she could use it to her advantage.

Without disputing or reprimanding the ghost for his claim she simply moved onto more important matters."What on earth did you get into?"

Phantom stilled at that, he stopped his movements and did his best imitation of a statue, somehow, incredibly, it still had some sense that forced him to keep up a compulsion that made it look like he was breathing.

"I- um… I," he stammered staring at her with wide wild eyes. "I'm sorry Mom! I wanted to tell you!" He called, his eyes were starting to water now.

How did she find out?! Did she see him transform? Actually, when did he transform? Why was everything moving? How… How did she…

Maddie tilted her head watching the ghost curiously. He did remember his mother than to some degree it seems…Was he still around only because he was looking to confess to his family?

Actually, now that she was able to see him up close… He really looked like a child… She took a couple of steps forward towards the ghost, who sniffed and wiped his face on his sleeve.

Despite herself, she asked him "Is that the only reason you're still here? because you never got to tell your family you'd died?" What a horrible thought? A child taken and killed, the parents and family left behind not knowing what happened to him.

“Not exactly… I mean I always wanted to tell you guys... But I just… There were so many ghosts attacking… Then you were saying Phantom was no good… And I tried to be as good as I can!” he sniffed. He was very much not in the right headspace for this to be happening right now…

Maddie seemed to shift and shimmer stretch and bend. The teen suddenly found himself tunnelling in on the jumpsuit Maddie was wearing. The teal colour that bled into the black accents. The smooth rubberized feel and slight crinkling as she moved and shifted. It squeaks…. He could just barely make out the zipper under her neck tucked into the collar jostling slightly as she breathes. He remembered being held as a kid and staring up at that zipper… she would cradle him on his back and he would stare up at it and…

“Phantom what-” Maddie never got to finish as the ghost slammed into her. He curled around her. like a dog jumping into her arms. His ghostly tail wrapped around her arm and around her waist, as he looked up at her with bright green eyes, and overly enlarged pupils.

“I- I’m so sorry mum…” Danny sniffled out before burying his face in her shoulder tightly squeezing her as he sobs.

Maddie was trapped by the ghost now, unable to move her arms from the hug, or legs without tripping herself up in his tail. She stares incredulously down at the white mop of hair that was just under her nose… so lifelike and soft, like real human hair…

Though now that she was right up to him like this, she noticed other oddities too. The texture of his suit and the skin that she could see from his face was incredibly detailed. He had freckles even! She could see every individual hair on his head unlike other ghosts that had more of a blanket effect, whispy and fuzzy but not really hair…

The thing that really drew her eye, however, was the jumpsuit. Or more specifically the clasp at the back of the ghost's collar… An emblazoned F a distinct design that she knew all too well. One she herself helped Jack to design… This was undoubtedly at one time a proper Fenton jumpsuit…

Which means this child… this child who was no older than Danny, he was probably one of his friends! In a borrowed jumpsuit no less! But if someone had borrowed a suit and got killed in it somehow surely she’d have noticed…

The ghost shifted allowing her to move and giving her freedom of her one arm. His core seemed to buzz in his chest as he held her ever tightly. “This is .. nice… I … was so worried about how you’d take this all…. I… I was stupid…” he shuddered as he spoke each word coming out with rapid and haggard breaths.

“It’s fine... “ Maddie offered, though her mind was a million miles west as she pondered over the clasps. She needed answers… Reaching over into the plants she pulled out something that looked like a queen's Ann’s lace but with bright blue flowers.

She stuffed Phantom's nose in the flower and watched with mild relief as the ghost’s eyelids drooped and closed. She sighed again as his tail loosened up around her and she slumped against her. “Well, at least I know that one works” She mused aloud.

Not even a second later Phantom sighs deeply and a bright ring flared at his waist, causing Maddie to yelp and drop the ghost on the ground thinking an attack was building.

Instead, she was mildly perplexed as it continued to wash over Phantom, bathing the ghost in light as he changed. Everywhere the light washed over, the colours of the ghost seemed to invert until it passed over his head.

“D-Danny?” Maddie whispered out in surprise. She was thinking of all the experiments she could run but now… her mind stalled as she stared down at the prone form of her son. What happened to make him like this? Was it even really her son or was phantom somehow still awake enough to pull a trick like this? Making her see her Danny instead of…

Instead of Danny Phantom.

“Oh-Oh God…” Maddie gasped and slid next to her son, scooping him up into her lap.

When Danny next woke up it was to a bleary bliss that he wasn’t quite too sure what to make of. “Mum?” He mumbled out as he blinked his glassy blue eyes up at her. Why was his head so fuzzy? It was like he was underwater... “You cryin’?” He asked softly before his eyes widened and he jolted. His core fluttering in his chest. Had something hurt her?

“It’s okay baby, I know you were so scared before but you don’t have to be any longer… I know… I know I’ve made some terrible mistakes against Phantom… against you… but I promise I’ll do what I can to make you feel safe here…” She sniffed and curled her form around his burying her face into his shoulder.

Danny’s muddied thoughts spun out to a halt as his memories caught up with him. That’s right! She knew! she knew! And apparently accepted him!

“Y-You have no idea how much that means to me…” He sniffed too, tucking his chin over her shoulder. And squeezing her tightly just as he had only an hour earlier as Phantom. “I love you so much…”

“I know hun… I love you too… and I promise I’ll make this up to you any way I can.” She responded in kind. Tomorrow she’ll look into the plants that can help to cure her son, but for right now? She would be content to offer the love and comfort they both so dearly craved.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Complete

Word count: 3281

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23457526

#fluff and humor #ghost plants #Danny messed up by plants #phic Phight #Phic Phight 2020 #Team ghost

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toxicsquad · 4 years

Text

There is no better way to get to know someone than through a good question tag. In this case we have decided to make an Indie game dev question tag with the responses of our four developers. We hope that it will reveal many unknowns, but if you are left with any questions, do not hesitate to use our ask.

What part of game development are you responsible for?

Athe: I write and write, I melt in my seat, I correct, I cry and then I program. It’s an endless cycle. Occasionally I laugh like crazy while I eat Pringles.

Sam: I draw and color without leaving the lines (almost always) the sprites, the illustrations and the ravings that usually occur to us past 3 in the morning.

Illy: English translations.

Sher: I draw BGs

What tools do you use (hardware / software)?

Athe: Recently my desktop PC has passed away, so I’ve had to rescue my old PC from the garage. I also have a laptop that saves my life more times than I would like to admit. As for the software, I need, above all, drive documents, video editing programs, image etc (I have an Adobe package) and of course Renpy and Atom.

Sam: My main friend and companion is my tablet, a wacom intuos S (pistachio color, so cute). As programs I mainly use the Paint Tool Sai, because there is nothing in this life like its stabilizer. And less frequently than I would like (for details, texture brushes, effects ...) I also use Clip Studio Paint, which I only know how to use at about 2% of its capacity ... If someday I have time I would love to stop and learn seriously what can be done with it.

Illy: During the school year I live in a residence, so I use an old laptop, and when I return home I use a desktop computer that never has memory space. I translate the chapters in the same Atom where the complete script is and I keep them in google drive files where I share them with our beta reader. I also use editing programs like photoshop when I have to translate comics or procreate for when my artistic skills are required.

Sher: ipad+procreate+some final tweak in photoshop, I don't need much more

What is your favorite part of the job?

Athe: Would it be wrong if I say that is when we released the episode? During the whole production time everything is very stressful, there are times when it’s really uphill, but when we release a new chapter it feels soooo good. It's like saying to yourself, yeah, dammit, I can do it. Look at everything you've climbed by yourself. You're doing it right.

Sam: In general, my favorite parts are when the first scenes start to be programmed, and I can see the sprites with the backgrounds, the texts, and how the illustrations look. Everything always looks so much better when viewed in-game… I also really like being able to check out the script as it is written. And from the artistic part that concerns me, when I see that my hands capture the idea that I had in my head ... Especially in character designs.

Illy: Having to find a way to translate very spanish expressions into English, research vocabulary that I have never had to use and commenting on some translations with our beta reader (which we adore) to make it understandable without losing the original meaning.

Sher: I like to do the lineart when the sketch is complete, if I no longer have to think about anything else and it's just going through it, I find it very fun and relaxing

What is the most difficult part for you?

Athe: Offf, yes, I admit it, sometimes writing is the WORST. Other times I love it, especially when I can expand on the descriptions or stop at a part that is intimate or that I find interesting (for example, Hasiel's conversation from 6.3, small spoiler: P). But, I HATE having to paste scenes, often the protagonist moves between scenes and you always have to add lines to those transitions that really do not interest anyone, but that otherwise the text would be confusing. Anyway... It is a very wide world, with a lot of history, I have to deal with what I need readers to know to understand the facts, although sometimes it gets a bit boring.

Sam: What part does not... Rather who e.e Zihel and Ariel are a thorn in my side. Especially Zihel. I know it has to do with the fact that it has never been my strength to draw boys, and much less if they are more masculine in appearance... That's why I also suffer a lot from drawing muscles. Another thing that brings me a headache is the perspective of the illustrations. Every time I try to get out of the typical shot or poses a little... It doesn't work out.

Illy: Doughy’s stuttering ¬.¬

Sher: chairs, sofas, tables... anything with four legs is my enemy

Anything to help or encourage you while you are working?

Athe: I need music, no, seriously, I NEED IT. I’m unable to focus without it. If, on top of that, I can get what I hear to act as a sounding board for what I write, the text is a thousand times better... But the muse is a pretty bad person.

Sam: Having a show/movie in the background that entertains me. The longer the better, so I don't have to stop to think what I want to put on next.

Illy: Eating sunflower seeds to trick my brain and not be tempted to do something else that distracts me.

Sher: I try to see other artists to motivate and inspire me before I start drawing, what I find most difficult is that initial push and that is where I need the motivation, then I usually have something in the background but it is not necessary

Something that’s a pet peeve or discouraging?

Athe: Some narrative climax moments. Generally, they are not important plot moments (that is almost entirely decided), they are often small decisions to go from scene A to scene B, but I can spend a LOT of time deciding which is the fastest and best way to tie those two ends. I'm the worst.

Sam: Many times when starting, I can't get the poses to fit the way I want, for example.

Illy: Finding many parts in a row that I find especially difficult to solve and that make me believe that I have forgotten how to English properly. And looking at how many lines I still have left.

Sher: When I don't know how to fill in some area, if I see something very empty but I don't know how to solve it, I can spend days looking at the screen without being able to advance, even if I have other areas that I could do in the meantime

What is required on your table or work surface?

Athe: Notebooks, sticky notes, pens… I’m a person who writes everything down, especially the tasks, but I also order the story by color schemes. The stack of sticky notes have 9 different colors, each one represents a character and I play a lot with them for a lot of nonsense. Besides, even though I have been writing on the computer for many more years than I wrote by hand, I still have a preference for the analogical.

Sam: Coffee, sweets, chocolate, cereals... And cats.

Illy: My phone, the sunflower seeds, a Capital America: Civil War 1L water cup, sticky notes that remind me of tasks.

Sher: I have nothing really lol all my things are for decoration

Your most productive hours?

Athe: Owl. Totally nocturnal. Although I have several crises a month to force myself to work at other times that always end... Wrong.

Sam: Also at night for the most part, although I can no longer stay awake as long as I endured before having a job (the good old days...) However, in the middle of the afternoon, when the zoo that I have at home is still taking a nap, I also manage to go a long way.

Illy: From when I finish eating until 7 or 8 in the afternoon, when I don't have to cook, clean, run errands...

Sher: I take over for Illy apparently, from 7 or 8 is when I start to get into the mood until bedtime

Do working hours make you forget to eat or make you eat twice as much?

Athe: It depends, in the past I ate a lot, now if I have stress I don't eat anything. If I'm in a normal productive phase and I'm not on my nerves, I'm probably eating by inertia.

Sam: They make me eat more, but especially junk food e.e And they make me forget healthy meals, especially dinner at night.

Illy: It depends on my mood, but I usually eat twice as much.

Sher: I'm generally a VERY distracted person so I don't usually get to focus on a task to get to either of those two modes but I guess when I am sooooooo much on the task, I forget. But that happens like a couple of times a year and "forgetting" is "I delay an hour."

What part of your set up would you improve / change (in aesthetics or functionality) if you had no money limit?

Athe: I'm trying to match some of my peripherals with the rest. They are all a damn different color, apparently I'm cursed... Now seriously, I wish I had a better graphic card that would allow me to make video captures, some speakers and a quality printer.

Sam: Actually, I don't think I need anything more complex than what I already have… But if I had to improve something, I'm curious about the most professional tablets, the big ones with the included screen and all that stuff.

Illy: A new laptop that lets me open 4 chrome tabs, Atom and photoshop at the same time without dying.

Sher: A pc screen that will not change the colors I use on the iPad would be nice, really

Which character are you most like? And why?

Athe: Phew I think the easy answer would be to say Akane ... But, Akane is a better person. : P

Sam: This is very difficult... They are all very different, but still I do not think I look much like any of them. If I have to say something, I could identify with Maske's tendency to avoid problems, and his more homey and calm side. And well… Since Akane has been an OC of mine for many years, surely I have something of her too.

Illy: I think I partly have Maske's instinct to stay out of trouble, and on the other hand Joe's shallowness, although tbh I wish I really did look like any of our awesome babies.

Sher: surprised because (unpopular opinion around here) is one of those who I "least care" about really but I would say that Pin because he is a little dumb, happy and probably has a Satanic room and proud of it

Favorite CG/art.

Athe: AT THE MOMENT. Maske chapter 1. It couldn't be more predictable. I know.

Sam: I quite agree with Maske in chapter 1. But I would also put Pin in chapter 5 and Akane in chapter 6.2 on the top.

Illy: Kyeran in Coco's tank ?? Is he even real? Being basic is my brand.

Sher: surprised again and disappointed but I would say that of angel Hasiel because I like pretty dresses, pretty hairs and pretty wings

Favorite BG/scene.

Athe: The Red Light District amazes me. I already liked the life of that place, its history, but the way of expressing it... Uggg Sher took it to another level. The dirt on the street, the night, the constricted buildings...

Sam: I think I’ll say Raziel’s square, I like it a lot from the first day.

Illy: I don't know if I can choose just one T__T but I would say that the Red Light District and Valefar's pub are at the top.

Sher: for not repeating the red light district that I also like very much, I really like the areas of Coco's laboratory, including the “main” area although the perspective is horrible and makes the characters look tiny, but I like how it looks :(

Your favorite chapter to date?

Athe: Ufff... The first and second one I assure you no, hahaha. I will say that the third one, but also for things that are not necessarily from the chapter, but of the production. It was a good moment. I felt that everything was flowing with ease. We all assumed a clear role, they were times that made us feel comfortable and capable of assuming what came next, I think it was a qualitative leap also, both in texts and in art.

Sam: Oh. Well let's see... Chapter 5 is amazing for me, for everything that happens but also because there are many personalized interactions and choices. I can't say I have a definitive favorite, but it could come close… Also from the last ones I really like the 6.2.

Illy: Chapter 5 has so many details, so many things happen, it's hard not to be my favorite. But the last ones with the specific routes are so great that if I stay with the 5 it’s with the pain of my heart to have to choose one.

Sher: I would say 5 also because in the end when a lot of things happen is when you remember the most

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No hay mejor forma de conocer a alguien que a través de un buen tag de preguntas. En este caso hemos decidido hacer un Indie game dev question tag con las respuestas de las cuatro desarrolladoras. Esperamos que os aclare muchas incógnitas, pero si os quedáis con alguna no dudéis en usar nuestro ask.

¿Qué parte del desarrollo del juego llevas a cabo?

Athe: Escribo, escribo, me derrito sobre mi asiento, corrijo, lloro y después programo. Es un ciclo sin fin. Ocasionalmente me río como una demente mientras como Pringles.

Sam: Dibujo y coloreo sin salirme de las líneas (casi siempre) los sprites, las ilustraciones y los desvaríos que suelen surgir a partir de las 3 de la mañana.

Illy: Las traducciones a inglés.

Sher: Hago fonditos

¿Qué herramientas utilizas (hardware/software)?

Athe: Recientemente mi PC de sobremesa ha fallecido, así que he tenido que rescatar mi viejo PC del trastero, también tengo un portatil que me salva la vida más veces de las que me gustaría admitir. En cuanto al software, necesito, sobre todo, documentos de drive, programas de edición de video, imagen etc (tengo un paquete de Adobe) y por supuesto Renpy y Atom.

Sam: Mi principal amiga y compañera es mi tableta, una wacom intuos S (color pistacho, muy cuqui.) Como programas uso sobretodo el Paint Tool Sai, porque no hay nada en esta vida como su estabilizador. Y con menos frecuencia de lo que querría (para detalles, pinceles de texturas, efectos…) también utilizo el Clip Studio Paint, el cual sólo se usar como a un 2% de su capacidad… Si algún día tengo tiempo me encantaría pararme a aprender seriamente todo lo que se puede hacer con él.

Illy: Durante el curso vivo en una residencia, así que uso un portatil del año que reinó carolo, y cuando vuelvo a mi casa un ordenador de sobremesa que nunca tiene espacio en la memoria. Los capítulos los traduzco en el mismo Atom en el que está el guión completo y los guardo en drive donde los comparto con nuestra beta reader. También uso programas de edición como photoshop cuando tengo que traducir viñetas o procreate para cuando mis habilidades artísticas son requeridas.

Sher: ipad+procreate+algún retoquito final en photoshop no necesito mucho más

¿Cuál es tu parte de favorita del trabajo?

Athe: ¿Estaría mal si digo que es cuando sacamos el episodio? Durante toda la producción todo es muy estresante, hay veces, que se hace realmente cuesta arriba, pero cuando liberamos un nuevo capítulo sienta taaaan bien. Es como decirte a ti misma, sí, joder, puedo hacerlo. Mira todo lo que has escalado tú solita. Lo estás haciendo bien.

Sam: En general, mis partes favoritas son cuando se empiezan a programar las primeras escenas, y puedo ver los sprites con los fondos, los textos, y cómo se ven las ilustraciones. Todo queda siempre mucho mejor cuando se ve dentro del juego… También me gusta mucho poder cotillear el guión conforme se va escribiendo. Y de la parte artística que me toca, cuando veo que mis manos plasman la idea que tenía en mi cabeza… Sobretodo en diseños de personajes.

Illy: Tener que buscar la forma de traducir a inglés expresiones muy nuestras, investigar vocabulario que no he tenido que usar jamás y comentar algunas traducciones con nuestra beta reader (a la que adoramos) para conseguir que se entienda sin perder el significado original.

Sher: me gusta hacer el lineart cuando el sketch está completo, si ya no tengo que pensar nada más y es solo ir repasando me parece muy divertido y relajante

¿Cuál es la parte que más te cuesta?

Athe: Ufff, sí, lo admito, escribir a veces es lo PEOR. Otras me encanta, sobre todo, cuando puedo explayarme con las descripciones o detenerme en una parte íntima o que a mí me parece interesante (por ejemplo, la conversación de Hasiel del 6.3, pequeño spoiler :P). Pero, ODIO tener que empastar escenas, a menudo el protagonista se mueve de escenarios y hay que agregar siempre líneas a esas transiciones que realmente no interesan a nadie, pero que de lo contrario el texto quedaría mal montado. En fin… Es un mundo muy amplio, con mucha historia, tengo que lidiar con lo que necesito que los lectores sepan para entender los hechos, aunque a veces se haga un pelín peñazo.

Sam: Qué parte no… Quiénes, más bien e.e Zihel y Ariel son mi espinita. Especialmente Zihel. Sé que tiene que ver con el hecho de que nunca ha sido mi punto fuerte dibujar chicos, y menos si son de aspecto más masculino… Por eso también sufro mucho dibujando músculos. Otra cosa que me trae de cabeza es la perspectiva de las ilustraciones. Cada vez que intento salirme un poco del típico plano o poses… No sale bien.

Illy: El tartamudeo de Doughy ¬.¬

Sher: sillas, sofás, mesas… cualquier cosa con cuatro patas son mis enemigos

¿Algo que te ayude o anime mientras estás trabajando?

Athe: Necesito música, no, en serio, LA NECESITO. Soy incapaz de concentrarme sin ella. Si ya consigo que lo que escucho haga de caja de resonancia de lo que escribo, el texto es mil veces mejor… Pero la musa es bastante mala gente.

Sam: Tener alguna serie/peli de fondo que me entretenga. Cuanto más larga mejor, así no me toca pararme a ver qué es lo que quiero poner después.

Illy: Comer pipas para engañar a mi cerebro y no tener la tentación de ponerme a hacer otra cosa que me distraiga.

Sher: intento ver otros artistas para motivarme e inspirarme antes de empezar a dibujar, lo que más me cuesta es ese empujón inicial y es donde necesito la motivación, luego ya suelo tener algo de fondo pero no es necesario

¿Algo que te corte el rollo o te desmotive?

Athe: Los nudos narrativos. Generalmente, no son nudos gordos de la trama (eso está decidido casi en su totalidad), a menudo son decisiones pequeñas para pasar de la escena A a la escena B, pero puedo tirarme MUCHO tiempo decidiendo cuál es la forma más rápida y mejor planteada para atar esos dos cabos. Soy lo peor.

Sam: Muchas veces a la hora de empezar, no conseguir encajar las poses como quiero, por ejemplo.

Illy: Encontrar muchas partes seguidas que me cueste especialmente resolver y que me hacen creer que no tengo ni idea de hablar inglés. Y mirar cuantas líneas me quedan todavía.

Sher: cuando no se como rellenar alguna zona, si veo algo muy vacío pero no se como solucionarlo puedo tirarme días mirando la pantalla sin ser capaz de avanzar, incluso aunque tenga otras zonas que pudiera ir haciendo mientras

¿Qué no puede faltar en tu mesa o superficie de trabajo?

Athe: Libretas, post-its, bolígrafos… Soy una persona que lo anota todo, sobre todo, las tareas, pero también ordeno la historia por esquemas de colores. La pila de post-its tienen 9 colores diferentes, cada uno representa un personaje y juego mucho con ellos para miles de idioteces. A parte, a pesar de que llevo muchos más años escribiendo a ordenador de los que escribí a mano, sigo teniendo querencia a lo físico.

Sam: Café, chucherías, chocolate, cereales… Y gatos.

Illy: El móvil, las pipas, un vaso de 1L de agua de Capital America: Civil War, post-its que me recuerdan las tareas.

Sher: no tengo nada realmente lol todas mis cosas son de adorno

¿Tus horas más productivas?

Athe: Búho. Nocturna totalmente. A pesar de que tengo varias crisis al mes para forzarme a trabajar a otras horas que acaban siempre… Mal.

Sam: También por la noche en su mayoría, aunque ya no aguanto trasnochando tanto como antes de trabajar (qué tiempos aquellos…) Aunque a media tarde cuando el zoo que tengo en casa aún está echando la siesta también consigo dar un buen empujón.

Illy: Desde que acabo de comer hasta las 7 o las 8 de la tarde, cuando no tengo que cocinar, limpiar, hacer recados...

Sher: le tomo el testigo a Illy aparentemente, a partir de las 7 u 8 es cuando empiezo a entrar en el mood hasta que llega la hora de dormir

¿Las horas de trabajo hacen que te olvides de comer o te hacen comer el doble?

Athe: Depende, antes comía mucho, ahora, si tengo estrés no como nada. Si me encuentro en un rango productivo normal y no estoy de los nervios, probablemente, esté comiendo por inercia.

Sam: Me hacen comer más, pero sobretodo porquerías e.e Y hacen que me olvide de las comidas sanas, sobretodo de cenar por la noche.

Illy: Depende de mi estado de ánimo, pero normalmente comer el doble.

Sher: en general soy una persona MUY distraída así que no suelo conseguir centrarme en una tarea para llegar a ninguno de esos dos modos pero supongo que cuando estoy muuuuuuy dentro de la tarea, me olvido. Pero eso pasa como un par de veces al año y “olvido” es “lo retraso una hora”.

¿Qué parte de tu set up mejorarías/cambiarías (en estética o funcionalidad) si no tuvieses límite de dinero?

Athe: Estoy tratando de que alguno de mis periféricos peguen con el resto. Todos son de un maldito color diferente, al parecer estoy maldita… Ahora en serio, desearía tener una mejor gráfica que me permitiese hacer videocapturas, unos altavoces y una impresora de calidad.

Sam: En realidad, no creo que necesitara nada más complejo de lo que ya tengo… Pero por mejorar, me llaman la atención las tabletas más profesionales, las grandes con la pantalla incluida y eso.

Illy: Un portátil nuevo que me deje abrir 4 pestañas de chrome, el Atom y photoshop al mismo tiempo sin quedarse tieso.

Sher: Una pantalla de pc que no me cambiara los colores que uso en el ipad seria bonito la verdad

¿A qué personaje te pareces más? ¿Y por qué?

Athe: Ufff Creo que la respuesta fácil sería decir Akane… Pero, Akane es mejor persona. :P

Sam: Esto es muy complicado… Son todos muy distintos, pero aún así no creo que me parezca mucho a ninguno. Por decir algo, me podría identificar con la tendencia a evitar problemas de Maske, y su lado más casero y tranquilo. Y bueno… Dado que Akane es OC mío de hace muchos años, seguramente tenga algo de ella también.

Illy: Creo que en parte tengo el instinto de alejarme de las movidas de Maske, y por otro la superficialidad de Joe, aunque tbh ojalá parecerme realmente a nuestros bebés geniales.

Sher: sorprendida porque (unpopular opinión por aquí) es de los que “menos me importan” realmente pero diría que Pin porque es tontito, feliz y probablemente tenga una habitación satánica y orgulloso de ello

Tu CG/arte favorito.

Athe: DE MOMENTO. Maske capítulo 1. No podría ser más predecible. Lo sé.

Sam: Coincido bastante en la de Maske del capítulo 1. Pero también metería en el top la de Pin del capítulo 5 y la de Akane del capítulo 6.2.

Illy: ¿¿Kyeran en el tanque de Coco?? ¿Es siquiera real? Ser básica es mi marca.

Sher: sorprendida de nuevo y decepcionada pero diría que la de Hasiel de ángel porque me gustan los vestidos bonitos, los pelos bonitos y las alas bonitas

Tu BG/escenario favorito.

Athe: Me flipa el Barrio Rojo. Me gusta la vida de ese sitio, su historia, pero la forma de plasmarlo… Uggg Sher lo llevó a otro nivel. La suciedad de la calle, la nocturnidad, los edificios constreñidos...

Sam: Creo que me quedo con el de la plaza de Raziel, me gusta mucho desde el primer día.

Illy: No sé si puedo elegir solo uno T__T pero diría que el Barrio Rojo y el bar de Valefar están en el top.

Sher: por no repetir el barrio rojo que también me gusta mucho, me gustan mucho las zonas del laboratorio de Coco, incluida la zona “principal” aunque la perspectiva sea horrible y haga a los pj parecer diminutos, pero me gusto como quedo :(

¿Tu capítulo favorito hasta las fecha?

Athe: Ufff… El uno y el dos os aseguro que no, jajaja. Diré que el tres, pero también por cosas que no son necesariamente del capítulo, sino de la producción. Fue un buen momento. Sentí que todo estaba fluyendo con facilidad. Todas asumimos un rol claro, unos tiempos que nos hacían sentir cómodas y capaces de asumir lo que venía después, creo que fue un salto cualitativo también, tanto en los textos, como en el arte.

Sam: Ay. Pues a ver… El capítulo 5 es una pasada para mi, por todo lo que pasa pero también porque hay muchas interacciones personalizadas y elecciones. No puedo decir que tenga un favorito definitivo, pero podría acercarse… También me gusta mucho de los últimos el 6.2.

Illy: El capítulo 5 tiene tantos detalles, pasan tantas cosas, que es difícil que no sea mi favorito, pero los ultimos de rutas específicas son tan geniales que si me quedo con el 5 es con un poco de dolor de tener que elegir uno.

Sher: Diría el 5 también porque al final cuando pasan muchas cosas es cuando mas se te queda grabado

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coolingdownanddrawing · 5 years

Photo

heres some idea’s for redesigns along with some bulletpoints on what I was thinking for story stuff involving remaking the series

Im having trouble reading off the screenshots so Im gonna write it out under the cut along with probably adding some ideas or expanding on the bullet lists (future me here: I wrote a Lot)

Sam Manson:

-Rich Activist, meaning she’s kinda blind to some troubles going on or doesnt full understand how others are doing financially, along with being raised in a house with people who arnt exactly empathetic and more focused on appearances then worker rights, sam can come off as shallow to others doing activist work.

it could be a really interesting character arc for her to realize some of the things going on outside of her school and plants that she can help with, along with dealing with that sense of helplessness she feels at being to normal to help anyone she expresses in the show.

-Goth, but cheery? One thing i noticed in the show is how overall cheerful sam can come off while toting goth ideal’s, which may be a part of why she isnt shown to have many goth friends with them seeing her more as a poser becouse their teenagers and teenager Be like that sometimes.

It’s not a problem in my book but it could be fun to see tucker or danny question it when in goth spaces and sam basically saying the truth that you dont have to be miserable to enjoy dark subject matter. maybe with tucker and danny getting a small interest in some of the “lesser” goth stuff sam introduces to them.

-fights everyone, becouse teenager with boundless energy and Ghosts attacking all the time. sam didnt fight much in the original series and thats a shame.

-facinated by ghost, becouse duh

-I was kinda thinking of her and tucker being introduced by them competing for class president, becouse that seem’s like a position both would be interested in and it be more interesting then having tucker face dash

Tucker Foley

-Likes to influence others is a general statment, but its true tucker likes to be involved in other peoples lives and generally have his oppinion affect people in possitive (or negative) ways. he likes seeing that his involvment matters and he suffers when people ignore him or take his oppinions for granted and id love to see stuff centered around this trait

-level 1 leader/planner, sorta connected to the influencing people thing I think tucker really would thrive in leadership roles that danny just isnt suited to handling, big mobs of people and sam on his side and he is a force to be recond with. Tucker thrives in getting big groups of people to side with him esspecially since technology profficientcy isnt a sign of weakness in this day and age.

plus him working on his public speaking lines up with his motivation of wanting to be attactive to ladies.

also Having him working on public speaking stuff and general people person scenario’s gives a lot of reason for the group to interact with the A listers in a less hostile scenario

-tech god I guess, becouse tucker foley

Dan Phantom

-Incarnation of discomfort being the unintentional (At least the first time) fusion of a stubborn 14 year old and his crazy 40 year old father figure with very different morals and oppinions makes existing very, very akward for dan, but great comedy fodder!

-dan is able to have legs or a ghostly tail whenever he pleases unlike vlad or danny, becouse I figured it be a good way to make fights more interesting and their fighting styles different becouse I want more vlad involvement and having them be extra different types of ghosts makes watching either of them fight much more interesting

-wishes to not exist, esspecially in the presense of either danny or vlads love interests becouse WOW thats akward

-WAAAAY more powerful then danny and vlad, partially becouse making dan a final everything is going to hell desperate final action for danny and vlad would make dan’s appearances more interesting but also becouse of difference’s about vlad plasmius and danny phantom I will talk about when I get to them.

Dan Discomfort Masters

-“Vlad’s nephew” becouse if you’re meeting this guy stuff has gone horrible wrong on the de-fusing front and he needs a reason to be in either fenton on masters house hold to get whatever he needs to fix the ghost catcher

- big ol liar pant’s, partially becouse danny and vlad are Huge Liars but also becouse of the whole, I need shit to stop existing

-Trying to keep it together becouse he’s probably made to interact with people vlad and danny have Opinions On and honestly he cant decide if he wants to viciously prank jack at every oppertunity or punch himself for thinking of being mean to jack, among other such mixed feelings.

Vlad Masters

-Certified genius due to a number of thing’s including his obession, and becouse being smarter then jack makes him happy and if jack ever expressed interest in a subject He Must Be Better, he might not be trying to kill jack becouse he doesnt want to deal with a ghost hunter ghost for who knows how long but he wont be lesser then jack in ANYTHING.

-fruitloop, still has some backwards logic and morals such as having valarie become a ghost hunter to offer a sparring buddy to danny and whats a better motive to shoot at someone then they ruined their life right but he’s generally such a over the top bird brain trying to show off to everyone that fruitloop is the only description he can be given.

-less evil is a Big Thing, he’s still objectively not a very good man but I want him and danny working together and sharing a roof on the weekends but that means not shooting first and asking questions later on site, so a less evil vlad is needed, plus it just generally makes there interactions more fun and less dangerous which is what im going for, since walker can take over a lot of vlads antagonist role in the story plus danny and vlad making agreements to get stuff out of eachother sounds like a hell of a lot of fun, i liked eye for and eye vlad sue me.

- as a side not I want vlad to be a lot less physically fit and practiced with doing things as a human, seeing him as a man who lords his power over others when he can he prefers relaxing and working as plasmius more then masters, which affects his health and serves a purpose in story for a lesson id like made after watching phantom planet last night

Vlad Plasmius

-loving guardian in that he really, really does want to be a good father and mentor figure to danny even if their relationship is rocky due to long standing lies he’s been feeding him and how tight a grip vlad has on his familys financial health. as well as the whole snatching partial costody as soon as costudy was called into question after dannys accident (Ill get to that) vlad’s babysat in the past for the fenton which is part of it, along with his desire to be better at jack in every aspect.

-great implorer, in which he likes to get minions when he can and usually only grumbles if his minions already have plans when he calls for them, pays great by ghost zone and human standards and usually offers a full health plan, though skulkers case that full health plans is for when he gets his head up his ass and thinks he can actually get either danny or vlads pelt, one of skulkers suits is on vlads lab wall with a nice hole where its face should be as a reminder to those who cross him.

-only legs, meaning he uses 100% more kicks and ground based attacks then danny and can kick below the bet where danny cant, this plus his fire core making him have to get creative lest he burn his surroundings to the ground has him fighting in a very different way to danny, along with his 20 years of experience. vlad tends to fight ghosts with less reason to leave the ghost zone, and invading lairs to get what he wants, leading to more serious encounters then what danny faces in the begining.

-loves dramatics, becouse vlad plasmius everybody he’s a cookyier villian here

-less evil and more ruthless and efficient to those who get in his way, that arnt who percieves as family

-Plasmius’s obsession is teaching people lessons, in all the good and horrible ways that can imply. halfa’s have more broad and less restrictive obsessions then other ghosts which makes them more dangerous and able to ammas power.

Danny Fenton

-Fenton works heir, which is played up a lot more in this with vlad backing his family and giving them chances to disgrace themselves on public telivision and get shamed out of wherever their currently living, leading them on a series of moves throughout dannys life before amity park show off their inventions to the world! Since Jazz aggressively refused the role it fell on danny and he actually takes it pretty seriously, believing as a little bab in ghosts and being convinced of their evil from a young age by his parents which you can only imagine does great things for him when he becomes a halfa and learns unkie vlad is one as well.

-has been haunted by the creepy ghost boy title his whole like due to his situation and the fact he is usually made to assist in showing off his parents weapons publicly as a apprentice ghost hunter, one such invention was the fenton portal that had a wire loose during the presentation, when he went in and put it back the doors automatically shut him in and jack and maddie didnt notice he was in there still until the screaming started, this led to some public outcry over weather jack and maddie are fit to raise kids and vlad swooping in for partial costudy of both fenton children “to ease the masses, and besides he’s basically helped raise them anyway whats garenteed weekends at one of vlads places going to do?” it was a sucky situation.

-bad reputation due to general protectiveness of his parents along with terrible social skills, along with his new trouble of hiding and controlling emerging ghost powers.He doesnt leave a initial good impression on sam and tucker when he first meets them as fenton, and people tend to avoid him to keep away from his parents wierdness anyhow.

-is less good in the traditional sense but wants to keep people safe and happy if he can help it, though its argueable if thats simply a manifestation of his obsession or if its just becouse he’s a sweet kid, once he gets it into his head that ghosts arnt always evil he tries really hard to be nice to ghost too and even tries to save them from his parents when he can. putting his neck out for them.

Danny Phantom

-just wants a lair is a shorthand for wanting to just experience regular ghost things when he’s going ghost, he’s less inclined to fight every ghost he see’s unless their actively hurting people and tries to talk them down, not wanting his afterlife filled with enemies when he officially keels over.

he has big dreams for a super cool lair of his own that are explored upon the one time he’s split apart by the ghost catcher, mostly becouse phantom rips the door to his room from its hinges and zooms into the ghost zone as soon as he’s out, found aimlessly wondering helplessly looking for the PERFECT location to start building. he tends to day dream about the lair of his dreams in class.

-no leg’s leading to more air combat and trying to immobalize people with his tail, usually fighting fairly though with his moments of cheap shots in partiicularly deadly battles,, he usually fights people like johnny 13 who mess with people then he does generally harmless ghosts like box ghost in the begining, plus with his in development abilities that include a versatile ice core his fights are more strategy then sheer beat down or creative weapon making (or heating whatever metal the ghost is wearing to the point of insanity)

Danny also has this little problem where he “died” in a anti ghost hazmat suit made of stuff to weaken and harm a ghost who comes in contact with jack and maddies little boy and it means its harder on him to access his powers, taking more energy to do things that most ghost would find easy like intangibilty and invisibility, which is a major problem for him esspecially at first, danny’s only made aware of this though vlads help and their working on a way to trick the hazmat suit into changing material with what danny was wearing under the suit, since its being difficult with changing on dannys command, he can put stuff over and under the suit but the suit itself is hard to make budge. the outfit shown above is after danny learns how to at least add stuff over it with vlads help.

dan does not have problem’s with the material of his costume making him have access to all dannys abilities easily, along with vlads experience and power and dannys creative thinking dan gets the nickname of the ultimate enemy with good reason

- Loves exploring, esspecially the ghost zone its so interesting and full of enteraining characters and the food is Amazing at least in ghost form and vlad’s show him some pretty incredible places in the zone when they agree to work together in the sense of vlad stealing madde and jacks thermoses at the end of fenton fights and danny helping him spelunk in the ghost zone, its a guilty pleasure to be able to show sam and tucker around when they become friends, natural portals are a tempation danny has a hard time ignoring when he see’s one, much to his loved ones annoyance. wolf is a terrible enablr of a friend.

- due to his obession with proving himself (its the wording i go with now i might change it to something like control or being loved) danny tends to want people to like him and seeing a opertunity to get them to like him sorta throws him off balance and out of fight mode, usually leading to him cuddling up to them, in phantom form dannys a great cuddler. take caution though he’s been known to trick enemys into thinking he’s gone out of fight mode and either shove them into the nearest portal/thurmos or later freezing them where they stand. dannys terrible with crowds, esspecially crowds of people who dont like him he freezeses up.

Danny to-tired-to-function (school and not working with parents danny)

-cant wait to to graduate, with no plans to go to college becouse he’s not paying for more hell

-is really in a bad place socially and mentally in the begining, but will become a lot happier once he befriends sam and tucker, though before that he tends to do some pretty desperate and embarrasing things to get attention and has a problem with letting people drag him into trouble on the promise of friendship.

Danny’s Chore’s list:

-deadly laundry with ectoplasm contaminated laundry machines to content with

-helping whoever wants to cook, cook, or being in charge of dinner most nights unless someone else wants to cook (breakfast is jazz’s job, maddie and jack are gently discouraged from cooking, jazz and danny usually or use to just grab take out for lunch if they had time)

-cleaning the lab

-dishes with ecto contaminated dishwasher are always a little dangerous damn appliances and their wills to reak havoc, jazz likes to help make sure it doesnt hurt anyone since its more dangerous then the laundry machines

-assembling weapons with parents for the vault, or incase of a huge ghost invasion so everyone has a chance at a weapon, danny usually just assembles the less dangerous stuff that doesnt require a lot of welding

-general house maintense, vacuuming and window cleaning while jazz mops and dusts

-jazz cleans the weapons vault after learning dannys secret becouse its a lot less dangerous for her then for him and hes infinitly grateful

AND DONE thats some of my thoughts on what could be done with a re design of the characters and story beats listed, im tired of writing now but enjoyed getting this out

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucket foley #dan phantom #vlad masters #vlad plasmius #lot more words then normal

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 5 years

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About poison and love. Noah the Gorgon and Harper Sayles (and Dean, Cas, Jack, Michael)

Jack, I’m already writing. Isn’t that crazy? I’m not crazy. But our love is so vivid. I can’t wait to find you. You are the first man to ever get me to leave McCook. Now I’m in the world. I’m sorry I have to kill you for what you did to Vance but then I can bring you back so that we can be together again. It’s gonna be perfect. See you soon. Love, Harper

I have already talked about how Harper Sayles is a dark mirror for Dean: he thinks his love for people has the same effect on the people he loves as Harper does. Dean believes that his attachment to people in harmful to them, that he “kills” the people he loves in the sense that he destroys their chance to be their own selves and pursue their own paths, and that there’s something toxic in the way he clings to people instead of letting them go (remember when Sam explicitly directed these accusations to Dean after the Gadreel incident? That was the textualization of a long-living fear of Dean’s, that he destroys people because he cannot bear to be without them).

And now we have a new mirror for Dean that presents interesting parallels to Harper. Noah the Gorgon and Harper Sayles both play a sort of game where they flirt with a man, or let him flirt with them, and then they get the men killed. There’s emphasis on the fact that they kill men: “she's lost people--not people, men” the waitress says, then echoed by other patrons who also say “men”. The conversation between the Gorgon and his latest victim also emphasizes how Noah’s most recent victims are all men - in fact “a pretty biased sample at this point, really”.

They both rely on a cute attractiveness (Harper’s charming attitude, Noah’s campy appearance) to appear harmless, although not everyone falls for it - several women and one guy affirm that Harper is “bad luck”, and apparently Noah has been having a hard time getting close to women because they wouldn’t trust a stranger. Basically, they both have a specific kind of victim: men who are looking for romantic or sexual connections.

Obviously, Harper is living a typical heterosexual romance, while Noah’s field is queer, and this brings us to the next point. We have been talking about how Harper basically lives her life like it were a story from a book, but the wrong genre: she mistakes horror for romance. I’d say that the main difference between Harper and Noah is that Noah appears to be more aware than Harper of the genre he lives in, although he does seem to be trying to live in a different genre. I’d say that, while Harper acts like she’s in a typical romance novel, Noah acts like he’s in a NBC Hannibal-esque show, which is a fascinating choice from Steve Yockey and Amyn Kaderali. The initial scene of the episode is obviously filmed to be reminiscent of Hannibal, with just that more Supernatural-like flavor in the aesthetic - not the high-end classy style of Hannibal Lecter, but something campier. There are similarities between Hannibal and Noah, including their unconventional (feminine-coded) styles in physical fighting (see also the connotations of poison as a weapon) and a tendency to get into your head with speeches about metaphors...

But now let’s get back to Harper and Noah. As I was saying, unlike Harper, Noah is aware that the genre he’s living in is not a romance; and maybe there’s something here about the fact that straight people will interpret anything where there’s a man and a woman as a romance (including violence and abuse), while queer people will always find themselves in tragic narratives... Maybe Harper and Noah do represent the stereotypical genres women and queer men are stuck into - romance and tragic narratives of isolation and death. Obviously, they both bring twists to those roles, because Harper is a necromancer that killed and turned her boyfriend into a zombie, and Noah a demigod that eats human flesh and will snack on your eyes. Stereotypes are too narrow, Supernatural says, as it gleefully gets its little horror hands on everything.

Anyway, Noah does seem to be more aware of the reality of his existence: when hunters come, unlike Harper who just substitutes Jack as the hero of her romance novel, Noah warns Dean to stay away from him. And here we get to a very interesting point: Noah also writes a letter to Dean, like Harper did to Jack.

Dean, I see you standing alone by the truck reading this note. I see you and the tall man and the red-headed witch chasing me. I will always see you. Stop, or I will make you stop. Regards, Noah.

Noah’s message to Dean is coded as a love letter of sorts, too. Dean himself points out - a little awkwardly, kind of like he also gets the vibe - that there’s something strangely intimate in how the letter places them in a first-name basis towards each other (Sam and Rowena, on the other hand, are not mentioned by name - which is bizarre since Noah knows Dean’s name, but is less bizarre if you consider the subtext). When Cas wonders why the letter doesn’t mention him (in an exchange where neither Jack, Sam or Rowena are mentioned), Dean suggests that’s because he’s not Noah’s type - implying that Dean is.

Noah is doing what he’d rather do as “a lover, not a fighter”: send Dean away from him, rather than fight him. Noah is aware of what he does to people, unlike Harper who consider her zombie-ification of her boyfriend as an act of love.

Honestly, it’s not like I enjoy eating people. It’s a lonely way to live, and there’s only so many ways you can cook human. But sometimes fate is cruel and boring.

In his own twisted, murderous human-eating demigod way, the Gorgon laments his condition. It’s a lonely way to live, being unable to connect with people because you’ll poison them and will eat them... which brings us to the initial point of this post.

Come on, man. Can’t you see? I’m... I’m poison, Sam. People get close to me, they get killed... or worse. You know, I tell myself that I... I help more people than I hurt. And I tell myself that I’m... I’m doing it all for the right reasons, and I... I believe that. But I can’t – I won’t... drag anybody through the muck with me. Not anymore.

Dean believes he’s poison to the people around him, and while he obviously isn’t in the same mindset he was in 9x10 when he said the above line, he has always carried this fear within himself, that he drags people down. And that counts especially with Castiel, a literal angel that literally fell because of Dean. While Cas considers getting close to humanity (insert double meaning here) an act of elevation for a non-human creature, Dean - while he has no delusions about how bad heaven and angels can be - sees Cas’ descent into the pain and suffering that comes from getting close to humanity (to him, really) in negative terms. Awful, Jack calls the experience of loving something that will die. Living, Cas calls it. Remember his words when they gave the demon cure to Dean: only humans can feel real joy, but also such profound pain... Now we can add, a non-human creature can feel real joy and profound pain by loving humans. And while avoiding that is “easier”, it is no real living.

Cas’ speech is the opposite of the speech Michael gave Jack in the hotel in Kansas City:

My uncle's in the cage. And you -- you’re not family. Well, not literally, no. Our connection, our relation is more a matter of scale... of power. Haven’t you learned yet? In this reality, monsters, humans, even angels -- they are insects, atoms compared to us. But you -- you’re just a child, a mere infant. For you, the past two years -- the entirety of your existence -- feel like eons. You don’t even know what time is. But you will. Real time, the time that makes mountains, that wipes out species. You’ll see it all... with me. No. Year by year, century by century, and as your power returns and grows, we’ll only become more alike. Oh, I know. Your loyalty to Castiel, the Winchesters, the rest of humanity? It will fade. And so will the minor differences -- angel armies versus monster armies, this Kansas City or that Kansas City, one world from another -- they'll fade, too.

And that’s the deeper meaning of Jack yelling to Michael, before killing him, that he’s not a child. He reiterates his loyalty to humanity and to the Winchesters.

Michael is a parallel to Noah too - makes sense, both dark mirrors for Dean (plus Jack, of course). He also basically lamented an existence without connections, too powerful, too alien from everything else to be able to connect to them. Michael probably never enjoyed his version of “eating people” - cleansing the worlds, destroying everything - either, but he felt like it was his nature to do so, because he saw no meaning in getting attached to something ephemeral and fleeting.

As Noah says, it’s a cruel fate one that forces you to live a lonely life with no connections. And Cas tells Jack that, no matter how much it hurts, it’ll always be better to have loved a human and lost them, than not having gotten close to them at all.

Now, I sincerely doubt that Cas’ story will develop the way he expects it to - no one’s really living in the exact genre they act like they were in, are they? - so we’ll see who’s really going to lose whom now... and which kind of ending this genre entails.

#my spn thoughts #spn meta #spn 14x14 #spn 14x06 #destiel #dean and love #cas and humanity #noah the gorgon #harper sayles #michael #cas and jack #spn spoilers #spn

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dreadnought-dear-captain · 5 years

Text

You Asked, I Told

Hello, everyone! I will have another 20k chapter of Baghdad Waltz posting tomorrow, but in the meantime, here are answers to some intriguing Asks you sent me.

CW for some discussion of sexual assault. Spoilers for BW through Chapter 34.

Oh, thank you so much! I love writing these and other secondary characters and giving them life and a backstory that will probably never, ever see the light of day. I have enough head canon to write whole side fics for both Winnie and Rikki. I love Winnie in particular, though I know she can be a divisive character. Winnie has not been a perfect mother, even though (like pretty much every mother) she has tried her best, which is one reason I really enjoy writing her. I usually see Winnie written in fic as either a straight saint or, less often, a villain, so I wanted to give her some more dimension. I will keep up with these characters as the fic continues!

A COUPLE OF SHARON QUESTIONS:

Wow, good catch! Yes, this was mentioned one time back in Chapter 17, when Sharon first disclosed to Steve that she was pregnant. As with many of the things like this that I throw in the fic, it serves multiple purposes.

First, I included this biographical information because of how common sexual violence is — at least 1 in 6 women will be victims of sexual violence in their lifetime. I wanted to also show that a) it can happen to “tough” women, which we would likely argue Sharon is/was, as an Army Reserve Officer attending the University of Virginia, and b) even though she still blames herself (at least to some degree) for “letting” it happen, she’s still an overall well adjusted person who can have healthy, intimate, functional relationships, a successful career, and good self-esteem. This hasn’t ruined her life, and I think that’s an important counter message to have in a fic that’s so laden with characters who suffer deeply and chronically with their trauma. Trauma doesn’t always end in PTSD - in fact, statistically, it usually doesn’t. This will likely come up again later in the fic in another context as well.

Thank you! I’m so glad you’re enjoying the read! As to whether Steve feels trapped by Sharon re: fatherhood, I imagine the details are a bit fuzzy to remember, because it’s been so long since that part of the fic, but I doubt he feels that way. He knows that Sharon has always been lukewarm about the family stuff while he has been dreaming about kids since he was, well, a kid. He knows that she didn’t intend to get pregnant and only got that way because her birth control failed due to an unintended interaction with St. John’s Wort (an herb with antidepressant properties she took to avoid going to behavioral health while he was deployed). As for deciding to keep the baby after becoming attached to it while she was pregnant, despite her previous lack of interest in being a mother, he likely wouldn’t have hard feelings against her for that.

If anything, I imagine Steve probably blames himself for having sex with her while he was home on leave, having just cheated on her with Bucky and not disclosing his cheating prior to having the sex that led to this kid in the first place. Had he told her as soon as he got home, she surely would have told him to go kick rocks, and there would be no Ethan. But he was scared and irresponsible and they were drunk... and now here they are.

And although Ethan certainly feels chaotic and stressful for him because kids can feel that way and because he gets overwhelmed easily, he’s wanted to be a father for so long that he likely sees Ethan as a strong motivator for him to recover from PTSD and the effects of TBI. Certainly a much stronger motivator than Bucky, because in his mind, Bucky can fuck off and cheat on him or abandon him a thousand times over, but Ethan will always be his son. And even though he struggles to be the kind of father that he wants to be, Ethan and fatherhood is at least something very tangible for him to work toward.

Great questions! Thank you!

Ah yes, it’s hard to tell what’s going on with their relationship now, because it’s Bucky, who is at times a horribly unreliable narrator. He’s got so much baggage around the Army and not being part of it anymore, and there’s this piece about Sam having the career he wishes he could still have, and Sam having the personal life he could have had with Natasha in some bizarre permutation of reality. And Sam has been deployed, so he’s probably not able to talk much, and Bucky has terrible attachment problems and interprets behavior… not always very realistically. So he might interpret Sam’s distance (logistical, because he’s busy, because they have less to talk about, because they are moving in different directions) as a sign that their friendship was “weird” or that Bucky is “gross” or whatever Bucky is assuming because he’s going through his own shit right now. In short, it’s very possible that Bucky is projecting a lot of his personal stuff onto Sam, like assuming that a pretty normal phase of life transition is actually a sign that he’s being rejected.

But there is a separate issue of Bucky’s friendships getting physical and having these blurred boundaries with friendships. There’s yet-undisclosed stuff in the past that he’s referring to, so unfortunately you can’t see that yet, but he’s drawing on that, and he’s looking at this cuddling behavior (the “snack cake” scene etc.), and I’ll go ahead and say it, since it may never make it into the narrative, but Bucky would definitely have fucked Sam, if he showed even the slightest genuine sexual interest. Bucky has a bad track record with making good friendships in general, and almost all of his close friendships end up getting sexual or para-sexual. Take Steve. They had a pretty intensely physical friendship that got para-sexual and then sexual, and, interestingly, the intimacy that they shared in their friendship also took a nosedive when they really got sexual, but that’s another matter entirely.

So to answer your question, Bucky and Sam didn’t do anything explicitly sexual, but I think Bucky knows he would have, and now that he’s learning about boundaries in DBT, he’s probably wondering about theirs, and he’s looking at these patterns in his life right now, and he’s also just scrambling to figure out why they’re not good friends anymore. I mean, he also really just misses him and the Army, and he’s mourning for both. He’s kind of flailing around here, and that could be another reason why this doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense. But you didn’t miss anything. He’s mostly wrapping himself around the axil over something that may or may not even be a thing. [sigh]

In other words, is Steve a Buckysexual, so to speak? I also am a bisexual person, and I take my bisexual characters pretty seriously (hoo boy). I can see why this might be a big question in people’s minds, because we haven’t seen a very broad swathe of Steve’s sexuality in this fic. He’s very much a monogamist who tends towards longer term relationships, if he can help it (not a guy who does casual fucks well, obvs). We started the fic proper while he was in a relationship with Sharon, then he went to Bucky, and then his sexuality went into hibernation, and now he’s climbing out of that, and we’ve had references to girlfriends in the past peppered along the way.

I’d classify Steve as a late-blooming bisexual. He graduated high school at 16, so he was really coming more fully into his sexuality after he left that environment, and that’s when his interest in Bucky started to fire up. Bucky was the first male he fixated on sexually, which parlayed into a sexual relationship for almost 2 years but then flamed out. Then Steve went into a long sexual hibernation after his mother died and he felt jilted by Bucky’s perceived abandonment, but then he was at the U.S. Military Academy, surrounded by hot young men at their peak fitness and— I will not say more specifically, because this is probably actually going to be addressed in the fic.

But let it suffice to say that Steve is not a Buckysexual. One could also look at the way he fantasized about Bucky in the coffee house to see some clues to his sexual interest in other men. He wasn’t just into Bucky - he was into all these other guys too, jerking off while watching, all the dicks on the wall.... you know. He has had more relationships with women, so behaviorally he would seem to lean more toward women, but I would not say that women are necessarily his default preference. If Bucky were not in his life and they split to opposite corners of the Earth, never to speak again, I think he would be pretty open about the gender of his parter. As long as they let him put their genitals in his mouth, he’d be a happy camper ;)

And FINALLY:

Ah yes, I believe you’re referring to the line “Bucky is still an alcoholic, ‘interpersonally unskilled,’ deeply imprinted from God knows what traumas, and really, who knows how willing to actually change, if change means being honest and shining light in the dark places he’s always kept Steve from, no matter how much he’s begged to see them.” Yes?

So, prior to them separating in 2002, I would say that Bucky and Steve’s dynamic probably went a lot like this:

Bucky was pretty contained on the outside most of the time, with periods where the he was a flaming dumpster fire just beneath the surface and brief episodes where he was dysregulated and really struggling obviously. The latter looked like, say, showing up drunk to Steve’s and saying cryptic things like “I’m disgusting” and sticking his hand up Steve’s shirt… or his post-Ground-Zero “fuck me/I’m totally fucking falling apart drunk” thing, etc. And Steve, after these episodes, was probably like, “You know you can talk to me, right? Please. I just want to help.” And Bucky most assuredly responded with something like, “I’m good thx.”

I think Steve probably suspected for years that Bucky has stuff from his childhood (he would be absolutely dense not to), but I want to say that he probably both wants to know it and is terrified to know it. So his “begging” probably looks like gently imploring in a not too insistent way whenever Bucky does one of these big meltdown-y things. And then when they argue, Steve probably whips out the old, “You keep everything from me! I don’t know who you are! I have to beg you to tell me anything!” because that’s how these things usually go down. And Bucky would never volunteer anything and most assuredly lies about many things overtly and lies by omission alllll the time. So yeah, I would say that this a not-so-reliable-narrator situation but with a strong flavor of truth behind it. If that makes any sense at all.

Thank you so much for the wonderful questions!! What a joy to receive them. More tomorrow.

#YOU ASKED I TOLD #asks #baghdad waltz

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norahastuff · 5 years

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Canonical destiel moments so far in season 14:

1. Dean and Cas are ‘’attached at the everything’’(dick, he meant dick Jan - he even gestured at Cas’ dick to emphasise that he meant dick.)

2. Bobby calling Mary ‘’sunshine’’ in the bunker’s kitchen in a direct parallel to that time Dean did exactly the same thing to Cas.

3. Jack putting forth the idea that they may have to kill Dean to defeat Michael, and Cas refusing to even entertain the possibility - in a direct parallel to how Dean reacted in a similar conversation with Sam when Cas was possessed by Lucifer (just couple things - refusing to sacrifice your loved one to an archangel they’ve said yes to, to save their family/the world, after suffering from intense feelings of low self worth).

4. The swell of music after Dean returned to the bunker sans Michael and Cas came into to greet him.

5. Whatever the fuck this was...eye fucking...eye love making..? Personally I think it's Dean trying to eye convey his internal monologue to Cas: I still have issues accepting my repressed bisexuality, need to work on my codependent relationship with my brother, not to mention my cripplingly low self worth that doesn't let me believe I deserve to be happy but I'm working on It, please don't give up on me remember that time I made you a mixtape

6. Dean, fresh from being free from Michael, completely trusting Cas to go into his head and Vulcan mind meld with him.

7. Dean listing Cas and Jack being gone as the first reason why he was holed up in his room in 14x03, avoiding the rest of the bunker.

8. Mary wearing a beige trench coat in the episode where she's exploring her feelings for Bobby but feels he won't reciprocate because he has walls up. After they talk honestly they get to leave and be happy together, which Dean encourages them to do. ( yes this parallel to destiel is mostly subtextual but fuck it, the show put Mary in a Cas coat and made mobby a knockoff Dean Cas story so I'm including it.)

This is all stuff from the first 5 episodes, two of which Cas wasn't even in. I understand there's negativity and people can feel down about the show killing off destiel etc, but clearly they're not doing that. These are all textual moments that occurred. I can't say what they're leading to, I'm not psychic and nobody has a direct line into Dabb or the network's heads. I don't know how explicit they will ever get with Destiel.

But the truth is, every season since season 10 has pushed the subtext further and further to the point where a lot of it has just been text. The Dabb ers is many things, but they are a lot less subtle with Destiel than the Carver era was. They haven't backed off of destiel and they certainly not shying away from exploring it in the show. Dean and cas exploring their feelings for each other is never going to be a long explicitly maintext plot point/story, that's just not the way the show has been handling it. Just because the focus is elsewhere at the moment, it doesn't mean it's a no homo or Dabb doesn't care anymore, it literally just means the focus is elsewhere.

I understand if people feel differently and I completely respect that, but for me personally, the show hasn't given me anything to worry about recently with how they're handling Dean and Cas' relationship, so I thought that I'd throw my unasked for opinion on it, out into the void.

#destiel #season 14 #positivity #canon destiel #andrew dabb adventures in trolling #may not be the spin off we want #but it's the one we deserve #my spn thoughts #that thing they do with the eyes

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anoldfashionedlife · 4 years

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COVID-19: Friday, March 20

Pro-WFH-Tip: Getting ready in the morning as though you’re going into the office is both highly effective and well-known. One step further, a spritz of cologne or perfume goes a long way in reminding yourself that you’re human.

I’m annoyed by Melissa Clark at the New York Times. She’s doing a series called “Cooking From Your Pantry”. The first recipe last week was for pumpkin quick bread using a can of pureed pumpkin she’d found from Thanksgiving last year. This morning it’s baked oats, which is a dumb recipe.

This food isn’t good, these recipes aren’t good. These recipes feed the flame of panic. Instead of the message being “Cook some great meals while you’re cooped up and home but can still go to the grocery store,” the message is “Cook these garbage meals while thinking about an apocalyptic world in which you have to survive with whatever you have laying around.” Perhaps I’m overthinking it, but I do believe that minor messaging in the aggregate can have a major impact. Ironically, it’s talk of “pantry cooking” that leads to shelves being emptied in the first place.

I begin to feel that this is all an overreaction, but I don’t know to what degree. I’m not invoking the “it’s just the flu” argument, but I do think that everybody just needs to calm down. Certainly there's a rational level of fear; beyond that it’s counterproductive and damaging. But it's “degree” that’s undefinable. How afraid should we be? Does it make sense for the elderly and immunocompromised people—maybe including smokers and the asthmatic—to self-isolate? Maybe young and healthy people should social distance but not extremely so. Maybe people who can work from home should work from home. Maybe people who can’t should stagger their commute. And maybe we should allow this thing to circulate through the population in a semi-controlled way.

Cuomo orders all New Yorkers to stay home beginning Sunday night. It isn’t shelter-in-place, he insists, because that’s a term used in active-shooter situations.

I begin to wonder about the longterm effects of anxiety, even post-traumatic stress disorder. We will be coping with coronavirus long after it’s inoculated.

From my desk I look out the window and watch an uptick in people going to the grocery store. Mayor Bill de Blasio says on the Brian Lehrer show that he’ll send the NYPD to grocery stores that aren’t enforcing rules on social distancing.

What I know is that the grocery store will be open on Monday morning, but it’s unclear whether liquor stores will be. Sam says they will because for a while tax on liquor sales will probably be the state’s main source of revenue—groceries are non-taxable items. He’s probably right, but I’m out of the rum I like, so I walk over to Best Buy Warehouse Wines & Liquor, a Puerto Rican-run liquor store that’s the only one in the neighborhood that sells Abuelo 12 year.

On the way I stop at Choice for a cappuccino. “To stay,” I say jokingly. “If only that were funny,” replies the barista. At least one thing hasn’t suffered in the pandemic: the quality of Choice’s coffee is still terrible.

At Best Buy I buy a bottle of rum and the tequila I like, and while I’m there a bottle of Basil Hayden. The floodgates have opened, and just in case, when I’m back home I place a delivery order from The Greene Grape for six bottles of wine and two bottles of Elijah Craig. I convince myself that I’m supporting the local economy, which I am.

I think about STDs. In a few weeks—or, more likely, a few months—when we get some kind of all-clear—or, more likely, a somewhat-clear—there’s going to be a spike in STDs as everybody’s pent-up sexual energy is released. I wonder if I can line up a few hookups for when that time comes. Am I actually trying to stockpile sex? That would be novel.

It’s 70º and sunny, so after work I go for a run. All of Brooklyn seems to be in the park. The weather forecast shows cold tomorrow, and with mandatory stay-at-home orders going into effect Sunday everybody is out getting their last gulp of fresh air. Thankfully, for the most part everybody seems to be in groups less than five and social distancing.

I think about the spread of infection. I’m no doctor, but I did pay attention in high school biology. I got a four on my AP biology exam—not high enough for college credit, but still. A lot of people think that COVID-19 is simply floating around and that breathing the air is risky behavior. They wear a face mask whenever they leave their apartment to mitigate this risk. Wearing a face mask is not only ineffective but takes a face mask away from a health professional. (Note: If you are already sick then wearing a face mask helps minimize spread.)

Even more people think that touching a surface with COVID-19 will get them sick, thinking that viruses can be absorbed through the skin. On the contrary: the skin is the body’s first and most effective line of defense against disease. For COVID-19 to get into the body, it would have to enter through a wound or through the eyes, ears, nose, or mouth. This is why it’s recommended to wash your hands often and avoid touching your face. Wearing gloves is a useful defense only if you have a cut on your hand or if it’s a helpful reminder not to touch your face.

The least understood line of defense is your body’s immune system, which I won’t pretend to know well. What I do know is that it’s highly effective, and although one should avoid people who are ill, it’s not automatic sickness if you do. Once the virus enters your body, your immune system kicks in and does everything it can do, come hell or high water, to get rid of it. Most of the time this happens and you aren’t aware of it. Only when the immune system is overwhelmed do you show symptoms.

I don't provide this amateur primer to minimize the risk of contracting the virus or the value in taking precautions to prevent spread—even in seemingly healthy people like myself—but it is important to understand the basics and to know that most of us have already come in contact with it—quite regularly, actually—and it has been processed by our bodies with no ill effect.

What I’m really trying to say is that fear will not keep me out of the grocery store, and I will continue to cook and eat very well.

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junker-town · 4 years

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The Eagles are a dysfunctional mess, on and off the field

Things haven’t gone well for Carson Wentz and the Eagles in 2019.

The Eagles’ problems are starting to pile up, Gardner Minshew suddenly looks like a rookie, and Sam Darnold’s body is rejecting itself.

In retrospect, the warning signs that not all was right in the Eagles’ locker room have been there since January.

A week after the Eagles’ playoff loss to the Saints, a PhillyVoice report was not flattering to quarterback Carson Wentz. In the article, which cited several anonymous sources, Wentz was described as “selfish.” That was in stark contrast to his backup, Super Bowl MVP Nick Foles, who was beloved in the locker room and on the field when he was running the offense.

Many teammates publicly jumped to Wentz’s defense and denied there was any truth to the report. The hullabaloo quickly died down. Foles moved on the Jacksonville, and Wentz got a hefty new contract. The Eagles entered the season as a potential Super Bowl contender, thanks to a stacked roster that included a healthy Wentz, stout offensive line, dominant pass rush, and a strong group of playmakers.

Then the season started and the Eagles haven’t looked anywhere close to elite. They’re now 3-4 and only three teams have turned the ball over more than them. The Week 4 win over the Packers seems more baffling by the day, especially in comparison to Philly’s recent woes: blowout losses to the Vikings and the Cowboys. Dallas ran roughshod over its rivals in JerryWorld, handing the Eagles a humiliating 37-10 defeat after head coach Doug Pederson had more or less promised his team would win. Instead, for the first time since Pederson took over, the Eagles have given up more than 30 points in back-to-back games.

The situation might be even messier behind the scenes. Unnamed players have ripped Wentz and the offense, and criticized general manager Howie Roseman for not trading for Jalen Ramsey. Veterans Malcolm Jenkins, Lane Johnson, and Brandon Graham can’t seem to agree on whether the team has accountability issues. The cracks are showing, threatening to collapse the Eagles’ season fast.

Panic index: Perhaps winning will cure all, but things might get worse before they get better. The Eagles face a tough upcoming slate against the Bills, Bears, Patriots, and Seahawks, before they get an early December reprieve (Dolphins, Giants, Washington).

If the season goes belly up, then changes will come in the offseason. And who knows. Maybe Foles can find his way back to Philadelphia again.

Gardner Minshew looks like a rookie all of a sudden

Minshew Mania was fun while it lasted, but the Jaguars’ rookie quarterback doesn’t look like a sensation anymore. After nine touchdowns and one interception in his first five games, Minshew has one touchdown and one interception in his last two. He completed less than half his passes in those underwhelming performances and was lucky to get through them with just one pick.

If Bengals cornerback B.W. Webb hadn’t been wearing a cast on his arm, he probably would’ve caught at least one of the two passes Minshew lobbed directly his way.

The problem for Minshew has been a complete breakdown of his pocket presence. The poise he showed earlier in the year has devolved into panic — even when there’s no pressure at all. One of those bouts of pocket anxiety cost the Jaguars a touchdown against the Bengals.

What. Is. He. Doing. Back. There????? Minshew get it together bro pic.twitter.com/jteejitHGY

— Laurie Fitzpatrick (@LaurieFitzptrck) October 20, 2019

Earlier in October, it looked like Nick Foles had no shot at reclaiming his spot as the starter in Jacksonville this season. But if Minshew can’t get his mojo back, the veteran may have to step in after all once he comes off injured reserve.

Panic index: Earning Rookie of the Week honors in four of the first five weeks made it easy to forget that Minshew was a sixth-round pick in April. Struggles were always to be expected. They’re only surprising now because Minshew managed to avoid them for a month.

It’s too early to say that a couple bad games mean we’ll never again see the version of Minshew who was tearing up the league earlier this fall.

Sam Darnold is literally falling apart, folks

And no, we’re not talking about the fact that he threw four interceptions against the Patriots on Monday night. Physically, Sam Darnold is falling apart.

Earlier in the season, Darnold missed three games after he contracted mononucleosis, which enlarged his spleen. During a press conference when he was talking about his recovery, he talked about actively not trying to die:

"I wanna make sure that I'm safe out there, and that I'm not gonna die" – Sam Darnold pic.twitter.com/w0J1MiZ2TL

— Jets Videos (@snyjets) October 3, 2019

When he was finally cleared to return against the Dallas Cowboys, he had to wear protective pads that provided extra cushion for his spleen:

Sam Darnold from the Jets will be wearing these protective shoulder pads pic.twitter.com/v1YCWujUhW

— ENRIQUE CABEZUELA (@Enrique66573043) October 13, 2019

Although Darnold’s outing against the Cowboys was impressive — he threw for 338 yards and two touchdowns — he came back to earth against the Pats, completing just 34 percent of his passes for 86 yards. Oh, and he’s seeing ghosts now? That’s what ESPN’s cameras caught him saying while he was mic’d up on-air:

Sam Darnold is mic’d up and he came to the sidelines and said, “I’m seeing ghosts.” (Via @ESPN) pic.twitter.com/9MoM6Rkmo5

— Dan Roche (@RochieWBZ) October 22, 2019

Unfortunately the jokes don’t exactly stop there, as Darnold is suffering another, um, very strange injury:

Sam Darnold had a toenail removed, per Gase. He'll be fine.

— Manish Mehta (@MMehtaNYDN) October 22, 2019

We’re not sure why Darnold’s body is basically rejecting his existence, but get well soon, Sam.

Panic index: Surely Darnold won’t add to his weird injury history this week, right?

Oh, the Jets are playing in Jacksonville. Then yeah, he’s definitely leaving there with a new disease.

Melvin Gordon’s contract year could not be going much worse

Gordon sat out the first four weeks of the 2019 NFL season while angling for either a trade or a contract extension that would pay him like a top-five running back. He got neither, and returned to the Chargers’ lineup in Week 5 in hopes of being the spark LA had been missing. A big performance wouldn’t just thrust the club back into the playoff race, but also boost the veteran tailback’s value as free agency looms in 2020.

Yet Gordon has only added to the Chargers’ misery. In three games — all losses — he’s run for a grand total of 81 yards, needing 36 carries to get there (a 2.3 YPC average). While he scored his first touchdown of the season on a Philip Rivers pass in Week 7, that’s not what he’ll be remembered for after an eventful Sunday in Nashville.

Instead, it will be the two stuffed runs at the goal line late in the fourth quarter of a 23-20 game — the latter of which resulted in a game-ending fumble that took away Los Angeles’ shot at kicking a game-tying field goal at the end of regulation.

"I don't want them to gain another yard... If they cross the line of scrimmage, I'm going to take every last one of you out. You make sure they remember the night they played the #Titans." pic.twitter.com/o4Pb5CBpAQ

— Tennessee Titans (@Titans) October 21, 2019

That was bad. And it’s so, so much worse when you consider what Austin Ekeler, the man who’d taken over RB1 duties in Gordon’s absence, did on the very same afternoon:

Melvin Gordon - 18 touches for 29 total yards, 1 TD, and 2 (really 3) fumbles. Austin Ekeler - 12 touches 125 total yards, a TD and 0 Fumbles.

— Bolts From The Blue (@BFTB_Chargers) October 20, 2019

Panic index: Gordon can still attribute some of these struggles to rust, but the fact he’s getting so badly outplayed by someone who’d been a situational back in 2018 is troubling. General managers won’t easily forget that when they’re sorting out their free agent budgets next spring — nor will they forget that, so far, 2018 has been the only season Gordon’s averaged more than four yards per carry.

It’s only going to get tougher for the Bears

The Bears are off to a rocky start, with a 3-3 record after a 12-4 season a year ago. They have an incredible defense, but an offense that has been stagnant under the watch of third-year quarterback Mitchell Trubisky. They still have plenty of time to turn things around, but unfortunately for them, their schedule doesn’t get any easier.

While they will be favored against teams like the Chargers and Lions, both teams are capable of putting up numbers that Trubisky can’t touch. They have the Rams in mid-November, as well as an upcoming game against the Eagles.

December is where it gets really tricky, though. They have a four-game stretch against the Cowboys, Packers, Chiefs, and Vikings. They have already lost to the Packers once while beating the Vikings, but Minnesota looks a lot better now than they did a couple weeks ago.

Unless they make a trade, this is Trubisky’s show going forward and that, so far, hasn’t been working.

Panic index: The Bears can’t afford to drop any “winnable” games with their December stretch. If they’re on the outside looking in on the playoffs by the time those games roll around, they may be in trouble. It all starts with beating the Chargers next, and potentially sweeping the Lions.

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