#Do we want oblivious Danny who has no clue what he is actually doing?

[leafyeyes417]

Prompt: Danny goes to Gotham U for college. Whether or not it’s for engineering he has a tinkering habit when not busy with homework. He is also quite broke and doesn’t want to start dismantling the coffee machine in boredom. Slightly sleep deprived he goes around Gotham and unknowingly dismantles many of Joker’s traps. Including the ones that are supposed to go off if his heartbeat stops.

[kinglazrus]

Deep Wounds Ch. 1 - Who's to Blame?

Phic Phight | Next | AO3 | FFN

Submitted by @q-gorgeous: Identity reveal. Dash finds out Danny is Phantom. Could be swagger bishie or not, either or is okay.

Submitted by @aj-itated: Dash catches Danny changing after gym, and spots a huge (poorly stitched) wound on his side. Dash is now convinced Danny is either abused or part of a gang, and has no idea how to deal with either - or how to interact with Danny, now that he can't bully him.

Summary: Dash didn't mean to see it, not that it was his fault. If Danny didn't want anyone to notice the bloody mess on his side, then he shouldn't be checking his bandages in the middle of the boy's changing room. But it's too late, and Dash has no clue what to do now that he thinks Danny might be getting hurt at home.

Word count: 4253

“He’s gonna know.”

As Tucker's shadow falls over him, Danny starts, rudely yanked out of his daydream. The hand cradling his chin drops to his lap, fingers brushing the grass, and he fixes Tucker with a confused glare. "What?"

"You are super unsubtle," Tucker says. "He's gonna knooow."

Tucker and singsong aren’t two words Danny would normally use together, but it is the best way to describe the lyrical bounce in Tucker's voice as he drops onto the grass. Too bad his musical prowess seems limited to teasing jabs and not the screeching caterwaul Danny usually associates with Tucker and singing.

"What are you talking about?" Danny asks, his annoyance mounting.

"Oh, come on." Tucker leans back and sweeps his arm out to the field, motioning to the warm-up game some of their classmates are playing, which Danny had been watching fervently until he was interrupted. His gaze skims over the scuffle taking place over the ball, settles briefly on Dash lounging in front one of the nets, then goes back to Tucker.

"I don't know what you mean," Danny says.

"Tucker, be nice. Don't tease the oblivious," Sam cuts in. Sitting on Danny's left, she is flipping through a book rather than watches the scrimmage. How she got the book past Tetslaff, Danny has no idea. Magic, maybe. The more likely answer is that Tetsflaff saw it and just didn't care since Sam one of the best students in their class.

Danny could never get away with it, though. "Seriously. What are you guys talking about?"

"Oh, poor Danny." Tucker tsks and shakes his head. "In time, you, too, shall mature enough to understand your own emotions."

"I'm mature enough to ectoblast you in the face," Danny says.

"That is literally the exact opposite of mature."

"You're the exact opposite of mature."

"Game time!" Tetslaff's bellow cuts off what surely would have been a clever retort from Tucker. Her booming voice, powerful enough to challenge Danny's father's, echoes across the field and brings the scrimmage to a halt. At the far net, Dash rises to his feet and brushes the grass from his shorts.

"Captains!" Tetslaff calls. Valerie and Dash's hands shoot into the air, faster than anyone else's. Sam, still focused on her book, raises her hand half-heartedly, then lowers it to turn the page. No one else offers to be team captain, but Tetslaff doesn't seem to mind. This is how their classes usually go when they do team sports. "You know the drill. Pick your players, take your positions, and for heaven's sake, someone take Fenton."

Snickers break out through the class. Danny drops his face into his hands, muffling a groan against his palms.

He hates gym class for a lot of reasons. For one, sports aren't really his thing. He might be strong, thanks to his ghost half, but that doesn't make him any better at sports. Because of that, he's usually the last picked when it comes to games like soccer. And then there's Dash, who sucks sometimes, but he used to suck more. A lot more. He has mellowed out since freshman year, although he's not opposed to jostling Danny in the hallway now and then.

But the absolute worst thing about gym class is playing when he's injured; it doesn't happen often. Danny's been ghost fighting for nearly three years now, and he doesn't get hurt as much as he used to. Experience has wizened him up to the wonders of dodging. His enemies still get lucky sometimes, though, and last night, Technus got him good. Hacking and slashing isn't usually Technus' thing, but the rabid dishwasher the ghost sicked on Danny was damn good at it. He has the deep slash across his left side to show it.

It's healing well, but a wound like that needs more than a few hours before he is back in peak condition. Sam, whose house was closest after the fight, stitched Danny up as best as she could. Both she and Tucker had gotten good at that over the years, but for all Sam's skill, she was still just a high schooler who learned off YouTube tutorials. Before bed, Danny bound the wound tight, took a couple of Advil, and slept with an icepack slapped against his side.

It still hurts like hell, though.

A sharp whistle pierces Danny's thoughts. He winces at the noise, along with most of the class. Dash and Valerie, the victims of Tetslaff's ire, actually flinch.

"Baxter, Grey, stop bickering," Tetslaff says.

Caught up in his thoughts, Danny hadn't noticed their argument, but it's impossible to miss the tight anger in Valerie's crossed arms or the annoyance in Dash's glare.

"Baxter, Grey made her pick. Mr. Cheong goes with her." Tetslaff points at Kwan, then jerks her thumb toward Valerie. With a despondent sigh, Dash pats Kwan on the back, watching his best friend trudge to Valerie's team as if he was going to his grave.

"They're so dramatic," Danny says.

Tucker nods in agreement. "I know, right?"

Sam lowers her book to stare at them. "You cannot be serious."

"What did we say?" Danny asks.

Sam sighs and rolls her eyes but doesn't elaborate further.

Back on the field, Valerie gestures to the dwindling number of classmates yet to be claimed. "Your next pick," she says to Dash.

Dash scans the lineup, his gaze lingering on Danny for a few moments before skipping right over Tucker to Sam. "Manson, you're with me."

"Ugh, of course." Sam marks her page and passes the book to Danny. "You gonna be okay? How's your side?"

He holds back a grimace. "I'm good. I'll tell Tetslaff I'm sick or something so I can sit out."

Sam nods, satisfied, and joins Dash's team.

"Tucker!" Valerie calls.

"Good luck, dude." Tucker gently pats Danny's shoulder before stepping onto the field.

With his friends gone, and the rest of the class distracted by the team pick, Danny shuffles over to Tetslaff. "I don't really feel good. Can I sit out?"

Tetslaff looks him up and down. "You gonna throw up?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"You got a fever?" Before Danny can even answer, Tetslaff slaps her hand against his forehead. He flinches back, wanting nothing more than to peel her warm palm off his skin. She holds it there for a few seconds before finally drawing away. "No fever. got a doctor's note?"

"Uh... no? I've been at school all morning."

"If you feel like you're about to throw up, book it off the field. Otherwise, you're playing."

"But—"

"Fenton, do you really want to be the only kid in Casper High history to fail gym class?" Tetslaff asks.

The threat might have been more effective if Danny hadn't spent half his high school career one bad grade away from flunking out, but he doesn't have the energy to fight her on it. "Okay, Coach."

"That's the spirit! Now get out there and show me some hustle!" Tetslaff slaps Danny on the back. He bites back a cry of pain as he stumbles forward, one hand shooting to cradle his side. Tetslaff's hand, though broad, missed the actual injury, but the sheer impact made his bones rattle and his wound flair with pain.

"Okay," Danny mutters. Just stay out of Dash's way and move enough to escape Tetslaff ire. It can't be that hard. He presses a hand to his side, feeling the thick gauze through his shirt. Closing eyes so that no one sees them glow, he phases his palm through his shirt and ices over his injury. The numbing cold helps, somewhat, and it should hold up for the whole class.

"I can do this." He falters when he steps toward the field. It looks like Valerie and Dash finished picking their teams while he was busy with Tetslaff and the game is already underway. He hovers on the sideline, unsure where to go.

"Getting worked up already?" Valerie's voice startles him.

Danny flinches and twists toward her, sending a sharp twinge across his ribs. He hisses, regretting the sudden move, and squeezes his side once more.

"You okay?" Valerie asks.

"Just fine. Sorry, what did you say?"

"You look like you're stressed out already. It's just soccer."

Danny rolls his eyes and nudges her arm. "Sure. Tell me that when Dash's team is up by five and I have stop you from kicking his kneecaps in."

Valerie laughs, no denial falling from her lips. "Oh, please. We both know I'd go for the throat. You're with me, by the way."

"Oh, thank God."

"Don't kid yourself, Danny. We both know you'd love to be on Dash's team."

Danny's mind blanks for a moment, his cheeks growing hot against his will. "Uh... what? He literally used to beat me up every day."

"Keyword, 'used to.' And I never said you had good taste." Valerie shrugs. "Except for me, at least. But don't worry about it. Now come on; I want you on defence. You suck at scoring, but at least you can take a hit."

Danny hopes he doesn't need to.

—

No hits come his way, to Danny's immense relief. At least they are playing soccer and not football. Or floor hockey, God forbid. Danny's ankles still smart from the last time they played that. With soccer, there's not a whole lot of opportunity for Danny to get knocked around. Stuck on defence, he even has an excuse to hang back, hold off on all that "hustle" Tetslaff wanted to see. His teammates charge up and down the field, shouting and jeering as they fight over the ball, and Danny gets to trail behind, halfway between the throng and his team's net. He spends most of his time watching Dash. Purely so that he's ready if Dash decides to go after him, not for any other reasons.

"Suuure that's the reason," Tucker says when he notices Danny staring.

"It is!" Danny's protest falls on deaf ears.

Dash catches Danny's gaze more than once. Rather than looking away, Danny can't resist offering a shit-eating grin and a friendly wave every time. If he had any self-preservation skills, he would stop immediately. But there's a reason he's half-ghost now, and it's definitely not because of his critical thinking skills.

He manages to stay out of the action, for the most part, only rushing in when the ball comes close to him. Otherwise, Tucker and Elliot handle the rest. Tucker knowingly spares him the pain of ripping his stitches. Elliot, meanwhile, likes to swoop in at every opportunity to show Danny up. It might have gotten a rise out of Danny any other day, but right now, when his side throbs every time he takes a step, Elliot is welcome to do whatever he wants.

When they have class outside, Danny can't tell how much time is left. He guesses they are about halfway through, and nothing bad has happened yet. Maybe he can get through this, after all.

That's when he jinxes himself.

"Heads up!" Valerie's warning shout comes just in time. Danny ducks instinctively, hissing when his injury pulls. The soccer ball flies over his head, skimming the top of his hair. Then, Dash collides with Danny, his shoulder digging into Danny's side. He cries out as he goes sprawling, hands shooting to his side. It burns, searing across his ribs, almost as bad as when he first got the wound. The pain makes his head spin and his breath ragged.

He must blackout for a moment, because one second his face is pressed against the cool grass, and then suddenly he's staring up into Tetsalff's concerned face, Valerie, Sam, and Tucker hovering behind her.

"Deep breaths, Fenton," Tetslaff says.

It would be great advice if breathing didn't make his chest expand, and his chest expanding didn't make the gash on his side strain against the few stitches that hadn't popped when Dash rammed into him at full speed. What the hell. That was such a dick move.

"Okay, Fenton. You're out for the rest of the class. Go to the nurse if you need to," Tetslaff says.

He nods but makes no move to get up. He doesn't know if he can.

Tetslaff sees his plight, whether she understands the reason for it or not, and barks over her shoulder. "Baxter! Your fault, your problem. Help Fenton inside."

"We can take him," Tucker says. At the same time, Dash whines, "Come on, Coach. There's no way I hit him that hard."

Tetslaff sticks out an arm, holding Sam and Tucker back. "Get to it, Baxter."

Dash groans but relents and steps into Danny's field of view. Rather than kneeling, or doing anything actually helpful, he bends down a little and sticks out his hand.

Danny stares at it.

"Well? You're holding up the game, Fenton."

Danny almost gets up on his own, just to spite Dash, but the second he tries to lever himself up, his side screams, and Danny has to bite back another cry of pain. Reluctantly, he grabs Dash's hand. Dash hauls him upright, far from gentle, and sets Danny down on his feet. Dash starts forward, but Danny hangs back.

"Hurry up," Dash says.

"Just... hold on a second." Danny squeezes his eyes shuts and clamps his hands against his side. The pressure helps, a little. If he's bleeding, it'll at least hide the evidence. He really hopes he put enough gauze on the wound. He didn't exactly think he'd be dealing with this today when he wrapped it.

"Dude, we can take you," Tucker says. He and Sam haven't moved away. Even Valerie still hovers close by, giving Danny a concerned look over his friends' shoulders.

"Manson, you're team captain until Dash gets back. Foley." Tetslaff shakes her head. "Your grades aren't much better than Fenton's here. Let's go, back on the field. It's game time.

"But—"

"It's fine, guys." Danny tries to smile, but he is sure it comes out like a grimace instead. Neither of them look like they believe him.

"Ms. Tetslaff!" Valerie steps in front of the teacher. "Danny's on my team. I want to make sure he's okay. Kwan can take over as captain for me."

"Okay, fine. Now let's get back to the game, people!" Tetslaff puts a hand on Sam and Tucker's shoulder each and pushes them toward the field. Over her shoulder, Sam mouths "Thank you" at Valerie.

"Can we just hurry up?" Dash says. Before Danny is ready, Dash's hand clamps down his shoulder and starts driving him forward. Danny stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet, and is forced to open his eyes or else go tumbling all over again. Valerie appears on his injured side, walking fast to keep up with Dash's pace.

"Are you okay?" she asks. She reaches toward Danny, but holds back, her gaze flitting down to the hand over his ribs.

"Yeah, totally fine. I, uh, got caught up in that ghost fight yesterday, got a little bruised," he says.

"You should have told Tetslaff. She would have let you sit out," Valerie says.

"Yeah, I should have." Too bad Danny hadn't thought of that lie before. And it wasn't even a lie, technically.

The walk to the gym doors feels much farther than it did at the start of class. Dash yanks the door open once they're close enough and deposits Danny on the nearest bench. "There, you're fine. Whatever."

"Don't be such a dick, Dash," Valerie says.

Danny wobbles, bracing himself against the wall as he sits down. While Valerie helps, grabbing his arm and keeping him steady, Dash doesn't make a move.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks.

"Yeah. I'm just gonna sit for a bit."

"If you say so." With one last concerned glance, Valerie leaves the gym.

Danny sits, one hand pressed against his side, feeling the deep, pulsing ache that won't leave. The ice he applied earlier hasn't faded yet, but if Danny's stitches are ripped as he suspects, a little numbing cold won't help for much longer.

Dash clears his throat, reminding Danny that he hasn't left yet.

"What?" Danny glares at him through half-lidded eyes.

"Sorry, or whatever. I thought you were gonna move, okay?"

"You sure sound sorry."

Dash bristles. "Whatever, Fenton. I was trying to be nice, but I guess I'll just fuck off then."

"Yeah, you do that."

Dash stomps out of the gym without looking back, slamming the door behind him. The bang echoes through the empty room. Alone at last, a whimper slips through Danny's lips. You would think that, over the years, he would get used to getting injured so much, learn to adjust to the pain. Whoever first said that was such a liar. It never stops hurting. Dizzying pain is dizzying pain no matter how often you experience it.

Danny sits for a few minutes, breathing slow and even, bracing himself for what he knows is coming. Peeling his hand away from his side, he checks his shirt. Faint pink splotches greet his eyes, not a lot, but enough to make him groan. He reaches under his shirt, slipping his fingers underneath the bandages, and probes the tender skin. His fingers come away slick and red.

"Shit." He applies a fresh coat of ice, enough to seal over the wound, and pushes himself off the bet, slick hand sliding against the wood. The entrance to the boys' changeroom lies only a few feet away, but it feels farther. He shuffles inside, bracing one hand against the wall. The hall leading in stretches for a good ten feet before cutting into a sharp right angle and opening into the main room.

The silence inside is just as oppressive as the quiet of the gym. Even though it's the middle of the school day, being here without the chatter of other boys as they change feels odd.

Danny lets himself slump onto the bench, breathing heavily

"I'm gonna kill Dash," he says to the empty room. But knowing his luck, Dash would come back as a ghost and haunt the hell out of him. It seems like the kind of asshole thing he would do

Danny fumbles for his bag, hooking his finger around the strap and dragging it close. It takes him a minute of digging to find his phone, which he stuffed inside at the start of class. He quickly checks the time. There are ten minutes left of class. More than enough time to check his side and get patched up before Tetslaff dismisses everyone to get changed.

The smart thing would be to go into one of the showers, make sure he has complete privacy, but he doesn't want to put in the effort of walking that far.

"It'll be fine," Danny says and gets to work

—

Dash doesn't return to the game. As the gym door slams beside him, he leans against the wall and stares down at his shoes. Outside, he looks composed, but in his head, his thoughts tumble about. He can't shake the image of Valerie's glare. Fenton couldn't take a hit, so what? It's not like Dash actually didanything. He's gotten Fenton a lot worse than that before. It's not his fault the guy was already banged up from some dumb ghost fight. Not his problem.

And yet, the pained cry as Dash bowled Danny over, the sight of his crumpled body on the grass... it makes Dash shudder.

"I apologized," he says. There's no one around to hear it, to justify him. He wonders what his therapist will say about this, if Dash bothers mentioning it at their next appointment.

Valerie's glare flashes through his mind again.

"Okay, fine!" He throws his arms up and shoves away from the wall. One quick moment to check on Danny, then he'll return to the game. He's only doing this so that his therapist doesn't give him that look on Monday; the look that isn't quite disappointed, because she could never be disappointed in one of her clients, but comes pretty damn close.

Dash only receives that look when he does something dumb, like shoving nerds in lockers or taking his anger out on someone else.

Dash eases the door to the gym back open and peeks inside. The bench he left Danny on is empty. A smear of red stands out against the pale wood. Dash creeps inside, closing the door quietly behind him. His heart sinks as he nears the bench, and comes to the unmistakable conclusion: blood.

Not my fault, Dash reminds himself. It does little in the way of reassurance. Walking briskly, he heads for the doors leading further into the school. If Danny is bleeding, he must have gone to the nurse. Which means he will be fine, but Dash needs to be sure.

A low groan stops him in his tracks.

For a moment, he thinks he imagined it, but then it comes again, accompanied by a pained hiss. The sound comes from the changing room. Holding his breath, he turns from the door and enters the changeroom.

Short, sharp breaths greet him, growing louder as he nears the main room. A shaky whimper cuts through, followed by a gasp.

Dash peeks around the corner. He sees Danny's shirt first, discarded on the bench. Next to it is a pile of wrappings. It looks like the ace bandages Dash uses whenever he gets a sprain, although he doesn't remember seeing Danny wearing any. And then, he looks to Danny himself and pales.

One arm drawn back, head tilted forward to see his side, Danny peels a stained gauze pad away from his bloody ribs. Suddenly, Dash can't breathe. His throat feels clogged. His heart hammers in his ear. The gash in Danny's side is easily the length of Dash's hand. It rips across his ribs and curves up toward his armpit, ending just under his arm. Dash doesn't know much about first aid, but the stitches holding the wound together look sloppy. They pull in different directions, turning what appears to be a clean cut into a wobbly mess. Around it, Danny's skin is stained red. Blood seeps between the stitches.

A few small drops slide down Danny's exposed skin as Dash watches, pooling briefly against the waistband of his gym shorts before they are absorbed

"Fuck," Dash whispers.

Danny jumps back, spinning mid-air to face Dash. In his horror, Dash doesn't think to question the impossibility of that action. Danny drops the gauze pad, which lands bloody side down on the floor, and clamps his arm down over the injury.

"What are you doing?" Danny's voice hitches, caught between an accusing growl and a startled squeak.

Dash gapes, mouth opening and closing as he searches for something to say. His mind comes up blank. "Danny, what... what the hell? What happened to you?"

Dash's voice seems to snap Danny out of his shock. All at once, his body goes rigid and his expression turns cold. "Get out."

"You need to go to the nurse!"

"DASH!" Danny bellows.

Dash stumbles back, falling against the wall. Tetslaff's laugh voice is loud. Jack Fenton's voice booms. But just now, Dash felt the floor shake under his feet. Danny's voice rumbled in Dash's chest, knocked him off his feet. The whole school must have heard it, they had to.

"I won't say it again. Get the hell out right now," Danny says.

Dash obeys. Whether it's out of fear or a genuine desire to follow Danny's will, he can't tell. He books it out of the changeroom, across the gym, and bursts outside, only to come face to face with Kwan and the rest of the class.

"Whoa!" Kwan reels back in surprise. "You missed the rest of the game. Val's team won."

"Oh, the game. Right." Dash takes a deep breath, struggling to get himself under control.

"So... you gonna let us in?"

Dash doesn't move.

"Get out of the way, Dash," Valerie says. Pushing to the front of the group, she tries to shove past him.

Dash leaps in front of her. "No!" He can't let anyone else see Danny.

"Dude, not cool. We want to check on Danny," Tucker says.

Dash wavers. Danny's friends have to know what's up with him, right? There is no way he could have stitched that up himself, not with how much struggle it took to even look at the injury. When Tucker and Sam slip by Dash, he makes no move to stop them. Their entrance opens the floodway, and soon enough everyone is pushing past Dash into the gym.

"Wait!" He latches on to Kwan's arm as his best friend passes.

"Did something happen?" Kwan asks.

Dash swallows, unsure how to answer. "Sort of?" Now isn't the right time to tell Kwan, though, not with their classmates around them, and the rest of their friends absent.

"Let's go get changed." Kwan pats Dash's shoulder and guides him forward. Every step closer to the change room, Dash's anxiety mounts. Danny reacted so poorly to one person finding him. Dash can only imagine what will happen—what stricken look Danny will wear—when half their class walks in on his shirtless and bloody.

Except, when they turn the corner into the change room proper, Danny isn't there. His stuff is gone, too. Tucker's crumpled gym shirt covers the spot where the gauze pad landed. There are no signs Danny was there at all.

Next

[ecto-american]

I was doing some research for a fanfiction, and remembered this line from Reality Trip, which got my criminal justice self all excited because of the implications. So have some analysis from a rambling autistic with a criminal justice degree.

“Daniel Fenton, in accordance with the Federal Anti-Ecto Control Act, Article 1, Section 1, Sub-section A, you're under arrest.”

Y'all, this is kinda wack? It means, on some level, there has been a federal judgment within the world of Danny Phantom that not only acknowledges that ghosts exist, but has an entire fucking act describing specifically the course of action in a sense. Lots of acts will kind of be this vague overarching thing with various random acts thrown into it, but the name along with the article one, section one subsection a dealio implies that this entire act focuses on ghosts. I say act and not law btw, because those terms are not necessarily synonyms.

Not only does this confirm that there are acts (at least one anyway) in Danny Phantom that specifically talk about ghosts, but kind of really and truly cements that the Guys in White are actually a federal government agency, rather than them simply acting as one but really being a private company of sorts or being some local state government program.

And with laws about ghosts, it means that legally, the government had to define what exactly a ghost is as well as their rights and lack of rights, and that they legally acknowledge, as a nation, that ghosts exists. While, of course, we don’t really ever get to see this act, and as far as I know, it’s literally Never talked about again, this scene means that this act applies to Danny. For a quick refresher, this happens after Danny is exposed, and so this act still applies to Danny despite him being outted as a half ghost. A scary sidenote is before this scene and line of dialogue, the agents told Danny that he was coming in for questioning and experiments.

So what might it possibly say? If there are any acts that we can potentially base what this act possibly would say, I would probably guess it’d be similar to the acts used for minorities within the United States. And I say these kinds of acts because they’re specifically acts that discriminate towards a group, and that have used various reasons to justify how they are not human, citizens or have any legal rights. If the agents’ lines were correct, these acts probably gave them justification for doing inhumanly cruel things to Danny.

Of course, Danny could be arrest for something totally different and not for some anti-ghost reasons. At this point in time, he’s still kind of half-loved, half-hated publicly as people are shown to still believe that he stole during the events of Control Freaks and the mayor incident of Public Enemies, but if he was under arrest for any of those crimes, the agents would have said that. And I refuse to believe this is an oversight of the writers, because they would have found any nitpicky thing and made it a funny situation where the agents went on and on and on about this endless list of crimes that the ghost boy has committed until Danny roundhouse kicked somebody. And no, it’s likely not because the Guys in White are only interested in Ghost Crimes. As federal officials, which they are confirmed to be, they would have arrested him for everything and have to basically fistfight the other government agencies investigating his Non Ghost Crimes.

So what exactly is he under arrest for? No clue obviously, and it’s hard to really even guess. Article 1, Section 1, Sub-section A for most acts are basically describing what the act’s going to be before it moves on to detail that. I think this is an oversight of the DP writers, lord knows we get enough of them, but it could also potentially highlight the Dumb factor of the Guys in White that we would see them sometimes exhibit, where instead of properly referencing the piece of legislation he’s under arrest for, they just blurt out the first section of that law.

And who wrote this act? It could be anybody, of course. Anybody within politics. It also begs the question as to exactly when this act was written and when it was put into effect. I’d wager it heavily depends on when the Guys in White came into effect, as they are clearly acting under these laws. Which begs the question: how many pieces of anti-ghost legislation are there? Who’s writing them? There’s potential that there are literally lawyers who are literally experts in ghost law. Keep in mind that in the beginning of the series, there was a lot of skepticism that ghosts even exist.

This honestly leads me to propose a new headcanon: The Guys in White are a very new government organization that spawned after the events of Public Enemies. To preface this and clarify, in order, the Guys in White appear in only five episodes: Million Dollar Ghost, Double Cross My Heart, Reality Trip, Eye for an Eye, and Livin’ Large.

Evidence to support this theory:

They only show up four episodes later in their first appearance in Million Dollar Ghost. Public Enemies seems to also be the first episode in the series that shows a massive onslaught of ghost attacks. I would guess that this is the ghostly event that probably spawned the act in question, which may have called for the organization of the Guys in White. Prior to this, ghosts were basically shown that they’re unconfirmed to exist on a public level. Even Jack, our lovable and excitable ghost hunter who’s been doing this since his college years admits in Mystery Meat that he’s never seen a ghost until that point. Jazz mentions that Harriet Chin in Bitter Reunions lost her job for writing an article about ghosts because she was laughed for writing about something that was more for “the national enquirer”, a conspiracy theory newspaper that nobody really takes seriously.

Why are they there during the events of Million Dollar Ghost anyway? If they’re a new organization, they may need that money or are cashing in on the publicity of the event to spread their name, or they’re just starting out and have no real clue where else to go. Only two of them even showed up anyway. The only other groups there are very small ghost hunting groups: literally two young adults on scooters, another set of young adults with a tiger fueled by anxiety and a van, and FentonWorks. And while they, out of all of them, clearly have the most advanced technology, they’re about on the same skill level as the other ghost hunters (getting captured and tricked and such just as easily). Danny even was just as “haha” about them as he was the other hunters who had showed up.

Their technology in Million Dollar ghost is nothing in comparison to the literal jetpacks and planes and four wheelers and armor they get several episodes later. Their funding increased when they proved ghosts exist and more ghostly events happened, and they likely proved their competence in some way. Especially when we see that they have been catching other ghosts (like Skulker in Double Cross My Heart and Lydia in Reality Trip) and gathering important information on ghostly artifacts (Reality Trip).

It would explain why they don’t really show up that often in the series, especially during major ghost events where they really should be there, such as the ghost king invasion of Reign Storm. They may have not secured the funding or manpower to really do anything just yet. Note that Reign Storm happened in between Million Dollar Ghost and Double Cross My Heart, which is almost a 20 episode gap. Their skills, knowledge, ability, technology and apparent funding jumped massively between these episodes, and it kind of stays about the same consistency for the rest of the show.

They really only seem to have one department, and they have really low employee numbers for a government agency. There’s no talk or implications or having multiple departments or anything, such as research or technology. Even during the SWAT invasion during Reality Trip, there’s only like twenty or so agents there. In Livin’ Large, there’s only about seven there, and two are the Agent K and O that we know. They play a lot of roles, from researching, questioning, gathering information, tracking down criminals, getting information from the Fenton’s lab, technology things in FentonWorks, etc. Of course, this is a staple for many law enforcement jobs where you have many tasks, but they seem to be playing the role of detective, computer analysis, and police officer at minimum given the wide variety of things we see them do. As somebody who’s worked in three situations where the company/program was very new, it’s incredibly common for a new company that’s still finding it’s groundings to have a very blurred job line. Or they’re heavily underfunded, but look at the goddamn jetpacks they get, look me in the eye and tell me they’re underfunded.

The lack of basic ghost information. In Livin’ Large, they want to destroy the Ghost Zone. It’s apparently very obvious that you Can’t Do That, but the Guys in White seem oblivious. While you can argue that they’re just fucking dumb, it may be more reasonable to assume that they simply just don’t know.

There’s no dialogue (that I can find) prior to Million Dollar Ghost to suggest they exist. There’s also no dialogue from Vlad, who would have known and been wary of such an organization had it been around for years, to suggest that they’ve been around a while. Jack, who also is open about how much he admires them, would have likely said something to. But I am willing to chalk this entire part up to simply poor writing.

“But Danny knew who the Guys in White were when they showed up in Million Dollar Ghost!” Yeah. He also knew who the other people were, and I heavily doubt that they’d be as big of a deal or name as the Official government branch. It’s very likely that they all introduced themselves when they showed up.

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Eidolon 4 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary:  AU: What started off as the result of a simple act of rebellion ends up causing his life to spin out of control. How will young Danny cope with the results as well as a past that has a strange habit of coming back to haunt him.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, kidnapping, and various other things

Parings: hints of Danny/Sam much later on

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr

4. Paper Trails

Is it possible to truly call the mess someone creates in a desperate search for an object a natural disaster? If so, his study had come as close to the definition as humanly possible; books had been torn off their shelves, drawers had been removed and dumped on the floor, decorative items had been thrown haphazardly around the room and he was seriously debating on whether or not he should attempt to lift the furniture. He had, after all, already knocked over one of the end tables.

He just didn't understand it. The one time he needed that letter, it was absolutely nowhere to be found! But, that was what made it so strange… Unless he needed it, he kept it within a metal box that sat in the bottom drawer of his desk, right now, even the box was missing! How was he going to prove he had a valid claim to the issue at hand without it?

A noise took his thoughts away from his search. He glanced up to see Danny standing in the doorway, giving him a worried glance. "Uh… Winston, are you alright?" he asked cautiously as he carefully came in the room a few steps. "And you say my room's a mess…"

A sheepish grin crossed his face as he picked up his chair. "I'm fine… I'm just trying to find a paper I need for a meeting later tonight."

"Do… you need any help?"

"No, not really… I should be fine on my own." He then glanced at his young charge, who seemed to relax at the statement. He was confused for a moment until he realized the boy kept glancing at the clock that somehow still managed to be in its place on the wall. "That's right; you're going out today…"

Danny nodded as a relieved expression appeared on his face. "Yeah, I'm supposed to meet Sam and Tucker soon."

"Be careful, alright?"

"I know, I know…"

He sighed as he carefully stepped over his mess so he could put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I can't help that I'm worried, especially after what happened on Sunday…"

At that statement, the boy violently knocked away his guardian's hand. "Nothing happened!" he nearly shouted. "How many times do I have to say that to you?"

Danny glared at him as he tried to figure out how to defuse the situation. Even though Danny denied anything happened, the actual problem was obviously something had. Winston knew Danny had experienced real fear on Sunday and whatever it was, it had to have been traumatic, or else his constant denials wouldn't make much sense. It worried him. What could possibly have scared the boy so much in his own home?

Something else bothering him was the fact Danny had gotten violently ill shortly after dinner that night. Although, it could have just been a delayed response (to the fear but), it really had seemed… well, almost random. The boy was shaking severely once he had gotten control of his stomach, and he seemed unusually cold to the touch. Now that he actually thought about it more, the shaking might have been actual shivers from being cold. That definitely wasn't normal, and if it wasn't for the fact that he had felt better the next morning, Winston would have taken him to the doctor's, which was something he tried to avoid.

"Danny…" he said slowly. Within how tense the boy was, he knew he had to be careful with his words. It would not help either of them if he unintentionally pushed him away. "All I'm asking is that you take it easy today. You might be fine, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm worried about you."

"Whatever," he huffed as he turned back towards the door. Although it wasn't the best response, it told him that, thankfully, there was no added stress to the shaky situation. "I have to get going."

Winston smiled as he turned back to the warzone that was formally his desk. "One thing before you go," he added as an afterthought. "I might not be home when you come back tonight. If you're not feeling well, don't hesitate to come back here. And, as long as you leave this room alone, you can bring your friends in if you like."

That caught the boy's attention. "Really?"

"Really. Have fun. I have to get back to this… uh, search…" A frown crossed his features as he glanced down at the mess. Again, how could a heavy metal box go missing?

He barely heard Danny's reply as he tried to figure out where he should search next. Time was running out, and there was still no sign of it. But, trying to search on sheer panic without a plan was not doing him any good. Although he did not want to, he decided to give himself a few moments to reorganize his thoughts.

The obvious place to restart was the desk, where it should have been in the first place. There had to be some sort of clue to what happened to it in there. Yet, as he looked, he happened to notice a folded piece of paper around the same area where the box had been. It was odd because he rarely, if ever, folded any of his paperwork, especially anything placed in that desk. What was even stranger was the fact it had his name written on it, almost like it was a letter. Curious, he opened it.

….

Time just seemed to stand still as he just stared at the letter. It… it had to be some type of sick joke! There was no way that that thing could possibly be in town, let alone have found a way into the house. He had kept track of reports from their previous hometown, and no one had seen it for years! There weren't even any reports from neighboring locations. It just disappeared after it had destroyed everything.

But, if it was in town, why was it here? Why was it targeting him? Wait… When it had first attacked all those years ago, it seemed to have a specific target… But, weren't they dead? Could it now be after…? "Oh, no…!" he whispered as he got up and sprinted towards the front door. "Danny!" he shouted as he tried to find some sort of evidence he was still in the house, but there wasn't any.

A glance at the clock told him that it had been some time since he had last spoken to the boy. How did he loose that much time? Even though Danny was probably nowhere nearby, he threw open the front door and tried calling for the boy again anyways. There was no answer, but that did not mean much. Danny was probably fine, but oblivious to the danger that had reemerged. It wasn't his fault either, Winston hadn't wanted to say anything about it until his upcoming birthday, but he was seriously regretting that decision now. That thing… that monster could be stalking its prey at the moment.

Without a second though, he grabbed his keys and hurried to his car. Sure, there was that meeting he needed to attend, but that was going to have to be rescheduled. Danny's safety was far more important to him than trying to prove to a bunch of busybodies he had a right to take care of the boy.

And in truth, he wasn't too sure what he was going to when he finally managed to find Danny. Was he going to tell the boy what was wrong? Or, was, again, going to leave crucial information out? He would decide that later. Right now, his major concern was to just to make sure he was still okay.

xxxxxxx

"Uh… Dude, are you sure you're okay?" Tucker asked as he watched him finish his second pop in less than five minutes.

He gave his friend a sheepish grin as he debated on whether or not he was going to need another refill. "Yeah… as soon… as I can completely… catch my breath." Although he knew it was probably among the stupidest things he could have done, he ran all the way from his home to the Nasty Burger, which Tucker had promised tasted a lot better than it sounded. His little chat with Winston had taken surprisingly longer than he thought it would, which didn't help the fact he was already running late.

A chuckle from Sam caught his attention. "This wouldn't happen if you were in better shape…" Even if she was poking fun at him in a friendly way, the comment still got under his nerves a little. Sure, he wasn't the most muscular of people, but he certainly wasn't fat. So, instead of trying to say anything back to her, he decided to take the moment to get another refill.

"So, ignoring my problems," Danny told them a few minutes later as he sat back down. "Did you guys actually find out anything?"

"Surprisingly, I did… and I'm not too sure that it's a good thing. Here, take a look."

Ignoring the fact it seemed that Tucker's pockets held their own separate dimension since there was no way they were big enough to completely hold his PDA and his other gadgets, he glanced at the article currently on the machine's screen. Though it wasn't a very large article, the content seemed to be rather troubling. "Wh-what is this?" His voice was quiet as he looked at both of his friends for some sort of answer.

"Right now, I'm not too sure," Tucker replied as he took back his PDA. "There's really not much information on it, but from what I can tell, that picture is very similar to a series of sketches drawn a few hundred years ago. But the thing is, they were all drawn for (or by) this cult that seemed to worship demons."

He could feel his eyes widen in disbelief. "You… You're not serious, are you?"

"Unfortunately, that's not the worst of it," Sam continued as Tucker nodded solemnly. "It's a little obscure, but apparently that group was trying to create a specific demon-the one depicted on the drawing we found. There were really no details on how they planned on doing that, thank goodness, but there was some reference that it deals with some sort of curse…."

Now, that made him laugh, which caused his friends to stare at him. "A curse?" he asked as he calmed down a bit. "Don't you think that's a little much? You actually had me going for a bit."

"Danny, this isn't a laughing matter!" Sam nearly yelled as Tucker tried to keep her from standing up. "Whether or not this story is true is not the actual problem. The problem is we found something tied to a potentially dangerous occult belief right after you were chased by… whatever that thing was! Don't you see some sort of connection here?"

He snorted. "Sam, do you really think that whoever that guy was belongs to this cult and wanted to sacrifice me or something? Hasn't that sort of thing been proven to be nothing but an urban legend? Besides, finding that paper was probably nothing but a coincidence."

"Actually, I'm not too sure it is." Tucker's voice brought both he and Sam away from the staring match that had begun after he had finished speaking. "I mean, the information on that picture was hard to find, so I don't really think too many people would know about it."

"But, couldn't someone have just drawn that picture without really knowing about that story? Plenty of people are interested in the occult and other spooky stuff, so there's no telling what one of them might have come up with."

"I'd actually side with you, if it wasn't for the type of paper that it's on."

"What do you mean?"

Sam sighed rather impatiently. "Don't you remember what I said when we found it? Like it felt more like canvas? Well, I actually took it down to one of the art supply stores I occasionally go to hoping that they might have some idea what it was, but they didn't know! They told me that it didn't look like anything they had seen before… well, until the one said that it somewhat reminded him of animal leather, which really freaked me out. How could someone do that to an animal?"

From there, she quickly began to rant about animal cruelty until Tucker interrupted her by calling her name. After a moment, she realized what she was doing and adopted a sheepish expression. "Anyway," she continued, "the point here is that it's highly unlikely many people would be able to get their hands on that type of material, and since it did seem really old, maybe we do have something here."

Danny crossed his arms as he considered her words. "So, if there is a connection here, what do you suppose we do?" It wasn't really like he was completely convinced about this whole 'occult' story, but he was certain that there was some sort of deranged freak stalking his favorite haunt. That by itself was a cause for alarm.

"We could go to the police…"

"Please, Sam, If we go up to an officer and say 'Hey, when we were in the cemetery at night, we were chased by this creepy thing that we think belongs to a demon-worshiping cult', he'll probably either laugh at us or check us for drug possession."

"It was just a suggestion, and I don't see you coming up with anything better!"

"Calm down! Do you want to draw attention to us?" Tucker warned them as he carefully glanced around the building. That act caused him to look around too, and indeed, there were a few people that had decided to look their way.

It really was the first time he had paid attention to the other people in the restaurant. Surprisingly, there were a lot of other teenagers there, and he guessed that the majority of them went to the same school as Sam and Tucker. For a moment, he felt a bit of jealousy towards them. For practically his entire life, he had been kept away from the world, and now that he could finally touch its fringes, he felt himself wanting more of it. In truth, he just didn't understand why his friends talked so badly about it.

Though he could probably ponder about it more, he pulled himself back into the argument that had now started between Sam and Tucker that did not seem to do anything with the unknown madman who was starting to make president in their lives.

xxxxxxxx

It was starting to grow dark, and Winston still had absolutely no idea where Danny could be. It was probably his fault, since until this particular moment; he hadn't seen the point of giving the boy anything like a cell phone. And, it didn't really help that part of his attention was drawn away by a rather annoying social worker that could not seem to understand he was trying to reschedule his appointment.

"For the last time, I will gladly reschedule for next week," he told the woman as civilly as he could. He knew that driving while speaking on his cell was not a smart move on his part, but he could honestly care less. Trying to find Danny was way more important than obeying any laws. "But, Ma'am, I was just alerted to a family emergency. Right now, that is more important to me than this meeting. Tomorrow, or even later tonight, if you want, I'll call you to fill you in on the situation, but right now, I need to go. Have a good night."

The tone in his voice seemed to finally get through to the woman, and she did agree that he could call later. Happy to finally be off the phone with her, he glanced down for a moment to slide his phone into a cup holder so that he could easily grab it later. When he looked back up, he immediately slammed on his breaks and turned the wheel.

His breathing was heavy as his car came to a stop. Thankful that there were no other vehicles on the street, he glanced over to see what the damage might be. Yet… there was nothing there! Confused, he got out of his car so that he could better survey the location.

It was so strange. He could have sworn that he had seen some sort of figure standing out in the road, but as he looked, there was absolutely no sign of any living thing. Even the buildings that were around him were broken down and empty. Now that he thought about it, how did he even get into this part of town? He didn't remember coming here… and it was unlikely that Danny would be in the area, especially if he was with friends…

A chill suddenly ran down his back, and he knew he was being watched. Now aware he was in an incredibly open position, he moved closer to his car. The most logical thing to do would be to get back into his car, quickly leave the area, and go back to his search, but something told him that whatever was watching him would not let him escape so easily.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" a civilized voice asked in a way that made his blood run cold. He knew that voice; there was no way that he would ever have been able to forget it. Even though he didn't have to look to know it was there, but he did anyway. It would have made him face it eventually, so there was no use in trying to avoid it.

On a first glance, the average person would probably describe the figure floating above him as a vampire, and although there was a similarity, it was a wrong assumption. In fact, the creature was something anyone would never expect to be solid, appear in the daylight (even if it was fading), or even have the ability to hurt someone. It was a ghost.

===================

Notes: 1) Pop = soda. Grew up in southwestern PA, and we tend to say 'pop'. This might come up again, so I just wanted to put that translation out there.

2) When Danny says that sacrificial cults are an urban legend, that's supposedly true. According to US criminal history, while there have been murderous cults, there is no evidence of any sacrificial murders related to cults. Whether that's true or not, is up to debate, but that's the official standpoint in the US. Although, you can argue the “Order of the Solar Temple” did this, but that was in Canada. 

[evonymus]

Deadly Premonition 2

Everything I write here is just my opinion. I don't try to represent someone else's  thoughts and feelings. I fully understand that tastes differ and things I dislike may be enjoyed by others and vice versa. By writing this I don't try to attack anyone who has different opinion about the game. This text will have spoilers, so don’t read it if you haven’t beaten the game yet. It’s a lot of rambling that is not really structurized or anything, just a big collection of thoughts. Strong language is used.

Gameplay-wise the game seemed pretty meh. I fully realize it may feel very different if you actually play it instead of watching, the feeling of completion, getting stuff done and all that sorta thing. Still, the majority of game seems like a shit-ton of donkey work. Side missions are a very mixed bag. Sometimes they feel like the ones in the 1st game when you need to talk to someone or get an item for them, those ones are ok. However, there's a lot of grinding which you'd expect from an mmorpg, nor a murder mystery. As for the main missions, this is where one of my biggest problems with the game comes in. The first game was all about investigation. Go to the case-related place and investigate it, examine the corpse, talk to witnesses, follow your new lead and so on. It felt like a real investigation. Sure, York did rely on supernatural to solve it, but it was like twice in the entire game (fishing the docs from the waterfall thanks to the cup and going to Harry because the newspaper told him to. I don't count FK in the coffee since it's not much of a clue, just foreshadowing). He only used it because with Nick getting arrested he had no other clues what to do next. It sure felt a bit weird but...understandable? In the 2nd game, however, there's no real investigation going on. All York does is just blindly following oracles and hope that something good will come out of it and there will be progress. And there is because MAGIC! We used to be a competent FBI agent, now it turns out we're only successful because MAGIC! Zach even blatantly admits he has left FBI because he doesn’t get MAGIC HINTS anymore. For me it's a massive let-down. Also, since there's little logical reasoning behind many main missions, they feel super-meh as well. Oh, hey, it's an important person, can't wait to meet and question them! Waaaait-wait-wait-wait, you've got a collectathon in front of you that makes no sense in general but still will move your investigation forward because MAGIC! (Yes, I'm stil bitter and angry as fuck at those stupid drums that do nothing). The thing is, I totally understand why the developers felt it was perfectly normal to make the game this way. The reason behind it is called LOL WACKY. DP gained fame as being a bizarre and wacky game, which to my mind is pretty unfair. It had its moments, sure, but that's what's made it special - just the right balance of "sane" and "insane". Unfortunately, due to its reputation the developers got the wrong message and stopped bothering to make things coherent. "Who cares if something doesn't make sense, it's WACKY and that's exactly what fans want!" Big fat nope. I don't mind a bit of silliness in games, however this game goes far beyond "a bit". The same goes for the characters. Sorry, LOL ZANY characters, another DP1 (not really) staple. DP2 doesn't have as many really quirky people as the 1st game does but man they felt forced and annoying, from their overall shticks to speech patterns. There are characters from DP1 I dislike, but I dislike them for being dicks in general. DP2 characters though I hate from the bottom of my heart for how goddamn irritating they are. I'm sorry, maybe I got old or something, but I really don't think that a concept of a guy refusing to wear clothes is funny. He feels forced as fuck. Just as the guy who has adopted several personas just for lulz (I might be wrong on David, perhaps it is stated in the game that he really has split personality. It won't change anything much though). People in DP1 felt like real people, someone you could meet in real life. Sure, you can meet a guy wearing nothing but his boots, briefs and a hat irl as well, but somehow I doubt it'll be a pleasant acquaintance or, at least, won’t make you question his mental state. Also, don't even get me started on Simon. I literally hated every second of him on the screen. Cartoonish characters were my biggest concern after D4 and boy I was right to worry about that. Also, you don't get to really know people, especially the important ones, so when stuff happens, it barely has any effect on you. Remember how DP1 made you stick with all the main cast for pretty much the entirety of the game, so they felt like family and the end-game literally torn your soul apart? DP2 doesn't even try to get close to that, except for Patricia, but the emotional impact of the ending is nowhere near. The way people talk in the game is atrocious. It often feels like an amateur play written by someone overestimating their writing abilities way too often (talk with Lena in the bar is a good example of what I mean here). Which is a darn shame since there's nothing like that in the 1st game where pretty much all the dialogues were coherent. When thoughts like "That sounds dumb", "That makes no sense" and “That’s not how people talk” are swirling in your mind almost non-stop, that's not a good sign. The directing also seemed to degrade a bit. While there were some scenes in the original, that raised eyebrows and concerns, this game feels more like something of Spy Fiction era. Someone please inform Swery that making someone to look at the rotating screen for too long doesn't make them think "Oh, that's neat!", it makes them wanna puke. There are two little parts that I remember really well: 1) the shot of Patti's mouth when she's tempted to touch a red tree that goes for like 15 seconds while she's making strange noises; 2) That moment when Zach is dreaming about Kaysen, specifically, when he starts screaming and shooting. That frame starts with Zach already screaming and honestly it made me giggle with how silly it looks. Certainly that was not the intended player's reaction. This whole part might seem like nit-picking, but it really rubbed me the wrong way.

As for the plot, Le Carre part felt so-so and rushed with main missions mostly being a flop and major characters dropping like flies. Rest in peace, *character_name, we hardly knew ye. (Also, what the fucking FUCK was that part with an alligator tearing off Danny's hand? If that was a red herring, that was the dumbest fucking red herring I've seen in my entire goddamn life).  Also, as a side-note, let me make a little confession here: I'm fucking dumb. I'm dumb as a rock. I can never guess anything, being oblivious to obvious things. Still, I suspected Avery from the very beginning due to his heights and as soon as Lena said the drug changes people's physical properties I was convinced he had been involved. Welp, guess what. Sadly, solving this little riddle has brought me no joy. The ending though... Honestly, I don't even want to give any sort of analysis to it. Just thinking about it makes me mad. All I can say is that it was one of the dumbest, most melodramatic, crappy anime-esque endings I've ever seen. And trust me, I've seen some shit, I've beaten MGS4. I could never expect that someone who has wrote DP1 could write something as ridiculous as that. It was so dumb it wasn’t even funny. "Everything was very bad but then FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC happened and everyone lived happily ever after BECAUSE MAGIC!" That's how fanfiction is written. That’s some AU shit a desperate fan could cobble together. I am fully aware there's a lot of people who are really into this exact sort of stuff. As for me, it makes my skin crawl so fucking much it has probably reached Spain by now.  All in all, DP2 is a terrible disappointment. The only real up-side of it is that it has reminded me how good the first game was.

[lawfulpride]

Back by popular demand! A conversation between Davos and Thor, Part II.  Thor played by @honourablebravery.

captaincoffee07/25/2020

Thor, never the best at 'reading a room', is not foolish enough to be entirely oblivious. Good at this? Nah, probably not. Oblivious? Not so. The slight crease in his brow furrows further and further inward, before he moves to seat himself beside Davos-keeping a good forearm of space between them so Davos doesn't feel crowded in. "Well, you scarcely know me now, generally I have learned that speaking with someone on friendly terms can change that." They clearly have some sort of shared ground, and Davos seems to burn with the need to speak. Perhaps as Loki, he's forever been unheard Thor thinks, a pin-prick of bitterness touching his heart. "Is it something that you would wish to discuss? I am no wordsmith, but I have a gentle ear, and the ability for pragmatism."

Hopeful07/25/2020

"It's . . .. . " Davos ducks his head. He's been working on this: hard.  But revelations of his personal struggles remain shameful terrain he was trained for 28 solid years to keep to himself.  "It's. Not." He sighs, and looks up.  "It's not seemly.  For someone like me.  I am. I am still learning that I have the right to be." He blinks. "Well. Human."

He gives Thor a long look. " . . . the person I put all my faith and trust in was my brother.  When we turned 28, we were the two final contestants, out of all the monks in our temple, to go to trial for the most prestigious title--and responsibility--of my homeland.  I was winning.  Winning, but I couldn't kill him, even though that was the custom, so I begged him to yield. He was losing badly, but he still wouldn't listen to me, he kept fighting.  And I kept winning.  And then the light passed over the windows of the temple, and blinded me for but a moment. And Danny . . . his name is Danny, Danny Rand . . . .you've surely heard of him, he is as rich and at least half as famous as Mr. Stark . . . . he took the advantage and disarmed me, and won."

"In that one moment everything I had ever wanted, everything I had ever dreamt of becoming, was gone." He grinds his jaw. "But I was still willing to stand by his side as he took the Iron Fist . . . .the title and the duty of which I spoke.  And he thanked me by abandoning us. Abandoning me."

"Coming back here. To play white Kung Fu hero to a city full of reprobates."

captaincoffee07/25/2020

Something about Davos not even being 30 yet both startles and alarms, Thor's brow knitting continually, until it's nearly a flattened line of scrunch. "Siblings are not forged in blood alone, family is family, a lack of a blood bond means little when the pain is so true, the experiences so raw, and the moments so introspective, sharp and clear. Birth right can only account for so much, it's what we know and experience that makes a relationship. This man, Danny, he is your brother, in the truest of it's definition. And you have bene hurt, both by his betrayal and abandonment, and by he effectively sneering in the face of your love and accomplishments." Thor blinks, seemingly startled by how much he's said. "Of course..I can only know this from an outsiders view' He says, quickly. Aware that-regardless of what Davos currently describes, he'd probably not appreciate Thor actually insulting the man. He knew that feeling all too well. "Davos..if I may..what is it you wish to ask him? Can it even be quantified in singular statements? What drives you now?" He saw Davos was indeed human, but he keeps this quiet, not sure how this moral complex is for the other, or what about it disturbs him so. He hasn't enough information yet for that.

Hopeful07/26/2020

Davos folds his arms across his chest.  As he is wont to do, he listens closely to Thor's ruminating.  The god clearly speaks from experience.  "Of course." He looks up suddenly, eyes bright with a different kind of light, one not altogether gentle.  "Your brother is the sorcerer who attacked this city in 2012."   He would love to do battle with such a formidable creature, but he also knows that to say or even think such a thing toward this good man's beloved family member is unkind.  " . . . . as for your question, I don't. I don't know."

"I cannot imagine what I would say."

captaincoffee07/26/2020

There is anger there. Thor can sense it. What he cannot discern is it's direction, and he is not about to make the situation escalate by asking. He feels pain, but he doesn't know quite why he feels pain. For a moment, he wishes he understood people, emotions, nuances better. He tries, and he hopes that is something. "Yes,  Loki attacked New York here..in 2012..he was..unwell..very very unwell, that is not..I wish to not make it sound as if I'm excusing him, but much has come to light, since that moment." He chuckles, fondly, almost, reaching for his ice coffee. "You know.' Having a small sip. "It's entirely possible you won't know until you are within five inches of Danny's face that you'll know exactly what you wish to say"

Hopeful07/26/2020

"it might be unwise for me to ever see him again." Davos looks down at his right fist. He flexes it, over and over, slowly, as though something there is missing: the hand that, briefly, held the Iron Fist, when for a time he stole it from Danny.  A twitch of muscles, that meditates on what might have been. "I have spent many months rebalancing my chi, recovering my self-control and my....clarity...in knowing right from wrong.  Seeing Danny makes me violent and irrational."

"...it did not used to."

captaincoffee07/26/2020

Thor nods, slow, steady, and hopefully with understanding. "Unwise..yes, but are you settled?" He asks, "If you think that it would be possible to never see him, to never have that moment again and carry out your life with something else on your mind, could you do so? I would never advise anything that could hurt you, but I only ask, does it feel wise to you?" He continues, a little quickly. "You seem a man whom carries burdens like brands, Davos. A man who will always feel the burn of things that fester, that he believes wrong, because not having the resolution to something you believed in so deeply..I don't know if you'd be content, letting it go..because to you, it'll always feel like some slow moving knife taking pieces from your spine until someone yanks it back out." He could be wrong, and he truly has little clue where this babbling he speaks comes from..maybe Davos had a way of making everyone more introspective.

Hopeful07/26/2020

Davos sets his jaw.  He stands, and moves to the door.  But he pauses, and turns. His hand tightens into a fist at his side. He turns it and examines his palm. And he returns to the couch, and sinks back onto it.  "You are right."

captaincoffee07/26/2020

He worries for a brief moment if he's said something upsetting, but then Davos just..sits back down. "I cannot speak for you, nor your best interests, Davos..but..I do..I cannot say I do not worry. Your energy is very..intense"

Hopeful07/27/2020

The Steel Serpent looks at the Thunder God in his gauging, serious way.  "I was born to protect, and I must find something to protect, or I will run mad."  It's a confession, a tacit agreement.

captaincoffee07/27/2020

Something to protect. It seems there could be a double meaning to that..but it feels..rude to ask. He's not sure how to respond, precisely. "What about protecting yourself..and what you believe in? It may..I feel that there are causes, things you sympathize with, perhaps, if devotion is what drives you..looking somewhere to it?"

Hopeful07/27/2020

"That is why I am a shifu at several training centers now."  He rubs a palm down the back of his scalp, and inclines his head toward Thor in a single nod. "That is what I seek.  Truth to my purpose.  To be devout, to the people who need to learn to protect themselves. Some of them are children. Some women battered by the pigs who have abused the sanctity of marriage. Some teenagers."

"It's only...Can you miss the person who abandoned and betrayed you? I fear that is my dilemma.  Yet I don't trust myself to speak to him without reverting to shameful ways."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

Norns, what a loaded question. And such a question does not have a simple response-it cannot, at the heart, have any response not loaded and situation-based. He decides to hone in on the most simplistic part of the question (or what Thor thinks is the most simple) "Yes, I think you can' He says, gently, 'But you and I both know there is more to it than that..is there not?" The set up is a clear opening I can expand upon this should you desire it. You are safe in my company.

Hopeful07/27/2020

"Please explain."  Davos takes the opening, finally sipping his nearly forgotten tea.

captaincoffee07/27/2020

"Betrayal..is not a black and white issue, and it of course, determines on the type of betrayal." He's hesitating, but it's clearly in result of thinking how best to word what he desires to bring to the table here. "And how badly you are hurt by said betrayal. I think that, if one is to look for forgiveness after a betrayal has occurred, then context is utterly crucial."

Hopeful07/27/2020

"I don't want forgiveness, I want him to beg it! And I want to still tell him to go to hell!" Davos speaks ferociously but his whole body tightens, trying to regulate the emotions he keeps too constantly locked up in the dark.  "I want him to have never left, I want us to be home! I would have gladly yielded him the honor he was bestowed if he had just taken it seriously!"

A long pause and he draws out a shaky exhale. "Forgive me, I should not have raised my voice."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

Thor's first instinct is to reach out, he's tactile, after all. But he doesn't have consent and he's not sure what a man like Davos thinks of such things. Knowing full well some individuals hated touch. His fingers flex against his own leg, a slight inward curl, "Anger is not always something shameful" He points out, gently, "Sometimes it is good to let it out..lest it consumes us." Unless Davos believed anger a shameful thing, "You are not..." No He puzzles, then tries again, "This is a safe haven, Davos"

Hopeful07/27/2020

"A weapon does not know anger." The words are hollow and come from a dead place behind Davos's now shuttered and lightless eyes.  "A weapon does not indulge in emotions.  It is dangerous.  I do not think you unsafe. On the contrary, you are .....you are quite kind."

"I want him to have valued me...as much as I valued him." That's the root of it all. That's the bottom line.

captaincoffee07/27/2020

"You're a human first, Davos" He lets that sit, a moment. 'I was not always good...maybe this is why I make such an effort now..maybe I always had goodness inside, but could never access it..or..something." Words are not his strong suit. "You know the truth that you cannot force him to value you...Davos, it hurts..but Danny's blindness is not because of you, but him, and whatever has completely clouded his mind, his vision, his everything."

Hopeful07/27/2020

Davos bites his tongue halfway to saying "I know that!" because. Does he? Intellectually, perhaps, but not in his heart of hearts. "I have never been exposed to what...the Western world, I believe, refers to as 'positive reinforcement,' but I shall attempt to believe your words are true."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

"In truth..I do not quite grasp that concept either. My..my father's belief to me..was that..as long as you did what he claimed was 'good' then..it meant something. But it had to align with his personal visions. Order, regulation, he saw the future, did he? Maybe he claimed such, not sure...but I was so brash, so arrogant. And after years of encouragement from him to be so, he tells me no, it is too much, humble yourself..and I do..but it still did not align with his beliefs" "Loki suffered worse for it. He saw right through him at points..he always was to clever.."

Hopeful07/27/2020

Davos lifts his head from where it's been resting, in his hands, and studies Thor perceptively.  "My parents are like your father.  It's exhausting. I'm very sorry. The price of being the model pupil, always, is steep.  But I succeeded often in being what my mother and father...mostly my mother, demanded. It was just that it was never quite enough.  I could always be more perfect. And when I was not, I did not exist."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

"And I, to you, I am sorry..but if I may?" He has no idea how to preface it, simply launching himself head-long into words and hoping it sticks "I have learned, and I cannot claim this to be universal, these parents of ours..they have ideas, they want things accomplished. My father wanted a King, and he molded me to be just that, but when I started to eek from his mold, he punished me. He had two sons..well, Loki is Loki, but we grew up..side by side..and he made it seem as if the throne was allowed to both of us, but he deliberately kept the truth at bay. I was to take the throne, Loki not, and in his eyes we both failed because of what? Because HE couldn't be arsed to communicate openly? Because he treated fatherhood like putting pieces into a puzzle? Adding sealant to a sculpture? How can we do wrong or right when to him, sharing his thoughts was not..we were never worthy of his true voice, only spiels I have to wonder were rehearsed, he even banished our sister and told NOBODY." Now Thor is raging, that tell-tale fiery personality that still lingers beneath the surface, even to this day, rising like an encroaching flame. "She was too powerful..for him..' he scoffs, 'Imagine.." Lies, lies, deceit. Half truths. "Davos, we..we could never live up to what our parents desire, because their desires are not tangible, they are unrealistic, they always were. To the offspring are a means to an end, a continuation in a storyline they've crafted and could never finish, because we have agency. If they wanted someone to carry out legacies, whatever, to their exact specifications, make models, or something, do not expect that people with brains and feelings and hearts are blank slates waiting to be guided about like dogs!"

Hopeful07/27/2020

Davos watches Thor storm around his own lodgings, his inspirational words turning into a blaze of still unresolved emotions.  The Kung Fu master blinks slowly once. He then smiles, a small soft smile, almost modest in nature. This is so familiar. Danny has a temper like this, too.  Danny likes to rail against injustices, too, albeit a bit more sanctimoniously than this Thor fellow does.

Something about it is as comforting as the commiseration, the empathy, within the words themselves. He stands and walks over to the ranting god, and lays a hand on his bicep. "Are you alright?" he asks, and it's clear he actually cares. Davos isn't much of a deceiver.

captaincoffee07/27/2020

The touch does not startle him, it is both welcome and relieving. "..Are you?" He asks, quietly. "I.." He chuckles, 'I am a Thunder God for a reason, it appears." Aware that the moment is radiating tension, but comfort in the same shared space. 'Our lives seem oddly similar, Davos, in some ways."

Hopeful07/27/2020

"I am, in fact."  Davos huffs a laugh through his nose, and nods. "Perhaps we are."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

Thor's grin turns downright radiant, pleased with the good discussion, moving to turn himself more fully, his own wide-palmed hand loosely grasping  Davos's shoulder. "I am glad, to have given you some chance to alleviate some burdens, and I would be honoured to have you as a friend."

HopefulToday at 2:17 PM

Davos reddens.  Particularly his cheeks and ears.  They aren't especially large ears, but with his shaved head, they become prominent.  He could face down any foe with his fists, and with his keen wits, he could navigate nearly any delicate intellectual scenario as well. But being told by a friendly behemoth that he wants to be his friend, that it would be his honor? That's intimidating to someone trained to disregard emotional attachments altogether, save those which pertain to loyalty, and to devotion. "I." Oh, but it's very good for him, this scenario. "I would also be honored." He grasps Thor's shoulder, in return. He has to stand on his tiptoes.

[g-othboiclique]

Andy was waiting for Ashley, who had wanted him to go to the gay pride parade. Ashley knew that Andy was gay, but he didn’t know that Andy had a huge crush on him. Ashley was as straight as a flagpole though. “I don’t want to, Ash,” Andy said swatting Ashley’s hands from his face. Ashley had painted a tiny rainbow flag on his cheek and he was trying to do the same to Andy. Ashley was holding both of Andy’s hands in one of his and trying to paint a rainbow on his face with the other one. “You’re gonna do this whether you want to or not, Biersack. Besides, you’ll look adorable,” Ashley said. If Ashley would think Andy would look cute he’d do it, but he was still going to put up a fight, just for fun. Andy tried to get up but was pulled back down. Ashley straddle Andy’s lap and looked him in the eyes. “Please!” He begged. “Just let me paint a rainbow on your face. Look I did it, and I’m straight!” Andy gave in. He let Ashley sit on his lap, which he was secretly enjoying a lot, and paint a little rainbow on his left cheek. “I hate you so much right now,” Andy murmured. “So much, Ashley Purdy!” “Naw, you love me,” Ashley teased, smiling at Andy. Their faces were so close together. Andy was holding five colorful cans of face paint and Ashley was holding the one he was currently working with. Andy was calmly resting his fists on Ashley’s thighs, and watching Ashley face closely as he admired the concentration of the older boy’s working. He seemed so concentrated on making the perfect little rainbow for Andy. “Can I have the green one?” Ash said, screwing the top onto the tiny plastic container that held the yellow paint. Andy handed him the green and took the yellow in his other hand. “This is taking to long,” Andy complained. He wasn’t really complaining about Ashley being so incredibly close to him, he was just excited to leave, more now than he was before. “Stop whining, you baby,” Ashley teased, tickling Andy's sides lightly. “I’m not whining, I only said one thing,” Andy grumbled. Ashley giggled at his childlike behavior. Andy liked that he made Ashly laugh and smile. He did find him amazingly beautiful and astonishingly handsome. “Why do you want to go to the parade anyway?” “I don’t know, I just thought we would have fun, and I thought it would be weird to ask the other guys because they’re all straight,” Ashley continued painting the green. “And you,” Ashley bopped Andy’s nose, “need a boyfriend, which shouldn’t be too hard ‘cause your a cutie.” He grinned. “I need the blue.” Andy thought about if Ashley was aware of how much he was teasing him. Sitting on his lap, and being all adorable, even calling him cute. He was driving Andy absolutely insane and he had no clue what he was doing. “What if I don’t want a boyfriend yet? I don’t know that I’m ready,” Andy said. The question was only partly a lie. He desperately wanted a boyfriend. But he wanted Ashley. “That’s why I’m taking you to the parade, to see if there is anyone you might like,” Ashley had finished the blue and was onto the purple. Andy was almost sad that Ashley time on his lap was almost over. “What if I don’t like anyone there?” That was a lie too. Ashley would be there. “C’HYPERLINK "note-insight.2c3ca038-66a9-3fc8-fce6-b6683c0a2a29"mon, Andy. There’s gotta be a silver lining,” Ashley said. “Even if you don’t find anyone we can still have fun. And if someone is hitting on you, and you want them to stop, you can always just grab my hand or swing your arm around me, okay?” “Yeah, thanks,” Andy smiled. Ashley smiled too. “What if I meet a guy who wants to top?” “Oh God, Andy! Let’s go!” Ashley said getting up and offering a hand. Andy was grinning and sniggering as if he had won some sort of imaginary award of mischief. - When Ashley and Andy got to the parade a few guys were looking at them. One guy, who looked about in his forties, and also looked like drug addict came up to them. “You boys together or can a take one a yous home wit meh?” He said in a gruffy, country accent. “Nope we’re married,” Ashley said panicking and wrapping his arm tight around Andy’s waist. “That’s alright, I’cn deal wit two a’ya,” he said, he smelled like rotting fish and his breath smelled like beer and cigarettes, he was missing half his mouth of teeth and his white shirt had stains all over it. “Yeah, our sex life is just fine with the two of us, thanks,” Andy said pulling Ashley away. “How did that creep even get in here?” Andy whispered after they were far enough away. “I don’t know but he’s still looking still looking at me,” Ashley said peering over his shoulder. Andy instinctively, and protectively, pushed Ashley over in front of him a little bit. Ashley was still holding Andy’s hand and he had a death grip on it. Andy was walking them to a food truck to hopefully get some tacos. And had stopped being a vegan when he and Juliet split up. Andy laid for two meals and he and Ashley went to sit down at some picnic tables that lined the sidewalk. They HYPERLINK "note-insight.eabe4ad2-2863-580c-4762-56a4005c7fee"sat next to each other and looked at a the crowd of people. “Hey, Ands, what about him? He’s got tattoos and he wearing a Black Veil shirt,” Ashley said pointing to a tall boy who HYPERLINK "note-insight.eabe4ad2-2863-580c-4762-56a4005c7fee"sat alone. “I guess he’s kinda cute, but I-“ “Then go talk to him!” Ashley encouraged. “Come on, he obviously likes you or he wouldn’t be wearing that shirt.” “But what if he’s, like, a crazy super fan, who wants to kidnap me?” Andy said, avoiding the real reason why he didn’t want to talk to the boy. “Do you want me to go talk to him for you?” Ashley offered. He’s obviously totally oblivious to the fact that and just wants to kiss his perfect lips. “Sure, Ash,” Andy said. He was a little hurt because he knew Ashley would never like him the same way. He was straight after all. Ashley got up and started walking through a few people and over to the boy. “Hi,” Ashley smiled. The boy looked up at him and his smile grew. “Umm hi,” he said. “So, I came here with my friend and he thinks your cute, but he was too shy to come talk to you, so I did it myself,” Ashley grinned. “Oh, I have a boyfriend already. I’m just waiting for him to get here,” he smiled apologetically. “Oh, okay. Sorry,” Ashley smiled. “Hey, can I get a picture with you, I kinda like your band a lot,” “Yeah totally,” Ash smiled for a picture and then left on his way back to find Andy. Some muscular guy with a beard and no shirt was talking to Andy. He was smiling and laughing. Ashley smiled hoping his devious plan had worked. Meanwhile Andy’s converHYPERLINK "note-insight.eabe4ad2-2863-580c-4762-56a4005c7fee"sation went like this: “So are you here alone?” The guy asked. He was short and buff, with a blond beard and hair that came down to his shoulders. “Umm no I’m actually here with someone,” Andy smiled. “Well, I’m Danny. It’s nice to meet you,” he smiled looking at Andy’s eyes then his lips, and back to his eyes. “Hi, Danny, I’m Andy,” Andy said grinning. “So what are you into? I mean like, in guys, and sex?” Danny asked. Andy laughed. “I’m not really looking for a boyfriend,” “That’s a shame, your so cute. I like your voice,” Danny said. Andy could tell he was trying to be seductive. “You know, you look so strong and handsome, and your so tall. I’d love to take you in the bathroom and see your not so little friend, that is if you don’t mind.” “Like I said, I’m not looking for a boyfriend. I already have one, he was just going to the car to get the phone. He left t in there, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to go see if I could find him.” Andy scolded the man before walking off. He knew exactly where Ashley was. He saw him spying. “What about that boy with our shirt?” “He’s already got a boyfriend. What did you walk away from that other guy?” “He was trying too add to get in my pants,” Andy murmured grabbing Ashley’s hand. “I want to leave. So far everyone has either been a creep or taken.” “Alright let's go,” Ashley said, and they walked back to the bus, which wasn’t too far away. They held hands the whole way until Andy spoke. “We’re not there anymore, you know you don’t have to god my hand anymore,” Ashley last go and Andy kinda wished he hadn’t said anything. “Sorry,” Ashley giggled. “No, it’s fine,” “Oh,” When they got back to bus, Jinxx, CC, and Jake were all piled up, asleep on the couch. “Should we wake them up?” Ashley whispered. “No, let's leave them,” Andy said snapping a few pictures. - Later that night while Andy was in his bunk, he heard Ashley softly singing. He smiled to himself and listened to his sweet voice. And then he heard him sniffle and lightly sob. Andy’s smile had faded, and he wanted to get up from his bunk and go to Ashley’s. He wanted to hold him, and kiss him, and cuddle him while telling him that everything would be okay. He pulled his curtain back just a little. “Hey, Ash, are you alright?” Andy cooed soothingly. “I’m fine,” Ashley muttered. He pulled his curtain away too. Their bunks were right across from each other. Ashley’s eyes where red and glossy. His cheeks were puffy and wet. His lips curled down into a frown. “Your not fine, honey, your sad. Come talk to me,” Andy said. “I guess I just feel really guilty because I know someone who I care about a lot is hopelessly in love with someone else, but that person doesn’t like them back and probably won’t,” Ashley didn’t mean to, but he made it painfully clear that Andy needed to move on. “But this person is just assuming that the other one has a crush on them and is hoping it isn’t true, because he loves that person dearly, and doesn’t want to lose their friendship.” Andy let the tears fall, he wasn’t even trying to stop them any more. He was going to admit it. And he was building up the courage to do it now. When he had talked himself into it, he said it. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, Ashley,” Andy cried. “I’m sorry Andy. I am so fucking sorry!” Ashley exclaimed. “I love you, but I’m straight, I don’t like guys. And it’s not you-“ “It’s alright, Ash,” Andy whispered, closing his curtain. Ashley hated how broken Andy sounded. They both silently cried themselves to sleep. And the next HYPERLINK "note-insight.3fd450df-5e09-bdde-66cf-f098cd05148b"morning was hell. - “You wanna come with me to get HYPERLINK "note-insight.cd1d4ab9-c973-6114-6846-e9c603f46a04"breakfast?” Ashley said. He was trying to fix Andy. “No, no, I’m fine. You can go,” Andy said. He crossed his arms over his stomach. ‘Ashley doesn’t love me because I’m too fat.’ He thought. “Oh, okay, see you later,” Ashley left. He didn’t want to go without Andy. That was his whole motive for going to HYPERLINK "note-insight.cd1d4ab9-c973-6114-6846-e9c603f46a04"breakfast. So he just walked around for a while. Sound check didn’t start until HYPERLINK "note-insight.6eb8da63-2fb5-6fc9-7f92-a5478fa1856d"5:00 because they had a late show today. It was only 10:30, and Ashley didn’t typically get out of bed until HYPERLINK "note-insight.334507dd-4cfc-9e8b-6be4-82ac3968e41e"1pm. Andy spent the majority of his alone time in the bathroom that HYPERLINK "note-insight.3fd450df-5e09-bdde-66cf-f098cd05148b"morning. He hadn’t eaten much anyway, but he didn’t want it to stay in him. Andy and Ashley didn’t talk for HYPERLINK "note-insight.2c3ca038-66a9-3fc8-fce6-b6683c0a2a29"months, and when they did, it would be small things, or something that was absolutely necessary for them to say to each other, and absolutely meaningless.     Andy had been restricting everything he ate, calorie limits becoming lower and lower, fasts becoming longer, and purges growing. His list of safe foods shrunk to a mere nothing.     Ashley and the rest of the band had noticed a change in Andy, mostly Ashley, but they all brushed it off. Ashley noticed Andy grimacing at the sight of himself, taking less pictures, and eating less. Andy always had quite a fondness for himself, and Ashley always knew this was true, but as of late, Andy seemed to dislike his appearance or even hate it.     Andy did indeed hate is appearance, and everything about him that pushed Ashley away. He thought if he was thinner, he would be more attractive to Ash. But even deep down he knew that wasn’t true because Ash was still straight and Andy was still a man. - Ashley had walked by the bathroom around ten minutes after lunch with the band. He heard Andy puking and he was alerted for the well being of his friend. Little did he know, Andy was shoving his fingers down his throat to make it happen. All for Ashley, his love for Ashley kept him going. “Hey, are you alright?” Ashley asked cautiously, tapping his knuckles on the door. “Yeah, I think I got food poisoning or something,” Andy said panicking. He flushed the toilet and rinsed his mouth, popping in a piece of bubble-mint. He opened the door and walked out, but was pulled back by the wrist. “We ordered the same thing and I feel fine, why are you making yourself sick?” Ashley whispered. Everyone else was on the bus too, and Ash didn’t want them to hear. “I-uh, I don’t know that it was from lunch, I’m not making myself sick though,” Andy chuckled nervously and swallowed a lump in his throat. “Andy, take your shirt off,” Ashley said calmly. “No I-“ “I didn’t ask,” Ashley repeated, tears and anger in his eyes. Andy’s head hung as he pulled his shirt off. A single tear rolled down Ashley’s cheek, he could see the bones in Andy’s chest, his ribs were very prominent, and his pants hovered over his waits, elevated by his protruding hips bones. “Andy…” Ashley reached his fingers out to Andy’s ribs. “Your not even here. There is none of you.” Ashley was crying now. A lot. Andy felt like he couldn’t breath. “I’m sorry,” Andy whispered. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far.” “But, Baby, your too thin,” Ashley cried. Andy’s breath hitched in his throat, did Ashley just call him baby? “Come eat, please.” “No. I’m t-“ Andy stopped himself. “I’m not hungry.” “I never, ever, saw this in you, Andy. Why?” Ashley murmured. “For you, Ashley. I love you, and I know it won’t happen, but I just want you to love me back!” Andy had tears now, lots of them, falling down his face, running down his neck. Ashley grabbed his face and kissed his lips. Andy put his bony little fingers around the back of Ashley’s neck and kissed him back hard. “You big fucking idiot, Andy,” Ashley whispered. He rested his forehead against Andy’s “Of courses I love you!”

[thefancyspin]

a little give, steve&danny. 

(for @samanthahirr who requested mcdanno, and a car chase, but mostly ended up being a quiet moment between friends. possible pre-relationship, I guess? thanks for the prompt! )

Danny’s day started fine - which, in hindsight, should have been a clue. There were no early morning calls from work, the radio was having a Springsteen Hour to celebrate an upcoming birthday and the woman at Liliha’s threw an extra malasada in his bag free of charge.

If pushed, he might even say it was a good morning.

Then Steve stole the Bugatti.

“I swear to God,” Danny yells, clutching at whatever part of the passenger door he can reach. “If you put your foot down any harder I’m going to ram the pedal so far down your throat you won’t be able to sit for a week!”

“Relax, Danny.”

“Yeah, and keep telling me to relax. See what happens then!”

“I’m just luring them out, alright?”

“Luring them out?” Danny repeats with squinting rage. “You couldn’t have done that with a joke about someone’s Mom? You had to steal a million dollar car and - ”

“It’s probably worth closer to two million actually, “ Steve starts, before pulling that face he does so often when he realises he’s prolonged the argument. An argument he didn’t want to have in the first place.

Danny feels his knuckles flex. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that was somehow better!”

“I was just saying,” Steve says with a sigh, but makes his first wise decision of the day and keeps quiet.

It’s not that - after so many years of the same old story - Danny doesn’t trust Steve’s skills behind the wheel. It’s not that he would prefer doing this in Nahele’s rusted out Toyota that sounds like a toilet flushing every time you turn the key. It’s not the value of it, it’s the principle.

And if Danny has anything, it’s principles.

“If you so much as scratch this car my Grandpa Vince is going to roll in his grave, Steven,” Danny tells him with gritted teeth, Steve taking another corner so fast he feels his intestines twist. “I don’t even want to know what the Governor will do.”

“Since when have you cared so much about the property of a criminal?”

“Since it’s probably going to cost me a lot more than just hours of overtime trying to figure out how to fill in the little box on the form that says, Please explain why your partner thinks he’s Vin Diesel and he’s on the set of a goddamn Fast and the Furious movie.”

With a sudden, screeching jolt Steve stops the car, apparently oblivious to the honking and shouting of nearby drivers. Danny’s too surprised to say anything else, listening to Steve rev the engine.

“Here they come,” he says, and Danny throws a look at the rear view, seeing the far off but familiar sight of Bad Guys Approaching. “And for the record, I love those movies.”

Steve puts his foot down.

*

An upturned ice-cream truck, a hundred angry phone calls to the Governor’s office and half a dozen arrests later, they finally make it back to headquarters. Danny’s been spitting mad for most of the afternoon, so by the time he sits at his desk with a coffee the size of his head and a wide berth from the others, he’s simmering down to just plain angry.

Which is his default setting, most days, so he can work with it.

“Before you say anything,” Steve says, coming into Danny’s office with a paper bag and his hands in the air like Danny’s armed. “I’ve spoken to the Governor, and straightened things out, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

Danny gives him one of his patented glares, but doesn’t talk.

“Also, I have all the necessary paperwork to get through, so I’ll do that too.”

“What’s in the bag?”

Steve puts it down on the desk tentatively, Danny catching a waft of something warm and sweet and bad for him. He snatches it up. “Uh, I was at the bakery. Wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

“Are you on some 12-step program?” Danny asks, peering into the bag that’s got donuts or cronuts or something that could probably make him steal an expensive car and go joyriding across half the island.

“Huh?”

“Are you taking a How To Get Along With Your Partner class that I don’t know about?”

“Jesus, Danny.”

“Well!” Danny takes a bite out of something fluffy, but keeps talking, words muffled and spitting. “Usually these arguments end with you saying, too bad, Danny, it is what it is.”

“Well it is what it is,” Steve agrees, flopping into a chair and kicking his feet up onto the desk. Danny thinks he can still see sprinkles on the soles from when Steve had been talking the ice-cream man down from his tirade. It almost makes him want to laugh. “I’m not going to stop making decisions that you’re gonna hate. I get that now. But.”

“But?”

“But I’m gonna try to make it a little easier on you. If I can.”

Danny swallows his mouthful, honestly feeling more floored than he had doing three times the speed limit along major highways. More floored then all the times Steve had told Danny he loved him.  “Well,” he says, and coughs. “Thanks.”

Steve just gives him a little nod. It feels like a victory Danny’s a little too smug to be admitting to. But in a place like this he takes them where he can get them.

“It was a nice car though, right?” Steve says a moment later, grinning like a teenager who just went on his first ride along. “We could hire one this weekend, take the kids somewhere for the day.”

Danny throws the bag at him, hitting him in the face.

“I hate you.”