#BUT some people will really put their entire ass out there and claim it's actually free will to die from cancer

[beardysuits]

Piece of Jake

Logan has hated his body his entire life. Obese, gay, and a shut in have been a terrible combination for him. He decides becoming his sexy roommate Jake may be just what he needs to build up his confidence.

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I’ve had a crush on Jake for… well forever I guess. I guess that’s one of the perks of being a part of the same class every year since kindergarten; you get to see the cute boys become cute men. Then there was the downside of that, that anybody who bullied you from kindergarten will decide to do it until you graduate. They’ll do it for anything too; being gay, being fat, your race, your wealth. I was lucky enough to get 3 out of the 4 for about 12 years now. However, I’m ready for that to change.

See I was blessed with a fantastic combination of having a slow metabolism, and an anxiety which I decided to soothe with eating. The result has left me to be a 19 year old with a BMI of 42. And yeah, BMI is bullshit if you’re stacked with muscle, but I had the rolls and pudge to prove there was some truth to it. Combine this with the fact that I was more queer than a midnight premier of Rocky Horror, and I came out to be not the most popular guy in school. I thought that would all change once I went to college, but freshman year was hell. I essentially spent the entire time in my dorm room, locked up in the dark and playing video games. But, I guess it wasn’t all that bad.

See, back to Jake. Jake kept his status quo of being one of the top dogs from the ages of 5 to 18. Baseball star, debate captain, and voted “most likely to succeed” by our peers. Top all of that off that he was on of the few people who actually wasn’t a total ass to me, and you can see why I was head over heels for him. He was straight of course, and even if there was a touch of bisexuality in him, he would never be interested in me. Now color me surprised when I found out that not only were we going to the same college, but we got randomly assigned to be roommates in the dorms! I was astounded, it was like there really was an astral force looking out for me. 

So for almost the entirety of our freshman year, we chit chatted here and there, but Jake was almost never home. Instead, he was working to get himself into one of the fraternities and move into the house. While I was sad to not have as much time to admire Jake as I would like, that did give me the opportunity to go through his stuff. Mostly his closet. Jake wore the usual clothes you’d expect, hoodies, jerseys, wrangler jeans and the like. However, being that he was on the baseball team at the college, I found his stash of jockstraps he wore for practice. And good god, thank goodness laundry day was only once a week. The other 6 days I had a full time supply of used jocks to sniff and fantasize with. 

I even tried to put one of them on in a hormone-fueled rage, but my thighs were probably the same mass as his entire body, and I couldn’t get the damn thing on. The longer I admired Jake and saw him for who he was, the more my love for him grew. With that, so did my jealousy. Jake was everything I wanted. He was fit, cool, and could get any guy he wanted if he even batted an eye at them. My time alone did prove to give me an opportunity to do some research however. 

See, I’ve tried for a long, long, long time to get fit on my own. Watching my diet, exercise, starving myself. But, nothing would work. That’s when I started to look for more, creative solutions. I came across a blog hidden deep on the web which talked about taking another person’s form. Most of these seemed bogus, but I had to try. I found one eventually from a user, “Magic_Mann_720” who shared a potion, once which he claimed could turn anybody into a bodysuit. I was about to just toss it aside, but after looking at my desk and seeing the empty bag of McDonald’s staring back at me, I said fuck it. 

In all honesty, brewing a magic potion was easier than I assumed it would be, and after just a few short weeks of waiting for unusual supplies to arrive in the mail, I had a vial of the stuff at my whim. Now, who could I possibly give this to? No, not Jake. But also, maybe? Would that make me the worst person imaginable if I slipped this to him? He was one of the few good people I had come across, I couldn’t betray him like that. However, I saw one glimpse of his jock hanging from his hamper, and doubts crossed my mind. It was staring back at me, taunting me with how tight it fucking was. I had to wear it, and I only knew of one body it would perfectly fit. 

He was like clockwork, especially early in the morning when he made his preworkout and went off to the gym at 6 in the morning. I set my alarm for 5:50, just early enough to slip the potion into his drink before he woke up and set off. It was of course impossible to wake up so early in the morning, but somehow I managed to silence my alarm without waking Jake. 

I fumbled around in the dark and found his shake he made the night before. I had slept with the vial under my pillow, though I could barely sleep from the anticipation of my task today. Being careful to not wake him, I unscrewed the lid, dumped the contents of the vial into the jar, and shook it up. I had just laid back in my bed when his alarm woke him up. I kept my eyes closed, hoping to trick him into thinking I was asleep. I heard him stumble around the room, getting his bearings, getting dressed. I couldn’t resist popping one eye open to see his lithe frame as he found a tank and basketball shorts. 

He was already wearing boxers, but if my plan went accordingly, he never would wear such loose fitting underwear again. I heard him grab his shake, and my heart began to race. The pop of the lid went off, and I strained my ears to listen to him drain the contents quickly and quietly. The lid closed and just as I heard the doorknob turn, there was the sound of heavy stomps. I opened my eyes a bit wider to see Jake stumbling around, trying to get his bearings. 

“Hey… Logan?” Jake said weakly. I pretended to wake up and rose from bed, seeing him lean against his desk. 

“Jake? You okay?” I asked him. He turned his head to me, panting. 

“I d-don’t feel good man,” he said between breaths. “Get.. get help. Help.. me..” He slumped to the ground, and while I anticipated a loud thud as his jock body slammed to the ground, it was a soft thump, like that of clothes tossed to the ground. For a moment, I hesitated to creep any closer, afraid of what I would find. I mustered up the courage to turn on the bedside lamp and found a near horrifying site by the door. 

There on the ground was Jake, but he was flat as a pancake. He arms and legs stretched out, head deflated, and the clothes he was wearing were atop of him in a pile. I tiptoed to the body, already feeling regret in what I had done. Fuck why did I do this to him? Was I really so driven by my own lust I essentially just killed a good guy? 

My own footsteps were much heavier than Jakes, making the floorboards creek. I kicked at the body, the skin feeling as alive as ever, but made no movement of its own. I got on my knees, and with the tips of my fingers, grabbed Jake’s hair and pulled his head up. I was met with Jake’s face, his eyes now hollow sockets and mouth agape. I dropped the skin and scuttled back in fear. Fuck fuck fuck, it’s so god damn creepy! I took a few deep breaths and crawled on my hands and knees to the body once more. 

I tried to be more confident this time, grabbing him by his shoulders, and pulling him up as I struggled to stand. Jake was of similar height to me, so once I was fulling standing, I leaned the face to my mine, the tips of his toes still slumped on the floor. You know, it’s less creepy now. Jake was always a cutie, and even as a husk of himself he was irresistible. It was too late now, and while I felt bad about what I had done, I did it with a purpose. The issue now was, how the hell did I fit inside? Speaking of, would I fit at all?

I pulled at his cheek and found it to be rather elastic. My curiosity piqued, and I pulled at the corners of his mouth, which stretched at least a foot wide when I put some effort in. That gave me an idea. I quickly took off my shirt and briefs, catching my reflection in the standing mirror as I did so. God damn it, I was so fucking fat. My stomach hung out in front of me, almost covering my pathetic cock. Ass was as wide as trailer, neck rolls which made it seem like my head sat straight on my shoulders. Tits bigger than most girls I went to school with. This was my last chance to do something about it. 

I sat on my bed, laying Jake down in front of me like a pair of pants. Stepping one foot into Jake’s mouth, I stretched it further and further until my thick calves were encompassed by his lips. Grabbing at his chest, I pulled him further up my leg, already running out of breath as I did so. This was a workout on its own. I remember watching videos of guys slipping into wetsuits when I was a teenager, it was a slight fetish of mine. I loved seeing the neoprene cling to their slim figures. Those guys would go inch by inch yanking the suit further up them, so I went ahead and mirrored the practice. 

I found doing so actually made the process easier. Soon enough, my foot aligned with Jake’s. I shimmied his calves to match mine, but it was so incredibly tight. It was like my leg was vacuum sealed inside of him, crushing the fat around my leg down to match his. I began to pant, scared I was cutting off all circulation. I was so scared to look down and see something horrific, but shot a glance and was amazed by what I saw. There, my right leg was pristine. It was a mirror image of Jake’s which I had stared at so often when he wore shorts. I wiggled my toes, and Jake’s did the same motion. 

Kicking my leg around, the pain began to subside, and I could see up to my knee, it was like I had worked out my entire life. I could feel the beaming smile creep across my face as I stretched Jake’s mouth open wide again to shove my other foot inside. Now that I had some practice, my left leg was far easier to work with and soon enough, I had two sets of legs which were built from years of baseball practices and running. My thighs proved to be another issue entirely, practically twice the twice of my calves. 

I stood up from the bed, almost falling over from my balance being so off. Grabbing at Jake’s stomach, I jumped up and down a few times, his skin stretching and sliding over me with his lurch. My I stuck my hand down the inside of Jake’s mouth, the feeling of my now erect cock sliding against the inside of Jake. Although I wasn’t generously endowed, it still hurt to have it crushed inside of him. I found Jake’s cock, and while deflated, certainly overshadowed mine in length and girth. With one hand on the outside, and the other inside, I guided mine into his like a sheath. 

It was the most orgasmic feeling I had ever experienced. Jake’s cock went from looking like a flattened worm, to coming to full erection. He was at least seven inches long, and despite mine being half the size, somehow felt like it was filled entirely. It was beet red from anticipation, and while I wanted to cum right here and now, I had to finish what I started. I turned to the mirror once more, and was shocked by what I saw. From the waist up, I was still fat fuck Logan, but from the lower half, I was built like a god damn star. My new cock swung side to side, stiff as a board, and my ass, while squeezed in like a sausage, now was as perky as if I squatted 300 lbs. I turned and slapped Jake’s ass, watching as the taut skin slapped me back. All hints of cellulite gone. 

Finally was the part I was most afraid of, my stomach. It hung over the edge of Jake’s body, the flap of my stomach going over Jake’s lips. I sucked it in, which did practically nothing. Taking one of my arms, I pushed it as far in as I could, and used my other hand to pull the lips of Jake’s mouth up. I groaned in pain, feeling like a rubber band was squishing me in and threatening to cut me in half. Somehow though, his head moved up and moved. It was by inches and incredibly painful. Once I reached my belly button, I found a system to make it easier. Moving him up further and further, I finally reached my chest before I had to fall onto the bed. 

I was breathing heavier than ever, and drenched in sweat from what was left of my original body. I felt Jake’s, and he was as dry as ever, as he would never be worn out from such a task. I counted down from ten and hoisted myself up, catching my sight in the mirror. My moobs hung over Jake’s torso, but it was like I was wearing a skin corset. I rubbed my had over my new stomach, feeling how flat it was. In fact, I would even see the beginnings of a six pack bulging out. It was surreal, I don’t think I’ve been this thing since… ever. I took a deep breath and worked to shove each of my tits down Jake’s mouth. 

Each of them was a chore on their own, but eventually, all that was left were my arms and head. I don’t know how that would work, but if I made it this far, it was certainly possible. It would be tough as I would lose an arm at a time trying to slide them in. Taking my right one first, I wriggled my fingers inside, pushing them down Jake’s like a skin tight glove. With each inch my fingers slid in, it was easier and easier as I gained Jake’s strength. Eventually, the fingers found their way into his. I pulled at his bicep, as stretchy as the rest of him, and snapped it into place, enclosing my arm. 

I rushed to do the same with my left and with my newfound strength, found this section to be the easiest. I was almost done. Jake’s lips were around my neck, and I had to use his fingers to make sure he didn’t choke me. I glanced at the mirror, and found Jake with my head. I turned my body around, admiring his form. I had taken several sneaky glances at him as he changed, but to have full autonomy, to see his tattoo on his thigh, the way his veins popped in his hands, the curvature of his muscles, it was like I was being treated to a feast. 

“Goodbye Logan,” I told myself. I don’t know if I would come back from this. Or, if I would even want to. I took a deep breath and shimmied his head up my own. The same tight sensation took over my entire headspace and it was like a migraine hit me. Using my hands, I smushed my face around, placing my nose into his, eyes, lips. I fluttered my eyelids and had to refocus my vision. Going to the mirror was a picture perfect reflection of Jake. 

“Holy shit,” I said. Oh fuck, that was still my voice. I guess that wouldn’t have changed. I don’t know how I could pull off Jake’s voice, but I would have to practice it. I looked at the corner of my mouth, seeing my original lips peak through Jake’s. I took a finger, stretching and pulling it into place.

There, I was Jake. Fuck I was Jake! I laughed and rubbed my arms across my body, watching as Jake did it in the mirror. 

I spent a good ten minutes trying different poses and watching as Jake bent to my will. Sniffing his pits, making funny faces, bending over and showing off my new hole to myself. That last one sent me over the edge and I knew I had to blow off the steam which had built up. I sat on the bed and hoisted my legs up, cradling the back of my knees in my hands. I could never have even thought about attempting that in my old body, but as Jake, I felt so lithe. My smile was beaming in between my legs as I puckered my hole. I had to see what this looked like. I wanted to see Jake be pathetic now. I twisted my face to match that of so many porn actors I had watched alone in this room. 

“Ohhhh… oh fuck me daddy,” I said, begging, watching Jake’s eyes as they wished desperately for a fat cock to fill him up. I split into my hand and began to pump my new cock, already slick and slimy from precum. I stuck a finger in my mouth and wet it before sliding it over my hole and slicking it up. I had plenty of experience playing with my old hole, but I always struggled to get my arm in a position to really get deep in. Jake didn’t have that problem though. I started to finger fuck myself, watching as Jake became his own bitch. 

“Oh fuck daddy, fuck me. Fuck me!” I yelled, the point of climax racing through my cock before I could even react. Laces of cum shot out and started to drench my body, reaching even to my face and getting into my hair. I pulled my finger out of my hole, let go of my cock, and felt it rest against my thigh. There in the reflection was Jake, covered in his own cum and looking like a bitch. 

I giggled, knowing I should feel far more guilty about what I had done, but too high on my own bliss to care. After bathing in my glory, I decided to clean Jake up and explore his body some more. I grabbed one of his towels and left the room, still naked. Walking down the dorm hall to the bathroom, it was still dead silent. Logan would have been petrified at the idea of being caught naked by somebody, but Jake? Well Jake now hoped somebody would see him and be jealous. 

Getting into the bathroom, I passed by Brad, another guy on our floor, who had a towel wrapped around his waist, still glistening from his shower. 

“Jake, the fuck?” He asked. I couldn’t pull off Jake’s voice yet, but I gave him a pat on the shoulder and winked at him as I pushed past. For a second I caught a glimpse of him checking out my body before he shook his head and rushed out to his room. I went to one of the mirrors in the bathroom and knelt over, posing and kissing at myself. Jake was going to become a lot more playful it seemed. 

I took my time in the shower, feeling every crevice of Jake’s body and feeling myself up. And of course, stretching out his hole some more to work him up to taking a real dick. Maybe by one of his new frat brothers I need to meet. Once I got back to our room, I knew there was only one thing left on my to do list of the morning. I went to Jake’s hamper and pulled out the jock which was mocking me just hours before. I sniffed at, Jake’s pheromones becoming mine. 

I slipped both legs down and had no trouble at all this time adjusting my bulge and feeling the elastic hug my jock thighs. I snapped one of the bands, feeling a sheer run my spine as I did so. Slipping one of his black shirts on, I went for Jake’s phone, which thankfully could be opened with just his face. I snapped a few pictures for myself to look at whenever I pleased. Now, how about we download Grindr to it and see what this new body can pull?

[gynandromorph]

maybe it's just the context that i have? i'm sure i've posted this before

even then???!?!?? there are people who still go to church after God kills their mother!!! there are people who still go to church after the pastor drops dead during the sermon because God decided it was HEART ATTACK TIME!!!!!! THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO START GOING TO CHURCH AGAIN AFTER GOD GIVES THEM STAGE 4 CANCER

SO I CAN'T EVEN SAY "NO ONE WOULD DO THAT" CLEARLY A LOT OF PEOPLE WOULD DO THAT

[teddybeartoji]

film professor!toji, who always wears dark colored slacks and a button-up shirt, alongside with a tie loosely hanging around his neck and a pair of glasses that keep sliding down his nose. the watch on his wrist is always the same one, a relatively chunky silver one that surely can only look normal on a man his size. 

sometimes he rolls up his sleeves, sometimes he unbuttons a few buttons of his shirt; sometimes he ditches the tie entirely and goes for a less sophisticated look. the material wrapped around his biceps looks like it’s about to tear open whenever he folds his arms over his chest and his pants aren’t doing any better, his thick thighs are just bulging out whenever he decides to lean his ass against his desk. and he’s confident, he’s cocky. he looks tired as fuck and his hair is more often than not a complete mess, but needless to say, he always looks very, very good. 

film professor!toji, who’s got a habit of fidgeting with his pens. he’s either simply toying with them in his hands as he introduces the next film you’ll be watching or he’s got one between his teeth as he watches you guys do your presentations. and he usually tucks the thing behind his ear when he’s done playing with it. 

film professor!toji, who’s constantly throwing his legs on top of his desk when he’s listening to the class or when he’s showing you something from the projector. with his hands behind his head, he leans so far back in his chair that it has all of you placing bets on how long he’ll manage to hold that pose before he falls. he never does. 

film professor!toji, who’s an absolute sucker for films from the 80’s. indiana jones, alien, blade runner, scarface, evil dead etc etc – you name it, he’s seen it. has multiple big posters of said films in his classroom too btw. he’s not actually picky though, he’ll watch just about anything because well, why not. he’s not really pretentious either, though he will tease you if you claim a ‘silly’ film as your favourite but he won’t put you down for it. he’ll push you a bit, asking questions to test how sure you are of your answer and then just proceeds to watch you defend yourself with a long ramble with a sly little grin on his lips. that’s what he wants to see after all – that his students love films, no matter what kind. 

film professor!toji, who knows a lot of random facts about the most random films and is not afraid to very casually blurt them out during his classes. some of them are very informative and then some of them are rather questionable, leaning more towards a piece of gossip if anything else. but it’s not like anybody’s complaining.

film professor!toji, who asks what you guys have watched since your last class with him at the beginning of every single class. doesn’t spend an entire hour on this topic but it’s always a certified fifteen minute break from the actual studying because he thinks it’s important for his students to talk about films. to talk about what you saw – if you noticed any peculiarities or mistakes, whether you liked the thing or not. and he always listens; he sips his coffee with his pencil stuck behind his ear, and then proceeds to ask very specific questions. he seems to have seen, or at least to know, every single film ever made and it’s kind of ridiculous(ly hot).

film professor!toji, who's still somehow not entirely used to people calling him 'sir'. mr. fushiguro is what he usually prefers but the 'sir' still pops up every so often and it always catches him so off-guard that it takes him a second to realize that he's the sir.

film professor!toji, who rants in front of the whole class about how much it sucks to watch movies from your teeny tiny laptops. he’s a cinema guy, through and through. and of course, he understands if it’s like a money thing because well, it’s not the least expensive thing to do on a weekly basis but he just tries to emphasize how much better it is to watch things on the big screen. he urges all of you to always take the opportunity when it comes along. 

film professor!toji, who fucking hates grading any sort of papers. he just despises it. he huffs and puffs behind his desk with his head in his hands, contemplating whether this is the right job for him or not (he will never quit). 

film professor!toji, who mostly hangs out with his buddy down the hall, the loud-mouthed history teacher with pink hair. they go on smoke breaks together, laughing together over some stupid answer they saw on a test. 

film professor!toji, who throws his head back with an exasperated sigh every time he spots the white-haired physics professor staring into the hall from the small window on the door with a stupidly big grin on his face.

film professor!toji, who’s schedule falls just in line with the sly literature professor and his brother, the freaky philosophy professor. toji refuses to sit next to the latter, he finds him too off-putting. but with mr. geto – they like to drink their morning coffees together in silence in their own little corner, and it’s surprisingly comfortable. sometimes they talk about films as well, but they almost always end up bickering like some old people because their tastes do not align at all.

film professor!toji, who doesn’t miss the way some of the students seem to swoon over him – he finds it very amusing. he doesn’t really see the appeal, he thinks he’s way too old anyway.

film professor!toji, who’s eyes do seem to linger on you just a little longer than they do on others though. who does a very subtle double-take whenever you enter the room and who steals glances at you when he sees you in the halls. it’s not like he’d ever try anything, of course – that’d be incredibly inappropriate. you’ but he sure does think you’re pretty, there’s no denying of that… 

[mr-ribbit]

gonna rant again bc im seeing a lot of trans women on my dash having to carry the heavy lifting to argue for their basic respect and a lot of other queer people who want to ??? get mad about that apparently. for the record as usual: im tme, im not speaking for anyone besides myself and my perspectives, but I am trying to reach out to fellow tme people to level with y'all from inside the house.

i thought we all got past the 'calling people gendered terms when theyve asked you to stop' thing in like. 2012. i swear we were allllll on board with not calling women dude anymore, nerfing sir and ma'am, neutralizing collective terms for groups, and all of that was like, during the onceler era. that's how we got off-putting shit like folx into the mix - remember???? why are we here again.

to those who I've seen claiming that they REALLY genuinely don't want to offend anyone, and that theyre trying to understand the dude thing, and they don't want to be seen as transmisogynistic when they aren't: ok. let's talk about it. step one, stop sending that really loaded anon to a trans woman you don't know, and close that in-group hatepost with 100 replies from people name-dropping trans bloggers they don't like. try to open your mind and assume for the duration of this post that I am not cynically trying manipulate thousands of tumblr users into making Bro the next big swear word, but a fellow queer human being who thinks you're all being pretty intentionally obtuse about an upsetting trend in our community

to be clear: this post is about the issue of trans women being called bro, dude, man, etc., particularly in recent tumblr discourse about transmisogyny, and the backlash they face if they get upset about it. this is also maybe moreso about the shitty ass excuses I see tme people make for why they supposedly can't stop doing this.

so let's go through some of the things I've been seeing people say they don't understand, supposedly in earnest, about this issue

"I DIDNT USE DUDE AS A MASCULINE TERM. I CALL EVERYONE BRO. MAN IS A GENDER NEUTRAL TERM"

I'm not actually going to exhaust my list of reasons why dude/bro/man are not strictly neutral, but you should be pretty aware that all words have context. Dude might be seen as neutral in many contexts, sure, but 'woman who is frequently called a man by others' is a situation where the context adds extra meaning to your words, just like calling someone "sweetie" might be neutral in some cases, but if you've got the context of knowing that's your coworker who's half your age, it's a bit less neutral. If you're not capable of reading that context and being tasteful about when you say dude, then you need to at least be ready to respond gracefully when someone asks you to stop. This is the part I'd rather focus on.

"BUT I DIDNT MEAN IT THAT WAY. IM NOT TRANSPHOBIC"

I think you should consider broadening your perspective *beyond* your intention behind the word. people may already understand that you meant the word neutrally and therefore didn't have transmisogynistic intent, but that's not really the entire scope of what people are saying. if that's your only concern, you're just trying to clear your record, not actually listen to what they're saying.

there are lots of words people don't enjoy being called, and in most cases, when they say 'pls don't call me that', people respect that and move on. even if the word isn't a slur, if it hurts someone's feelings, we all as a society have agreed that it's pretty shitty to keep calling them that. if your friend asked you not to call them 'buddy' anymore because their dead grandparent called them that, or something equivalently personal, you'd probably respect that instead of telling them 'but I call everyone buddy!!' right? even if you didn't really understand why it bothered them so much?

there is a prominent tendency for trans women to be denied this privilege, and when they ask not to be called dude or bro, people don't seem to respect this request as much as they would in other situations. when I accidentally use a gendered word and someone tells me they don't like it, I try to respond with something like "my bad, I didn't mean it as misgendering but I can see you were still bothered by it, so I'll try not to keep saying it. sorry!" and most people are willing to accept that. when trans women ask people this favor, a lot of people get VERY defensive, and treat the request as inane or unfair, instead of just apologizing and moving on. this is why people are upset when this happens, and it's why people are calling your actions transmisogynistic

also like you might not be doing this, but a lot of people DO use dude and bro in an intentionally gendered way to make trans women uncomfortable. it's a power play bigots use to talk down to them or otherwise maliciously harass them. do you know what arguments they use to defend that behavior when called out on it? 'oh I call everyone that' 'dude is gender neutral calm down' 'dont overreact its just a word'. by acting like this, youre all just giving credence to those same arguments.

"WELL THEY SHOULDNT GET SO MAD AT ME WHEN I DIDNT MEAN ANY HARM"

they can get as mad as they want!! also, are you sure they're 'mad'? or are they just expressing their feelings about a negative topic to you, and it makes you feel bad, so you have to make them out to be unreasonably emotional? how do you think they should have phrased 'dont call me that' to better spare *your* feelings?

also like, in most cases, these women do not knowww you. if your main response to someone saying you disrespected them is to say "I didnt mean it that way, I meant it in a friendly neutral way", well that's NOT YOUR FRIEND! she has no idea what your opinions are or what you think of her!!! she has no reason to assume you only upset her in a friendly way and not a bad unfriendly way! but she did get upset, and she did the one thing she can do which is *tell you what upset her* and your response is to say "well actually you shouldn't be upset at all"??????

and another thing:

it's not just the issue of using the word 'dude', it's because you're coming off extremely dismissive of women who have asked you to stop doing something that harms them, and because your argument is basically that they just shouldn't be so bothered by it. or that they're stupid, irrational, or otherwise crazy for telling you that it bothered them at all, just because you Technically used a gender neutral word according to Your Rules. be honest, does that seem fair? If people were calling you something that bothered you enough to ask them to stop, and they responded like this, how would it make you feel?

focusing solely on your intent and what the words mean when you use them is the same thing as saying "just get over it". no woman should need to Prove to you that 'dude' is gendered for you to care about what she's saying. the fact that you're asking people to do that sucks and makes you look bad, which is why people are arguing with you and calling you a misogynist.

especially those of you who are only doing this with trans women who are actively arguing with. you're wielding misgendering as a cudgel and we can all see it, grow up please.

[infiniteglitterfall]

friggin faux-Palestinian history, istg

I'm in the middle of writing a post about the difficulties of pinning down details and dates in Palestinian history. This one is just me stopping to vent for a sec.

I came across the Wikipedia page for GUPS, the General Union of Palestinian Students. This is an organization with groups at colleges all over the world. Ish. It's shrunk over the decades.

The page made a bold claim: that GUPS was officially founded in Cairo in 1959, but had really started in the 1920s.

I called bullshit. The only source cited was a dead link to the 2010 version of the SFSU GUPS page, which said the same thing -- no context, no source, and especially, no explanation of how Palestinian student organizing could have started before there were colleges or universities in Palestine.

There were two. They were tiny. And they both taught in Hebrew.

Certainly, there could have been Arab Palestinian students there, who learned Hebrew there, or already knew it.

But were there so many that they started a student group that apparently lasted 35+ years before getting a name??

I could not find one other source for this.

So I deleted it and called bullshit.

Within a day, someone who wasn't even logged in reverted my edit. They told me that I hadn't proven that it was wrong, I'd just said it was illogical.

I started looking up sources and putting together a more detailed edit. In the meantime, I started a topic on the totally empty talk page, politely calling bullshit.

I said that I hadn't been able to find any sources in English OR Arabic that confirmed this claim, and that I thought it was an error made on a dead page.

The same person, now logged in, replied:

"you still haven't refuted the claim. the claim is still on their web page."

BRUH.

IT'S AN ARCHIVE OF A DEAD PAGE. BY DEFINITION, IT DOESN'T CHANGE.

This is exactly how it feels to research any of this stuff.

Every single time, it turns out that people's unsourced online bullshit is absolutely wrong.

Every single time, people just respond by insisting on believing whatever claim some rando made on the internet.

The problem is not that Palestinian history doesn't exist, hasn't been written down, or hasn't been researched. Of fucking course it has!!

(I have literally seen people claiming the contrary in the most wild-ass fucking ways. Supposedly-pro-Palestinian people, acting like Palestinians are wooby powerless fuzzy babbies whose books were all stolen by the cruel Jews 80 years ago, who had no way to replace that historic knowledge, and who have just been standing around ever since. It is the most Western Paternalism shit ever, and it absolutely drives me up the wall.)

The problem is that this is a topic that a lot of people are passionate about. And unfortunately, a whole lot of people are unwilling to back down on literally anything that "feels" pro-Palestinian to them, whether it's true or not.

It's purely going on Vibes, but the Vibes themselves are based on how something compares to the Vibes they get from social media and stuff.

And those vibes are so extreme and vehement that any kind of pushback sounds like You Love Genocide And Kill Babies For Fun.

It's just a fucking vicious spiral.

It's like playing tennis against the tennis-ball-throwing machine. It's not a real game. Nobody is engaging with you. It's just the same shit over and over.

(I was trying to type "shot." But apparently I swear so much that instead of autocorrecting me to "ducking hell," my phone now INSISTS I meant to cuss.)

I ended up getting Google to give me the Arabic for GUPS, and then digging for sources about its actual origin.

It turns out Yasser Arafat formed the Palestinian Students League in Cairo in 1949, and that became GUPS in 1956. This is entirely fucking unsurprising in any way if you know anything at all about actual Palestinian history. Of fucking course he did. This also explains why the first search result I found about GUPS was from the PLO. Of fucking course it was.

[satoruhour]

the racer toji smut won’t leave me alone so here is my additional brainrot bc my sister in christ we must suffer together <3

what about fem!reader who’s bf is a total ass bc he dragged her to the races but ignores her for the whole night bc he’s too busy showing off to the other guys and makes fun of her for not knowing shit about cars. she went to support him but he’s being so shitty and she goes to sulk alone near some quiet part.

a little boy comes to join her and he introduces himself as megumi, he hates crowds and loud noises so he sits with reader for a while, until his daddy comes along and his daddy is hot. toji introduces himself, asking what a pretty girl is doing alone in these parts and offers to show her his car but out from nowhere comes slimy bf who just embarrases himself trying to kiss toji’s ass and reader is like i need to break up with him

but ofc toji puts him in his place and tells him his gf is way out his league, and a real man would never leave his girl alone the entire night. it shuts him up fr and toji, megumi and reader leave to go check out some cars bc it’s nice to actually have someone tell you all about the cars instead of being made fun of for not knowing

the rest is obvs history bc megumi loves hanging out with reader and toji can’t keep his eyes off her. and vice versa hehe

a/n: jelly ur mind >>>>> also how did i write a whole FIC about this omfg im sick. i claim i dont like toji then write like this 💀💀 + can u tell how much i love making fun of incompetent men by the way i talk about reader’s shitty boyfriend cause youd be right. i hate men. ✶ / 2.2k

the stuffy parking lot had been a routine place for you at this point, taking the familiar route past shibuya 109 and into miyamasu-zaka avenue. you’re not entirely pumped to be in the car beside your boyfriend right now, who’s talking loudly and obnoxiously into his phone, but that isn’t what is irking you right now. you’re more worried when you reach there, sure to come face to face with his equally obnoxious friends who just can’t shut up about their cars.

it would be fine if they were being cocky and could back up their modifications and NOS with proper results from racing, but they were all losers, both figuratively and literally. you sigh for the umpteenth time when daisuke asks if you cancelled the dinner with your friends because he was going to celebrate his ‘sure’ win and you stifle the urge to laugh. sometimes you wonder why you’re still here.

“we’re here babe, c’mon, get out. i’ll go park the car and come back to get you,” as daisuke tells you this, he’s patting your thigh like you’re a dog, smiling his stupid smile and your brows knit together.

“can’t you just drive to wherever you’re parking?”

“ahh… no can do, baby — my parking’s somehow better when you’re not stressin’ me out in the passenger seat.” what were you doing dating a man who couldn’t even park? you groan into your hands, picking up your bag and exiting the vehicle, making sure to slam the door extra hard even if you’ll be getting a lecture later about harming his ‘baby’.

he’s perfectly fine watching your tantrum and doesn’t say anything except for continuing to smile, driving off without a care as he looks for a parking spot. thankfully you could save your face a little, since you were still early to the meet, a minimal amount of people lingering around the abandoned parking lot in their miniskirts and tights and tramp stamps — a look you definitely would’ve loved to try out if not for your boyfriend telling you you can’t show off your legs.

it’s like he has some personal vendetta against you, but really you think it’s just because he saved you from an unfavourable situation before and while at the time you expressed mutual feelings for him, he just might be holding you hostage with that favour he did for you, unconsciously feeling terrible if you were to leave him.

a few minutes pass, and then ten, and you’re waiting for a full fifteen minutes against a wall, all the while the classic crowd of tokyo is trickling into the car park, cars driving in slowly and you’re dreading every time someone enters, sure that you’re being judged for being daisuke’s significant other. and when the waiting time finally hits twenty, you’re taking matters into your own hands and turning the corner where he drove.

just to see him conversing with his loser friends who were already somehow there, showing off their own cars which they spent money on for nothing and laughing up a storm. you lug your body over, because while you were still somehow okay with daisuke, you couldn’t stand his friends.

“babe! ah, my bad, should’ve texted you that the boys were already here and that i was with ’em,” his affection was limited to just a hand on your waist, not wanting to look like a softie in front of them, “we were just talking about our updated NOS, or ‘nitrous oxide system’ for my cute baby who couldn’t remember it the first time.”

all you can do is burn in embarrassment as they laughed, ridiculing you for the mistake you made ages ago about the terminology of street racing that sometimes you couldn’t exactly grasp. you did your best each time, sometimes googling things about racing that you wouldn’t know otherwise, but because it was still pretty illegal in japan, it was difficult to find the specific terms they used. but with how much your boyfriend teaches you (as condescending as it was), you probably could’ve written an essay.

and it wasn’t a one-time thing either, from smacking your hand off the stick shift to pestering you about closing the car door more gently, you’re soon to reach your limit.

“yeah, i know what a NOS is, bitch.” you mumble under your breath, turning away from him as he continued joking with his boys before one of them shouted out someone else’s name, hiroshi, you heard and they all pile over each other like excited dogs, seeing his new and improved Mitsubishi Eclipse, a bright, striking green and your boyfriend follows them easily.

throughout the different races of the evening and the excitement, you’re left chasing after your boyfriend who can’t help but sidle up to different racers and their cars, and the dreaded situation you hoped wouldn’t arise, did. daisuke loved asking you questions with confusing numbers and letters, and then laughed in your face when you picked the wrong option.

so when he asked you whether a L72 or a 327 small-block was better for his sorry excuse of a Camaro from 1981, you answered that you knew they had used 327s for Yenko Camaros, but without the knowledge they had discontinued it since it wasn’t optimal performance for the car. “yeah, no, darlin’, they already stopped it and switched to big-blocks after ’69… i thought i taught you this!”

with lips pressed tightly together, you find that you hardly want to be here any longer, body turning hot with shame and tears prickling at your eyes. you don’t chase after daisuke when he walks off and nudges hiroshi about your limited knowledge about cars, hands clenching and unclenching into fists before you’re tugged gently on your jacket sleeve.

in front of you is a young boy, playing with his fingers shyly with a head full of messy black hair and strong features that scrunch up into an anxious expression and you’re squatting and wondering what business a young boy like him had in scenes like this before he’s explaining how he hates the loud music and noises of metal against metal and the sound of tires.

you frown, understanding him immediately as you ask if you can hold his hand to which he nods, “what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“fushiguro… megumi,” he mumbles, flinching when there’s an erupt of cheers from the concluding race.

“oh, honey, let’s go,” you squeeze his hand in solidarity, “let’s sit far away from the action, okay? you like music?”

megumi sniffles a little and nods again, calming down the further he is from all the cars, sitting down on the curb in an area where there’s fewer racers, it being a deadend for the route. soon, you’re fishing out your earphones to insert into his ears, playing a few favourites of yours at a softer volume to drown out the noise of the cars. you’re content to find someone as clueless as you in this whole thing, even if the other was a child, and you almost want to chastise his parents for leaving him so vulnerable in a place like this when said parent is looking left and right, jogging while looking for his son.

“that’s my dad…” megumi mumbles with hope in his voice as the man starts to call out for him, expression morphed into worry from the moment he looked down from his car to find megumi gone. the boy’s hands you back your earphones with a slight smile and a ‘thank you’ before running off, and you’re lunging forward just to make sure he’s safe, running a little behind him while he navigates his father’s voice. it seems like he doesn’t have much care for the loud noises when his dad is finally in view because he speeds immediately into his arms before a tall man comes into view, and you’re blessed with seeing this hot-ass dad in a baggy long-sleeved top.

“hey… thank you for lookin’ out for the kid. i’m fushiguro toji,” toji nods towards you in acknowledgement, looking past your face after appreciating it before glancing down to your figure. “what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

megumi who was propped up against his shoulder opts to cling to his father’s neck, hiding from the rest of the world while you walk slowly alongside the man, fingers thumbing the strap of your bag to keep your grounded. you were quick to explain that you were here because of your boyfriend, and you swear a glint of disappointment flashed in his eyes, but you don’t give it much thought because soon the man himself is running up to you with a renewed sense of confidence.

it was probably because toji was here; and sure, you knew about fushiguro toji and how much your boyfriend loved him, but you didn’t know how popular he could get, drawing countless pairs of eyes to your interaction. 

“hi! hi, fushiguro toji right?” and you’re already ready for the clownery to start when he opens his mouth, “i’m wakashita daisuke, big fan! any chance you’ll get back into racing?” daisuke is spouting so much shit you can’t even bear to look up but there’s one sentence that has got toji riled up, using just one hand to threaten your boyfriend who looks scared out of his mind. “you’d look so good with a Ford Mustang too, why don’t you sell off that old Corvette you’ve got—”

and soon toji is clutching onto the collar of his shirt, easily pulling him off the ground as the people surrounding you laugh and whoop. seems like you weren’t the only one who hated him.

“that Corvette means something to me, not like that piece of junk you call your Camaro. and at least i treat my car better than how you treat your girlfriend,” he spits the word like it’s venom, “who you can’t even respect as a person.”

daisuke is plopped onto the floor, but toji easily backs him up with a finger to his chest, “laughing like an idiot when she doesn’t know about engines and then saying you taught her — that would reflect your efforts as a teacher, wouldn’t it?” the man smirks when your boyfriend stutters out his answer, the crowd oooh-ing like it’s a free show.

“and then you leave her stranded for the whole night to hang with your boys, in a place where she’s uncomfortable and vulnerable. but you couldn’t give a shit, can’t you? you’re too busy sucking your friends’ cocks to notice.” there’s howls of laughter now (you can’t help but let out a giggle too) with how ruthless toji is being, all the while having a kid on his shoulder, but you imagine megumi is used to these types of altercations by now.

toji leans down to spit in his face, “you disrespect a woman in my eyes, you’re a joke to me.”

he just rolls your eyes, heading off from your stupid boyfriend and toji fully expects you to follow, beckoning you to go with him when you stay rooted. “c’mon, don’t mind him. he didn’t deserve you.” toji mutters, pressing a kiss to megumi’s temple as he leads you away from the scene silently, and you leap at the opportunity to thank him immediately.

“to be fair… i did all the research for my boyfriend,” toji interrupts with ex-, and you laugh, “yeah, ex-. but i’m not entirely opposed to learning about cars. they seem kinda cool.”

“is this your way of telling me you want me to teach you?” what’s a little flirting with a guy, anyway? even the other said it himself, daisuke didn’t deserve you. you nod with a sheepish smile, petting megumi’s head when he rouses from his dad’s shoulder, heart warming at how the young boy shoots you a gleaming smile.

toji shrugs with a little chuckle, “sure.” he’s keen on showing you his Chevrolet Corvette at the other end of the parking lot first, telling you about the specifications and the modifications he made for it to be suitable for drifting. he explains how his Corvette had to be converted to a rear-wheel-drive car, or a RWD to support the heavy stress on the back wheels to make a successful drift turn.

toji tells you the differences between a clutch kick and a shift lock and how to sustain a drift on a sharp turn, excited at finally finding someone who didn’t have a clue about racing. he even offers to show you, but you’re a little too intimidated by being in the passenger seat with him, especially when it’s going at high speeds.

“maybe another day,” you offer and toji picks up on your insinuation, trying to stifle at grin that maybe this attraction wasn’t one-sided. he liked the way you talked to megumi, he liked the way you intently listened about his love for cars, and he couldn’t wait to get you in his car with a hand to your thigh.

“i’ll hold you to your offer, darlin’.” the name sounded so much better coming from his mouth, an attractive smile lining his face before he offered his free arm for you to hang on, gasping silently when you felt how toned his arm was. oh, the late night thoughts you already knew you were gonna have…

“i’ll tell you about the other cars here, let’s go.”

thirsts and drabble requests are open!

[demon-country]

I'm kind of surprised that this isn't a more common opinion, but I really do think that Blitz started coming over way more often than just the full moon for sex and also that he started staying the whole night as time went on. Like, even if you want to claim that Stolas doesn't love Blitz, he only loves the idea of being loved - which I highly disagree with - Blitz ain't that kinda person. He doesn't catch feelings after only like, what, 12-ish days spent having marathon long sex, and a couple of times spent being vaguely together in public? Ain't no way, Blitz is too guarded for that, and even though BDSM breeds a lot of trust just by virtue of it being about trust more than it is about sex, there's no way those things alone would make Blitz start to fall in love enough that he lists Stolas among the people he doesn't want to live without and die alone, or enough to do literally all of The Full Moon and Apology Tour.

On Stolas' phone there is also a picture of a horse that Blitz drew, laid on Stolas' bed, showing that Blitz felt comfortable enough at Stolas' palace and in Stolas' company that he was willing to draw Stolas a horse. That speaks of intimacy, that speaks of familiarity, and that speaks of trust that Blitz would share something he loves doing with Stolas. It also speaks of them having the time to do things other than sex when he comes over.

Now, to be fair, Blitz himself says that Stolas liked to do things like call him a lot to ask about his day and whatnot, and liked his sinstagram posts all the time. And while their now-defunct official Instagram posts aren't strictly canon, Viv did say that the stuff there was true to what the characters might do. So if we take what Blitz said in Oops and applied it to something Blitz posted on his sinstagram account, then Blitz used to book out an entire hour on his daily schedule just to talk on the phone with Stolas. Spending an hour or even half an hour almost every single work day for around a year and regularly talking on sinstagram is definitely significant and would also foster familiarity and plant the seed that Stolas does care for him, even if Blitz's self-hatred and Stolas' more unfortunate comments prevented him from truly believing it.

But I don't think it'd stop with that. Sex is the only way Blitz feels he can really spend time together with Stolas, and it's the only thing he knows for certain that Stolas wants from him and is always down for. If he was catching feelings - and Ozzie's, The Full Moon, and Apology Tour all show that he most definitely was -, he'd start desiring to be around Stolas more often, which would almost definitely lead to him making excuses to come over and have sex.

Of course, he couldn't just admit that even to himself, so he probably would have excused it to himself as something like being too busy to find someone else to sleep with. Oh you know he's just so busy with work and taking care of Loona, and going out to find a fling when he has a perfectly willing booty call he can go see basically whenever he wants is just way less convenient. Why put in the extra work finding someone he's interested in when Stolas is a smoking hot great lay who's down to do pretty much anything and everything? Not that it means anything though! He could totally go get someone else if he wanted to, he just... doesn't. Because he's too busy for that, of course.

And why go to some rando's place if he's just gonna have to get up and leave right after? With Stolas he can stay the night in a giant ass, comfy as fuck bed (with a super soft, super snuggly bird. Uh, not that he cares about that though! It's certainly not like he's touch starved or anything, haha no of course not that'd be crazy! >_>), and in the morning if he sticks around long enough he can either get another round in or some fancy brand coffee.

Like, that's all just an example of how he might explain it to himself, but however he actually did, I'm of the opinion that he used to not stay the night, but most of the time by the end of it he did. Blitz doesn't fall quickly, but once he does he falls hard, and given how desperately he clings to Stolas in The Full Moon and Apology Tour, I'm not sure if he'd be able to stop himself from spending whatever time he could make excuses for with Stolas. The only reason he doesn't post-Ozzie's is because of Stolas' supposed rejection and, after Western Energy, because he feels unworthy of it and is scared of what his perceived failure to protect Stolas might have changed.

That's how I see it, anyway. But I guess it's a pretty unpopular opinion? This got way longer than I thought it would...

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - I’m Not Above A Love To Cash In

@a-closet-emo @coyotecrackers @DizzlyPuzzled @vigilant-insomniac @Kawaiijohn @fangirlwriting-stories

Danny’s kind of out of touch with humanity, that was kinda the point in the end. He had a job to do, people and ghosts to protect, a dimension to rule, and crazy bigoted ghost hunters to keep in line; potential distractions and collateral weren’t useful for anyone. Though maybe those would have been good for Danny’s well being, not that he cared too much about that.

Danny sighed at the little envelope, how the heck any of them even tracked down where he was living he had no freaking clue. Oh well, it was here now, meaning he couldn’t feign ignorance. The A-listers, or whatever they called themselves these days, had set up a reunion and had invited even him ‘Freaky Fenton’. Course they also managed to get the ghost mailman to deliver one to Phantom as well, which was slightly insane because as far as they knew Phantom had literally never gone to school at all??? Wasn’t it kinda weird to invite someone that not only wasn’t in your grade but wasn’t even in the school, to a high school reunion? Eh whatever, who was he to dictate who they invited, Dash probably demanded it actually. Ugh. So that left him with what to do about it, it would be rude as fuck for either Danny to not show and it would hurt his image in both forms. Jack and Maddie would spin some story about how it was proof that Phantom didn’t care about people, and then would say the same about Danny Fenton except that Fenton had been ‘tainted’ by Phantom.

To say they weren’t getting along these days would be an understatement. It made him very happy he never told them about being Phantom as a teen though. That would have ended with him strapped down on a table, no doubt.

His whole secret identity was the entire problem here really, his forms looked effectively identical meaning the two sides of him never being seen right next to each other was kind of important. Even being in the same room was too big a risk, if someone simply glanced from one to the other it was obvious. In photos he was fine, since ghosts messed up photographs and videos so severely.

Absolutely no one would buy it that neither one of them noticed the similarities. And absolutely no one bought that ‘Phantom stole Fenton’s face’ thing his parents once tried to spin. So Danny trying to play the similarities off wasn’t going to work.

…

Well he could simply do the aggressively opposite thing. Have Fenton and Phantom near each other constantly and clearly aware of the similarities for some reason. Just what kind of reason should he come up with? Claiming twins would get disproven in a heart beat, especially because everyone would wonder why he waited fourteen fucking years to reveal that shit. He… could, maybe, spin some soul mates bullshit. Ghosts were weird and did weird things and worked in weird ways, people would buy them having legit soul mates and being weird as fuck about it.

He should work shop this a little.

Really sell it.

Fuck.

Danny’s totally going to pretend to be his own fucking boyfriend at a random ass reunion that he still doesn’t know how he wound up getting invited to.

…

Oh Ancients Jack and Maddie were going to lose their minds when they heard about this. That’s it. He’s sold. He’s dating himself for a night. Fuck it. They put him through hell, he’s gonna put them through a little hell too.

Now how to explain it… ghost soul mates copy the appearance of their mate? Why though… hmmm… he doesn’t have a good one for that. Maybe… to recognise them while they’re still alive? Technically that could stab him in the ass if Fenton him ever died but well… unless something killed him then he wouldn’t die, semi-immortality was kinda a bitch like that. Old age was gonna bite him in the ass no matter what. And if he did get his sorry ass killed, finally rested in deaths grasp, his appearance would change to his ghost king form fully meaning that his ass actually would be covered by this dumbass excuse. Okay he is mentally swearing way too much and should absolutely go to bed at this point, sleep deprivation was absolutely taking the piss outta him right now.

He’s definitely sticking with this dumb dating himself idea though, it was just too good and too stupid.

Had Danny’s fully rested opinion changed from his sleep deprived one? not a chance. Eleven years ago this would have been utterly impossible to do, but now? he’s got duplication down pat, all his powers he was pretty solid with now. Not having friends gave him a crap ton of free time. Again, positive sides to negative things.

Heck he doesn’t even know what Sam and Tuck- Tucker were up to these days, it’s better left that way too. He’d be too tempted to keep checking up on them if he looked into it, and he gave that up the day he died and decided to keep that to himself no matter what. That no matter what had become losing his friends, his family, his sleep schedule, his unmarred body, his childhood home, his dream job, his grades, everything he used to care about except the stars. The stars he could be closer to than every living being, so he made that enough for him, it had to be.

Because he couldn’t follow his former friends, he couldn’t follow his former parents, he couldn’t follow his sister, he couldn’t follow his former teachers, he couldn’t follow his dreams. He refused to take all of that down with him, because the only one or thing Danny Fenton followed was Danny Phantom, because all Danny Phantom followed was Danny Fenton. Guess ‘dating’ was just taking it to another step, an absurd one but absurd was his half-life already so it was okay.

… Better thing to wonder about was what the heck to wear? He could slap his Phantom self in some of his more humanly normal royal wear but Fenton him? He owned one suit and it was shit. Most of his clothes were shit, he never actually paid for them so most were either destroyed or cheap enough that he didn’t feel too bad about the act of theft. His morals were another thing he gave up following, at least following it to a tee anyways. Eh fuck it, he’ll ‘barrow’ some of ‘Phantom’s’ royal wear. He’s not wasting time, money, or further morals, on trying to get something decent in a human way.

When was this happening again?

…

Tomorrow. Of course. It was fucking tomorrow. Figures that it would take a while to mail shit to a ghost and figures that they’d be lazy about sending ‘freaky Fenton’ an invite. Ugh. Whatever, he doesn’t really have energy to waste on caring or being bothered. Screw them too. He’ll be late purely to repay the audacity. That way he’ll also have to deal with everyone less, all the ‘normal’ people. Which if Tucker or Sam showed would probably be for the best, he doubts they’d approach him but it’d be painful to see them regardless. Not being in school anymore made it easy to fall out of being used to ignoring and avoiding them.

Though to be fair, he’d been out of school longer than everyone else, since he dropped out as soon as he legally could. Turning seventeen had be such a massive turning point for him, he’d been building up to dropping out and the teachers all knew it. None of them expected anything from him, Lancer held out hope longer than most but not even that man could hold out hope for a lost cause for long. Jack and Maddie thought he was joking till the day he actually dropped out though, they kicked him out of course which he expected; he didn’t even bother taking anything since nothing that was still there held any value to him.

Over time they had destroyed, one way or another, every physical thing he did care about. So he stopped bringing new things he would care about, it was a waste and only stood to hurt him in the long run. Them taking apart his telescope he spent years saving for just to make some stupid new invention was the nail in that particular coffin. So he left them everything he’d ever had but some clothes, that were barely wearable but he couldn’t exactly walk around naked. He’d been tempted to purely to make a point that everything in that house was worthless to him, them included, even if that used to be a lie.

Now he had some decent stuff, his mattress had a bed frame with stars scratched into the wood. That was something. Yeah…

…Yeah

He does have some food in the fridge right? Shit he should totally raid the free food at the reunion thing, the local town hero needed it more than they all did really. He’s seriously hoping that they have those yummy cheese tart things, those were delicious.

Fenton stretches out, eyeing his Phantom duplicate, it was so much harder to make a human duplicate than a ghost one so the choice of which one to make ‘real’ was fairly obvious. Snickering as Phantom chucks some clothes right at Fenton’s face, this kind of crap always amused him, being a goofy jerk to himself by himself. Fenton shaking his head, “dumbass”.

“You know talking to yourself isn’t supposed to be healthy”.

“As if we’re remotely close to healthy anything”.

Either way Fenton pulls the dark green knit tank top on, it looked acceptable over the black poets blouse, and the puffy blouse sleeves worked with the baggy harem pants. The shiny dress shoes stuck out bit so he’s swapping that shit out to soft weathered leather boots. Phantom’s already dressed in something more form fitting, like he always wore in that form, straight cut pants he’s sure are from the early nineteen hundreds and a borderline military tight collared and fully buttoned up jacket. Phantom sticking with the white boots and black gloves, there really wasn’t a reason to change that and he wasn’t a fan of people seeing the scarring on his left hand/arm.

Both of the hims absolutely rock the evil eyeliner though, because of course.

Fenton straightening the random bullet necklace he threw on, “so, ready to go babe”; fuck this was gonna be hilarious.

Phantom finger gunning right back, “tots babe”.

Oh here’s hoping he can hold his laughter and mocking smirks inside his mind. Everyone even in this spooky town could be so dumb though that they might not even notice even if he didn’t manage to keep himselves together. Plus he was ‘the freak’ and ‘crazy’ so he probably would get written off anyways. Fenton gesturing out the door as he opens it and begins to walk out. Phantom chuckling, “naw, I’ll fly us”; and having Fenton pretend to be startled when he gets picked up by his ‘romantic partner’. Man he’s going to make himself laugh at this point.

It doesn’t take long to get to Elmerton, at least the ‘A-listers’ had the sense to not try and hold a reunion inside Amity Park, especially when a lot of the people who were likely invited had made a point to get the hell out of dodge once they could. Amity was kinda a nightmare so Danny couldn’t blame them, even if it felt a little insulting. He thought he was doing a damn good job of keeping everyone safe! Sure there was lots of damages but no one ever got seriously injured. Living in a so called normal town just sounded boring to him these days, what did all those people even do with their time? Sleep? Eat? Did people still go to the movies these days or was that outdated? Whatever. Not his life style not his problem.

Phantom zipping up to open the door, Fenton stuffing his hands in his pockets and following along. Fenton had the loner lazy weirdo image to maintain after all. And there’s Star immediately, honestly he kind of expected either Dash or Paulina or maybe they were just ‘too good’ to greet people at the doors.

Star opens her mouth and nothing comes out, her just staring at the two hims. Yup. She noticed the freakish similarities immediately. She swallows very awkwardly and her smile is pinched, “Phantom! Danny! Glad you could make it!”. That rang about as true as a fucking potato trying to pass as a turtle. What the fuck. Did they just not expect either of hims to show up? Why even invite him then!

Phantom tilting his head, “well I was invited, someone went through a kinda weird amount of effort to do that”. Fenton scoffing, “and I can absolutely just leave if I’m not actually welcome, don’t know why y’all went to the effort to track me down if you didn’t want me here though”.

She waves them both off, “no no no! You’re both fine!”, and fiddled with all the little name plates, “it’s…”, side-eyeing Phantom’s glowing self, “just been a while since I’ve been around a ghost and wearing a bullet to see a bunch of people you haven’t seen in over a decade seems a little concerning”.

Fenton blinks, is she trying to say it came off as a threat? “If I was going to threaten people I’d do it to their face and if I was going to shoot people I’d have walked in with a gun”.

“That’s… not comforting”, she looks Fenton up and down, “you’re not armed right”.

“No!”; oh my zone just how bad was everyone’s opinions of Fenton? Ugh. Phantom gestures at his face, “I’m kinda always armed? I can’t do anything about that”.

She actually chuckles at that, handing them their name plates, “still a joker I see”.

“Death can’t kill these puns”.

Fenton snickering, “hopefully it can still off me though”. Phantom laughing lightly back, “you’re not a walking sentient pun, otherwise I feel very misled”; and makes a point to ruffle Fenton’s hair and have Fenton grin a little fondly at the action.

It was actually kinda nice to feel his hair being ruffled up again though…

Star, finally, gets the vibes he’s putting out. Vibes squared that he’s putting out. Doubly putting out. Her eyes widening, “oh my god are you two dating? Since when and how even!”.

Danny’s a little miffed she didn’t even comment on how similar the two hims look though. Like come on! If this whole thing was pointless he’s going to be annoyed enough to try setting something on fire. Nothing like arson to really scratch that destructive itch.

Fenton quirks an eyebrow, “I mean, yeah?”, sharing a glance with Phantom before looking back to her, “and pretty much ever since I dropped out, folks kicked me to the curb and this idiot showed up”.

“I’m the smart one in this relationship”.

“I don’t know about that, you dipshit”,

“Hey!”.

Oh okay, so that’s why everyone liked calling him insulting names. It was legit hilarious and weirdly satisfying… hopefully he doesn’t come out of tonight with a weird degradation kink, that would be his luck and very concerning. Would confuse a lot of ghosts though.

Star shakes her head with a more genuine grin, “I think I’m glad then, feel free to head on in. There’s food and drinks to the left”. Sweet, free food. “No invisibly stealing most of it, Phantom”. Aw. Damn. He’s still going to just… with more subtlety.

Phantom smirking, “so steal all the food, gotcha”, and winks before they’re fully inside.

It’s loud, not club loud but noisy. A second duplicate absolutely raids the table, just taking only a few things and at random. Not the toasted sandwiches though, ew. Hard pass.

Lily spots them first, nearly running over, he can tell by scent alone that she’s got kids now. Weird. “Holy crap, Danny? Phantom? Did you guys just arrive by chance together or do you- holy what the?”, she stops a bit away from them and tilts her head, “did you two always look this similar?”, and shakes herself off before coming all the way over to the two hims. “So both of you still in Amity I guess? Phantom obviously but you seriously didn’t leave Danny? With how crap your parents were to you?”.

Wow. Way to be gentle about it, damn. Fenton quirks a judgmental eyebrow, “harsh much, but Amity’s big enough that we avoid each other pretty easily. They leave my precious Nasty Burger and coffee shops alone, I stay the hell away from FentonWorks. It works”. Phantom nodding readily, “plus I would be very sad if he went and left”, and makes a point to pout goofily.

Lily hums and nods, “oh yeah I guess since most of us left, you’d miss anymore leaving huh?”.

Dense much. Fucking Zone.

Fenton and Phantom exchanging looks before staring at her. Phantom giving her that smirk that meant he was about to say something stupid, Danny loved making that smirk, “no, I’d miss sucking his face off”.

Lily squawks, scandalised, “you don’t just say stuff like that! And you’re dating!”, tilting her head, “you guys have the same name and could pass as twins, that is so weird”.

“WHAT! Oh mi god!”.

Ah that sounded like Paulina. This ought to be fun.

Paulina almost knocks Lily over and physically flings her arms around Phantom’s neck. Danny can’t resist but have Phantom give Fenton an awkward apologetic look; just to make Lily uncomfortable. That absolutely works and she shuffles on her feet and taps Paulina’s should in an attempt to get her to stop.

“I can’t believe you actually came! Oh this is the best! And you’re still so muscley! And you smell like lime still!”.

He… forgot how creepy she could be, actually. Wow. He’s nipping this in the ass. Fenton putting a hand on his hip, “you done dangling off my ghost, Paulina”; he makes sure that comes off as chastising instead of actually questioning.

Paulina doesn’t get off of Phantom and instead just turns her head to look at Fenton, “and you are? What could you possibly mean by that?”.

Holy shit. By all the Ancients. She doesn’t even recognise Fenton him. What the fuck actually. For someone who was, and clearly still is, so obsessed with a version of him she clearly couldn’t be bothered to remember him. Phantom prying Paulina’s arms off him with an almost baffled raised eyebrow, “Danny Fenton? You know? The kid you guys used to call freaky all the time? My soulmate?”.

“Your what?”. Of course the last bit is the part she really cares about. She stares at Fenton, who glares, her looking back to Phantom, “I refuse to believe that”.

You know what? Fuck it. Time to absolutely horrify everyone and do something arguable really weird. Fenton grabs a fist full of Phantoms hair and kisses him like he fucking means it. Even though all he really means is that he desires to disturb Paulina and see if he can make her throw up on command.

She doesn’t throw up, sadly. She does start waving her hands around and backing away disgustedly though; an almost win. “Oh god ew! I don’t want to see that loser kissing anyone! Especially not Phantom”. Well too bad Paulina, you’re seeing it. Lily is busy clutching her pearls and shuffling away from them like they’re physically toxic to be around; which with him being literally a ghost in one of his forms that was actually an accurate statement.

Fenton does break off the kiss though, “oh so you do remember me?”. She scowls at Fenton him so he has Phantom whole ass bite Fenton’s neck with his fangs like a proper possessive asshole ghost would. Her scowl deepens and he feels very satisfied with himselves.

She backs up a bit, “unfortunately. Now at least. I would have preferred not to have the reminder”, looking to Phantom almost hopefully, “are you sure? Serious?”.

Phantom keeps a hand around Fenton’s waist, “course! It’s pretty obvious he’s supposed to be mine so”. Fenton sticks his tongue out meanly while Phantom shrugs like all of this is a given.

“No it’s really not”.

“Holy shit Phantom!”.

“Wait really!?”.

“Phantom!”.

“Wow you’ve changed! Awesome man!”.

“He came!”.

“I forgot how freaky ghosts looked”.

“HI!”.

Fenton gets pretty much shoved to the side as Phantom gets mobbed. Ahh yeah Danny did not miss all the fangirls and fanboys shit. He really didn’t. That was one thing about being a hero he could seriously do without. It was at the least uncomfortable and at the worst actively dangerous for everyone involved. Fenton huffing and shaking his arms out, going through the motions of running his bite mark and grumbling about people hogging ‘his boyfriend’. Fuck it, Fenton him is hitting up the food table and grabbing both hims a drink. The duplicate can deal with all the damn fans and freak outs.

Phantom chuckles awkwardly when Dash smacks him a few times in the arm, “solid and tough as always I see! Man it still sucks that ghosts couldn’t be on the team!”.

“And I’ll point out that would have still been unfair”; like really, Danny, especially as Phantom, could pick up the entire school building. He could kick a football into the goddamn stratosphere.

Dash smacks him again, “oh who cares”.

“I do? And did?”. Danny liked to pretend he still had good solid morals sometimes.

James starts aggressively shaking Phantom’s hand, “man it’s been too long, wow i thought I’d been misremembering that your skin, or suit I suppose, tingled!”. Phantom only laughing awkwardly in response.

“You still doing the whole super hero thing?”.

“it’s almost weird to see you all grown up?”.

“You know you practically were part of our class!”.

“Could you imagine if he still looked like a kid?”.

“Amity’s ghost issues as bad as ever!”.

“Think I could get a signature for the kids?”.

“The Fenton’s still trying to catch you?”.

Okay this was a bit much, like it always was. Most of Amity didn’t do this crap now, everyone used to him just kinda always being around. Everyone here though? Again most of them left Amity, meaning he was now a novelty to them. Phantom him was at least.

Danny’s putting a stop to this, “Hey spooky butt”, Fenton leans his face and one drink over Phantom’s shoulder in a way that could only be described as shit-eatingly sultry.

“Holy shit Danny!”.

“Looks like someone finally learned how to dress”.

“Why are you getting Phantom a drink?”.

Paulina crosses her arms and huffs, “apparently they’re dating”, waving a hand around dismissively, “soul mates or whatever”.

OoOooIooOoooOoOooh someone’s jealous. Ha! He loves to see it. Suck on that, little miss stalker.

Everyone just kind of goes silent, zone someone actually goes and shuts off the music even. Wow. His both touched and slightly horrified. Phantom takes the drink from Fenton and sips noisily at it while everyone stares; Fenton just smirking his ass off and Danny trying not to have either hims collapse to the floor in laughing fits.

Todd snapping, “what the hell does that mean”, then scowling, “wait, why do I even care?”, and stalks off to aggressively grab a rice crispy square. That starts the shouting though.

“What?!”.

“What does she mean dating!?!”.

“There’s NO WAY THAT’S SERIOUS!”.

“How!”.

“Woah woah woah huh?!?”.

“WHAT!”.

“The hell happened!”.

“How does this even make sense!”.

Paulina looks pleased with herself actually, smirking at Fenton like this somehow proved something? Danny’s completely lost on what she thinks she’s won. Like, Danny’s winning here, mass confusion was practically ninety percent of the goal. He wanted to piss off, freak out, and annoy these people. Most of them had treated him like shit, the others didn’t care, and well, two were… okay but he was best leaving them confused too. At least he doesn’t see either of them yet.

Dash near shrieking, “Fenton!”. Danny’s suddenly distinctly remembering that this guy used to slam him into walls and try to drown him. Fenton ducking down under Phantom's arm to be able to slip under it to move in front of his ghost self, “what do you want, Dash? Feel like revisiting shoving my head in toilets?”. He makes a point to have Phantom watch the interaction like a very obviously protective hawk; protective eyes for Fenton only. He is legit enjoying seeing Fenton him standing up against Dash though, especially since Fenton was taller than Dash now and more bulked up.

Someone fell off with all their working out. Ha! As if that would ever happen with Danny, he’s mere existence was a work out.

Dash glaring up at Fenton, sneering, “Fenton, still being weird I see”.

“Let me guess, I was invited to be the freak show you lot would point at and use as a way to make yourselves feel better about how your own lives turned out? What? Upset that you were right about peeking in Highschool?”.

Dash actually clenches a fist, Danny keeps Fenton glaring straight at his face, and makes Phantom’s eyes glow dangerously in warning. Dash wilts immediately, scoffing, “gotta have a ghost fight your battles for you, Fenton. Whatever”.

Fenton cackles meanly, wandering off to pick up one of the full coolers up over his head with ease and shout, “you wanna go bitch?!? You think I’m hooked up with a combative mother fucker without getting a few hits in myself!”. Yes, fear human him even slightly, please him.

Then Star stomps over, “Danny put that down”, pointing at Dash, “Dash, this isn’t Highschool anymore, grow up”, then looking at Phantom, “please discourage this?”.

Phantom blinks innocently, “why would I? It’s hot when throws shit at people, he threw Johnny’s bike two days ago, ten outta ten”.

That gets him a lot of ‘what’s’ and Paulina recoils, “you, called Fenton hot”.

Phantom shrugging like this is obvious, “well he is”. Note, Danny is fully aware that he is absolutely not hot or conventionally attractive in anyway. He just wants to see her grossed out. The disgusted look is so worth it, worth all this crap.

Kwan shakes his head, but when he smiles at both Danny’s his smile is genuine, “well good for you two then!”. Dash glances away awkwardly, Danny’s guessing those two had a falling out. Figures, Kwan was always a kinda decent dude that was just surrounded by assholes. Kwan coming over and smacking both of the Danny’s shoulders, “how’d this happen though?”.

Multiple people raise their hands, clearly wanting an expilnation for this shit too; zone the music is still off. Danny knows he’s a hot topic, as Phantom at least, but for fucks sake! Phantom and Fenton exchanging glances before Fenton crosses his arms at the group, “after I got the familial boot, this shit ass”, jabbing a thumb back at Phantom. Phantom muttering, “yes insult me harder, daddy”, purely because that was absolutely taking this a step too far. Making Fenton pause and look back at ghost him, “I can’t believe you actually said that”, then turning back to everyone, most of whom look varying degrees of freaked out, “so this shit ass, helped me get back on my feet and not be contentedly homeless and you know, when a hero type starts stealing things for you you start to question that shit. And well, romance bloomed”. There are some ‘aw’s’ and some gags and some eye rolls. Expected, many here had once had crushes on Phantom him and also viewed Fenton him as a loser; most wouldn’t be happy about this pairing not that he cares.

Phantom waving at everyone with a big smile specifically to get their attention, “we’re soul mates!”, humming, “which is a ghost thing so it’s probably really weird to the living”.

Fenton nodding, okay self… selves, time to sell this shit. Fenton pointing at his face then Phantom’s face, “it’s why we look alike”. Phantom nodding immediately, “looking like our loves makes them easier to find”.

Jesse blinks, he was dressed in an actually starched suit, “so ghosts just copy their partners appearance until they find them as ghosts? Until they die? That seems a bit insane and like it would mess with your sense of self”.

Paulina stares at the ground, “so I’ve been crushing on a Fenton look-alike, ew”. Oh Danny hadn’t even thought of that reaction! Ha! Suffer for his amusement. This was a great plan.

Fenton smirks to himself, “yup. Too bad you missed out on the real thing huh?”. She scowls deeply at him and stalks off, apparently done with his bullshit; the quick glance she gives Phantom is a little odd but maybe this will finally kill her odd obsession with half of him.

Phantom hums, shaking his head in that way that makes his hair flop around detached from gravity, “oh I can look how I’m supposed to look fully if I want to”, leaning over and pinching Fenton’s cheek, “looking like this silly little human, in general body shape, is just more tolerable around all you humans”; then running the same hand through his hair, changing it to white flames as he does so. Danny lets the fire hair ‘hang out’ on and around Phantom’s head for a bit before settling back to his standard hair.

Dash grumbling, “I’d rather look like some beast than a loser. Fire hair is cool anyways”.

Brittney sticking up a finger, “but with this, then wouldn’t you have known since you first met? When you first showed up in Amity? So why didn’t you date back in Highschool?”.

Phantom quirks an eyebrow at her like the answers obvious, because frankly it is, “He’s alive? I wasn’t about to mess his life up, then suddenly he wasn’t in school or at his home. He was alone with no real human responsibilities so I decided why not? And I could hardly do nothing when my mate could use some help”. Dating any ghost, especially himself, would have gone horrifically bad while he was still living with Maddie and Jack. The amount those two would have tried to use him and this fabricated soul mate bond thing would have been absolutely insane and very very painful eventually. Even if he had dated a blob ghost that would have ended in the ghostly ultimate destruction. Even now dating a ghost came with far too much risk to them, dating himself he could get away with since he was a very powerful ghost and also knew exactly what he was getting himself into more or less. Besides, if dating himself is what gets his ass finally truly hurt by those two he will laugh.

Star grins at the ghost, “that is very adorable”, then looking at the mass of people, “okay that’s enough mobbing them, this is to mingle with everyone not just ogle Phantom”. Oh hey, look at the old queen bee lackey being the voice of reason now, talk about moving up in the world.

A couple people grumble but things do go back to somewhat normal, the music comes back on too. Nice. Star nodding curtly to herself, then to Fenton, “now I didn’t ask this earlier but are the Fenton’s going to show up? They weren’t invited but they were never big on following rules”.

Both Danny’s chuckle at that, Fenton shaking his head, “so long as no one tells them a ghost’s here, then no”.

“Glad to hear it, now I’m going back to greet people, I imagine there will be a couple more late arrivals”. Fenton smirks meanly at that while Phantom tries to look slightly apologetic, ultimately Danny didn’t really care and they should be glad he bothered showing up to an event full of people that either ignored his existence or treated him like shit except when he was saving their hides or floating around as Phantom.

Phantom finally gets to sip his, unfortunately ectoplasm free, drink and take some food from Fenton. Danny’s tempted to have Fenton fucking hand feed Phantom just to mess with people. The tarts are sadly really bland, is this what ‘normal’ grown ups liked to eat? Hard pass. But people’s tastes seriously get this boring? How sad and a bit pathetic. Live a little! Enjoy some flavour!

Kwan elbowing Phantom, “so the ghost problem still going strong”, laughing almost awkwardly, “I haven’t exactly been keeping up, the tech industry is a hard core one!”.

Ah so he worked in tech now? He’d expected English, a teacher maybe, he seemed to like poetry if Danny’s remembering right? Phantom chuckles, “of course! I doubt that’ll ever change. Serious damage doesn’t happen too much now though, since I’m pretty solid on what kind of damage is serious damage in the living world now”. Fenton nodding, “and I get the fun of patching his dumbass up when he lets himself get hit for a pun”.

“As if you don’t do the same”.

Fenton snorts, making a point to seem amused by Phantom’s antics. Phantom smirking playfully before looking back to Kwan, “besides, no ghost these days would want to actually get on my bad side with my position, you know?”. Jack and Maddie might very loudly and very aggressively deny that ghosts could possibly have a political system but everyone else seemed to accept it at least. Besides, those two hunters being loud about anything didn’t somehow make it true, even if the town believing the whole ‘ghost king’ thing made some of them a lot more leery of Phantom. Like he’d execute them or try them for dissent or something if ‘his human people’ went against him. Some folks moved out purely because they didn’t want to be in a town under ‘some ghost royals rule’, even though Danny had firmly established his Phantom self as the good guy by now. Humans could be so annoying. None of the ghosts got pissy about being under his domain and they were more under it than any human in Amity.

Kwan looks… confused? “No I don’t think I know? Are you, like, an actual ghost cop now? Man that would be so cool”.

What. Hmm. Well. Maybe most of these people don’t know? Most of his old ‘citizens’ hadn’t been citizens for a while before Danny took the throne proper and him doing so got leaked, thank you very much Vlad. Asshole. Though having very public arguments with the Observants in the mild of the fucking sky probably didn’t help, or him actually having to go scary ghost king on that one Ancient that tried poisoning the water supply with corpses. If you’re gonna mass kill people be a proper ghost and do it with your own bare hands. Danny makes a point to have Phantom look to Fenton in confusion, Fenton facepalming, “right. Most of y’all have been gone a while”, moving his hand off his face and giving Kwan a mean smirk, “Phantom’s been the current ghost king ever since he became an adult ghost”, waving a hand around dismissively, “its been, what? eight years?”.

Phantom nodding, “and my town’s, Amity’s, known for five because Plasmius is a jerk and the Observants won’t stop hassling me”, grumbling, “one of these days I swear I’m gonna start shooting them with suction darts”.

Fenton barking a laugh as if he wasn’t fully aware of what his other self was going to say, “if that works I will mock them relentlessly”.

“Please do, anyone who doesn’t give up on political assassination attempts after the third failure deserves to be mocked”.

At this point it was like they felt obligated to try at least once per year, it was very annoying and a waste of his time. At least all the other ghosts who started beef with him provided some entertainment and stretched his muscles out, let him satisfy that pesky little protective obsession of his. The eyeballs were just jerks. At least he had fun setting the last wannabe assassin on fire. Ha.

Kwan blinks before smacking Phantom’s arm hard, “wow! Congrats then! I’m busy enough just being a desk boy usually! Being a king would be awful, no offence”, then smacking Fenton’s arm one, “and congrats on bagging royalty!”.

Todd scowling from a little bit away, “fuck, right, I forgot that asshole got that throne thing, ugh I hate this town”, and wanders off further away from Danny’s hims and their everything.

But someone’s turned off the music, again ugh, it’s Lindsey by the controls and she’s gapping at the hims, “what do you mean Phantom’s royalty!”.

Oh. This shit again.

Everyone starts yelling at the hims again.

“What!?”.

“Oh that’s awesome!”.

“For defeating that dude that abducted the town right?!?”.

“For how long!”.

“That’s absurd!”.

“I could have dated a king!”.

“We sorta went to school with royalty!”.

“Oh my god!”.

“WHAT!”.

“Why are there still ghosts then!”.

“Does that make Amity, like, a royal capital!”.

Phantom buries his face in his palms, groaning loudly. Man Danny remembers going through this back when Vlad leaked everything and the towns folk realised he wasn’t joking. So many questions, an entire press conference even. Fenton crossing his arms and scowling, “there’s an entire press release on it, google it your self, hell go track it down on TikTok I don’t care”.

Phantom sighing again and removing his hand from his face, looking at the people in his line of sight, “yes it’s the throne the guy who abducted the town had. It’s only been eight years and the towns know for five. No I’m not going to mass control the ghosts to stay out of Amity, freedom is a big deal to ghosts. Amity is technically a royal capital but it’s not in the Infinite Realm so that doesn’t actually mean much. And yes it is absurd”, gesturing a hand at his head and making the green flaming crown appear for a few seconds before sending it away again.

Fenton pretty much gets shoved away from Phantom again as everyone pretty much mobs the ghost, Kwan patting an annoyed Fenton’s shoulder, “so what have you been doing? Outside of apparently dealing with Phantom’s craziness all the time”.

(Phantom holds up his hands, “alright alright, just stop shoving my mate around. Geez”. Only a couple of people apologise)

Fenton huffs, at least the man sounded genuine, after all most people didn’t expect Danny Fenton to amount to much of anything. Homeless and jobless was the expectation. It was also almost accurate, if he wasn’t Phantom at least. The only reason he had an apartment at all was because he was better at making weapons than his parents were, even if he sold his more or less illegally. The G.I.W. would never approve someone who was ‘in league with the dead’ to deal ghost tech in any form, even if they did, Jack and Maddie would try to keep him out. At least Vlad pulled his weight by letting Danny sell the more important stuff under the Dalvco brand, like shields and ghost-plant killer that secretly doubled as a Blood Blossom spray. His general weapons were blackmarket only though, fuck the government. “If I told you I’d have to kill you”. Kwan rolls his eyes and Fenton snorts after a beat, “I sell weapons on the blackmarket”.

… It takes a bit but, Kwan blinks, “oh you’re serious”.

(Phantom chuckles awkwardly, “yes I’m a lot stronger now than I was back then, I don’t flaunt that though”.)

Fenton shrugging, “it’s ghost weapons, dude. More ghost friendly, Phantom friendly, and more effective than what FentonWorks or Dalvco produce. And not legislated to the zone and back like G.I.W. tech, plus fuck those guys, no Amity Parker current or past would buy shit from those assholes”.

“Yeah I absolutely remember them shooting live rockets at little kids that one time”, Kwan shakes his head, “I guess that makes sense, can’t do it legally because of being publicly pro-ghost?”.

(Danny internally sighs as most of the group shove pens and paper and whatnot at Phantom, ugh).

“Got it in one, got it in one. It doesn’t make good money but it does make some. Enough for a place to live and cheap food, I’m not moving into the gz regardless of someone’s insistence on how cozy it is”.

Kwan actually takes that comment in stride, good for him, “I mean, you’re gonna be there one day anyways? So why rush it? Even if Phantom would probably prefer you there sooner than later”, the guy scratches his head, “man that must be weird. Being a ghosts soul mate or whatever. Chelsea marrying that old guy was weird enough, a dead guy is on another level”.

Chelsea married a sugar daddy? Really? Okay… Get that bread he guesses. Fenton snorting, “if she’s making bank and living the rich life because of that then good for her”, shrugging, “and outside of him running of to throw fists and laying on the ceiling, it’s not much different from dating a human. Getting bitched at about royal shit is way more weird”, looking down at himself and sticking his arms away from his torso some, “the clothing’s nice though”.

“That’s ghost clothing?”.

Fenton smirks, “yup. This shirt is probably older than our parents. And I think the boots are made from Minotaur hide”. He doesn’t think, he knows they are. Ghost clothing was badass like that.

(Phantom rolls his eyes at Jasper, “no I’m not going to just make people my knights when they die”.)

James pops his head over, “that would freak me out to wear, damn aren’t you worried about ecto-contamination and shit? I’d prefer to stick to stuff made by human hands, cool though”.

Was it weird? He didn’t think so. “There’s so little ecto on it that it really doesn’t matter, besides if clothing was bad for my health Phantom would kill me via cuddles”. Kwan bursts out laughing, and nods repeatedly.

James nods a little, “oh yeah! I guess that would be right huh?”.

The Danny makes a point to have Fenton jerk a little from Phantom just kinda appearing right next to Fenton. Kwan putting a hand to his chest and James yelping a little. Fenton glancing at Phantom, “got bored of being mobbed or doing signatures?”. Ancients everyone wanted signatures and if Phantom wasn’t the duplicate Danny’s sure his hand would be sore for at least ten minutes. Ugh. signing shit for Craig’s goddamn six children was wild though, his poor wife. Phantom pouting, “yes”.

“I did warn you that would happen”.

“I wasn’t going to not show up, that would be rude!”.

At least the music turns back on, thank everything. Dale spotting and hearing where Phantom disappeared to and popping over, “everyone’s glad you came, even if being around a ghost again is a little off putting and weird”.

Phantom rubs his neck, “me being more powerful probably doesn’t help”. Fenton shoving him a little good naturedly.

Dale acts like Phantom didn’t even say anything, “and yeah Fenton was kinda invited in hopes you’d be more likely to show, since both of you were seen near each other a lot”.

Kwan gives the other man a disappointed look, “dude”. Making Dale blink, “oh right yeah that was mean”, and just stares off blankly a little.

Wow. Fucking figured but damn. Jerks. Though right, wasn’t Dale the guy that had some brain damage? Eh, Danny shouldn’t be too mean to the guy. Still making Fenton scowl though, “why am I not surprised, it’s not like I was ever close with any of you shitheads”. James wanders away very quickly at that, and at Phantom growling a little. Kwan scratching his head, “sorry about that, Dale’s not the best at brain to mouth censoring”. Dale blinking and still looking a little far off but nodding, “ah, yeah no I’m not. Eh? At least dogs don’t care about that”.

Phantom brightening up immediately, “oh yeah! Cujo can be a handful but he’s a good boy”.

Dale blinks again, “I don’t think I could handle a ghost dog, all dogs are great dogs though”.

See that? Danny could agree with. Cujo might cause a lot of damage and might drag him around by his ankles but he was still just the best. And getting to have interactions with someone or something that had no expectations of him and couldn’t be disappointed by him was nice. All the pup wanted was a playmate, belly rubs, and to guard his master; nothing more nothing less. Cujo didn’t care if Danny was a king or if he was on bad terms with his biological makers or if he was a little out of touch with other beings or if he technically was an entity that should be impossible to exist in the first place. Dogs were nice like that, unlike people. So both Danny’s nod.

Then, as if summoned by the dog that ‘ruined’ her life, Val shows up. The good ol’ Red Huntress. At least they got along somewhat these days, her and Phantom at least.

Her voice is harsh, “what the fuck”. Ah so she spotted Phantom. This was gonna be fun and possibly annoying or stupid or a lot of things. She stomps over, glaring bloody murder at Phantom who whistles and glances around like an innocent little angel. Man Danny loved to rile her up sometimes, and she couldn’t even shoot him this time! She grabs Fenton’s baggy sleeve roughly and physically drags him off. Leaving a blinking Phantom, “well at least this time it’s him being pestered and not the ghost with the most”. Kwan laughs.

Fenton blinks at Val, “sup, Val. Why are you dragging me around?”. As if he doesn’t know exactly why. Phantom was here and she wanted to know why, the Red Huntress did talk to Fenton him sometimes, since he made ghost shit and everything. Plus the ‘Fenton’ knowledge he had from Jack and Maddie. Danny’s ninety percent sure she suspects him of knowing exactly who was under the helmet, She drags him all the way over to the food tables before responding to him, “I’ve been here all of ten minutes and all I am hearing about, besides people telling me what their jobs are now and Ali trying to get me to join her pyramid scheme, is that you are apparently dating Phantom. What the actual fresh fuck, Danny”.

Fenton huffs, “let me have my love life, gosh”, smirking, “what? Do you have a problem with gay couples?”; that’s not the issue and he knows it and she knows that he knows it.

She swats him over the head immediately, “he’s a ghost you dumbass”, huffing, “I know you tend to side with ghosts but dating Phantom? Really?”, rubbing her temples, “like yes, if you’re going to have a thing for the dead then Phantom’s acceptable but what are you two doing?”.

Fenton smirks, “what we’re doing is being little shits and cuddle buddies”.

“You know what I mean, you shit”.

Fenton chuckles, “and I couldn’t make this anymore clear, I could described what Phantom’s mouth tastes like if you’d like?”; of course Danny could actually have Fenton do that since Danny knew what his own mouth tasted like.

Val glares, crosses her arms, and looks from Fenton to Phantom, from one Danny to the other… then she does it again. There it was, the recognition. “What the?”.

Lily walks over to grab some food, “oh yeah let me guess, noticed the similarities? Apparently they’re soul mates”, eyeing Fenton, “ghosts am I right?”. Danny can tell instantly that Val doesn’t buy that shit, like at all. Figures, she was a ghost hunter after all… and she knew about Vlad’s sorry half-dead ass. AND she’s seen Elle’s human half which was basically just a female version of Fenton him.

Fenton smirks at Lily, “they’re weird, but exactly my kind of weird”, and fucking winks at her. Lily shaking her head and heading back over to a bunch of the other ex-cheerleader girls.

Val looks to Fenton slowly, “Danny? Are you? Are you him?”.

Fenton finger guns, “with him you mean, ha!”, then dropping his hands and shrugging, “it shouldn’t have taken you this long, Red. Like my excuse? All the reactions have been to die for”. She smacks him over the head again, expected, she always did love to rough up his sorry ass. “You know Phantom’s not gonna like if you bruise me up too much”.

“I hate you”.

“No you don’t”.

“Fuck you”.

“You wish you could”.

She throws her hands up dramatically, “I can’t with you! Oh my Zone!”, dropping her hands and glaring at Fenton, “you could have just fucking told me, you know”.

Fenton shrugging, stealing up a little rainbow rice crispy square, “eh, it was better off I didn’t. I’m a lot to get involved in and it’s better that people just don’t”, pointing the square at her before taking a bite, “tough shit or not you still die if someone lops your head off”. Sometimes he did want to try and stop her from the whole huntress thing but who was he to tell someone to not do stupid dumb reckless shit? Plus all the ghosts actually liked her, and that shit counted for a lot.

She frowns at him, “that’s a bit depressing you know? Is that why you’re such a loner?”, shaking her head and glancing at a wall, “I guess I’m not really one to talk though, huh?”.

“No shit, Sherlock. We’re both pretty irredeemably fucked, I just have less of a choice about it”.

“You have a choice“.

“Look me in my half dead god king face and say that again”.

She flinches at that, fucking good, he didn’t have a whole lot of tolerance for people telling him he could just walk away. As if everything wouldn’t go to utter shit without his asses involvement. As if people wouldn’t die or wind up experimented on. As if his realm could function and maintain itself without its king. As if there was anything better for him to do other than rot in bed. As if this wasn’t all he was goddamn good for and all he knew how to do anymore. Everything else is gone and there ain’t no getting it back. He’s fucked. Absolutely, completely, and utterly, fucked. And saying otherwise was like pissing on all his fucking suffering and sacrifices. He was needed as Phantom, as a sovereign and protector. He was needed as Fenton, as the interspecies liaison and defender. And that was all he was needed as. Never anything more and never anything less. It wasn’t his choice to make anymore, even if it’s a choice he would make over and over again if it was up to him. Nothing was changing that till either every part of him collapsed or the universe did.

Fenton huffs, “come on, let’s mingle instead of wallowing in our mildly crappy existences”.

She stands firm, making him eye her, “you do like it though, right? I do”.

Even if he didn’t, even if he hated every second of it, he’d still say yes just so she wouldn’t pity him or try to carry more of the load on her very mortal shoulders. He did enjoy it though, so there’s that, meaning it’s not a lie when Fenton says, “duh. I’m a combative mother fucker, even if somehow no one noticed that trait in Fenton”. This time she lets him drag her off with him.

Phantom giving both of them smiles, “have fun catching up, babe?”. Fenton snickering, “of course babe”. Val glares murderously at both hims but doesn’t call him out on his bullshit.

Silver waving at Val, basically killing the conversation Silver’d been having with his duplicate about their greenhouses poppy flowers. It’s was weird someone being so interested in just… growing a bunch of poppy’s. Like fuck, way to show you have a real hunky-dory life. They actually teared up a little at successfully growing an orange one… Sliver speaking up, “you still stuck in Amity?”.

Val nodding easily, “yeah, what can I say, I like the stupid town. I doubt I’ll ever leave, it’s got me for life”.

Yeah… she was probably right about that. She was married to the game less than him but still was all the same. Her it was more that she didn’t want to stop and felt responsible, rather than genuinely not being able to stop.

Phantom putting his hands behind his head, “yeah, her and her dad run a pretty solid tech shop these days, I get my thermoses fixed there since the Fenton’s are still crazy”. Fenton snorting, “tell me about it”. Did Danny actually need to be doing that? Obviously not. But it was a chance to have Phantom talk with Red outside of combat, and to familiarise her with thermoses in case the worst happened.

After all, losing all his human connections is what made Dan and that’s exactly the way things were now. It was bound to happen if he ever lost his protective drive. Protection and combat are his only drives, one without the other is a problem for his mind. So he’d keep his one connection with Val, for as little as that might be worth in the end, and he’ll keep his protective streak going till it burns him to ash.

Val rolls her eyes at the two hims, “helping the town, even that little bit, is worth it”.

“I hear ya, I hear ya”.

“Hey Fenton! Does Jazz still live in Amity?!”.

Fenton blinks, leaning away from his little group going on and stares at Dash, “fucking no?! Why would she?! She literally left the day she turned eighteen how did you not notice that?!?”, scowling, “and no! I’m not calling her for you! We barely talk anymore anyways!”. Which kinda sucked but she got to live her normal human life that she very much enjoyed.

Dash blinks, “damn!”. Ugh.

Silver blinking at Fenton, “oh? It’s ’cause of the Fenton’s isn’t it?”.

Phantom sighs, rubbing his temples, “I took her away personally. The Fenton’s, aware that Danny wasn’t going to, and in their eyes shouldn’t, take over FentonWorks, burned her scholarships and tried to stop her from leaving. I got her out and a few towns over, saw her off and all that”.

Fenton nodding, “which I was very relieved over, that had been Hell a little bit-”. Silver cringes. “-she’s doing well for herself though, has her own therapist practice and all that. Doesn’t want anything to do with Maddie or Jack, same as me”, shrugging, “she also wants nothing to do with ghosts, so I’m kinda an at arms length sibling if you will”.

“Since you’re dating a ghosts and illegally selling ghost tech? Yeah I can get that”.

Fenton nodding, “ditto. And if she did show up back here I’d slap some sense into her and tell her to get lost before she regrets it”; ahh getting maybe a little bit too real there but oh well. Jazz was a Fenton, which meant that Amity was a place she had to stay the hell away from; Jack and Maddie she had to stay the hell away from. Hopefully she never forgets that.

Then Star pops back in, “alright that’s everyone who’s coming!”. Getting a bunch of raised glasses and food stuff in return. A dark-skinned man with dreads coming in behind her, or… rolling in behind her.

That was…

Tucker was in a wheelchair?!?! What happened! Half the damn point was those two not getting fucking hurt! Was there no point? Had it been a hopeless endeavour?

It takes a bit to avoid dissolving Phantom. As it is his ghost selves eyes flare up a little and his ecto-field wiggles concerningly. Val kicks Phantom in the boot, to stabilise him maybe? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. He needs to know what happened, how it happened, could he have done something different? Fenton absently muttering, “I’m going to go say hi”. Val giving him a bit of a supportive back pat that he barely notices, she physically blocks Phantom him from following with a whispered, “Tucker’s Danny Fenton’s old friend, not Phantom’s stay put you”.

Sliver nodding, “I guess it’s no surprise you’re an over protective boyfriend”.

Fenton blinking down at Tucker, “Tuck”. And the guy raises an eyebrow, “been a while since I’ve been called that”; making Fenton, and Phantom, wince. Star walks away quickly, easily picking up on the awkward and probably way to private atmosphere.

Fenton blinks again, “you’re in a wheelchair”.

“Yeah I noticed”, Tucker sighing when Danny doesn’t really have a response to that that wasn’t horrifically insensitive. Tucker putting his hands on his lap, “Danny, you kinda lost the right to ask a while ago, but since you’re concerned enough to talk to me properly for the first time in nearly fourteen years, it’s genetic. I have a type of muscular dystrophy. Now can I get past and grab some food or?”.

Again, both Danny’s wince, him realising that the Fenton one was practically blocking Tucker from getting his… wheelchair past. Fenton stepping to the side with a neck rub, “sorry about that”.

“Whatever, man”.

Danny just kind of stares as the man goes, it hurt a little. The dismissal. But he expected it and it was okay. At least… at least it was nothing he could have done anything about. If anything this means that Danny was right to push him away. Being involved with ghosts would have gotten him killed probably. But… getting diagnosed and eventually having to use mobility aids had probably been crushing to him… and Danny hadn’t been there to support him. Any ounce of support he tried to give now would just seem hollow and like pity. Former friend was the right label for them and he should just let the man go, shouldn’t follow after.

He does of course. Fenton him does. Because the wheelchair and subsequent mild protective freakout has thrown him off kilter. He can tell the man’s glaring at the food table, Fenton him can see it in the reflection of some of the glasses. “Danny I’m really not interested in ‘catching up’ with you”.

Fenton stares a little before Danny can remember himself and that humans find staring creepy. Shaking his head, “right yeah, that makes sense”. Maybe he’d have better luck and less hostility with Phantom him? “Can I ask what you do at least? Then I’ll get out of your hair. You don’t have to ask me shit, or you can, it’s whatever”.

Tucker actually smacks a fist on the table, “I know the only damn reason you’re even trying is because I’m disabled now, so fuck off”.

Shit. Okay. That wasn’t how he was trying to be interpreted. “Tuck-”.

“Don’t”.

Fenton snarls, properly snarling, startling his former friend, “just because we stopped being friends doesn’t mean I stopped giving a damn. But fine, fuck it, whatever”, and basically stomps off. He doesn’t turn around when Tucker mutters a possibly regretful, “shit”. If the man wants to be an ass then fine, let him be an ass by himself. It’s better Danny doesn’t care anyways, it’s better they end on bad terms. Fuck it and fuck him.

Val’s kicking Phantom him again, since Phantom had snarled too. Shit whatever. Fuck it if he’s freaking anyone out, they’re all assholes anyways. Val eyeing the ticked of Fenton, “your mood is rubbing off on someone”.

“I’m fully fucking aware, Val”.

She smacks him over the head, “well pull your shit together, you can’t expect him to want to be friendly with you after all this time”.

“Yeah well I didn’t expect to basically get told to go fuck myself either, jackass”.

Both Val and Silver frowning, Silver shaking their head, “okay yeah that’s a little rude, but he might be going through some stuff, you don’t know. You staring at the chair probably didn’t help”.

“My mind goes to worst case scenarios so excuse me if the thought of someone I used to be extremely close with getting into some kind of horrible accident was upsetting”.

Phantom huffing and crossing his arms, “being dead or surrounded by the dead tends to do that”. Now he wishes Tucker hadn’t shown up at all. He’s going to be pissed off about this for days, fucking asshole.

Val sighs, “okay you’re not wrong on that, I thought the same. At least I didn’t freaking ask though, Danny. I thought you were just going to say hi, not be an insensitive jerk”.

Fenton scowls at her, sticking his arms out, “I didn’t fucking ask, he just assumed I wanted to, which yeah was right”, and grumbles a little incoherently before taking some breaths to avoid snarling at anyone else especially not the only human connection he still had. Ugh.

Val shakes her head at him, “okay I guess you can get to be annoyed, not mad, annoyed. Star’s civil with me even though we had our falling out”, crossing her arms, “Paulina not so much”.

Fenton grumbling, “if Sam had shown up I’d expect her to slap me at this point. Fucking zone”.

Star hums, having apparently made her way over after overhearing her name, “yeah she replied in the discord chat that she wouldn’t deign to show up to rejoin a shitty town full of people that were morally horrific”.

“Ancients that’s messed up, what the Zone Sam”. Fenton blinks and shakes his head, what the hell happened with her? He doesn’t want to know. Was she always that egocentric and holier than thou? If so it was probably better for everyone she had no say in him and what he does. Did childhood him just suck at picking friends? “Wait. There’s a discord?”.

Star puts a hand on her hip and cocks an eyebrow, “yup. All anyone could find on you was an address so we couldn’t exactly give you a code in”.

Val shaking her head and forcing a little laugh, eyeing Fenton, “if I had known no one had your number I would have sent it. I figured you just had no interest in messaging anyone, like me”, she waves a hand dismissively, “I confirmed I was showing up and dipped”.

Fucking great. Love it.

Danny notices Tucker pushing himself over to talk to Jesse. Danny chooses to ignore that. If he sends Phantom over he might just accidentally start a brawl and that was a very bad idea.

Star shakes her head, “would it kill either of you to be a bit more sociable?”.

Fenton immediately responding with, “yes”. Phantom with, “already did”. And Val with, “probably”. Making Star sigh and Silver laugh; Silver walking off right after, Danny pretending not to notice them point aggressively at Tucker. Ugh.

“Phantom! Come meet my husband! He’s heard stories about you and got curious!”. Phantom glancing to the side at Ashely then to Fenton with a quirked eyebrow.

Fenton waving him off, “go, I’ll be fine, you stupid celebrity”. Danny makes a point to have Phantom give Fenton a quick peck on the cheek, making Fenton blush a little, before running off. Val’s barely restrained look of horror is so worth it and definitely improves his mood.

Star shakes her head, “well at least it looks like you’re in a better mood now, this is supposed to be fun”.

“Then why are all the drinks liquor free?”.

“Because Todd has a liquor problem and I know you know it”.

Okay yeah that wasn’t wrong. All the local bartenders knew him by first and last name, zone some knew the middle one too. Sure they also knew Danny by first and both lasts but that was for an entirely different reason… he did also drink though so like it was a toss up. Then she glances to the side, winces slightly, and jambs a thumb over her shoulder, “anyway’s I’m going to check on everyone else. See if more people are better off not being in the same room”. Ouch. True but she didn’t need to say it. Star pointing at Val, “you’re coming whether you like it or not, you can talk to Danny whenever you want”. Val grumbles but doesn’t put up a fight.

Fenton shaking his head and laughing a little to himself, now what should he do? He frankly didn’t feel like dealing with anyone now, especially not all these chuckle fucks. He’s half tempted to just wander into the bathroom and stare at the mirror for twenty minutes self actualising or whatever. Grimacing, yeah he’s gonna do that, plus all this ecto free food was grating on his stomachs nerves.

He could eat normal foods, it’s just the ecto made it taste better and easier on his system to digest. Didn’t help that he grew up eating contaminated shit, thanks Maddie and Jack, and basically only ate contaminated shit after the whole half dying thing; it was an easy thing to do in Amity after all since everything was contaminated. But this was Elmerton and the food was definitely from outside the city, probably to specifically ensure it was ecto free. Yuck.

So Fenton meanders his way over to the gym bathroom/locker room, stuffing a hand in his pocket as he goes. Him popping into the sink and mirror area, kicking the door closed-ish and pulling out an ectoplasm vial at the same time, tossing it back without much hesitation. He didn’t hear anyone else in here and plus he also didn’t super care, which fine was partly because his attention was split into two different places and almost no one would really genuinely question him outside of Val obviously.

Granted Val would know exactly what he was doing and why.

“Did you seriously think I’d been hurt bad?”.

“Fuck!”, Fenton jumps, tossing the vial in the air, (Phantom jerking in his conversation about welding of all things) at the frankly very unexpected sound of Tucker’s voice. It took some doing to actually startle him, but guesses he was in his own head enough that someone was able to pull it off. Didn’t help that he just came from a room full of people whose scents he doesn’t recognise anymore. It bothered him a little. Fenton turning away from the mirror and looking down at Tucker, “uh?”. And then the fucking ecto vial clinks on to the ground and rolls across it in that loud way glass tends to do. Well fuck him, this shit is entirely his fault right oh wow this is instantly awkward.

Tucker stares down at the vial on the ground before looking back up at Fenton, “new question, what was that”.

See that did not sound like a question. Okay, self, shit, what to say? If this was anyone else, other than Val, he’d just say it was a weird Amity energy drink and he was tired and to piss off. Zone he’s tempted to say that crap anyways, but Tucker had sounded… apologetic, even if he’d startled Danny. He can’t not lie though. Well… technically, if he mentally twisted things around enough, calling ecto an addiction for him wasn’t wrong per say. He legit couldn’t exist without ecto, his system was dependent on it, so like, he could go with that? And now Tucker’s glaring at him like he’s thinking about ramming into Danny. Fenton blinking before shrugging awkwardly, “addiction’s compulsory, or whatever. And yes?”. Crap this was a really stupid plan of action. Way more stupid than dating himself, Ancients.

Tucker blinks, “addiction?”, shaking his head, “I don’t even care about the first question now”, frowning, “well I do, you jerk, but less”.

That’s fair, Danny thinks. Fenton shrugs, “that accident fucked me up, okay? Kinda needed ectoplasm ever since. Which sure, wasn’t exactly something I wanted to share with anyone. And maybe I didn’t deal with that well, but I think I dealt with that right. And I guess that’s all that matters”. Okay cool, so this is how he’s going to explain ditching them as friends, great. Fuck Danny’s so goddamn stupid. ‘Addiction’ was not on his bingo card of how to explain how weird he was to people… he really should update that stupid card.

Tucker’s glaring again like Danny’s done something wrong, except Danny doesn’t know why Fenton him is getting glared at this time. “Are you lying to me?”.

Fenton glaring back before sticking out his tongue, which was coated in faintly glowing green of course. Pulling his tongue back in, “do you know anything else that looks like that besides ecto? ‘Cause I sure don’t”; that had a bit more bite than he meant it to but oh well, he’s still kinda ticked off with this man so…

“And it doesn’t get you high?”.

Okay see now Danny’s getting actually ticked again. Fucking damn it. “No. Now if you’re going to just ride my ass then let me out so I can go somewhere that isn’t here”.

Tucker doesn’t move, in fact he locks his damn wheels, “no. Because that last conversation made me feel like an asshole and I refuse to feel like an asshole over you deciding to isolate yourself”, gesturing at the vial that’s still on the ground, “especially if all of it was over some stupid ectoplasm issue, you jack ass”.

“So what I’m hearing is you’re just being selfish”.

“So what if I am, I think I’ve earned that from you”.

Danny makes Fenton him relax over that, because if anything letting people take their issues out on him was something he was good for. “Ugh I guess that’s okay then”.

Now Tucker’s glaring again, “what”.

For fucks sake. “Dude, you’ve known me for years, since when did I ever put myself first? If you want to use me as a punching bag to unload your issues on, go right ahead”, snorting, “cause yeah, I’m well fucking aware it’s been earned. If you were Dash I’d tell you to piss off again”.

Tucker sticks his arms out, basically smacking the door, “so you’ll tell me to ‘piss off’ over not wanting to talk to you but won’t over me wanting to berate you?! Seriously?!”.

“Yes”. Fuck that was weird wasn’t it? Do normal human people do that? Or was he coming off as a massive hypocrite? Or as a masochist maybe?

Tucker pinches the bridge of his nose, still doesn’t unlock his chair though, “damn it, you have a bunch of mental issues now, don’t you”.

“Rude”.

“Yeah well now I just feel like more of an asshole, so there”.

They stare at each other for a beat, Danny’s trying really hard to mostly ignore Phantom having to play nice with Dale and his loose tongue again, apparently the guy really liked bluey. Fuck when was the last time Danny got really genuinely into any tv show? Had he even watched one since he dropped out? Crap probably not. If he had down time he was usually laying on the floor staring at the ceiling with a music playlist running, or having a quick drink with Val, or trying to study ghost history, or replaying an old video game he’s beaten hundreds of times just to feel young and carefree again.

Wow that had to be unhealthy. Not that he really cared about that. Blinking at Tucker, “so… what do you do for work”.

“I’m not telling you”.

“Fuck you too then I guess”.

Tucker puts his face in a hand and sighs very deeply with a muttered, “I was right, I really should not have come”, before lifting his head up and glaring up at Danny with goddamn pity in his eyes, “look, okay, I am sorry about brushing you off if you were genuinely worried about me having been badly injured and I guess I’m sorry you have this addiction issue, but you brought it on yourself. Me and Sam could have helped, you ass”.

“Tuck-”, crap he’s back to calling him ‘Tuck’ goddamn it, “-my head was a fucking mess after that shit, I have literally no memory from the three months after that crap. Just a boat load of pain cutting straight to sitting up in bed violently vomiting up ectoplasm. Excuse me for making some jack ass choices but again, I stand by those choices”, running a hand through his hair and leaning his ass back against the sink, “I thought that shit was gonna end with me dead, sooner rather than later, and I didn’t want to take you guys down with me. So I had to choose between the life I had with you guys and the moral thing to do. Kinda an obvious choice there, to me”. Honestly? Why was he explaining this shit now? Was it because his life was somehow less chaotic now? Or because he was an adult ghost and fully grown into what and who he was? Loneliness perhaps? Or did he just not want Tucker to actually hate him?

Tucker stares at him before wheezing, “Christ I wish you had just told at least me that”, massaging his temples and using the chairs arms to rest his elbows on, “if I remember right, which I might not, you basically didn’t talk and just stared blankly, it was creepy but your parents assured everyone you wouldn’t have any ‘long term’ issues. That you were just recovering and in shock. Not that dumbass fourteen year olds knew shit about shock-”.

Seriously? Seriously! What the Hell! Fenton blurting out, “what the zone is wrong with them! in what world would getting electrocuted by literally billions of volts not have a lasting effect?!”.

“-me and Sam basically carried you everywhere and babied you and then you suddenly flipped on us and avoided us like the plagu- wait what”.

Tucker looks horrified, crap that was not Danny’s goal. Oh well, he’s in it now. Fenton blinking, “Jack and Maddie sucking is what”.

“Dude”.

Fenton swallowing and rubbing his neck, “you guys were taking care of me?”. Okay so maybe Danny had been more of a jerk to them than he realised but still. Tucker glares so Danny bites the bullet and has Fenton respond properly, Tucker was an adult now not some teen who’d do stupid shit like follow Danny Phantom’s sorry ass into combat, “it was something like four billion volts, it was a miracle I wasn’t instantly vaporised into ash. As it was apparently Jazz came home to them attempting to bury what they thought was my dead body in the back yard, apparently I woke up during the argument and crawled out and ran into trees for three days”.

“They told us you were missing because you were in another cities hospital! They tried to bury you?!?”. Somehow Jack and Maddie just keep getting worse. Tucker wheezes again, “well regardless of you becoming an asshole, I’m glad you didn’t die, holy shit”, staring at Danny, “is that why you were so weird about my wheelchair? You thought something like that had happened to me?”. He takes Fenton’s wince as a yes. “Ugh fine you’re forgiven for that then, I can’t hold what’s probably severe trauma and ptsd against someone”, pointing at Danny, “you were still a jerk then and now though. And you basically shoving me away was awful and basically wrecked me mentally for a long time”.

Yeah Danny knew neither Sam nor Tucker took him pushing them away well, but being upset or depressed or confused or worried was better than getting caught in an undead fist fight or losing a limb or getting contaminated by him which he had thought back then would have been extremely dangerous. “I thought it was for the best, okay? And I didn’t mean to hurt you when I was basically hurting myself”.

“How the hell was push me away from my best friend ‘for the best’?!?”.

“Because I was all fucked up and I didn’t want my shit fucking you up”. That was part of it, at first anyways. Then it quickly became more of him having to be the hero and get into fights and not wanting anyone getting caught in the crossfires and waiting them to keep the ability to live normal fucking lives unlike him.

Tucker stares at him like he actually somehow gets it, huh, Danny didn’t see that one coming. “So you thought you’d get us sick? Or something? Just by being around us? Okay I know you’ve always been a bit of a dumbass but goddamn it, Danny”.

“I don’t know what the hell is happening in there but I’m taking a piss in the ladies room! what in the!”.

Both Fenton and Tuck (and Phantom for that matter) jerk a little from whoever shouted from outside the bathroom/locker room. Fenton cringing his face up, “right, this is a public space”.

Tucker sighing, “maybe not the best place for this crap conversation”, unlocking his wheels and roll backwards out of the little sink and mirror area doorway, “I’m still mad at you though”.

“That’s fair. I’m not looking to rekindle friendship or whatever”. Danny uses the man’s distraction to have Fenton telekinetically move the vial back into his hand and pocket.

“Seriously. Jerk”.

Fenton shrugs as he moves out of the little doorway, “I only really hang out with ghosts now and I actually am unsafe to be around too much if whoever doesn’t have a tolerance or protective gear, the ecto-contamination and shit”.

“That’s… pretty shitty actually”.

Fenton giving back a snide, “gee thanks”.

“You still shouldn’t have pushed us away. But I guess you still want to do that, so you do you I guess. Its not like I actually know you, or you me, anymore”.

“Yup”. Tucker bashes him in the back of the legs with the chair for that, “hey!”. Danny making Fenton sigh at the glare… and at Dash attempting to drill Phantom about football like that mattered anymore. Phantom couldn’t be sighing at Dash after all, images to maintain and all. “Look, Tucker, you got pissy over me staring at your wheelchair, that tells me your life’s doing pretty alright actually. If I was in a wheelchair and someone was staring I’d assume they were trying figure out how to use it to kill me. I sell weapons illegally and am dating a death god king, I’m not really shit you wanna be involved in”.

“What about Valerie?”, Tucker making a bit of a face, “that soul mate ghost thing I’ve been hearing is real?”.

Danny is absolutely about to throw Val under the bus, servers her right for still hanging around his half dead ass. “She… is a coworker let’s say, a not legal one”, not technically a lie, the Red Huntress wasn’t legally allowed to do what she did, it was just that no one could actually stop her. Thank fuck for that. Fenton huffing, “and we mostly only talk over drinks or if we run into each other during ghost attacks”. Then smirking, “and oh yeah me and Phantom are fucking match made in hell”. His own personal hell of protective desire and pain.

“You know what, you’re right. You’re an asshole, a criminal, and a necrophiliac; I’m out. I almost want to try but you stopped being worth it years ago. Still glad you’re not dead though”.

On one hand Danny wants to smack the guy, on the other hand Danny’s getting exactly what he wanted; and ain’t that just a terrible thing?

“How’d you find out you needed ectoplasm?”.

Oh Ancients, well… nothing was weirder than the truth with that one and fuck it at this point. “First time I ran into a whisp ghost I, kinda, couldn’t, exactly, stop myself from eating it”.

“You… ate a ghost?”.

“It was a really bad day and I’d rather you keep that in confidence”. Man he legit wants to get out of this damn bathroom/locker room now. Ugh. He starts walking to the door.

Tucker makes a gagging sound, muttering, “no one would even believe me anyway. I’m starting to think he did actually do me a favour as kids and that kinda pisses me off a little. I’ve spent too long being mad at that shit ass for me to feel good about that shit”.

Danny making Fenton pause at the door, one hand on it, “dude, I have freaky good hearing, go see your therapist and I hope you have one. You’re not the lost cause in this bathroom”, and then pushes his way out, leaving his old friend and the friendship more firmly behind.

He absolutely has Phantom ‘rescue’ Fenton immediately, throwing an arm around Fenton’s neck and ruffling his hair with the other hand, “I have escaped Dash and him ‘regaling me’ with his glory days”.

Danny makes Fenton sigh to seem tired, “that’s…”, brightening up, “thats good. He really did peek in Highschool, just like he said he would”. A self fulfilling prophecy, Danny pretty much did the exact same. The biggest jock and the biggest loser both fucking themselves up in the end; how ironic.

Danny makes Fenton sigh to seem tired, “that’s…”, brightening up, “that’s good. He really did peek in Highschool, just like he said he would”. A self fulfilling prophecy, Danny pretty much did the exact same. The biggest jock and the biggest loser both fucking themselves up in the end.

Then Val goes and actually rescues his ass, stomping over, “let’s bounce. I don’t want to be here or around these people anymore, and I want to get shitfaced until I start putting holes in walls or pass out on your crappy apartment floor”.

Fenton quirks an eyebrow, “you have literally never been over? How do you know it’s shitty?”.

“Because it’s your apartment”.

“Fuck you”.

Phantom quirking an eyebrow at her and tilting his head, “and who pissed you off?”.

Val grimaces, “Paulina, I swear she needs to get stabbed a couple times”.

Phantom laughing while Fenton gestures at Val with both of his hands, “no. Bad. If you start stabbing little miss pretty puddle I’ll get stuck having to clean up the blood before the cops show up-”. He can feel Tucker’s concerned eyes on him as the man wheels out of the bathroom/locker room. “-and I really don’t feel like being on crime scene clean up duty”.

Phantom perking up, “eh I could just phase it through the ground”.

“Don’t encourage her murderous desire”.

Val grins, though clearly still thinking this is super weird, “no, let him speak, he makes good points”.

“His only point is letting you make a point with a knife point”. She scowls at Fenton’s joke immediately, nice, at least that makes him feel legitimately a bit better. Either way Danny is content to leave this place before shit goes anymore south, and he has frankly had enough of humans and their weirdly boring plain interests. Looking at the crowd, it actually looked like some others had left. Todd, no surprise there. Charlie that he doesn’t think he ever even talked to as Fenton, he’s not sure if they talked in high school either though. Two of the jocks also looked to have bounced, Dash was still her of course and Scott didn’t look like he actually wanted to be talking to him. Ha. Brittany doesn’t look to be around either, meaning Sarah’s probably gone too if she was ever even here.

And then.

Of fucking course.

His ghost sense goes off.

Val’s reaction is instant, her folding out a blaster, the second she notices both Danny’s straightening up, stiff, and glancing around. Danny making both hims relax with annoyed sighs when he realizes who it is or one of the whos whatever. Phantom waving Val off, “it’s an eyeball, don’t”. The woman throws her hands up a bit, clearly annoyed that it was one of the ghosts that Danny was pretty strict on her not fighting.

Danny making Fenton scowl deeply, “oh fucking goddamn it, not those assholes”. Phantom rolling his green eyes fondly before stepping forward some and cupping his hands around his mouth, Danny should at least warn these people, “hey! Non-hostile incoming! They’re probably just showing to annoy me!”.

The reactions is immediate. Guess spending multiple teenage years in a town constantly plagued by ghost attacks tends to stick with you. Everyone pulling away from the walls, and anything box-shaped, and sticking to groups while glancing around in mild panic. The Observant comes up through the floor, jerk, in all their eye-ball shaped ugly cloak wearing green-skinned annoyance. “Phantom-”. Oh Danny can tell they’re here to lecture him or chastise him or something equally annoying and pointless. Nope. He’s not putting up with this.

Fenton smacking Phantom, “make me a suction dart gun construct”. Danny having Phantom do that without hesitation, even if it was a bit harder to make ecto-energy constructs outside of Amity or the Ghost Zone. Phantom passing over the sorta weapon, it has a pump action shotgun reload for comedic effect. Fenton pumping it immediately and shooting the Observant in the head/eye, “not today, eyeball asshole”.

“Phantom-”.

Oh how chastising, Fenton shots him again, “no”. The suction cups are actually sticking, awesome. But he’s got no interest in actually letting the eyeball actually say anything, so Fenton stalks over, putting a finger in the ghosts face, “fuck off, ‘Phantom’ isn’t your goddamn servant”. The Observant doesn’t look remotely chastised which frankly Danny’s a little goddamn ticked off about. These guys were constantly riding his ass and they act like they had some sort of high ground on him which they did not. So Danny has Fenton kick the ghost in the chest and basically jump on their chest, pointing the ‘gun’ in its eyeball/face and shooting it enough to cover its whole iris; its point blank enough to actually injury the ghost. The Observants were always more powerful as a mass than alone.

“Are you done?!”.

Fenton smirking, “no”, and smacking the ghost on the top of their head with the butt of the ‘gun’. Lowing the ‘weapon’ some, sighing tiredly, “now if this isn’t something actually important, I’m going to rip off all of your limbs”. And Danny means that, he will, he’s had it up to here with these guys.

The Observant, seeming to get this, just fucking disappears with a, “you need to be bound”; like he wasn’t aware they hated how much power he had.

“Fuck you. You exist in my favour”, Fenton hurling the ‘gun’ construct at the ground, it bouncing up a bit before dissolving into goo. Stupid jackasses.

“Geez Fenton where was that in high school, what the hell!”.

Both Danny’s jerking, Fenton looking back to Steven, “do you know how many ghosts annoy me because of that asshole?”, gesturing a thumb at Phantom who glances around innocently. Fenton huffing, “and yeah maybe I enjoy annoying the ones that annoy him, sue me”.

What makes it so clear that basically all these people have nothing to do with Amity any more is how all of them look on edge, nervous, unsettled, scared. They don’t ‘bounce back’ instantly and more than a couple eye Phantom nervously like they had just now remembered how arguably dangerous he could be. That Phantom was a ghost and could very well kill everyone in this room without much effort. As if Danny ever would do such a thing, he was a protector and if they wanted to forget that then screw them. Amity always was the weird place where humans and ghosts could actually remotely get along, even that was a crap shoot, humans would always be unsettled by ghosts and trying for genuine coexistence was fucking pointless. These people simply being away from ghosts for a few years and yet acting put off by one that was less human simply showing up was almost insulting to all his effort. Whatever, what did he care if most of humanity was too damn weak to handle not being the top of the food chain. Making Fenton scoff at everyone’s stares, “guess I should get gone, huh?”, and nods his head at Phantom.

Phantom stretching out and floating up to sort of lay in the air on his back, finger gunning at Val, “coming?”, as he moves to hover around Fenton’s head, ruffling Fenton’s hair fondly.

Jason blinking, “you know, I almost felt like I missed Highschool, thanks for reminding me why I absolutely do not”, and wheezes. While Star waves the two Danny’s off, “yeah should have guessed a ghost that wasn’t invited might follow Phantom”.

Phantom chuckling, “what can I say, I’m very attractive”. Making Fenton snort and blush, “shut up, you stupid ghost”. And making Phantom snicker meanly at Fenton.

Kwan shouting, “you better have a cute wedding!”.

Val rolling her eyes at the pair, pocketing her gun, and walking towards them while waving a hand over her shoulder, “bye. This was nice though”, muttering to herself barely loud enough for even Danny to hear, “regardless of certain people”.

Fenton rolling his eyes and waving at everyone, “I’d say you can easily visit me but I made myself hard to find for a damn reason and I vaguely hate most of your guts, peace bitches”. Phantom facepalming, watching Val and Fenton walk towards the door for a beat before looking to the people, him still floating up in the air, “everyone’s free to give me a visit of course, even though the fact that no one had before makes it kinda clear no one will, no hard feelings about that by the by. Besides, when you die we’ll met again”.

Star sighs at him, “that’s needlessly ominous, Phantom”. Phantom shrugging before floating off, “I’m dead, I don’t know what you expect. I can tell that none of you are going to die soon, so there’s that”, and giving them a thumbs up, absolutely ignoring how that doesn’t seem to actually make anyone feel better. It’s not Danny’s problem if ‘normal’ people aren’t comforted with ominous messages about the not so untimely demise, he thinks it would be a good thing knowing you’re not gonna die soon. Like really. He personally would have loved a heads up that he was gonna half die when that shit happened, a little count down or something would have been nice. A little count down to obliterating everything he used to be and wanted to be.

You know.

For the dramatics.

Danny absorbs his duplicate as soon as he’s outside of easy viewing range of the building, Val quirking an eyebrow at him, “I’m guessing you didn’t drive here?”.

“No? Why would I do that? And neither did you”.

She snorts at him, summoning out her board, “well hop on, I’m still down for drinks so”.

Danny eyes the board, “naw I probably should pass”. Bonding wasn’t really a good idea anyways.

She rolls her eyes, “come on, don’t be a stranger”.

“Being a stranger is kinda the point”. He has every intention of just going invisible and flying off, but she grabs his arm and yanks him onto the board before he can follow through on that thought, her muttering about him being a dumbass the whole time. Danny eyeing her, hands in his pockets and just sitting on the board, stupid stubborn ghost hunters.

Though… looking down, it was kinda nice to watch the city sights this leisurely. It’s filled with spots of damage and things being repaired even here in Elmerton still. It was impossible for everything to stay contained in one simple city after all, sometimes Danny debating expanding is human lair a bit more, just to keep more of an eye on more of it. Perhaps that was a speck of greed or just his overprotective nature.

Really it wouldn’t take much, honestly he had the power and ability to take over the entire planet if he so chose. And really, ghosts did crop up everywhere, and further ecto-contaminated cities and towns would just make more places possible to be common ground of sorts.

It wasn’t a bad idea…

Just not a good or human one either. He had to play human games to thrive and be accepted in the human world, even if those games were sometimes stupid and annoying and isolating. Hmmm… maybe he should get drinks with Val, she was at least slightly better with normal human things than him.

Looking down, there’s some patches of green growing in ash. Life from death, strength from destruction. Kinda like him.

She lands them on the ground, Danny standing easily as her board folds up becoming nanobots under and through her veins; an altered state of being similar and not to himself. Her making ‘come on’ gestures at him before heading in to one of the more beat down bars that don’t ask questions and assumes every patron is involved in something shady or another.

And Danny follows. Maybe he was a little too much of a loner.

End.

Prompts: Pretending to be someone's boyfriend for a night was not as high on Danny's list of crazy-ideas-he-should've-said-no-to as, say, agreeing to become the King of all ghosts, but it was definitely up there. Ten years since Danny graduated high school, and fourteen years since his accident. The former A-listers are organizing a high school reunion, and somehow both Danny AND Phantom got an invite… Seriously, how are these things still happening to him? Parents take apart Danny’s telescope for a new invention. Being dead somewhat drastically shuffles around your priorities. It's been a long time since Danny was able to remember what a human would feel to be important. Tucker Foley's terrible, awful, very bad day. No one knows au identity reveal

[dmercer91]

since mr.john marino went to harvard

all i can think of is him being with another harvard graduate, who put her degree into some complications field

and he brings her around the rink to meet the guys and they’re like

“hot and smart😮”

developing this into mr john marino claiming that he’s bringing a friend around because she doesn’t want people to pry into her life and she is very very private and so cue every non taken devil frothing at the mouth

and suddenly your close friend johnny is grabbing your ass kissing you right where everyone is watching

and never in your entire life had you been at a loss for words but now you’re just like.. oh my

sounds complicated, jm6

john had never needed to worry about other guys- he knew that. you’d never indulge and you were usually too much of a homebody to be subjected to flirting regardless

so he didn’t really see a problem with you asking to be introduced to the team as his close friend. you didn’t like for people to know about personal things immediately upon meeting.

you didn’t like the opportunity it gave for meddling, and not to say you didn’t trust johnnys friends- but hockey boys were never really the greatest at minding themselves or avoiding conflict

you’d worn sweatpants and a tank top- putting little to no effort into your looks knowing that you and john were meant to be getting bunch after practice

your hair wasn’t straightened, you were wearing your glasses rather than your contacts, and in your personal opinion, you looked a mess

you usually looked pretty professional- being a law student and nearing the beginning of your career meaning you needed to look proper. your current look was not that.

you walked into the arena with a glum look, trailing behind john who was occasionally stopped to greet some staff.

you made it to the dressing room where most of the guys had just been taping new sticks, some missing and some sharpening their skates in a different room you could see from where you were standing.

“s’ this your friend you were talking about, johnny?” a boy with fluffy hair came over from behind, smiling down at you and showing off his missing tooth

“yeah. ba- y/n, this is dawson. he’s.. usually normal,” you gave your boyfriend a look at his close call, turning to dawson and waving, a small smile on your lips

he returned the favour and then furrowed his eyebrows at whatever was behind you, so both you and john turned

“by usually he means never. dawson is never normal,” three guys emerged from the dressing room, the shortest of them the one who’d spoken out

john nodded sideways as a confirmation of his statement, then looked down at you.

“this is jack, his little brother luke, and that’s nico,” he pointed at each player as he stated their names, and nico smiled softly, eyeing you once

jack took the liberty of openly eye fucking you- and luke was clearly trying to be subtle, or at least more subtle than his captain and his brother, but his cheeks were flushed and he only put his hand up shyly as a greeting

“johnny said you were in law?” nico asked, his accent taking you by surprise a little

“yeah, we actually met at harvard. took an elective together and he was unsalvageable in the subject, so he asked me for help,” you shrugged

it wasn’t technically a lie- you’d only let out the minor detail that he’d initially went up to you to ask you out and you told him you’d only agree if he got a b or higher on the next paper

and then the part where he asked for help writing the paper and got to see you strip another piece of clothing after each body paragraph he’d written

“is law really difficult?” dawson asked, sounding genuinely intrigued with his head tilted in curiosity and his eyes happy

he clearly hadn’t noticed that the rest of the group was not actually intending to talk about law- but you were glad for it.

before you could answer, jack beat you to it.

“it sounds complicated. maybe you could use a little distraction, sometime?” he smirked and you raised an eyebrow. he was a lot bolder than you’d been anticipating.

you looked at johnny who’s tongue was poking his cheek, his eyes laser focused on the ground. you assumed he was trying not to implode, and you were kinda stuck on what to do

“your friends are bold, johnny,” you stated, turning to look at dawson who’s eyes were a little wide

“you’re telling me,” john grumbled, nodding towards the stands “take a seat, if you want. gotta start getting dressed,” you nodded and wandered off, waving to the five of them and trying to make your exit as quickly is possible.

after the practice was over, you’d made your way back over to the dressing room and waited for johnny to walk out.

nico had made his way out first, eyeing you before making his way over.

“you’re dating, aren’t you?” you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to feign innocence

“what do you mean? johnny?” nico grinned, the speed at which you were talking calling you out on your lie

“sorry about jack, he’s.. well, he’s definitely jack,” you giggled, nodding in agreement and looking over at the door as john came out

his eyes went back and forth between you and his captain, and he eventually came towards you and stood as close as humanly possible

“hi, baby,” you murmured, keeping quiet so only nico would hear and leaning your head onto johns shoulder

he gave you and alarmed look and you shook your head. “your captain is very perceptive,” you stated, and john smiled a little.

“cant say the same for his alt,” he mumbled under his breath and you glared at him playfully. he couldn’t really hold it against jack when nobody had known you were his

jack came off strong, but he had no ill intentions.

and, speak of the devil- he’d come out and beelined right for the little trio you’d been standing in.

before he could get over- john looked down at you.

“y/n. do you love me?” you furrowed your eyebrows, nodding

“yeah? wha-“ you were cut off by his lips on yours, one hand grabbing your waist and the other gripping your ass, your body pressed close to his

you let him- his kisses getting deeper and deeper until he tried to poke his tongue into your mouth and you pulled away, his hands staying put

“mh. jesus, johnny,” you blushed, wiping your lips that were red and starting to get swollen

you didn’t really know what else to say- flustered and a little too affected by his possessiveness for your liking

“uh. sorry, man. and sorry, y/n, for-” jack gestured vaguely, chuckling breathily, eyes a little wide at the display he’d just witnessed

“it’s fine. you didn’t know,” you reassured.

“what she said. don’t let it happen again,” johnny warned, grip falling from your ass but sprawling across your lower back, keeping you close to him

[blindmagdalena]

If A-Train was able to get a redemption arc, I don’t see why Homie couldn’t get one (I know he won’t). It’s just so annoying to me when people say Homie is irredeemable. I mean of all the villains of the show, he actually has a reason to be one based on what Vought did to him as a child and then as an adult. Like duh. What did they think would happen?? A-Train on the other hand, didn’t really have a reason to be a villain. He grew up with a loving family. He just turned out to be an asshole but gets a redemption arc. I just really want justice for Homie but it’ll never happen in canon. Thank goodness for fanfic and all the wonderful work you do!!!

so, i feel like there's a fundamental misunderstanding of the redemption arc here. the real reason Homelander is "irredeemable" is because he doesn't seek redemption. he has neither the moral capacity nor the desire.

redemption arcs aren't about who has the saddest backstory or who's more "justified" in their villainy. they're about people who feel genuine remorse for their actions and make the choice to do better. to atone.

Homelander doesn't believe he's in the wrong. he fully believes that he is justified in everything he does, and everyone he hurts. unless that CORE truth of his character changes, no, he cannot have a redemption arc.

A-Train, on the other end, is a perfect example of a well-executed redemption arc. he was absolutely NOT an asshole for no reason. sure, he wasn't raised in a lab, but his life was still FULL of abuse and exploitation. from the moment he was born, his parents pumped him full of an experimental drug. his father died when he was still a baby, and his mother worked two jobs while his young brother raised him. kids can't raise kids. his situation was tragic. i mean, for god's sake, his powers developed when he was a three year old (!!!!!!!!!!) because he was running away from the bullets of a deadly shooting towards his home.

so from the age of three, he became the breadwinner for his family. he was trained and likely performed in all kinds of ways. there's no way he didn't with how poor his family was. once he was old enough, he got picked up into Vought's programming and continued to endure god knows what kind of abuse from them. we know for a FACT that every child star of Vought ends up miserable and ruined in some way from the shit they're put through.

remember why he fell in love with Popclaw? "Here's someone who isn't afraid to be happy."

that's heartbreaking. he worked his ass off his entire life and didn't even know how to be happy because of it. even when he went to GodU, Brink commented that he was "the most driven kid he trained." because he had no choice! he was the one supporting his family out of poverty.

i'm not saying A-Train is perfect. i'm not even saying he wasn't an asshole. he was! but to claim he had no reason to turn out the way he did isn't fair. he did a lot of shitty things, he turned to drugs when his powers started to fail him, and he accidentally killed a woman because he was blitzed out of his mind on V... doing a drug run for Homelander. he's then forced by Homelander to kill the woman he loves. he did a cowardly, vile thing, and he has expressed nothing but anguish over it ever since.

but like... in the grand scheme of things, was he really that bad? he spirals and struggles. he gets mocked, he tries desperately to find his identity. the fact his brother shames him for not being connected to a community he was unplugged from because he was shunted into fame and exploitation at a young age sucks.

Reggie, that sweet little boy, was failed in every conceivable way and he became a dysfunctional adult that did shitty stuff because of it. now he's gained perspective and he's working to make different choices. i've been hugely invested in his arc because it's GOOD character work.

so while i appreciate and agree with the sentiment and wanting better for Homelander, redemption comes to those who seek it. so far, we have not seen any indication Homelander ever will. maybe he'll pull a Darth Vader moment at the eleventh hour for Ryan's sake, who knows!

either way, on his own merit, A-Train deserves the chance to be and do better.

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

Finally watched Caped Crusader and I have ✨thoughts✨.

Oswalda is straight up iconic. Loved every scene with her. I actually laughed out loud when the dude goes "Thorne got you to kill the wrong son?" and she responds "Not that!" I'd let her lock me in a suitcase and throw me in the sea. She gets a gold star ⭐

I like that we get to see Selina's origin. I like the classic suit. That's kinda it though. A bit sad that Bruce didn't feel any connection with her. Just not a huge fan of her character here. She doesn't feel like Selina (a problem most of this show faces tbh).

I was loving the Harley stuff. The bit with Renee was so cute, and I love that she really was passionate about helping Bruce move past his trauma. I really like that she's Barbara's friend. Was really upset at the fakeout death but at least she was just joshin. The villain stuff felt like fetishes which like okay. I guess Bruce needed to put in something to replace BruceBabs. Anyway, that's the final dig towards him. As much as this Harley episode wasn't my favorite, a promise is a promise. Although I do gotta ask, WHY CAN'T RENEE CATCH A BREAK IN HER LOVE LIFE >:(((

No fucking way the moral of episode 7 was "the system is totally not screwed, it's just a few bad apples and also a criminal is a criminal and should be jailed". Barbara literally says the system sucks cause the cops can do what they want and get in anyone's pockets and then nearly gets killed by a cop and then they end it with "actually, I think you do"?! I mean yeah that specific guy deserved prison but ending it on that note of Barbara feeling betrayed and confused on her morals tells a very not-so-delightful message. Glad the show backtracks on all that immediately but it's still weird and definitely could've used some revising to fit in with the rest.

Onomatopeia was awesome though. I remember people claiming his shtick couldn't work when he appeared in Superman and Lois. They said that it only worked in comics and would be too silly out loud. Happy to report that they're wrong.

I feel like I'm the only one who was excited to see Waylon but that's okay cause I got enough excitement for everyone. Love to see my mans kicking the shit out of potential perverts. You go, Waylon!

Dick, Jason, Steph, and Carrie. Definitely an interesting combination. But it's also so nice to see a Jason who grew up in a different environment and is therefore adorable with no rage in his heart. As opposed to Carrie who was ready to kick some ass. The ending to episode 8 really understood Batman, what with him saying he can't leave her there, carrying her and shielding her under the cape, and then asking about her later.

The Harvey bit is kinda cool but 1, I've always been iffy on the shotty DID stuff and 2, I think they coulda gone further. Just watch The Long Halloween for a better Two Face plot.

I like Harvey helping that guy get his stuffed animal back. That was a nice small character moment. If we had more stuff like that and Bruce being unable to confess his emotions to Alfred, I think this whole thing would be better. This one made up for episode 7's little message by having Barbara tell Harvey that it's not so cut and dry and that he deserves help too. I'm glad they went back to that after the whole "sometimes things are black and white" bit. Batman is about helping people just as much as Superman is and I feel like sending a message that "nope, bad is bad and he should just punch people" doesn't fit the entire thesis of Batman.

This finale really encapsulates how this show doesn't quite understand the character of Batman. It may be comic-accurate for him to be an asshole and put on the voice randomly, treat Alfred like crap, and randomly break character with stuff like "don't start growing a conscience now, Dent" but as I said it goes against the whole thesis. This is more along the lines of the Nolan films with the "Bruce Wayne is the mask" bit. And we all know how I feel about those films.

And then it ends on a boring cliffhanger with the boss guy and then a shitty Joker teaser. Boo.

In short, this show is good but it's not anything special. I do really like the classic Batman aesthetic, but that's pretty much it. It doesn't really understand the characters like MAWS and WFA, the overarching plot is kind of uninteresting and it doesn't feel like we're building up to something great. I feel like this show really wanted to use the episodic style to take a look at all these different elements of Gotham's world with references to existing characters and aspects. But whereas MAWS smoothly slid those into its narrative and setting, this just kinda feels like a villain of the week show instead of working towards this grand narrative. And that can be a good thing, I mean I'm a Scooby Doo fan for crying out loud, but in this scenario, it just doesn't work that exceptionally. If it gets a season 2, I'll probably watch it. But this isn't something I'd be excitedly waiting to see new episodes of.

[nutzgunray-lvt]

Why I Hate Canon Dadzawa

I'm pretty sure I've said this before multiple times, but Aizawa is my second least favorite character in MHA behind Bakugou and ahead of Shinsou. Most of this is because of his canon actions/how he's written, but a lot of this is due to people INSISTING that Fanon Dadzawa is Canon Dadzawa.

To put out a disclaimer, I don't mind Fanon Dadzawa. There's been some really well written Fanon Dadzawa fics that I like, and I'm of the belief that you can and should write whatever fics you want. I also think that Canon Dadzawa/Aizawa as a whole could have been such an interesting character had he been written better. Instead (like with almost every other character in MHA) we get someone whose actions don't match how he's supposed to come off as.

This topic is a sore spot for me, because the people who got me into MHA tried selling me on Dadzawa, Dadzawa, Dadzawa. I felt so tricked when I first got into it and saw that none of what they were saying was true.

Just like how Bakugou is a Temu version of Vegeta (so insulting to Vegeta) and Sasuke (who is another character I don't really like, but will put well above Bakugou), Aizawa is a SheIn version of Kakashi; a conventionally attractive, badass, no-nonsense teacher who genuinely cares about and is protective of his students. I have my problems with Kakashi, but it's at least been actually shown that he cares for his students, and whenever he does a "Rational Deception", he not only immediately explains himself, but he only ever did them in his introduction. For that matter, he's actually a good friend to Guy.

Aizawa, on the other hand, is a hot mess of a walking, talking contradiction in writing and Character Shilling. We're constantly told that he's this amazing teacher and amazing person, but the evidence doesn't match up with these claims.

He never owns up to his failings, choosing to a) ignore them entirely, b) excuse them away, or c) throw other undeserving people under the bus to make himself look good. We see this in how he halfheartedly acknowledges Ida angrilly calling him out on his repeated lying to 1A, when he excuses away his utter failure in curbing Bakugou's awful behavior with his "deep seated conviction" in bring a hero, and when he tries throwing All Might under the bus when Hound Dog calls them out in exaserbating Izuku's trust issues after the Gentle Criminal fight.

For that matter, he has yet to apologize to Izuku after his realization during the Liberation Front War of how much of jackass he was to him. Seriously, Izuku has saved his ass I don't know how many times, and he continued being such an ungrateful bastard towards him. I'm not saying he should have gotten on his knees and proclaimed his life to him, but you would think that would have at least changed his attitude towards him.

And speaking of Izuku, while he's always on his ass about his Quirk control... he completely ignores the issues that Aoyama and Kaminari have with THEIR Quirks. Kaminari being taken hostage at the USJ due to his lack of Quirk Control goes completely unacknowledged, and Aoyama's lack of Quirk Control is treated solely for comedic value. You'd think Dadzawa: Best UA Teacher would try to help the two of them as well, but nope.

I could go on all day about his expulsion record, but the point is, he's ruining these students' lives due to him projecting his own traumas onto them. I have to reiterate this, but these expulsions DO IN FACT stay on their permanent records. In Japan, having an expulsion on your permanent record CAN AND WILL prevent you from getting a well paying job. Expulsion is treated as an absolute last resort for a reason, and to see him throw that threat around like it's nothing is horrible of him. Nedzu is a horribly negligent principal for letting Aizawa do this, and the fact that nobody has sued UA for this is a miracle.

Then we get to his favoritism of Bakugou and Shinsou, probably the biggest indicator of his hypocrisy.

It makes absolutely NO SENSE that Aizawa's presented as this strict hardass of a teacher, and then he's shown giving preferental treatment to an abusive egoist (that was canonically how Bakugou was described in his character profile) and a whiny, Quirkist Troll doll that's not even in the Heroics Course. This is especially egrigious considering how often he bitches and moans about All Might mentoring Izuku! He sticks his neck out for Bakugou when he absolutely doesn't deserve it and when you know for a fact he wouldn't do this for his other students.

For that matter, he's such an awful friend to Mic and Midnight. His relationship with both of them is all take and no give. Mic canonically surpressed his own grief and trauma surrounding Oboro and Midnight's deaths for Aizawa's sake, and while it was wrong of Midnight to throw Aizawa's name into the teacher's ring behind his back, he repays her trying to get him a job by doing all the above I just listed. His relationship with them is unhealthy as hell, especially since they NEVER take him to task for his awful behavior.

On top of all of THAT, he genuinely thinks he's this amazing teacher and person, given how angry he gets at Mic for calling him a terrible teacher during the Sports Festival. He calls Vlad King a better teacher than him... but doesn't do ANYTHING to change his ways. You can't have it both ways, Aizawa.

In conclusion, Aizawa would have been such an interesting character had he been allowed to examine and change his attitude and teachings. Instead, we get someone who unfairly has a reputation of being a paragon of goodness and rationality.

[funnycreatortimetravel]

Small rant about Sans' character that no one is ever going to read and is probably kind of inaccurate, but I'm going to scream into the void nonetheless because why the hell not and I'm kind of bored.

I feel like the concept of Sans as a whole has been so utterly gutted by the fandom and not in the way you'd think. Not because of the AUs which are all so oddly Sans-focused (but at least we have Underverse which is actually pretty good) but in the sense of the people who claim to "actually understand Sans canonically" and "try to stay as canon as possible" while also equally missing the point sort of. Hence, why we have this long and overplayed image I'm sure everyone has seen a billion times:

If I could lay some groundwork down, Undertale came out in 2015, nearly a decade ago. The internet was a different time and place then and fandom creativity reached new peaks that no one had ever seen before, and as a result, a lot of Undertale was exaggerated, changed, cut up, and then put back together. Why? Because in all honesty, Undertale was a really simple game with a simple premise. Sure there were bits and pieces scattered throughout, parts like who Gaster was, who Chara was when they were alive, who Sans is in general; all the typical fandom theory shenanigans we've come to expect in the recent years. And in that excitement, Sans became the staple of Undertale pretty much, or at least everything it represented. This macabre, yet adorably misleading game with funny moments and interesting think pieces that people are still speculating about. That's pretty much the basis of Sans. So I get why Sans became the quintessential poster child for such a subversively ambitious game. I get why, then, people try to showcase Sans as this badass God character who knows and remembers all of resets and cries over Papyrus and is just an edge lord in general. It doesn't mean it's accurate in the slightest, but I get the idea of it nonetheless. In the absence of content, and there's a lot of it in Undertale, (I mean, it took me 4 hours to 100% it in the Pacifist and Neutral Routes, and 5 hours to beat Genocide, including the times it took me to beat Undyne because she thoroughly kicked my ass and Sans as well) the fans filled those gaps with what they saw fit and what they saw fit was so wide and diverse that the gap overflowed and the game pretty much became unrecognizable.

And I (except for the truly questionable and gross stuff, you know what I'm talking about) love the fandom for that, I truly do. Just the sheer number of comics, spin-off games, AUs, art, and fanfiction that answered every question I had and more was and is impressive, but even so, there's only so much that can be done with the context Undertale provides us before the content gets...stale. Hence my point on why Sans' character was so exaggerated is because Undertale as a whole had been exaggerated and oversaturated and overplayed and generally...not what the game or Sans was originally. But that was peak 2016-2019, though, a few years ago. And the interpretations and eras, like everything, have changed.

Now back to my actual point. It's now 2024. The fandom has noticeably slowed down. All of the AUs and theories and fanfictions that were popular have either been forgotten about over the years, randomly rediscovered or still ongoing, or just abandoned entirely. The game has been pretty much combed through until every file has been cracked, every document leaked, and every secret discovered. It's like a picked over turkey at this point and a lot of the old creators have indeed left behind the game in pursuit of newer things, which is understandable. It's not the center of attention it once was and in that wake, we don't really have a lot of the same pillars in the Undertale community that we used to. And in this transformed community, we have the left over children, now young adults and teenagers, to pick up the pieces. And in that, Sans' character, as well as Undertale itself, has again, been reformed.

That was a lot of words. But I hope I at least set the center stage. My issue, pretty much, is that the leftover fans deem themselves as "above the cringe" the old fandom left behind, which, is fair enough. And in doing so, a lot of the foundation of the 2016-2019 Undertale fandom was kind of overwritten. No, now Sans is no longer this edgy, overpowered God figure ready to right the wrongs of the player, no, now he's this apathetic guy who doesn't care about anyone, including himself, and is only powerful because he cheated. And to be fair, I see some merit in this interpretation. Sans is in fact, a pretty morally ambiguous guy. He doesn't even attempt to stop the player during the genocide route until there's nothing left. He threatens the player on the pacifist route even when we pose no threat. He makes so many allusions about himself not caring about anything. So I get it. Everyone is tired of everything Sans-related. I was too at one point. But in trying to counteract this fanon interpretation of Sans, I feel like this new one is also semi-inaccurate. This new interpretation of Sans is meant to be seen as "mature" and "not cringe" when in fact, Undertale is and always will be sort of cringe. And that's OK! That's why I and others love the game so much, because it's not afraid of being anything other than what it is and what it claimed to be. It had a story in mind that it wanted to tell and it did so unabashedly. The need to separate Undertale and Sans itself from the cringe is so pointless and almost a little juvenile. And imo, even ruins the character of Sans himself.

Sans does care about Papyrus, so so so much. He reads him bedtime stories. He plays along with his illusions of grandeur. He calls out the player when he's killed, despite Sans having to remain objective as a judge. I feel like Sans not intervening in Papyrus' death isn't because he doesn't care, it's because his entire job is to act as a judge and in a position where he's mostly neutral. He knows the player has powers to redo and undo things, so thus, he gives us room to make those choices, for better or worse. He's like, the anti-toriel. He refuses to hold your hand. He tells YOU to make the right choice, and by you, I mean the player. And in that sense, I feel like that's not something a completely apathetic guy would do. Someone like that wouldn't even see the point of choices, of having an option. Someone like that wouldn't care about getting out of bed in the morning, getting several jobs, or telling a person with higher power to just engage with your brother.

Like come on, don't say he doesn't put effort into anything, like he went out of his way to make sure Pap's Holiday party went perfect. He's constantly going above and beyond for his brother.

Sans has emotions and they're so complex and so well-written, but I feel like this counter-cringe culture of the fandom wants him to be this guy who's either too depressed or too lazy to engage with others, or someone who would simply shrug off the death of loved ones when we have proof that Sans does indeed try hard for Papyrus in the ending where everyone dies but his brother. It's an "oh shit" sort of moment when he realizes that Papyrus is the only person he has left and thus, he puts in the effort to be better for him. It's not that he doesn't care or see the point, he's just kind of numb at this point. If Papyrus dies in the neutral routes, you don't see Sans again until the judgment hall and he'll call you a dirty brother killer and tell you to go to hell. That's something someone who at least cares a little would do. He's not above insulting the player and he's not above getting pissed. I've never really seen him as a, "well that's that then," character when it comes to Papyrus dying, for me, it's always been, "I'm angry, but I can maintain my composure and still do what I have to do."

Even in the genocide routes, Sans wants to give up and do nothing. He wants to let himself die without much thought. But he knows that he has to stand between you and oblivion. It's another, "Oh shit" moment, but in the opposite way. He knows he's gonna die. But he still has hope. Not necessarily that you'll be a good person, but that you can try another way and make better choices. He embodies the same mentality Papyrus did at the beginning of the run, believing there's a better chance for another future where everyone can be happy.

Sans isn't a nihilist, not all the way. There's still a chance, still a part of him that has hope for everything, regardless of the route. And should the Pacifist route be completed, you'll see that he's genuinely happy. He DOES care, or at least he's beginning to know that caring about things is ok and healthy even.

Ex 1: If you go to Sans' lab after completing a True Pacifist Route, you get this bit of dialog:

Ex 2: Sans and Papyrus talking about a Christmas party they had on the Newsletter of the 5th Anniversary of Undertale.

The strongest, yet most complex example of this that we see is that he upholds his promise with Toriel and will continue to do so until the genocide route at the very end because he wants to at least give us, the player, a chance. And even if it was a cop-out for being lazy, I believe that Sans legitimately believes there's a chance for us to turn around and be a better person, or at the very least, make better choices. We know that Sans is a person who doesn't like making promises at all, and even though he said that his threatening to kill Frisk is a joke, had he not made that promise to Toriel, I can't 100% say that he still wouldn't intervened in the genocide and neutral routes.

And if you think about it, Sans upholding that promise just makes me question him even more. Like, even if you kill his brother, so long as you don't kill everyone, he won't kill you just because of that. He sticks to his promise and his morals so much, even if it costs him everything because well, what type of judge would he be if he didn't stick to his moral code?

"If you have some special power, don't you think it's your responsibility to do the right thing?"

And by that logic, if he made a promise with someone, don't you think he'd feel he'd have the responsibility to uphold it?

We also know that he makes an effort to give us updates on the Underground after we leave in the neutral routes because he still wants us to know, at least, the consequences of our actions, so it's not like he's just lazily letting us get away with anything with do (even if he does physically.) He still holds our actions above our heads. He still keeps his promise. He still knows that we can make a better outcome. And if that doesn't say anything about him, I don't know what does.

Even in the neutral route endings where things are objectively going terribly for the monsters with Frisk killing Asgore and taking the souls to leave the barrier, Sans still never gives up. Sans, of all people.

And sure, Sans isn't a saint, not by a long shot, but he does have some moral weight in the long run, and by playing the part of a judge, he has a certain level of disattachment that's necessary when it comes to doing his job. Nowadays, I don't see the "fanon" sans that everyone loves to rag on, the one that's overly emotional and jarringly out of character, more so, I see everyone ragging on that interpretation, and then coming up with an equally inaccurate interpretation of Sans just not giving a shit and letting Frisk get away with everything just because he's "not emotional and only wants to be lazy, blah, blah, blah, nihilism, existentialism, it's more canonically accurate, unlike that CRINGE FANON SANS!" /or being a total unserious prankster with no other personality traits, and that's equally as jarring for me.

So in conclusion, I feel like "Fanon" Sans, the one where he's breaking down and sobbing over Papyrus and holding his scarf is just as inaccurate as the "more canon one" where he's apathetic and simply just not caring about his death, or at the very best, says "it is what it is." Sans is a character whose emotions aren't apparent, but he still does care in his weird philosophical way. He loves Papyrus and genuinely thinks he's cool. He's a jokester character who loves a good laugh and being laid back. He doesn't like putting in effort, but he will if he has to. He wants the player to make good choices, so he generally tries to stay out of the way to give us that freedom. Not because he knows we're gonna kill Papyrus, but because he knows we have greater power and wants us to use it to do the morally right thing. He isn't above doing morally grey things either, like threatening to kill Frisk in case they pose a threat to monster kind, but I believe even then, his hesitation to just accept a human in the underground is somewhat understandable given the oppressive tension between humans and monsters. Additionally, he does put in effort when it comes to caring about monsters other than Papyrus, Toriel, and even Alphys and Asgore, he cares about them all: (it's implied that he feeds the amalgamates in Alphy's old lab as proven by the same dog food we see in the lab being in Sans' house and Alphys even calls him a good guy because he helps her in the aborted genocide route ending, him telling jokes to Toriel and genuinely trying to bring some joy in her life even though she's a stranger and doesn't have an obligation to, even staying with her in the Ruins after she's dethroned in the Queen Undyne ending, him acting as the judge before Asgore and even being in such an important position requires you to have a solid sense of morality and conviction, his respect for Undyne as a warrior/leader depending on the ending and in the Undertale Newsletter, he makes an effort to score a goal for his team in Hocky, and Undyne of all people seems proud of him, and pretty much everything that has to do with Papyrus he's at the very least involved or interested in.)

My words don't have a lot of merit. I'm simply saying how I interpret things. But as a big sister, I see Sans as a good big brother who's not too involved, but also deeply cares about his younger brother and his friends. I get that stoicism and being "logical" and "cold" is the new trend and whatnot with all these edits of badass characters and longing for a time when everything was less...emotional, but in doing that, it shuts a lot of discussion about Sans as a person and his complex emotions as a whole. I feel like it's too difficult and kind of silly to chalk him up as either one or the other. I feel like there's a nice middle ground between the "cringe" fanon sans and the "cool, apathetic" canon sans that a lot of fans either go one or the other on. Anyway, that's about it for my rant. It's kind of nonsensical and a little hard to follow, but I hope I was able to get my thoughts across nonetheless.

I guess it was a big rant after all. Oh well. It is what it is.

[telail]

☆ Go Where? [Crazy 4u] | YEOSANG

pairing: ateez k.y.s. x fem!reader tags: yandere, psycho boyfriend, poc friendly, established relationship wc: 914 warnings: language, threatening, weapons, yeosang is insane.

🎧- Arson by j-hope

note: "If i cant have you, no one can!" faceass masterlist

Yeosang was known for being quiet and calm, never really being too keen on attention and always in his own world. You'd think he was harmless, his angelic face serving as a mask for his more horrific thoughts and actions. He was far from what people on the outside assumed he was. An angel, the perfect boyfriend? Please.

It’d been clear to you since the start of your relationship that something was.. off in his head— morally, that is. The signs had been subtle, something you’d have easily missed if you didn’t pay him so much attention, whether it be the way he’d ‘jokingly’ make remarks about doing the unthinkable in his moments of possessiveness or the look he’d give you when you brought up leaving him in any manner, as if he was just daring you to.

He was a man of his word, most of the time sticking to his claims. In other words he was bark and bite. Yeosang was blunt with a rather logical state of mind, insanely and impressively strategic too.

One night you and Yeosang had gotten into a heated argument, about him being overbearing at times and how you were tired of him intimidating anyone that got close to you with his eerie silence and occasionally off-putting dead gazes. Which of course he retaliated against and one thing led to another and you were left packing your things as you cussed him out under your breath.

"You’re always tellin' me to fuckin' talk t'you and when I do, this is how you wanna act? I’m over this shit!" You complained throwing anything you saw that was yours into an oversized suitcase. "TaLk To Me aNgeEl" You mocked his previous words as you went into the bathroom to grab your tooth brush and a few other toiletries.

You were planning on staying at your best friend's place for a few days to give him a chance to get his shit together and for you to get some space and clear your head. Without him.

But the entire time you rambled on about the situation entirely Yeosang said nothing, having shut up the second he saw you start packing. He just stared blankly at the floor looking at nothing in particular, seemingly zoned out or so you assumed.

His hands were placed between his legs as he leaned over and continued to stare at nothing.

"So you’re just gonna act like you don't hear me fuckin' talkin’ to you? I hate when you do that shit-" Your ranting became background noise to him as he focused on your every move with his peripheral vision alone. Watching as you moved around the room knocking things over in the process in pure rage. Your words remained unheard until you decided you'd actually had enough of him tuning you out and made your way to the bedroom door.

"I should've been left your ass, you act like you don't care about anything. I'll just go." You said sharply, your tone strong but he could hear the hurt in it.

You snatched your bags up and went to leave the bedroom going straight for the front door.

You grabbed your keys and went to reach for the doorknob before hearing a faint click noise from the bedroom.

You stilled completely your heart stopping as you literally froze in place, a million thoughts racing through your head as you tried to figure out if what you'd just heard was what you thought you’d just heard.

By the time you realized and decided to turn around Yeosang was already in front of you. Standing too close for comfort as he loomed over you, you looked up at him about to say something before the feeling of cold metal met the underside of your jaw.

His gun, the one he kept in the nightstand- the same gun he said he'd use to protect you is the one he's holding steadily under your chin right now, not saying a word as he silently threatened to end your shit.

"Go where?" he mumbled, his tone neutral as he stared holes into your soul. The subtle craze in his eyes hardly noticeable but there.

"Y-Yeo I-" You stuttered, genuinely scared for your life. You knew Yeosang was crazy, that he might’ve been a bit off- but not to this extent. This was an entire different ball game from the usual threatening comment here and there.

"Gonna leave me yeah?" He mumbled, mocking your slightly spooked expression before cracking a smirk and pushing the cold gun a little harder against your skin. "You take a single step out that damn door and i'll blow your damn brains out." He whispered calmly, his voice dangerously low as he kept his words sharp, meeting your eyes before gently kissing your jawline and cheek as if he wasn't threatening your life.

"Unpack, and i'll run you a warm bath, calm your nerves a little hm?" He said, the ends of his lips curling up into a smile of faux empathy as he brushed a stray curl from your face with the weapon in his hold.

You nodded, every word you had to say nowhere to be found as a single tear trickled its way down your cheek. You dropped your bags and let your arms hang limply on your sides as the tears began to flow one after another.

"Ssshh.. y'know how much I love you right? You can't just leave me angel.. nobody else is out there for you but me." Yeosang said, kissing the shell of your ear and wrapping his arms around you as he did so.

"You’re…you’re insane." You choked out between tears, your head dropping into the crook of his neck.

He stayed silent, not responding to your remark immediately as he rubbed your back in comfort. After a few more seconds he finally spoke.

"Only when I need to be my love."

Excuse any mistakes. :P

[an-android-in-a-tutu]

Hey if we’re talking about Dean and angels, entirely in good faith I’m sure, you wanna see one of my most personally loathed Dean transgressions?

It’s this bit from season 9:

[IMG: Dean Winchester with a phone to his ear, facing left, Sam is out of focus in the background of the shot. The captions read “Well, trust me, they’re just monsters with good PR.”]

[IMG: A man leaning against his car on the side of the road with his phone to his ear, the other side of the conversation. The captions, continued from the previous image, read: “So, if you run into one, torch his ass with holy oil.”]

[IMG: Later in the same conversation, Dean, leaning back and facing slightly right speaking into his phone. The captions read “And, uh, spread the word.”]

[IMG: The same as above, Dean continues speaking, the captions now read: “The more hunters that know, the better.”]

I’ve cut for the relevant stuff but that’s Dean’s solution to the problem of a bunch of fallen angels being on earth. Warning hunters about them I get, but this? To Dean angels are monsters with good pr, helping them or even sparing them isn’t in the equation, the solution is to burn them alive with holy oil.

Just to be clear, these are the last words exchanged with Cas on the matter:

[IMG: Castiel in the foreground looks back at another angel, Hael, who is looking around with concern, holding her harms to her chest and stomach. They are outside, framed next to a dumpster and an outhouse, Castiel is speaking into a payphone. The Captions read “Some are just looking for direction.”]

[IMG: Dean Winchester holds a cellphone to his ear, listening and looking perturbed, he is in a hospital hallway. The captions, continued from the previous image, read: “Some are just lost.”]

Cas expresses that some of the angels are just lost and confused, that he met one and wants to help her.

[IMG: Dean in the left half of the frame, looking down, speaking into the phone. The captions read “No Cass, I know you want to help, okay, I do.”]

Dean warns him not to, and I actually like and understand Dean’s point of view here. Dean might understand that Cas cares about the other angels, but he cares a lot more about Cas not getting hurt, and he’s personally seen that some angels are out for his blood, and considering Cas just finished getting tricked by an angel that caused this whole mess I don’t think it’s unreasonable for him to be skeptical of Cas’ judgment here. I mean, no more than his own considering what he’s about to do and also considering, oh yeah, it was Sam and Dean going to Metatron for help that put him back into play in the first place, but this is like understandable and in character. Dean wants Cas to prioritize his own safety, that’s cool.

[IMG: Castiel, centre frame, looking off to the right, speaking into a payphone, he looks upset. The captions read: “And do what? Just abandon them all?”]

Cas for his part views not helping the angels that he can as wrong, not fighting against them or hurting him, but just not doing everything he can to help. The conversation gets cut off before they can really get into an argument about it, and Cas ultimately takes Dean’s advice and tries to leave Hael and go to the bunker alone.

Now you know and I know that Cas ends up having to kill Hael when she backs him into a corner, despite his attempts to leave peacefully. Dean doesn’t know about that, his last word from Cas is that he wants to help the angels.

Cas has done plenty wrong by heaven, and a lot of what motivates him to help is the weight of that guilt, but his desire to reconcile and repent for his mistakes, and to help the other angels is a well established and consistent trait of his. Dean knows about this, he literally says “I know you want to help.” He just doesn’t care.

Because angels are “monsters with good PR”

anyway this is why I can’t stand it when people claim Cas should’ve trusted Dean with the angel tablet back in season 8. Forget the fact that Kevin literally got kidnapped from the place they were keeping him (and planning to take the angel tablet) two episodes later, Dean himself is not someone who can be trusted with information about angels, not if Cas cares about the well-being of his species, and he does.

Anyway that’s my take on it you’re welcome to disagree obviously, but Imo just because Cas is the poster child for angel massacres doesn’t mean the fact that his best friend seems to consider him and everyone like him to be sub-human isn’t like. An issue.

[abeautylives]

Times I Remember Well

(and Some That I Don’t)

Part 3

author’s note: Thank you for reading this ridiculous story. Now for the good stuff.

pairing: female!OCxjake

time frame: 2016-2018

word count: almost 7.8k this part

warnings: language, underage drinking (implied), mentions of sex and sexual situations, nudity, oral (m. and f. receiving), unprotected penetrative sex

You know how most people’s lives change pretty drastically when they move away for college?

What, were you expecting me to claim that I was different, special in some way?

I’m not.

If you’re wondering, Sam and I were fine. I guess he’d matured enough to keep speaking to me when he found out I’d almost fucked his brother. I was still immature enough to give him a classic three day long silent treatment over the whole Sam said he thought you were fucking that guy you dated thing.

I even made him agree to never bring me up to Jake again. Ever.

Anyway, my first semester of college kind of kicked my ass. I was smart enough, but I couldn’t decide on a major and it made the whole experience feel like a waste of time. I didn’t meet anyone worth much of my effort to get to know, and I spent a lot of nights alone in my dorm room. I barely even liked my roommate. Meanwhile, Sam was at home breezing through his last year of high school and preparing to actually go on tour.

Like a real tour. It was my worst nightmare. And I had to hear all about it when I came home for winter break. 

But he was excited, of course he was. And I was proud of him. And Josh, and Danny. I couldn’t bring myself to have positive feelings for Jake. After he’d rejected and embarrassed me (again), I’d run off to school determined to lose my v-card to literally anyone who’d never been to Frankenmuth or heard of their band. Fortunately for me, almost no one had heard of either.

So, I did. And Matthew Nowak had been a very cursory and lazy fuck, but he got the job done. I mean, he popped the cherry or whatever, he didn’t make me come, and I never gave him another opportunity to try.

I almost didn’t even go home for Christmas, my dad had been begging me to come see him, but I knew if I didn’t go home, I might never see my best friend again.

Was that a little dramatic? Sure, but the dates for tour were going to start around my birthday, before he even graduated, and he wouldn’t be home for the entire summer. There were talks of getting signed, to a fucking label. Releasing their music to the world. Jake’s dreams were coming true and he was stealing my best fucking friend from me.

He really was an asshole.

I went back to school in the spring a little sad, nostalgic for a time when things were easy and fun, and I always had a weekend smoke sesh in the Kiszka garage to look forward to. There was nothing for me to look forward to in Ann Arbor. Until I met Soph.

Sophie and I were paired up within the first few days of one of our classes, and thank God we were. We clicked instantly, she was almost like a female version of Sam with even better hair.

She got me out of my slump, out of my dorm room and out of my own head.

As we started hanging out more outside of class, we learned about each other’s lives at home, and she let me talk endlessly about Sam. About moving away from Traverse and finding the best friend I’d ever had, growing up with him, becoming an adult at his side.

I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but eventually I ran out of stories and didn’t feel the need to talk about him much anymore.

For a few months, we worked hard and partied harder, and I felt more and more like myself, or my new self, with her help. My new self must have been putting out certain vibes that attracted attention, because I wasn’t hurting for it. Not that I really had back home, but home had narrowed my view, the Kiszkas my whole world. Even when I did date boys, Sam was there to tell me he didn’t like them, then Josh was there shining brighter than the sun, blinding me to them.

Then Jake was there. Ruining me for everyone else, just by existing.

In Ann Arbor, Soph had the opposite effect. Every guy was cute, cute enough to talk to, flirt with, party with. A select few were hot enough to make out with, let them touch our bodies, we would touch theirs. Dance with them, let them pull us close, throw our arms around them and tell them to take us somewhere quieter. 

There was that one time, I’d gone back to this guy’s dorm and he’d put a playlist on shuffle. Ya know, so we wouldn’t be heard. And right before I put his dick in my mouth, fucking Highway Tune started playing. 

Instant no. I left him there with a hard-on and zero promises of returning.

But anyway, Soph and I had fun every weekend, studied every weeknight. By the end of the second semester, we’d decided on my major, and made sure we would share more classes in the fall.

When summer break rolled around, we spent the first half with her family in Grand Rapids and the second, reluctantly, with my mom. Home was weird without Sam, but he was off galavanting across the U.S. Communication between us had been sparse, though he did call me once every few weeks to fill me in, and let’s be honest, brag. I didn’t mind the bragging, much, but even with how well things were going at school, I’d have given anything to drop it all and be with him. 

Even if it meant tolerating Jake. 

Life goes on, time keeps on slipping, the wheel in the sky keeps on turning and all that. 

College was hard, but Soph and I really buttoned up in the fall. More studying, fewer boys, a little less fun, but Michigan gets cold fast and running wild all over campus didn’t hold the same appeal. We vowed to live it up in the spring, maybe settle down and get some boyfriends. Maybe not.

“Holy shit holy shit!”

We were in the library, Soph across the table from me with wide eyes, laptops, books and notes spread out between us.

“Shhh! What? What the fuck?” She leaned in conspiratorially and I turned my phone around to show her the screen. 

“They’re playing in Detroit. They’re coming home!”

“Will you be quiet? Who, Sam’s band?”

That made me laugh every time. I always called it Sam’s band, because he would’ve loved it and someone else I knew would have loathed it.

They hadn’t been home in forever, they were hardly even in the states, and when they’d played the Fillmore in the spring I’d been so bogged down with new classes and so much fucking homework, I couldn’t justify leaving campus let alone the city. 

But they were coming back, and I’d be on winter break. Sam had sent me their schedule, which I’d thrust into Soph’s hands.

“Aww, reunion! I wish I could go with you.” Her pouty face was unmatched, but she was going with her parents to visit family in Ohio for the holidays. For a moment, that realization made me panic. I wanted to go, needed to see my best friend, but to do it alone? Why did that make me nervous?

Maybe because I hadn’t seen him in two years. Maybe because I hadn’t seen him in more than two. I doubted I’d even get to spend much time with Sam, and I doubted further that I’d be able to get him away from the others.

Not that I wouldn’t want to hang out with Danny, or even Josh. But… well, you know.

I wondered if they were going home for the brief break between Detroit and Seattle, and I made a mental note to ask Sam. 

I’d insisted on buying my own ticket to the show, their third added at the Fox after the first two sold out, but Sam wouldn’t hear of it. He set me up with a ticket and access to see them backstage, and I tried not to let it get to my head. It's not like they were famous or anything.

Selling out multiple shows.

I FaceTime’d Sophie so she could help me decide what to wear - I hadn’t put this kind of pressure on an outfit since the night I kissed… yeah, you saw how that went.

We landed on skin tight faux leather pants, an extremely low-cut black and tan floral print top with a fitted bodice and wide, flowy sleeves, and chunky black boots. I planned to top it off with a vintage fur coat Sam and I had found thrifting a few years back. We’d always joked that it originally belonged to the old lady they named their band after. 

“Okayyyyy, so what about your underwear?” 

I stopped spinning in front of my phone, where I’d been showing Sophie the whole get up.

“What the fuck do you mean, my underwear? Who cares?”

“Babe, it’s a rock show! What if you meet a super hot guy with like, tattoos and a tongue ring that wants to rock your world?” I watched her eyebrows waggle as she stuck her own tongue out at me. 

“Yeah I don’t think that’s really their demographic.” 

But… an idea started to form. Sexy underwear would make me feel sexy. Who would be irritated to see me, looking and feeling sexy, arguably hotter now than I’d ever been? Who would be downright furious to watch me get a little flirty, a little provocative with another man? Men? His brothers?

Ohhh, Jake Kiszka was gonna kill me. And it was gonna be worth it. 

The ticket Sam held for me was in the front fucking row. Of the seats, behind the pit floor, but still. How embarrassing, what if I didn’t know any of the words? I didn’t really listen to their music, not since I was in high school, watching them practice or play at Fischer.

As you can imagine, I didn’t need to worry. Every, single, song was familiar. Songs that they’d written or started writing when Sam was barely fifteen. But the people around me knew them all, better than I did actually. 

That was… pretty cool.

I left my seat as the guys were blowing kisses and throwing flowers into the crowd, stopped in a bathroom to check myself out, and followed Sam’s directions to make it backstage. The guys made it there before me, I could hear their excited voices from the hall as a security guard led me to their green room. We slowed as we got closer, and I stopped the guard before we reached the door, composing myself, slipping my coat off, smoothing my hair and controlling my expression. 

You should've seen his face when I walked through the doorway, slow clapping and wearing my best deadpan. They all turned their heads in my direction, but his face was the one I sought out. 

His cheeks were still flushed from the stage (he honestly goes crazy up there) but he immediately turned so bright pink I hoped his head would explode. 

“YOU’RE HERE! Holy shit, you’re here!” Sam rushed at me and instantly my feet were off the ground, he swung me around and I couldn’t help the smile that stretched wide as I laughed with him. 

“You’re sweaty! Put me down, idiot!” He dropped me to my feet and grabbed a hand, lifted it above my head and spun me in a circle.

“Look at you, you look hot, T!” His laughter cracked loud and joyous and my heart soared. He didn’t mean anything by it, of course, but he was right and I knew it.

Danny approached me next, taller and even broader than I ever remembered him being, and wrapped me up in another sweaty hug. “Good to see you, did you get tinier?” We laughed and I slapped him away. Then Josh caught my eye, arms crossed over his bare chest under an open black vest and leaning against the vanity, grinning. 

I moved toward him and he met me in the middle, opened his arms and threw them around me. He didn’t make fun of me, or comment on the way I looked. Our cheeks were pressed together and he turned his face and dropped a kiss to mine. “We’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you guys too, more than you know.”

He let me go and his grin stretched into a blinding smile. “What’d you think of the show?”

“It was fucking awesome, I can’t believe you guys are like, legit rockstars! Seems like yesterday you were jamming in your garage.” Sam sidled up and threw a long arm over my shoulders.

“To be fair, we didn’t really stop jamming in the garage until last year, T.”

I knew that, I guess. But I’d missed it, and I’d missed the moment my best friend grew up. But this wasn’t the time to get weepy about that. I still had a mission to accomplish.

Turning out of Sam’s hold, I faced him. He no longer looked apoplectic, but his nostrils were flared and his arms were crossed, one hand running a finger across his chin below pursed lips. His focus was distinctly somewhere on the floor, but I walked toward him and watched his eyes connect with my boots and then travel, slowly, all the way up my body. 

Get a good look, asshole.

And he did, his gaze lingered for a fraction of a second on my hips, and then again on my chest before it finally met my face.

Say something stupid, I dare you.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 

My own eyes rolled in my skull. “Good to see you too, Jacob. How have you been?”

His features twisted in confusion for just a moment before he smoothed them back out. Good.

“Fantastic, living the dream, ya know. How have you been, Tiny?”

“Oh, really good!” I crossed one arm, tucking it under my tits and pushing them up while I twirled a finger through a strand of my hair with the other hand. “I’m majoring in English and Writing and aced all of my finals this past semester. Just really living my best on-campus life. Work hard, play hard and all that.”

It was so satisfying, the way he’d accidentally looked at my chest and then failed to look back at my face until I was done speaking. I swear to you my pussy fluttered when he swallowed, hard, before responding. It was that satisfying. 

“That’s- ahem, that’s great. Glad to hear it. Thanks for coming by to say hi or whatever but we need to pack up our gear and head to the hotel.”

Nice try.

“Oh, cool! I’d love to come with you guys, I just miss you all so much.” His face started turning pink again before I looked over my shoulder. “Sammy! Can I come with and hang out at the hotel? Just for a little bit?” I whipped my head back, my hair swinging with it, to see his face before Sam even answered.

I wanted to see if steam came out of his ears.

“Fuck yeah! You can crash with me if you want!”

One corner of my mouth lifted and curled. “Perfect!”

I regret to inform you that no steam came out. But I think it was pretty close.

When I pulled in at the hotel, I texted Sam and he told me they were in the lobby so I flipped my visor down, checked my face and fluffed my hair. After a deep breath, I got out of the car and made my way inside. 

The hotel wasn’t anything too ritzy, and I figured despite it all, they weren’t that famous. Sam still looked and sounded like the best friend I’d grown up with, though there was something about him that had become more attractive. All of them actually exuded more… sex appeal? 

Ugh, musicians. 

My timing was pretty good, I entered the building in time to catch them getting in the elevator, Jake being the last left in the lobby. But we caught each other’s eye and instead of walking on, he backed up a step. The doors closed and the elevator rose without him. 

He stood there, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, and waited for me to reach him. When I did, he spoke before I could. 

“What are you doing here, T?”

I painted confusion on my face instead of the pure gratification I actually felt. “Visiting my friends? What are you-“

“Cut the bullshit. It’s unbecoming.”

Okay, that was a little wrinkle in my plan. I hadn’t even started shamelessly flirting with anyone yet and he was already cursing at me. I doubled down.

“I came to see them, Jake.” I pressed the button to call the elevator back down and crossed my arms.

“And what about me?”

“What about you?” Just as I glanced up, feigning more interest in the LED display of numbers as the elevator came down than this conversation, he stepped closer and gripped my arm. Pulled me closer.

It felt familiar.

“I’m not buying it. Come on.” The elevator dinged and the doors opened to an empty car, but he was already pulling me down a hall toward a stairwell door. It swung open as he shoved through it, yanked me through and pushed me ahead of him, and it slammed shut behind us.

The stairwell was silent, our breathing was amplified and bounced off the walls. His voice made me flinch.

“Third floor. Go.”

Four flights of stairs and two landings separated me from their room. That was fine, I could do it.

Except he stayed behind me the entire time and didn’t speak a word. By the time I pushed the door to the third floor open, my nerves were fried and I was still trying to discern his reasoning for taking the stairs. If he had yelled at me or pushed me to the wall and kissed me in the stairwell, it would’ve made more sense. Instead, he placed a hand low on my back and led me down a deserted hallway to room 307. I breathed a shaky sigh of relief, ready to abandon the plan completely and run to Sam, use him as a personal human shield for the rest of the night.

But he pulled a key card out of his pocket and slid it into the lock, and the heavy door opened to a dark, empty room. 

Jake stepped inside and flicked on a light, holding the door open for me. I didn’t move.

“Jake, what-“

“Get in here, we need to talk.”

It sounded like a terrible idea, I hadn’t come here to talk. I came to spend time with Sam and do enough harmless flirting with the guys to drive Jake crazy. 

“No. Where are the guys?”

He just stared at me for a tense few seconds before he sighed impatiently. “In Sam and Danny’s room.”

“And which room would that be, exactly? I’ll just go knock-“

“Please.”

I know, I know. Did he really have to go and ask nicely?

“Fine, you know what? You have five minutes then I’m the fuck out of here.” He had the nerve to give me a tight-lipped smile, lift his palm and wave me in as I started to pass him and head into the room. Then he let the door swing shut.

We were alone.

The room was pretty standard, two queen-size beds, a table and two chairs. Not exactly rockstar shit. I tossed my coat onto the closest bed.

“You want a drink?”

I dropped into a chair, crossed my legs and folded my hands over my knee. “No, I don’t. What did you need to talk to me about? You have four minutes.”

He pulled a White Claw out of the mini fridge, popped the tab and sat at the end of the bed closest to me. After a swig from the can, he leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. 

“Three minutes.”

“Jesus, give it a rest, T.” He pinned me with a glare and my eyes widened. “Don’t. Don’t act all affronted because you’re not getting your way, I’m sick of it.” 

“I don’t know what you mean, I-“

“Stop! Tell me why you’re really here.”

“To see Sam! I told you-“

He stood from the bed, leaned across me and slammed the can onto the table. I jumped in my seat, but then he bent down and gripped the arms of the chair on either side of me. Right in my face, he ripped me to shreds.

“I’m tired of this, T. Since day one, everything has always had to be all about you, your feelings, your stupid ideas, your fucking games.”

That was ridiculous and it straightened my spine, I sat up taller and put us nose to nose, but he didn’t stop.

“How many times have you come between us and Sam? Pitted us against each other? Run away when you didn’t get your way, with one of us or all of us?”

With a huff, he pushed himself away from me but now I was ready for a fight. Launching from the chair, my body followed his. “And what about you, Jake?  You spent years fucking with me, leading me on, just to humiliate me over and over again!”

“Is that really what you think?!” We were squared up now, hands flailing as we yelled in each other's faces. “I didn’t do shit, and you spent years avoiding me, making me feel awkward and unwelcome in my own house because God forbid I ever be in the presence of such a self-entitled, delicate fucking princess!”

“Oh, you fucking prick. Fuck you-“

“So eloquent, that’s really lovely Tiny.”

You already know that he said that on purpose.

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” I was fuming, the steam was probably coming out of my ears, and that pissed me off further. Everything about this was infuriating, my night completely off-railed, my time with my friends ruined. I was done.

I threw my hands up and then put them on his shoulders, with all intention to shove him out of my way and walk out of the room with some part of my dignity intact, for once.

But that’s not exactly what happened.

Because once I touched him, the tension reached a breaking point. And boy did it break.

Before I could push him away, his arms were around me, his hands spread across my back, and he pulled me in. 

Yep, he was kissing me. 

Our mouths slammed together and all the anger, all the fury, combusted between them.

My own hands betrayed me and shot from a grip on his shoulders to a grip in the hair at the back of his head, still slightly damp from sweat or a shower at the venue, I had no idea. And I didn’t care.

He ravaged my lips until they felt bruised, opened them with his and forced our tongues to battle for dominance, sucked the air from my lungs until I couldn’t breathe. I pulled away to drag some back in but he hardly gave me the chance, tugging me back in to kiss my lips, bite my jaw, murmuring between the attacks. 

“Why are you really here…”

His hands slid up my back and sunk into my hair, pulled my head to the side so he could continue his attack on my neck, my throat.

“Say it, the truth.”

My brain was in shut down, I forgot what words were and how to make them. His teeth reminded me, scraping along my skin.

“You. For you.”

His lips closed over mine again and he was moving me, two steps backward and we turned, the back of my knees hit the bed where he’d been sitting. Our mouths broke apart, our hands fell away. The sound of our breathing, fast and uneven, thundered between us.

“I’m not gonna stop this time, T.”

My heart stumbled over its next few beats.

“I don’t want you to.”

We fell back into silence as he reached forward and slid his hands up underneath my shirt, rough fingertips pushing the fabric up over my ribs, my chest, I lifted my arms and let him pull it over my head and shook my hair out as he let it drop to the floor. 

There was just enough light coming from the only one he’d flicked on, and the moonlight spilling through the uncovered window, that I saw his nostrils flare. His eyes trailed over my lace and silk covered chest before meeting mine.

“You’re so beautiful,” My breath caught, I held it. “I’ve never told you how beautiful you are.”

I couldn’t speak, emotion squeezing my throat, the words I’d always wanted to hear from him tightening every muscle in my body. So instead, I mirrored his actions and tucked my fingers under the hem of his t-shirt. Soft, heated skin met my touch and I flattened my palms over his hips, up over his stomach and I swear he trembled. Seriously! When they made it to his chest, I could feel the hard, steady beat of his heart, rapid beneath my hand. 

Maybe he knew I could feel it, maybe not, but he leaned in and pulled a soft, sweet kiss from my lips before he took over and tugged the shirt over his head. 

“Jake…” His chest and stomach were lightly toned and completely flawless, a glimpse of which I’d gotten when he was onstage, shirtless under an open jacket. I wanted to tell him just how perfect I thought he was, he’d always been, but the words wouldn’t come. So I bent my knees and dropped to the bed, the barely there happy trail leading up from the low waist of his pants now directly in front of my face.

I leaned forward and kissed it. A strangled noise came from above me, I smiled against his skin. Then his hand was in my hair and he pulled, forcing my face up. He smirked.

“You ever done this before?”

Asshole.

Blindly I reached for and found the button of his jeans, popped it open and worked his zipper down slowly. 

“Please don’t piss me off, or I won’t be nice.”

A chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Just making sure.”

His grip in my hair kept my chin tilted up, eyes locked with his. I peeled the denim over his hips and pulled it down to his knees. Heat rolled off his body in waves, I was dying to look at it, take it all in but there was fire in his stare and I was burning. My fingertips mapped out what I couldn’t see, found the subtle V that led down into his briefs and traced it before I tucked them under the elastic and rolled it down his legs. 

Jake Kiszka’s cock bobbed in the air between his hips and my face. Crazy, I know. I wrapped shaky fingers around him, felt how thick and hard he was before I’d even seen it, tried to picture what I could remember from his dark bedroom.

“Fuck, T.” I tightened my grip on him, just a little, stroked him once. His eyes slid shut.  “I can’t believe you’re here.” I stroked him again and his grasp on my hair loosened, my chin dropped and there it was. As perfect as the rest of him, his dick was big, the head flushed pink. My mouth watered.

For real.

In that moment, I wondered quickly what he liked, how fast, how slow, how hard? My tongue slid out and tasted him, just the very tip, and he snatched my hair up again. The sting in my scalp made my eyes water and I opened my lips and took him in, wrapped them around him and swirled my tongue over his skin. He whimpered.

I could be remembering that wrong, but I swear he did.

He wanted to take control, I could feel it in the smallest amount of pressure from his knuckles on my scalp, but I wanted to be stubborn. I was tired of the control he seemed to have over every one of our interactions. I released him with a soft pop and his eyes shot open. 

“C’monnn,” he groaned. I took my hand off of his dick and pushed him back, he almost stumbled, his legs still trapped in his half-removed jeans. I stood from the bed, spun us around and reversed our positions, then pushed him by the shoulders to sit.

“Patience, Jake, patience.” I flicked the front clasp of my bra open and felt the unrestrained relief as my tits spilled out, then that flutter of satisfaction as his eyes went wide right before going soft and dreamy. What can I say, Jake’s a breast man. “Aht.” He’d reached for them, lifted his hands like he just couldn’t wait to feel them again, but they paused in midair. “I said patience.”

He huffed out a sigh and dropped them, so I continued. Made a little show out of unzipping my boots, sliding them off and peeling the skin-tight material of my pants down my legs. His fingers flexed against his thighs the entire time, clenching into fists and releasing over and over. I waited until I was left in just the lacy thong to instruct him to remove his pants. 

His boots were kicked off and denim tossed away in an instant.

And there we were again. Jake, fully bared to me while we stared at each other, my tits out and pussy covered. But this wasn’t going to end the way it did two years ago. 

Not if I had anything to say about it.

I dropped to my knees and his legs spread, making room for me to kneel between them. His cock jumped when I touched him, just my fingertips, up his shins and over his kneecaps before I placed my palms flat on his thighs. When I peeked up at him through my lashes, he was staring hard, jaw clenched and nostrils flared again. So I continued to trace my fingers over his skin, further up his thighs, over his hips, up and down his happy trail. 

Through gritted teeth, “Baby, please.”

Baby? I was throbbing, slick between my thighs already but that hit me like lightning.

I wrapped a fist around him at the base and took him all the way to the back of my throat.

I had to. 

A string of rough curses fell from his lips and a hand tangled in my hair, but I kept my composure, sucking him in and stroking with my fist, letting him sink as deep as I could without choking. His skin was hot velvet on my tongue, I could taste his desire, his need, and I couldn’t help the moan that rippled up my throat around his cock.

“Jesus fuck.” His hips jerked, I gagged around him, he fisted the hair at the back of my head and yanked me off of him. “Get up here.”

Remember how I wanted to maintain the control here? Yeah, I failed. 

He used his grip on my head to bring my lips to his, his tongue sweeping in to dance with mine immediately, his hands moving down my body to pull me up and into his lap. I threw my arms around him and rocked into it instantly, his roving hands landing on my ass and pulling me in, his dick rock hard and slick with my spit grinding against my silk-covered pussy.

Just like that, I lost control of my insolent mouth too.

The kiss broke and I rested my forehead on his, my eyes trained on what was happening between our hips. “God… I-“ The head of his cock caught on my clit, I gasped at the feeling. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Embarrassing, I know. But then… ohh then.

His hands skimmed up my ribs until they were cupping my breasts, thumbs grazing over my nipples. 

“I’ve wanted you longer, T. Forever.”

Goosebumps. Literal goosebumps ran up my arms, I shivered, my nipples tightened, and he pulled one into his mouth. He sucked and lapped at it, thumb still moving over the other, and without hesitation he sunk his teeth in. 

“Fuck yes, yes yes…”

His tongue circled it again and he released it, pressed a hot and fast kiss to my mouth. 

“You still like that, huh?” He chuckled as he opened his lips over the other side. The silk between my legs was soaked, I could feel how easily I was sliding over his cock, and I was getting impatient despite the way I’d reprimanded him hardly ten minutes ago. 

“Jake, please…”

He popped off of my nipple and pulled another kiss from my lips, then leaned back and let one corner of his mouth curl up, self-satisfied and cocky.

Still an asshole. 

“Please what, baby? Tell me.”

My eyes rolled, even as he tucked his face into the crook of my neck, nipped and licked me there.

“I want you inside, please fuck me.” Self-control, out the window.

“Mmm,” he hummed into my skin, “No.”

Before I could be properly offended, and believe me, I was, he gripped my thighs and hauled me up, then deposited me onto the mattress. Well, tossed me, really. I bounced once, arms and legs flailing, hair falling in my face. By the time I pushed it away and propped myself up on my elbows, he was standing at the foot of the bed, dick in his fist. I opened my mouth to speak, to yell at him or beg him to stick it in, I don’t know, but he was stroking himself, and he moaned. My mouth snapped shut.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” I scoffed, offended, pissed even. “Yet.” He let himself go and placed his hands on the mattress, then climbed onto the edge of the bed and started crawling towards me.

It was so fucking hot. His cheeks were flushed, his hair wild from my hands, his eyes dark. I backed away, moving up the bed until my shoulders met the headboard. He didn’t stop coming, and I didn’t want him to. Instinctively, my knees bent and my legs fell open, inviting him in. But he didn’t settle there, when his hands reached me, he grabbed me by the calf and threw my leg over his shoulder on his way down. 

His mouth opened over damp silk and I cried out, his name or God’s, I’m not sure, but his lips and tongue were moving against me and I may have blacked out. I came to when one of his hands skimmed up my inner thigh, and he broke away long enough to slip two fingers under the material and tug it aside. 

Jake Kiszka’s tongue was on my actual, bare pussy. 

My shoulders sagged against the headboard as I reached for him, burying my fingers in his already tangled and unruly hair, our eyes met and he dragged his tongue over me again and again.

“Shit, you were right, this is better,” I panted. He smiled against my cunt and I felt it. I smiled too.

My cheeks hurt I was smiling so hard, until he laser-focused his attention to my clit. His lips wrapped around it and he sucked it past them, my jaw dropped. 

“Oh, oh my God, oh my God!” He was good at this. Too good. The beginnings of an orgasm were already swirling, tightening in my belly, making my toes tingle. The tip of his tongue moving against me until he opened his mouth over me again, and I felt it plunge inside me. The sounds I was making were unholy but I had no shame, I couldn’t feel anything other than need. I needed to scream, I needed to come, I needed him. 

He brought a hand up around my thigh and ran his thumb over my folds, licking himself as he lapped at me, then swirled it over my clit as his tongue fucked me. Before I could even moan, two fingers from his other hand replaced his tongue inside me.

“Jake!”

His head tilted and he pressed his lips against my thigh, kissed it and grinned. “Yes?” Fingers everywhere, filling me and fucking me, circling the most sensitive part of me - I forgot what I wanted to say, if I had even wanted to. Instead I pulled his mouth back, he slid his thumb away and flicked his tongue against me. 

“Yessss, yes just like that, please!” I let my eyes close and stars were already dancing behind my lids, I was close, so close, and I told him so. I moaned it and his fingers plunged deep and curled. I screamed it and he sucked my clit back into his mouth. 

I came hard, nails dug into his scalp, bucking my hips against his face, screaming his name. 

It was unreal. College guys had nothing, fucking nothing, on him.

Before my muscles had even relaxed, he lifted his head from between my thighs and moved up my body, his fingers still pumping slowly inside me as he kissed my hip, my stomach, my breast on his way up to my mouth. He tasted like me when my tongue touched his, and he eased his fingers from my body. 

“Absolutely fucking stunning, breathtaking.”

His breath was taken? I still couldn’t breathe, my chest continued to heave as he left the bed, taking my panties down my legs with him, and I could barely lift my head to see what he was doing. My eyes closed and I felt the mattress dip with his weight as he returned and settled on his heels between my legs, still splayed open. I cracked an eyelid and found him watching me, wrapped condom held between his fingers. 

Under his gaze, I shifted down until my head rested on the pillows, spreading my legs wider, pussy presented to him on a silver fucking platter.

This was happening. There was absolutely no way this was not happening. Not this time.

“Now, Jake.” Unrecognizable, my voice had a distinct sex kitten-like quality that I loved as soon as it hit my ears. He must have loved it too, because his dick twitched and he gripped it. I reached up and snatched the condom from his fingers, tore it open and started rolling it on while his eyes bugged out and his jaw fell slack.

“Jesus, not your first time, huh?” My hand replaced his around him and I stroked, he leaned over me and I guided the head to my center, moved it through the slick pool of arousal there. He paused, poised to enter me, and met my eyes.

“I’m pretty much out of firsts, Jake.”

His eyes closed, his hips rocked forward, and he pushed just past my opening, the tip not even fully inside me.

I tilted my own hips up, he slipped a fraction of an inch deeper. I whispered, and it was sexy, and seductive. “It could’ve been you.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, opened his eyes and we watched each other’s faces as he sunk deeper, slowly, to the hilt. “It should’ve been me.”

Stunned, speechless, we stayed like that. Unmoving, bodies connected, eyes locked. He broke first, dropping his lips to mine and rocking into me softly. A sound I’d never heard before, quieter than a moan, crept up his throat, trapped behind his lips as they caressed mine. My legs lifted, cradling him between my thighs and wrapping around him. 

It was gentle, sweet. The exact opposite of how I knew it would’ve been, if I’d let him be my first, thinking he wasn’t. 

I felt my cheeks warm, my eyes pool with tears. I blinked them away. This was everything I’d wanted and more. I knew I’d been an idiot to think otherwise. Especially when he pulled back and delivered a quick, deep thrust and there was no pain. Only pleasure bloomed inside me, hot and volatile. 

“Again, more…”

An excellent listener, he repeated it. Again, again, and I met each thrust with my own. Our kiss turned frantic, sloppy, lips and tongues clashing and pushing, pulling and taking. The temperature in the room was rising with the heat of our skin, our bodies slipping against each other. He lifted his chest from mine, hands braced on the pillows on either side of my head, and the conditioned air on our damp skin made us both groan in ecstasy.

I damn near came again, almost commented on it but he dropped back down and shoved an arm between me and the mattress, rolled us both. We laughed as we landed, his hair strewn across the pillow and mine falling in his face. My laughter stuck in my throat when he grabbed onto my thighs and pulled, tucking my knees against his hips and forcing me to sit. I propped myself up with my hands on his chest and fell back into the rhythm, my hips rolling. 

“Goddamn, you feel so good, look so good riding me.”

My head fell back as his words rippled through me, his fingertips digging into me, his hands moving my body over his. He brought one to my chest, squeezed me roughly, rolled my nipple with his fingers, pinched it. Hard.

“Yes!” He did the same to the other, my pussy clenched around him. 

“You like when it hurts a little, don’t you?”

“I- I don’t know, I guess so- ohhh!” He wrapped a hand around each tit and sunk his fingertips into my flesh, then kneaded them both, ran the pads of his thumbs over the peaks. 

“Fuck, that’s so hot. You’re fucking perfect.”

Yeah, I lost my mind a little bit. My hips bucked wildly in his lap. Perfect? Me? My nails pressed into his skin, I dragged them down his chest, reveling in the sharp hiss sucked between his teeth, the way his own hips lifted from the bed and he fucked into me. Sharp, fast thrusts hitting me so deep I was screaming his name. He sat up and pulled my face to his, kissed me hard, bit down on my bottom lip, and then tipped me backwards.

My head was nearly hanging off the end of the bed, but really, who cares? My ankles locked behind his back and he was slamming his hips into the back of my thighs.

Fuck, was I gonna come? He had to be close. I lifted my head, now very much hanging off the bed, to ask him.

Beep. Click.

His hips stuttered and paused, we both whipped our heads to the door, which was fucking opening. 

Josh appeared, his foot crossed the threshold and he was looking down at his phone. 

“GET OUT!!” We yelled in unison. Josh’s head popped up, his eyes went huge, and then he laughed. 

“Shit, sorry guys.” He started backing out into the hall, the door creaking closed. “About time,” We heard him chuckling to himself and the door clicked behind him.

Jake turned his face back to me and seemed to realize for the first time that I was barely on the mattress. An arm wrapped around my back and he shifted us until I could look him in the eyes.

“What the fuck…” I whispered up at him.

His smile was subtle and affectionate before it stretched to a full grin, and he huffed a laugh.

“There was no fucking way I was stopping.”

I matched his grin and lifted to pull a kiss from his lips. “Good.”

He tucked his face into my neck and began the roll of his body into mine again. I let my hands roam across his back as he kissed and nipped my skin and his thrusts picked up speed. The orgasm that had been teasing me before we were interrupted built again quickly, and Jake was panting in my ear. 

But then… then. A whisper. Low and deep, but a whisper nonetheless. 

My name, my real name, hit my ear and I gasped, right on the edge.

“Come for me. Please come for me.”

How could I say no?

It broke, crashed, consumed me. His name on my lips as I tightened, writhed, and shook for him. 

He didn’t stop, didn’t slow, he chased after me and followed into the flames. My name burned into my flesh by his kisses, a guttural groan as he came inside me. 

Easily the best orgasm I’d ever had. Easily.

Because he’s just a man, albeit an incredibly hot, multiple-orgasm-inducing man, he collapsed on top of me. I let him. I ran my hands over his sweat-dampened hair and the soft skin of his back and we both caught our breath. Then he started giggling. 

I pinched his ass. “What’s so funny, Kiszka?”

His head popped up and he propped himself on an elbow, a wide grin splitting his face in half, gorgeous. “I can’t believe we waited so long to do that, that might’ve been the best sex I’ve ever had.”

We both laughed as I slapped his chest. “Might be?!”

“Okay okay, you’re right.” He looked at me dreamily, his eyes bouncing around my face. “It was the best.”

Because I’m a woman, albeit a mind-blowing sex goddess, I started overthinking. I couldn’t help it! You should’ve seen the way he was looking at me. 

“Jake…” He lifted his eyebrows, I lifted a hand to his face, tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “What does this mean?”

Those eyebrows knitted together, a quick moment to think that over. Then he kissed me, soft and slow. 

“I don’t know what it means. But I do know this hotel has free breakfast downstairs, so be up and ready by nine.” His smile stretched again, and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Oooh, do you think they have French toast? That’s Sam’s favorite.”

He attacked me, tickled me until I had tears in my eyes, kissed me until I was breathless, and fell asleep with his arms around me.

The truth is, I don’t remember the exact moment I fell utterly, completely in love with Jake Kiszka. Maybe you should ask him.