#jet black

[0bscvr1ty]

Jet has beautiful eyes.

[immortalmuses]

@driftvoid got my brain all ruminating on the many headcanons I've developed for Jet Black over the years (but never written down, shocking news!) So let's talk about Prosthetics & Chronic Pain (like I often do for my muses)

The Black Dog's Mechanical Arm

ㅤㅤㅤIn Canon, Jet loses his arm after it's blown off during an investigation-turned-ambush, the result of a Syndicate trap and his former ISSP partner's betrayal. The wound should have killed Jet, but the Black Dog is a stubborn sonuvabitch (as we know). He survives and ends up having the arm replaced with a mechanical prosthesis.

ㅤㅤㅤBut here's the thing. The show tells us that Jet had options for cell regeneration, that the technology of the time could have restored his arm with organic flesh-and-bone, at a relatively reasonable cost. He could have had it fixed, and it would have been like the whole thing never happened...

ㅤㅤㅤWhich is exactly why Jet didn't want the limb replacement. For good or ill, his mechanical arm serves as a very physical, very constant reminder of his past mistakes, and his inability to halt the corrupting influence of the European Syndicate.

ㅤㅤㅤThe arm is also penance, in and of itself. Because no inorganic prosthesis comes without some kind of chronic pain, whether it's because of the fluctuating fit of the limb to its stump or from phantom sensations in nerve endings long severed. Jet is in some kind of pain, almost every single day.

ㅤㅤㅤAnd that's how he wants it, even if he doesn't admit it himself. Jet Black is a man who prefers to be reminded of his failings and blindspots, so that he's never at risk of repeating the same mistake twice. He welcomes the ache in his shoulder as necessary, accepts the teeth-gritting disconnect sometimes felt between his body and the prosthesis as a price to be paid.

ㅤㅤㅤDon't misunderstand, he's not a martyr, Jet. He just believes that karma requires balance, and the cosmos will always demand its pound of flesh. At least this way, he knows which pound it has taken...

[altamontpt]

Peste & Sida levou amigos novos e antigos aos Jardins do Marquês e os Unsafe Space Garden dramatizaram a humanidade.  Os The Stranglers, esses, continuam a ser extraterrestres. 

The Stranglers || Festival Jardins do Marquês: afinal, ainda há heróis e dão pelo nome de The Stranglers!

[immanuelcouldnt]

Thank you for your patronage

[insiderzx]

Faye & Jet Black

[aldreantreuperi]

Can't remember if it's too late for @bebopcrew birthday week (probably but whatever time is irrelevant) so this is for @jetspikepub and whoever else enjoys shipping Spike and Jet 😘

***

"I can do this myself." Jet grumbled.

Spike glanced up from wrapping the bandage, eyes half lidded and something softer than a smirk teasing at his lips. "Oh I am well aware."

"Then why are you--" Jet's attempt at continuing the argument cut off abruptly as Spike, lightning fast, pressed a soft kiss on the bandage just above where the wound was.

"Can you just let me do something for you for once?" He asked then, taking advantage of Jet's silent - surprise? shock? embarrassment? - to tie off the cloth bandage before moving onto the next injury with smooth, competent movements.

Jet was almost always the one doctoring him up, but Spike knew a thing or two about medical care and, despite the nervous excitement dancing along his very veins, he could keep his hands steady as they worked.

His partner was so effusive with his affection, although not in any way others might notice. Mending Spike's clothes, repairing Spike's ship, cooking Spike's food. It was a quiet and reliable love that had filtered into Spike's life gradually until those subtle signs were all he could see when he looked around.

Oh, they fought sometimes - arguments over bounties (the ones to go after, the ones to avoid, the method of capture, on and on and on) and battles over who earned first shower (and therefore all the hot water) and while Spike knew they'd continue to butt heads over work on occasion...

He did have a thought about water conservation.

But first, he had to deal with this grumpy patient and somehow convince the stubborn man to take it easy for a bit. Well, it served him right for how many times he'd put Jet in this very position while he himself rebelled against doing what was right.

Jet was staring down at him, mouth slightly agape, and a blush on his cheeks.

Spike finished bandaging the next wound and, keeping eye contact with his partner, pressed another gentle kiss upon it.

He watched Jet lick his lips, sharp blue eyes cutting down to Spike's lips before snapping back up to meet his gaze again.

"Ah ah ah... Time enough for... Well, all things really, once you're feeling better." Spike admonished playfully.

"I... You..." Jet stammered, blush deepening.

"You and I, yes please." Spike replied with a wink.

[aldreantreuperi]

"Hey little bunny boy! I thought you wanted to hop, hop, hop after this?" Spike tossed a piece of broccoli in his mouth before standing from his seat, crouching low, and then leaping high into the air as Lupin clapped and laughed. "Well, okay little bun-bun... You gotta eat your veggies to get height like me!"

Lupin glanced over at Jet. "Bunny jump too?"

Jet chuckled. "I haven't finished my own salad yet. Ask me later."

Spike sat back down and tried to bring a forkful of greens to Lupin's mouth but he shrieked in rebellion and twisted in his booster seat to escape.

"Aren't you a hungry little bunny? I know this rabbit is starved!" Spike gestured back at himself and tried to sneak a carrot off Lupin's plate but the toddler caught the attempt and shrieked again.

"Dada, no! That's my carrot! But I'm not a bunny anymore... I'm a hedgehog now!"

"Ohhh," Spike drawled out in an exaggerated fashion as he rolled his eyes at Jet. "Well, my mistake... Dig in, little hedgehog!" And he smiled as the kid finally began to eat with both hands and no attempt at utensils. Jet had observed mealtimes enough to know you couldn't win all the battles at this age. While Spike blissfully watched his son devour the meal, Jet looked around the restaurant they had picked at random for lunch.

Plenty of other families were scattered nearby and most were looking at them with disdain or varying degrees of judgement. It made his skin prickle. Why couldn't others just mind their own business? And what did it matter if Spike let his son pretend to be a critter if it meant the kid ate?

The stares irritated him although Spike appeared unaware. No doubt the other man had clocked the negative attention and simply did not care. Lupin was, of course, too young to feel the pressure of all those critical eyes and down turned mouths.

Spike picked at the bits of produce that had launched from Lupin's plate onto the table and ate some while occasionally feeding others back to the kid which garnered more looks of disgust. Eventually, when Lupin began to just stir the remains of the dressing around his plate with his fingers, Spike declared their intention of getting cleaned up a tad and hauled the toddler up into his arms. Lupin gleefully dug his filthy little fingers into Spike's hair and then clutched his father's shoulders, leaving salad dressing handprints all over. Spike merely roughed up Lupin's hair with one hand while jostling him jokingly with the other arm that held the kid close to his chest.

"Giddyup, dada! You're my pony now! We gotta find the magic fountain and wash away the curse!" The toddler then waggled his own hands to indicate the cursed portions of his body.

As his partner and Lupin disappeared into the bathroom, Jet straightened in his seat to glare forcefully all around. He spared none of the curious and disproving parents.

"What's the matter with all of you? Too proud to play pretend? Well, ours just cleaned his plate! Yours won't even finish their tendies!" He gestured at the kids at each table, most of whom were being stubborn or throwing tantrums or hesitantly picking at their meals as if afraid of the consequence of not doing as told. "Let your kids be kids! Meet them on their level, don't make them act like the fuddy-duddy folks you all turned out to be!" He threw his napkin down on the table and stormed towards the exit.

Spike and Lupin caught up to him moments later, both fairly drenched from their excursion to the restroom.

"Fuddy-duddy eh?" Spike murmured with a grin.

"I was trying to be respectful of little ears." Jet muttered in response. "Anyway let's go. Maybe there's an ice cream stand nearby. We can let him paint our faces for all I care." He took a deep breath and let it out slow and then reached over to chuck Lupin's chin. "After all, he's only young once."

[mx-sinisters]

@bebopcrew birthday celebration 2026

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