#and i spend more money on drugs than uh anything else really

[srvphm]

do you ever just think about everything you do like Ah Yes I’ve really failed my life already huh

[peterpparkrr]

like real people do (pt 1)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x pianist!reader

Summary: He was a metal guitarist. She played piano. Can I make it any more obvious?

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Still haven’t recovered. Here’s some non-canon-related fluff.

part 2  part 3 part 4

Eddie Munson is a metalhead drug dealer with a penchant for failing Chemistry.

And the girl who works at the music store is an uptight goodie-two-shoes. 

Seriously. Eddie Munson had been Nancy Wheeler’s partner in a biology lab for a month and had thought she was bad. 

But you were a whole new ball game. Perfect grades and perfect manners were one thing. But you were also infuriatingly kind. 

It would be one thing if you just scoffed when he walked through the door and ignored him until he found the sheet music he was looking for. 

But it’s worse than that.

You were annoyingly helpful. 

And not in the fake-nice customer service-y way. You didn’t just plaster on a fake smile and nod at customers until you turned your back. 

No, you were interested. You asked them curious and thoughtful questions and offered real, useful advice. 

Even to people like Eddie.

Every time he goes for new music you help him find it, you ask him questions about his band, and ring him up, all with a cheery smile. 

Pretending like you care. Like you’re actually interested in knowing anything about him. 

And he knows exactly who you are. Everyone does. It’s a pretty small town, and you’re the ‘Prodigy of Hawkins’. Their pride and joy. You are quite possibly the best musician that Hawkins Indiana had ever produced. Not that that was really saying that much. But you’d been gifted since you could barely reach the pedals of the baby grand in the Hawkin’s community center theater.

You’re supposed to be pretentious, your parents drive you up to Indianapolis on the weekends where you play at the concert hall. Their symphony orchestra has accompanied YOU. 

Yet when you’re not performing for packed concert halls, you’re accompanying choir concerts and middle school plays, and teaching little kids how to play the piano, all without an air of self-importance.

He heard you even got a scholarship to Juilliard. New York. He had been fuming with jealousy. 

It was always prissy rich girls like you that get out of towns like this, and he’s already been stuck here two years longer than he was supposed to be. 

You shouldn’t want anything to do with a guy like him. 

And he shouldn’t want you either. I mean, you are definitely not his type. 

And yet, he can’t help but feel drawn to you.

Which is probably why he spends all of his money on sheet music and guitar strings. 

“Hi, Eddie!” Your voice calls out from behind a row of sheet music when Eddie walks in. You must be organizing stock. Usually, you’re behind the counter with a textbook, or at the display piano playing through a concerto like it’s a nursery rhyme. “Give me one sec and I’ll be right with you.”

Eddie nods as he moves to peruse the new arrivals. As the only music store in Hawkins, you carry just about anything and everything, which is definitely the only reason that Eddie still shops here. Somehow you manage to carry sheet music and tabs for just about every genre under the sun.

“So what can I help you with,” You ask as you finally manage to make your way over to Eddie with a smile.

“Just looking for some new music, you don’t have Master of Puppets yet, do you?” Eddie asks, hardly lifting his eyes from the sheet music he’s flipping through.

“Yes we do,” You say with a grin as you lead him towards the register. “I had a feeling you’d want to get your hands on it,” You add as you pull it out from underneath the register and place it in front of him with a slight flourish as he eagerly grabs the music from the counter and flips through the pages.

“Anything else I can do for you?” You ask as you watch him with mild amusement.

“Uh, nah, I’ll just take this one,” Eddie replies when he finally looks up.

“Sounds good,” You say as you type it into the cash register. “That’ll be 4.99,” You tell him.

He grabs some cash out of his pockets and hands it to you. 

“So are you adding this to Corroded Coffin’s setlist?” You ask as you put the money in the register and grab him his change.

Eddie glances up at you in surprise, impressed that you remembered his band name from the last time he was here.  

“Maybe, I kinda just want to try it out for myself first, see if I can even manage it,” He tells you.

“Of course you can,” You scoff as you hand him his change. “Eddie, I’ve seen you play at school, you’re amazing,” You tell him as you grab a bag for the music. 

“Right,” Eddie replies awkwardly, completely unprepared for the compliment. He had kind of assumed that if the band ever played anything written after 1900 that your ears bled.

“Hey, uh, we play Tuesday nights at The Hideout,” Eddie tells you before he can fully think it through. “By no means are we at your level, I mean we play to 5 drunks on a good night but…”

“I’d love to hear your guys, I’ll try and catch you next week,” You tell him with a nod as you smile back at him. 

“Cool,” Eddie says with a nod as you hand him his bag.

“Bye, Eddie,” You reply as he walks out the door. 

You stick out like a sore thumb. It wasn’t hard for Eddie to pick you out in the crowd, even if the bar is just as slow as it usually is on a Tuesday night. 

Your swingy skirt and blazer-like jacket make you look like you’re going to a recital, not a dive bar. 

At least you were in all black. 

“You actually came,” Eddie greets you as he saunters up to where you’re sitting after their set. 

“Of course,” You reply quickly as you turn and see him making his way over, smiling. “I mean, is it alright that I did? I assumed that it was an open invitation but if it wasn’t I-”

“Yes, yes, sorry, I just thought you’d have had a better invitation since then,” Eddie replies, gently cutting off your ramblings.

“Oh, god no,” You blurt out before you can stop yourself from sounding like even more of a loser. “Classically trained pianists don’t exactly have a lot of social credit,” You tell him with a shrug.

“I don’t ah, have a lot of friends. And the ones I do have are mostly middle-aged musicians who live in Indianapolis,” You admit. “So thank you, for inviting me, you guys are very talented.”

“Hope we didn’t burst your eardrums,” Eddie replies with a smirk as he leans against the table.

“Are you kidding? I love Metallica,” You tell him as you press a hand to your heart.

You’d thought it would be obvious, you love music more than anything, and can’t think of a single genre that you don’t enjoy, that’s why you’re always pushing your manager to order just about any music under the sun.

“I genuinely can’t tell if you’re joking,” Eddie replies, his eyes narrowing slightly as he steps back to study you.

“I’m not joking,” You protest. “What, did you think I danced around in my bedroom to Bach?”

“Honestly….” Eddie trails off teasingly as he tips his head slightly.

Eddie didn’t really know what he imagined you listening to. If he was thinking about you dancing around your bedroom he usually wasn’t putting much thought into the soundtrack.

“Ugh, you’re the worst,” You reply as you shove at his shoulder, shaking your head. 

“Nah, I had pegged you for a Beatles girl though,” Eddie confesses.

“Rude,” You reply with a huff as you look at him. 

His eyes are already on you. And you can feel him studying you closely. Normally you’d shy away from the attention. People always assumed you enjoyed the spotlight. But honestly, if you didn’t love the music so much you wouldn’t be able to bear it, the constant attention always felt so prying and invasive. 

But Eddie’s attention didn’t feel that way. You wanted to challenge it with your own. You’d been watching him for as long as you could remember. You found him deeply curious, with so many complexities that you just wanted to understand, even if you could never quite unpack all of them. 

And you felt him studying you now in the same way. Like he understood parts of you that no one else did.

And you liked it.

“Well, I’m sure you have adoring groupies waiting for you somewhere,” You finally say. Cutting through the silence and the tension as you pull your gaze away to scan the bar. Not sure what you’re looking for since the only people here are the regulars sitting at the bar, and Eddie’s bandmates, over at a booth in the corner shouting loudly.

“I really don’t,” Eddie replies quickly with a glance behind him at his band. “Me and the guys usually just get a drink after a show, Jeff always wants to do a play-by-play so that we can ‘improve’,” Eddie tells you with a scoff as he throws up air quotes. 

“You wouldn’t want to go get a drink, would you?” Eddie asks after a moment. “And just talk?”

“Yeah, I’d really like that,” You tell him with a small smile.

[sargeant-bxrnes]

1 step forward, 3 steps back.

warnings: rafe being… rafe. drug mention & consumption, cursing, toxic relationship, sexual situations/implications, mental health issues. ANGST.

[AN: this is the first thing i’ve written, ever, so my apologies if it’s not flawless ; also, english is not my first language, that’s a warning on its own]

my requests are open btw

click for my master list

word count: 4.4K

Called you on the phone today

Just to ask you how you were

All I did was speak normally

Somehow I still struck a nerve

“Hey,” you said in a soft tone as soon as Rafe picked up the phone, you were laying down on your bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Hey princess,” his tone was calm, but his voice was rough and raspy all together.

“How you doing?” you asked him, even though you’d seen him last night, up close.

“I’m doing great,” he replied in a surprisingly cheerful tone, which is weird this early in the morning. Rafe is not a morning person. “You sound tired.”

“I am tired,” you confirmed with a sigh. “Guess I have you to thank for that.”

“My pleasure.” he replied cockily, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically hear his proud smirk.

“So, what’s the plan today?” you asked in a casual tone, fidgeting with the edge of Rafe’s shirt, the one you wore to sleep.

“Uh, what do you mean?” he asked in a distracted tone, he sniffed subtly and coughed.

You knew what that meant, but still, you hoped it wasn’t what you deep down knew it was.

“Yeah, I mean—“ you said and made a brief pause. “Wanna go to the club? Maybe we can take a ride on the boat, you know, with food, alcohol... just us.”

“Can’t, I’m busy.” he said after a few seconds, if you didn’t know him better and his occasional mood swings, you would’ve said his tone was harsh.

"Really?" you asked in a soft tone, trying to disguise your disappointment with interest. "But I thought we were going out together today."

"Y/N, just because I'm your boyfriend it doesn't mean I have to be with you all the fucking time."

Okay, now he was definitely angry, you thought you said the right thing, but it still made him angry.

"Rafe-"

"No, Y/N. I have a life of my own, you know? Things to do besides you."

“That’s okay Rafe, I get it,” You said calmly, nodding your head softly. “Have fun today.”

Now you clearly heard the sound of him sniffing something and the sigh that left his lips after, and Barry’s voice in the background. “Don’t play the victim card on me, that’s not gonna work. I deserve to have some time off.”

“I didn’t,” you said softly. “And it’s okay baby, you’re right, you deserve to have some fun.”

“See? No need to be so fucking dramatic,” he said, his voice and words slurring. You? Dramatic? It was all him. “But don’t worry princess, I’ll drop by tonight and fuck the attitude out of you, yeah? That way I’m not just doing things with you, I’m doing you.”

And with such a vulgar comment and a harsh tone, Rafe hung up on you, leaving you completely dumbfounded and filled with incredulity.

What you did know for a fact, is that he would keep up his word. And judging by his tone of voice and how annoyed he was, you could already imagine the ache between your legs.

You got me fucked up in the head, boy

Never doubted myself so much

Like, am I pretty? Am I fun, boy?

I hate that I give you power over that kind of stuff

You knew exactly what you were getting into when you started hooking up with Rafe, and what you were committing to when you agreed to be his girlfriend.

You know that man carries more problems than he shows, he prefers to make himself appear as the Kook prince who lives a life of partying and money; hiding all the things that were going on in his head.

However, there were times when his attitude made you doubt yourself.

You couldn't help but think, ‘What if one day I don't manage to calm him down?’ ‘What if one day he realizes that there is someone prettier, or hotter, or wealthier out there?’

And Rafe would get angry if you doubted yourself. He would complain to you about it, saying you had no reason to be insecure about your looks; if you are absolutely gorgeous, or to feel insecure about your personality; if you were the most genuine person he'd ever met, and you could make him laugh until he forgot all his problems.

But what really made him furious was when you had doubts about the relationship itself, about whether or not he was capable of leaving you for someone else. He took those doubts personally, as if he wasn't trying hard enough to show you how much you mean to him.

When in reality; you were doubting yourself.

'Cause it's always one step forward

You were preparing dinner for you and Rafe, your family was out for the weekend, and Rafe had decided to spend it with you.

Your hair was tied up in a bun, your attire consisted of nothing but your underwear and a shirt that used to be Rafe's, but you took it so long ago that it's yours now.

Music from your shared playlist played in the background, as you danced absentmindedly with a spatula in hand, extremely calm and enjoying time with your boyfriend.

Rafe could do nothing but stare at you with admiration, you are literally the only good thing in his life; his little piece of heaven. You are everything to him.

As soon as Dark Red by Steve Lacy started playing, you let out an excited gasp. That song in particular is Rafe’s and yours, like… if you two had to choose a song to describe your relationship, it would be that one. It represented how you two did not always have good times, but your love prevailed.

Seeing you this happy, comfortable and at ease with him made Rafe's soul happy. All his life, he had done nothing else besides make people angry, disappointed, terrified. But with you, everything was different.

You were so focused on swaying your hips to the music and singing, that you didn't notice when Rafe stood up and walked over to where you were.

It wasn't until he stood behind you, chest to back and with his hands on your hips, that you realized he was closer. His head was bowed, you could feel his breathing close to your ear, so he was able to murmur in your ear the lyrics of the song:

“Only you, my girl, only you, babe,” he sang in your ear, his voice a soft whisper as he wrapped his arms around your body and started to sway with you. “Only you, darling, only you, babe.”

The gesture quickened your heart to unsuspected levels, you felt your knees weaken as you pressed closer to his body, appreciating his closeness as he pressed a kiss against your temple.

“You know I love you so much, right?” he mumbled in your ear, as you closed your eyes and relished his presence.

“I love you too, baby.”  you mumbled back, leaning your head against his chest, caressing one of his arms around your waist with your fingertips, and bringing your hand to his ash blond hair, stroking it softly.

and three steps back

“Why is he mad at you, again?” Topper asked you with a raised eyebrow, after witnessing Rafe utterly avoiding even looking at you when he walked into the room and then left without a word.

“Because I told Barry to not open the door if Rafe dropped by,” You replied with a shrug, closing your eyes and leaning back against the chair. “And when Rafe tried to lash out on him, Barry said it all had been ‘Mrs.Country Club’s’ request.”

“And he’s mad at you because you don’t want him to get all fucked up?” Topper questioned next, trying to understand the situation. But he never knew what the fuck you two were up to.

“Yes, but it’s Rafe, are you surprised?” you said with a heavy sigh.

“No, not really,” Topper admitted. “Honestly, I don’t know why you keep up with him, Y/N.”

“I ask myself that all the time…” you said with a deep sigh. “But I love him, so I guess that’s the answer.”

“And? I mean, I don’t want to be ‘that guy’ Y/N, but he’s…” Topper trailed off, apparently looking for the right word.

“I know exactly how he is, Topper, I don’t need you to remind me. I already think about that way too much.”

You and Topper had easily assumed that Rafe was no longer around, since he seemed to be making his best efforts to avoid you.

But Rafe was there, and he heard everything. He’d heard Topper giving you bad advice (or what he considered bad advice) And he heard you, having doubts about why you loved him or stood by him at all,and it made him want to lash out again.

I'm the love of your life until I make you mad

It's always one step forward and three steps back

Do you love me, want me, hate me? Boy, I don't understand

No, I don't understand

[+18. Really]

“Leave me alone!” his voice boomed in the room, his brows furrowed and the veins in his neck were popping out.

“Rafe—“ you tried once again, approaching slowly in an attempt to place a hand on his shoulder, but he waved it away aggressively.

“Leave-me-alone,” he said, pausing in between each word to emphasize on how much he meant it. His eyes were bloodshot, his nose had specks of white dust, his lips were dry and his voice was coarse.

You weren’t entirely sure what you could say to get him to calm down. Or if there was anything at all you could do.

Normally, what upsets him the most is Ward. His own father. Rafe has spent his whole life trying to prove he's a good son, to make his father proud, and Ward never appreciates his efforts, only notices the bad, and ignores Rafe's clear calls for help, has since Rafe was 10 years old, so he certainly wasn't going to pay attention to him now that Rafe finally had a steady girlfriend, someone who had willingly decided to help.

95% of the time, you managed to talk to Rafe before he decided to resort to intoxication. Most of the time just seeing you helped him calm down, hearing your voice soothed him, and your lips, your skin, put him in a state of peace.

But the other 5% is when Rafe resorted to alcohol and, above all, drugs.

When Rafe is upset and decides to get high, he only manages to become unstable, erratic and yes, aggressive if not handled with care.

In those situations, the best thing you can do, putting yourself first, is to give him his space. Let him screw himself as much as he wants for that day, and help him deal with the consequences the next day, while you listen to him lament his attitude.

Rafe always said he would quit the vice; claiming you were all he needed to calm himself down, that you made him feel at peace. And above all, that you weren't slowly killing him; on the contrary, every minute he spent with you made him feel more alive.

However, for one reason or another, he always came back to it. Whether it was at a party, because Kelce suggested it, or, as is almost always the case, when he's upset with his father and needs quick relief.

And usually, this ‘quick relief’ ends up with Rafe fucked up, big time.

Once he was convinced that you wouldn't try to intervene again, Rafe went back to his business. He turned to the table, and since he already had the line ready, he simply leaned over and inhaled it, throwing his head back, running his hand through his hair and exhaling as he closed his eyes.

You exhaled heavily, shaking your head as you stared at your feet.  You knew he would struggle to quit, after all it is an addiction and he has to fight it, but sometimes you get the impression that Rafe doesn't want to quit, not really.

"Do you want to help me?" asked Rafe eventually, turning his head to look at you. You didn't know if it was a trick question or not, so you hesitated before answering. "Answer me."

"Yes, of course I want to, Rafe." you replied with your respective hesitations, wondering what he was up to.

"Come here then," he said, making a 'come hither’ sign with his fingers.

You took a hesitant step but stopped, your eyes narrowing as you analyzed Rafe, trying to determine his intentions.

He raised both eyebrows in your direction, in a silent question of whether or not you're going to go with him.

Eventually you walked over to where Rafe was, he smiled at you while biting his lip lightly. Without saying anything he approached you and kissed you; the drugs made his senses heighten, so the kiss was intense from the beginning.

So that's when it made sense to you what he wanted, he wanted you. Your most obvious thought is that he would use you to take out your frustration, put the drugs aside and, most likely, fuck you.

Your idea seemed to be the right one as soon as Rafe grabbed you by the waist, still with his lips on yours, left a little bite on your lip before pulling away; and without any problem, lifted you off the floor and placed you on the table.

It's something you wouldn't admit out loud,—mostly out of shame and guilt,—but this kind of sex with Rafe was the best, he's completely unrestrained, rough, full of stamina and teasing, and above all, possessive. And that, in combination with his attractiveness, always drove you crazy.

And honestly; if what he wanted was to fuck you to take out his frustration, you'd let him.

His kisses were hungry and his hands desperate, running all over your body without distinction, as if he didn't know where to start.

He parted his lips from yours, and left a kiss at the corner of them, on your jaw; and began to make a little trail of slow kisses down your neck. The feeling of his lips on your neck made you bite your lip as you wrapped your legs around his waist to feel him closer.

You slid your hand under his shirt, caressing his defined abs and the sides of his body gently with the tips of your fingers, as he left little bites on your neck. Your hands slowly moved up, intending to remove his shirt, but Rafe was quicker and brought his hands to the edge of your shirt, causing you to stop your movements to raise your arms, so he could remove your shirt with ease. And so he did.

He parted his lips from your neck and stared at you, the hunger in his eyes made you feel a fire in the pit of your stomach that only he could put out.

Desperately, your lips connected again as he settled between your legs. One of his hands traveled to your neck, and he wrapped his fingers around it, pressing lightly to the sides. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head; though he couldn't see it.

With just enough strength, Rafe used the grip he had on your neck to push you down onto the table, so that you were lying on top of it.

As soon as he leaned over the table, you could feel his breath over abdomen, so you bit your lip in anticipation for what was to come.

He began to leave slow, wet kisses on your abdomen, making a slow trail to the edge of your shorts. Your automatic reaction was to close your eyes and put a hand in his hair, stroking it gently.

What you didn’t know is that the fact that you closed your eyes had given Rafe an opportunity he couldn't miss. Without you noticing, he slid a hand to the side of the table, where the small bag of white powder was.

To conceal his actions, he unbuttoned your shorts, and returned his lips to the beginning of your abdomen for more time.

The little bite he left to distract your attention caused a gasp to escape your lips; and that sound almost caused him to change plans completely.

He did want to fuck you, don’t get him wrong. He even had a mental debate about whether to continue what he was doing or simply sink his head between your thighs and provoke more sounds like that.

But he wanted to try something first. He had always wanted to try it, but had never asked you, because he knew that you would most likely say no.

With ease, he slid your shorts down your legs; so that they stayed at your ankles or fell to the floor; he didn't care. One of his hands slid into your underwear with ease, his fingers going straight to where he knew you needed him the most.

Trusting that you would not open your eyes, carefully, he put the white substance on your body, so delicately you didn’t notice. He began to prepare to inhale, while biting his lip in reaction to the sinful sounds that left your lips.

And obviously, without warning, Rafe inhaled a line from your thigh.

And all your sounds stopped, your eyes opened and your expression was filled with surprise, the bad kind.

You couldn't believe what Rafe had just done, you felt like an idiot for falling into the trap.

You also had to bite your lip to keep from letting out a moan in reaction to what his fingers were doing in between your legs, but your pride forbade it.

But more than anything else, you were outraged.

“Rafe, you did not just—“

“It felt nice, yeah?” Rafe’s voice was hoarse, you could feel his breath over your skin, as he left little kisses around. “After all, I did feel you clench around my fingers.”

His dirty words, hoarse voice, and close proximity to your body, not to mention his fingers deep inside you, caused you to let out a soft moan, causing Rafe to smirk in what he thought was victory.

But you wouldn't let him win this little game.

Although you really didn't want to, you grabbed his hand by the wrist and pulled him away, your legs trembling slightly at the sudden lack of anything between them.

Rafe's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as soon as you pushed him away from you and got off the table, lifting your shorts off the floor and putting them back on without a word.

"What are you doing?"

You didn't answer, as you searched for  your shirt, feeling his heavy gaze on your body.

"Y/N, where do you think you're going?"

“I’m leaving you alone as you asked me to, remember?” you said in irony. “Before you sniffed a line off me after I begged you to quit that shit?”

“Oh, so now you’re playing the victim?” his voice rose. “Don't- Don’t act as if you wouldn’t have let me fuck you less than a minute ago!”

"Yes I would have let you, to distract you from that shit!" you admitted to him, failing to control your anger. "I said I wanted to help you, to distract you, to give you something different to do. Not that I'd give you another place to snort lines from!"

Rafe knew you were right, of course he did.

You had spent months after months trying to get him to quit, you had offered him countless hours of your days to give him something new to do, distractions, attention and love. And this is how he had decided to pay you back?

But Rafe was angry too, very. You had interrupted him, you were yelling at him; and you had left him so hard, that it would start to hurt unless he did something about it.

“Fine, then get the fuck out of here.” Rafe spat, his anger clearly getting the best of him.

Your eyes widened at that, you hadn't expected him to react like that.

Your best case scenario would be that your attitude would piss him off, yes, but that he would retaliate by getting you back to the table and showing you everything you were missing.

Instead, he simply took your word for it and told you to get out of the room.

“What?”

“You heard me, get out.”

“Rafe—“

“You uh, you have three options, yeah? You let me fuck you over that table and do whatever I want, you get out of here, or I’ll get you out of here.”

The first offer was tempting, it really was, but you wouldn’t allow him to talk to you like that. Before anything, came respect and dignity, and no matter how much you wanted him to fuck you silly, you were too angry and disappointed at him to let it slip.

Blinking repeatedly to chase away the tears from your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the other end of the table, your jacket from Rafe's bed, and walked out of there without another word as you heard him calling your name.

And maybe in some masochistic way

I kinda find it all exciting

Like, which lover will I get today?

Will you walk me to the door or send me home cryin'?

Your relationship with Rafe was unique.

Not because of the circumstances in which it was created. A one-night-stand that turned into something casual, that was formalized after a dinner.

If not for Rafe.

You loved him, no doubt about it. You would give anything to see him happy and at peace, at peace with himself and succeeding in his life.

Rafe would do anything for you, really, anything. No matter how risky, demanding or dangerous, he would do anything for you.

He would die and kill for you.

But that surely didn’t mean it was an easy relationship, hell no. In fact, the willingness both of you had to do anything for each other sometimes made things too complicated; for at times it seemed that not a single rational thought crossed your minds.

And yes, Rafe’s addiction was a big issue. Whenever he was too high, or going through withdrawals, he wasn’t the Rafe you knew or had grown to love, it was another side of him you wanted to help get rid off. And the process wasn’t easy.

While trying to get clean; there was no way to know how he’d behave. He could either get clingy and want you around at all times to calm himself down, or he’d be in a very bad mood all the time, constantly snapping at you and raising his voice.

So there were days where he’d walk you to the door of your house and leave you there with a tender kiss and a smile.

Or days when you’d get out of his truck without a word, with tears streaming down your cheeks while he kept yelling for probably the stupidest thing.

No, it's back and forth, did I say something wrong?

It's back and forth, goin' over everything I said

It's back and forth, did I do something wrong?

'It's back and forth, maybe this is all your fault

Rafe knew he wasn’t okay. After all, he had begged his father for help, begged for anything that would get those thoughts to stop, but his father hadn’t listened, had only told him to ‘man up.’

You knew he wasn’t okay. Which is why you wanted to help him, to offer the support no one else had bothered to give him before he met you.

Whether he wanted it or not, those thoughts were still there. Being with you made them easier to ignore, but it’s not like they vanished entirely. He still had some ideas that made his own skin crawl.

And sometimes, you’d say or do the wrong thing and trigger those thoughts. And things got bad again for him.

Rafe knew you wanted nothing but to help him get better and be the best version of himself, and he really wanted to give you that. To change and make an effort. Not only for himself but for you. He wanted to be a man worthy of your love.

But it was hard to be anywhere near decent when you two went out and a guy stared at you for longer than Rafe’s limits allowed, or when guys tried to hit on you, when his friends got a little bit too close for his comfort.

Whenever he got jealous, he turned into a walking, talking ticking bomb. Anything could, and would set him off.

It wasn’t your fault, not really, but most of the time you felt it was. You knew Rafe dealt with a lot of insecurities already, of not being a nice person, not being good enough and so many other things. And you hated being one of the factors that caused his insecurities to arise.

And I'd leave you, but the roller coaster is all I've ever had

It was a complicated relationship, and it would probably never stop being complicated because both of you are complex people, plus there are other factors that affect the relationship.

But that didn't mean either of you would stop fighting to keep it alive. Neither would let the other go.

Rafe utterly refused to ever let you go. He loved you as he had never loved anyone, as he never thought himself capable of loving with that twisted heart of his.

You are, without exception, the best thing in his life, the best thing that ever happened to him. And you being in his heart was slowly turning him into who he had wanted to be during all those years of loneliness.

And you would never let him go, because you loved him with all your heart, soul and nerve of your body. And because you know that no one will ever love you like him. With so much passion, intensity, honesty and purity.

Because every feeling Rafe expressed with you was true; he was himself with you. And you didn't want to let him go.

Even if the two of you went one step forward, and three steps back, that single step would be longer than any step life makes you take backwards.

[hsakuras]

Trap | A. Arlert

cw: drug use(weed) drug dealer! Armin, coercion, dubcon, degradation, finger sucking, oral (f receiving), cream pie, unprotected sex, spitting, mentions of baby trapping, self-indulgent

wc: 3.9k

[10:45p] Talk to Armin

You’re not sure what to say back, you want to laugh almost. You want to ask Eren if this is a joke for turning him down last week when he delivered your weed to you. You didn’t think it was that deep when you rejected him, the next text you get from him is Armin’s number.

He’s really serious.

You don’t reply. Not really in the mood to ask him why he won’t sell to you or what’s wrong with him. Instead you tap on the contact he sent you, saving it into your phone and replacing Eren’s spot.

You text him first asking if it’s Armin and explaining you got his contact from Eren. You figured they’d know each other, why else would Eren give you his number?

[11:00p] Hi! It’s me! What can I do for you?

You stifle a laugh, this is the guy you’re supposed to buy from? You know it’s awkward texting someone new for drugs but you’re almost ready to give up when he texts you again.

[11:03p] Eren just told me what you usually get, you want to meet me or should I bring it to you?

Usually you’d be in favor of getting anything you buy brought to you, but you figured it would be safer to meet him instead. Can’t have a stranger knowing where you live and your location is always on for your closest friends. You’ll be sure to text one of them before heading out.

Armin texts you an address of where to meet him. You’re quick to grab a jacket and slip your shoes on before heading out to meet him. You have half a mind to change into sweatpants before you leave but you don’t know how Armin is about being late and you don’t really feel like asking around for someone else to buy from.

The start of your drive is usual, listening and glancing to the directions of your gps to guide you across town. Recognizing that the further you go, the nicer the houses get, the bigger they get, and the more expensive they get. You almost text him to double check if you’re going the right way when it finally hits you.

You’ve met Armin before.

You were most likely fucked from a night of drinking or smoking, or both. You remember how he hung around Eren at a party and how he had on a stupid blue cardigan that matched his eyes. He looked like he didn’t even fit in with anyone. Just some cute, preppy kid running around with his family’s money, probably mixed in with the wrong crowd. It’s no wonder you’re pulling up to a nice house and of course there’s no wonder that there's a parade of cars here. You can see the numerous people with red solo cups in their hands, some stumbling, and the majority of them laughing at the antics of everyone else.

You almost want to leave when someone knocks on the window causing you to jump.

“Holy shit.” You roll your window down enough to be met with blue eyes. It’s Armin.

“Hey, uh, I have your stuff but you’re gonna have to come inside or wait out here.”

You only nod in response, not really giving him the solid answer he’s looking for.

“So are you cool waiting here orrr?”

“I’ll go inside, sorry.” You roll your window back up, taking the keys to your car and double checking to make sure it locks before following Armin inside the house.

The crowd of people outside pales in comparison to the sea of bodies inside of his house. Music blaring and your vision immediately falls to the sweaty bodies dancing in the middle of the huge living room. You continue to look around, watching in awe of how easily people let loose after a couple drinks or hits from a joint. You’re tempted to join them, that is until you make out Eren’s form holding a rolled joint up to Mikasa’s lips. You watch as she hesitantly leans forward and inhales before coughing while Eren laughs. You look away before he can see you, still following Armin before he offers his arm out to you.

“Last fuckin’ time I let Eren throw a ‘small’ party here.”

You laugh a little, holding onto Armin while he leads you upstairs. There are fewer people upstairs, some sitting around to get away from the crowd. Others start to roll a joint before they scramble to put their papers and weed away when they see Armin. He doesn’t pay them any attention, instead, he tells a couple looking for an unlocked room to ‘fuck off’ before unlocking the door to what you think is his room.

Inside everything is organized, you expected it to be. I mean this was Armin you were following, cute Armin with all of his white collared button-ups and cardigans. You don’t recall if you’ve ever seen him in a t-shirt, you watch as he fumbles around by his nightstand, still wary before he encourages you to come in and please shut the door behind you.

He tells you to have a seat on his bed, asking you if you can roll or if you want him to roll a joint for the both of you. You don’t really give him an answer before he finds his tray adorned with wrapping papers, a grinder, and more weed on it. He hands you your baggie of weed telling you that he doesn’t mind sharing his, you don’t know that he only shares his weed with girls he wants to fuck. He loves when new girls like you hit him up for bud, not worried in the slightest bit because Armin isn’t like Eren those sleazy drug dealers, he’s kind and cute.

Your eyes wander to the little bedside table where the drawer isn’t closed all the way and you can see all types of bags full of weed, you can see the scale that his weed was sitting on, and you can make out a smaller bag full of what you can only assume is molly. Part of you wants to ask why he spends his time selling, you’re in awe of his house and you’re sure that his family has more than enough for him to live comfortably.

Lithe fingers roll the joint together before his tongue peeks out of his mouth to ensure it stays together.

“Got a lighter?”

You nod, reaching into the pocket of your jacket and handing it to him. His hand envelops yours and his touch makes butterflies awaken in your stomach. You’re quick to smother them, telling yourself you’re only here for the weed and now a quick smoke session. Nothing else.

Ever the gentleman, he offers you the first hit, gently placing the joint between your lips despite your efforts to take it from him. He holds the lighter at the end and you study his face before you can finally inhale. The smoke makes the back of your throat burn, you cough a little and Armin laughs before plucking the joint from you and placing it on his lips. He inhales, the end lighting up in a bright orange while he takes off the cardigan he’s wearing.

“Sorry, it’s getting stuffy.” He says before passing the joint back to you, thankfully, he hands it to you this time. You take a longer drag, staring at the pretty veins on his arms and realizing how strong he might actually be. He isn’t like Eren, you think, he’s comfortable in the silence and you feel relieved that you no longer have to text his best friend for your drugs, not when Armin is better at responding and willing to smoke you out even if it’s just this time.

You take another hit, enjoying the feeling of your limbs growing heavy and your head swirling in bliss. You feel weightless yet heavy and you’re amazed at how only three hits has you feeling this way. It’s way better than anything Eren has ever given you.

“Armin” you say, mouth going completely dry when you notice that he’s unbuttoned part of his shirt and you can see his abs peeking through when you stretch your hand out to him holding the joint. He’s happy to take it from you, watching as you slowly grow even more comfortable on his bed, toeing your shoes off before letting your jacket fall off your shoulder revealing your little tank top you wear to bed. He takes one last hit before he tells you to finish it.

You’re not sure you can finish it, looking at the camera on your phone and seeing how glazed over your eyes look. Armin tells you to get comfortable, it’s fine. He’ll make sure that no one comes in to bother either of you.

Just trust him.

He watches as you bring the remainder of the joint back up to your lips, watching as you take hit after hit and giggling when you blow smoke on accident in his face, or when you accidentally lean a little too far forward into his own personal space. You even have the audacity to look up at him and say that you’re not even that high.

Oh but if you could see yourself through his eyes, you’re absolutely fucking baked. Pretty eyes glazed and red rimmed while you drink the water bottle he offers you, watching as a small droplet makes its way down from the corner of your mouth. You put the bottle down, “s’kay Min.” You slur and he knows he’s got you.

He reaches over and wipes the water away and you swear he’s unbuttoning his shirt when you’re not looking because there’s no way he just casually shows that much of himself to you. “You’re so pretty” he whispers, the pad of his thumb grazing over your bottom lip before looking back up into your eyes.

The compliment catches you off guard and you’re not sure if it’s the marijuana that gives you courage or the fact you would do anything to get lost in Armin’s baby blue eyes but you allow your tongue to slip out licking the pad of his thumb before he’s pushing it into your mouth. You immediately suck and Armin finally gives you a smirk that has arousal pooling in your belly. You let go of his finger and he presses his lip against yours, immediately you let his tongue in when you feel it against your lips, your hands finding the remaining buttons on his shirt and quickly pulling it apart.

Armin knows he’s got you where he wants you. Pretty thing like you walking into his house with sleep shorts, tank top, and no bra? He knew you wouldn’t protest when he started to roll the joint for you, knew that you’d smoke the entire joint because you haven’t felt this fucking relaxed in a while. He’d call you pretty while your eyes are all red and your mind seems hazy.

Your hands run along the taut muscles of his abdomen, and he’s pushing you back towards his bed. His thigh slotted in between your thighs and you fight the urge to grind down on it, knowing that he could probably feel how wet you would get just at his fleeting touches that set your skin on fire. He kisses your lips one last time before kissing your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse point just to get you to squirm.

Then he feels it.

The warmth of your pretty little pussy on his thigh and fuck he can’t wait to feel you. He wants a taste, his mouth waters at the thought of your honeyed essence on his tongue and coating his chin, how your hands must feel in his hair and what your breathy moans would sound like panting out his name.

He pulls your shirt up, pinching one of your nipples while wrapping his lips around the other, tongue flicking the hardening bud before continuing his descent on your body. Both of his hands are on your tits while he plants warm kisses along your stomach, making sure to tease along the waistband of your sleep shorts.

He’s quick to adjust the both of you, pulling you closer to the foot of the bed by your ankles before kneeling in between your pussy.

“Armin, wait—” whatever plea you had for him dies in your throat when you feel his nose press along your clothes folds, inhaling your sweet scent. He presses a kiss to it, whispering praises barely loud enough for you to hear. Telling you how pretty you look and asking to let him taste you even though he’s already pulling your shorts and panties down your legs. He groans when your cunt, mutters something about how cute your pretty pussy looks. His knuckle coming up to swipe at your slit, groaning when your slick covers it and how sensitive you are under his touch.

You feel him lick a stripe along your folds, your thighs squishing his face before strong arms come to keep you in place. You’re not allowed to interrupt him, not while he’s enjoying himself.

His lips wrap around your clit, using his fingers to reveal it to him, the sensation has you mewling and arching your back into his face. His tongue swirls around the bundle of nerves until your hands find his hair. Your fingers carding through his soft blonde locks while you beg and plead for more. He lets go of your clit in favor of licking your slit, he moans when he finally gets a taste of you, tongue wandering into your gummy walls while his nose hits your puffy clit over and over again. Your mewls are getting louder and you're begging for more, for something more because you need to cum, he has to let you cum.

Armin pulls away and you sob out to him, “Min, please, need to cum, make me cum, please.”

He can’t say no, not when his chin is covered in your slick and his cock twitches every time you plead and whine his name. He holds your legs apart, delivering a quick slap to the inside of your thigh when you attempt to close them when the pad of his middle finger finds your clit. “Keep you legs open.” He says, voice low and gravely. He doesn’t waste time, inserting his middle finger to his knuckle. The feeling of you tight, velvety walls around his digit makes his dick twitch and serve as an aching reminder that he’s not done with you yet, he won’t let you leave after this. Not until he gets to bury himself deep into the velvet of your pussy.

The muscles of his arm are protruding with the pace he sets as he finger fucks you, his lips wrapped around your clit and he begins to suck and you swear you’re in another fucking dimension with how euphoric you feel. The weed in your system makes you extra sensitive and Armin can feel another gush of your arousal all over his hand.

“Armin, fuck,fuck,fuck!”

“Give it to me, baby, wanna see you cream all over my fingers come on.”

He has to see it, inserting his ring finger and adding to your pleasure when he finds that spongey little spot inside of you that has you arching into his touch again. He takes it has his cue to lick and suck on your abused bud again, watching how pretty you look when your voice fails you and your scream goes silent as you cum around his fingers, eyes crossing as you finally give him what he wants.

“Atta girl, squeezing my fingers so tight.”

He slowly pulls his fingers out, eyes fixed on the translucent strings webbing his fingers together before he stands up. You hear the sound of him undoing his zipper before you register what he’s actually doing. With the strength you have you find his hands, watching as he takes off the remainder of his clothes, throwing them somewhere in his room.

Your mouth goes dry when your eyes land on his cock, you didn’t expect him to be so big, to have a pretty vein adorning either side of his shaft and his tip a pretty shade of bubblegum pink with a bead of precum decorating it.

“Armin, wait” you scoot back from him, “m’ still sensitive” you remind him. Your words are slurred and it doesn’t stop Armin from craning his head down and kissing you. Making you taste yourself while he hooks his hands under your thighs, exposing your pussy to his greedy eyes. “You’ll be okay, just be good for me yeah?”

Those blue eyes meet yours again and you’re positive you’re drowning in them. His pupils blown wide as he aligns himself with your drooling entrance, he hooks your legs over his shoulders, finding your hands and pinning them beside your head. He slowly inches himself forward, reveling in the feeling of your gummy walls stretching around his girth. He fights the urge to cum as your pussy flutters around him, he looks down at you, completely fucked out and eyes beginning to water as he slowly pulls back before thrusting into you again.

He lets go of your hands, one of them pushing your thighs into your chest while he brings the pads of his middle and ring fingers to prod at your lips, “suck” he demands, slowing his thrusts to allow you to wrap your lips around them. You taste yourself on his skin, tongue skillfully running along his nails and swirling around both of them.

“Is this why you texted me? Couldn’t get your stupid cunt fucked by Jaeger?” You don’t reply, still sucking on his fingers while he delivers a harsh snap of his hips against yours, he feels the vibrations of your whine, shoving his fingers further into your mouth a smirking when he feels your throat constrict around them.

“Eren doesn’t like easy sluts like you.”

He roughly pulls his fingers out of your mouth, gripping your cheek harshly and making your skin sticky with your own spit. “Keep your fucking mouth open.” You hear him gathering saliva in his mouth before his spit lands on your tongue. You swallow it without being asked, eyes rolling into the back of your skull when he begins his harsh pace again.

“Wonder what he’d say, if he saw you fucking his best friend right now. He said you were so cute, you know?” Both palms are on the back of your thighs, he’s pushing them impossibly close to your chest and letting his weight fall on top of you with each thrust. “Bet he doesn’t know that a little weed gets you desperate for cock huh?”

“m’not desperate” you slur, he slaps the back of your thighs, sending pleasurable pain shooting through your body. “Want me to call him in here? Have him see you cream all over my fucking cock?”

You nod no, but the way your cunt squeezes Armin’s length lets him know all that he needs to.

“Filthy bitch, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He cranes his head down again, sloppily kissing you and allowing his tongue to explore your mouth, groaning when he feels your hands pulling his biceps closer to you. You turn your head away from him, sputtering a bit before begging for more, for Armin to fuck you harder, faster.

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, his pace never faltering as he watches your face contort in pleasure. Mouth falling open and brows knitting together while you moan loud enough for anyone to hear if they were to walk by the door. You can feel the head of his dick kiss your cervix with each thrust, “say my name” he grits.

He can feel your gummy walls fluttering, he knows your close, still sensitive from the previous orgasm and from the weed you smoked earlier. Your mind is spinning and you feel so dizzy, so fucking good as Armin continues to fuck you.

“Armin! Cum inside, fuck, cum inside please!”

Hook, line, sinker.

Who knew that’s a joint is all it took to get you in bed, he almost feels bad that Eren couldn’t get to this point with you. His loss is his gain, he’d make sure that the only name you moan from now on is his, he’ll make sure Eren hears you high pitched squeals for Armin to spill himself inside of you.

“Yeah? You want me to cum inside of you? Fill your pretty little pussy up?” He groans when he feels you squeeze him again, your nails biting into the skin of his forearm as you let out a string of pleads for him to not stop.

“What if I knock you up huh? Give you a fuckin’ baby so all you can think about is me from now on?”

The fear in your eyes spurs him on, his fingers finding your sore clit until he can feel your legs trembling against him. The way he circles your bud paired with his harsh thrusts sends you over the edge, back arching and a silent sob escaping your throat while you gush all over Armin’s cock, “Fuck yeah, give it to me, dirty bitch”

“Armin! Cumming!” You squeal as if he didn’t know, Armin isn’t too far after you, keeping his words and spewing curses out as he empties his hot seed inside of you. You moan pulling Armin in for a kiss while his cock pulsates inside of you, both of you reveling in each other and your highs.

Your breathing labored as he slowly lets your legs fall against the bed. He stays buried inside of you, watching as you fight your sleep.

“Hey, stay with me for a bit, yeah? Gotta clean you up.”

You nod, closing your eyes but listening to him go to his bathroom and coming back with a warm washcloth. The warmth of the washcloth feels good against your skin, Armin adjusts you on his bed before pulling you up and helping you to the bathroom.

“You okay?”

“Mhmm” you hum, looking up at him while he helps you sit down, telling you where everything is before walking out to give you privacy.

He begins to pick up both of your clothes, setting them aside while he adjusts the bed for you to sleep in. He isn’t that heartless, he’s sure he’ll talk to you before you go home tomorrow, even if you manage to slip out before he wakes he knows you’ll be back, after all it’s not like you know anyone else that would sell to you.

He picks up the clothes again, your panties falling onto the floor. He looks up to make sure you’re still in the bathroom so you don’t see where he keeps your panties, it’s not like you would need them anyway.

He throws the rest of the clothes into his laundry basket, finding his phone to look for Eren’s contact.

[2:02am]You’re right, y/n is really cute.

[2:02am] She’s staying with me tonight.

“Who are you texting?”

Your voice startles him, he smiles before getting up to help you into his bed.

“No one important. Trust me”

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Athena

So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...

I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena

Lucifer

The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...

Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...

Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here. 

Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…

Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield… 

Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!

It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!

Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...

He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.

Mammon

To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.

They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.

They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over. 

Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!

They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)

So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes... 

Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.

MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...

Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?

MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?

Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*

MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂

Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…

MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.

Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?

... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️

Leviathan

Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.

What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!

It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...

Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.

The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up… 

However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?

Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory. 

MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*

Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?

MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*

Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???

MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*

Satan

Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.

He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...

He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.

He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...

At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!

It's confounding! It's infuriating!! 

...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!

Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.

Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️

The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…

Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…

Asmodeus 

They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?

Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...

First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…

Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.

Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.

And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.

Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!

MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?

Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.

Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…

MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.

Asmo: You’re going already??

MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*

Beelzebub 

Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.

He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️

No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!

Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night… 

And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…

It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢

After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…

The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓

Belphegor 

In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.

… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…

How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???

Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.

It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑 

They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully… 

And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...

Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...

He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!

Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…

Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Uhmmm.... so I had a prompt idea. What if hero arrested villain, and handed him to the authorites, and he basically told her that he'd make her pay for it. Then hero goes to the prison for a different reason weeks later, where she sees villain, terrified, sick, and drugged. So, she reluctantly takes him home and cares for him. She is scared he will attack her when he's lucid, but when he does fully wake up, he's just terrified.

This is such a good idea! I saw your submission right before I went to bed and laid there thinking about it, so as you can see I was quite excited to write it.

Paying For It

Warnings: threats, horrible treatment by authorities, left to be sick, fever, blood, drugged, forced sedation, unconsciousness, nightmares, smoking mention, paralysis (due to sickness), sick animal analogy, delirium

~

"You will pay for this," he growled as the handcuffs clicked into place. "I will make you you pay for this and not by money, no-" a chuckle "- I will hurt you."

Hero shuddered as she walked down the icy path back to the same prison that she recently turned Villain into. Horrible thoughts of that said villain breaking out and torturing her flooded into her mind, making her already chilly veins even colder. She hugged her fleece tighter around her and adjusted her scarf, suddenly wishing she wore her winter coat.

Before she knew it, Hero was trotting up the steps towards the concrete building. It was, by design, barren yet strong.

She had some documents to bring to the office. There was a new supervillain in town, actually more like ten, but Hero only managed to get information about the one. They most likely moved in after the biggest threat around, Villain, was arrested.

She opened the door, closing it quietly, and walked up to the desk. The hero, a young boy, most likely a sidekick holding down the fort while his mentor went to do something else, sitting up there was lazily playing a video game on his phone.

Hero coughed to get his attention. The boy didn't respond.

"Hello?" Hero asked.

The boy startled, tossing his phone backwards. "I wasn't," he defended, "on my phone, I swear."

"Uh huh," Hero grunted, sliding the papers over to the boy. "Where's your boss?"

"Probably smoking or something," the boy chuckled, then stopped and looked at Hero with a nervously apologetic expression. "I shouldn't have- you weren't meant to know."

Hero shook her head and said, "I don't care about my colleagues personal habits, but can you get him for me?"

The boy nodded and rushed off, returning later with a stern looking man.

"Superhero," Hero acknowledged, nodding slightly. He smiled then looked at the papers on the desk.

"Are these about..." He looked up at Hero.

"The new villain, yes," Hero finished his sentence, crossing her arms.

"Good, very good," Superhero momentarily flipped through them. In that silence, a thought bubbled up in Hero's mind.

"How's Villain?" She asked. "It's been awhile."

Superhero's face paled, as his toe nervously tapped the floor. Hero raised an eyebrow.

"We've had some... issues, so Villain is spending sometime in detention," Superhero said. He coughed, then said in an overly joyful tone, "Thanks for this Hero, do you want me to escort you to your car?"

"I would actually like to see Villain. Maybe I can, you know, talk to him about his behavior," Hero declined the offer, stepping in front of the papers. Something isn't right...

"Well you see, that wouldn't be beneficial. If anything it would be detrimental towards Villain's... redemption," Superhero pointed out, unconsciously chewing at his lip.

"We aren't a redemption center, Superhero," Hero said quietly, almost a whisper. "Let me see Villain or-" Hero grabbed the papers and proceeded to rip them "- these aren't your's."

Superhero rushed forward, putting his hands on top of Hero's and slid the papers back towards him. He gave a tiny smile and consented to her request.

They walked down the corridor and then down a couple flight of stairs until they reached a steel door with three locks- all with different keys. Hero watched with a stoned expression, thinking about what would happen if one of those keys were unfortunately lost...

"He's in here," Superhero spoke, dancing on his feet.

Hero stepped into the dark room, recognizing the detention cell that she helped invent, and flipped on the lights.

In the corner of the capacious cell, was a huddled figure. His back was towards her, legs spread out. With a pang in her chest, Hero walked up to him.

"V-villain," Hero breathed and crouched next to the figure. Villain whimpered and pulled himself deeper into himself, but his legs didn't seem to be connected to his brain.

Hero gently rolled Villain's head up to face her and nearly gasped when she took in the sight. He looked like a sick, stray cat. Mucus drained out of his nose as vomit spewed out from the corner of his mouth. His half-lidded eyes were bloodshot and had deep eyebags underneath with dried blood coating his cheeks. He had multiple, nasty cold sores all around his lips- or were they infected cuts? Maybe both.

"Why is he in this state?" Hero asked, astounded. This violated so many regulations and rules- the prison could be shut down, many heroes arrested or fined.

Superhero didn't respond. Instead, he appeared at Hero's side and crouched down next to Villain. The villain who didn't even seem to be aware of their presences.

Hero grabbed one of the wrists that were so protectively cuddled next to Villain's chest. He whimpered, trying to resist Hero's touch.

"No," he mumbled. "No no no no. Don't give... m-more... that mm stop." Villain started to breath heavily, his already fast pulse speeding up. With a heavy heart, Hero knew without even looking that he was drugged badly.

"Superhero... why?" Hero squeaked, turning over a wrist to see them heavily bruised and still bleeding from his most recent dose.

Villain started thrashing, but his legs wouldn't move.

"Why can't he move?" Hero asked, running a hand along Villain's shoulder. "Why can't he move his legs?!"

Superhero inhaled deeply then said, "He's very sick, uh... he probably has some sort of infection that makes it hard for him to move his lower body. Maybe, I don't really know."

"You don't even know what's wrong with your prisoner," Hero scoffed in disbelief, dragging Villain's limp body into her lap. She tried not to notice the wetness seeping into her jeans. It would only infuriate her that such a sick person would be kept in a wet and cold cell on top of being drugged daily without any medicines to help kick his fever.

"He's sick."

Obviously.

"I'm taking him home," Hero said, and scooped his way too light form up. His legs dangled uselessly, head falling off towards the side.

"That's illegal," Superhero pointed out. "He is in our custody now."

"And where does our rules permit excessive use of sedatives," Hero said in the same, authoritive tone. "Minimal use only to relax a distressed prisoner and only when necessary. Also, never to the point of unconsciousness." Hero gestured with her head towards Villain's closed eyes.

"And where do they permit us heroes to contain a villain on private property?" Superhero tutted. "Set him down and let me do my job."

"I'll call the authorities," Hero threatened, "and take you to court."

Superhero groaned and threw his hands in the air. That was not a risk he could take.

"Fine," he growled, storming out of the room, leaving Hero in silence other than the slow dripping from a leaky pipe.

She quickly tore off her fleece and wrapped Villain's shivering body up. His eyes fluttered open and he mumbled something incoherently, but that was all as his eyelids slipped closed once again.

Then, she carried his ragdoll-like body out of the prison, down those steps, and into her car.

She laid Villain's limp form on one of the backseats, propping his lolling head against the window and buckled him in. His arms hung lifeless at his sides, legs completely devoid of strength.

With a nervous whimper, Hero sped home.

At home, Hero took a warm washcloth and wiped off the dried blood and mucus to reveal unevenly toned skin underneath. She delicately picked the dry crust off his eyelashes and eyebrows. It was rock hard and the warm water wouldn't loosen it, so she was forced to pull on the tiny hairs. At least he wasn't conscious for the pinpoints of pain.

Hero suddered, thinking about what would happen when he did wake up. Surely, he would keep to his word and hurt her, beating her up for imprisoning him and then of course this newfound dilemma.

She looked down at his sleeping form and sighed. She had him elevated to make sure his airways stayed clear, but his head kept falling to the side and onto the backrest of her daybed. His lips quivered, forming soundless words and pleas.

Hero gently touched his forehead, retreating at the burning heat. His eyes slowly blinked open at the contact, he moaned, and then they rolled back again and closed.

Hero sat next to him for rest of the day, worriedly anticipating his attitude upon awakening. However, as the hours went on and Villain didn't seem to be regaining consciousness too much, Hero realized that they would be in for a roughly long time.

Villain was probably drugged like that the moment he entered that building and judging by his health and state of his wrists, Hero also guessed that there was no care whatsoever during the admission or the aftercare.

Hero ran her fingers over Villain's pale cheeks. His mouth was parted open and he snored slightly from the congestion. Tears leaked from his eyes, irritating the tender skin below. Hero went and grabbed some lotion, smearing the white cream over the red rashes.

Villain jerked away suddenly, curling into himself and protectively guarding his arms. His heavy breathing went shallower and quicker as tiny noises escaped his mouth. Hero sighed and stopped touching him; he was likely trapped in a nightmare.

Hours turned into days, and only then was Villain awake enough to be aware of Hero's looming presence.

Though, his reaction was not what Hero was expecting.

He screamed, shoving himself and his weak form to a corner of the bed and gathering his leaden limbs into a huddled mass of burning skin. He shrieked and sobbed, and watched Hero with wide, exhausted eyes.

"Leave me alone!" He yelled, pulling up the covers in a bade to protect himself. "Please."

Hero never once in her life felt so utterly useless.

She was, like Villain promised she would, paying for her actions.

[phantomphangphucker]

INVISOBANG - Ectoplasmic Educational Employment (Quirky Danny Fenton The Teacher? More Likely Than You Think!)

And the stellar artists that made art for this little fic o’ mine!: 

lanaecomics: ART CHECK IT OUT

AND

Trash Shipper; ART CHECK IT OUT

---

Danny isn’t exactly a fresh graduate with a lot of options after Highschool. College wasn’t happening and where the Hell was going to hire him? Mr. Lancer and CasperHigh apparently. As what? As a teacher. A teacher on the subject of ghosts, because of course everything in Danny’s life will be ghost-related. But maybe ghosts, ghost society at large, and even the goddamn Observants will actually think this is, like, a good? thing. He also, apparently, doesn’t suck at it. He’s still weird, eccentric, partly dead, and goddamn eighteen though

Prologue: Employing The Unemployable

Danny never really expected to graduate, honest to goodness he did not, yet his chronically-tardy-randomly-disappearing-handing-shit-in-late-or-never ass has managed to get that stupid slip of paper that was nearly basic necessity to get any halfway decent job; which was, frankly, a load of horse crap. Half the shit school taught was useless and most of it he wasn’t going to remember in three days none the less a year from now; or however long it took to find a job that actually required said useless knowledge. Though really? that wasn’t something he actually had to worry about, seeing as there was basically a zero percent chance of him having anything close to something even resembling a ‘normal’ job.

He could work for his folks? Financially lucrative and everything regarding the subject of ghosts has been effectively beaten into his brain by this point. Whether it was due to being around it so often or to save his own hide from his folks' inventions. He could also arguably get a shady as shit job, he was definitely skilled at lying, hiding, sneaking around, playing a role, even stealing and fighting. Plus a subordinate who can shoot energy beams and turn invisible would probably be a mob bosses, or whatever’s, wet dream. But, uh, that was probably not the best idea in the world; especially when Amity didn’t even have mobs and drugs and shit really. And why would they? They had freaking ghosts. Also having hallucinogenics would just be fucking overkill at this point. Plus Vlad already filled the quota for ‘dangerous men in dark suits that smoke cigars and drink whiskey while planning peoples demise or manipulating them like chess pieces".

Getting a job at the Nasty Burger would be easy enough but he’d get fired so fast. Ditto for working at the town’s only hotel or the gas stations or the grocery store or literally anywhere else minimum wage. Honestly, how the fuck do any of those fictional movie heroes have non-heroing related jobs? Excluding the super-rich ones with public identities anyways. Unrealistic. Completely unrealistic.

Sighing and flopping down on his bed, at least his friends didn’t have this issue. Manson’s don’t work and Tuck’s dumbass has hacked every single security and tech company in at least their entire state so they were basically all scrambling to hire his hacker ass. Val has the Nasty Burger -not that she’d be staying there once she graduated- and not to mention having Vlad’s very very deep pockets at her disposal. Speaking of Val though... Danny chuckles up at the ceiling, “honestly it’s funny as Hell that Val got held back but I didn’t. I mean really? How the fuck did that happen?”, shaking his head and laughing quietly a little more. The rest of the Defect Quartet got a good laugh out of that. Sam and Tuck were never at risk of not graduating, it was just Val and his ass that was a worry. Eh whatever. At least Dash’s dumbass got held back too; not seeing that jocks blonde mug at graduation was goddamn euphoric. It truly, truly was.

Well for now, all Danny can really do is wait, enjoy not having to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to go to school, and hope his folks don’t start go getting on his ass to get work that’s ‘normal’ so he has the experience. To be fair, him knowing what it’s like to work at a normal job would normally be a damn good idea, if he wasn’t a literal superhero who also just so happens to be kinda dead. Dead people shouldn’t have to work in his opinion, but life and deaths not fair so whatever. At least his poor abused bed was soft as shit though, that was something.

Danny nearly jumps out of his skin when his mom knocks on the door, jerking him out of his thoughts, “sweetie! It’s Mr. Lancer! He wants to talk to you!”. Oh Ancients fuck, why? Hopefully, graduation comes with a no tack backsies rule or something because that would be just his luck. Danny swings up his legs and gets up off his bed, mildly shouting, “coming!”. Popping open his door while his mom gives him a seriously judgemental ‘you better not have done something stupid’ raised eyebrow as she hands him the phone; him smiling sheepishly as he takes the phone and re-closes his bedroom door.

Eyeballing the phone with just a mild amount of apprehension before putting it to his ear, “yeah? What’s up, Lance?”.

“Hello Daniel, how’s life as a graduate treating you?”.

Danny chuckles, “that depends on whether or not you’re about to tell me I didn't actually graduate and some kind of wild and unlikely mistake popped up”.

Lancer actually laughs lightly at that, “no nothing like that, you graduated fairly, Daniel. Though considering your poor attendance I’m not surprised you’d be suspicious”. Danny grins to himself a little at that but fuck, not his fault man. Not his fault... Technically. “I was actually wondering how job searching is treating you. Working for your parents seems... less than safe even if that seems like the obvious choice for you”.

Danny nods to himself and chuckles, too true there. Smirking a little, “oh if anyone knows how dangerous FentonWorks is, it’s me”. Sometimes he’s honestly amazed no one’s ever called CPS on him or anything. FentonWorks was a death trap waiting to happen, literally; him being walking proof and all that. Shrugging to himself, “and you know I’m not exactly suited for a nine to five, Lance”, and he’s not even going to mention the fact that Vlad would hire him in a heartbeat because that is so not happening no matter how ‘good-ish’ the man was nowadays. Working for him would be a dangerous game no matter how Danny looked at it; for both of them.

“I don’t think I could even imagine you working an office job or as a cashier. But if not nine to five, then how about noon to three?”.

Danny blinks at that, huh? “um what?”, shaking his head a little and blinking again, “short shift there but you know me, how often did I ever stay in class for the full forty minutes, or whatever?”.

“Fifty-five, Daniel, And I’m sure you could stay for an hour given the right encouragement and approach”.

Danny sighs and tilts his head back, “I don’t need money that badly, man, geez”, shaking his head, “what are you even suggesting though?”. Is Lancer seriously offering him a job? Where even? Short as shit hours though, which technically worked well-ish for him. He never has a consistent time slot where no ghosts show up though.

“Well I’m sure your parents have heard about the ecto-ology class the school board decided to pass”, Lancer grumbling seemingly to himself, “long time coming if you ask me, too long”, speaking up a bit, “your class should have had it, not that you needed it”.

Danny snorts, fair point there, “yeah I could probably have taught it better than the damn teacher”, blinking, wait a fucking minute, “Lancer what the fuck. Are you asking me to teach it???”. What the actual shit. Sure, he could do it, technically, but still. The fuck, shaking his head, “don’t you, you know, need schooling to be a teacher? And come on, I am the exact opposite of teacher material, or whatever”. Seriously, the Hell. The Ancients are probably actively mocking him right now. That or Danny’s totally wrong and making a complete ass of himself.

“You’re irresponsible and... eccentric, yes, but you’re intelligent and excitable about your interests; and really, a teacher is someone who’s hyper interested and passionate about their field of education”, Danny can almost hear a smirk in Lancer’s voice, “don’t even try to tell me you’re not passionate about ecto-ology, I’ve overheard more than enough conversations between you and your friends to know otherwise. Though yes, the number of times I’ve heard you mention ghost jail was more than a little concerning. Especially when it sounded like it was personal on-the-inside experience”.

Danny blinks, “Lance, you frighten me. Now I’m seriously wondering even more why the school never called on my folks, or whatever”. This just in, apparently a vice principal was perfectly willing to just ignore a student going to jail in an alternate dimension. Repeatedly.

“As if that would actually help. Your parents are good, if crazy and negligent, people. And I have a feeling you’re perfectly capable of getting into trouble without their involvement. So what do you say? It’s completely within my power to hire you on the spot”.

Danny pulls the phone away from his cheek and makes wild hand gestures at it, again what the fuck. Though yeah, his folks aren’t half bad, excluding the whole ectophobia thing. Scrunching up his face at his phone before returning it to his cheek, “uh thanks? You know, for not getting my folks in shit”, shaking his head and smirking a little, “so you know a lot of the trouble is just me being me and you’re inviting me to once again spend five days a week at one of the local ghost hotspots? Do you like suffering, Lance?”.

That actually gets a laugh out of the vice-principal, “the ghosts certainly keep things interesting but no, hiring you instead of your parents would reduce the chaos. Your parents are far bigger trouble makers than you ever have been”.

“That feels like a challenge”. Danny absolutely smirks to himself over the sigh that comment gets him before continuing, “though yeah, my dad plus the school five days a week sounds like you’d be actively begging the universe to blow up the entire place while simultaneously covering it in green goo and maybe accidentally teleporting it to an alternate dimension. To be fair, dad’s only managed that twice on the house so far”. And his mom still won’t let the man live down either event, understandable. Sighing, his parents being walking collateral damage machines was useful in school since it kept nearly every teacher from calling them in, but now it was mildly biting him in the ass. Though now that he’s thinking about... who else could the school call in? Val was still in school and the school didn’t officially know about her ‘extracurricular activities’ -though Danny would bet an entire model rocket that most of the teachers knew or at least had a very very good guess- so she was out. Then there was the G.I.W. which... just no. Fuck no. Super bad idea. So that just left his ass, and fine, arguably it would be a decent enough job and Lancer wasn’t exactly wrong about Danny knowing his shit and being a bit excitable about ghosts. He couldn’t help it alright? He was raised on it and actually excelled at it. Plus, he was a ghost; knowing was survival. Plus plus, having someone who isn’t ectophobic teach the ghost class would probably be a good idea. Val was better but... she tried to use the Box Ghost’s face as a battering ram because her closet door got stuck last week, ‘nough said. Sighing again, “okay fine, I think you’re inviting disaster but all your other options would also do that”.

Lancer laughs lightly and sips something, probably tea knowing the man, “agreed. So you’ve got the summer to come up with a curriculum, nothing too serious for the first semester so I’m sure you can handle it”. Danny scowls audibly, though fine how much harder could making a teaching thingy be than overthrowing corrupt ghost government/royals? Fuck him entirely. “Don’t worry, I’ll send over some useful tips and tricks, a little guide; because you are right, typically teachers go to school to learn how to teach”.

Danny gives one very sarcastic and deadpanned, “you don’t say”, in response to that. Great, now he’s got homework over summer, just really weird homework that’ll technically include creating homework for other people. Weeee. Fun. Ugh. But hey, maybe this’ll actually not suck. Shaking his head and chuckling a little, “you know, I’m starting to think you might actually like me, Lance”.

Lancer simply laughs faintly at that. “How about we meet up sometime next week and I’ll see how far you’ve gotten and your ideas”.

Danny leans his head back, “ugh fine”, grumbling to himself, “oh Ancients I’m ‘hanging out’ with my old teacher, fuck me”, and hangs up though more than a little sure that Lancer probably heard that last bit.

Danny rubs his eyes in circles after a bit, sighing again, and picks up his cellphone.

thealiveone: guess who got a job offer first? Suck it tuck

PDAxpda : bullshit, where????

thealiveone: lets just say that lance decided I needed to see things from my poor teachers persepectives

PDAxpda: oh god XD poor casperhigh

Nightshade: So youre becoming part of the ststem? Really Danny?

Nightshade: but with fhosts

PDAxpda: ha! You’re becoming your parents!

thealiveone: HEY! AM NOT!

thealiveone: ...kinda

thealiveone: but hey, ghost teachin bout ghoss. Love the irony

Nightshade: 🙄

thealiveone: ancients be happy for a guy why dontcha geez

thealiveone: even if it’s stupid

thealiveone: and I’ll totally wind up having to ditch and be late and shit

PDAxpda: typical you

thealiveone: 😢

Nightshade: fine but at least be a quirky ‘teacher’ and not some lame rule follower ass

thealiveone: me? Not be quirky? Fuckin riiiiiiiight

PDAxpda: *snort*

thealiveone: anywhay

thealiveone: think I should do a bit on ghost hunger just to make lance regret his chocoes?

Nightshade: 🤦🏻‍♀️

PDAxpda: YES!!!

thealiveone: 😏

Danny had ideas now, and he was about to make them EVERYBODY'S PROBLEM. As he should.

Chapter 2: Cursed From Entry Level

Today was the day, yup it certainly was; Danny side-eyes his ghost-shaped alarm clock. The first Monday of a new school year; which normally shouldn’t mean shit to him since he graduated and all that but fuck his dumbass agreed to turn around and come right back as a goddamn teacher. Why did he do that? That was stupid. Well not really but now that it’s a little past eleven and he has to actually get up, get dressed, and go do the thing that he agreed to do. Fuck. Responsibilities suck. And if anyone’s allowed to say that it’s him, superhero responsibilities kinda outclass all others so suck it. Sighing and flopping an arm over his eyes, had he been smart and bought teacher clothes? No. Or prepared an introduction speech thingy? Also no. Or even bothered to tell literally anyone other than his friends and family that he now worked at CasperHigh? Definitely no, let the fuckers be surprised. He had, however, printed out copies of the syllabus; which fine, was largely because Lancer nagged him about it so much that he did it out of spite. Danny bets being manipulative was totally something taught in teacher school; not that Danny really particularly needed to be taught that… especially when he could just go to Vlad for that kind of ‘tutoring’, not that he actually would. Regardless, he now officially had to get up.

Sighing very loudly into his arm before moving to push himself up and walk over to his closet; did any of his shit qualify as ‘professional’? Haha fuck no. But oh well, screw it. Might as well lean into this ghost teacher thing and the ’Fenton’s are eccentric weirdos’ thing. Time for a ‘I Got A Boo Boo On My Funny Bone Isn’t That Very Humerus?’ sweater and some crust punk pants that are more patches than fabric. He is so not wearing a tie or bow tie though, bandana? Shrugging he nabs up a little alien one that had only a couple small ectoplasm stains, “if anyone asks, lab accident”, and smirks to himself while tying the thing around his neck, shrugging, then heading downstairs for breakfast.

His dad looks up and grins, waving a hand while the other’s still tinkering away on some gun, “morning Danno! Heading off to school?”, tilting his head and chuckling heartily, “or to teach, I should say!”.

Danny rolls his eyes but smiles and chuckles, moving to grab out the cereal, “yup, bet it’s gonna be interesting. My poor fellow teachers”, Danny absolutely smirks at that, because damn they’re gonna hate Lancer for a while once they realise they’re stuck with him for who knows how long. Sure he’ll only be actually there for, like, what an hour or two or so? Eh something like that. He honestly hopes Lancer didn’t tell all the teachers because he absolutely wants to see all of them look at him, do a double-take, and sigh in resigned defeat and pain. Danny can’t help snickering a bit to himself as he eats his food and his dad goes back to tinkering; though with a far bigger grin on his face.

Danny actually manages to get out the door just as his mom’s coming up from the lab, her waving at him erratically, “have a good day at work, sweetie!”, she sounds more than just a little excited to be saying ‘work’ in regards to him. Did make some sense, seeing as he didn’t exactly have any kind of real job opportunities. At least neither of them tried to insist on driving him there, letting him get in a good midday fly instead; one of these days they are seriously going to wonder how the heck he gets places so fast without driving.

-

Landing behind the school in his usual spot Danny takes a few steps back and just kinda stares up at the building for a hot minute, “I don’t know whether this feels nostalgic, daunting, or just surreal”, shaking his head, “well I guess I just better get to it, everyone should be in class right now... right?”, tilting his head as he turns invisible and intangible, stepping through the wall, “how the fuck have I already forgotten the schedule? Ancients”. Thankfully there is, in fact, not a single person and/or spirit in the hallway. He even effectively avoids everyone on his way to the teachers' lounge and successfully uses the key Lancer gave him to get in. Of course, it’s not empty inside though, expected honestly.

Danny pokes his head in and immediately spots Mr. CampBell and grins wickedly, “heeeey”; and the teacher damn near jumps out of his skin before snapping his head around to the door. Mr. CampBell visually recoils, “oh god why are you here?”.

Score! Lancer absolutely did not tell the staff. Danny snickering as he waltzes in, “oh don’t you know? Lancer hired me”. Mr. CampBell turns away and sighs very loudly, Danny absolutely hearing the whispered, “why? I thought William actually liked his coworkers”. Danny only snickers meanly as Lancer walks out from around one of the corners, “we needed an ecto-ology teacher, he’s a perfectly reasonable choice, Joseph”. Huh, so that’s CampBell’s first name. Lancer then turning to Danny and handing him off a coffee cup, gesturing to the corner he just walked out around, “there’s more in the kitchen, since I’m well aware you practically live on the stuff”.

Danny blinks, grins, and moans comically, “oh my Ancients, there’s free coffee in here”.

Lancer quirks an eyebrow faintly at that, “I did tell you”.

Danny shrugs, “eh I thought you were just trying to sweeten the deal for me, Lance”, then taking a sip, “pretty weak shit though”. Lancer quirks his eyebrow further, “it’s free, Daniel”. Danny rolls his eyes, “yeah well, I think I’ll bring in some Deathwish”.

Joseph gives him one very concerned look, “is that an official real coffee or something your crazy parents made?”, he sounds more than a little hesitant for the answer there. Good. Danny smirks, “oh it’s real, and lives up to the name, drinking the cold brew might actually kill you from botulism. The regular coffee is only the world’s strongest stuff though”, then finger-gunning at the man.

Lancer shakes his head as he sits down on the couch, “you concern me some days”, pursing his lips, “most days”, then sips at his coffee. Joseph shakes his head, “I’m just going to head to my classroom”, pointing at Lancer, “you keep that demon child’s classroom consistent, I do not want that ectoplasm stuff getting mixed with Charles’s science nerd stuff”, and throws Danny a scowl before leaving.

Lancer shakes his head before looking to Danny, “your classroom is going to be consistent though, considering I know exactly how often your homework had to be put in biohazard instead of the filing cabinets”. Danny rubs his neck a bit sheepishly at that while Lancer leans forwards, arms on his knees, “do you have everything ready? I could sit in on your first few classes if you’d like”.

Danny snorts, “somehow I think that would just get me mocked, Lance”, smirking, “but that depends on how much you want to leave me unsupervised with a bunch of teens and ectoplasmic substances”.

“You’re... not bringing out ectoplasm on the first day, are you?”.

Danny snickers, “maybe...”. Lancer sighs very loudly but Danny decides to take some amount of pity on the man, “mostly I brought ecto-proofing stuff since I don’t think you want to be replacing stuff a bajillion times. Anyway, can I paint the whiteboard ectophobic green? I mean the ectophobic bit laterally”. Lancer only sighs louder but does nod while putting his face in his hand. Smart man. Danny should probably just go ahead and do that immediately though, the walls and desks and stuff can happen later or fuck he can just make it an assignment because why the fuck not?!? Danny downing the rest of the coffee, clapping his legs, and getting up, “whelp I’mma go do that then”. Lancer speaking up just before he gets to the door, “I will be checking in on you, but feel free to call or ‘text away’ if you need anything”. Danny cringes a little but nods.

Are the hallways empty this time? Nope. Does Danny’s mere presence cause a bunch of whispering as he’s heading to his assigned classroom? Absolutely. Everyone knew who the Fenton’s were, he himself might have techically been a ‘loser weirdo’ but he was also simultaneously popular in the infamous kinda way, especially at school. Most of the comments -that his wonderful ghostly hearing let’s him pick up on easily- are along the lines of ‘guess he didn’t graduate, no surprise there’ or ‘why the fuck’s he here?’, some of the freshmen react with mock horror though so that’s amusing. When Danny gets to his designated room he absolutely spends his before class time painting the board and just throws the rest of his stuff on the provided desk. He is not a tidy person and that is so not gonna change.

He was, however, so not prepared for Val to walk through the door first though. Her and Danny making eye contact, Danny blinking, “‘kay why the fuck would you be here?”. She gives him a dumb look, “hey you yourself, Danny”, then scrunches up her face and sags, “oh my Zone, you are seriously the teacher? You were serious about that? We’re all gonna die”. Danny just smirks while she slumps down in a desk, him scribbling his name on the board quickly; Ancients if anyone calls him ‘Mr. Fenton’ he’ll gag. Speaking of gagging though, putting his class right after lunch was probably not the smartest move on the principal's part. Gives him the perfect excuse to do something weird and just eat ectoplasm or something.

Valerie bangs her head on the desk before looking back up to him, putting her chin in a palm, “though I guess I am kinda curious what the heck you’ll teach with this, you’re always so tightlipped about ghost stuff”.

Danny chuckles and shakes his head a little, glancing back to her before turning around to sit down in his provided chair, not nearly enough burn holes yet to actually feel like his though. He’ll have to fix that, “with you. We don’t exactly see eye to eye on things”. She scoffs at that and rolls her eyes, but other fellow teens are coming in so she doesn’t give him any kind of actual response.

Every single teen does at least a slight pause at seeing Danny in the teacher's chair before taking seats. some say nothing, some swear lightly, others groan, and then there’s goddamn Dash??? Why was that jock taking this class? Better yet, why did it have to be Danny’s luck that Dash would even want to.

“Well if it isn’t Fenturd”. At least half the class snickers or coughs to cover laughs.

Danny glares at the jock, “I can give detentions now, don’t be stupid”, smirking, “or I can just designate you as the ‘helping hand’ and you can handle all the ectoplasmic shit I am absolutely going to bring in”. Dash takes his seat real quick after that while Val’s busy snickering at his expense.

Danny leans back in his chair as the bell goes off, “whelp, guess this is happening now”. Valerie puts her head down and laughs a little, a couple other teens laughing a little themselves while Danny continues, “okay, so obviously I’m the teacher, which honestly? more than a few of you should have seen that one coming”, nodding to himself, “now in case you somehow do not know who I am and also somehow missed Dash being an ass and calling me ‘Fenturd’, I’m Danny Fenton the youngest Fenton, and yeah I’m your teacher because literally no one else is remotely qualified or safe enough to do this”.

More than a few people mutter ‘that's fair’ or something similar. His folks being walking talking time bombs wasn’t exactly a secret and the G.I.W. were honestly more dangerous than the ghosts.

Danny chuckles to himself, digs in his backpack and gets up, “and also, in case you didn’t even bother to look at the class you agreed to take or what was written on the class schedule thingy”, Danny cups the little semi-solid ball of ectoplasm and slaps it on the whiteboard, it spattering across neon green and glowing, “welcome to Ecto-ology! And that!-”, pointing at the green splattered board, “-that’s ectoplasm!”, then shaking a jar of SignalShines -little tiny firefly-like blob ghosts- on the little tray attached to the whiteboard typically used for the markers, “and that’s some ghosts! Some very tiny ghosts”.

Valerie snorts and laughs, muttering, “oh no”, into her hand. Since she obviously figured out that Danny wasn’t going to even attempt at being a ‘normal fucking teacher’. Most of the class snickers and starts laughing after a bit, that or eyeballing the ectoplasm splatter/ghost-filled jar. Danny waving the board and everything off limply, “I ecto-proofed the whiteboard already so don’t bother calling the ecto-hazard line”, then making a point to sound ominous and mildly threatening, “they won’t come”. Which absolutely gets him more laughs and a couple shivers, seeing as he could actually legit pull off scary if he felt like it. Perks of being a ghost and ridiculously highly combative and confrontational.

Danny absolutely hands the syllabus paper stack to Dash to hand out, largely as payback for the name-calling. “So since this year this class is only an optional elective, being a trial run and all that, lets do the whole introduce-yourselves-even-though-I-already-know-who-you-all-are thing with why you took this class and, for funsies, who’s your favourite ghost”. Dash does give him a dirty look, which Danny smirks over, but what follows is people saying their names and giving reasons and shit.

Danny decides to smear around the whiteboard ectoplasm to write down ghost names and tally up how many people say that ghost. Is it mostly Phantom? Yes; even Val votes for him but that’s understandable since she actually got along with Phantom, for the most part, these days. Somehow the Box Ghost earns the second most tallies, Ember’s in third not all that surprising, and two people actually threw a vote Johnny’s way. As for why people took the class?

Well Valerie claims she wants to know more about ghosts and leaves it at that, earning some eye-rolls from the class seeing as everyone knew how she felt about the spookies. Dash took it because a Fenton was teaching, which is information Danny doesn’t know what to do with; what the fuck does that mean? And everyone else? To learn about ghosts (sure), for self-defence (good reason actually. Practical), better than the other electives (fair and probably accurate), easy grade (or so they think... maybe), because it absolutely was going to be chaotic (hundred percent yes). Danny’s content and smirking just a little bit.

Danny sits on the corner of his desk -why not?- and waves a hand around limply, “alright, semi-proper introduction of myself. I’m sure pretty much all of you are damn well aware of FentonWorks and it being basically the only ecto-tech company -besides the ever overpriced Dalvco- and that it is responsible for all the shields and ecto-weapons and all that jazz in town. Surprise surprise, I’ve worked on or outright built a lot of that stuff”, sounding incredibly sarcastic, “truly shocking, I know”, earning him a couple snickers/laughs. “Now you might think that since my folks literally invented the stuff and are some of the only published scientists in the field of ecto-ology that they’re more qualified to do this teacher thing, ignoring the fact that they would probably blow the classroom up or accidentally get everyone teleported into the ghost Zone randomly”, pointing at the class, “not an exaggeration”, before continuing properly, “but guess what? They've never actually explored the Zone or sat down and actually talked to a ghost”, putting a hand to his chest, “I, however, have. So yeah, qualified”; and snaps his fingers a bit dramatically.

James mutters, “not sure that actually means qualified”; and he’s not the only one. Expected, seeing as Danny was not actually qualified to be a teacher obviously.

Danny sticks up a finger, “I have no teacher qualifications though, but Lance decided he just does not care”, getting up and walking to the board, moving around the ectoplasm, “and as for my fav ghostie, you’ve never heard of them”, and scrawls out ‘ClockWork’ on the list of favourite ghosts. Turning back to the class, “ClockWork’s existence is mildly forbidden knowledge, so have fun with-”, Haley shrieking interrupts and most of the class going wide-eyed gets him to turn around and see the very well done drawing of ClockWork looking right at Danny with a glare, there is an ‘I’m flattered, Daniel’ written under it though so... Danny can’t help but bend over wheezing a little, “oh I so saw that coming!”, shaking his head and chuckling, “or something similar at least”. Okay he expected to get smacked over the head with an invisible staff out of nowhere, not a passive-aggressive yet still somehow fond drawing. Straightening up and turning back to the class while whipping at his eye, “y’all signed up for this, remember that”.

Danny sits down and starts going over the syllabus, because that’s what he’s supposed to do, but Jesse interrupts him halfway through, “are we just ignoring everything that just happened with the magic drawing?”. Danny looking at him and smirking, “a good rule of thumb in life is when the literal god of time chastises you, you move on immediately. Just good life advice if you want to keep doing the whole living thing”. Expectedly that gets him a lot of staring. Danny rolls his wrist around, “that Vortex ghost is also a god by the by. Same with UnderGrowth. Pandora’s a minor god technically”, tilting his head, “then there’s the whole mess of Pariah who’s pretty much just a way worse version of Hades”, smirking, “Amity’s seen some big names in the ghost world”.

“What the fuck”.

Danny just snickers at that while Valerie puts her head in her hands and shakes it.

Surprisingly the rest of the class is seemingly going normally, Lancer did stick his head in and eyeball the whiteboard which Danny gave him a ‘what did you expect from me? Honestly’ smirk for, and surprisingly no one decided to ask Danny how the actual fuck he knew the time god if they even believed him on that anyway. But maybe five minutes before class is over, Danny’s ghost sense goes off, because of fucking course, but it just feels like Boxy. So Danny, smirking, checks his phone to use as some kind of excuse for how he knows the Box Ghost’s here, gets up and goes to the window, opening it up, sticking his head out, and shouting, “HEY BOXY!”. That, of course, gets the ghost's attention immediately, who does his scary fingers thing, “YOU DARE DRAW THE ATTENTION OF THE MOST FEARSOME GHOST IN EXISTENCE! THE BOX GHOST!”. Danny just rolls his eyes, points towards the whiteboard in the classroom and shouts back, “WE DID A POLL! YOU'RE THE SECOND MOST FAVOURITE GHOST!”. The Box Ghost stares at him for a bit, goes a little wide-eyed, floats towards the ground, and starts crying. Danny pulls his head back in while cackling, looking back to the class, “congrats, we’ve just made the Box Ghost cry”; which absolutely makes everyone start laughing as the bell goes off. Danny smirking more, “I feel very accomplished with myself”.

Surprisingly most of his freaking students actually wave him goodbye, which is weird as heck but also kinda cool, Dash just scowls at him though; get fucked dick-weed. Val stays behind a bit, expected, and sits on the corner of his desk, “so this is really happening, huh?”.

“Yup. Guess so”, leaning back in his chair a little, “you gonna turn this into a debate club or?”, chuckling, “though I doubt you’ll actually learn a whole lot”. She nods at that, “I could probably teach this myself”, grumbling, “if I wasn’t still stuck as a student”, sighing, “I’m not gonna argue in class though, I know you’re ghost friendly, Danny, that’s gonna show obviously”, shrugging and smirking a little, “I just might need a little bit more proof before I take your word on something”.

“Just for that I’m going to bring in Cujo next class”.

“You wouldn’t”.

Danny smirks, “try me. He’ll really liven up the lesson on classifications of ghost types. Truly he is one of the best examples of an animal ghost”. She sounds downright offended, “then bring in a freaking ectopuss! Not the life-ruining dog!”.

“But everyone loves dogs, Val”, Danny smirks, “besides, ectopusses aren’t proper animal ghosts, they’re a type of blob ghost”. She grumbles a bit incoherently before muttering, “dick”, and leaving for her next class; leaving Danny chuckling.

(And Valerie absolutely spent the next day’s class glaring bloody murder at a tiny green puppy, inspiring slight fear and concern in her classmates; Danny just looked progressively more smug which only made his students more concerned).

-

Before Danny actually managed to leave the school, since he didn’t actually have to be there outside of his one class though something tells him that if the ecto-ology trial run works out then he’ll be stuck ‘teaching’ it two or three times a day. Ugh but also so much potential chaos. Anyway, Lancer catches up to him, sounding just slightly out of breath, “your first teaching experience go well, Daniel?”.

Danny smirks, “brought a ghost to tears, only made one mild ecto-hazard, and possibly annoyed a few thousand ghost cops; so good day actually”. Lancer stares at him a little, “should I be concerned”. Reasonable question.

“Maybe”, Danny chuckles, “to be fair, me teaching people about ghosts was absolutely going to piss off the eyeballs, said eyeballs are some ghost cops, it’s complicated”, chuckling a little though sounding/being a bit serious, “technically I really am the best choice for this, I know more than my folks or the G.I.W. do by miles”, smiling softly and a bit pitying a little, “and I know somethings that the living aren’t exactly supposed to”.

Lancer eyes him and shakes his head slightly, “I know, Daniel. I know”. Danny absolutely quirks an eyebrow at that because what the Hell does Lancer mean by that? So he just gives a simple, “oh?”, for a response; weak as shit but it’ll have to do. Lancer nods, “I’m not as oblivious as I let the students think, so yes I know. Though try to keep your, ghost activities let’s say, outside of the classroom? Don’t bring students into your spat with ghost cops”.

Danny actually coughs, again what the fuck. Shaking his head a little bug-eyed, “again, you scare me, Lance”, shaking his head again, “though no, their problem with me is the fact that I exist, so”, and shrugs; Danny is still a little goddamn thrown here. Lancer sighs, “I guess I should have expected that. And I’ll admit to having some questions about that, but-”, putting a hand on Danny’s shoulder, “-I don’t truly need an answer there”. Danny, for a lack of knowing what else to do, finger guns; Lancer looks less than impressed.

Chapter 3: Ghosts In The Know

It takes a total of three days for a ghost to actually show up during Danny’s designated class time -the Box Ghost and ClockWork’s sudden appearances don’t count- and while Danny’s fairly certain Lancer at least has some kind of guess about the whole Phantom thing Danny’s not going to just go ghost in goddamn class; that would have been dumb when he was a student and it would only be dumber to do as a freaking teacher. At least as a student he didn’t have a class worth of people somewhat staring at him. But hey at least he had just been facing the whiteboard when his breath decided to be all icy fog, that was something; him watching it frost up the board for a couple of seconds and attempting to verbally steamroll right over the random sudden pause in his speaking. He also absolutely can hear Val’s scanner do its little proximity warning beep.

“-but we’re not talking about Cores today even if that’s unique to proper ghosts, so not getting into that right now”. Turning around and putting down the marker, seeing as he can’t exactly just let Skulker go running around. “Now I’ll be right back”, he almost says ‘bathroom’ but as a teacher he doesn’t need to do that shit anymore, he doesn’t have to justify himself to fucking nobody. But just before he gets to the door he points at Val, who’s mouth is slightly open and is definitely absolutely about to ask if she can go, so he smirks, “and no. You can’t”. She looks so confused and a bit freaked out that he can’t help laughing. He does catch James mutter, “did he just pull his bathroom thing? Seriously?”; which just makes Danny laugh to himself even more as he ducks off around a corner to transform.

He doesn’t have to go very far seeing as Skulker was practically directly outside of the area where his classroom was, looking supremely confused and quirking a robotic eyebrow with his arms crossed at Danny, “really, whelp?”. Danny flips him off and shoots him one in the face pretty well immediately, which starts off their standard combat. Skulker shooting off a rocket with a snide and definitely meant to be insulting comment of, “never would have pegged you for teaching or for telling humans our secrets”.

Danny near shouting back with a snort, “secrets my ass! Shove a floppy disk in it!”. That very predictably gets him a more well-aimed rocket to the face.

-

Meanwhile, in the classroom, Jesse glances around, “should we even be surprised?”.

“No but since he’s, you know, the teacher, I’m pretty sure he shouldn’t be playing hooky or whatever”.

Valerie snorts, “oh as if Lancer didn’t know what he was getting into here. Besides Danny was never going to be a normal anything”. Dash smirks and laughs meanly, “no shit, damn freak”. Valerie absolutely throws an eraser at him for that.

“I’m more curious how he predicted Valerie pulling her own bathroom thing”.

“Obvious answer there, he does it so he knows it”.

“Damn, got a point”.

Valerie grumbles and crosses her arms, “and here I thought he’d be totally cool with that”. Emilie laughing, “yeah you’d think, especially if he was going to keep doing it”. Todd pushes himself to stand up with a smirk, “Well I vote we go through his desk, this is Danny after all”; more than a few people look curious, some look cautious though.

Valerie blinking, before smirking and laughing to herself, “yes, go right ahead, do that, see what happens”. That earns even more cautious looks. Valerie knew Danny, had been in his house and room, she knew exactly what kind of state those two places were in. His desk drawers were absolutely boobytrapped. Todd, however, doesn’t give a shit, and just shrugs while moving up to said desk.

Valerie isn’t even slightly surprised when a bunch of snakes-in-a-can pop out of the very first drawer Todd opens, they’re all green because of course they are. Todd mutters a slightly startled, “fuck”, and kicks one of the snakes.

“HA! Suck it, Todd”.

James shakes his head, eyeing the green fake snakes, “I have a feeling that everything in this class is going to be ghost-themed”. Valerie rolls her eyes, “obviously, have you somehow missed the ghost-themed clothing? Or the fact that Danny is, and has always been, a damn pun machine?”. Over half the class groans or chuckles. Valerie rolling her hand and leaning back, “pretty sure he was wearing a pair of Sam’s platforms today, the ones with little plastic green ghosts shaking around inside”. Dash mutters almost absently, “huh, so that’s why he seems taller today”.

“Dash... why are you noticing his freaking height”.

“Shut up, Jesse. I can’t physically shove him in lockers anymore but I sure as shit can imagine it”.

Valerie sighs very loudly at that, but at least Dash wasn’t quite stupid enough to try bullying a teacher. Even if that teacher was Danny and the same age as him. Which, talk about wild. She honestly did not believe Danny for a second when he said he would be teaching at CasperHigh and yet here he was. Teaching. It was definitely weird, but at least nothing had blown up yet. Hopefully Phantom went and dealt with Skulker though, she’d think Danny would be one who let people leave whenever, guess not. Her scowling a little over that. Todd opening up another drawer and a black and white ghost popping their head out jerks her right out of her head though. Todd falling on his ass and scrambling back, “holy shit! What the fuck!”.

James blinks and wheezes, standing up like basically everyone else, “Danny had a whole ass ghost in his desk, what?!?”. Said ghost floats up, looks around, and waves; while the entire class just stands there, many with ecto-pistols drawn at this point.

“I’m picking up a lot of hostility here, busters”.

Todd grumbles, “you have got to be shitting me”. The ghost tilts their head, “I don’t think Phantom would like that very much. Totally not tubular”. Valerie facepalms and lowers her small blaster, “you’re that old ghost that haunts one of Danny’s old lockers, aren’t you”. The ghost gives her a thumbs up, “that’s the dealio!”.

“... and why were you just in his desk drawer?”.

The ghost crosses their skinny arms and huffs, “when I picked up on the Ha-Danny being here again I had to make sure that buster wasn’t up to his bully ways again”. Dash actually burst out laughing and drops back into his seat at that, “Fenton?!? A bully?!? Man what are you smoking?!?”; which the ghost gives him a very strange look for.

“Poindexter, by the Ancients, how many times do I have to tell you that I wasn’t being a bully, I was getting back at one. Geez”. The entire class goes still and snaps their heads around to Danny, who’s just casually walking in. Dash muttering, “I knew that twerp was the one screwing with me”.

Poindexter rolls his eyes, “like I believe that, buster. Someone would have to be a real dummy to do that to you”. Danny very obviously glares at the ghost, “I said that Dash is a bully, not that he’s smart”. Dash scowls very audibly, “I’ll make you eat those words, Fentit”. Danny instantly holds up a pink detention slip and smirks, while Dash very obviously holds back shouting expletives at him. The ghost just looks confused. Danny turning to the ghost, having to look up a little as he takes his seat, “like I said, not smart”. Dash just scowls while Danny continues speaking but while looking at the class instead of the ghost, “so where were we?”.

Amber blinks, “are we just ignoring the ghost that popped out of your desk?”; while everyone starts sitting back down slowly.

Danny quirking an eyebrow at the ghost, “why, man?”. While Amber tosses up her hands and sits back down too.

“I was looking for anything suspicious. Never know with you”.

Emilie chuckles to herself, “I like how ghosts apparently find him as suspicious as people do”. Earning her a few nods.

Dash rolls his eyes, “oh like what, ghost-themed pencils? A change of underwear in case his own class scares him?”. Danny starting to hold up another pink slip shuts the jock up real quick. Poindexter looks genuinely surprised and turns to Danny, “hold the phone, you sayin’ that rumour that everyone thinks you’re afraid of ghosts is actually the real deal???”. Danny just sighs, “it was a very good and effective way out of my folks trying to make a hunter of me”. While practically half the class shouts, “THAT WAS FAKE!”, including one stunned Dash who had thought he was being so smart and cruel by taking full advantage of Danny’s ‘fear’.

Danny chuckles and looks around, “yup. Sorry not sorry”. Lancer picks that very moment to stick his head in, looking at the ghost then Danny, “Daniel...”.

Danny sighs and waves him off, “I know, it’s just Poindexter though. He’s here somewhere in the school almost every day and has been for, like, decades. Longer than I’ve been alive at least. He’s just seldom visible. Here’s his haunt”. Lancer sighs, “very well”, and just leaves; clearly not wanting to deal with all of that.

James blinks, “so, uh, is he going to stay or? And how the heck did you, but not the school, know about him?”. Poindexter huffs, crosses his arms, and seemingly vanishes; Danny, however, watches the transparent teen ghost just sort of float to the back of the class while making ‘I’ve got my eyes on you’ finger motions at Danny. Danny rolling his eyes while responding, “maybe, maybe not. And you know that locker that’s rumoured to be haunted that I was randomly assigned to for a while? Yeah that’s totally true. We’ll talk about lair cores later. There was also a mild body-swapping incident”.

“Excuse me?”.

Danny points at James, “I have been through some shit, man. Body swapping with a ghost was less weird and more annoying though”. The entire class just stares at him which he takes as a chance to get back to the lesson plan. “So as I was saying...”.

-

Valerie winds up approaching him after the bell, “you know one of these days I’m going to figure out what the Zone that nickname that ghosts have for you is”. Danny quirks an eyebrow, because of course Poindexter probably nearly called him ‘the halfa’ since that’s what Poindexter literally always called him. Smirking at her, “I don’t doubt that, Val. Just like someday you’ll be fully honest about your, ahem, extracurricular activities”, and chuckles while she rolls her eyes. Her muttering, “oh whatever. Anyway, wanna go to a movie after school or are you too busy with teacher duties”.

Danny huffs, “as if. I only do one class you know, so sure why not”. Lancer picks that moment to stick his head in again, “actually you need to finalise that first assignment, also you do realise that as a teacher you are supposed to watch your language?”.

Danny gives an awkward, “uuuuhhhhh”, before scrunching up his face in a pout, leaning back in his chair dramatically, and whining loudly while Val laughs at him, “do I haaaaavvvvveeee toooooo?”. Lancer’s sigh is a pained one.

(Danny absolutely starts out the next class with, “so one of you s̴͜͝h̴i̶t̡̨͡s snitched on me so prepare for some slight language changes, b͘͘itc͜͝he͢͝ş̛”. Which earned a mixture of confused looks, laughs, and a couple glares at Todd, Dash, and Brittney; who were the most likely suspects. And really no one was actually surprised in the slightest that Danny seemingly knew GhostSpeak, it just tracked honestly).

---

Was Danny looking forward to this first assignment thingy? Haha fuck no. He’s just going to assume marking is Hell but he already established that he wasn’t the kind of sick freak that makes the very first assignment the one required oral presentation or some shitty quiz; and fine he already put down ‘research assignment on an unusual ghost theory you have’ in the syllabus but what the actual crap was he supposed to do for the guild lines of this to avoid getting the kind of ridiculous shit that he himself would write. Because as funny as getting twenty-odd papers about Plasmius’s clear attempts at making up for his fragile masculinity or about Phantom’s fashion choices would be, Danny’d rather not. Well he could just be like: y’all can either do all your papers on Phantom or none, vote now. At least then he would either be prepared to read a bunch of wild shit about himself or go in knowing he won’t have to read any about himself.

Rolling over in bed and sighing, “well I guess I could just limited the second option to known frequently seen ghosts?”, blinking, “oh and none can be on Boxy because I see too much of that problem man as it is”. Speaking of problems, he also has to figure out how he’s going to spend an hour getting stared at by most of his students (fuck that was still super weird) sans an entire hand; because sure the rest of his arm will have reformed by noon, but the hand will still an issue. Too bad he didn’t manage to find the chopped-off limb before it dissipated into free-floating ectoplasm. While he does appreciate that no one’s going to just stumble across his severed limb, getting it back would have been way better. Eh fuck it, super long sleeves day it is, Jazz did attempt at dark humour once and gifted him a straightjacket so what the heck time to look like a crazy person the legit way.

Of course it’s currently three am so he is not getting dressed right now, not a chance.

-

Does he get to fall back asleep and actually stay asleep till eleven or so? No, when does he ever? Fuck ghosts and their lack of caring about his shitty sleep schedule. It’s now five am, his ghost sense has got him mostly shivering awake, and his blankets don’t even qualify as actually still on his bed. Him letting himself slump onto the floor while transforming and starting to float up in the air before only slightly lazily flying out his window. If anyone asks about his eye-bags, he bought them off the black market. Does that make sense? Not really no. Does he care? Also no.

Him floating up on Ember smashing up a street sign with her guitar, pinching his nose while otherwise hanging limply in the air, “Ember, why?”. He’s too tired for this shit, Ancients.

“Anarchy”. She hits the sign again.

Danny sighs, “well could you go be ‘anarchy’ when said anarchy doesn’t result in my sleep becoming anarchy too? I really don’t feel like having the R.E.M. sleep government centres of my brain overthrown today”. That actually gets her to pause and look up at him, smirking and snickering after a bit, “you do look like shit”, then very pointedly looking to his half reformed arm; hey at least he had a proper elbow again! Shove a dick in it, goddamn. He absolutely flips her off before shooting her guitar, “go home, Ember. I have class”.

She gives him a pitying look like an absolute ass, “oh did they not let you graduate from that indoctrinating soul-crushing suffering?”, then grinning almost manically, “let’s burn it down!”.

“Jesus Ancients no, I work there”.

“Oh so you’ve become a cog in the machine for the man”.

Danny sighs very loudly, “okay what capitalist crawled up your ass and died, fuck. And if anything my mere presence is causing chaos”, chuckling hollowly, “one of the other teachers drank my coffee accidentally and was absolutely losing their beans half the day. And only one person’s gotten a mild case of ecto-poisoning”, sighing, “Ancients, Todd’s a dumbass. I mean-”, gesturing vaguely with his intact hand, “-I knew that, but next time he wants to ‘prove he can bend steel’ with a bar of ectoplasm I’m just going to let him break his arm and get full-blown contamination”.

Ember shakes her head, “I say let him. And so you are teaching humans ghost stuff”. Danny just shrugs kinda noncommittally at that. She smirks, “teaching death is more punk rock I guess, babypop”, while attempting to give him a boot kick to the face since she apparently couldn’t leave without causing him some level of bodily harm. He, of course, grabs her ankle and just flips her over him. Hand-to-hand combat was not her strong suit. She does successfully get him one with a laser drumstick though. Which hooray for a burnt hip. Fun. At least he knows she’ll just head back to her lair now, no real need for the capture and release thing; most ghosts pretty firmly decided they’d rather just go home after a Phantom ass beat down than getting sucked into the thermos, so they left immediately. Others were fine to just leave to their business. Some were true bad time problems. And then there was the Box Ghost... fucking moron. Ancients he is going the fuck back to bed.

-

Annnnnndddd now he’s late. Fuck. It’s a little past noon. FUCK. He sighs very loudly while practically scrambling out of bed, getting tangled in the sheets, phasing through the sheets when he remembers he can do shit like that, grabbing random ass shit from his closet and phasing that on. Quick mirror check... and yup, he looks like a dumbass and his sweaters backwards. At least he actually grabbed a sweater, he, however, did not grab pants. But fuck it, shorts it is. Shorts that are shorter on one side than the other because they got burnt and said burn marks are super noticeable on the neon green fabric.

He’s hopping out his window when he tries to grab the frame and just face-plants instead because, fuck, right, no goddamn hand dumbass. Quickly scrambling back and phasing off his sweater while also tripping backwards over the first aid kit he left haphazardly on the floor like a complete lazy idiot. Landing on his floor with an oof and sighing very loudly, just laying there half-naked for a couple of seconds, “why me?”. When he does get up he successfully grabs that straightjacket and makes it out the window, flying off to school while pulling it on.

Danny doesn’t even bother with walking into school, just smacks into the side of the building below the window to his classroom -honestly him having his own classroom still feels slightly surreal but he’s kinda used to it at this point. At least a little anyways- and a quick glance around plus transforming back human and visible and he knows he’s good, his singular hand holding onto the windowsill. Is he cheating by still defying gravity a little? Yes. But one Danny Fenton absolutely does not feel like falling to the ground and making an ass of himself yet again today. Huffing he lifts himself up, head-butts open the window -which can only open both ways because it’s an added safety feature in case a student got phased outside and was trying to get back inside through a closed window. His folks really did think of everything. Well almost everything- and scrambles in while his class freaks out a little. A couple fellow teens even scream/shriek and Ashley -who sits near the windows- actually fell out of her desk. Danny doesn’t even need to look up to hear Val’s extremely audible sigh though.

“What the fuck, Fenton?”.

“Danny!?!”.

“What the Hell?!?”.

“FUCK! Oh Zone thank everything, I thought he was a ghost for a second”.

“You’re late”.

“We’re on the second story, how the Hell did you get up here? And wait, did you head butt a window?? WHY ARE YOU WEARING A STRAIGHTJACKET??

“What????”.

“It’s a look though...”.

“Okay Danny being late isn’t all that weird, but you’d think... Like this is exactly why this class is after noon”.

“Is there a reason your top half and bottom half look like they came from two totally different fashion lines?”.

“Why couldn’t you have been five minutes later? We could have left then”.

“Are you okay?”.

“Danny.... what did you do?”.

“Wait, were you the thump on the wall just now?”.

Danny shuffles to stand up straight and brushes himself off with the long floppy arm-sleeves of the straightjacket, waltzing to the front of the classroom. Fuck he forgot his backpack. Damn. Guess he’ll just have to talk about the assignment instead of handing out the sheet things. Oh well. Turning to the class and gesturing them to shut up by waving his hand around which really just makes the sleeve flap around ridiculously.

Pretty much the entire class bursts out laughing at him after a couple seconds of silence.

Danny sighing, “okay okay, yes I’m late, but class or whatever begins now. Also y’all need to vote on whether your research c̷͝r͟a͘p҉͜ will all be on Phantom or none will be on Phantom. It’s all or nothing, you mǫ͡t̨͘h̴̛e͠r̷͞f̸u̴c̕k̨e͠r͢s̴”. That earns both groans and slight laughs, eh Danny’s cool with that.

Val doesn’t even give him a chance to ask for hand voting when she blinks down at his feet, “Danny... how did you even manage that???”. Danny quirking an eyebrow, “huh?”, then looking down... looking down at his laced-up socks. Fucking damnit. He thought he had phased on shoes, even laced them up; guess he just phased random shoelaces tying around threw his goddamn socks and laced up the socks. Danny sighs and slumps a little, “well okay then, guess today’s a no shoes kinda day”, and sighs again before looking up and shrugging at Val, who huffs disbelievingly at him. Fair.

Todd jerks up his hand, “can we go shoeless too then? Otherwise, unfair”. Danny sighs and waves him off, “go nuts, f̵̧͢uc̴̨ķ̴̕ if I care today”. That earns him a round of blinking and snickering; some people do actually take him up on his apathy and take off their shoes. Dash snapping, “not that I care, but what the Hell happened to you?”. Danny smirks at him, “I decide your grade so you kinda have to care”, and sticks his tongue out him like a petulant brat purely because he can. “I got hit in the head by an ectoplasmicly infused guitar at five am and didn’t regain consciousness till-”, glancing at the clock, “-however many minutes ago”.

Jesse blinks, “I can’t tell if that’s a creative lie... or not”. Danny finger guns before turning to the board and scribbling on it, “alright, voting hand time. Left for no Phantom, right for all Phantom...”.

Annnnnnnd, glancing around at the hands, looks like he’s receiving twenty-odd papers on himself. Wonderful. Whelp hopefully this’ll at least be interesting and mildly creative. Danny nodding with his hand and stump wrist on his hips at the board then turning around to face everyone with a huff, “alright then, now if anyone sends their research to the G.I.W. you automatically fail. I don’t want them getting any more funny ideas and having Phantom around is at least marginally a good thing. Honestly”. Earning him some snickers.

“Just marginally? He’s better than your parents”.

Danny glares at Todd, “hush, y͜ou͟҉ ̵s͞a̸l̴ţ͠y͘̕ ̢w̡͞et̷͡ ̡͠n͟͟ơ̢͝o͏d̡҉le”. Putting his intact hand back on his hips, “my folks aside, assignments. It’s on the syllabus and really you already know what to do so yeah. I’ll give you guys the papers for it tomorrow because, like my shoes apparently, I forgot them”. More than one teen gives him a really weird look and James mutters, “honestly? I think I prefer this, uh, ‘teaching’ style? He’s just so done”.

“More like one of us”.

“He is literally my age, he is one of us”.

“Oh yeah”.

Danny glances up at the ceiling, sighs, and talks slightly louder than necessary, “as for actual lesson plans, more ghost history slash lore, yay-”.

“At least he didn’t forget where he left off”.

Danny points at Todd, because come on man, seriously, “I will steal all your number two pencils, Todd”. James blinking, “why does that work as a legit threat?”. Danny points at him, “because then the scantrons will f̵̨̢u̵c̨͜͡k̶̵ up so he can’t take tests and he’ll have to ask the teacher for one embarrassing himself because no fellow teen would give him theirs because h͘e ̸s̨͢u̸̧̡c̷̡ks̕͠”.

“The fact that that is even slightly thought out and remotely realistic is actually worse”.

Dash actually looks legit slightly concerned and weirded out. Maybe he finally realised Danny’s kinda a whole ass nightmare when he feels like it. That’s without adding in the whole half-ghost clusterfuck he’s got going on.

-

Danny gets about halfway through his class when Charles just straight up opens the door. Danny should booby trap that sometime. “Okay I can’t believe I’m asking you this but tell me you have a spare stapler... what am I looking at here?”.

Danny had been gesturing a bit exaggeratedly at the whiteboard that had a doodle of a couple of Ancients on it, him dropping his arms and turning to the science teacher, “what, in any world, would make you think I have a spare of anything other than coffee, guns, thermoses, and maybe food; though the last one may or may not be inedible. Also, today was a crazy person day so yes this is, in fact, a straightjacket”. The fellow teacher smirks, “get that from the asylum you stayed at?”. Danny rolls his eyes, “oh har har, dickweed”, and chuckles; Charles was one of the teachers he got on better with even if the guy had zero sense of boundaries and sticks his nose in just about anything he found interesting, and Danny was basically a walking ball of interesting. Danny snaps his fingers and turns to the class, “oh I have actually been to an asylum before though”.

Ashley coughs, “Danny, you could make a living off of surprising people with random life bits. Get a tv show”.

Danny’s ghost sense goes off at the exact moment that an echoing voice says, “oh I quite agree”, from the direction of the window.

Charles goes wide-eyed and blurts out, “wellsinceyouclearlydon’thaveastaplerI’mgoingtogofindonebye”, and promptly shuts the door with a slam. Danny, meanwhile, snaps his head to the window and watches the Ghost Writer cross his legs while floating a bit above the windowsill. Danny blinks, “what and why”, and sounding stern enough to make a couple students jump/jerk in their seats. Valerie, Emilie, and a few others have weapons drawn already; expected and good really. The Ghost Writer rolls his eyes faintly and tosses his scarf over one shoulder dramatically while Danny slowly scoots over to his desk, not that the Ghost Writer seems to care, pursing his lips at Danny, “curious. Here I thought you had a hatred for literature and education”.

Danny rolls his eyes harshly, “no. Just Christmas”, pooping open one of the drawers. The class just watching tensely in the background.

“Christmas books”.

Danny rolls his eyes again, “Ancients fuck, man”, smirking a little, “here have some-”, jerking up an orange -that he, yes, had in his desk purely to spite this very specific ghost even though the Ghost Writer basically never came to the Mortal Realm- and stabbing it with his nails to make its juices leak down his hand/arm and makes the room smell noticeably citrusy, “-vitamin C for cannonball so you can shoot on outta here”. Valerie side-eyes Danny with a slightly dumbfounded look before dropping her arms, and her gun, down and turning to him, “seriously?”. Danny just shrugs loosely and bites a chunk out of the orange earning a lot of disgusted looks. Fair, he hadn’t exactly peeled off the skin or anything. But hey, the Ghost Writer looks thoroughly and deeply offended; so that’s a point for Danny.

The Ghost Writer audibly sighs, pushes up his glasses, and closes his eyes for a second before speaking up, “as I’m sure you know, The GhostWriters Manor has a fairly high and active patronage”, glaring a little, “regardless of men of a certain sort being unwelcome“.

Brittney leans over to Ashley, who’s shaking and a little stiff, “oooo I wonder what the heck Danny did. Boy’s banned from a library”. Dash scoffs weakly and a little wide-eyed, “o-oh please, getting banned from a library is, ah, is weak sauce”. Todd smirking at the jock, “smooooth”; and gets flipped off for the comment.

Danny shrugs and bites the orange with emphasis, speaking through a mouthful, “‘ell maye searaint ‘en ould ave ettr tases”, and swallows harshly. The Ghost Writer scowls. Danny quirking an eyebrow after a bit, “soooo?”. Making the ghost shake his head and mutter, “I truly can’t believe this”, then looking to Danny, “as a man of the written word there is a level of... respect, even begrudging respect, for those that teach it”, digging into his satchel and pulling out a card, “you may have a card again”; the Ghost Writer sounds almost physically pained to be saying that. Which of course means Danny absolutely has to bug the guy and the windows being phase-proof gives Danny ample time to do so.

Danny smirks, “and here I thought I was never even granted one in the first place”, and dramatically puts a hand to his chest, sounding overly sarcastic, “iMaGiNe HoW bLeSsEd I mUsT fEeL tO bE rEcEiViNg SuCh A tRuLy SpLeNdId GiFt SuCh As ThIs”, sauntering over in the most fruity and dramatic way he possibly can, popping open the window seductively, and snatching away the card, “ThAnKs BaBe”, and winks like an absolute ass.

Emilie collapses to the floor and starts wheeze laughing.

The Ghost Writer jerks away from him, scowls, and adjusts his glasses while trying to compose himself. Huffing a little, “consider the libraries resources yours, do be at least slightly decent and use them educationally”, the vanishing from sight; Danny following the flying off transparent ghost with his eyes before pulling his front half back into his classroom fully. Huh. Will he actually take up the ghosts offer? Might actually be a good idea also, fuck the gov he now has even more access to information they could only ever salivate over in dreamland.

Turning back to the class, “whelp, that happened”, humming and tilting his head, “too bad I definitely can’t get approval for an impromptu field trip to a ghost library”.

Valerie throws up her hands, slumps back into her desk, shoves her gun back into her bag, and glares at Danny. Todd bursts out laughing while Jesse blinks, “did that just happen?”. Dash screws up his face a little, “the Hell you little wimp?”. Danny’s just going to assume the guy never realised that Danny kinda had a pair of brass balls.

Danny smirks at the class, smacking the whiteboard, “I’m tougher than you, deal with it or eat a pink slip. Now class is basically over so I’m not even going to bother continuing with this, but in case any of y’all are wondering The Ghost Writer gains power from the influence, importance, and popularity of any form of writing that was written by a ghostwriter or anonymously. Totally in charge of basically the biggest library in the Zone, which yes I was banned from apparently due to blowing up a book”. Todd scoffs at that and rolls his eyes, clearly trying to seem unimpressed.

Ashley sticks up a hand and speaks anyway, “did you really not know you were banned?”. Danny waves her off with his handless arm, okay he’s got a palm again but stilll, “do you know just how many places have banned me or my entire family”, tilting his head, “or just my dad at least”, which earns him some chucking before the bell goes off and he starts shooing everyone out loosely. Emilie goes right up to his desk though, grinning almost meanly, “tell me you are going to bring ghost books”. Valerie goes wide-eyed a little and glares at the back of Emilie’s head, then at Danny when he smirks and shrugs, “oh I don’t see why not, heck let’s make that the reading requirement. Read a book written by ghosts”. Val makes a series of faces, likely torn between curiosity and being completely done with his general shit. Emile smirks and fist bumps before leaving.

Danny quirking an eyebrow at Valerie getting her to finally speak up, “you are unbelievable, Danny”, shaking her head and walking closer, “so about this assignment thing-”.

Danny groans dramatically, “oh Ancients, way to make me feel like a teacher”. She smacks him over the head for that, “better?”. Danny just smirks and nods curtly, giving a cheery, “yup”. Valerie rolls her eyes, “anyway, I know it’s been decided everyone’s doing Phantom-”, rolling her eyes a little, “-but could I maybe do mine on the other Phantom”, and stares at him.

Oh she is so totally trying to gauge if he knows shit, not that that was remotely subtle. Eyeing her a little, “if you don’t save that kind of subject to your computer then sure, I guess I didn’t specify Danny with a y Phantom. But-”, squinting just a little, “-if, say, the G.I.W. manage to hack things and find out some things that might be dangerous”. Valerie blinks before shaking her head in disbelief, “how the Zone”, sighing, “I’m pretty good with tech these days, but yeah okay”, and gives him a bit of a weird look before rushing off at the warning bell.

---

Does Danny decide to take up the Ghost Writers offer? Yes, yes he does. Barging in and walking around like he owns the place, the Ghost Writer blatantly massaging his temples while Danny walks up to the guys little counter thingy, “so got any twelve odd copies of the same fiction book? That a bunch of teens who may or may not wreck them can have? Also could totally use some lore and historical books, you know, for reasons”.

The Ghost Writer sighs, pours himself some tea, gets up and nods, “yes, do attempt to see them returned though”.

“I make no promises”.

That gets him another sigh but Danny follows the ghost around anyway. The Ghost Writer winds up getting a bit excited and gives him an honestly excessive amount of books at the end of the day. Danny also learns that apparently it was Ember who was a blabbermouth and told the writing ghost when she was checking out, or something, a musician's after-death memoir. Figures a singer couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

-

The Ghost Writer patting the stack almost affectionately, “a happy book is a read book and I have a lot here, so enjoy”, and gives Danny a ‘come back’ look that’s just slightly threatening which Danny’s just going to assume is because the guy had vaguely forgotten who he’s talking to, that or the Ghost Writer hated him a lot less than he thought. The ghost holding up a finger, “ah yes, since you were proactive and showed at least some genuine care for the craft, here”, and plops a little green writing quill down on the stack. Danny is oddly genuinely touched.

Danny blushing and rubbing his neck a bit, “uh, appreciated?”. This honestly said more than it seemed, sure they clearly were bickering and were not exactly fond of each other but it seemed that the Ghost Writer was yet another once-antagonistic ghost that was now at least somewhat on team Phantom’s side.

“Yes, now if you’re done loitering”, the Ghost Writer makes shooing motions at Danny, “be on your way”. Danny rolls his eyes but does, in fact, leave... with an unnecessary amount of books in tow.  

Chapter 4:  An Education In Fashion

So apparently someone went and threw a little complaint about Danny’s straightjacket stunt, him wearing a near-floor-length parka the next day with shorts probably didn’t help though, and now Danny’s at the mall for reasons other than having fun or fighting some ghost. How does Danny know someone complained? Well a little conversation with Lancer that went a little something like this: “Daniel, I know the school’s a little... lax, but we do actually have a dress code. Which again, you are supposed to actually be marginally following unless it’s for safety reasons”. Which he had of course responded to with, “technically a straightjacket is a restraining device sooooo...”, which got him glared at. In short, Danny now had to buy new clothing. New clothing meant for teaching, which was weird as fuck.

Was he doing this alone? Zone no! He had absolutely recruited Sam and Tuck to wander around with him. Which, speaking of...

“Sup, dude!”.

Danny grins to himself before turning to his friends, “hey, Tuck man”, looking to Sam and nodding, “look at you slumming it like a mall goth”. Sam rolls her eyes at him and flips him off aggressively. Tuck smacks his arm, “more like look at you actually buying clothing new instead of digging through used stores for cheap shit. What? Did Casperhigh finally develop standards?”, and smirks.

Sam scowls at the techno-geek, “it’s better that he doesn’t support corporate-run stores and name brand garbage. What with all the slave labour, animal abuse, and terrible worker treatment”. Danny looks down very pointedly at her plaid T.U.K creepers that are 100% not bought from a used store; Sam shoves him, making him stagger a little with a laugh.

Him looking to Tucker, “Lance asked kinda nice-ishly so I’m being nice to the poor man”, smirking, “and maybe this’ll make up for me sorta kinda being responsible for one of the water fountains spewing out black water for a bit there”. Both of them stare at him for a bit before laughing, Tucker patting his back after a bit with a smile, “they hired you, what did they expect”.

Danny sticks his arms out exaggeratedly while the trio start walking, “I keep telling them that!”. Sam shaking her head with a smile, “well trying to appease the man or not, don’t you dare say we’re suit shopping”. Danny screwing his face up at her before gesturing around, “do you see Vladdie around? Because I fucking guarantee you he’d have some kind of sensor or informant for if I so much as stepped into a suit store or tailor, and he’d immediately show up to at least stare at my choices judgingly or offer to pay by flashing around a fancy credit card”. Tucker snorting, “that shouldn’t feel as accurate as it does”; making everyone laugh as they head into one of the ‘teen’ oriented stores. Danny was buying new passable clothing, not high-class ‘adult’ clothing.

The first thing Danny sees is bandanas, MORE FUCKING BANDANAS! Yes, he’s so here for this. Well not this specifically but you know. He grabs a new alien one, one that looks like a white dragons mouth (Tuck muttered something about seeing one just like that at a furry con which really just encouraged Danny to take it but with a shit-eating grin), two ghost ones because of course and if one of them is pink and glittery and has sequins then that’s his business and no one else’s shut up, another that looks like bloody tie-dye, and one that reads ‘SATAN just do it’ with a Nike checkmark; the last one might just get him in trouble but he’s pretty sure just the existence of his class/him already pisses off Christianity so why not go for a home run.

Sam eyes the SATAN bandana as she walks back over from another store, her smirking, “nice. Anyway, shoes”, and shoves a bag at him. Danny quirking an eyebrow while digging inside and chuckling at the white doc martins, snorting, “I thought I was the only one here supposed to be making jokes about my suit while also blatantly hinting at my shit”.

Sam scowls and crosses her arms, “they’re not sneakers and they’re mildly ‘professional’, deal with it”. Danny just chuckles as he pays for his bandanas and the dress-shirt with frowning depressed bananas all over it that Tuck threw at him.

Walking out and looking around before all three share a Look, breaking out in matching grins and speaking in unison, “HotTopic”, and then march off with determination written across their faces; which yes, gets them actively avoided by everyone who knew who they were, which was basically all of Amity these days.

Danny’s got crushed velvet straight cut pants that marginally resemble dress pants -Lancer will so not let him get away with freezer burnt crust pants or grey sweat pants at an assembly or whatever- folded over an arm while he’s shoving around some of the angsty and anime-themed hoodies when Kitty finally decides to approach him. Did he know she was here? Yes, obviously. Be weird and concerning if he didn’t. But she was generally well behaved so he let her be. The biggest risk her and Johnny usually posed was traffic violations. So not his problem.

Anyway, Kitty pokes the pants, quirks an eyebrow and hums a little, “nice choice there, Danny”, humming a little more before grabbing up a hoodie with a plague doctor on it and the words ‘there is no cure only infection, and I’m patient zero’, and shoving it at him, “that’s more your style”.

Danny blinks, “I see you’re trying to cut me with edge now, geez. But technically-”, holding up a finger from his unoccupied hand, “-anything that sheds ectoplasm is ‘contagious’ sooooooo”, and rolls his wrist. She gives him a pouty look, “I don’t know what I expected”.

Sam walks up, eyes the punk ghost before looking to Danny, “you’re getting a dress tailcoat, it says ‘dead boy’ on it”; making Danny wheeze a little and nod with a stupid grin. Kitty smiles a little bit before waving the goth off and starts walking away, “looks like you’ve already got a lady friend clinging around so I’ll be going”. Sam chucks a necklace at her while Danny coughs.

Regardless he gets the sweater because now he kinda has to. The tailcoat too though, because of course.

-

Sam and Tuck already have their supersized order of fries and respective meat and veggie burgers while Danny’s ordering his go-to coffee from his go-to coffee shop, gotta get in that dose of judgemental and mildly fearful staring. But Charles -yes Charles, not Lancer. Why the fuck?- winds up calling and Danny picks up feeling just mildly confused and curious, “uh, why? Also, how?”.

“So Danny, you’re an adult, a perfectly responsible adult-”. That tone is ominous as fuck, damnit. “-a responsible adult who does absolutely know how to safely handle ectoplasm-”. Oh Ancients.

Danny cuts him off, “what did you do to my classroom?”.

“Wh-what? I- nothing. Better question is what and why did you, honestly really, have a bomb-rigged drawer? Also, how does someone... convince a chunk of ectoplasm to get out of your closet and stop eating your ties? I mean, I think it might have eyes but I might also be wrong and it keeps squirming away from the microscope, which why would it do that?”.

Danny gives a pained smile, looks to the barista who’s now holding his venti cup filled with around thirty espresso shots, Danny sighing, “if I give you a fifty, could I convince you to add five more to that?”.

“What?”. Danny absolutely ignores Charles.

The barista looks down at the cup like she’s debating if potential manslaughter due to willful negligence was worth fifty dollars. Apparently yes, yes it is. She adds five more shots and Danny’s down fifty more bucks.

He absolutely catches her squatting down staring vacantly at the fifty muttering, “but was it worth it”, though. He cringes just a little bit; then he gets back to the phone call. Sighing, “blob ghosts typically have eyes, Charles, and the little guy’s eating your ties because you constantly let the things dangle down into your samples and don’t fucking wash them in an ectophobic solution. Gosh”, and rolls his eyes as he sits back down with his friends; who just quirk their eyebrows at him while he keeps talking away, “and of course my desk is bobby-trapped, man. If the G.I.W. activates that they’d be so bothered by the cleanliness breach that they’d just go home”. Tuck chokes and smacks the table comically a couple of times, making loud thumping noises.

Charles actually laughs, “true! So what can you do about the blob, buddy?”.

Danny screws up his face, pulls the phone away from his ear and stares down at it. Glancing to his friends, “a teacher just called me ‘buddy’???”, Danny’s not quite sure how to react to that, them laughing at him doesn’t help. Shaking his head he returns the phone to his ear and gives a cheery, “nope! Enjoy your new pet!”, and hangs up on the guy.

“Wha-”.

Danny starts eating the fries.

Tucker points his second burger at him, “you know...”. Danny pointing right back at him with a fry, “hush you”. He knows he’s a teacher himself alright, geez.

(Charles seemingly took Danny up on that pet comment and actually called FentonWorks for a containment unit and to ask about ‘ghost pet care’, Danny’s mom gave him the phone with a truly dumbfounded expression).

---

Alright, today’s the day. What day? Why the day to get paper assignments for the first goddamn time ever and try not to lose, destroy, contaminate, or otherwise ruin them. He’s fucked. Solidly fucked. But hey, at least it’s also the day to show off his shit fashion choices as well, little ray of sunshine there. Some light in the darkness.

He should probably attempt to win some points with Lancer and wear the dress shirt, honestly. So that’s what he’s gonna do. Depressed banana dress shirt, sequin alien bandana, crushed velvet pants, and what the heck the ‘dead boy’ tailcoat too why not; this boy is getting DRESSED UP today! And fine, yes he looks good based on his mirror's reflection; but his mirror is definitely ecto-contaminated so it might not be entirely trustworthy.

His dad also whistling at him as he heads downstairs for breakfast isn’t trustworthy either, considering the man’s fashion style was less of a ‘style’ and more of a scientific protective mess of orange and the occasional tie. Danny rolls his eyes and waves his dad off, “oh whatever, needed ‘proper attire’”, shrugging loosly, “whatever that means”. Jack beams, “just wear a jumpsuit! That’s always proper!”. Maddie looks away from the microwave she’s nuking some noodles in to glare at him, “not at a reunion, dear”; making Danny chuckle to himself while Jack rubs his neck. She still waves cheerily at Danny as he leaves though so...

-

This is one of those days he actually leaves early enough for a few quick patrol laps around his town, two ectopusses, the Box Ghost (because of course), all followed by him literally tripping into one of Skulker’s traps; hence why he was now peeling a basic ass bear trap -be more creative, tinman- off his leg. At least he had the sense to wipe off the ectoplasm with one of his random shit handkerchiefs before walking to the classroom and loudly dropping said beartrap on his desk in what was probably a slightly terrifying alpha move.

Is he early now? Haha no. At least three people jumped from the sudden loud noise. But fuck, Danny was NOT waiting around for Skulker to show his ass for longer than three minutes. Danny had shit to do, man. And apparently the local poacher can’t bother to be punctual when his traps go off. Fuck.

James blinks, “what the fuck?”. While Valerie just sighs and rolls her eyes, leaning back against her chair, “you stumbled on one of Skulker’s traps, didn’t you?”. Danny waves a hand around limply, “yeah? Yer point?”; making her roll her eyes at him very hard.

Danny doesn’t even get a chance to pick up the whiteboard marker before he’s pausing as his throat ices up, him holding up a finger, and just turning to walk right back out the classroom door. Fucking Skulker, goddamnit. But hey, his tailcoat whipping/fluttering about in the air in a way that was actually kinda badass was probably cool looking. He doesn’t have attendance points but he does have style points today motherfuckers.

Dale blinking, “did he just walk in only to leave again?”, slapping the desk, “well I guess he did drop off a bear trap from a ghost so... samples count as teaching?”. Todd snorting and rolling his eyes, “that doesn’t count for shit”; Valerie just chucks a pencil at him.

“I’m more interested in his whole get up. Who pairs a fucking tailcoat with sequin anything?”.

“Oh shut it, Amber. At least he didn’t come in wit a tie or a freaking suit”.

Dash snorts and actually laughs a little, “oh imagine that little twink in a suit! Ha!”. Which just makes Valerie smirk and turn to the jock, “he looks better in one than you do, Dash”.

“Oh fuck you, reject”. That comment was the only excuse Valerie felt she needed for proceeding to kick him in the chin, which might have started up a minor brawl by the time Danny got back.

Danny’s mildly attempting to fix his hair when he hip-checks his way back into his classroom, pausing with his hand stuck halfway through his hair at Valerie just having Dash in a headlock on the floor. Danny blinking, “mmmmm’ ‘kay”. Which fine, the class starts laughing at him for. Danny talks right over said chuckling, “so once somebody’s done with their little vice grip, or whatever, on another person everyone can relinquish their vice grip on their assignment shit and gimme gimme”. Val flips him off but hey, at least she lets Dash start breathing again. It’s something. And everyone does, in fact, start getting up to give him their work. Valerie trying to quietly and subtly ask him if ‘he’s okay’ when she hands hers over though. Danny sighing and shrugging limply, “eh I’m good, Skulker’s gonna be hearing from my lawyers though”, and smirks; resulting in Val smacking him over the head with a scowl.

-

Lancer showing up just after the bell, looking Danny up and down, and nodding with a, “good”, is weirdly chastising and awkwardly awkward. Ashley giggling to herself, “oh I get it, boy got in trouble for his clothing ‘choices’”. Danny points at her aggressively, “hush you”. Lancer leaves without choosing to comment on that.

---

Does Danny basically use the next couple of school days to make the school/his class his own personal fashion runway? Yes, yes he does. Did he also decide to melt some glue on the end of his tailcoat and file it to be sharp and blade-like? Yup. Was that very thing why Millie was currently done with his shit and arguing with him? Also yes.

“He cut the case lock for the microscope and ruined an entire three hundred dollar machine! We’re allowed to be armed but not wear literal blades as clothing!”.

Lancer is very clearly restraining a sigh.

Charles shrugs from the couch, “hey buddy, it was my machine and you don’t see me complaining”, looking to Danny, “I’m more curious about the how honestly”. Which fucking tracks for the man. Millie gestures at Charles, garish bangle bracelets clinking around in the process, “it’s the schools”, turning to Lancer, “at least fine the child”.

Danny crosses his arms, “hey, I’m eighteen not a ‘child’”, he was still considered a child ghost but that was besides the point.

Lancer pinches his nose and holds up a hand, which Millie actually listens too thank fuck for that. Danny’s pretty sure Lancer is literally the only person that lady respects even slightly. “While I’m certain it was an accident-”, glancing at Danny which Danny rubs his neck sheepishly over before Lancer continues, “-and the school could certainly just add this onto the Fenton tab, I doubt that would pose much of a solution for the fact that you simply don’t like Daniel very much, Millie”.

Millie huffs and crosses her arms, “he’s a menace-”. Danny can’t even argue against that. “-is barely older than most of the students-”. Also true. “-and couldn’t we have literally anyone else, anyone who’s a competent decent respectable person, teach his elective”. Oh this woman just loved mocking and treating non-core classes as lesser.

Danny smirks, “be careful or Remi’s gonna put paint in your pencil drawer again”. She scowls at him for that, pointing at him aggressively, “I know you helped her with that”. Danny will neither confirm nor deny that, “oh but how could I possibly remember when your nasty yellow fake nails are being way too distracting”.

“Why I never-”.

Lancer interjects at this point, Danny’s surprised the man even let him finish his witty comeback/insult. “That’s enough, you two clearly need some bonding time so-”, looking to the math teacher, “-Millie, you’ll be sitting in on Daniel’s class, I know you don’t have any scheduled class during that time and that you’re all caught up on grading, so don’t give me that excuse”; she scowls at him. Lancer looking to Danny, “and Daniel, you’ll sit in on her second block grade twelves”, glaring, “and no bathroom breaks”. Danny sags and whines very dramatically and very petulantly; Charles just starts snickering while attempting -and failing- to cover up said snickering with his hand.

Danny is so not impressed. Neither is Millie but that’s not Danny’s problem now is it. But now that Danny thinks about it, this is the perfect excuse to talk about ghost hunger and force someone who didn’t sign up for this shit to listen to/deal with his shit. Danny might just give Millie a more than slightly malicious smirk as he shoves Charles out of the way enough to sit on the couch; the man just rolling with it while trying not to laugh at his expense any further.

Danny only came early today for the cookies Remi said she’d drop off in the lounge, look how hard that bit him in the ass. Doesn’t even have time to sit and enjoy more than one cup of coffee now. Fuck. Wearing his SATAN bandana was probably asking for it a bit though. Flipping out his phone while nibbling on a cookie and blatantly ignoring Millie storming out in a huff.

thealiveone: so guess who just jacked up the tab AND pissed off mille

PDAxpda: millies the math teach right?

Nightshade: nice

thealiveone: yup! she like always hates me nothing new there

thealiveone: she no happy about recent bought of destruction of property

PDAXpda: someone needs to chill that’s what you do

thealiveone: ouch but yes and now have excuse to force her to hear out ghost hunger

Nightshade: you cruel cruel man I apporv

Nightshade: that bitch gave me so much shit about my ‘satanic’ fashion

thealiveone: ahhh yes I remever that

thealiveone: from back when we were young

thealiveone: our youthful days

PDAXpda: *pfffft*

thealiveone: anyone any one want cookies?

Nightshade: 😆🙃 sure Danny

-

By the time it’s time for Danny to head to his shit he has consumed three cookies and stuffed around eight intangibly inside his body for safekeeping; not like Sam and Tuck gave a shit about eating/using stuff from inside him.

Is Millie waiting judgementally outside of his classroom? Yes. Does he care? No. The class absolutely eyes him and the math teacher as he waltz’s in though. Todd snickering, “ooooo someone needs a babysitter do they?”.  Danny just smirks, “oh no Lance-y’s just punishing his problem children. Anyway today’s subject will be light cannibalism”, and smirks wickedly.

Millie glares while taking a seat off to the side, “I’m not the child here”.

“I’m not the one being petty”.

“You broke a three hundred dollar machine”.

“And? Your point?”.

At this point most of the class is snickering, Valerie shakes her head, “you never change, Danny”. Danny finger-gunning, “and never plan to”. Millie’s scowl deepens.

Danny rummages through his desk muttering, “where’d I put it, where’d I put it”, all the while. Because fine, maybe he was saving this subject for when he thought it would be the most impactful, so sue him. Grinning when he actually finds and starts digging out the little habitat with around five or six blob ghosts in it. Well technically they were blebs, a subspecies of blobs, but whatever. These would have probably been a lot easier to find if he hadn’t modified the bottom drawer to be connected to a slight pocket dimension… but then they wouldn’t have even fit in the drawer in the first place. You win some you lose some.

James blinking as Danny puts the container on his desk somewhat loudly, “huh, guess it’s ‘live’ specimens again. Neat”. Emilie grins, “awww they’re cute”, then glares/smirks at Valerie daring the girl to argue. Valerie just rolls her eyes. Danny also pulling out a blender makes everyone go awkwardly and cautiously silent though. Danny’s just busy cursing while he tries to plug the stupid thing in, “why the f̴̢uc̸̢k is it all bent up?”. No one elects to point out any obvious answers to that one.

Danny walking back over to his desk and popping open the bleb containment unit, “so anyone wanna taste test some basic b̴̡i҉̧t͟͟ch̕͠ ghost food?”, and proceeds to drop the bleb into the blender while simultaneously turning it on; does he get ecto splattered on his face because he forgot the blender lid? Oh absolutely and he’s cool with that. At least half the class jerks back and/or screws up their faces. Millie looks deeply offended; success! Danny licks a bit off of his cheek while staring at the class just to be extra. Dash and Val are the only ones who look completely unphased -though Todd’s trying to look unphased- seeing as both of them had seen him straight-up eat a ghost before.

Ashley squeaks, “um, no?”. Which Danny busts out laughing over and losses his composure, sitting on the edge of his desk, “I’m not serious, Ashley. And don’t worry about the little guy, as we’ve discussed, non-cored ghosts basically respawn”, holding up a finger, “plus! Bleb’s like being eaten”, at that he takes a swig straight from the blender and winks at Millie.

Jasper mutters, “oh Zone he’s doing this to fuck with Ms. Felmer”.

“Mood”.

“Understandable”.

Dale chuckles, “I knew Danny was a menace but damn”. Dash looks a little freaked out, “did I mess his taste buds up by making him eat my underwear?”. Danny absolutely has to address that, pointing at him with the blender slightly, “you are not nearly that influential on my life, Dash”.

“Whatever, Fentaco”.

Millie actually snaps, “Mr. Baxter”, over that jab; making the jock roll his eyes and huff. Her voice sounding a wee bit strained pleases Danny greatly though. Truly.

Danny taps the containment container, “now remember I have a really bloody weird ecto-contamination so do not try that at home. Anyway, ghost hunger involves the eating of ghosts. Surprise surprise, I know. And if none of you leave this class today without losing your lunch I will feel personally offended…”. Again, why did the principal think putting this class directly after lunch was a good idea? Oh well, the janitor's problem now.

-

Did anyone actually wind up throwing up? Yes actually. Not Millie though, much to Danny’s dismay. She did look close multiple times though. And fine, maybe, maybe, Danny went into far more detail than really necessary. Which absolutely explains Brittney sticking up a hand and asking, “how do you even know this this well”, while looking more than a little sick. A few other teens nodding their agreement and mutual curiosity.

Danny snickers, “I have walked in on Technus showering and brushing his teeth, do you really think I haven’t walked in repeatedly on a ghost eating another ghost. Especially when all our local blobs and whisps are totally smitten with Phantom’s stomach?”. That earns him a very loud round of gagging, and Val’s staring at her desk like she’s having a mild crisis. Ah today’s been a good day.

“Forget I asked. What the Hell”.

That just makes Danny smirk as the bell goes off. That makes Danny jolt out of his seat, summon his green quill out of his hair, and start wildly scribbling on the board, “oh! Oh! Before you go, grab your assignment şh͘͜i҉͞t̶͝ and to the person who wrote about the theory that Phantom’s a parasitic species and that’s why he can stay here so long -you know who you are- I hate you. Your little quizzes are in there too, I realise I was lazy about marking şh͘͜i҉͞t̶͝ don’t at me. Also also, this-”, tapping the board, “-is the room I’ll be in for the parent-teacher thingy ma jiggy not this room, for reasons”. Which gets him more than a little snickering and some pointed glances at the -now empty- blender, while everyone takes their graded shit. Danny’s just glad he managed to not lose or destroy anyone’s shit. Though Emilie’s quiz did have a mysterious new ectoplasm stain that he… attempted… to get out. He tried okay?

Millie glares at him as she gets up last to leave, “you, boy, are an affront to humanity”, then promptly leaves. Danny puts a hand to his chest and very loudly says, “why thank you”.

Unfortunately, he is now stuck staying here ‘till her shitty math class. Fuck. Sighing loudly at his ceiling before smirking and chuckling a little, “time to do some sketchy shit, do da, do da”.  He could use some ghost summoning practice.

-

Needless to say half an hour later the schools been evacuated and there’s a pissed off dragon ghost -not from Dora’s kingdom which kinda shocked Danny- flying around. Most of the teachers are glaring at him, Lancer included. At least he’s got a duplicate of himself in Phantom form off throwing fist-a-cuffs; well… more like arguing aggressively about not meaning to summon the one goddamn dragon that wasn’t from the Draconic's kingdom.

Lancer sighs at grounded human form him, “you’re still sitting in on Millie’s math class”.

“Awwwww”. Danny smirks a little, “also, I need a new desk chair”. Lancer puts his head in his hands and shakes his head faintly.

Danny (as Phantom) and the goddamn dragon pause as Red flys up on her hoverboard. Danny waving goofily, “sup Red”, pointing at the dragon, “he’s just upsetti spaghetti, not a real problemo”. He can feel Red’s annoyance and disapproval. The dragon just growls and attempts to breathe fire at her; which she obviously dodges.

Danny gestures at the dragon while she basically unloads on them, “blame your teacher of ghost things!”, and then resumes attempting to capture the dragon. He can easily hear Red mutter, “Zone damn it, Danny”; which fine, he chuckles at.

Eventually, Danny does manage to get the dragon into his thermos. There’s probably one more ghost out there with a bone to pick with him though. Oops. He’s not even slightly surprised to get a chat message from Val a little later.

Robin: whhhhhhhyyyyyyyyy

thealiveone: 😏

thealiveone: are you not entertained

Robin: 😑🖕🏻

thealiveone: *snicker*

(Danny still does, in fact, have to sit through math, which was just as torturous as he remembers. Millie made it even more awful of course. Though unlike him she didn’t change her class plan just to fuck with his day, she did treat him like a student and called on him to answer questions constantly though… that got him so much subtle mocking).

---

The parent-teacher thing comes up way quicker than he would have liked. Lancer giving him a shoulder pat as Danny slumps down into this room's chair, “I’m sure this will go just fine”. Danny rolls his eyes, “I’m a literal teen, Lance. Adult-y folks aren’t known for respecting teens or whatever”.

Lancer deadpans, “somehow, Daniel, I doubt you actually care”. Making Danny snort, “true true. I do still have a point though”.

“Which is exactly why I’ll be staying here and supervising”.

Danny actively groans at that. But fine, understandable.

Of course the first parents, fuck this is weird Ancients, show up while Danny’s partway through spinning around in his chair. It’s Emilie and she is smirking, telling Danny that they absolutely don’t know this random teen is the teacher. Hell yeah time to fuck with them.

Emilie’s mom looks around, “oh is the teacher not here yet?”, looking to Lancer, “I doubt you’re also the ecto-ology teacher”. Lancer actually chuckles a little at that before shaking his head.

Danny snorts and stands up a bit dramatically, “sorry to say but… he died. Totally dead”. Emilie snickers into her hand. Val picks that exact moment to barge in herself with her dad, “Danny, stop telling people you’re dead. You walking problem”.

Mr. Gray quirks an eyebrow at Danny, “ah so my Valerie was telling the truth, somehow I’m both surprised and not”, then walks right up to Danny, claps him on the shoulder, and says, “good for you, lad”. Which Danny rubs his neck a bit sheepishly over. Both Val’s dad and Tuck’s folks worried about his ass, usually more than his own folks did; which, yes, was kinda a bit fucking wild.

Emilie’s mom blinks and looks to her husband then back to Danny, “you’re? the teacher?”. Lancer takes that moment to actually speak up, “indeed Daniel is. Arguably he’s the most qualified for the position, and excluding some… incidences… his performance is more than acceptable”.

Danny snorts, “complimenting and insulting me all in one go, nice”, and finger-guns at the man. Lancer just gives him a fond but exasperated look.

Emilie’s mom purses her lips before shrugging after a bit. Her and her husband both walking over and sitting down, Emilie lounging behind. “Well alright then, though you are certainly a little young to be in such a position of power-”. Danny has to seriously resist throwing his head back, cackling, and saying ‘you have no idea’ at that because fuck saying he had too much power was a goddamn fucking understatement. “-but how is she doing?”, looking over her shoulder to eyeball Emilie slightly, “not being too much of a distraction”.

Danny snorts, “ma’am, being a distraction is basically my job in class. I guess you could say I encourage active discussion and pretty much ignore the ‘put up your hand before speaking’ rule altogether”. Emilie snorts, “considering you blew up the classroom a few days ago…”.

Her dad sighs, “well I guess that’s still better than Jack”. Which fine, Danny snorts at.

Danny pointing at the man, “to be fair, I’ve taken plenty protective measures and do, in fact, know what I’m doing. The accidental wrong dragon summoning was just a miscalculation and wasn’t even during class time”.

Lancer glares at him a little, “yes, and now you’re banned from unapproved experimentation”. Danny just pouts at him before actually doing the class talking stuff he’s supposed to be doing. Val and her dad are just ‘waiting’ off to the side and chuckling at him faintly.

When it is Mr. Gray’s turn the man immediately asks, “she’s not letting outside interests interfere with your class, is she?”. Danny can practically feel the threat of grounding coming off of that question, holy shit. Lancer dutifully pretends to not be listening, Danny is goddamn postivite Lancer knows about Val since she’s way easier to figure out than him.

Danny chuckles, “naw, in fact I can say that my class is the only one she doesn’t ditch”, and gives a very cocky proud grin. Like a preening peacock. Val glares at him a little, “that’s because you boobytrapped the door. No one can leave unless you let them”. Danny just smirks more, “what can I say? I know how to hold a hostage or two”. Val clearly can’t help snorting/laughing at that. Mr. Gray actually looks a little pleased and impressed.

From there pretty much all the meetings are boring and pretty typical. Granted he did tell Todd’s folks that ‘Todd’s a real dick’, which Lancer apologised for on Danny’s behalf. Todd’s dad saying ‘oh we know’ threw Lancer through a bit of a loop though. And apparently Danny calling their son a dick made him more trustable in their eyes, who knew? Dash’s dad made a joke about how ‘hey aren't you that boy my son whipped into shape?!?’ and laughed heartily. Which lead to Lancer going off on a tangent about Mrs. Testlauf’s unhealthy teaching methods, which is how Danny learned that there is a serious beef between the two.

But then came Sophia with her parents, Sophia was one of the freshmen whose family moved here somewhat recently. Girl basically never talked and always seemed cautious. She did perk up a little whenever anything really dark or gory came up -can’t exactly talk about dead people without speaking of brutal horrid violent death- so Danny thinks she’s, like, a closet Goth or Emo or something. Sam would love to introduce her to the ookie spookie side.

Mrs. Holly comes in walking like she’s a judgmental holier-than-thou know it all with some serious entitlement issues, so Danny’s pretty sure this is just going to be so fun. Sophia looks a little more meek and sheepish than usual too. Mrs. Holly huffs, “I truly can’t believe they’d have such a garish class nonetheless let a child from such a proper family take it”, and huffs for a second time. Mr. Holly shaking his head, “truly unbelievable”. Ahhh Danny can see where this is going, even Lancer's frowning a little. Now Danny could either be ‘responsible’ and handle this ‘like an adult’ or he could just choose violence. He’s a combative motherfucker so one option is much more appetising.

Lancer speaks up first, “if you ask me, this class should be, and in the future will be, mandatory. A core subject. It’s a matter of safety after all”. Danny points at him, “and the general knowledge is way more useful than social or math”. Lancer gives him one unimpressed look at that. Danny shrugs and waves him off, “what? Everyone has calculators in their pockets, there isn’t an app for ghosts”.

The parents decide to speak up at that. Mr. Holly scoffing sarcastically, “ah yes, this ‘ghosts’ thing”. Which tells Danny exactly what kind of head-stuck-in-the-sand motherfuckers these guys are. Mrs. Holly nods and scowls at Danny, “yes, we didn’t expect this town to be a satanic cult stronghold”. Which makes Danny cough because that was not quite what he was expecting. Even Lancer coughs and goes a little bug-eyed.

Danny blinks, “excuse me? Do you not believe in ghosts and just think this town is under the delusions of a cult?”. This was actually a new one for Danny. What the fuck.

“We believe in Jesus. Sad to say you clearly don’t, doing the devil's work. ‘Ghosts’ ‘from the afterlife’. As if those are not other words for ‘demon’ and ‘Hell’. And I am not impressed that my little girl is being allowed to be indoctrinated like this. This is why we need more support for proper Christian homeschooling”, she nods to herself with a huff. Mr. Holly nodding readily as well.

This is actually the first time Danny’s ever been called a literal demon actually. He’s been called a demon child or little devil but not literally a demon. Like, a ‘from Hell’ type demon. Should he be flattered? Maybe? Oh whatever. But choosing violence would be the ‘demonic’ thing to do right? So Danny snorts, “I mean if you wanna raise your kid badly and mess them up for adult life, go right ahead. But when your kid doesn’t know what to do during a ghost attack when we get randomly assaulted by a sentient tornado or invaded by another dragon, don’t come complaining to me. Also don’t come complaining to me when your kid moves out at seventeen and refuses to talk to you for twenty-three years”. Lancer looks like he wants to stop him and make him shut up but also really doesn’t want to. Danny’s probably a bad influence on the man. “If you don’t want to believe in ghosts, something very explicitly real unlike your unproven book god, that’s your dealio. But come on and have some decency and let your kid make up their own mind, yeah?”.

Mr. Holly blinks at him, “how old are you?”. Making Danny laugh, “physically? eighteen. Mentally? A lot older than you, clearly”. Both adults look suitably offended by that and Sophia has a tiny smile though also seems more than a little nervous. Her folks are probably the ‘my house, my rules’ and ‘I brought you into this world I can bring you out’ and ‘this is the way this family does things, so you have to as well’ types.

Mrs. Holly scoffs, “this is unbelievable”, turning around to Sophia -who has a good Poker face, which is actually kind of concerning/depressing- and snapping, “to think you’d even select such a class”. Sophia muttering, “I find it interesting”, chewing her lip a little, “and he did bring proof of them day one”. Mrs. Holly rolls her eyes, “oh yeah? What proof?”, and actively looks like she just won this conversation; which Danny is so not having.

So Danny, being Danny and the undead gremlin child that he is, shouts, “this proof!”, and proceeds to grab an ecto-apple from inside his tailcoat, smashing it down on the desk hard enough to make it explode, and grins slightly manically while the green ectoplasm juice and chunks bubble, start moving, develop eyes and mouths, start sticking up like deadman’s finger fungus, and then start shrieking.

Lancer chokes. The parents jerk and jump back, having gotten splattered slightly. Sophia just blinks wide-eyed, taking a slight step back; she was, after all, slightly more used to Danny and his general wackiness.

Danny sticks his finger in the coagulated mass of screaming green horror and starts swirling it/his finger around, grinning manically still, “proof enough fer ya?”. He does pull out a thermos and suck the stuff up when the desk starts steaming though.

The parents say nothing for a bit before Mr. Holly stammers, “we-we will n-not be deceive-deceived by a w-witch”. Which Danny snorts at, “I’ve got a friend who’s a witch, but naw, not really my thing. I prefer to chill it with the dead rather than pagan gods”, tilting his head, “though I guess some pagan gods are also ghosts so eh”, and shrugs.

Mrs. Holly scowls, turns on her heels, and leaves. Snapping, “come on Sophia”. Her husband scampering after her. Danny waves in the most fruity way he can, speaking singsong,“🎵bbbyyyyeeeeee🎵“, looking to Sophia, ���see you on Monday, yeah?”. She just nods at him with a slight smile.

Mr. Lancer blinks after a bit, “Daniel… I almost feel like I need to write you up for that entire stunt”, holding up a finger while pinching his nose and leaning back in his chair, “but. You probably did the right thing”. Danny can’t help chuckling at that, “I mean, I would say I did the right thing but my opinion on my own behaviour is absolutely super-duper biased”. Lancer glares at him while he continues, “and really? not believing in ghosts is a good way to wind up dead. Better to bite that bullshit in the ass than let them think throwing holy water at Johnny would be a good idea”.

Lancer blinks, “they would likely have bad luck for the rest of their lives”. Danny nods immediately, “understatement. Kitty would send that man to her alternate kiss dimension in a heartbeat”. Lancer just stares at him a little bit, “has… has that happened to you?”.

“Happened to all of Amity’s men slash boys once”.

Lancer chooses to not respond to that.

---

“Hmmmm. I see. He is rather handling it well. Fulfilling the proper and respective duties”.

“Ah yes indeed. As… begrudging as that is to admit”.

“We’ll have to have a… conversation”.

“But of course”.

“Most unfortunate”.

“Indeed”.

“But he will accept what he’s due”.

“As he should”.

“However, we can never be sure with… that one”.

“Truly unfortunate”.

“Time and her overseer favour that one far too much”.

“And yet they are right, which is also quite unfortunate”.

“Yes. Quite”.

“Well shall we get to it?”.

“Hmmmm no. Let four nine eight and four nine one deal with that one, they are unwise yet”.

“Very well. Watcher”.

Chapter 5: I Am The Guardian Of The Knowledge! The Knowledge Guardian!

Danny is having a morning alright? Sure he had a good-ish sleep, seeing as he apparently did decently well with the parent/teacher thingy excluding the fact that the school had now acquired a religious discrimination complaint (not that the school cared). And also sure, maybe he got out of genuinely fighting Technus by humble bragging since that ghost was ‘a man of science’ and thus was a sucker for any gossip involving someone taking the piss out of religious folks. Also also, he got waffles this morning. Big plus there.

So you’d think with all that he’d be about to have an awesome morning but nope. Instead, he is currently actively running away from his consequences. Well okay, mostly flying but he can’t exactly do that once he got to school.

Danny walks briskly into the classroom and shuts the door very firmly, even going so far as to lock it a bit dramatically before turning around and giving the class an awkward smile. Heading up to the board, “alright f͜ư͘ck҉͘ę͏r͡s̛-”.

He absolutely ignores the, “Open up”, from outside the door. Chuckling very awkwardly while the class glances at the door then back to him. Danny clearing his throat, “so now that the parent-teacher stuff is outta the way and y’all proved you’re not totally stupid with the quiz and mini lab thing. Why don’t we move on to lairs and contamination-”.

“Daniel James Janus Fenton”.

Danny sighs very audibly and stares up at the ceiling for a second, everyone else quirking eyebrows, snickering, or talking at each other.

“Uhhhh, I feel like he’s using us somehow”.

“Does he seriously have two middle names?”.

Valerie grumbles to herself a bit about how she didn’t even know Danny had a second middle name.

“Better yet one of them is ‘Janus’? The Hell?”.

“Ha, serves the freak right”.

Danny clears his throat a little, “anyway, the Eyes Of Ovi Colosseum is a perfect example of a really stupid specified lair for some mouthless d͏͜į͡ck҉̸͞s҉ nitpicking over laws who think they somehow have the right to control other peoples existences”, and throws a mild glare at the door. Bunch of floating cloaked dicks.

Emilie snorts and laughs into her hand, “oooh someone’s trying to throw a little shade”.

A couple of people chuckle at the, “we have responsibilities, Daniel. Now will you allow us an attendance with you”, that speaks up from the other side of the door.

James quirks an eyebrow, “that sounded more like a threat than a ‘please let me in, dickhead’”. Earning some nods and more chuckles.

“I’m more curious who Danny pissed off enough to stand angrily outside of the ghost-proofed door”.

Danny holds up a finger, “technically, they’re cops”. Earning him a round of shocked gasps and scandalised looks of horror. Rolling his wrist, “anyway, their lair is, like, the biggest standing prison. Vortex’s in it”, shrugging, “they might have tried assassinating me once…”, Danny continues without acknowledging or explaining on that one. And yes, he mentioned it purely to piss off the Observants and rub it in just a little bit more that they failed at ending his ass.

Once the class over bell rings though… he looks around awkwardly and with a level of fake pleading, “anyone suddenly feel like staying after class?”.

Val actually humours him (which he one hundred percent expected), ditto with Emilie actually. Todd just wants any excuse to skip class that doesn’t require him doing anything legitimately bad like leaving school property. Everyone else opting to get up and head to the door, though flashing him apologetic shrugs… or smirking meanly. You’d think they’d be nicer to a guy that can affect their grades. Fucking jerks. However it is Danny who gets to smirk meanly when there is -surprise surprise- two Observants floating outside his door that all of them have to skirt around very cautiously. The Observants, for their part, completely ignore all of his fellow teens/students; instead they just stare -if eyelidless giant eyes even can stare- at him intensely. Danny waves cheekily; they feel like they’re glaring. And pretty much all the other teens that see the Observants just kind of hide around corners and observe instead of heading to their next class. Nosy shits, Danny would do the exact same. He probably shouldn’t feel proud over their want for gossip outweighing the requirement to go to class or to practice self-preservation, but he totally does.

One of the Observants lifts up a boney green hand and points at him, “we need to speak with you”. Making Danny snort, cross his arms, and lean against his desk, “yeah I think I got that one after the multi-hour stalking session”. Valerie snorts at that though she is eyeballing the Hell out of the fucking ghosts.

“Alone”.

Danny puts a hand to his chest, “aawwwww, confessing your love for me in private? How scandalous”.

The Observant on the left looks to the one on the right, “I now understand why the elders didn’t want to deal with him”. Which fine, makes Danny feel exceptionally proud of himself. Emilie laughs, “oooo, I so want to know what Danny did to hurt these poor elders' feelings or whatever”. Danny side-eyes and smirks at her, “oh only colluded with a god to break the laws of temporal displacement”.

“I can’t even tell if you’re serious”.

Danny’s smirk grows malicious, “good”, then sighing and sagging, looking back to the two Observants, “fiiiiiiine. But no, I don’t know who jailbroke whatever prisoner out. Or where Plasmius has hidden whatever artifact of rare and overwhelming power. Or-”

The Observant on the right actually has the gall to interrupt him, “you are not to blame for anything”. The left one adding on, “currently”; making Danny snort. Him then gesturing at his three ‘students’, “but can’t you see that I am busy? I mean really. Some of us actually have work to do these days”; all three teens chuckling to themselves over that while also mildly pretending to be taking notes or some shit. But with another heftily sigh Danny moves to pack his shit… very slowly. Because technically legitimately snuffing the Observants was a recipe for disaster and Lancer probably wouldn’t appreciate the school getting beset by an army of eyeball assholes purely because Danny felt like being a bastard. That… and it might actually be something mildly important; which, arguably, he shouldn’t just ignore.

Today’s turned into real shit.

Valerie quirks an eyebrow at him when he throws his backpack over his shoulder, making the tailcoat flare out a little, “are you seriously going along with a pair of ghosts”, then glaring at Danny when he rolls his eyes at her.

“Val, it’s perfectly fine. Annoying, but arguably fine”, him shrugging, “it’s not like they can harm me”, looking to the Observants and smirking meanly, “seeing as they are incapable of doing harm”, snorting, “pfffft, fucking pacifists, am I right?”. A couple of people in the hallway are noticeably stifling snickers. The Observants, for their part, just ‘stare’ silently.

Joshep shouts from the hallway, “what are all you kids doing out here?!? Get to class!”. Danny’s pretty sure that he -and the Observants- is the only one who can hear Joshep muttering, “what the Hell did that Fenton kid do now? Why does my classes have to be so close to his? Just why?”.

Danny picks that moment to walk out of his classroom, look at Joshep, and laugh very loudly and sarcastically. Joshep grimaces deeply at him, eyes the two FUCKING GHOSTS, and grimaces deeper but also with slight fear. Val, Todd, and Emilie all slip out behind Danny; Val whispering at him, “I hope you know what you’re doing, Danny”. Making him smirk, “when do I ever”; earning him some major glaring. He’d bet money on her not actually going to class and instead trying to secretively follow him ‘for his safety’.

The hallway gets real empty real fast as soon as Danny walks off with the Observants following him a bit unnecessarily close; that really only encourages him to walk slower though so HA!

Just before exiting the building Danny quickly throws Lancer a text, you know, in case the man tries to go looking for him or some shit. Joshep will probably tattle on him for ‘having pet eyeball ghosts’. Though making a pet of an Observant would be one Hell of a power move, goddamn.

Danny : 🚓🚔🚓

Let his sorta boss think of that what he will, for now, Danny’s gotta go and deal with his problems. Apparently anyways. Kinda hard to skirt ‘the law’ when said ‘law’ were ‘all-seeing’. Fuck him.

-

By the time Danny and his two personal shadows get to the Colosseum he thinks the two Observants might just be starting to get close to overdosing on puns. Probably helps that Danny’s using the shittiest, corniest, dumbest ones he can possibly think of. And to think he only got halfway through his stockpiled eyeball-themed ones!

Him glancing around the Colosseum full of Observants, and apparently ClockWork? off to the side cleaning their staff lazily. Stupid Clocky, Danny so could have used a heads up; throwing them a quick pout -which they smirk slightly over- before looking up at Watcher, the head Observant. Putting his hands in his pockets, “soooooo? The fucks up, extra-large eyeball”.

Watcher leaves him hanging for a little bit before speaking up and Danny can practically hear the reluctance and regret in their voice, “Daniel James Janus Fenton Phantom, I’m certain it should come as no surprise to you that we are well aware of your recently acquired… position, as well as how your performance has tracked”.

Danny snorts, “so what? You fucks care about mortal realm teaching now? Isn’t that shit, you know, beneath you or whatever? Not that I actually care. Go ahead and get your knickers in knots about whatever the fuck you wanna. But this?-”, gesturing around lazily, “-seems a little excessive as retaliation for educating mortals. Dramatic as fuck, which mild props there I guess, but still-”.

Watcher cutting him off, “this is not a punishment, as you’ve already been made aware-”. Danny flips him off for that jab. “-rather your… position makes you qualified and befitted of another”.

What.

No seriously, what the fuck?

Danny blinks and tilts his head, “are you trying to also give me a job offer?”; the fuck is wrong with people and springing sudden surprise job offers for shit he is almost definitely largely not qualified for. Though fine, Danny as Phantom had a fuck tone of qualifications here in the Zone. Fuck, he even technically had right to claim the High Throne!

Watcher almost sighs and glances up for a split second, “the answer to your question is neither affirmative nor contradicting. You have taken actions no other has and doing so with more than just marginal success. As such you are the only being fulfilling the role of educating mortals and working through those means to ease the strained and threatening relationship between our realms-”.

Danny jumps in at that, throwing his hands out to the side, “you’re only now just noticing that?!? I’ve been pretty well doing that since the beginning!”. ClockWork holds up a finger, “but was that out of choice or necessity? And were any instances of you actually being educational simply accidents while you were doing what you do best?”, nodding to themselves almost smugly, “I think we both know the answer there, Daniel”; Danny rolls his eyes though blushes a little. Damn it, Clocky.

Watcher doesn’t actively acknowledge ClockWork -which he’s sure ClockWork’s gonna use as an excuse to fuck with them later. Fuck, they might be fucking with them right now- instead continuing to speak at Danny, “you are being granted a position of Ambassador and Sovereign Wisdom, Guardian of the passing of wisdom between the two realms”.

Danny blinks, oh my Ancients. Okay yes ClockWork was absolutely involved in this and the Observants are absolutely not happy about this. Guardians were BIG FUCKING DEALS. The High Sovereign was basically the only one above Guardians. Well and technically the Observants, but that was debatable. Danny snorts, “wow you guys must really hate yourselves. Here I thought you didn’t want me having more power?”. He can feel multiple glares.

Watcher themselves seemingly glares, “while that still stands, what is earned is earned and what is due is due. And while a Guardian of this variety is not necessary, it is beneficial to the realm and future. And, begrudgingly, you do it well”. Danny has to roll his eyes at that, the Observants and their ‘for the betterment of the future’, that got old before he even met them. He does actually put on his more serious face/posture when Watcher floats down to be more on level with him. “so will you accept?”.

“What, in any world, would make you think I’d say no? You don’t have to beg me, you bunch of eyeball crybabies?”. Like really? HE WAS ALREADY DOING THE ‘JOB’. The only reason he didn’t take the High Throne was the added boatloads of responsibilities; that, and he’d have to spend so much time here that he might as well just live in the Zone… not happening anytime soon.

“Very well”. Watcher raises a hand and waves it, a sceptre forming next to their hand floating in the air before it starts moving towards him slowly. Danny decides to leave Watcher hanging and mildly admire the black Arbutus wood with glowing blue carvings across it, legit looked pretty hecking cool. Clocky’s stiff pinstriped staff design wouldn’t exactly suit Danny’s quirkiness. The prehnite crystal on top was a definitively spooky pale opac green with green glowing falling feathers inside; at least the green in green didn’t look weird.

Danny shrugging after a bit and reach out to grab it, the three little silver bells secured by blue leather rope surrounding the crystal chiming slightly from the jostling. Danny furrowing his brows a little and sniffing at said bells; ignoring the twitching in his limbs from connecting to the artifact. Huh, well that smells a heck of a lot like sandalwood and frankincense; eh there was probably some inside. Danny is absolutely blaming the dangling red and green feathers on Ghost Writer giving him a fucking quill though.

Shrugging Danny leans the thing lazily on his shoulder and pointedly makes a point to not react even slightly to the weird pulsing come from in towards his core. Little uncomfortable but not nearly as uncomfortable as being impaled by a giant fishhook. Or mauled by a tiger. Or watching his dad disco dance in public. Little more uncomfortable than Lancer’s attempts to be ‘hip’ and ‘cool’ and ‘relatable’.

Danny thinks he’s being glared at again. ClockWork is absolutely smirking in the stands. Danny also not reacting to a cloak magically poofing into existence attached to his neck is probably annoying the Observants even more. Ha, suck on that. He is the unphaseable one! Phased by nothing! Who is also apparently king of knowledge! Lord of knowing! Yet stupid enough to show up with his clothes backwards more than once (how the fuck did he accidentally wear a jacket backwards and not notice it? Seriously self. Gosh). He does glance at the cloak though, lifting up one side judgingly. Chuckling, “black with blue stitching? What? No green to accent my eyes?”.

“We do not choose the appearance”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “yeah no fucking shit. Blue’s an educational, or whatever the fuck, colour”, tilting his head, “and Lancer’s why I even know that. Huh”. Poetry symbolism was useful for something he guesses. Oh and the clasp is a quill, goddamn that Ghost Writer. Fuck. He’s definitely ignoring whatever symbolism might be behind the slightly bondage harness-looking triple straps going across his chest, he doesn’t want to know honestly. The hood tip zig-zagging like a lightning bolt is supremely obvious though. Like, painfully obvious. patting it a little and looking back to the Observant, “so this all the shit? Don’t feel like fucking with my half-life any further?”.

Watcher almost audibly sighs, turns to borderline glare at ClockWork, “dress your child, ClockWork”. ClockWork grins and pretends not to hear them for a second before floating down.

Danny is perfectly content to let his ClockPops ruffle up his hair, both of them side-eyeing Watcher with mean smirks while ClockWork boops Danny on the cheek with their staff; Danny letting their energy mess with his appearance more than willingly. Suddenly his tailcoat is on him in ghost form, which yeah feels a little weird. An (ecto-ha) green frilled poet blouse underneath with little cufflinks that have ghost pipes (ha!) on them. Crushed black velvet trousers, straight cut and wide/baggy. Silver armoured boots and gloves, which fine, he’s a combative motherfucker. He can also feel some shit going on with his hair, a quick pat-down proving that apparently ClockWork decided he needed some flowers in his hair. Goddamn better be ghost pipes. Danny chuckling, “nice, Clocky”; they smirk lightly and fondly at him.

“But of course, Daniel”.

Watcher does their little hand-wavey glittery thingy taking an in-time ‘photo’ of him to send out through the realm, because bitch there be a new Guardian. Danny just chuckles, “can I go now?”.

“We’d prefer you did”.

Danny snorts, throws a peace sign and finger guns before just fucking off entirely. Him turning away to stalk off making the cloak swish in the air which reveals that the end is, like, curled up into something resembling a scroll. Fucking symbolism, Ancients.

-

Turning human when he gets back reveals the cloak changes to light blue with black stitching, well that’s convenient. Seeing as technically he’s supposed to wear the thing whenever he’s doing his ‘job’ so it changing with his forms is probably for the best. Phantom’s the Ambassador, Fenton’s the Sovereign Wisdom. Plus wearing a cloak to school is totally a weird quirky thing to do, which is perfectly up his alley. Sick as shit too. He’s gonna wear the hood down while human, up and tucked right behind his ears while Phantom; just for that little added difference. Danny had some sense of self-preservation. His clothing is still exactly what his ClockPops gave him… well okay the shoes look slightly more dress shoey than like straight-up knight's boots; eh that’s probably for the best too. Less noisy. And a head pat-down shows that the flowers have gone, good seeing as Sam would mock him relentlessly otherwise.

Whelp, he’s going home now. Because fuck doing anything else. Seriously. A quick check of his phone, however, reveals that Lancer actually got back to him.

Lance: for future reference, Daniel, please reframe from ‘getting ghost arrested’ during school hours.

Lance: I would appreciate a call, after hours of course.

Danny chuckles and shakes his head a little, eh might as well do that on his walk home. “Sup, Lance. I do not have another arrest on my record and I also did not destroy another jail”.

“I do hope that is not sarcastic, but I’m glad you’re alright from the sounds of it”.

Danny snorts, kicking a rock down the road, “nope. No sarcasm here. Perfectly fine. Just had to stand and talk in front of an entire colosseum of ghost cops slash judges and get my sentence”, snickering to himself, “now see that was sarcastic. Well, mostly. Really it was just me getting acknowledgement, or whatever, for basically teaching ‘the mortals’”.

That actually gets Lancer laughing a little, “well my job offer was never meant to get you in trouble or cause you hassle, though I doubt you mind much”.

Danny huffs and rolls his eyes, glaring at the stoplight to hurry the fuck up, “considering this let me annoy the absolute fuck out of the Observants? Zone no I don’t mind. Also I have a cloak now, that I am required to wear. So have fun with that school uniform upgrade”.

“Oh? I can’t wait to see, Daniel. I’m sure you’ll make the appearance work, so long as you don’t show up in a hazmat jumpsuit”.

Okay that one Danny has to laugh at, loudly, “yeah, no, that’ll never happen!”. He might love his suit but wearing anything remotely similar while human was just begging for trouble. Actively and explicitly.

“Good, good. Now I’m sure after all that excitement you’ve got work to do, so since I know you’re fine I’ll let you go”.

Danny smirks, “oh Ancients no, I’m going to bed and napping like the dead”.

“Bye, Daniel”.

Danny chuckles as the man hangs up, got ‘em with the death jokes.

---

Sam snickers and pokes Danny on the cheek, him flipping around in the air to avoid her prodding fingers, pouting at her, “meanie”. Now some may wonder why is she pestering him? well because an early morning flight revealed that the flower hair was still a thing and was likely to be a permanent thing at that. Fun. And he can’t even really be mad, because it’s basically a gift from Clocky. Ever rare and always cherished… by him at least.

Tucker goes and flicks one, “at least they’re ghostly”. Earning an eyeroll from Danny, “har har har, though fully agreed”, looking to Sam, “I am so looking forward to a confused and panicked call from Vlad. Because this-”, gesturing to his entire body, which while is back to his jumpsuit, he is still rocking the cloak and the staff’s stuck in a little solid prehnite ring, “-is not ‘standard halfa physical changes’ and we know how Vlad pays waaaaaaay too much attention to my physical appearance”.

Sam barks a laugh, “he pays more attention than you do”.

“In my defence, Vladdie’s got all the time in the world to be a weird nosey bastard. I, however, am a busy busy man”.

Tucker puts a hand to his chest, “if only you could work from home like me”; earning him a smack over the head from Sam. Danny just chuckles, transforming back human and planting his one good foot on the ground, “that’s only because they decided you’d be too much of a security and safety threat otherwise”.

“That changes nothing”.

Danny throwing his arms around their shoulders as they walk into the school. The administration just ignores them and doesn’t even try to force his two friends to get visitors badges, knew a lost cause when they saw one. Danny glances from one to another, “so you two just sitting in for funsies?”.

Sam rolls her eyes while Tucker chuckles, “Hell yeah why not”. Which Danny just laughs at while using their shoulders as support to lift himself off the ground, swing his legs up, and double kicks open his classroom door.

Ashley jumps, startled, and joins the rest of the class in staring at him before muttering, “Uh, how is it that we’re almost always here slightly before you”.

Danny scoffs, “because I’m chill like that”, while his friends carry him to and drop him into his seat before wandering to the back of the classroom. Danny holds up a finger, “also-”, throwing his one leg up onto the desk, gesturing at his armoured ‘dress shoes’ because yes, he’s still wearing Clocky’s gifts, “-I broke my leg in three separate places this morning. Fun, I know, no need to be jealous. Also got in a little light stabbing because I may have put a little too much effort into sassing someone”.

Valerie sighs very audibly and painfully, “Danny, why? Just why?”, she has long since learned to not care all that much about his injuries. His contamination whisked them away like magic anyway.

Emilie snorts, “I’m more interested in the fucking cloak”. Which Amber absolutely chimes in on, “talk about a fashion don't”. Danny points at her, “hey f̵̶uc̡k̶͝͞ you”; earning more than a couple laughs. Danny shrugging, “anyway, cloaky grants me special knowledge powers so I am officially ‘wise’”. That gets him an eraser to the head, which Danny ignores as he keeps talking, “the ghosties decided that teaching you ghost thingies is officially my job”.

Valerie stares at him, “… but that’s already your job”. Danny shrugs, “eh ghosts like to feel superior”.

Dash throws his hands out, completely derailing the conversation, “what? Are you not going to pink slip Jesse for the eraser?”. Danny smirks at his former bully, “nope. I do have one with your name on it if you’d like though”. Dash scowls at him and Tucker’s laughter is absolutely a bit loud. Which gets James’s attention, him turning to the two, “and what about you two? Why are you here?”. Sam smirks, “living crutches”. Which really should have been the obvious answer to everyone.

Danny beams, “yup! Waaaaay better than some s͟h̴̛it҉t̛y̵̧͜ wood. And yes I got hired by ghosts to do the thing that I already got hired by humans to do, am I changing the lesson plans because of that? Haha f͞u̴͜͟c͏͝k no. Now as for class, we’re gonna talk forbidden knowledge because I am feeling petty”. Which yes, people laugh at.

-

Barely halfway through Charles just kind of barges in, fuck Danny needs to redo his booby traps. Charles looking him up and down, smirking, “oh I so had to see this. Tell me you are starting a cult without telling me you’re starting a cult”. Danny blinks hard at that before bursting out laughing, pointing at him and deadpanning, “yes”.

Emilie beams and sits up straight, “oh we should absolutely all wear cloaks now, Hell yeah”. Amber glares at her, “I’d rather drop out”. Valerie just rolls her eyes at the preppy girl.

Danny looks to the girls, “a couple Christians have already made it their mission to report me daily for satanic indoctrination so that would have some interesting end results”. Charles chuckles, “oh this so is a cult, and if you were a spawn of satan I wouldn’t even be surprised”, then quickly closes the door.

Dale chuckles awkwardly, “I think one thing this class has taught me is that Mr. Trent is way weirder than I thought”. Danny snorts, “oh you have no idea, the things that man has asked me”. He also had a feeling the man tried to break into his house/bedroom once because he got over-excited about some curiosity of his. Shrugging, “back to illegal dealings with guardians and how our mayors a d̶̢i̶͠c̶̨͝k҉͏w͢e̷͟a͏şl̛͘e͘…”.

He doesn’t even get to speak for ten minutes before fucking Vlad bursts in. Danny really needs to re-booby trap that fucking door. Damn. Too bad Vladdie wasn’t in ghost form, then the anti-ghost coating on the door would have at least done something to keep out the rich nutter.

“Daniel, what the Gouda have you gotten yourself involved in now?”.

Danny looks to him slowly, gestures to his class dramatically, “excuse you, frootloop? I mean, timing. But Ancients, chill your tits. Could this not wait twenty f͜͟u̶̕c̸̢͝kin̸g̢̨ minutes? f͞u̴͜͟c͏͝k”. Vlad just glares at him.

Dash leans over to Dale, “the Zone is the mayor doing here?”. Dale just shrugs. Todd snickers meanly, “maybe Danny pissed him off too, because the mayor sure as shit isn’t here to see your shitty ass, Dash”.

“Fuck you”.

“Screw off, Todd”.

Todd just smirks smugly to himself instead of responding to either jock.

Emilie snickers, “maybe he felt Danny talking about him and was summoned”.

Sam smirks to herself, inspects her nails, and deadpans, “it’s cult powers”. Which lots of people actually make ‘ahhh’ and ‘hmmm’ and other understanding agreeing sounds at.

Vlad scowls at the goth, “oh nothing so drab or petty”, actually walking up to Danny and lifting up the cloak, “I am talking of this”. Looking to Danny, “butter biscuits, Daniel”.

Danny snorts, “no I will not butter your biscuits”. Vlad absolutely subtly shoots him with an ecto-beam in his good legs knee. Fucker. Danny rolling his eyes, “the Observants are occasionally tolerable… tolerable-ish. And are occasionally capable of being mildly decent… decent-ish”. Vlad stares at him for a bit before shaking his head, “your desire to be tortured out of existence truly amazes me”, smirking, “if you wanted to suffer you could just fill out a request and I’d be happy to appease you”.

Valerie coughs and actively spits out some water. Dale quirks an eyebrow, “did… did the mayor just threaten to torture Danny?”.

Emilie starts cackling, “yes, yes he did!”.

Danny waves everyone off, “oh please, this is tame and lame”, looking back to Vlad, “I would but only if I could get payment in the form of feeding your internal organs to your cat”. Vlad actually chuckles faintly at that and shakes his head almost fondly. Pulling on his suit jacket to straighten it, “well I guess you’re perfectly well, albeit stupid, but well. I’ll leave you to your… duties”.

“It’s only a duty if I make someone crap their pants”.

Vlad actually stops with his hand on the doorknob at that, looking back, “a poop joke, Daniel? Really?”. Danny just smirks and finger guns while Vlad leaves.

Danny glancing at the clock, “whelp, continuing this class is pointless”, shrugging and looking around at everyone, “I’m honestly amazed this hasn’t already come up yet but me and Vladdie have a very interesting family dynamic”.

Which results in multiple shouted, “FAMILY!?!?!?!?”, comments from everyone.

Valerie rolls her eyes and glances around, “he’s Danny’s godfather”. Danny beams and nods, “yup! And that I’m his chosen heir”.

Dash stares and mutters, “what the fuck”, at that; which, fair. Danny just chuckles meanly at him while the bell rings.

Amber walks up to him through, twirling her hair a little, “so are you, like, rich?”. Danny can absolutely tell people are taking their time to leave class just to hear his response. So Danny smirks, “whole fam is. FentonWorks makes a lot of money. Plus! the government pays us”.

Dale looks almost horrified and Dash is just muttering, “what the fuck”, to himself repeatedly. Amber shaking her head, “well you coulda said something”. Which Danny tolls his eyes at.

Sam doesn’t let him respond though, her snapping, “and what? Have all you people liking and ‘befriending’ him purely because of something so goddamn shallow? As if. Danny -Ancients we are better than that”. Amber, Dash, and Dale all make offended noises; Emilie and Todd can be heard laughing out in the hall. Fuck, Danny’s pretty sure he even hears Hanna loudly cackling out there and she’s not even in his class or even still in school still. Here to hang out with Emilie perhaps? Danny just keeps on smirking as everyone finally leaves and his door clicks shut.

Is he surprised when Vlad suddenly regains visibility next to his desk with crossed arms? Ancients no, fully fucking expected. Even Tuck and Sam are unphased, though they do chuckle to themselves a little while glaring mistrustfully at the man. Danny sighs and looks to the man, “Vlad, I’m fine”, gesturing around at the empty classroom, “all of this just apparently made me qualified to become a Guardian, a Guardian of knowledge”.

Vlad scowls at that.

“And also apparently I’m the ambassador of ghosts now?”.

Now that makes Vlad blink, “and you weren’t already?”.

“That’s what I said!”, waving a hand dismissively at Vlad, “it’s not like you were going to do that”.

Vlad shakes his head, “indeed”, frowning, “but ‘Guardian’? Really, Daniel”. Tucker coughs into his hand, “oooh someone's jealous”. Vlad barely dignifies that with a quick glare.

Danny shrugs, “eh it is what it is”, finger gunning, “but don’t you worry, Vladdie, I’ve still got that claim to the High Throne”.

“Unfortunate”.

Danny laughs, “to you maybe”, summoning out his staff from the ring and holding it lazily behind his neck to rest his head on it, “but for now I do the shitty duty of teaching”. Vlad glares at him for that repeat joke/joke reference. It was pretty crappy, ha ha.

Vlad purses his lips after a second, “well I could lend my expertise in that regard-”.

Danny snorts and cuts him off, “trying to ‘get in the good graces of a Guardian’ will not get you out of the very bad graces of the Observants”.

Vlad rolls his eyes though seems slightly disappointed, “as if my reasons would be so people-pleasing. You know I’m not the type”.

Sam audibly scowls, “oh we know”.

Danny, however, grins meanly, “now you can certainly be a guest speaker just to piss them off”, holding up a finger, “let’s make it about ghost portals and the effect they’ve had between realms”.

Vlad smirks at him, “you are playing with fire, dear boy”. Danny knows the man’s going to make his folks look bad, but honestly? hurting his parents' reputation was impossible and no one would be even slightly surprised. Also yes, he’s aware that basically having the two halfas discuss the very thing that made them halfas was actively asking for it. Sam and Tuck shake their heads in the background while halfa and halfa shake hands.

(Informing Lancer of this resulted in him genuinely questioning if Danny and Vlad were getting along these days, so guess Lancer also noticed his hostility towards the mayor, not that that was hard. Lancer was a bit confused by the fact that the town mayor was into the ecto-sciences though).

---

Apparently Charles, and maybe Danny’s entire class, took the ‘cult’ thing a little too seriously or maybe just had a little too much fun with the idea over the next week because now he’s been called into Lancer’s office to talk about starting a cult. Fuck.

Danny poking his head in and waving awkwardly, “heeeeeeey Lance-y”. Lancer just glares at him and sighs deeply, so Danny goes and takes a seat, “soooooo, I swear I didn’t actually start a cult this time”.

Lancer quirks an eyebrow, “‘this time’?”.

“Eh, it’s happened”. At Lancer’s pained expression Danny adds on, “hey, you knew full well what you were getting into. I keep reminding you of this”.

“And yet you keep one-upping yourself”. Danny finger guns and winks at that. Lancer shakes his head, “regardless, yes I’ve been getting a lot of concerned calls regarding cult behaviour. Though some are clearly just taking any excuse to complain about you specifically”.

“Yeah a lot of adult adults really hate my guts for some reason”.

“I couldn’t imagine why that would be, Daniel”. Lancer shakes his head again before digging in his desk and pulling out some papers, “so now you and I are going to be making up letters addressing this and sending them out to all the parents”.

Danny’s sags back in his chair and groans, “ah come on, man! This is Charles’s fault! Not mine!”.

“I’m sure you encouraged it”.

Danny gives a very petulant and pouty, “…maybe”, perking up a little, “but so did literally everyone else”.

“Students can get away with it, you, as a teacher, can not”.

Danny pouts at him again, “boo. Boo to you”. Which gets him glared at before Lancer hands him letters to work on. This is gonna suck ass. Fuck him.

-

Did writing up letters suck? YES. MAJORLY. But Danny was honestly cackling now seeing as Lancer let him read all the complaint letters. Some claiming he was certainly coding classes with hidden satanic messages of murder to increase the ghost population. Others claiming he was teaching them to torture people; which wasn’t entirely wrong, how to harm a ghost could be also used to torture them or a human technically. And a couple claiming he WAS a ghost, which was just straight-up true. There was two insisting that a priest needs to be present for his classes, which fuck no; he’s already had one too many run-ins with holy-water-rosary-clutching types.

Danny leaning back and chuckling, “people are crazy”.

“Coming from you?”.

Danny points at Lancer, “hey, crazy knows crazy”. Lancer puts his hands up in surrender.

---

Did Danny feel like having a guy who arguably could have actually become a cult leader if he wanted to guest speak the day after the letters went out was actively being spiteful? Yes. Though the fact that this happened on the day that Walker curb stomped his throat also felt spiteful. (Was Danny wearing crust punk pants again today? Absolutely, purely because of the multiple anti-cop patches on it). Danny clearing his throat painfully and using his quill to write on the board, ‘cheese head will be doing the talkie walkie today. Don’t play with portals kids’, and draws an arrow pointing at Vlad before sticking the thing back into his hair.

At least half the class quirks their eyebrows at him so he croaks out, “got throat curb-stomped by the po-po”. Vlad chuckles, “your timing is impeccable”. Danny flips him off while putting a little triangle of paper on the side of his desk reading ‘return books here ditto with the essay thingies on them’. Surprisingly almost all of them were undamaged. Val’s was a little singed and stained, Dash’s had a coffee ring on the cover, and Dale’s looked like it had been burned on a stove element; but Todd’s literally had the pages all torn out of the hardcover, it was obviously intentional.

Vlad eyes the stack for a second before actually addressing everyone, while the class tries not to be weird -or actively tries to murder him with her mind in Valerie’s case- over the mayor freaking Vlad Master, near richest man on the planet, teaching their freaking class. “For those of you that don’t know, which I imagine is all of you, I worked with Daniel’s parents in the ecto-field back in college”. That earns the man a round of coughs and disbelieving staring. Danny just nods to confirm the man’s statement.

Vlad speaks sounding truly pained, “Jack couldn’t make anything that didn’t go horribly wrong if his life depended on it, and that’s how he got me sent to the hospital for seven years with ecto-acne and didn’t even bother to visit”.  Danny has to try really hard not to laugh at him. “I will find and force-fed you nails if you say anything, Daniel”. Which honestly just makes it harder not to mock the man relentlessly.

Todd speaks up for him though, “wow sounds like someone’s pissy, bet it was your fault actually”. Vlad glares at him, “coming from a child who’s going to get abducted by a man who wears glasses and a ratty scarf tonight”. Everyone gives Vlad some very confused looks and Danny has to put his head down and wheeze slightly painfully into his desk. This was a good idea. Also a horrible one, but whatever.

Vlad shakes his head, “Jack was the one who decided to power up a prototype ghost portal in my face, I will have you know”. Danny sticks up a finger and mutters, “diet pop in filtrator”. Earning a glance from Vlad, “that fudging imbecile”.

Emilie snickers, “I think the mayor hates Danny’s dad just a little bit”. More than a couple fellow teens nod.

Vlad then goes and erases Danny’s whiteboard writing and draws out an over detailed diagram of a man made protal and a natural one. Danny rolls his eyes at the overkill, but Vlad was nothing if not highly excessive. Who shows up to ‘teach’ in a fucking Armenian suit? Danny’s pretty sure the buttons are solid rubies, like, for Ancients sake.

“Natural or artificial some basic rules, that even the simple-minded can follow, are the same. Don’t create a portal in front of someone’s face. Don’t walk inside of one and then activate it-”. Danny doesn’t so much as move when Vlad smacks the side of his head, ever since Vlad found out that that was how Danny half-died the crazy nutter has given him shit for it at every opportunity. So he saw the head smack coming a mile away.

Dale chuckles, “looks like Danny’s a dumbass”. Dash snickering meanly, “what’s new”. Danny absolutely holds up a pink slip over that. “Oh come on!”, Dash sags in his desk grumpily; you’d think the guy would learn. Vlad’s just smirking faintly before continuing, “don’t walk through randomly. And don’t tie a string to it and another person in an attempt to make the portal follow them”, Vlad smacks Danny over the head again. Danny has a feeling Vlad’s annoyed with him today for some reason. It couldn't possibly be that Danny replaced the water in his water bed with wet cement just before he went to bed two days ago, could it? Never mind, Danny knows that is exactly why. Fuck that was funny.

“Hey, it worked”.

“It really should not have, Daniel”.

“Cloning also shouldn’t work yet here we are”.

Vlad glares at him but continues talking at everyone, “another basic rule is that if the portal is any colour other than green, leave it alone; the town and I will not cover whatever happens if you don’t…”.

Vlad actually manages to get to go on for a while without being actively petty towards Danny or starting a mild bickering match with him. Danny’s honestly a little impressed. Vlad also gets almost overexcited repeatedly, very much proving he’s a scientist at heart while also clearly forgetting he’s talking to teenagers; more than a few things clearly go over everyone’s head. Val still looks like she’s plotting murder though; Danny can admire the tenacity.

But when Danny straightens out a bit from his ghost sense going off Vlad sighs, picks him up by his cloak collar and just walks him to stick out the window, unceremoniously dropping him. Danny screaming, “WHAT THE FU̢C̶͞҉K͟! FU̢C̶͞҉K͟ YOU!”, as he falls and hits the bushes below with a thud. Vlad leaning his head out to reply, “you were going to leave anyways, thought I would simply hurry the whole process up. I do know how lazy and tardy you can be”.

“I WILL PISS IN YOUR FRIDGES FANCY ICE-MAKING COMPARTMENT!”.

Vlad doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead turning back to the class with a smirk, “so on how to topple the ghost government…”. The class stares at him in shock and amusement at the sudden subject change. Valerie just stares with even more hatred now knowing full well he set her up during the Pariah incident when he gave her that ring. She does throw an ‘are you okay’ text to Danny though, which he responded with ‘I smell like bush’ to.

What’s really sad is that Danny got dropped in a bush from the second story of a building because the Box Ghost was having a lovers quarrel with The Lunch Lady in the park. By the time Danny got there it had descended into a full-blown food fight involving boxed-only foods. More than a few townsfolk had even joined in, and honestly? Danny said fuck it -not out loud ‘cause fuck his throat still hurt- and just joined in the chaos.

Vlad could handle a class of teenagers and if the man tried anything then Val wouldn’t hesitate to outright commit attempted murder.

Did Boxy win the food fight? No, obviously not. The Lunch Lady wasn’t super powerful but she still outclassed The Box Ghost’s ass. Danny finger gunning at the box-themed man who’s currently covered in crackers, “I’d buy her something nice before she decides to fill all your boxes with enough meat to make them rounded”. The Box Ghost looks completely scandalised and insulted, “you don’t think she would”.

“Oh she would, Boxy. She absolutely would”. Considering that women caused a meat tsunami purely because Sam wouldn’t eat meat…

The Box Ghost flies off in a hurry and Danny gets to back to his class with literal armfuls of boxed goods. He also got to discover that Vlad could not handle a class of teens who were now discussing how to overthrow Vlad from the mayoral office to the mains dismay and insult. Vlad looking at him, “your students are demons. Suiting”. Danny just chucked a box of frootloops at him.

(Apparently and according to the Ghost Writer, the Observants went and gave Walker shit for interfering with his Guardian duties. Danny was absolutely tickled green by this news. The Ghost Writer, however, was not happy about Todd’s apparent intentional destruction of a book; Danny doesn’t envy Todd who did, in fact, get abducted that night).

Chapter 6: Feather Quills And ‘Tests’ To Fill

“Danny, you’re overthinking this”.

Danny sighs and leans back in his chair, groaning very loudly at his bedroom ceiling before looking to his sister, who was, as per usual, attempting to be helpful… helpful-ish. “But this is the final, it’s kinda a big fucking deal. And considering how fucking splendidly I usually did on those things, how the FUCK am I writing one up? Plus, like, how do I condense this shit? Do you know how many subjects I wound up covering? Too fucking many!”.

Jazz hums encouragingly at him so he just keeps on ranting, which was probably exactly what she wanted.

Danny gesturing a hand around wildly, “ecto-biology, ecto-linguistics, ecto-medicare, ecto-history slash ecto-culture, ecto-psychology slash ecto-behaviouralism, ecto-literature, ecto-mechanics… Too fucking many”, sighing and sagging, “also pretty sure I just made up, like, all those names”.

Jazz giggles a little, “ecto-Medicare is accurate, though I have a feeling you explained far more than just treating ecto-burns or regular ecto-contamination”. Danny snaps his fingers at her, “well obviously, might as well teach the fuckers how to treat a ghost and not just humans affected by ecto stuff”.

“A roundabout way to achieve self-preservation. Should any of them stumble across an injured Phantom”.

Danny pointing aggressively at her, “hey, none of that”. Jazz just could not chill it with the psychoanalysing. She just grins at him like she’s done nothing wrong. Him sighing again and just staring up at his ceiling, randomly mentally drawing out the constellations his glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars made.

Jazz getting up and ruffling his head jerks him out of his ceiling watching though, “hey!”, him flailing his hands around to shoo her off which, as per usual, just makes her giggle at him fondly; which he absolutely pouts at her over. Her speaking up after a bit, “you know, if you find a proper written test so annoying you could just simply do something more unconventional”, her beaming a bit smugly, “my advanced abnormal psychology prof didn’t even make a final at all”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “yeah but that’s university, they can do that. And as awesome as it is that you got to start break early, they should have kept you”, and smirks while she shoves him one.

“Now that was just mean, Danny”. Shaking her head and going back to sitting on his bed, “but I am serious. Do a final project, or just an essay”.

Danny glares slightly, “essays as finals are the goddamn worst, I would never”; she rolls her eyes at that.

“I prefer them actually”, nodding to herself, “far more room for exploring ideas and showing your prof your personality”.

Danny grumbling, “more like how to really rub it in when someone doesn’t know everything perfectly”. Sighing after a bit, because she did have a point. Tests were fucking bullshit and did a shitty ass job of doing literally anything other than telling how good someone’s short-term memory was. Becoming more opinionated about how schools do schooling is one side-effect of this teacher thing that he so did not see coming. Eh whatever, not like he isn’t right. But what the fuck else can he even do? What could even qualify as ‘finals’ worthy? He sure as shit isn’t doing oral presentations, those things were like a mild form of torture… unless you were a drama kid, which Danny was not. Sure he didn’t have to worry about whatever the fuck being an absolute clusterfuck because a regular-ass test would be a clusterfuck anyway since he basically covered the ghostly version of EVERYTHING, EVERY SUBJECT AVAILABLE IN SCHOOL… except math. Fuck math. What kind of nightmare test jumps from laws of an alternate death dimension to ghostly art? Ghost hunger followed right up by portal safety? Plus, does he even remember everything he taught? Ha ha FUCK NO! What, in any world, would make anyone think otherwise. A ‘project’ would totally help deal with that issue. Grumbling, “how would I even have a project that covers everything?”.

Jazz humming to herself and tapping her chin, “well you could have them go fishing for blob ghosts through a portal?”.

Danny blinks a bit harshly, what the fuck? Looking to her, “Jazz… what the Zone kind of Uni friends have you been making?”. Though he guesses that anything involving blob ghosts would cover a tone of shit. And it’s not like he hasn’t talked a literal fuck ton about blob ghosts. They were like a go-to example/comparison tool.

Jazz shrugs, “my dorm-mate likes to fish dangerous fish”. Danny just blinks, well that sorta? explained it. Sorta.

“What kinda fish”.

“She kept a displayed piranha”.

Danny whistles at that, damn, “guess Amity’s not the only land of crazies”. She laughs a little at that and nods with slightly crinkled eyes.

Danny uses his foot to push himself around in his chair, grumbling incoherently to himself. He did kinda like the idea of dragging blob ghosts into his problems, but taking people portal fishing -snort- was just ridiculous even by his standards. Not that Charles hadn’t ‘gone fishing’ in his desk to get his hands on one; yes Danny’s still a little miffed about that, but hey, at least the man kept his grubby hands out of his desk ever since.

Blinking, wait a fucking minute…

Grinning, Danny stops spinning and loudly slams his hands down on his desk repeatedly, “HA! Pet ghosts!”. Jazz shakes her head good-naturedly, “not sure the school will go for an adopt-a-ghost program as a final”.

Danny points at her and snaps his fingers repeatedly and a bit excitedly, “no no no no no no. Blob ghosts. Catch your own blob ghost. Keeping It ‘alive’ would cover almost everything, catching It would cover most else, and naming It, like, a ghost name in ghost speak could be the whipped cream on top!”.

“Danny, how are you going to get all the parents to even agree to that?”. Glaring at him when he smirks, “without abusing overshadowing”. Danny actively pouts at that. He does have an actual answer though, “oddly most of them take me seriously or respect me some. Weird, I know”, sighing slightly and tilting his head, “Sophia’s still hate my guts though”.

Jazz laughs at him, “so what you’re saying is that they are not going to approve”.

“When does everyone ever approve of the shit I do? Get the majority vote and everyone else can just suck it up”.

“See that is likely part of why they apparently hate you”.

Danny flips her off for that one.

Jazz shaking her head and getting up, “regardless, feel like treating your very proud big sister to dinner?”. Danny rolls his eyes fondly and sighs like this is just so much effort and such a massive hassle while getting up, “fine. But we’re going to the Soup And Ham Can because their coffee’s good”. That earns him an eye roll right back as they head out of his room.

---

Now see Danny wasn't stupid or mean, he damn well looked around town to make sure that a bunch of teens could feasibly capture some blob ghosts… without ghostly superpowers. And yeah he also did the responsible thing of actually doing the proper paperwork which made him feel super old and simultaneously like he was too young to do this kind of shit. He’s eighteen and ‘doing paperwork’? Fuck. It so didn’t help that he accidentally complained about paperwork around Vlad, which turned into the elder halfa complaining about his own paperwork; which both of them got just mildly weirded out by. Vlad still thought of him as a child after all, and Vlad was absolutely an old man in Danny’s eyes. It was fucking weird. Vlad did get a little smug about Danny ‘being like him because there’s no way that fool Jack did any paperwork’, which did cause the entire encounter to turn into a minor fistfight. Regardless of the man being right or not.

At least Danny was stronger than the man these days, and both of them were well aware of that. Which honestly? might be part of why Vlad chilled the fuck out.

Anyway, said paperwork that’s making him feel old is absolutely why he’s getting an early morning Lancer call. Has to be. Unless Danny absentmindedly destroyed something without knowing it… which was always a fair possibility.

“Daniel, I’ll admit this is probably the most interesting request I’ve ever received as a finals alternative and I can’t say I’m particularly surprised that you’d rather forgo a formal written final”.

Danny snickering and leaning against the park's water fountain, “hey you know me, I like to keep things lively in the deadly kinda way”.

“And so long as blob ghosts aren’t capable of being deadly then I don’t see a reason to deny this. But this can not interfere with other classes, as in, they can not bring ‘awesome pet ghosties’ to their other classes”.

Danny snorts at that, yeah no fucking shit, “well duh, Lance. That would be asking for trouble especially with Charles”.

Lancer audibly sighs, nearly groans actually, on the other end, “now I don’t doubt that. And because I don't want any possibly ecto-contaminated paper from FentonWorks making its way into the students' homes, I already sent out the permission slips”.

Danny blinks, well damn, appreciated he guesses? Blinking again, “huh, well ah, thanks, Lance, I guess. I’m taking it that you just mailed them out though and that I still have to actually tell my own class of fellow teens that they have mandatory pets now?”. That gets a chuckle out of the man.

“You requested this, Daniel, now you have to deal with it. Though somehow I think you’ll be getting ‘thank you’s rather than annoyed groaning and complaining”.

Danny chuckles, “hey if you want everyone to like you more you shouldn’t assign so much work”.

“I’d be doing you teens a disservice”.

Danny rolls his eyes at that one, the man was dedicated he’ll give him that much. “Not ‘fully grasping literary genius’ isn’t really gonna affect anyone negatively, Lance. I’d definitely rather sleep than brush up on your beloved Shakespeare”.

“It’s good for the mind”.

“So’s sleep”, snorting, “and I missed enough of that as it is”.

“Now that I can agree and attest to, considering your class habits. I’ll let you go”.

Danny blinks at his phone, well that was abrupt. Fucking rude. Eh, it’s not like Danny didn’t fuck off randomly all the time. Oh well. Sighing and pushing off of the fountain, “whelp, guess I know what I’m stuck doing tomorrow… or the day after tomorrow? Fuck, what day even is it?”.

Hint: it was Friday. And Danny, like a dumbass, forgot to even attempt to show up for class.

“Ah well. Fuck”.

It probably says a lot that Lancer didn’t even bother cussing him out for that. Should he feel ashamed? embarrassed? at least a little guilty? Probably. Does he? Honestly, no. He stopped feeling guilty about that kind of shit a long ass time ago. Being a little half-dead hero that has to tap out constantly and lie all the time kinda does that to you after a hot minute or two. Which probably wasn’t exactly healthy. But also, it’s not like ‘healthy’ was really a thing he was familiar with these days. Eh, whatever.

Anyway, time for a night fly/patrol.

---

So now it was Monday and Danny officially has to ‘face the music’ or whatever the fuck.

To bad Technus got fancy with the house's microwave and basically destroyed half of Danny’s bedroom. Meaning he couldn’t even look good… good-ish. He absolutely gets some smug pride from the fact that him going to his ‘professional job’ in tattered clothes would piss Vlad off something fierce though. Actually deciding to stick with wearing a pair of pants with one leg torn off so badly that his boxers were able to be seen probably wasn’t the world's smartest idea. At least his shitty Antichrist button-up t-shirt was intact! … More or less anyways. (It was missing a pocket and maybe the bottom wasn’t quite the same shape it once was but he’s not too sure about that bit). The cloaks perfectly fine of course, being ghostly clothing and all.

Pushing the classroom door open with his foot, “alright little ectoplasm knowledge nuggets, we actually have some housekeeping s̷͞h̷i͞ţ̧ to see to so…”.

Val doesn’t even let him actually get to the whiteboard, “so what was up with Friday?”.

Emilie leans back in her seat, “yeah, the only class that’s actually neat is also the one class with a tardy teach”.

Danny points at her, “hey, I resent that statement of truth”, finishing his walk to the board and smacking it, “honestly? I forgot”. Val just stares at him so he winks at her, earning him a scowl and a thrown pencil; which he lets just bounce off his head. Pulling out his quill and striking it all the way down the board, the words ‘FINAL ASSIGNMENT’ magically forming.

Jesse shakes his head, “I still don’t understand that stupid quill”.

Brittney scoffing, “whatever, it’s not like he’ll give us one”. Danny snorts over his shoulder at that, “yeah, no s̷͞h̷i͞ţ̧”. Turning around dramatically enough to make the cloak fan out, “what’s also no s̷͞h̷i͞ţ̧ is that finals are a thing and that I also -like any sane teen- hate written exam s̷͞h̷i͞ţ̧, so we’re not doing that”.

To no ones surprise that announcement results in some smiles, some cheers, one or two fist pumps/high fives, and multiple relieved sighs.

Val chuckles and leans her chin on a palm, “yeah I was wondering how you were going to write some test that covered everything”. Danny absolutely chuckles and nods at that.

Plopping down onto the side of his desk, “so hear me out, since I’m obviously not writing some written thingamajig out and I’m not nearly enough of a sadist to make oral presentations a thing that’s happening”, clapping his hands together cheerily, “so instead y’all are gonna be ghost hunters for a bit”, shrugging, “or for however long it takes you to catch a blob ghost in our town”, tilting his head and tapping his chin, “which honestly shouldn’t take that long all things considered”.

The class just blinks at him for a bit before most burst out laughing.

Emilie wheezes a little, “you are one quirky fucker”. Valerie shaking her head, “here I thought you were about to ask us to catch a proper ghost”, smirking, “which I’m down for”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “as fun as it would be to torment Boxy by making fifteen odd teens repeatedly catch him, I doubt that would accomplish much”.

Todd puts his hands behind his head, “we can totally still do that”. Dale laughing, “HA! Yeah! That could be fun!”, and elbows Dash a couple of times which turns into a mild dude-bro shoving match. Todd snickers meanly at that before looking back at Danny, “and what’s up with the lame-ass underwear? Becoming a bad stripper or something”.

Danny rolls his eyes at the jab, “Technus got a little friendly with a microwave”.

“They’re green”. Apparently, Todd doesn’t give a flaming fuck about the ‘why’, just the colour. Figures.

Valerie rolls her eyes at the fake ass ‘bad boy’, “Danny’s a joke, of course they’re ecto-green”. Danny nodding and rolling his hand about in the air, “and besides, sleeping in phase-proof underwear is a pretty solid idea, all things considered”. That earns some understanding cringing from the class. Danny sticking up a finger, “just like having you lot bring me some captured but not destroyed-”, giving Val a meaningful look, “-spookies makes perfect sense for an ecto-ology final!”.

A couple of people shrug, Ashley muttering, “oh what the Hell”, toying with her fingers a little, “but does it have to be a big one?”.

Danny waves her off, “naw, so long as it’s in the blob family I don’t care”.

James sighs, leaning on a palm, “but why can’t we just do something normal? An essay?”.

Danny puts a hand to his chest in mock offence, “why I never! I just said I’m not a sadist”, waving a hand around, “and because, I am the true multimedia teacher of spooky academia, just handing out knowledge like a new kind of haemophilia. So I am creating g̵͡o͝d̶͡d͠҉am̛n͘҉ new educational finals criteria. Just don’t go getting into necrophilia on me”, and winks as everyone else groans.

Dustan muttering, “so much for not being a sadist”. Sophia sticks up a hand.

“Yes?”.

She plays with her fingers a little, “well, um, what about our parents?”.

James jumps in, “hey yeah, are we just supposed to keep a ghost in our rooms till finals week?”.

Dash scoffs, “aww is some scared of a little blob ghost”. James just rolls his eyes at that.

Danny shrugs, “eh Lance already sent out permission stuff so parent stuff’s already covered. And naw, catch one by…”, humming to himself, “… oh let’s say next Monday. Bring me proof”, holding up a finger, “but also don’t let the little bugger go. Because if you think all I’m asking is ghost capture then ho boy you’re wrong”. Let them make of that what they want. More than a few look slightly disturbed and he absolutely hears Ashley mutter something about dissection. Danny’s pretty sure Lancer wouldn’t let him get away with that. The blender stunt had been pushing it already, apparently there was a such thing as detention for teachers. Shudder.

Jesse glares at Danny then Valerie, “you better not be marking this on time because some of us have unfair advantages”.

Dash jumps in, “yeah! Little miss anti-ghost psycho probably fantasises about this!”.

Todd rolling his eyes, “as if you need to worry about that, you’d piss yourself before catching one anyway”.

“FUCK YOU!”.

Danny chuckles, his class was probably the only one where anyone could shout ‘FUCK YOU’ and not get in shit. Though Dash being ‘star football star McGee’ probably wouldn’t get in trouble for it in any class. Tch. “Now now, just g̵͡o͝d̶͡d͠҉am̛n͘҉ catch one”, shrugging, “don’t care how or when or colour or whatever the f̵̛u̕͞c̴̶̡k̶̨͠. Ancients, go climb a crane and fish one out of the bucket for all I care. But if you die, don’t haunt me”.

Val sighs, giving him an exasperated look, “great, now someone’s going to do exactly that”. Emilie laughing, “I call dibs!”. Making Val thump her head on her desk. Danny does at least give her an apologetic shrug, hey not his fault that people like to take him up on his bullshit to fuck around and find out.

(Did someone actually take him up on the crane idea? According to the news, yes, yes someone did. Danny’s personal bets are not on Emilie even if she did ‘dibs it’, it was probably one of the quiet kids honestly. At least they were smart enough to wear a disguise. So long as Lancer doesn’t find out…).

---

Danny groans face down in his bed, Lancer was in his bedroom. WHY?!?!?!? Well okay, he knew exactly why. Lancer specifically asked for Danny’s makeshift final to not interfere with other classes and what happened? Well apparently a blob ghost ate the cord to the old school projector that Joshep loved so much. BECAUSE OF COURSE THAT HAPPENED! Danny had some truly shit luck. Groaning again, “I didn’t ask them to randomly bring them to school!”, mumbling, “at least not until next week”. What dumbass caused his problem? Probably Todd honestly. Dash might want to shit kick him but the jock was not nearly petty/sneaky enough to ‘get Fenturd’ in this kind of roundabout way. Todd, however, was the definition of petty. Though Danny was a lot more petty; but he’s a ghost! He’s allowed to be!

Lancer sighs faintly, “you’re still the reason ultimately. Even if Joshep has little room to talk, considering how his class law experiment went”.

“You’re talking about the one that was a recreation of that prison psychology excitement thing? Because yeah, that was bad even by my standards and my experience with jailers involved a lot more tasers”.

“… Daniel, I explicitly remember you tasing people at that time even though you weren’t even in his class”. Danny can practically hear his technical boss shaking his head, “that doesn’t change that you owe Joshep a new projector, and I am not putting it on the FentonWorks tab”. Danny groans very loudly over that. Fuck.

Danny rolling over in his bed and just staring at the ceiling, “forcing me to spend the paycheck you give me on stuff for the school, smarmy shit”.

“That word doesn’t mean what I think you believe it does”.

Danny shrugs, “eh. And besides, Lance”, turning his head to actually look at the man, who quirks an eyebrow before Danny continues, “lords of knowledge, or whatever, should be allowed to ban finals because reasons”, putting a hand very egotistically to his own chest and trying to bleed ego, “a lord like me specifically”.

Lancer chuckles and shakes his head slowly, “I’m sure you would ban them if Id let you”.

“Oh yeah, no shit. In a frickin’ heartbeat-”.

Both of them pause and glance at the floor when a very loud explosion sounds and actually makes the floor shake a little. Not for the first time Danny’s glad he’s nailed/screwed down a large majority of the shit in his room. He even got those weird suction drinking cups that even he, with his ghostly strength, couldn’t slap over.

Barely seconds later his mom pushes open his door, smiling quickly at Lancer, “sweetie, Mr. Lancer, you may what to head outside”, rolling her eyes a bit fondly, “Jack, the dear, might have blown up the photon carbon ecto-endaton”.

Danny blinks, “you mean that new bomb thing? You guys actually blew up something that was supposed to blow up?”. His mom actually has the fucking balls to nod sheepishly. Lancer, however, is sweating unpleasantly.

They absolutely head outside.

Danny patting Lancer on the shoulder while they stand from the sidewalk watching smoke pour out the door/windows, “I’m guessing this’ll be the last time you make an unexpected house visit?”.

“… your home life worries still… this has not helped”.

“‘Life’! HA! Good one!… so will you not dying today count as payment enough?”.

“No, Daniel. Just no”.

“Damn. Was getting my hopes up for a second”.

Lancer glares at Danny a little before heading home; Danny cackles to himself a little. He may be paying for Joshep’s stupid projector love out of his own pocket, but at least he got to make someone -Lancer- regret their life choices in the process. His ghost sense going off tells him that he’s also going to get someone to regret their death choices. Nice. Two for one coupon.

---

Thankfully there were no other blob ghost-related incidences, that Danny heard about, before Monday.

“So did everyone catch a blob ghost?”. That question gets Danny a pretty solid round of ‘yes’s and people holding up blobs in jars or just waving around their phones to show pictures of their particular blob. Danny nodding to himself, “good good”, sounding ominous, “now your final can begin”.

Earning lots of concerned staring and worried glances at the present blob ghosts. Which makes sense, ominous-ness deserves at least some worry. Especially considering the things that usually followed Danny specifically being ominous.

Danny, content with his mild terrorising, actually explains himself while staring down his class like he’s some kind of government agency boss, “your assignment is thus, you will keep that blob ghost ‘alive’ until the twentieth. One full month. And you bet your knickers I’m gonna be tagging your suckers so I will know if you f̵̛u̕͞c̴̶̡k̶̨͠ it up and try to replace them”, glaring at the class comically, “you can keep it trucking however you see fit, use that knowledge! Bring It to hang around Cored ghost! Give It ecto food! Ecto-water! Use your imagination”, chuckling, “just don’t try creating a ghost portal to throw It in the Zone. That’s a real good way to die”.

Jasper grumbles, “yeah the freaking mayor was pretty clear about that”.

Amber purses her bubblegum pink lips, “and how do you plan to ‘tag them’? Half of us didn’t even bring ours!”, and huffs to herself. Danny smirks almost meanly and flops backwards in his chair to spin around more lazily in it, “I’m a teacher not a cop, meaning I don’t have any jobly standards against breaking and entering”.

Emilie snorts and starts snickering while Dash half shouts, “there’s no way a twerp like you has the guts!”. Dale shrugging, “well his freak folks do bust down walls all the time”.

“Still! Fenton’s a wimp!”, Dash grumbling to himself a little, “even if he’s manned up a little”, grumbling even quieter to himself, “… and some of the wimpiness was faked”.

Danny rolls his eyes, toying with yet another pink slip, “pinky pinky someone should keep their lips zippy zippy”. Earning death glares from Dash. Danny chuckling, “anyway, considering my lack of giving a s̛hi̸t̡ about school rules and whatnot you'd think me also lacking in the s̛hi̸t̡ giving department towards general laws would be some kind of a given”, shrugging, “eh whatever. I’ll tag your suckers and I’ll tag ‘em just right”, and smirks, turning back to face the whiteboard.

Valerie rolls her eyes and coughs a little, “well that wasn’t creepy at all, Danny”. Which really only makes Danny smirk more as he shoves himself out of his chair before going about writing up what in all this ‘final assignment’ even involved with his funky little quill. And while everyone goes about reading that shit he’ll walk around and ‘mark’ all the little blob ghosts, which sit all pretty and proper for him; being that he’s the strong ghosty here and being that they all ‘live’ in his wonderful little lair.

Brittney scowls at her blob, “why does It listen to you? Every time I touch It, It tries to bite me”, her attempting to pet It and getting almost bit in response feels like emphasis, and more than a few people nod at that. Danny just chuckles meanly, “because they fear me”, and moves on without explaining that at all.

Dash scowls and grumbles down at his desk, “as if anything fears him”. Which really just makes Danny smirk. Oh how wrong that was, in more ways than one. Which he wasn’t exactly always happy about. Danny did like certain fear, he was a ghost after all, and he definitely liked it if it was The Observants or Boxy’s fear. Just not genuine fear from the general population of humanity, Amity, the Zone, etcetera.

Danny popping back over to the board, “ookily dookily, now that that’s done and over with”, glancing at the class meanly, “I will get the rest of you later”, then back to the board, “now for actual class class s̛hi̸t̡. Which yeah sure fine, this has nothing to do with the final so technically you could just ignore my a̡̡s͢͞s̸ or f̢̡u͞c҉k͡ off entirely if you think you can sneak out for a half hour-ish without getting caught. But hey! My s̛hi̸t̡ might be useful s̛hi̸t̡”, shrugging, “or at least interesting. Unlike most stupid classes”. That gets him some snickers and laughs. Success. He’s also not surprised no one takes him up on the ‘fucking off and leaving’ option; most people took this class because they actually wanted to hear some nut job yammer on about ghosts… or at this point they just wanted to bear witness to whatever shit might happen to or be done by Danny. Perfectly understandable.

---

“You did what?”.

Danny shoves another mouthful of the noodle dish in his mouth before looking up to his mom, “uhhhh, it seemed like a better idea than some useless info dump regurgitation required test”. Okay so maybe it was stupid of him to think that his folks, oblivious as they often are, would just… not notice? people running around after blob ghosts.

She gives him a worried look, “but Danny, they’re still ghosts. Still dangerous”. Danny makes a point not to roll his eyes. Sure her genuine worry was ludicrously misplaced and steeped in ectophobia but it was still genuine… and while Danny is indeed a little shit, he’s not an utter dick.

He does still wave her off though, “i’s’ine”, swallowing his food, “it’s not like they haven’t spent an entire semester learning about this shit. Ghost shit”. She frowns at him, “still”.

His dad waves her off goofily, “oh I'm sure the kids have some idea what they’re doing, Mads!”, laughing loudly, “especially with Danno over here!”, and smacks Danny one on the back hard enough to make him cough. Danny appreciates the confidence but does he really have to get mildly assaulted at the same time? Not that he really minded but still.

Danny sticking up a finger, “and besides, Lance did approve it soooooooo…”, and waves his hand around limply. He’s honestly a little amazed by that fact still. Either Lancer trusted him a wee bit too much or didn’t want to see what else he might request if denied. It worked out mighty fine if you ask Danny. So far everyone seemed to be doing fine, sure Val had called and asked if she’d lose marks if she ‘used It as a pin cushion’; Danny said ‘yes’, of course… she was definitely disappointed. And both Dash and Dale were trying to teach theirs to fetch footballs. He might have to go give Todd a talking to about trying to turn his into some kind of feudal warlord over the other ‘wild’ blobs though.

She sighs and picks at her food a little, “it’s not that I don’t trust Danny”, actually looking at Danny, “but couldn’t you have just had them catch and release or even track Phantom down and hand them off to him?”. Danny sighs a little, “but that would have hardly covered anything. How’s that supposed to test their understanding of low-level behaviouralism or stuff like ghost hunger”. She actually blinks at him, sounding slightly confused, “ghost… hunger…”.

Ah

Shit

Right

Sometimes he forgets he actually knows -and teaches- shit his folks don’t actually know. Which is weird all alone. But hey, ectophobes don’t deserve to know. So Danny just shrugs and elects not to even attempt to explain himself. They’re -or at least his mom, based on his dad going back to chowing down food- are probably just slightly worried about what he’s teaching his fellow teens.

His mom, of course, presses the issue, “…Danny…”. Which Danny takes as the perfect time to get up and head towards the door, “whelp, guess I should go and stop someone from establishing tyrannical blobby rule”, waving his folks off as he actually heads out said door, “Todd’s kinda a dick… and moron”. He doesn’t miss his mom frowning or her muttering, “maybe this job wasn’t the best idea… and is he implying someone’s trying to teach leadership to a blob?”. His dad laughing a little, “yeah so weird! Those things can’t even be trained not to bite! HA!”.

Danny rolling his eyes as he looks up at the sky, “oh they’re easily trainable”, and chuckling to himself a little.

-

It’s a simple ten-minute flight before he’s got himself perched on his ankles on Todd’s bedroom windowsill. Apparently the guy keeps his bed right next to the window… which is street-facing. Fuck that’s stupid and reckless. How has he never gotten rudely awakened by Phantom him or some other ghost getting throw into/threw this wall. Fucking Ancients, mild death wish much. But hey, it gives Danny the opportunity to be a creepy little bastard gremlin. Aka, Danny absolutely leans ominously down over Todd before speaking, “looks like sleeping beauty’s been naughty”. Todd, like Danny wanted, gets jolted awake, yelps, shuffles backwards, smacks his head on his headboard, and just stares at Danny in shock. Danny snickers meanly, “trying to establish tyrannical rule, tsk tsk tsk, can’t have that now can we”.

Todd gulps and musters up some -clearly fake- bravado, “what the Hell man”.

“Not from Hell but I’m sure Satan would be touched that you think I’m his handy work. Real compliment right there”.

Danny hops off the windowsill, over Todd/his bed, and lands in the guy's room; cloak fluttering in the air faintly all the while, he was technically doing his job right now after all. “So as I was saying, trying to make a merciless authoritative ruler out of your blobby is not part of the final and is honestly quite objectionable”.

“You broke into my room”.

“And you sleep right next to a street-facing window, so clearly I’m not the one making stupid life decisions here, buddy”, turning around and smirking at his fellow teen, “you’re practically begging for a break and enter, be glad it’s just your quirky teacher taking you up on that offer”. Granted he was also basically the most powerful ghost around town, but hey right now he was just teacher. Shrugging, “granted breaking in here isn’t apparently all that entertaining, considering all you’ve done so far is wake up and stare at me from your bed like a brain-dead monkey”.

Todd jerks and glares at him, “aww am I boring you. Get out of my room”.

Danny shrugs again, “ah naw, I’m good right where I am”. Snapping his fingers and sending out a bit of his energy to call over the little blob ghost that Todd’s SUPPOSED TO JUST BE TAKING CARE OF BUT IS INSTEAD GROOMING INTO A WAR MONGER. The blob ghost of course listens and immediately zips over and rolls around under Danny’s raised palm. Danny turns his attention to the little guy, speaking like one does to a small child or kitten who’s being misled by a miscreant, “now you listen here little one, don’t let this jackass fill your head with silly little thoughts of blob world domination”, staring at It meaningfully, “Phantom’s the more peace-seeking type”. The blob actually shudders slightly over the prospect of being rejected by Phantom.

Todd screws up his face and mutters disbelievingly when the blob turns to him and hisses. Danny smirking at the teen, “have fun taking care of them now”, and throws a very cheeky peace sign before strutting smugly over to the window and dropping out it down to the sidewalk.

Danny’s not even slightly surprised to get a bunch of empty energy cans thrown out the window at him along with a very loud, “FUCK YOU”… and a slightly shrieked, “YOU BIT ME!”. Hahahahaha have fun with that Todd, serves him right.

---

Todd had glared at him angrily and was more of a nuisance than usual for multiple days, not that Danny gave a shit. He also ‘reported’ Danny as a ‘peeping Tom’ to Lancer which did result in a ‘conversation’ with the man but Danny’s counter of outing Todd as attempting to turn the general blob community in harbingers of war -which fine was a major exaggeration but whatever- resulted in Lancer sighing exhaustedly and basically throwing out the report. One of these days Danny’s going to run out of ways to make Lancer slightly regret ever offering him a job but that day has yet to come.

Danny smacks a hand on the whiteboard a couple of times, “alrighty alrighty alrighty, test results time!”, turning around and smirking at the class, “you get that s̛h͜i̕͟t͠ now since no one has to waste time grading a bunch of stupid paper scanner thingies and then rechecking them for fu̕͝c͟k̛͜ ̧u͝p̸̨s”, and smacks the board again. Though pausing at the cracking sound and snapping his head around to the board. There’s a decent-sized crack/dent in it, making Danny grin like an idiot, throw his hands up, and cheer, “YES! FINALLY!”. He has cracked the board! It has happened! Turning back to the class, actually tearing up a little and wiping his eyes, “I’m truly overjoyed. Blessed really”.

James blinking and muttering, “is he crying?”. Dash snorting, “ha loser”. Val actually turning around to the jock while Danny holds up a pink slip, “do you never learn?”.

“I’m collecting them at this point”.

Val blinks at that, “now you sound like Danny”. Dash looks genuinely offended and like he’s seconds away from starting a brawl right then and there, “you take that back!”.

“Make me!”.

Danny just laughs and waves a hand dismissively, “now now children, no fighting”. Earning him eye-rolls and scowls, Val laughs though so it’s a win in his books. Summoning out his staff and pointing it rather aggressively at the class, only Ashley jumps so clearly they’ve gotten too used to his shit by now, “now present to me your blob pets for grading!”.

Everyone dutifully pulls out their jarred blob ghosts and places them on their desks. Maple sticking up a hand, “do we have to release them or?”.

Danny chuckles, “you can keep ‘em if you wanna, wouldn’t exactly recommend it but hey Charles’s -that he so rudely stole from me- is doing cool so”, shrugging, making his staffs bell jingle. Danny pushing his energy into his staff making the feathers multiply and extend out to ‘assess’ the blobs. It was fucking weird that his staff could basically do anything so long as it had to do with his ‘role’ as Wisdom Guardian.

Jesse shakes his head at his blob attempting to nibble the feathers, “I’m just going to pretend this makes sense. This class is almost weirder than the ghosts are”. Danny simply smirks at that.

Danny nodding to himself after a bit, feathers retracting, gesturing the staff over the board making the results magically appear. Danny nodding smugly at his handy work/his students' results, fists on his hips, “Ancients the G.I.W. would hate me so much”.

“You say that as if you don’t already”.

Danny ignores that, turning around grinning and gesturing grandly at the board, “behold! Crack or no, your results!”. Walking to his desk and flopping down into his chair, “of course no one failed”, leaning back and feigning being utterly desolate, “oh how disgraceful that would be. To think my pupils would even consider bringing such shame upon me, after everything I have bestowed upon them”.

Val gets up and slams a cup of coffee on his desk, “will you stop being overdramatic now?”. Danny snagging it up eagerly, “oh why thank you”, gesturing dramatically, “my beloved emergency caffeine maid, how I thank yo-”, Val promptly cuts him off by punching his head into his desk.

“Call me ‘Maid’ again and I’ll make you a ghost”.

Danny just grumbles incoherently into his desk while the class goes about looking at the results.

“Oh Hell yeah! Guess who’s average is going up!”.

“Honestly I thought I did worse. Wow”.

“The bastard seriously docked me marks. Jerk”.

“You deserved it, Todd”.

“I’m honestly actually kinda proud of this. Doesn’t feel as meaningless as tests usually do”.

“High five bro!”.

“Heck yeah bro!”.

“That’s enough ‘bro’ing. Fuck”.

“Shove it, pipsqueak”.

“Is it sad that I care more about this result than my math results?”.

“Now if only uni gave a shit about this class…”.

Danny lifts his head up off his desk and rests his chin in a palm, “good for all of you”, sipping his coffee, “granted I’d got all happy go lucky if I ever got decent grades”. Val actually gives him a slightly sympathetic look at that, even if she says, “well maybe if you didn’t skip constantly”. Danny just takes another sip of his drink before standing up, “so who wants to do a blob release party in the field? Like releasing balloons into the sky”.

Maple practically skips back to her desk and actually hugs the jar her blobs in, “not mine”. Danny waves her off, “that’s perfectly fine”, standing up, swinging the staff behind his head to rest on his neck/shoulder. Wandering over to the window and just falling out of it, “see you out there!”.

James blinks, “we’re… not following him, are we”.

Valerie shrugs, “yup”, and basically jumps out of it.

“There’s a lot wrong with the two of them”.

“That’s nothing new”.

“I’m taking the stairs, this is ridiculous”.

“Well it is Danny for you”.

“I love this class”.

-

Danny just grins at everyone with their jars, nodding at them all before pointing his staff up at the sky for no real reason other than dramatics, more than a few classrooms have teens staring out at them while everyone -well almost everyone anyway, a small handful opting out- opening their jars and letting out the random blobs.

Some of the blobs just start zipping around or floating off, a couple nuzzle their particular caretakers, one or two just straight up stay and take naps on the grass. It was all kinda cute actually.

Amber crouching down on her ankles petting one of the grass sleeping blobs, “yeah I guess we kind of put you guys through the wringer, huh”. Danny chuckling, “oh yeah, for the most part, blobs do perfectly well living on their own in the wild-”.

Half the class basically speaks in unison and in time with him, “so long as there’s enough ectoplasm around”, followed by, “we know”.

Danny pouts at everyone, “well at least y’all remembered”. He has been successful at this teaching thing. Hurray. Good for him. Guess for now he’ll just enjoy the view of the healthy blob ghosts running around. Todd’s is apparently still somewhat ticked at him, taking the time to naw on his pants before fucking off. Hopefully, that one doesn’t cause problems in the future.

---

“So how was it? I saw that everyone passed”.

“Surprisingly enjoyable”.

“Really now”.

Sigh. “Fine I’ll admit it, you were right about this being a good option for me”.

“Good. So you’re up for doing this again next semester I take it”.

“At this point? No shit. Though I think my folks are going to interrogate me about my ‘usual’ and ‘forbidden’ and ‘impossible’ and ‘can’t possibly be true’ knowledge at this point, all things considered”.

Slight chuckle. “Good, it might do them some good. Their bigotry only seems to grow more concerning”.

“Heh, nice to hear it called bigotry honestly”.

“You’d be the one to say that”.

“Yeah, I guess so”.

“You know you’ve got one more thing to do now though”.

“Oh yeah? What?”.

“Get Christmas gifts from your students”.

“FUCK”.

“We also have a staff holiday party”.

“…oh I hate you so much”.

Chapter 7: Probably Utterly Unnecessary Overly Wordy Self-Imposed And Unintentional Obligatory Closing Chapter (But Christmas-Themed) Because I Knee-Jerk Hate Christmas And Will Take Any Given Opportunity To Take A Piss On The Season So In The Words Of Danny Fenton ‘Dude, I Am *Sick* Of Christmas!’… ‘I Know! (Puts Down Walker’s Arm And Grabs The Orange) How ‘Bout *This*!’

🎵All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth🎵

🎵My two front teeth🎵

🎵See my two front teeth🎵

🎵Gee, if I could only have my two front teeth🎵

🎵Then I could wish you, "Merry Christmas"🎵

…

….

…..

🎵What a bright time, it’s the right time🎵

🎵To rock the night away🎵

🎵Jingle bell time is a swell time🎵

🎵To go gliding in a one-horse sleigh 🎵

Danny’s grumbling almost aggressively and marching to class looking like he actively wanted to murder someone… slowly and violently. Repeatedly. Scowling up at the ceiling, nearly snarling at the speakers, “swell time my ass”, before basically kicking in his classroom door. Was he wearing an anti-Christmas sweater? Yes. Only because apparently teachers were ‘highly encouraged’ to show ‘holiday spirit’ with their clothing. Fuck Christmas. Fuck Christmas cheer. Goddamnit. His shirt said ‘sleigher’ -because Danny will pun regardless of how shitty or not his mood may be. And currently, it was quite shitty indeed- with a murdered reindeer. A graphically murdered reindeer. He’s pretty sure no teacher has tried to dress code him because of the fear of throat punching based off his facial expression.

Anyway…. door kicking. Ancients he wishes the stupid thing wasn’t built fucking solid o that his goddamn foot would have just smashed a nice little hole in the bottom. But hey, at least the door bangs against the wall hard enough to shake and bounce back enough that he has to kick it again to get it out of his way. And fine maybe he has to do that repeatedly. And sure maybe he just gets more violent about it. And okay he absolutely broke one of the hinges. Whatever. Fuck that door.

Valerie just sighs and shakes her head, well aware of Danny’s hatred for Christmas and well used to him turning into an angry chihuahua this time of year. Dash also rolls his eyes, even if he’s slightly intimidated. The rest of the class just looks on concerned as Danny walks over to the whiteboard, him smacking it hard enough to make the cracking spread, “alright so the next fucker who asks if I’m going to decorate this room will get stabbed and I will use your blood as the decoration to make this place look like Satan’s personal spa retreat, including something demonic-looking getting summoned into the corner to stare at you all menacingly”, glaring at a couple of people in particular, “and the next person to give me a bag of feathers as a present is spending the holidays with Boxy in a warehouse. Got it. Good. Anyways, since we don’t need no stinking stupid-ass review periods because we’re already done with that shit, what the fuck do ya wanna talk about and preferably loud enough to block out the crappy Christmas music”.

Todd blinks, “what crawled up your ass and died”. Danny snapping at him immediately, “my will to live in this god-forsaken time of year”.

🎵Who doesn’t love to sing We Wish You A Merry Christmas?🎵

Danny’s rye twitches, him half shouting towards the ajar door, “I fucking don’t!”.

🎵Good tidings we bring🎵

🎵To you and your kin🎵

🎵Good tidings for Christmas🎵

“Take those ‘tidings’ and shove them up your ass!”.

🎵And a happy New Year!🎵

Scowling and looking at the class, “y’all better start talking or I’m going to get in trouble for vandalism and destruction of school property”. Now that gets the class chuckling at him a little, making him roll his eyes somewhat fondly.

James shakes his head, “so I take it you don’t exactly like Christmas”. Valerie turning to him, “understatement. Danny hates Christmas more than the Box Ghost hates circles”.

“Well damn, that’s actually impressive”.

Danny sighs and glares at the ceiling, “and I actually hate it less than I used to”. That gets him some disbelieving staring. Whatever. Yes his hatred might be excessive but he’s a ghost goddamnit, excess is the name of the game; fuck off.

Amber purses her lips, “soooo… you don’t want presents then. Or any more anyway”. Danny sighs, “it’s fine. But make them Christmas-themed at your own peril”. The class absolutely laughs at him, not that he gives a shit. So long as no one gives him Christmas socks they can laugh all they want.

(Does basically everyone eventually give him something? Yes. Was it mostly ghost-themed/related? Also yes. Did at least one person be a complete jackass and give him something Christmas-themed? Definitely; but no one else did after he dumped ectoplasm-infused eggnog on that particular teen's head)

“Ignoring Danny’s hate boner, I vote we talk about Phantom”.

Dash grinning, “well duh!”.

Danny chuckles and shakes his head a little, “I swear this town has a mass obsession or something”, shrugging, “eh what the heck why not”. Val rolls her eyes which makes him smirk, even if his mood’s still shit. He pretty much just lets everyone chat amongst themselves; him flopping down in his chair and pretty much zoning out.

By the time class is coming to an end Danny’s got his feet up on the whiteboard ledge, Danny glancing at the clock, “whelp this has been fun”, lifting his feet off and spinning his chair around to face everyone, “guess this whole teaching thing was, like, an actually good idea. Dealing with you people wasn't terribly horrible”. He’s amazed the whole Phantom thing never got caught.

“Yeah fuck you too, teach”.

Danny grins and finger guns. Emilie getting up and tilting the door to get it open graces his ears with more fucking Christmas music though.

🎵Let’s sing Merry Christmas and a happy holiday🎵

🎵This season may we never forget the love we have for  *bell sounds*🎵

Danny snags his quill and flicks it at the speakers, shorting it out and making it smoke worryingly. Then blinking, “wait did they censor ‘jesus’? Haha nice”, smirking a little, that was probably Sam’s handiwork. Whelp anything that defaces a Christmas song is a plus in his book. Val shakes her head at him, “you going to wreck the other door hinge?”. Danny just gives her a thumbs up, gets up, and kicks the bottom hinge hard enough to bust it apart; the door falling with a thump to the ground. Danny nods, satisfied, to himself with crossed arms. Val rolls her eyes at him and gives him a friendly shove on the shoulder. Normally that would boost his mood entirely but his ghostly ears means he’s still able to hear the stupid fucking music from the other intact speakers.

Fuck this time of year.

(Though fine some of the presents he wound up getting were actually pretty neat. The ectoplasm lava lamp even impressed his folks, even if they were none too pleased about the ‘team ghost’ flag).

---

By the time the staff holiday party rolled around Danny had warned Lancer that if there was Christmas music playing the whole time or -Ancients help him- carollers, then he was going to invite Technus. Needless to say, said party did not have Christmas music.

Lancer shaking his head at Danny, “you can be quite intimidating when you want”. Danny just scowls at him, “you have never seen me legit piss off, Lance”. Even Danny knew angry Danny was a scary -and dangerous- Danny. The man simply chuckles, handing off a cup of punch to Danny. Who mutters down at it, “I could totally spike this with ectoplasm”.

“Don’t even think about it, Daniel. As it is we already had to put a cage over the noodles you brought for the pot luck”.

Danny snickers and side-eyes the writhing noddles with teeth gnawing on the bars. Unsurprisingly he was the only one willing to eat them. Frankly… they were delicious. “I like my food thank you very much”, and nods smugly. He can practically feel Millie glaring at him from across the room; she’s not exactly alone in said glaring. Not that Danny actually gives a shit.

Remi grins at him mischievously, practically slapping a reindeer headband on his head, “at least you made things more interesting, Mr. Grinch”. Danny scowls and subtly sets the antlers on fire. A couple teachers jerk away from him, but Charles laughs loudly, “you’re on fire!”. Danny smirks, “and? I happen to think it’s very friendly fire”. Remi giggles at him while Xander dumps some of the punch on Danny’s head. Rude. Understandable, but still rude.

“Whelp. Now my hair’s wet”.

“And that’s not better than being on fire?”.

Danny grins and nods smugly, “nope”.

Things go on for a while and there’s even a few shitty party games and a little dance thing which honestly just makes Danny think he’s going to die from mortification. What is it with full-blown adults and bad/embarrassing dancing? And pin the nose on the snowman? What the fuck, man. A certain purple cloaked figure distracts him from wincing over Mainers attempt at what appears to be some kind of shuffle? Eh whatever.

Danny grins at the blonde-haired man, honestly it still surprises him sometimes that his Guardian had a human form… well illusion would be more accurate. Not that that should really be surprising, considering their strength. “ClockWork”.

“Daniel”.

Lancer -who has apparently wandered back over for more punch- chokes a little, eyeballing the currently human-looking ghost. Right, he’s pretty sure he explained his Guardian to Lancer; possibly more than once actually. Lancer eyeballing Danny, “… Daniel”, with more than a little worry and warning in his voice.

Danny waves the man off, “it’s fine. ClockWork’s the last one you’d have to worry about”.

The ‘blonde’ nods, cloak moving slightly in a nonexistent wind, “indeed. Not that any would claim me harmless”.

“Nope, just legless”. ClockWork cuffs Danny one over the head for that. Danny pouting and rubbing his head, feigning injury. “Meanie”. ClockWork gives him an almost invisible fond smile.

Lancer blinks a bit harshly, “well… this is still for teachers”. Danny smirks, “and they ‘teach’ me. So there”.

ClockWork shakes their head, “I’m not here to partake, rather to remind someone that he has places to be”. Danny pouts at that, speaking incredibly sarcastically, “but I’m just hAvInG sO mUcH fUn. CaN’t YoU sEe?”, putting a hand to his chest dramatically, “BuT oH hOw NiCe Of My ClOaK bUdDy To CoMe FeTcH mE. oH hOw GrAtEfUl I aM”. ClockWork actually glares at him for that.

“Someone will come to fetch you”.

“Oh I know. But this party is just begging to be crashed”.

Lancer sighs, “for the love of Shakespeare, Daniel”. Putting on some obviously fake bravado and glaring at the ghost, “and where are you trying to take him”.

Danny sighs and sags a little, “Ancients fuck, Lance. Ghosts just so happen to have truce parties and maybe some of them get a little aggressive about me going to one”. More than a few of the other teachers are eyeballing Danny at this point.

Joshep glaring, “of course the ghosts actually like him”.

“Honestly isn’t he a little biased to be teaching about ghosts then?”.

Danny rolls his eyes, muttering, “having someone who dislikes ghosts would be what’s biased. Geez, been over this much”. Lancer claps Danny on the shoulder, avoiding ClockWork though, “for what it’s worth I agree with you, and my opinion just so happens to matter more”. Danny does smile over that, but eh, it’s probably a good idea that he skedaddles at this point.

Danny shrugs at Lancer before turning to ClockWork, “alright, cloak buddy, I’m sure Johnny’s already challenged someone to an unfair race and I’d rather a place get trashed after I’m there than before. But first…”, Danny turns around to grab up one of the Christmas oranges and lobs it through the ajar doorway. Resulting in the now more familiar than he’d like sound of Ghost Writers voice in the form of a shriek.

Lancer grimaces a little as Danny heads to the door, a few people watching awkwardly/cautiously, “I still don’t approve of you tormenting a poet with fruit”. That just makes Danny grin meanly at Lancer, then at the Ghost Writer who’s around the door and glaring at him.

Millie shouts after him, “you could at least dispose of the abomination that you call ‘food’!”. Danny shouting back, “naw! Why would I deny everyone the joy of such yummy friendly food!”, then snickering meanly to himself. Both ClockWork and Ghost Writer shake their heads at him, though ClockWork looks a lot more fond… and amused.

-

So what’s the first thing that greets Danny when he actually gets to Dora’s kingdom -which is apparently the place hosting, for his particular group anyway, this year- why it’s Skulker with a slice of pie in hand of course. Always was, probably always would be. Danny shaking his head fondly at the robotic ghost, “so what’s the flavour this year, my determined little poacher”.

“Berry and fish”.

Danny stares at him a little, “… okay yeah fuck you”, but takes the pie anyway. Like always it’s freaking delicious, but come on? Seriously? Berry and fish? Ghosts are weird, man. Not that he isn’t totally here for said weird.

It takes not even five minutes for Dora to practically skip up to him, putting a dainty hand on his shoulder lightly, “you look well, nest-mate mine”.

“You as well, Aurora”. Danny liked his nicknames, including for ghosties he actually liked. Danny smirking, putting a hand to his chest as she takes a step back, “in fact, I’m wonderfully well off. Got a group of teens to entertain most days,  then there’s the Guardian thing I’ve got going for me, oh and all these fuckers-”, jabbing a thumb towards the random crowd of ghosts, “-actually somewhat respect my human job”.

Ember scowls and snarks, “messing with a Guardian’s duties is just asking for trouble”.

“And you don’t actively want trouble? Huh, guess I misread you”. Ember flips Danny off for that. Dora, however, giggles lightly, hand over her mouth, “trouble-seeking as she maybe, there is a difference”.

Danny rolls his eyes, waving her off, “yeah yeah yeah, I know. Still fun to poke fun at everyone though”, and sticks his tongue out in Ember’s general direction; she throws a guitar pick at him, though she does look a little amused at least.

That was the nice thing about ghosts, they liked picking fights and poking fun at each other… and they liked others doing that back to them. Unlike humans, who usually got pissed off if you snapped back at them regardless of if they snapped at you first *cough cough* Dash *cough cough*.

Dora hums and nods to herself, “well you enjoy the party and may the truce for you be bless-ed, nest-mate”.

“May it be bless-ed for you as well, nest-mate”.

Dora was a nice sorta sister to have, and considering the Queen/mother fucking DRAGON thing he didn’t really have to worry about anyone picking fights with his little -even though she’s legit older than him- sister.

YoungBlood zips over and whisper laughs into Danny’s ear, “you should totally go bug that nasty Aragon about your boring adult stuff”, snicker, “he so doesn’t know”.

Danny grins wickedly, “oh Hell yeah”.

The kid -that Danny’s pretty sure he can only still see because he was absolutely still immature and because of the right to the High Throne thing- laughs and gets overexcited, “can I come! Can I come! Can I come! I’ll bring grapes”.

“Does everyone just know that I throw grapes at that bastard”.

“Yup!”.

“Fuck you, yes you can come”, smirking at the child ghost, “but make sure they’re extra squishy”. YoungBlood giving him a goofy thumbs-up before getting distracted by the sweets table.

Kitty giggles from the side at him, “here I thought teachers weren’t supposed to swear around children”.

“I resent that”, putting a hand to his chest, “why I in fact taught them to”, sticking up a finger, “in ghost speak specifically”. They had totally been taking advantage of that to get away with swearing in their other classes. Which Danny one hundred percent supports wholeheartedly. Kitty laughs at that and Danny’s going to take a guess that Johnny’s off hitting on some other girls here. Kitty speaking up again, “you know…. The flowers are kind of cute”, and giggles, leaning over to fiddle with one of the ghost pipes. Well that feels like proof to him.

Unsurprisingly Johnny comes out of nowhere, scowling at him then smirking attractively at Kitty, “come on babe, whatcha doing with him”.

She just huffs at him; Danny taking the opportunity to subtly slink away from the pair while they go about having one of their typical lovers quarrels. Danny damn near crashes into Desiree in the process through.

She scowls at him a little before shaking her head, “and that is why I absolutely do not ‘want a man’”. Danny chuckling awkwardly, “ah come on now, some of us are at least fun to mess with”. That gets a smirk out of the genie ghost, “true. Still not worth the trouble”. Danny just chooses to shrug before wandering off to the little appetiser table, Desiree’s tolerance for him was minimal at best… especially because he was a guy.

-

Danny barely gets to spend ten minutes demolishing the appetiser table before Walker is there being a pick and shoving a present at his chest unnecessarily hard. Danny letting out a little oof followed by a not so eloquent, “jerk”, in the prison wardens general direction.

The skull-faced ghost scowls at him, “I hope you are teaching those delinquents the law”. Danny rolling his eyes so hard it almost hurt, “of course, Whitey. I might be lazy and have a complete disregard for law but when I have responsibilities I actually tend to do them”, shrugging, “with the occasional shortcut”, smirking meanly at the ghost, “besides, the best ways to break the law require knowing it”, and winks. If it wasn’t the truce Danny is a-hundred-percent positive Walker would assault him right now.

Walker sneering, “you’re lucky it’s the truce, punk”, and stalking off feels like proof in Danny’s books.

Walker taking the initiative with the present giving basically results in everyone else following suit. Which of course means Danny gets pelted by boxes, which the exception of the occasional one that’s actually handed to him. They were all combative motherfuckers alright? Danny laughing probably doesn’t discourage it though.

Like always most would prove to be useless or even slightly insulting. Not that the gifts he chucks back won’t be equally offensive/pointless. He’s pretty sure his gift for Boxy is literally just a shit ton of marbles with square shapes inside them to really bug the guy. ClockWorks was a little touching though, being a gear cog accessory for his staff, and fine maybe Danny also gave ClockWork staff accessories. Like minds think in kind. Too bad FrostBite and Pandora have their own kingdoms truce celebrations to see to. Eh, he’ll visit them at some point. Besides, they all took turns hosting his group's truce celebrations. Technically he could go to those parties too but Danny’s not putting himself through three to six ‘Christmas’/‘Yule’/truce parties every year. He’s not a fucking masochist, regardless of what anyone might say.

Eventually, everyone gets all well and done with their present-based assault of each other. Dora nodding to herself and raising her chalice, “to a blessed and successful-”, everyone glancing judgingly at the Ghost Writer, “-truce!”. Danny, and more than a few others, chuckling at the Ghost Writers expense before sipping their prospective drinks. Was Danny’s the most disgusting horrid-looking concoction he could come up with based on what ingredients he had at his disposal? Abso-fucking-lutely. He even stuck in an orange wedge for the fuck of it. The smell was truly atrocious and the mild glaring that causes only makes Danny feel all the more smug. Drinking what’s effectively consumable battery acid with a devilish smirk as the party begins to draw to an end.

-

And boom bada boom, another year's festivities over. Guess the class shit’s over for another year too, so a nice little two-for-one ending there. Nice. Now to do it all over again in, like, a month. Well okay, a year for the truce crap. Oh whatever. Class starts again in January…

Eh at least Lancer had the decency to put Danny’s ecto-ology class in the afternoon again. Hopefully, that will never change. Though the fact that Danny still managed to show up late would probably cement that afternoon time slot. Ancients Danny might not show up at all out of spite if the man scheduled it any sooner. Lancer probably knew that too, the man had proven he understood waaaaaaay more than Danny ever thought/knew.

At least no one was treating him different due to the Guardian/teacher thing. Much anyways. Goes to show that Danny could probably change into infinitely stranger things and people would probably still go ‘eh that’s just Danny for you’. No one, ghost nor human, should have expected he’d become a freaking teacher (except ClockWork anyway… and the stupid fucking Observants) and yet everything went more or less fine.

But still, fuck Christmas.

And fuck the Observants for good measure.

What the heck, fuck the educational system too.

Throw in a ‘fuck his half-life’ for bonus points and to complete the nonexistent list of things to flip off before he goes to bed.

End.

[gayestnerdsinfiction]

Dinner Date

“Okay,” Jonathan grunted, leaning heavily against Edward’s side. “I’m officially getting to the point where I need to not be standing anymore.”

“Sitting would be preferable,” Edward agreed as they staggered down the street. “And we need to get out of the open.”

“In there,” Jonathan said, raising a hand to point a long finger toward a building on the corner.

Edward’s eyes gravitated toward the glowing yellow sign illuminating the parking lot. He scowled. “No.”

“It’s the closest.”

“Can’t you hold out a little longer?”

“Depends on whether or not you feel like dragging me down the street.”

He sighed, adjusting his grip on Jonathan’s waist. They had walked nearly a mile from the Ace Chemicals plant, and Edward was tired of schlepping the other man’s limp body around. “Fine,” he conceded. They turned the corner and Edward shouldered his way through the glass door of the McDonald’s.

There was a couple sitting at one table, a man sitting by himself at another, one person behind the counter. All four of them looked up when the door swung open, staring in silent dismay at the two bloodied villains who had entered the room.

Edward deposited Jonathan in one of the uncomfortable teal booths before sliding into the seat across from him. He grabbed a fistful of napkins out of the dispenser, beginning to dab at the blood dripping from his forehead and lip. “What a fucking shit show,” he muttered, leaning his head onto his hand.

“Truly,” Jonathan muttered. He had slumped over onto the table, his head lolling over on top of his folded arms. “I mean what the fuck were they thinking, shooting at us in a goddamn chemical plant? They’re lucky the whole place didn’t go up.”

Edward shrugged. “Cops are stupid.”

“Cops are stupid,” he echoed.

“I can see the headlines now,” Edward says, making a sweeping gesture with his gloved hand. “‘This bacon cooks itself! Pigs flew today when the GCPD was blown sky high in a ham-fisted attempt to apprehend two of the city’s most notorious criminals.’”

Jonathan snickered, cracking one eye to look at him. “Hope someone called a hambulance,” he said, “’cause they’re gonna need it.”

He grinned. “Ah, he’s got jokes today.”

“I think the blood loss is making me delirious.” He closed his eye again. “Am I dripping on the floor?”

Edward leaned over to peer at the floor beneath the table. Blood was indeed seeping into the leg of his pants, dribbling down his ankle and onto the brown linoleum tiles. “Yes.”

“Damn.”

He grabbed a few more napkins, arranging them on the floor to soak up the blood. “Better.”

“Is it?”

“…Kind of.”

Someone cleared their throat nearby and Edward turned to see a nervous looking young woman standing beside their table. She was wearing a uniform shirt and a nametag—Sarah.

“Excuse me,” she began, her customer service voice only sort of masking the apprehension in her tone, “but we have a strict ‘no loitering’ policy and, uh, well, you have to…” Sarah trailed off when met with Edward’s stony glare. She swallowed hard, continuing, “You have to buy something.”

Edward felt his lip curling at the audacity of this girl to even speak to them, let alone bother them about loitering. “Do you have any idea—” he began, fully prepared to go on a manic tirade.

Jonathan interrupted before he could really get his rant going, mumbling “Chicken sandwich.”

Edward looked at him incredulously. “What?”

“Chicken. Sandwich. Cheapest one.”

“How can you eat at a time like this?”

“Do you want anything or not?”

He stared at Jonathan for a few moments before huffing out a sigh and slumping down in his seat. “Small fry,” he grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

Sarah lingered next to the table. “Um. I need you to… pay.”

Jonathan reached into his pocket and produced a handful of bloodstained bills, dropping them in a crumpled heap on the table. “Keep the change.”

She retrieved the money, holding it gingerly as she scurried back to the counter.

“You  gave her, like, eighty dollars,” Edward said once she was out of earshot.

“Didn’t feel like counting it.”

“Why would you even bring that much cash to a heist?”

“I always carry cash,” Jonathan muttered. “For drugs and cigarettes.”

“Of course. For drugs and cigarettes.” He looked around the room. The couple were sneaking looks at them from across the aisle, and they both quickly busied themselves with their food when his gaze moved toward them. The man sitting by himself didn’t appear particularly interested in their presence. “Have you ever been to a McDonalds before?”

He shrugged. “Couple times. You?”

“My dad used to take me when I was a kid.” He wrinkled his nose. “But anything I ate always made me sick.”

“Why’d he keep taking you?”

“There was one across the street from the bar he liked.”

“Hm.”

Edward stared down at the tabletop, remembering the countless hours he spent nursing an order of chicken nuggets while he waited for his father to be sufficiently liquored up to tolerate him for the rest of the evening. “Fries are alright though,” he admitted, picking at the edge of a napkin. “Easy on the stomach.”

“Mm.”

“Are you still conscious?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Keep it that way.”

Sarah returned, setting their food down in front of them. “Anything else I can help you with today?” she asked hesitantly, beginning to back away before she had even finished her sentence.

“You can make sure no one else bothers us while we’re here,” Edward said, giving her a pointed look. She didn’t seem to know what to make of that, but she nodded curtly and disappeared off into the kitchen. Edward turned back to see Jonathan opening a small cardboard box that contained his sandwich. “God, that looks awful.”

“Don’t look then,” he said, taking a bite.

“The things you put your stomach through…” He grimaced, watching Jonathan continue to eat the reconstituted chicken patty that had been fried and slapped between two dry buns. “Remind me to stay far away from your asshole tonight.”

“And to think I was expecting to get lucky after this date,” Jonathan said dryly. “Oh well. Maybe next time.”

“This is not a date.”

“We’re eating dinner together. In public,” he added, as if that explained everything.

“Fast food after a botched heist is not a date in the universe I choose to live in. If anything, the heist was more of a date than this.”

“Well, I live in the universe where we’re dating so any time I spend with you outside of my home is a date.”

Edward couldn’t help but smile a little when Jonathan said they were dating. It was so unlike him, referencing their relationship like that. “I think you should join me in my universe. It’s a lot classier.”

Jonathan scoffed. “Right, like a night out on the town stealing chemicals is so classy.”

“Oh, shut up.”

[sorcererinthestars]

You’ve Got a Fast Car...

I’m back, bitches~~ But seriously, felt great to write again for the @rtwritingcommunity​‘s secret sunshine event! I will tag my recipient if/when I get their a-ok!

Summary: (FAHC) Michael doesn't expect a man to throw himself in front of his car and beg him to stop. This is Los Santos. Picking up hitchhikers is generally frowned upon. But this man has a pretty face and hell - he's got a fast car. What's he got to lose?

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32969470

-

Michael knew something was seriously wrong when a man throws himself out in front of his car.

Now, his car was nothing nice, but he still doesn't want to spend the next few hours getting some fucking asshole's blood off of his front bumper. So naturally he slams on the brakes as the man - a skinny, dirty thing with wild hair - does a legitimate fucking slide across the hood of his shit Honda Civic and nearly collapses on the other side. "Oi!"

"Get out of the damn road, idiot!" Michael yells out the window in a reply, flicking him off to boot. It was late, almost 2am at this point, and he really had anything better to do than scream at some (probably high) dickbag who decided to do calisthenics in the goddamn street. But the man doesn't run away ashamed, as Michael had expected. Instead, he frantically pokes at his phone - still in the middle of the street - and Michael sits there, a bit flabbergasted.

He doesn't move.

He still doesn't move when Michael lays his entire weight on the horn, sending a blast of sound into the Los Santos night. It's not as loud or annoying as he may have wanted - LS is always loud as fuck on a Saturday evening - but it does have the intended effect of nearly making the idiot in front of his car in the middle of the street jump half out of his skin.

"SHHH!" the man gasps, comically putting his finger over his lip like he was in a cartoon and making an over-exaggerated shushing motion. Michael has to blink. He's shushing him? While standing in front of his car? Before he can say anything or shake off the disbelief that this shit had to happen to him tonight - he had to get home and clean off before his next shift at the pizza place he had reluctantly taken a job at - the man (still crazy-eyed and wild-haired) runs up to his window. At this moment, Michael really wishes he had invested in a knife, or a Tazer, or something. People had warned him about LS, but he didn't listen. He should probably learn to do that, someday.

"Listen, man," the guy says (see?) and leans forward, a massive grin on his face. He has some pretty high cheekbones. Michael blinks. "Dude, can you please just move or I'm gonna run you the fuck down."

"No, no, no, listen," the man says again, waving his hands about. "Do me a favor, will ya? If you drive me to this address -" he holds his phone up and shows an address on the outskirts of the city - "I'll give you $1,000. Right here, right now, no questions." Michael blinks and then snorts. Yeah fucking right. "I'm not an Uber."

The man shifts on both his feet, looking agitated, and glances over his shoulder. There sounds like there's some sort of commotion coming down the street and he really has to move. So Michael leans on the horn again, blasting another honk into the LS skyline.

This has the unintended effect of making the man lean further over the hood of his car, as if he could hide. Remember. This was in the middle of the goddamn street.

"Dude!"

"I'm not kidding!" the wild-eyed man says frantically. "$1500. Deposited directly into your account. I'm serious, kill me and my crew if I lie."

That was no turn of phrase Michael had ever heard, but the money does make him pause. He's... short on funds right now. Well, he's always short on funds, but this time moreso than usual. $1,500 extra would be a huge boost to the amount he currently has in the bank. He'd pay rent. He wouldn't have to borrow any more from anyone else and avoid that loan shark fucker he found online.

Before he could really think about what he was saying, he finds himself tapping the passenger seat. "Fine. Get in. I swear to god, I better see that money."

And if he dies... well. Then he still wouldn't have to worry about rent, so win-win in his mind.

With a triumphant holler, the man leaps into the car and yanks up a GPS on his phone, pointing them to drive down the street. "Thanks man! I'm Gavin." -

They're not going more than five minutes when sirens start blaring behind them. The man tenses and looks backwards out the window with a frown. "Oh shit."

Michael immediately - immediately - realizes just how much he fucked up. "What do you mean, oh shit?"

"I - uh..." The unhinged man - Gavin - stutters. "Did... Did I mention that uh... the LSPD may want to arrest me?"

"May want to what?!" Michael's voice climbs so many octaves in that last word that it makes Gavin slump down in his seat, suitably chagrined. "I ... seriously, man, I - I needed a car, a way out, I promise I'll give you the money, just please for the love of god, drive the damn car."

"Pull Over," the cop car unhelpfully calls from behind them, making Michael's bowels turn to water. Gavin's even more frantically slamming keys on his phone as they approach a major intersection. Michael keeps looking behind him, unable to slow down as the cops continue to chase them. "Gavin, seriously..."

"You're with me now, man," he replies a bit frantically. "You're in it. So either we avoid them, or you're going to jail too. Sorry."

The words fall like bricks on Michael's shoulders as he realizes that what Gavin just said was true. No cop in their right mind would believe that he - a man with a few blotches on his permanent record already - would have just accepted to pick up a hitchhiker and drive him across town at 2am for $1,500 without assuming he was a criminal. No. Any sane cop would assume he was in on it.

Because the alternative was that he was a fucking lunatic, but here we are.

Gritting his teeth, a conscious shift happens somewhere in his gut. He's a survivor. He'd get the fuck out of this, one way or the other. So, without Gavin's input and in a split second decision, he takes a sharp left and rips around the corner, sending Gavin flying against the door with a shout of surprise. "HEY!"

"Gotta avoid the cops, don't we?" Michael says with a maniacal burst of laughter, the insanity that can only be best described as hysteria. "You're the navigator, idiot, get us to where we need to be!"

The nervousness - which had appeared on Gavin's face after Michael had blown up at him - evaporated as Gavin bursts into a big smile. "Hell yeah," he hums. "Let's do this."

-

After fifteen minutes, Michael had lost all his nerves. Instead, he felt like an overinflated balloon, filled with a giddy sort of lunacy that he had never felt before as they flew down abandoned Los Santos streets. He shrieked with laughter as they slipped down the runway illuminated by neon lights and flashing red and blues, which whipped around them like a rave of their own design.

The freedom was intoxicating. Michael had taken drugs before back in New Jersey, who hadn't(?), but this was a whole different sort of high. And as soon as Gavin realized that Michael was in it with him, he had turned into an erratic demon of death, urging Michael onward with the same fire that was reflected in Michael's soul.

They flew down the streets like hedonists, shrieking with laughter and happiness as Gavin shoves his head out the sunroof to flick off the cops and shout insults.

When the first gunshot cracks through the night, Michael is sobered only for a moment. In for a penny, in for a pound. He's already here, dodging the cops, so this shit may as well happen. It's like he's in a godforsaken video game but he's not. This is real life, this is his life, and maybe he's ruining it. Maybe. But what had he not ruined in his life already? For a few moments, he could feel like he was disconnected from reality, driving so fast he could swear he could fly, a - undeniably pretty - man urging him to new, foolish lengths from the seat next to them.

And so they flew. As they approached intersections and traffic lights, Michael could see - more like sense - Gavin's own particular talents. He admits he has no abilities behind the wheel, hence begging Michael to help him, but he's able to make every traffic light change from here to the safehouse, giggling like a school kid all the while, knowing he was being naughty but that just sends them into a more frenzied set of hysterics.

It tastes like the best drug, the most collective high, the freedom that comes from knowing you're one step away from death or worse but that dangle is intoxicating. Maybe ten minutes ago he hated what was happening, but all that was gone now.

It's just the car, him, and Gavin's frantic - musical - laugh.

-

Eventually - with Gavin's GPS and eventually warm hand over his - they lose the cops. Michael has no sense of time, no concept of how long they were on the roads causing havoc, fleeing and laughing and shrieking like demons.

All he knows is that he's out in the North now and the beginning shards of sun were peeking over the horizon. He's able to slow to a manageable speed and catch his breath.

Gavin's phone rings and the man answers it. Michael can't hear what he's saying past the ringing in his ears, the result of wind whipping past his face and hours of excitement. His face is red when he meets Gavin's eyes. He closes the phone and the excitement shines bright in his eyes.

For a moment, Michael's breath is taken away. Then Gavin just points. "Top of Chilliad. Get me there." His voice is hoarse from yelling, deeper than it was, and it stirs something that Michael can't explain.

"Yes, sir," he hums teasingly. In for a penny, in for a pound, like he had said before. They start the climb up the dirt road. Once or twice, Michael doesn't think his car can make it, but the tenacious Civic crawls forward as if it knows what it had done too and felt on top of the world.

They make it to the top as the sun finally breaks over the horizon completely, blanketing the world in orange and red. When Michael finally - finally- throws the car in park and looks over at him, Gavin's grinning the biggest grin Michael has ever seen.

Before he can do anything, fuelled by adrenaline and fire and the same pure joy on Gavin's face, Michael leans over and kisses him deeply, half dragging him over the stick shift.

They kiss feverishly for a few moments, the adrenaline fading, before breaking apart and chuckling sheepishly. "I - sorry, I ..."

Gavin just winks. It's knowing. "No problem, luv," he purrs. "Does it to you, doesn't it? The chase? Makes the fire in your blood run hot." He leans forward conspiratorially. "Men weren't made to walk on their knees," he hums. "Think about it." He digs in his pocket and drops a card on the passenger seat before climbing out of the door, even as Michael tries to grab his arm and yank him back. "Gav--"

"Later, beautiful," Gavin grins, seemingly more suave and sophisticated than the man he was when he first climbed into the car. Like he was grifting and Michael was his poor, unsuspecting mark. "I'll call you. You're a great driver. Check your account." He salutes and it's then when Michael can hear the thud-thud of roters. A helicopter?

Before he can say anything, climbing frantically out of the car to watch, Gavin grabs a rope ladder hanging off the bottom of a fucking cargobob and is lifted into the air, disappearing quickly out of sight like something out of a fairy tale.

And Michael is left in the remains of the sun-drenched LS morning, with a car almost empty of gas and mysteriously $1,500 richer.

Whatever had happened to him that night in Los Santos, he knows his life will never, ever be the same.

[xjoonchildx]

guilty | knj x reader | final chapter: is something burning?

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, SMUT WARNINGS APPLY in this chapter sorry i’m yelling stressed!joon, sweaty!joon, sober!joon all make an appearance

rating: 18+

word count: 7.9K

notes: okay, so i stressed a bit about this chapter.  i got really in my head over it, but i hope it ends in a way that’s satisfying to all of you guys.  i’ve heard from some of the most amazing readers about this story -- i appreciate you all so much and i’d love to hear from you about how you feel about the ending.

special love to the best beta hands down periodt amen @hobi-gif​​, the lady who inspired it all with her adorable brand of namjoon thirst @sahmfanficbts​​, and three people who mean the world to me point blank period @ladyartemesia​​ @ppersonna​​ @taetaewonderland​​

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue

*************************

There’s this thing that happens when you’re getting over a cold.

Slowly -- as your breathing returns to normal -- you can taste again.  Your head clears and your senses come back to life and you savor everything you eat like it’s the best thing you’ve ever had.  Your appetite returns.  

And all at once, you are starving.

That’s what it’s like after Namjoon touches you.

All he had to do was cup your face in one large, warm hand and it feels like your entire body has been jump-started.  Like parts of you that have been dormant for years are now awake, nerve endings exposed and aching.  Like all the tiny pieces of you that have been scattered and lost for so long are now found and fitting back together.

For the first time in a long time you remember what it feels like to want.

It’s not like you didn’t know you cared for Namjoon.  You knew it deep down in the way you took pride in providing for his needs.  You knew it in the way it made you feel to see appreciation reflected back in his dark eyes.

But you didn’t understand how much you wanted him until that night in his office.  

In those few charged moments, Namjoon made you feel more desired with his gaze than other men have with their hands.  You let down your guard and allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to touch him, to be touched by him. You let yourself embrace the fantasy of being his in every way.

And then it was over.

Whatever spell he was under was broken and whatever existed in the air between you evaporated.  The hunger in his eyes turned into remorse and you’d left his office on trembling legs, reeling from the whiplash of it all.

Today, you stare out at the window across from your desk, unable to suppress the hurt that grips your chest.  You can barely concentrate on the numbers on the sheet in front of you, mind replaying the events in that office.  

Namjoon should never have touched you.  

He should never have roused the parts of you that had been long forgotten between doctors visits and pharmacy runs.  He should never have made you feel things no other man ever has or probably ever will.

And he should have never let you believe, even for one second, that he could care for you the way you do for him.

He should have just left you alone.

*********************

No one ever tells you that when you devote your life to caring for someone else’s needs, yours end up falling by the wayside.  That who you are ends up diminished somehow, buried underneath the weight of responsibility and worry.

Jinjoo finds you sitting in the chair next to your mother’s bed, staring at one lock of hair threaded through your fingers.  You’re frowning at the split ends you’ve not had a chance to tend to, the ones you hide by keeping your hair pulled back.

She sweeps into the room, carrying a bowl of kimchi.

“It’s Saturday. The sun is shining and you should go out.  Maybe to the salon, hmm?”

You glance up just as she’s placing the food on a tray at the foot of your mother’s bed.  She smiles to soften the blow of her observation and you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed at her well-meaning meddling.  It’s nice to be fussed over for a change.

“I can’t even remember the last time I went to the salon,” you admit, eyes locking on an unsightly chip in your nail polish.  “I usually end up cutting it myself.”

“Well, that won’t do,” Jinjoo scolds, hands on hips.  “Today I want you to go out and do something just for you.  Go and get the works.  You’re far too young to be stuck in this house all the time.”

You consider her offer for a moment.  Here in the quiet of your mother’s room it’s far too easy to let your mind wander back to the encounter with Namjoon.  Far too easy to dwell on the ache that surfaces every time you remember.

“Go on, Ttal.”

You turn in the direction of your mother’s voice and find her stirring from her nap.  She places one soft hand over yours and squeezes.  “She’s right.  Go take some time away.  I’ll be fine here with Jinjoo.”

“See?” Jinjoo waves a hand to shoo you out of the chair. You stand and she immediately takes your place in the seat.  “Your mother agrees.  Now go.  And buy something pretty to wear while you’re at it.”

You look from her to your mother and see both women wearing matching expressions of encouragement.  

You decide they’re right.

So you spend the rest of your day pampering yourself and shopping and definitely not thinking about Kim Namjoon.  

You don’t think about him when you read the book he recommended to you once at the salon, you don’t think about him when you stop for a bite at his favorite Tteokbokki stand and you definitely don’t think about him when you buy a new sweater that makes you feel beautiful.

You definitely don’t think about him at all.

*****************************

NAMJOON

Kim Namjoon’s father was a pig.

A glutton of the worst kind, he hoarded money and guns and drugs and because no one ever tried to stop him.  He used and abused everything and everyone just because he could.

Namjoon hated to watch the sadistic games his father played with people.  He hated that the man seemed to direct the worst of his cruelty at the women in his life.  

Namjoon’s own sister left everything behind to escape his violence and abuse and somehow his father was even more vicious with the women he bedded and discarded at random.  He dangled things like money and security and love in front of them like bait, only to yank it all away on a whim.

That’s why Namjoon has worked so hard his entire life to prove to others -- to prove to himself -- that he’s better than the piece of shit who raised him.  

That’s why the look on your face in his office that night cut so deep.

That look pierced straight through the lust and the scotch clouding his judgement and forced him to step back and see the situation for what it was. It made him feel sick to think he might have made you feel like his help came with conditions.  That he’d done what he had expecting you to give yourself to him in return.  

He couldn’t allow you to think he’d use his money to try and buy you.  That’s something his father would have done.

And Kim Namjoon is not his fucking father.

So this morning he finds himself walking towards your desk, determined to make it right.  You don’t register his approach as you work quietly and Namjoon has a quick moment to take you in.

There’s something different about you.

Namjoon can’t put his finger on it, but when he gets close enough for you to notice his presence and you glance up at him from under those long lashes, you look changed somehow.

Rested. Radiant.

The second you register that it’s him though, the look on your face changes.  You stand up from your chair, expression shuttered, tone formal.

“Mister Kim,” you murmur.  “How can I help you this morning?”

“Please sit,” Namjoon starts quietly.  “I, uh --” He digs his nails into his palm, annoyed with the hesitation in his delivery.  Spit it out, you moron.

“-- I owe you an apology.”

Your lips part in surprise before you close your mouth, sinking slowly back into your chair.  

Namjoon rubs one hand across the back of his neck, stealing a sideways glance at Seokjin’s office door.  It remains closed and he’s glad for it.  The last thing he’d want is an audience for this embarrassing exchange.

“The other night I was --” he clears his throat awkwardly.  Loaded. Horny. Stupid.  

He eventually lands on a less damning adjective.  “-- not entirely appropriate with you.”

You blink back but keep quiet so Namjoon keeps talking.

“I shouldn’t have acted that way,” he acknowledges weakly.  “That’s not normally how I treat my employees.  And I’m sorry.”

Spots of color appear in your cheeks.

“Well as your employee, I admit it wasn’t appropriate for me to just turn up in your office without notice, either,” you reply quietly.  “I think I was just shocked by your generosity. It’s a lot of money, and I --”

“-- Don’t think anything of it,” Namjoon interjects quickly.  “You’ve saved me that amount and more with your audits.  It only made sense to repay you for your efforts.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, and Namjoon knows it immediately.  It’s not the truth -- not by a mile -- and judging by the look that passes over your face, it’s definitely not what you wanted to hear.

“Mister Kim.”

“Yes?” Namjoon replies, only to realize that you are now looking past him and that he’s not the only one answering.

He turns slowly to find Seokjin standing behind him, wearing an expression halfway between curiosity and scrutiny.  Namjoon’s nails dig back into his palms, leaving tiny indents in the skin.

“Good morning,” you continue, turning your attention fully to Seokjin.  Seokjin looks between you and Namjoon before answering.

“Good morning to you, too,” he says slowly.

“If you’re ready to go over the new audits, I have more information to cover with you,” you say, pointing at the papers riddled with notes on your desk.  Namjoon stands there like an idiot, watching the two of you interact like he’s not even there.

“Sure,” Seokjin agrees, eyes darting back to Namjoon.  “Let’s go ahead and get into the numbers.”

“Great,” you say with a smile, standing to organize your papers into a folder.  

You look back at Namjoon like he’s an afterthought and the realization stings.  “If that was all you needed, I’ve got some work to handle now.”

The nails in his palm are this close to drawing blood.  

He cuts his eyes at Seokjin who immediately looks away.

“Certainly,” he says under his breath.  “Let me not keep you.”

You turn your back on him to head into Seokjin’s office.

***********************

Namjoon stares out at the setting sun from his office window.

He’s spent the last few days hiding out in here, avoiding everything and everyone.  Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin -- his phone keeps lighting up with calls he won’t answer.  His already black mood darkens every time his mind replays the seemingly endless string of disastrous exchanges with you.

He still can’t figure out how he’s managed to fuck things up so royally.

He still can’t figure out why he didn’t just tell you the truth about the money and about Jinjoo. He should have just admitted outright that for once he wanted to be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.  He should have just admitted that you mean something to him.

That’s the real reason why things are so screwed up right now.

It would be so simple if this was just about sex.  It would be so simple if Namjoon could just get you into bed and get you out of his system.  But you’re not Mina or Yejin or any of the others.  

You’re not like any woman he’s ever known.

Namjoon leans back into his chair just as his cell phone lights again and he grabs it just long enough to reject the call before tossing it back onto his desk.  He rubs his fingers across his mouth and watches the sun fall behind the nearby skyscrapers.

You deserve so much more than he is capable of giving you.

You deserve happiness and security and certainty.  What you don’t deserve is to be toyed with by a man who doesn’t know what his future looks like.  A man who’s still so damaged by his own upbringing that he worries he’ll never be capable of being a decent husband and father.

Truthfully, Namjoon doesn’t know which scenario scares him more.  

The one where he tries -- and fails -- to give you the things you need, or the one where he drifts through the rest of his life anchored to no one and nothing.

The sound of an incoming text interrupts his maudlin thoughts.

Namjoon reaches for his phone and sighs as he reads the waiting message.

reservations at doore yoo, 8 PM [ 6:32 PM ]

join me [ 6:32 PM ]

it’s been too long [ 6:33 PM ]

***********************

“Mister Kim.”

The Maitre’d at Doore Yoo bows in Namjoon’s direction, flashing a wide smile. “A pleasure to have you back.”

“Thank you Sungho,” Namjoon murmurs, scanning the crowded dining room.  “Is she waiting for me?”

“She is,” Sungho confirms.

Namjoon follows him past the tables packed with patrons to the exclusive dining area hidden away in the back.  This is his regular table, inside his regular private room -- but when Sungho slides the door open, Namjoon stops short and nearly tells the man he’s made a mistake.

The young woman waiting for him inside is unrecognizable.

From the back, Namjoon can see that her dark hair has been swept into a careful updo, shoulders and skin bared in a delicate spaghetti-strap top.  But that can’t be right.

Because she would never --

“Jaegyueo.”

Namjoon’s sister lifts her chin and smiles as he steps around the table.  

He catches himself staring, momentarily thrown by the sight in front of him.  It’s the first time in his life he can recall seeing his sister wearing something that doesn’t cover the jagged scar that crosses her collarbone.  The scar that she’s spent a lifetime hiding, ashamed of the way it made her look and feel.  At once, the realization hits him -- the hundreds of different ways she’s changed, big and small since falling in love with Hoseok.  

Every last one of them for the better.

“Amsaja, you look -- ” Namjoon pauses to brush a kiss across her cheek, “ -- wonderful.”

She flushes.

“Thank you. Now sit,” she orders kindly, reaching for her wine glass.  “For a minute there I thought you might not show.”

Namjoon exhales, sinking into his seat.  

“For a minute there, I almost didn’t,” he admits.  “It’s been a shitty week.”

His sister says nothing, smiling like a sphinx as a server appears to offer Namjoon his own drink.  

“Club soda on ice,” Namjoon orders quietly.  “Thanks.”

Her poker face slips then, one eyebrow lifting in surprise at seeing him forgo his usual scotch.  She sips her wine thoughtfully before speaking.

“Talk to me, Namjoon.”

“There’s little to talk about,” he deflects irritably, staring past her to the art on the walls.  

“Hoseok says you’ve barely left your office.  Won’t take his calls.”

Namjoon grits his teeth, hackles raising immediately.

“Tell Hoseok he should work on his pillow talk,” he says sharply, and the second the words leave his mouth he regrets them.  Namjoon sees the change in his sister’s demeanor, watches her eyes sharpen from across the table.  

“Forgive me,” he apologizes quickly.  “That was uncalled for.  I’m fucking things up left and right these days, it seems.”

His sister stares back at him.  Namjoon knows that face, knows she’s now opted to abandon her charm offensive for a more direct approach.  He knows it’s exactly what he deserves for being an asshole.

“That’s my understanding, yes,” she says tightly.  “As smart as you are, you seem to be doing some very stupid shit lately.”

Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, cheeks warming at her rebuke.

“You’re right,” he admits.  “But I’m going to need you to be more specific about which stupid shit you want to talk about tonight.”

“Don’t be dense,” his sister scolds.  “Clearly, you’re tied up in knots over your assistant.  Oh, I’m sorry -- I mean former assistant.”

Namjoon’s defeated sigh hangs in the air for a moment.

“Is that what Hoseok says?”

“That’s what everyone says,” his sister fires back.  “You think you’re such a mystery but I assure you, you’re actually quite transparent.  Sending her away to work for Seokjin? Hiring a private nurse?  Good grief, Namjoon.  Real subtle.”

Shit, he wishes he had a scotch right now.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to explain to me why you’re playing this stupid game of push and pull with this woman.  If you care about her, do something about it instead of lashing out at everyone around you because you’re angry with yourself.”

“She’s not --” Namjoon falters as he searches for a proper explanation, “-- she has a complicated life right now.  I’m just trying to help her the only way I know how.”

His sister leans back in her chair, wine glass tipped in his direction.

“You know what I think?  I think you like her too much and I think that’s freaking you out.  And I think you’re going to miss out on a good thing because you won’t get your head out of your ass.”

Namjoon stares back at his sister.

“I think you might be right,” he concedes, after a heavy silence.  

“Namjoon, I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” his sister says quietly.  “Whatever you’re feeling, she’s feeling it too.”

He knows that’s true. It’s been damned near impossible not to feel the charged air between you, impossible not to share passing looks and fleeting touches while working in such close quarters.  When he looks at you he knows instinctively that you feel the same pull.  It’s only made his precarious position that much harder.

“I just --” he shakes his head as he tries to justify his inaction, “-- I have no idea what I’m offering her.  I don’t know what I’m capable of giving her.  Beyond money, of course.”

His sister laughs.  

Namjoon waits for her to collect herself, ears warm with embarrassment.  He resists the childish impulse to kick her under the table.

“Is that funny to you?”

“Hilarious, actually,” she teases.  “You have no idea what you have to offer her?  You’re one of the most powerful men in this city, Namjoon.  There’s nothing you couldn’t offer her.”

The server arrives with dumplings and sets them in the middle of the table, and his sister reaches for one.

“If she’s this important to you, I know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for her,” she continues.  “Stop overthinking this. You’re a good man.  Everything else is icing on the cake.”

“I haven’t acted like a good man lately,” he confesses, shaking his head.  “She came to my office a few nights ago and I acted like a drunk, groping asshole.  Like father, like son.”

His sister sets her wine glass down, hard.

“You’re nothing like our father, Namjoon,” she says, eyes flashing with anger.  “Quit telling yourself you don’t deserve happiness out of some misguided, misplaced guilt.  And whatever happened in that office can be fixed.  If you want to fix it.”

Namjoon watches the bubbles in his club soda surface and break.  He does want to fix it.  He wants to figure out a way to stop fucking everything up where you’re concerned.

“I do,” he admits.

“Have you apologized?”

“Awkwardly. Not sure that it helped my case.”

“Then I think you need to offer her the one thing that’s more valuable than your money, Jaegyueo.”

Namjoon lifts an eyebrow at his sister.

“What’s that?”

She plucks a dumpling off the plate with her chopsticks and points it at him.

“Give her your time.”

****************************

YOU

It’s freezing tonight.

You wrap your arms around yourself and brace against the biting wind as you approach your family home.  You’re dead on your feet, worn after a long day at the office -- and for the thousandth time since her arrival you silently give thanks for Jinjoo.  

Knowing your mother is taken care of while you’re gone and coming back to a clean home and warm meals has eased your burdens immeasurably.  

Of course, it’s all really thanks to Kim Namjoon -- but that’s something you’re not allowing your mind to dwell on right now.  You’ve worked hard over the past few days to push any thought of that man back to the furthest recesses of your mind.  

You’re peeling out of your scarf and coat in the foyer when a laugh echoes down the long hallway.  It’s the sound of your mother’s laugh -- clear in a way you haven’t heard in a very long time -- and it’s definitely not coming from her room.

“Eomma?” you call out as you walk towards the sound.  A peal of Jinjoo’s laughter rings out next and you smile, following it.

You round the corner to the living room and your mouth drops open when you spot your mother, fully dressed for the first time in ages, sitting on the formal couch.  Jinjoo is seated next to her, both women smiling and laughing at --

Oh God.

Namjoon stands from his seat on the opposite couch when your eyes meet his.  His cheeks are pinked from the cold, hair tousled from the wind, and he looks so handsome that for a moment you forget how to think.  

“Welcome home,” he says, dimples emerging from his slow, careful smile.

You stare back at him, rooted to the spot.  Your face warms when you realize that every single eye in the room is trained on you, awaiting your next move.

“Do you -- ” Namjoon clears his throat, “ -- do you think I could have a minute of your time?”

“What are you doing here?” you say, blowing right past his question.

Jinjoo makes a disapproving sound under her breath.

“Ttal,” your mother interjects with a tone that borders very close to warning, “Mister Kim came by to talk to you.  He kept the two of us company until you came home.”

You turn to look at her and -- is she wearing lipstick?

“Yes,” Namjoon adds quickly, turning the warmth of his smile back to your mother and Jinjoo. “And they’ve been wonderful company. Thank you, ladies.”

The two of them titter like schoolgirls enjoying the attention of the most popular boy in school while you just stare.

And stare.

“Ttal?”

Your mother’s voice breaks through your mental fog.  You look back at her and Jinjoo and both women appear to be holding their breath, awaiting your response.  Jinjoo’s eyes are pleading when they meet yours, silently begging you to play nice.

You turn back to Namjoon slowly.

“One minute.”

“Great,” he breathes, shoving a hand through his hair.

“Not here.”

The words come out more sharply than you’d intended and your mother’s eyes go wide. Jinjoo sighs.

“What I mean to say,” you start again, delivery clumsy, “Is that we should probably step outside.”

“Of course,” Namjoon agrees.

You will your leaden legs and feet to cooperate as you turn to leave, grabbing your coat from the foyer closet on the way.  You slip it on and lead Namjoon out to the front porch, immediately wincing at the bitter cold that greets you.  

The door clicks shut and you burrow deep into your coat, turning to face him.  You force yourself to ignore the warmth that blossoms in your chest when his mouth curves into a soft smile.

“Your mother seems to be doing well tonight,” Namjoon notes. “I’m glad to see it.”

It’s not fair.  It’s not fair that he can just show up here on a whim -- looking like that, talking like that.  

Charming everyone in his path.  

“Namjoon, I’m going to ask again.  What are you doing here?”

The smile on his face falls and he looks skyward, exhaling a puff of steam into the cold night air.

”I’m here to come clean,” he confesses quietly.  “Thought I might do this new thing where I try not to act like an idiot around you.”

“Oh,” you breathe, stomach fluttering wildly in response.

A lock of his hair falls over his eye when he looks back down and you smother the urge to brush it back, hands balling into fists in your pockets.

“Thought I might do this new thing where I just tell you the truth.”

You’ve tried so hard these past few days to be angry with him, to use your hurt feelings like a wall around your heart.  But you can’t anymore.  He looks down at you with those huge, dark eyes and your grudge falls apart.

“I care about you,” he admits.  “I’ve been stumbling over my own feet for weeks because I didn’t know how to approach you about it. And then that night in the office,” he trails off, looking pained.  “That is not how I intended to treat you.”

A gust of wind blows through and you curl into yourself, teeth chattering.  Namjoon pulls off his coat and drapes it over your shoulders.  

“Please don’t,” you protest weakly.  “You’ll freeze.”

“I won’t,” he promises, stepping closer.  

You wrap the wool tight around your body, enjoying the way his lingering heat and scent wrap around you at the same time.  Your heart is beating so wildly you can hear your pulse in your ears.

“Namjoon,” you whisper. “You must know I feel the same way.”

He reaches one hand up to stroke his fingers across your cheek.

“I was really hoping you’d say that.”

He’s so close now that all it would take is the slightest tip of your chin, the most incremental change in angle to press your mouth to his. But he doesn’t close the small distance between you.  His gaze shifts to the street and you follow it, only now realizing a black sedan has been idling outside your house this entire time.  

Your cheeks flame hot at the thought of his driver witnessing this exchange.

“I want a chance to do this the right way,” he murmurs.  “Can I have it?”

You nod, waiting for your mouth to catch up to your brain.  “Of course.”

He smiles wide then, the kind of smile you haven’t seen on him in a long time and once again you’re struck by how handsome he is.  He narrows his eyes playfully when he realizes you are staring.

“Let’s get you inside before you get sick.”

You nod, pulling off his coat and watching as he shrugs back into it. He grabs for your hand, fingers brushing against yours just as you reach for the door.

“Good night, Namjoon,” you say softly.  

He squeezes your cold fingers with his.

“Good night.”

***************************

Namjoon sends his driver for you.

You shift uncomfortably in the backseat of the sleek car, avoiding Chun’s gaze in the reflection of the rearview mirror.  Up until now, you knew him only as the voice on the other end of the line when you’d arranged for Namjoon’s rides.

Now you’re matching a face with a voice -- and so is he.

You try not to dwell on how this must look after the scene outside your home just a few nights ago.  Especially now that he’s been tasked with taking you to Namjoon’s penthouse.

It’s embarrassing, certainly -- but even this pales in comparison to what you’d had to endure before leaving the house.  

When your mother had asked you to come see her and casually inquired about the last time you’d shaved your legs.  When Jinjoo had made a point of letting you know that she was planning on staying all night long just as you were walking out the door.

That was definitely the most embarrassing part.

That’s why you feel a knot in your stomach as the security guard in Namjoon’s building escorts you personally up to the very top floor -- the one accessible only by keycard.  That’s why you find yourself holding your breath right until the very moment Namjoon opens the door.

Then you let go of that breath.

“Thank you, Jaejin,” he greets, bowing in the man’s direction.  He turns his attention to you and the knot in your stomach explodes into butterflies.

“Thanks for coming,” he says with a careful smile.  

As if you had any choice in the matter.  You kick your brain into gear and remind yourself to stop staring and smile back as the door shuts behind you.  

He takes your coat and you take him in.

It’s the most casual you’ve ever seen him look, barefoot in jeans and a button-down shirt rolled to the elbows.  He looks fresh from a shower, skin glistening and golden.  The scent of him --- clean and male and intoxicating -- wafts over you.

Followed by a far less enticing one.

“Namjoon,” your nose wrinkles at the acrid smell,  “Is something burning?”

“Something was burning,” he admits sheepishly. “But it’s not anymore.  And you -- “ he pauses to let his gaze rake over you, “ -- you look incredible.”

Heat creeps up your neck and into your face, making you feel just a touch too warm in your brand new sweater.  

“Thank you,” you reply, accepting his compliment with a shy smile. “So do you.”

He looks at you for a long moment, and you clear your throat, feeling uncomfortable with the admiration in his eyes.

“Can I offer you a glass of wine?”

“Yes, please,” you breathe the words through a nervous laugh. “That sounds great, actually.”  You hope it’s not obvious that you’re jumping at the chance to take the edge off of your jitters.

Namjoon leaves you standing in his grand living room as he heads to the kitchen to pour the wine.  You’ve always known he was a wealthy man -- but knowing that in the abstract and seeing it firsthand are two different things entirely.  You take in the massive wall-to-wall windows and gleaming marble floors and custom-made art pieces with silent awe.

Namjoon interrupts your gawking when he returns with your wine.

“So about dinner,” he starts with a chuckle. “It’s on the way.  I attempted to cook something, but as you already know that didn’t quite work out.  Not surprising, seeing as I’ve never cooked in this kitchen before.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise.  “Never?”

“Never,” he says with a smile.  “I’ve never brought anyone to this apartment, either.”

His smile vanishes then, a more serious look taking its place.  You swallow thickly as you let the implication of that statement wash over you.

“No one?”

“No one,” he confirms quietly.

Your lips part with surprise and Namjoon looks away, like he’s admitted too much -- and you stand there spinning your wheels, searching for something to say.

The sound of the door chime is a well-timed and welcome interruption.

Namjoon heads to the door to accept the food and you realize the same security guard who escorted you up here is making the delivery.  It makes sense, of course, that only a trusted few could get this close to Namjoon’s private space.

“Are you expecting more people?” you tease with a smile when the guard wheels in a cart weighted down with enough food to feed an army.  

Relief washes over you when Namjoon smiles back. The strange moment that passed between you before is forgotten.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got one of everything.”

Pleasant smells emanating from the carefully-packed containers fill the apartment, pushing away the burnt one still lingering from the food that’s been relegated to the trash.

“Just so you know,” you laugh, “I like all of it.”  

****************************

The centerpiece of Namjoon’s outrageously opulent great room is the fireplace.  

Your fingers wrap tight around the stem of your wine glass as you stare into the flames and contemplate how this night will end.

You know how you want it to end.  

You know the dozens of debauched fantasies you’ve entertained about Namjoon -- the myriad ways he’s had you in your mind.  But there’s no way for you to know what his intentions are, how he expects this night to end.

That’s why you’re strung tight as a bow as you hear him clearing plates and cleaning up in the kitchen.  The sounds eventually slow and then stop.  And you wait.

You don’t hear him approach.  

You come out of your thoughts and look away from the flames and he’s just there, standing in front of the couch wearing an expression you can’t read.  The wine starts to wobble inside your glass, set in motion by your unsteady hands.

“Here,” he says quietly, reaching for it. “Let me.”

He takes the glass and places it on the coffee table, sinking into the space next to you.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs.  “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

He leans in and reaches out to thread his hands into your hair.

“Namjoon,” you whisper weakly, pulse leaping in response.  

His eyes seem to darken at the sound of his name. His fingers slip out of your hair and under your jaw, tipping your chin up and compelling you to meet his gaze.  

“I told you I was going to do this the right way,” he murmurs, “And I meant it.  After that night in my office, I promised myself I was never going to put you in that position again.”

Your tongue slips out to wet your lips involuntarily, as if the action could take the place of the words you want so badly to say.  

But Namjoon makes no move, fingers firm under your jaw.

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxes gently. “If you want this -- if you want me, tell me.”

“Kiss me.”

The words come out in a rush, laced with such desperation they sound like a plea, not an order.  A smile tugs the corner of Namjoon’s mouth and he nods.

Carefully, deliberately, he sinks his mouth onto yours.

You sigh against the press of his lips as the pads of his fingers stroke the side of your face.  For a moment you can’t think; can’t process a thing beyond the spice on his tongue from the Buldak or how impossibly soft his lips feel against yours.  

He kisses you until you can’t breathe -- and just a moment beyond that -- until you are forced to pull away, chest heaving.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he admits, panting.

“I’ve been wanting you to do that since we were kids,” you confess, emboldened.

He leans close again, eyes half-lidded, lips grazing yours.

“Well, we’re not kids anymore.”

*********************

NAMJOON

Namjoon has to force himself not to totally fucking devour you.

You are finally in his hands and the urge to unleash months of wait and want on you is so strong he has to take a physical step back.

You look up at him from where you sit on his bed -- hair mussed from his fingers, lips swollen from his kisses -- and he hesitates, unsure of his next move.

“If you’re thinking you don’t want to -- “ you start.  

Namjoon cuts you off with a strangled laugh.

“Trust me, that’s not what I’m thinking,” he vows, shoving a hand through his hair.  “It’s like I’ve wanted you so bad for so long I don’t even know where to start.”

Your eyes soften as you gaze at him.

Namjoon holds his breath as he watches you slip out of your sweater and then out of your jeans.  You lie back against his sheets, eyes holding steady contact with his.

“Start anywhere,” you breathe quietly.  “Start everywhere.  Just start.  Please.”

Fuck, you are going to be his undoing.

It takes him an irritatingly long time to work the buttons of his shirt open on account of his thick, clumsy fingers.  He finally manages to get out of it and his jeans follow right behind.

“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” you murmur as he slides into the bed next to you.  His fingers rake over the soft skin of your stomach and you jerk under his fingertips, body reacting immediately to his touch. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

Namjoon smiles when you use his own words against him.  

He dips his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply -- savoring the soft, sweet smell of your skin.  He mouths at your pulse point, feeling it race in response when his fingers trail lower to tease the delicate band of your panties.

“I figured out where I want to start,” he murmurs, sucking gently at the hollow of your collarbone.  

He feels your deep intake of breath when he slips one hand into the satin, grazing against your mound.  He shifts lower, allowing one finger to dip into your center, groaning at the wetness he finds waiting for him there.

“So responsive, Jagiya,” he praises softly.  “So beautiful.”

You make a needy sound, hips lifting off the bed as you chase the pressure of his fingers.  He turns to capture your lips again with his own, simultaneously working two fingers into the tight space between your thighs.

“Namjoon,” you sigh brokenly, “F-feels so good.”

“I can do better,” he promises.  “Turn over for me.”

He waits for you to comply, body shifting in the bed.  Once you are face down, he climbs over you, dipping his mouth to the shell of your ear, biting gently on the soft skin.  You shiver underneath him, moaning softly.

Slowly, he kisses a line down the back of your neck, hands stopping just long enough to undo the clasp to your bra.  He slips it off of you, reaching under you to tease at your nipples with his fingertips.  He chuckles low with satisfaction when you twitch under his fingertips.

He continues his descent, dropping kisses along the soft line of your back.  His hands reach your panties and he pulls them off, mouth sucking gently at the base of your spine.

“Namjoon,” you gasp, the sound of your plea is muffled as you press your face into the sheets. “Touch me.”

He sinks one long finger into you then, savoring the tight pull of your heat as his tongue flicks out to taste you.  Your hips jerk off the bed and he uses both strong hands to urge your legs further apart.

“Relax for me,” he soothes, mouth closing over your wet center.  

He pushes a second finger into you and you shudder at the fullness, back arching.  The movement angles your cunt even closer and Namjoon seizes the opportunity, tongue firm as he swipes it against you.

He can tell how badly you want this.  He can feel it in the way your thighs tremble while he’s working you with his fingers and tongue.  He can hear it in the way you whimper when he nips gently at you with his teeth.

“Namjoon,” the tilt to your voice makes it sound like you are on the verge of tears.  “Please -- I c-can’t -- ”  Your thought evaporates into thin air when he groans directly into your center, curling his fingers deep against the spot inside of you that draws a sharp gasp.

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs his encouragement as you buck against his grip.  “Come for me, Jagiya.”

He looks up just long enough to see your fingers twisted into the sheets, face buried deep into the pillow as you fall apart in his hands.  You make the prettiest sounds as you succumb.  Somewhere in the midst of your frantic whispering he hears his name and the sound goes straight to his cock, making the ache there almost impossible to ignore.  

He ignores it anyway -- pushing the feeling aside to ride out the tremors with you, relishing the taste of your release on his tongue.  He praises you, savors you, keeps you anchored to his mouth until your hips drop flush to the bed with exhaustion.

Then he kisses his way back up the line of your spine, dropping down at your side.  You look so deliciously sated and flushed when you turn over that Namjoon can’t help the slow smile that comes over him.

You kiss it right off.

You fit your body against his -- slick skin against slick skin -- and kiss Namjoon so hard it takes him by surprise.  Your hands dive into his hair, mouth desperate against his.

Namjoon chuckles under his breath at your newfound boldness, fingers reaching to tease at one pebbled nipple.  Your body jolts in response and you answer with a move of your own, one hand sliding across the hard plane of his stomach and into his boxers.  

Up until this very moment, he’s been able to ignore the insistent throbbing between his own legs.  But the moment your fingers wrap around him -- the moment you start to pump your hand gently over him -- it becomes his only thought.

“Shit,” he groans, breaking the kiss to inhale deeply,  “God, that feels good.”

You pull away to maneuver your body over his.  

Namjoon watches through hooded eyes as you pull his boxers down his legs and then turn your attention to his straining cock.  He takes his bottom lip between his teeth to contain the noise he makes when your mouth descends onto him.

The moments that follow are a test of the last shreds of Namjoon’s self-control.  

The wet warmth of your mouth surrounds him, tongue teasing at the sensitive places that make his hips jerk and his mouth drop open in surrender.  Your grip around his cock stays firm, mouth soft in contrast -- both sensations almost too much to bear at once.

He slips a hand in your hair to push back the strands that have fallen into your face and you release him with a pop, lips wet and swollen, eyes glassy and wide.  

He nearly comes right then and there.

“No more,” he croaks, voice hoarse with arousal.  “That’s all I can take.”

The smile you return is nothing short of victorious.  Namjoon rolls you onto your back in one fluid motion, more than ready to retake his position of control. �� Your eyes are sparkling with laughter and he grins back.

“You like seeing me at your mercy, huh?” he teases, dropping kisses into the crook of your neck.  

“I do,” you admit, shuddering when he slips one hand back down to the apex of your thighs.  “It’s nice to be the one in charge for a change.”

Namjoon kisses you slowly then, taking himself in hand to slide the head of his stiff cock against the wetness spilling from your entrance.  He pulls up on his arms and looks down at you just to appreciate the way you look right now, hair splayed across his pillow and skin luminous against his sheets.  

“You’ve always been in charge, Jagiya,” he breathes, enjoying the way your cheeks pink in response.  “Just like you’re in charge right now. So tell me what you want.”

The humor disappears from your eyes then, replaced by something heady and dark.  

Namjoon sucks in a breath when your hand wraps back around his cock, guiding him back to your entrance.  He throbs with need under your fingertips, muscles locked tight with anticipation.

“This -- ” you murmur, tilting your hips up to take him in, “ -- is what I want.”  

Namjoon sinks down carefully then, slowly -- choking back a moan at the unbearably tight grip of your walls.  You gasp, nails digging into his back as he strokes to the hilt.  

“This is what you want?” he goads, feeling powerful now, drunk on the sight of you writhing beneath him. He pulls back and surges forward again, drawing a desperate moan from you.  “Like this?”

You wrap your legs around him, hands sliding down the slick skin of his back until your fingers are gripping his ass, urging him to move faster.

“Yes,” you manage on a shaky breath.  “Like that.  Over and over and over.”

Namjoon buries his smile against your breasts, tonguing at your nipples as his hips piston against you.  He nips at one with his teeth and you whine, back arching off the bed.  

“You’re made for me,” he groans, panting his praise in between deep strokes, “So tight and wet I can’t think.”

You hum your contentment into his mouth when you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close for a kiss.  He slips one hand under your ass, dragging you deeper into his heavy strokes and you cry out.  

He’s always hated the echo in this place.  But hearing the sound of your voice calling his name echoing off the walls is an entirely different story.  It lights a fire inside of him -- making him move faster, harder -- desperate to hear it again.

“Namjoon -- “ your hands claw at his back as you cling to him.  “ -- I think, I think I’m going -- “

“You will,” he rasps, when you lose all hope of finishing that thought.

He sinks his thumb into his mouth before dragging it down to rub slow circles across your aching clit and you clamp down around him in response.  He chokes on his own moan, summoning just enough control to keep himself from exploding inside of you.

But then you start to unravel.

In those final moments, you feel hotter and wetter -- begging brokenly in his ear for some kind of relief.  Namjoon holds off until the tight grip of your cunt starts to pulse around him and then he gives in.  He comes so hard his vision darkens before it comes back.  

Then he collapses on top of you, panting and wrecked.

You press a kiss into his neck and rake your nails gently up and down his back.

**********************

Namjoon wakes up alone.

He should be used to the feeling by now, but after last night -- after you -- he can’t help but feel disappointed.  

He shoves a hand through his hair, slips into a pair of lounge pants and heads to the kitchen in search of coffee.

Then he stops in his tracks.

You are standing in front of the massive window in his living room, wearing nothing but one of his old t-shirts, holding a mug of coffee in one hand.  You sip it thoughtfully and look out over the city, seemingly unaware of his presence.

So Namjoon just stands there for a while, admiring your long legs and soft skin and the dark hair that spills down your back.  Admiring the way you make this place bearable just by existing in it.

“Thought you left me,” he says quietly, and you startle out of your reverie at the sound of his voice.

“I did leave you,” you feign a serious expression, nodding at your mug. “For this. Thought you’d understand.”

“That I do,” he laughs, padding across the room to join you at the window.  

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and you smile up at him.

“What are you thinking about this morning?” Namjoon presses quietly. “What’s on your mind?”

You sip your coffee and look back out the window before answering.

“I was just thinking about the day I came to ask for you a job,” you confess.  “How afraid and alone I felt back then.”

Namjoon can still remember how he felt seeing you walk into his office after all those years.   It certainly wasn’t afraid or alone and his chest squeezes at your admission.

“And now?”

“Now I feel …” you trail off as you turn back to look up at him.  “... like everything’s going to be okay.”

He stares back at you, suddenly overwhelmed by how good this feels.  

By how good it feels to be needed by you.  

By how you in his shirt, in his apartment, in his life, makes total sense.  

By how it feels like you belong here.

With him.

“You’re right, Jagiya.  Everything is going to be okay,” Namjoon vows, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss into your hair.   “Because I’m going to make sure of it.”

**************************

GLOSSARY:

Gajog: Family

Eomma: Mother

Ttal: Daughter

Amsaja: Lioness

Jaegyueo: Jaguar

TAG LIST:

@prettyguardiansailormin​​​ @barbikatherine​ @55west81st​ @laabellaavitaa21​ @codeinebelle​ @jalexad​ @trynavibewhileicry​ @poohsaidhi​​ @eltrain80​​ @bluewhale52​​ @sahmfanficbts​​ @midnighttifa​​ @krystle1990​​ @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag​​ @hauntedlilies​​ @kjooniesbabygirl​​ @unicorn5090​​ @parkjimin-persona​​ @kosicastairs​​ @julia-pacheco-blog​​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​​ @katbonv​​ @sunkissed725​​ @yourdaydreamerfan​​

[therenlover]

How The Evans (+ Quicksilver) Would React To Yoplait’s New Gushers Yogurt

a/n: I don’t honestly know how I came up with this. I guess I just really liked the yogurt I bought (I have big Gilear Faeth vibes rn) and decided I wanted to share it with all the Evans and you guys. I hope you enjoy and, like, maybe go buy some if you’re intrigued.

Warnings: Mild language, very small non-graphic mention of murder, recreational drug usage (Tate is a stoner, sue me)

--------

Tate Langdon

Because he died as a teen in the early 90′s, Tate would be a big fan of the types of crazy, super processed and flashy snacks that came out of that era.

Tate pretty much lived on 3D Doritos and Crystal Pepsi before his death. He still misses Dunkaroos.

He also has the biggest appetite of any ghost in the house because when he smokes he gets phantom munchies, so he sneaks into the kitchen and steals snacks to fulfill his cravings.

His first encounter with gushers yogurt would be on a snack run for the two of you while you were both zooted to high hell. 

He would return almost entirely snackless, fully fixated on the little yellow cup in his hand. 

“What the hell is this?” “Uh, yogurt?” “No, it’s not just yogurt, it’s weird!”

You’d finally look up from your place on the bed to find Tate in the doorway, red eyed, giving the yogurt cup a thousand yard stare.

Tate would be extremely confused because as far as he knew gushers were filled fruit snacks and definitely did NOT belong inside yogurt.

“Does it have gushers in it or something? Because that sounds awful,” “Kind of? It’s like... well, it would be easier to show you than to explain it. Did you bring a spoon?”

Of course he hadn’t.

When he did return with a spoon the two of you shared it.

Unsurprisingly, Tate didn’t hate it. It was a little weird, but overall it reminded him of the rare good times he had when he was still alive and the house hadn’t fully sunk it’s claws into him yet.

His favorite flavor is green apple. It just matches his vibe. 

Kit Walker

Kit is a man with pretty old fashioned values. He’s the kind of person who believes that he should be able to provide for his family so you don’t have to work. He also thinks it’s important for you to spend time with the kids because he’s gone at work so much.

This whole situation combined with the fact that money was a little tight led to you taking Thomas and Julia with you whenever you had to run errands and they weren’t at school.

One such time you were grocery shopping. That’s when they found the gushers yogurt.

 Kids have an eye for sweet things. Any food labelled like a dessert will make them go crazy, even if it’s just a flavored yogurt. 

In the end you bought a few. They were cheap enough that they didn’t make a huge difference to your budget and they were perfect to go in the kids lunches. 

Only the next morning did you realize that when you got the kids their yogurts you forgot to get Kit his own plain ones to put in his lunch. You mulled over your options and, in the end, decided to give Kit one of the gushers ones in his lunch pail for work. it’s just flavored yogurt, what could go wrong?

A lot, apparently.

At around lunch time you got a call from Kit at the shop.

“Mrs. Walka’, I believe I might have picked up the wrong lunch today,”

You’d immediately ask him what was wrong before remembering the yogurt.

“Nope, that’s yours Kit,” “Sweetheart, you’re killing me,” “Did I forget a spoon?”

Kit would explain, after some laughter, that the guys at the auto shop were giving him shit about the ‘kids yogurt’ in his lunch.

If you tried to apologize he’d stop you. It was all the same to him, he just wanted to make sure he hadn’t taken one of the kid’s lunches accidentally.

You’d laugh about it later as a bright spot in what ended up to be a long and tedious day for the both of you.

Besides that one occasion Kit wouldn’t eat gushers yogurt often, but sometimes if he was home during breakfast he’d have a cup of it with his cereal or toast.

He’s a fan of the classics, so his favorite flavor is tropical punch.

Kyle Spencer

Before his death, Kyle wouldn’t have any strong feelings towards gushers yogurt besides liking that it was a cheap snack that went on sale a lot.

As a broke college student with a calcium deficiency, he would appreciate it for what it was, a sweet means to an end.

After his death, though, it would be a different story.

Franken-Kyle had to re-learn all of his basic life skills from the ground up after the accident, which meant chewing food and not choking weren’t things he knew how to do automatically

In the time while he still couldn’t eat by himself, you fed him a lot of yogurt.

Most of the time it was cheaper and more pleasant that the baby food or health puree alternatives. It also was a food he had eaten pretty regularly when he was alive, so you thought it might make him happy to have some sense of normalcy in his new world.

He enjoyed the gushers yogurt particularly for a few reasons.

For one, it had fun colors! The bright reds, blues, and greens were entertaining and more mentally stimulating than the normal neutral colors of his food. It was also sweet, kind of like a dessert instead of a meal.

The big selling point, though, was the popping bubbles inside.

For a while after his death all Kyle ate were smooth semi-liquid foods he couldn’t possibly choke on while he re-learned how to feed himself. Gushers yogurt, though, had little popping bubbles that added texture while also not being large enough to choke on.

It was a win-win for both of you.

Even once Kyle had regained his ability to chew and eat normally, he still liked to have gushers yogurt with his breakfast.

“Bu...bbles,” “Huh?” “I want....bubbles” “Oh! You want the yogurt with the bubbles, Ky? I’ll get it in a second,” 

He wouldn’t have the words to express it, but the real reason Kyle likes gushers yogurt and continues to eat it is that it reminds him of you and the time you spent together while you taught him how to live again. 

His favorite is blue raspberry by a large margin. He enjoys tropical punch too, but he dislikes green apple.

Jimmy Darling

Jimmy has very few opinions when it comes to food. To him, eating is just something he has to do to keep himself alive and performing, so he doesn’t put much thought into what and when he eats, even at the diner.

When you first met him, he was barely eating one good meal a day just because he was so busy. 

So, one of the things you started to do when you and Jimmy got closer was bring him little snacks throughout the day he could eat quickly to keep him going.

They weren’t huge things, just an apple here and a sandwich there, but Jimmy really appreciated you putting in the effort to search him out and keep him healthy.

 The gushers yogurt would be introduced, once again, because it’s super inexpensive. 

You were out shopping for Jimmy’s snacks when you found it on sale, 20 for $10. It was a great deal, and Jimmy’s diet was severely lacking in calcium, so you bought a bunch of different flavors and brought one to him as a trial-run the next day after a performance.

“Hey dollface, you got something for me?” “I just might,” 

Only after he swept you up into a crushing hug would you be able to offer him the yogurt, which he’d take gratefully and eat in less than a minute. 

You took this as a good sign, and ended up buying some for Jimmy whenever it was on sale.

He asked you about why you bought them once and you genuinely couldn’t give him an answer. You just thought they were an easy snack and found they were on sale a lot more often than other things were.

Jimmy doesn’t have a favorite flavor, but if you asked him he’d just respond with whatever your favorite was.

James Patrick March

James Patrick March doesn’t usually have strong feelings about trivial things. As a serial killer and a ghost, small strange details of life in the 21st century just aren’t important enough for him to care about. Even modern foods with all of their artificial dyes and preservatives don’t tend to bother him. Well, all except one...

He fully believes that gushers yogurt is the worst, most evil thing that man has ever created in history, including himself.

It is entirely irrational how much he hates it.

The weirdest part is that he doesn’t mind how it tastes, he just has a random grudge against it by principle.

The first time he saw it was after Liz picked some up for you while she was out getting some groceries for the hotel.

James had come into the habit of asking you to make him grocery lists so the hotel had foods you enjoyed ever since the hoover stew incident. This time you had asked for something sweet you could eat as a snack between meals. Liz ended up picking out the gushers yogurts along with a few other little snacks

When you ran down to the kitchen to help Liz and Iris put the groceries away you grabbed a cup and ended up taking it upstairs so you could eat something while you were reading in bed.

It just so happens that James was finishing up with some office work and walked into your room right as you ate a spoonful of the bright blue yogurt. 

He was, to say the very least, concerned. 

Why was it that color? Food is not supposed to be that color???? And what were those little lumps?

While he fussed over your health, you held out your spoon and offered him a bite. He was skeptical at first, and his fears were only confirmed when he accepted the bite.

His delicate 1920′s tastebuds couldn’t take it.

“Darling, how do you eat that slop?” “James, it’s just yogurt!” “That is not yogurt, it’s an affront to the universe,”

Never one to back down in the face of James, you asked Liz to keep buying them every time she went out for groceries

Things were quiet until, a few months later, you found James standing over a recent kill eating a gushers yogurt.

“Darling, this isn’t what it looks like,” “I think it’s exactly what it looks like,” “There wasn’t anything else in the fridge,” “James, you’re dead. You don’t have to eat,” “...drat,”

James is adamant that he doesn’t have a favorite flavor because he hates it.... but its actually tropical punch.

Rory Monahan 

Rory normally wouldn’t feel any which way about gushers yogurt.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a goof and has nothing against eating fun little dessert yogurt, there’s just no reason for him or you to buy and eat it.

But if he got a brand deal with Yoplait to advertise it?

Count him in.

You’re eating gushers yogurt with every meal while he vlogs.

Breakfast? Yup. Lunch? Yup. Dinner? Yup.

Oh, you’re getting a snack? Well the only snack Rory bought when he ran out to the store is gushers yogurt. 

It’s all over his social media.

He ends up becoming the face of Yoplait and does quite a few primetime commercials, which surprisingly help out with his career. Think what Shaq is the The General Auto Insurance. 

“Now with new popping bubbles that gush with roarin’ fruity flavor,” “pffffft!” “What! It’s paying our bills!” 

Despite being surrounded by gushers yogurt, Rory wouldn’t actually have a favorite flavor. Once you eat that much yogurt it all tastes exactly the same.

Kai Anderson

Kai... well Kai is a tough one, as usual.

He’s not someone who likes to be perceived as weak, and what’s weaker than a man who’s seen eating flavored yogurt made for kids?

Well, a lot of things, but Kai’s toxic masculinity doesn’t let him see that.

In his eyes, gushers yogurt is simply not befitting of the divine ruler.

If you were close enough to him to offer some in a private moment, he’d probably find some way to use it in a weird, extended metaphor about the world in the hopes of manipulating you.

“In this world there’s people like me, like this yogurt, and people like you, fragile bubbles waiting to burst and spread your issues to the people who can still be saved. People like me cushion-” “Oh shut up and eat your yogurt, Kai,” 

Kai doesn’t have a favorite flavor, but kind of like James he’s only being pretentious. Who knew divine rulers are above picking favorite flavors?

Peter Maximoff

Peter would be the most on-board of anybody on the gushers yogurt trend. Like, even more on board than Kyle. 

This man uses a loooot of energy while he’s running around, so he needs super sugary foods like twinkies to be around for his inevitable snackfests at random hours of the day.

He also loves junk food. At one point you started wondering whether the X-gene prevented Peter from getting cavities, because he eats more sugar than anybody else you know. 

You like to go shopping with Peter because it keeps him from stealing (well, keeps him from stealing as much, but that’s beside the point) and even though he acts like a literal child whenever you make him come with you, he appreciates slowing down and spending time doing something you like.

Usually he gets bored easily in the “healthy food” aisles at the grocery store, meaning anything that isn’t the soda, chips, or snack aisles, but during a random trip to the store he suddenly rushed off out of your sight while you were in the dairy aisle picking up cottage cheese.

When he came back a second later, his arms were full of yogurt.

“Peter, what are you doing?” “Have you seen these? Look at the flavors! They have starburst, and key lime pie, and gushers with popping beads!!!! Popping! Beads!”

You would try to insist that he didn’t need to buy that much yogurt, especially because he hadn’t tried it before and didn’t know if he’d like it, but Peter would give you his world famous puppy dog eyes and you’d give in. 

From then on he’d have gushers yogurt (and starburst yogurt, to be honest) in his mini-fridge most of the time.

You didn’t mind. Technically it was healthier than his twinkie addiction, so as long as your speedster was getting calcium in his diet you weren’t about to complain.

He probably has stronger bones than Wolverine with all the yogurt he eats.

His favorite flavor is green apple, but he’d say it’s blue raspberry to go with his aesthetic. 

[ill-skillsgard]

I need Faust and Faith's reunion after he's done touring 👉👈 No pressure or anything. I just miss them a lot!

I always miss Fausty boy! I have some other prompts I wanted to incorporate into this one, but it was getting too long. I hope you enjoy!

+

Warning: 18+ mentions of public sex, mature language, anti-religious overtones, mentions of blood, violence, death, and drug use.

Summary: Faith goes to her first black metal show and asks Faust about the black circle.

- Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration.

Read more Faust x Faith here [x]

The duelling guitars screeched through twin stacks of speakers and filled the auditorium with malfeasance. Faith had never witnessed such a carnal reaction. As she watched from the side stage, the crowd below opened into a whirling pit of black-clad showgoers, pushing, jumping and banging against each other. The drums kicked into a blistering rhythm, and her attention turned toward the man she barely recognized with white and black makeup painting his face like the ghost of a demon.

Faust punished his drumkit with expert precision, his arms blurring in the chaos of their first song. His black hair swung as he banged his head without missing a beat. Horned and studded limbs spilled over the metal barricade, tongues lolled, and eyes lit with blissful fury. The singer's growls seemed to rise from the depths of hell, a monster shrieking at its thralls for more destruction.

Even with earplugs in, Faith felt the music blowing back in waves, shaking the column of her throat and turning her brain to mush. She dared slip one plug out to hear the true volume and quickly stuffed it back in when the intensity struck.

During the ambient interludes between songs, the crowd roared still. A few hundred people raised their hands, praising the men on stage. It reminded her of church, how they would let their eyes roll back, chanting the hymns and facing their palms skyward. This was no church she had ever set foot inside. The walls were painted black, the floor sticky from spilled beer, and its congregation made her gathering's displays of loyalty seem demure. The air reeked of salty skin and malt embedded in the paint from nights like this.

Faith saw people wearing shirts with Faust's band logo on the front, and a burst of pride warmed her belly. Though she was remarkably out of place, there was an odd sense of welcome. She could run headfirst into the crowd and get swallowed up and spit out like anyone else.

When they finished their set, Faust retired his drumsticks to a holder, chugged an entire bottle of beer and took a brief bow to the crowd before walking off stage. Faith bounced as he approached and scooped her off the floor, smearing her face with paint from around his mouth. When he set her down, his lips were partially visible through the now grey muck.

"How was it?" Faust asked.

"You guys are amazing. That's was so cool, babe!"

"Ah, you're just saying that."

"No, really! I can't believe how crazy they went for you!"

Faust sneered playfully, though their reception had been one for the books. "Probably 'cause half the crowd are friends of ours."

"Doesn't matter. You still kicked ass."

Faust's smile was unbreakable from a show well played and seeing his girlfriend waiting for him at the side of the stage. He led her to the green room as stagehands and managers nodded them through and let her dab the corpse paint off her face in the bathroom. Faust sopped up the sweat in his hair with a towel and changed his stage clothes before Faith returned. His bandmates soon joined them, and the chatter was unintelligible. People from other bands came in to talk and congratulate the young group on their first cross-country tour, and soon the back was filled with people hanging VIP badges from their pockets.

Faust pulled Faith from the bedlam before the room grew too hot. They made their way to the main floor and the rows of merchandise tables. Faith couldn't help but feel privileged to have access to the other side of the tables where Faust told her she could stash her coat and purse while a lineup of fans waited to purchase t-shirts and albums. Admirers pulled Faust away several times to take photos and shake hands. Faith watched in awe as people took turns posing with her boyfriend, who stayed looking stoic in his half-melted face paint. Her boyfriend. People from all walks of life wanted proof they'd met him, asking him to sign album covers and tour posters.

When Faust broke away from the clamour of excited metal fans, he took Faith's hand and pulled her through the crowd to a stairwell guarded by security. He flashed his tour badge, and the guard permitted them to the balcony where a few other musicians sat in a less crowded area.

"Come on, let's go outside. I need a fucking smoke," Faust said.

They went through a set of metal doors to an outdoor balcony where two men leaned against the railing, passing a joint and chatting. One spotted Faust, and a smile cracked over his face.

"Hey, Faust. Great show, man. We watched from the balcony. You guys were fucking killer," the man passed the joint to the drummer.

He hauled a significant bout of smoke into his lungs, then expelled it into the night air, handing it back with a nod.

The man refused. "Pass it to the lady."

"She's good," Faust said.

"I'll take a hit," Faith countered.

Faust glanced at her, brow raised high. "You sure?" He chuckled.

"Yes. I'll be fine."

Faust handed her the joint and turned to his fellow musicians. "Thanks. Glad you guys enjoyed the set."

As Faith inhaled, the other man turned to her and offered his hand to shake. "Hey, I'm Janne."

"Faith," she mouthed around a lungful of searing smoke.

"This is Yosh," Janne gestured at the man who'd initially offered Faust the joint. "Good to meet you."

"Is this your girlfriend, Fausty?"

"Yeah. She's my girl."

"Aw, that's cute. Didn't take you for the relationship type, to be honest. You like this scary son of a bitch?" Yosh asked.

Faith giggled as she looked up at the towering man dressed in black while he lit a cigarette. "He's not that scary. At least not to me," said Faith.

"Good man to have by your side at a show. You might get trampled down there."

"This is actually my first show."

Yosh choked on a hit and coughed, "really? And you came to a black metal show? That's ballsy."

"Well, it's not really my thing, but I wanted to see them play. I came from out of town just to be here tonight," Faith said proudly.

"Oh, right. You guys are from the green belt, right? Or should I say, the black circle?" Janne tittered.

Faust's eyes grew stony. "No. I'm not part of that shit. Bunch of fucking posers."

"We were just talking about the church fire there a couple weeks ago. You guys are known for that, aren't you?"

"I don't know. Guess so," Faust shrugged.

"They said there was a body found after they put out the fire, and it was nailed to some pieces of wood...like a cross or something. Can you believe that shit? How metal is that?"

Faith swallowed. She had heard the news break the day after the fire before they announced the unidentified body and after Faust had surprised her at the bus stop. They had prayed about it in church the following week and set up a collection to bulldoze the wreckage and reconstruct the chapel even bigger than before. Her mother was so stricken from the news that Faith had to spend a night at her parents' house consoling her while her father bad-mouthed the city's youth.

Bunch of heathen Satan-worshippers in this town. If I'd have known how disgusting some of these people are, I'd have never moved us out here.

Faith, her sisters and their mother all huddled on the sofa watching reruns of Full House while Stan stood hard-backed at the front window, peering out every few minutes as if the culprit might attack them next.

Oh, Stan, you don't know who did it. You can't point the finger when the police haven't even updated the community. Give the embers a chanced to cool. Besides, it's places like these that need the most help. We'll raise the money. I just hope to God they catch the people who did this.

All Faith could think about as she ate her sundae next to her sister was what she was doing the night after the fire. While the fire department was busy putting out the flames across town, she was pressed against a brick wall getting fucked by one of the heathen Satan-worshippers her father despised. She tried not to connect dots that had no business forming any kind of picture. Faust's appearance had been a coincidence.

I'll tell you who did this... It's that damned black circle. They've done it before, and they'll do it again.

Faust waved a hand in front of Faith's face, and she flinched from her reveries. "Babe? You there?"

"Oh, sorry," she laughed. "Kind of zoned out."

"Wanna head back inside?"

Faith didn't realize she was shivering until Faust rubbed her upper arms. "Sure. Yeah, let's do that."

"One puff of a joint, and you're on another planet, huh? Good seeing you Janne, Yosh... We should tour again."

"Yeah, man. As soon as possible. We're always on the road. We'd love to have you out for as many gigs as you guys can handle."

Faust nodded and clasped hands with both men before urging Faith along with a palm on her bottom. Once they made it inside, he snuck his fingers under her skirt and pinched her hard enough to give her a jolt but not to hurt.

"Faust!"

"What? No one's looking. Hey, you wanna check out our tour bus?"

Faith went to the balcony railing and saw the next band setting up their gear. She pointed below and turned to Faust. "Won't we miss the next band?"

"You actually wanna stay and watch?"

"Uh, yeah! This is my first show. I wanna see all the bands."

"All right. We can stay up here or go to the floor. But I'm warning you, it can get ruthless down there."

"I want to go down. It looks fun."

"Then we have to go now. We'll try to get right up front where you won't get swallowed in a circle pit."

"Really?" Faith gasped. "Like, right up front at the barricade?"

"Sure, why not? If you want the full experience. I'll stand right behind you and make sure crowd-surfers don't land on your head. Then after, I'll show you the bus, and...I dunno...Probably fuck."

"Oh my goodness, Faust. Yeah, right!"

"I'm serious. I'd fuck you right here if there weren't people around."

Emboldened by his suggestion, Faith whirled around and stared up at him with her brows lowered. "What's all this about the black circle?"

Faust scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"I've heard it mentioned before and that you're part of it. I just wanna know. Is it some kind of gang?"

"Do I look like I'm in a fucking gang? No. It's just some dumb shit they made up in high school."

"They as in your friends?"

"It's stupid and means nothing."

Faith stood in place. "Well, they're saying that church burned down because of your friends. Aren't you afraid someone might ask you questions?"

"I'm not afraid of shit because I've been on tour this whole time."

"Faust—"

"What did I tell you about the twenty questions? Now, do you wanna go watch the show or do you wanna keep talking about irrelevant shit?"

Dissatisfied with his response, Faith clammed up and followed Faust to the main floor. They wriggled through the tightening crowd and got upfront before the lights lowered, and a gust of smoke covered the stage. Ominous chanting heralded in a band dressed in black hoods. Faith watched, awestruck, but in the back of her mind, thoughts of the black circle fermented, giving off a foul smell she couldn't ignore.

After the headlining band opened with pyrotechnics and the frontman tossing a skull of pig's blood over the crowd, Faust took Faith around back, where the tour buses formed a barrier between the street and the venue. He led her inside and turned on the light to reveal the interior in a state of disarray. Beer bottles overflowed in the sink, ramen noodle wrappers littered the floor, and spiked leather decorum hung over seats and tables. There was a shredded porn magazine, its contents pinned to the wall and drawn over with a black marker, breasts shooting fire and snakes slithering out of places that made Faith blush.

"Sorry about the smell. Touring always has a distinct odour of unwashed balls and puke."

Faith tried not to touch any surface until Faust showed her to the back lounge area, where they sat and looked at each other in prolonged silence. Faith reined in a smile while her boyfriend sat back and studied her face.

"I'm glad you came. Sorry that it's probably more chaotic than you expected."

"It's okay. I'm having fun."

"You sure? I know it's not really your scene."

"You're my scene," Faith said.

He reached for her hand. Faith thought he meant to hold her, but he tugged her closer instead, straddling her over his lap. His hands came up under her skirt and over her ass while they kissed. Faust pulled away as she rocked her hips forth and placed his hands on her hips.

"So, how's school?"

"You're really asking me about school when we haven't seen each other in weeks?"

"What? Is there something else you wanna do?"

"I think you know what I want."

"Yeah, but I want you to say it."

Faith peered down the hall, past the bunks, toward the front of the bus. "What if someone comes in?"

"Not like my band hasn't walked in on you sucking my cock before."

"Oh my gosh, don't remind me."

Faust darkened, pulled air through his teeth. "Did you miss me?"

"Of course, I missed you. How is that even a question?"

He tilted his hips up and let Faith drop when he relaxed. She tugged his shirt up to appreciate the trail of hair leading down from his navel.

"What did you miss the most?"

"Your big, throbbing heart," Faith giggled. "I missed cuddling with you and going on walks together. Waking up with you beside me. Your cooking."

Faust pulled her down for a hug. "All right, all right. I get it. You wanna fuck, just not in the bus."

"Do your bandmates fuck girls in here?"

Laughter burst from his mouth as he rocked Faith back and forth. "They fucking wish."

The couple chuckled until another silence proceeded. Faith saw the fiery look in Faust's eyes, the appetite for her body that never tapered, his joy from having her there on his tour bus. Yet, all Faith saw was a building on fire, flames flickering behind his green stare. She smothered the thoughts with a kiss Faust took for permission to explore under her skirt again. Maybe she could kill her suspicions by reminding herself how much he loved her, the lengths he would go to protect her.

Voices yelled outside the bus, distracting Faith but not Faust, who rolled beneath her hips, oblivious to the arousal shooting through his groin.

"Yeah, come on, baby. Pull my cock out and sit on it for me. It'll be quick."

"Faust!" Someone shouted outside of the bus.

Faith pushed on his chest and perked toward the sound.

"Where the fuck is that asshole? First, he fucks off for an entire day, loses his phone, makes us cancel a show, and now the prick can't be dicked to help load out because his bitch is here? Getting real fucking sick of the bullshit, Ola."

"Mordy, chill out, man."

The bus door opened, followed by a waft of cigarette smoke. Boot tread hammered across the floor, and Mordy swayed through to the back, scoffing when he saw Faust with his girlfriend perched on his lap.

"You wanna take apart your drumkit, or are you just gonna let it sit in the way of everyone's gear? Oh, sorry, should have known you were too busy to be fucking bothered."

Faust lifted Faith off his thighs, and she bounced on the sofa as he shot up and stared Mordy down. The bass player didn't flinch.

"What? What're you gonna do, Faust? Punch me out? Good thing it's our last show. Wouldn't want your personal business getting in the way of the biggest tour of our fucking lives so far."

"You don't know shit, so I suggest you shut your mouth."

"No, I'm not gonna shut my mouth. Someone has to stand up to you, and none of these pussies will. Go load out your fucking gear, man!"

Faust smelled whiskey on Mordy's breath. He was far too sober to start a fight with the bass player and nodded, shouldering past him. Mordy crashed into the wall and cursed as the drummer stomped off the bus, leaving Faith fidgeting with the edge of her skirt and unsure if she should follow. Mordy scoffed at her and exited the bus after Faust, shouting until she no longer heard him.

When Faust returned, Faith stood up and wrang her wrists. "Should I leave?"

"We're both leaving," Faust muttered as he tore open the zipper on his backpack and scrounged up his clothes and stage effects to stuff inside. He ducked into the small fridge and took four bottles of beer, sticking two in the holders of his bag and pocketing the other two inside his leather jacket.

"Come on. We're out of here."

"But, neither of us have a car, and we're far from home," Faith said.

"Call a cab."

Outside of the bus, guitar cases and boxes of merch waited for loading. Faust opened a tote, wrenched open a steel moneybox and took some of the cash inside. He found Faith's coat and purse and passed them to her before kicking a hole into the plastic container. Mordy and Ola noticed this as Faust walked away with Faith in tow.

"Hey, asshole! What do you think you're doing? You can't just fucking take off with the merch money!"

Faust turned around, grabbed his crotch and flipped them off. "Suck my dick, fuckbags. Find a new drummer."

[purekesseltrash]

Chapter 12 of Bury Them Deep, the final chapter, is out!

Fave Excerpt:

Mezou jammed his hands inside of his coat pockets, unsure of what to say or even do besides grin like an idiot.  Tokoyami came to a stop finally and stared at Mezou, mouth open as if he was about to speak.  He gaped for a moment more before a distinctly annoyed look came across his features.  “Fuck,” he hissed, “I had a whole speech that I was thinking up on the way here and suddenly I have found my mind to be a blank slate.”

Mezou laughed, unable to help himself, “I don’t need speeches.”

Tokoyami stepped forward to grab at Mezou’s coat, his grip firm and his face honest, “You deserve them.  I fear I am an incurable romantic and this is simply how I function.  But my words have fled like cowards and the only part of the speech that I can remember is this, but it is the important part.  Let me take you on a date.  A real one.”

“I’d like that,” Mezou said softly.

Fun Facts:

- Hand to god, I had not decided on names for all of Shouji’s siblings until I had to write them.  Thank you, Japanese Name Generator.  Though Makoto is another Sailor Moon reference.  I also had not know that Shouji’s mom was where he got his artistic eye from, though I am glad for it.

- My favorite Hip song is ‘Lake Fever’ or ‘Scared’.  I thought that the lyric in Lake Fever was ‘You whispered Courage’ for the longest time, legitimately until I checked the lyrics to write the pivotal fucking scene only to find out that no, it was ‘hurry’.  It all worked out, thank GOD.

- IDK if anyone noticed, but I ship them as Tokoshouji, as opposed to Shoutoko.  I like the idea of Tokoyami being one taking the initiative better and it seems to fit his character anyway.  I don’t see this dynamic often and it drives me nuts because I could write an ESSAY on why it works so well.  Idk.

- Not even gonna lie, the last Mic segment made me cry.  It was like my final good bye to everyone reading, it’s personal.  And it’s basically me peeking out there, as opposed to just Mic.  For all of hockey’s shitty aspects, it’s the best game in the world.  I love it and I want it to be good and I will do what I can to make it be good.

More stuff under the read more about my future plans with this universe:

- So I have written a chapter and a half of an Erasermic prequel, basically telling the story of what happened when Shouta retired and ended up drugged to the gills and numb to the world at Hizashi’s doorstep, despite the two of them not having seen each other in legitimately over 10 years.

- I also have a side story of Kirishima and Bakugou, both with an idea of how they got together as well as what happens to them when they get to the NHL.  (Spoilers:  Kirishima does not have a good time as the first out and gay NHLer.  He basically gets buried in the minors despite being legitimately good.  Eventually he finally quits hockey way too young.  Bakugou meanwhile is a generational talent and is legit too good to bury in the minors.  When Kirishima retires, Bakugou flies to Tokoyami and Shouji’s house, where Kirishima is licking his wounds, and is like ‘Marry me.’  Kirishima tells him that he’s only going to say yes if Bakugou proposes with a Cup ring and Bakugou is like ‘Bet’.

- I also have one in mind on Ojiro and Shinsou.  They had an amicable breakup when they graduated, both understanding that the life of a hockey wife wasn’t gonna work for Ojiro.  Ojiro went on to meet a super cool alt girl through the info sec community and they got married and had a daughter.  They end up splitting up amicably when their daughter is around 7 and split custody without much of an issue.  Ojiro works remotely and lives in what is basically a lake cabin up in northern Minnesota.  He and Shinsou have kept in touch and when Shinsou finally retires, he comes to visit Ojiro.  The fic would go over them meeting up again.

- And then, of course, there’s Shouji and Tokoyami.

They get their shitty apartment in Atlanta.  Kenta helps them with the deposit and also goes with Shouji as he tries to find one.  Shouji ends up getting taken on by Orca, a buddy of Loder’s who generally doesn’t take Midwestern farm boys on as apprentices but he makes an exception, despite the fact that his work very afro centric.  Shouji is a nice guy though and a damned hard worker and has a good eye so Orca keeps him on for a long while.  Shouji still ends up picking up a bunch of odd jobs here and there, mostly grunt work like putting up drywall, but it gets him and Tokoyami through the absolute agony that is legal school.

Tokoyami goes into intellectual property law.  He knows how much work goes in to art and creative stuff and he wants to protect people like Shouji.  He ends up making a pretty nice living and they’re able to pay off the credit card debt that they accumulated during Tokoyami going through law school.  Shouji actually starts doing pretty well for himself too, mostly with his pottery but still with some sculpture.  Eventually Tokoyami proposes that they move to Raleigh, both because it makes sense for both of them and their jobs and well... because they have a hockey team.

Shouji never gave up hockey.  He had some years right after college where he did struggle to even look at his gear.  He had told his parents that he was gay and not going to the NHL over the phone as they were planning to come to his graduation, because he just couldn’t take them wasting money when he knew that they would never want to talk to him again.  Unfortunately, he was right.  Kenta still came to his graduation though and had two bullhorns that he slammed the entire time that Shouji was accepting his diploma.  He even brought Shouji his own pride flag and insisted on taking a picture with him holding it.  He posted the picture on his facebook with a very bold pronouncement that he was very proud of the first Shouji to get a college degree and how anyone that had a problem with his little brother could take it up with Kenta.  Still, Shouji went through some real mourning with the loss of his family and he took a small break.

But then he came back to it, once they started to get a little extra spending money.  He found a beer league group in Atlanta and started to really get back into the game, researching ways to improve in his downtime.  It got a little weird sometimes at the beer league games because sometimes Shouji would forget that he’d decided to wear eyeshadow or would forget that he had on entirely wrong undergarments but everyone accepts that goalies are weird so it was accepted.  Eventually he ends up having people ask him to coach for their kids, which he is loathe to do until Tokoyami points out that it’s better than Shouji do it, as someone who knows how damaging expectations and pressure can be, than anyone else.  So that becomes a little part time job of his.

Everything isn’t perfect for Shouji and Tokoyami.  Nothing is perfect.  Tokoyami is a borderline hoarder and Shouji can’t stand mess and that causes them to fight enough that they wisely seek counselling. But they’re happy.  Tokoyami eases up on the goth stuff and accepts his accent a bit more, though he still dresses in dark colors, especially for court.  Shouji actually gets to play around a little with the whole genderqueer thing and makes up for the time that he spent avoiding anything that would make him seem too gay.  And they still work really well together, becoming the pair that everyone from college kind of groans at, because they’re so ridiculously in love, but also envies.

They get season tickets to the Carolina Hurricaines.  You’ll see them with Tokoyami in a Devils jersey and Shouji with one of many from his massive collection.  Tokoyami will make comments here and there during the game, showing that he does actually listen when Shouji talks about goalie stuff and they only ever miss a game for gallery openings or work events.  Otherwise, they are there in their seats, holding hands and watching the game.

Feel free to ask me any questions!  I’m more than happy to talk about this, if you couldn’t tell.  (Also, I do have some half written smut so uh.... yeah.)

[silver-renjun]

Cafe 7 Dream: Jisung

Word count: 3,354

Warnings: violence, stabbing 

Read the prologue before reading this!  

You were at the cafe and there was no work for you to do. The dreamies were handling everything on their own, so there was no use for you at the cafe. Bored, you just stared at the boys as they made orders. You wanted to help out, but you knew that disrupting them could mess up their whole flow and cost them a lot of money. Chenle reminded you of that many, many times before. 

The only one that didn’t seem busy was Jisung. He was lounging around, staring at the boys mindlessly, just like you. Jisung caught your eye. It wasn’t usual that you saw him behind the counter. He almost always stayed in the back room, “keeping inventory”. You were suspicious of him. There was no way the cafe had so much stuff that Jisung had to be in the back room all the time. You could tell by the way that Jisung stuttered that he was hiding something back there. Then again, Jisung always stuttered when he talked to you.

Jisung didn’t stay in your vision for long. After a few minutes, he slipped back into the back room. Your curiosity was getting the best of you. You knew that Jisung would be upset if you sneaked in, but you just had to know what was back there. You looked around at the other dreamies. They were all preoccupied, making it the perfect opportunity for you to sneak into the back. You took your chance and creeped into the room.

You were not prepared for what you saw. All of the walls were covered in rows of shelves, each lined with countless bottles. The bottles contained all sorts of liquids, some of which were neon colors. At the center of the room, there was a table set up with beakers and tubes. You were in awe of what looked like a lab behind the cafe. You were going to sneak back out, but Jisung head popped up from behind the table. 

“y/n! What are, uh, you doing here?” Jisung stuttered with a nervous smile. The boy had two bottles with pink liquid in his hands. He tried to hide them behind his back, but had already noticed them.

“Jisung? What is this place? What is all this stuff?” you asked, reaching out to grab a bottle.

“No!” Jisung shouted, causing you to flinch. “Don’t touch anything in here, okay?” He placed the bottles down on the table and held his forehead. “What am I going to do?” he muttered to himself.

“First, you’re going to explain to me what this all is.”

“Okay, so, uh, you know how people love coming to our cafe,” Jisung said while playing with his fingers. “It’s because of this stuff.”

“You’re drugging people?”

“No! No! That’s not it! It’s just that, uh, you’re really not going to believe me.”

“Try me,”  you replied, putting your hands on your hips.

“I’m a wizard, so I make potions. We put love potions in the cafe food so that people will love our cafe.” Jisung noticed your confused face. “If you don’t believe me you can try for yourself.”

You walked over to where Jisung was standing. He quickly grabbed another bottle from under the table and placed it on the table.

“Experience the potion yourself. When it’s effects wear off, I’ll tell you exactly what happened to you without you even telling me anything.” 

You grabbed the potion from the table and drank it. Before you could place the bottle back down, you were transported to another world. You were in a forest and it was snowing. There were 7 little boys running around, screaming in joy as they played a game of tag. Your heart warmed at the precious sight of the dreamies when they were young. You were about to take a step closer, but everything began to fade. You found yourself back in the room with Jisung. 

“You saw your childhood, right? The most precious memory that you’ve ever experienced.” Jisung said. You nodded, not having the heart to say that you saw otherwise.

“It’s an original potion that I made. It took months to develop perfectly,” Jisung said as he returned the bottle to it’s original place. 

Jisung worked on the potion for months, but it seemed like he only tested it on himself. The potion wasn’t the user’s most precious memory, it was Jisung’s. Even though you didn’t see the right image, you were convinced Jisung was telling the truth about magic.  

“What about the other guys?”

“So Mark and Jaemin, they’re normal people. Kind of like you, but more magically aware. Haechan, he hasn’t gained his powers yet. And then Jeno, he’s a water spirit.”

“Makes sense,” you replied. 

“And then Chenle, well, uh,” Jisung began to stutter again. “He’s like super rich and his family is like a super big deal, so he’s not really allowed to tell his powers. Not even to me,” he said, pretending to be disappointed.

“Of course he wouldn’t tell you! You’d blabber it all out!” you joked.

“I don’t blabber any secrets!” Jisung said, trying to defend himself. “And Renjun trusted me with his vision about you so ha!”

“Renjun had a vision about me?” you said raising your eyebrow.

“Shoot,” Jisung said, slapping his forehead. “I’ll just let him explain it.”

Jisung walked back into the front of the cafe and you followed behind him. Renjun was standing behind the counter with the other boys, trying to put up a poster on the wall.

“So Renjun, what’s this about a vision you had?” you asked with your arms crossed.

“Dude, I told you Jisung wouldn’t be able to keep a secret,” Jeno said, laughing. Renjun shook his head in disappointment before looking at you. 

“y/n, do you believe in magic?” Renjun asked.

“You can skip the explanation. I saw everything Jisung had in the back.”

“Okay, so I’m an oracle, so I can see into the future. And I saw your future, and it’s not looking too good. You’re probably going to get attacked,” Renjun said casually, as if it were nothing.  

“Before you get worried y/n, it’s really no big deal. Renjun’s never had an accurate vision before. It’s not like this one’s going to come true,” Chenle said.

“And he was on the floor of a frat house when it came to him, so I wouldn’t worry too much,” Mark added. Renjun slapped Mark on the arm for adding that detail.

“Oh wow, for a second I thought I was going to be special,” you said sarcastically, pretending to be disappointed.

“Don’t worry y/n, I’ll protect you,” Jisung said, joining in on your sarcasm. He threw his arm around your shoulder, rubbed your head, and said, “you’re all safe now y/n.”

The boys laughed and then went back to work. Jisung walked back into the back room, and you followed him, since you had nothing better to do. 

“Hey Jisung, why don’t you give me so potions lessons?” you said. You found a stool in the corner of the room and pulled it up to the table. “It would be good practice for you, too.”

“Who said I needed practice?” Jisung replied. You turned around and got up from the stool, ready to walk out the door. “Hey, wait! I’ll do it!”

You sat back down on the stool and watched Jisung. He started pulling out liquids and dried plants from under the table. There were far too many thing coming out from under the small table, but you figured that magical storage was very efficient.

 “The first lesson is an antidote potion,” Jisung said. He placed in front of you various dried plants, seeds, and a dark green liquid.

“Can’t we start with the love potion,” you complained.

“If you’re trying to seduce someone, you won’t be learning it here,” Jisung said with a smile. “And the antidote potion is the best place to start anyways. If you mess up any other potion, it could kill you. It’s always important to know how to make an antidote.” Jisung handed you a mortar and pestle.

“I have to grind this by hand?” you groaned.

“Unless you have magical abilities, you’d better get used to grinding everything in there. Any questions so far?”

“What is all this stuff?” you asked as you grinded all the dry ingredients.

“Actually, I’m not really sure. I kind of just know the stuff I need. I use my intuition.”

“Oh that’s just great,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“It’s not like it matters anyways. You’re doing a great job,” Jisung said with a smile. “Now it’s time to add the blue liquid. Don’t ask me what it is, I wasn’t paying attention when I learned it.”

You poured the blue liquid in and began to mix it. 

“So what else do you do Jisung? There’s more to being a wizard than just potions, right?”

“Well, potions are my specialty. I can make them back here when I’m alone. There’s nobody yelling at me or telling me to hurry up when I make potions, so it’s pretty therapeutic. I can do spells too, but those take a lot of patience to learn, especially if you try to do them mentally. Spells are so much more pressure.”

“Oh,” you said, looking down at what you had made. “I’m sorry I disturbed your private time.” 

“Nah, it’s no big deal. I like you y/n. I mean, uh, I like being around you.” Jisung quickly went under the desk to get a bottle for you potion, but he was really just trying to avoid eye contact with you. His face was burning up. After Jisung got up, he poured your potion into a bottle and sealed it. He grabbed a permanent marker and wrote on the bottle.

“y/n’s antidote potion,” Jisung said with a smile. “I’ll be sure to make good use out of this.”

“I think the cafe is closing up right now,” you told Jisung. The commotion you could hear between Renjun and Haechan was an obvious sign that it was time for you to leave. 

“Well then, I’ll see you tomorrow y/n,” Jisung replied, waving you off as you walked towards the door. “Or do you prefer apprentice?” 

“I’d go by any name if it meant I could spend time with you,” you said. You were shocked at your own words. You had no idea where that came from. You hurried out before Jisung could question you on your reply.

You spent all your shifts with Jisung. Every day, Jisung had a new set of herbs for you to grind and bottle. You were worried the Chenle might be upset that you weren’t working, but he just smiled and pushed you into the back with Jisung.

“So what are we learning today, Jisung?” you asked as you pulled up the stool.

“Love potions,” Jisung said with a smile.

“You’re finally teaching me how you drug the people in the cafe,” you said teasingly.

“I don’t drug people, y/n. It’s magic. There’s a difference,” Jisung explained. “And were just doing a basic love potion today. Nothing complicated like falling in love with a building.” 

You chucked at Jisung’s response.

“Hey, you have no idea how hard that was for me! You try making people love the cafe when the employees are moody magical beings!” Jisung complained as he grabbed the ingredients for the love potions. He placed an assortment of dried herbs and seeds on the table.

“So what’s the plan here?” you asked.

“You can just take whatever you like. Love potions are based on personal preference. There’s really no wrong answer,” Jisung said as he handed you the mortar and pestle. “Oh wait! I forgot the most important ingredient!”

You watched as Jisung pulled out a bottle with a red liquid inside.

“You can taste it, it’s nothing weird, I promise,” Jisung said as he handed the bottle over to you.

You dipped your finger inside and tasted the mysterious liquid.

“This is tomato juice!” you said with wide eyes. “Your secret ingredient is tomato juice?”

“It’s for the aesthetics. It gives the potion a nice color. And my secret ingredient isn’t tomato juice. I use hot sauce. Tomato juice is a beginner’s ingredient.”

“Hot sauce is not aesthetic Jisung,” you said with a laugh.

“It’s more aesthetic than blood.” Jisung noticed the confused look on your face. “It’s an old practice,” he explained.

You spent the rest of your shift putting together a love potion. Jisung had been right about how difficult it was. Selecting your own ingredients took careful deliberation. You wanted your first love potion to be perfect. After a while, you had put together your first love potion.

“Wow, that looks really good, y/n,” Jisung said with admiration. “Can I try it? You can try mine too.”

“What’s going to happen when we taste it?” you asked. 

“These are pretty weak potions anyways. We’re probably just going to see our crush. It’ll be a basic sensation. It’ll be something you already know.” 

“Let’s do it then,” you said. 

You and Jisung exchanged bottles and took a sip from the potions. You closed your eyes and waited for the potion to settle in. When you opened your eyes again, you were in the same place.

“Nothing happened, Jisung. Did we make them wrong or what?” you asked.

“No y/n. We made them perfectly,” Jisung replied. 

You watched as Jisung crinkled up his nose at what he had just said. You took a second to process what he meant. 

“So that means we, uh,” you started to say. You couldn’t verbalize the next part. 

“Yep,” Jisung said while looking down. Despite liking each other, you and Jisung were highly embarassed by the situation.

“So, um, uh,” you stuttered, trying to find something to say to Jisung.

“Do you want to date me?” Jisung babbled.  

“Yes.” You kept your hands busy with all the ingredients on the table. You still felt too awkward to make eye contact with Jisung. He felt the same way about you. 

“We should head out now,” Jisung said. You followed him out towards the front of the cafe.

The other boys immediately noticed that Jisung was blushing when you two walked out. Neither you nor Jisung were making eye contact with any of them.

“What’s up with you two? Did you two make out in the back or what?” Jaemin said with a smirk.

“No way, Jisung’s too much of a wimp to do that,” Mark replied.

“The probably kissed by accident or something,” Jeno said.

“How do you accidentally kiss someone?” Chenle asked.

“It’s a classic trick Chenle. y/n probably fell on Jisung and-” Renjun started.

“That’s not what happened!” Everyone was shocked by Jisung’s sudden confidence, even Jisung himself. “We’re, uh, dating each other now. That’s all,” Jisung said in a quiet voice.

The dreamies erupted in screams. Haechan started slapping Jisung on the back.

“Look at you, all grown up,” Haechan said with awe. “Be careful back there. The two of you alone in that dark room, it could get wild, Jisung.”

After dating for a while, the teasing subdued from the dreamies. There was always the occasional joke about your potions mixing, but it was expected from the boys. You and Jisung became much more comfortable with one another.

The day of the cafe event had finally rolled around. You didn’t pay much attention to it after Renjun had mentioned it to you, but apparently it was a very big deal to the dreamies. They would be in the presence of a lot more magic than they were used to, so they spending a lot of extra time at the cafe. You tagged along, hoping to help them in any way possible. It had been a long time since you actually contributed to the cafe and not just sit in the back with your boyfriend.

“Hey y/n, can you help me and Jisung in the back right now?” Haechan said.

You followed Haechan into the back room. He locked the door behind you, which was odd. Jisung never did that before. Before you could ask him why he did that, Haechan lunged towards you. He pinned you to the ground and you started to scream.

“Don’t scream y/n, or you’ll end up like your boyfriend over there,” Haechan said with a menacing grin. Haechan turned your head to the side so you could see Jisung. He was sitting in the corner tied up with rope. His mouth was covered with tape.

“What are you doing?” you cried.

“Good question, y/n. You’re just so smart, aren’t you?” Haechan said as he tied up your arms. “You skip lectures so you can go take little potion lessons from your boyfriend. How cute.”

“This is about the lectures? Oh my gosh Haechan, I promise I-” Haechan placed his hand over your mouth.

“Don’t make me tape that beautiful mouth up.” Haechan got to work on tying up your feet. “And it’s something much more different, dear. You see with this high magical energy in the air, I’m at an urge to awaken my powers.”

Haechan stood up and grabbed a knife from the table.

“And there happens to be one potion that’ll do the trick. Your precious boyfriend already started making it. Now I just need the final ingredient,” Haechan said as he leaned over you. “Your blood.”

Haechan pulled the blade through your arms. Blood started to leak out onto your shirt, but you had already passed out. Haechan collected the blood and placed it into the bottle with the other ingredients. He started to take a sip when the bottle shattered. Haechan was enraged. He turned around to see Jisung, who had broken free. 

“You think you can stop me?” Haechan screamed.

Haechan tried to take a step forward, but he had become paralyzed. Jisung was mumbling a spell to himself. Even though he was focusing all his energy on restraining Haechan, Jisung could only think of you. He hurried over to the shelves and grabbed the first healing potion he could find. He opened the bottle and poured the whole thing down your throat. 

“Jisung!” was the first thing you said when you woke up. Jisung was too busy mumbling spells to reply to you. You looked over at the bottle Jisung had given you. It was the first potion you had made. You picked up the bottle and at the same time, Jisung stopped mumbling and pulled you into a hug. You felt warm in his embrace, but you became worried.

“What about Haechan?” you asked as you pulled away from the hug.

“He’s in paralysis. His body is transforming right now, so he’s especially dangerous. I put a spell on him so he won’t hurt us right now.”

You had no words for how grateful you were. You pulled him into a hug again.

“y/n, I’m really sorry I couldn’t protect you. You got hurt because of me. I should have never even started making that-”

You put your finger over his lips. You didn’t want the moment to be ruined. There would be a lot of explaining and apologizing to be done, but at that moment you just wanted to be in the arms of your boyfriend. 

Select another route

[devoidwrites]

Summary - Your friend decided to drag you to a party a friend of hers was throwing. There you met Jun, who wasn't too much of a party person either. The two of you decide to skip out and it turns out to be a fun night.

Words: 2.2K

Warnings: none

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

-

"I'm not going Yerin!" You tried to pull away from your best friend, but there was no way she was letting you out of this one alive.

"You've been cooped up in your dorm for the passed two weeks y/n! You have to get out an associate with people!" She argued her case as she continued to pull you alongside the sidewalk. She had taken it upon herself to put you in clothing far too tight and drag you from your shared dorm room on a chilly Friday afternoon, barely getting out the words 'party' and 'cute guys' before pulling you out the door.

"I do associate with people!" You countered, huffing as you were finally able to pull yourself away from her grip. Yerin stopped walking, turning to make sure you weren't going to make a run for it. You knew better. If you did that you would never hear the end of it, so you decided to brave through this, for her sake that is.

Yerin rolled her eyes before turning to walk once more, making sure you were following after her. "Being paired up with random people in your introduction to psychology class does not count."

"I talk to you!"

"Barely, and we're roommates!" She reminded you with a scoff. "Do I need to remind you that I'm the one that started this friendship. If it weren't for me you'd be stuck back in the dorm with your nose in a book."

"So I'm guessing it's too late to back out of the best friend deal then?" You questioned, obviously joking. Yerin laughed sarcastically before squealing excitedly and pointing towards the building in front of you. You two had arrived at the party, which was in full swing.

You sighed before following your friend into the house filled with sweaty college kids. Something about being surrounded by drunk people doing drugs and acting like fools just never felt right to you. You would much rather be home watching tv or reading a book. You would rather do anything else over having to push through hormonal young adults grinding on one another just to get to an area where you could breathe.

Yerin handed you a drink as soon as you made it to the kitchen. "What is this?"

"I don't know, but it's free alcohol, so drink up!"

You couldn't believe you were friends with someone so outgoing and trusting. You knew it was a rule for a young woman to never leave a drink unattended, but here was your best friend, drinking the first thing she was handed. It just didn't make any sense.

"Do you wanna dance?"

"No thanks, I'm gonna go sit by the pool." You told her. Once she made sure you would be fine by yourself, she made her way onto the dance floor, instantly finding someone to dance with. It was a perk of hers, she never met a stranger. Then again, that wouldn't always be a good thing.

You tore your eyes away from your friend and made you way to the backyard, where the pool was. It wasn't an ideal situation, sitting around and watching people hump on each other in the pool, but hey, at least you could breathe out here.

It's what you always did when you were dragged to a party. You found a nice spot to sit until Yerin was ready to leave. Of course you could always leave her, but what if something happened after you left? You would never forgive yourself. It's the only reason you ever stayed at these damned parties.

"Not a party goer?" A voice spoke up from beside you, making you jump slightly. You turned your eyes away from your phone to look up, catching the stare of the boy beside you.

You could say he was handsome, but that would be an understatement. The way his straight brown hair cascaded down his face made his jawline pop, and his bright eyes shone in the twinkling lights above you. He gave you a sweet smile before clearing his throat.

You blinked, quickly turning away to hide your tinted cheeks. You were staring at him like a shocked little girl! "Oh yeah, being surrounded by a bunch of drunk hormonal college students is always a thrill!"

"Ah, sarcasm. I like it." He sat back in his seat. "I'm Jun."

"Y/n." You introduced yourself, gripping your phone a little tighter in your hands. "Are you not a fan of parties either?"

"They're alright, but I'd rather spend my time elsewhere." He told you before taking a sip of his drink.

"Then why are you here?" You couldn't help but ask. You had surprised yourself really. Normally, you wouldn't strike up a conversation with someone so naturally, but something about him made it easy. He had a nice vibe to him, and yours seemed to match easily.

"My friends dragged me here." He pointed over to a group of boys towards the pool. One of them did a back flip off the diving board, interrupting the couples make out session making the others laugh. "I figured I'd come just to make sure they didn't set the place on fire or something. What about you? Why are you here if you don't enjoy this type of scene?"

"Well, my roommate decided I needed to associate more with people, so she dragged me here and left to go dance with a stranger." Now that you said it out loud, it sounded somewhat depressing. She had just left you when she was the one to drag you here in the first place. You couldn't blame her though. She was trying to get you to open up, but it obviously wasn't easy.

"Sounds fun." He sat up straighter in his seat, his face more serious now. He glanced around, his eyes glancing everywhere before they finally landed on you. "Do you wanna get out of here?"

You blinked again, taken back by the question. This guy was brazen to ask you to just up and leave with him when you didn't even know his family name yet. "What?"

"Do you wanna get out of here?" He questioned once more, only this time he turned to look at you fully, his gaze capturing your own. "Let's escape the party and find something more fun for the both of us?"

"We literally just met." You reminded him, pointing a finger in his direction. "How do I know you're not some creep who's gonna kidnap me?"

It was a good thing to be cautious, but then again if you did something as crazy as go off with a random guy you met at a party Yerin would leave you alone for at least a week.

Your words made the boy chuckle. Jun slid a hand through his hair. "Do I seem like the type to want to kidnap you?"

"Nobody thought Ted Bundy looked like a killer." You informed him matter-of-factly, but your words only made a small smirk grow on his lips. "But he got his victims because he was attractive."

"Are you saying I'm attractive?"

"I-" You sighed, knowing you were caught in your own words. You then caught sight of your friend grinding on another random boy, which brought you back to reality. You couldn't believe you were even thinking about leaving with a random boy you had just met. "I'm sorry, but I can't leave my friend alone."

"Y/n!" A voice called out happily. You turned your eyes to meet Yerin, who had obviously had more to drink since you departed from her. "This is Wonwoo. I'm going to his place!"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" You questioned, standing up to give your friend a questioning glance. You felt Jun stand up as well. He leaned over to whisper in your ear.

"You have nothing to worry about, Wonwoo wouldn't hurt a fly."

You turned around to look at him with an arched eyebrow. "You know him?"

"He's my roommate." His face morphed into a look a disgust as he realized what this meant. "Which means I have to find a place to go tonight."

"Who's this?" Yerin asked, giving you a drunken smile.

"Uh- this is Jun. You told me to associate more right?"

Yerin nodded as she leaned closer to your ear. "He's cute."

Rolling your eyes, you pushed her off of you. After fixing your shirt, you turned back around to talk to Yerin, but she and Wonwoo were already making their way through the mass of people still partying. You sighed, turning back to the brunet boy, who was smiling hopefully at you.

Now you had no reason to deny his offer of a spontaneous adventure with him, not unless you just didn't want to that is. You sighed, unbelief settling in that you were about to do something so crazy.

"Okay, let's get out of here."

-

"You suck at this!"

"It's not my fault my hand slipped!" You groaned as you walked back over to the seats the two of you occupied. Jun had brought you to one of the only fun places open this late, which was a bowling alley just down the road.

You had never seen an all night bowling alley before, but the owner informed you that he only stayed open late whenever it's was the weekend. It attracted the drunks and he got money off their drunken antics and it gave the teens something to do on their nights off from school. It was a smart move, actually.

"Let me show you how it's done." Jun was confident, something you weren't, unless it was about your studies. You knew you were smart, and you weren't afraid to announce it to whoever.

He waltzed over to the ball rack and picked up the yellow bowling ball he had been using the past hour you two had been here. He stepped up to the line and reeled his arm back before swinging it forward, letting the ball speed down the middle of the alley, hitting the middle pin and giving him a strike.

You clapped, laughing as he did a dance. "I admit, you're better than me."

"Why thank you!" He bowed over dramatically, making you laugh once more. You were actually having fun with him. It was something about Jun that made it feel like you've known each other for months instead of hours. He was just so lively and outgoing.

You had learned that he wasn't in college anymore, but he lived close by and stayed in contact with his friends he made in college. He always followed them to parties to make sure his friends were okay, and he was usually the designated driver so they wouldn't have to stumble all the way home. He wasn't too much older than you.

He worked at the local cafe, spending his days serving coffee to tired adults and treats to hyperactive children. He was extremely kind, always making sure you were alright at every chance he had. You always made sure to reassure him that you were fine, giving him a sweet smile to sell it.

"Sorry to interrupt your game, but I have to close it down whenever you two are done." The manager informed the two of you, making the smile drop from your lips. Checking the time on your phone, you gasped when you realized in was almost two in the morning.

"We'll try to hurry." Jun told the older man with a smile and a bow. The two of you did as promised and hurried up with your game, finishing just in time.

"I told you I'd win!" Jun boasted as the two of you walked down the sidewalk and towards the college campus. He offered to walk you home, and with it being late you happily accepted.

You chuckled at his happiness for winning a silly game. "I haven't bowled in years."

"Maybe we could do it again some time." He suggested, brining a smile to your lips. It was strange, but you were having a great time. Once you got passed the fact that you barely knew the boy beside you, you were able to have a good time. Perhaps it was the same for Yerin, but different aspects.

The two of you stepped up to the entrance of the girls dorms, meaning your night of innocent fun would be coming to an end. "Surprisingly, I've had a lot of fun tonight."

"Next time time you feel like you want to go on another adventure, call me."

"Is that your way of asking me for a date?" You questioned, cocking an eyebrow at the boy in front of you. He let out a breath before biting his lip and looking down quickly.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Absolutely not." You told him. You leaned forward, taking a daring move to press a soft kiss to his cheek before turning around to walk into the building. "Goodnight Jun."

As you walked towards your dorm, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of happiness. Perhaps Yerin was right after all. It's good to talk to new people every once in a while.

[kassies-take]

Hey Pretty Stranger

Summary: Kara always wanted to introduce her little sister, you, and Lena together due to the fact that she thinks you two would get along very well. There is finally a time when both you and Lena can make game night. Little does she or the rest of super-friends know that the two of you have already met, multiple times. 

A/n: Yes another BabyDanvers story, but y’all can’t deny that you wouldn’t want to be a Danvers and date the Goddess that is Lena Luthor. 

Warning: Secrecy 

Lena Luthor x Fem!Reader, Kara Danvers x Reader, Alex Danvers x Reader 

Word Count: 3099

A beam of sun and a grumble next to you, woke you up from your sleep. Your naked body tangled with another. Your arms wrapped around the woman’s pale but soft shoulders, as she laid on your breast. 

The brunette ran her hand up and down your torso, you didn’t know if she was awake or if she was doing it unconsciously. 

You sat at a bar just right out of National City. Your expedition in Peru didn’t end well, and here you were, home early and scribbling something on a napkin. 

“I don’t mean to spy but are you making a robot?”

“Exploration droid. Records what you find, holds various tools, hologram projector for those needed debriefs and maybe a healing drug if I can make it.” 

“And why are you telling me all this? Aren’t you afraid I might steal it?” 

“Definitely worth it, if a pretty stranger like you takes it. I should at least get one for free.”

You both smiled at each other, an obvious blush between the both of you. The silence was soon broken when a bartender stood in front of you two. 

“What can I get you ladies?” 

“Whiskey Sour, with bourbon whiskey.” You spoke in sync with the woman next to you before the two broke out into smiles again. 

Once the bartender prepared the drinks and moved to the next customers, the other decided to break the silence. 

“You drink a lot of Whiskey Sours after every expedition?” 

“Oh yes, nothing like whiskey after an adventure like Indy.” You joked. 

“I take it your adventures aren’t so, breathtaking?” 

“It’s not fun when you have a new crew every so often. And I haven’t seen friends or family in a year and a half.

“Well I’ll be happy to join your crew, need a break from city life anyways.” She sipped. “I’m-” 

“If it’s okay if we keep the names a secret?”

“Don’t want people knowing who you are?” She smirked.

“Well I don’t mind telling anyone my name but it keeps the whole mystery thing up. And people tend to judge based on the name. Someone always has something to say. Plus I would really like to know you from you and not anyone else.”

“I know how you feel.”

“And I won’t be tempted to Google you.” You smiled.

“So if family or work ever come up we’ll just get rid of the names too. Then you won’t be tempted to Google me.”

The two of you continued to flirt and talk till the morning, thus sparked a friendship between the CEO and the explorer.

It was never planned but the two met up every Friday for about a month. Each week spent with countless hours talking to each other. It didn’t get further beside talking and flirting but it was still worth it.

It was the third week in when things began to escalate a little.

“Hey pretty stranger,” you leaned against the counter top. “Hard whiskey today, hard day?”

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Business partners turned down an offer mainly because I’m a woman and a Lu- because of my last name.”

“That sucks... aren’t you the CEO?”

“Just because I’m a CEO does not mean I can spend money willy nilly.”

“You did not just say willy nilly.” You chuckled, the brunette’s lips curled into a smile. “Well I think it’s cute. After you of course.”

“Can I get your number?” Your eyes widened at the abrupt question. “We already know each other’s fears and secrets, what is your number going to change? I promise I won’t Google it.” She raised eyebrows, no matter how many times she did that your breath would still get caught in your throat.

“You’re not going to let me live that down are you.”

“Nope.”

“If I give you my number, will you let me take you on a date?”

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

“That was a very fast answer,” You chucked as the paler woman blushed. “How about you give me your phone, contact app opened and I’ll put my number in.”

Lena called you the moment you gave her phone back. “I had to check if it was real.”

“Now it just means I have to pick up your calls if we’re continuing the nameless.”

You put her contact as ‘Pretty Stranger’ still not knowing each other’s name.

“I’ll text you the information by the end of tonight.” She got up and grabbed her bag.

“You’re leaving now?”

“I’ve got planning to do,” She kisses your cheek before she purposely swayed her hips and walked away.

“I thought I was asking her out on a date.” You mumbled to yourself.

~~~~~

Your jaw dropped at the black pantsuit that hugged her curves in the right places. She strutted towards you with a smirk on her face. Her fingertips ghostly touched your chin and closed your mouth.

“You’ll catch flies, darling.” Her eyes landed on the single purple rose you were holding. “Is that for me?”

“Oh uh, yeah.” You gave her the flower as the heat rose to your face.

“Reservation for Kieran Thorul, party of two?” The hostess called out.

“That’s us,” the businesswoman took your hand.

“Kieran Thorul?”

“Don’t get your hopes up, you won’t be able to Google that. Fake name.”

“What are you thinking about, pretty stranger?” The voice disrupted your thoughts.

“Thinking about how we met. Is it wrong that I know so much about you but I still don’t know your name?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Her smile reached up to her emerald eyes. “You’re a beautiful woman, and we’ve talked for a little more than a full day since we met.”

“Are you counting hours?”

“What can I do, I’m a scientist and a businesswoman. All we do is count numbers.”

Your phone rang on the nightstand beside you.

“Cool expedition?”

The scientist lifted herself off you so you could reach your phone. The two of you readjusted to fit in each other’s arms.

“My oldest sister, actually.” You answered the phone knowing Alex would continue to call unless you picked up.

‘What’s up?’

‘You’re needed at Kara’s tonight.’

‘Why did something happen?’ You sat up as your company also received a call.

‘No, we just miss you. We know your expedition didn’t go the way it was planned, so we gave you time. It’s been almost two years since we saw you.’

‘I love exploring, sis.’

‘Maybe you can explore with the D.E.O. We could use someone like you on recon missions.’

‘I don’t know, you know the whole agency thing isn’t my gig.’

‘Think about it alright. Sister night tonight.’

‘Yeah, okay I’ll see you there.’

You and Lena ended the call around the same time.

“My sister reminded me of a family gathering I forgot about.”

“I’m needed at my friend’s place.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just nervous. It’s the first time in a while I’m hanging out with the group again.”

“Feel free to call me if you need to.”

You climbed up the stairs towards Kara’s place. You could feel your sister’s excitement when you reached her floor. Mainly because she ran down the hall just to hug you. The blond lifted you off the ground while the red haired stayed at the door.

“Not going to greet your baby sister?” You teased while you walked towards Kara’s place as Kara clung to your arm.

“No I will, just after this puppy moves away.” Alex forcefully pulled Kara off your arms.

“I want to show you something, we’re gonna keep this on the down side cause it’s not exactly finished.”

“You stole something?” Kara grasped.

“You have to tell me everything!” Alex jumped.

“I did not steal it, I made it.” You pulled out the napkin and placed it on the table.

“Wait hold up,” Alex took the napkin to inspect it. You thought she was admiring the droid blueprints but you were wrong. “Is that lipstick?”

“It was nice meeting you,” Kara read.

The two looked up at you and began to tease you. Kara with her big smile and Alex with raising both her eyebrows.

“Are you just going to ignore the droid?”

“Uh yeah! The droid can wait! Whose lipstick is this!” Kara beamed.

“More importantly did you get her number,” Alex smirked.

“She helped with the schematics.” You rubbed your neck.

“Her heart rate is up,” Kara mumbled before Alex pounced. You dodged and ran around before Kara tackled you.

Alex tilted your head up and gave you a cheeky smile.

“Is that a hickey?” Kara smiled.

“So something good did come from the expedition,” Alex smacked your shoulder.

“Get off me and I’ll tell you,” you lied, but it did get Kara and Alex off you.

The moment you stood up your phone rang on the counter. The three of you raced towards it, it wasn’t fair that Kara had super speed.

“Ooh Pretty Stranger! Alex catch!” Kara threw your phone towards Alex.

“Alex give it back, I’ll tell you about it after the call.” You asked slowly.

Alex tossed you your phone as you answered and walked towards Kara’s room. “Don’t eavesdrop!” You pointed at the two. “I’m serious.”

‘Hey.”

‘Is everything alright?’

‘My sisters are being ASSHOLES,’ you said loud enough so they could hear without super hearing.

You smiled at the chuckle on the other line.

‘I’m really nervous about seeing everyone again.’

‘If it makes you feel any better, I was going to show my sister the exploration droid and they saw your lipstick mark. And apparently I have a hickey on my neck.’

‘That sounds fun,’ you heard the smirk.

‘I was tackled by my sisters, not that fun. And if anything your friends should be nervous seeing you again. Who wouldn’t be, knowing they would see a goddess again.’

‘Is that why you were catching flies yesterday?’ She teased.

‘Guilty, but I recall you kissed me first.’

‘You were the one who showed your sisters the lipstick mark.’

‘I showed them the droid not the mark.’

‘This conversation definitely brought up my mood.’

‘Whenever I talk to you, that’s all that happens. I can’t stop smiling, and everything seems to just go away.’

‘It’s the same for me when I talk to you.’

“STOP FLIRTING AND GET OUT HERE!” Alex pounded on the door.

‘Seems like you are needed.’

‘If you ever need a breather, feel free to step out and call me. Your friends will understand if you need a breather.’

‘Okay I’ll call you later. I think you better go before someone breaks down that door of yours.

‘Bye, I’ll see you soon.’

You returned to the living room with J’onn and three new faces.

“You’re done with flirting great,” Alex dragged you to the kitchen.

“Kelly this is my baby sister (Y/n), (Y/n) this is my girlfriend Kelly.”

“Hi nice to meet you.” The dark skinned lady waved.

“Is Alex treating you okay? Do I need to beat her up?”

“Oh please, like you can.”

“You’ll be surprised.”

“I don’t mean to intrude on sisterly rivalry, but I’m Nia, I work with Kara at Catco.”

“(Y/n), the one turning down Alex’s job offer.”

“I calculate a 94% chance of you enjoying working with Director Danvers at the D.E.O. I’m Brainy 12th level intellect.”

“The other 6% is Alex yelling at me to do something.”

“That’s exactly it, I like this one.” Brainy smiled at Alex.

You pulled on Alex’s collar while everyone else headed towards the living room.

“I thought you said it was sister night?”

“If I told you it was game night would you have came?”

“No.”

“Exactly my point.”

It wasn’t game night unless Monopoly was in play. You groaned, you were never good at this game. But Monopoly Deal is different from Monopoly, in the sense that there is no paper money, plastic houses or hotels, the board or game pieces just the cards.

Two games were played before Trivia Pursuit was played. Brainy won the first round and you didn’t even know you won the second round with everyone sharing their day’s experience. When it came to geography and history it was easy, and after several rounds you needed one last piece to win and that was in the category of entertainment. Let’s just say because you spent your free time in the jungle you didn’t get the entertainment piece, and Brainy won.

Alex threw her pieces on the table, stomping to the kitchen to fill her glass.There was a knock at the door a little over an hour from the start of game night.

You were getting along with Kara’s and Alex’s friends, especially Kelly. That maybe had something to do with Kelly being a peoples person. Despite the interaction with the ‘pretty stranger’ you didn’t really like to interact with people you didn’t know, well actually you didn’t know how to interact with Kara’s and Alex’s friends. There was this certain expectation from them that you could live up to. J’onn recognized your tense shoulders and gave them a squeeze before you jumped up and headed towards the door behind Kara.

“Lena! It’s good to see you!” Kara hugged the brunette.

When they separated you made eye contact with her. You both froze, you could feel your heart pound while your cheeks heated up. Your breath once again caught, and she was only in jeans and a sweater this time.

“Lena, this is baby Danvers, (Y/n).”

“Hi...” you continued to stare until Kara cleared her throat. “I-uh would you like a drink?” You asked.

“After you get your drink, you can join us for Uno.”

You moved to the counter with Lena beside you.

“So (Y/n) Danvers huh. Would’ve never guessed that.”

“You’re Lena Luthor.”

“I hope that doesn’t change anything.”

“No! You’re incredible. I- oh my god I had sex with Lena Luthor!” You harshly whispered the last part.

“Well don’t tell the whole world now,” Lena smirked before she took the drink for your hands and walked towards the living room.

“(Y/n/n), are you gonna tell us about this pretty stranger?” Alex asked.

You glared at Alex while Lena smirked. You knew the Luthor had something planned, she always did.

“Pretty Stranger?” Lena raised her eyebrows.

“I met her at the bar. We talked for a whole day. She asked for my number. I asked her out. She arranged the date. She kissed me and I escalated things. Never got her name, we agreed to keep it a mystery so other people’s opinions wouldn’t affect how we think of each other.”

J’onn had a smug grin on his face as if he knew who it was. Honestly who are you fooling J’onn can read minds of course he knows.

“So you got her number, but you didn’t get her name? Can’t you just call her at the worst time possible and wait for her voicemail?” Alex sipped on her wine.

“Yes, Alex!” You said passively. “Why do you think I raced towards my phone earlier?”

“Because you didn’t want us to see it?” Alex shrugged.

You leaned back against the couch from the floor, near Lena’s legs.

“I’m in a screw it mood,” Alex stood up and walked towards the counter with all the phones.

“Alex, don’t do it.” Kelly sighed.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes widened.

Alex didn’t answer as she grabbed your phone and pressed on the home button. She frowned when your phone didn’t unlock.

“Did you delete my fingerprint?” Alex looked back at you.

“For this reason exactly. And before you ask Kara for hers, I deleted it too.”

“Hey! What did I do?” The Danvers crinkle obvious between her eyes.

“You always go through my phone, for my safety. I can take care of myself.”

Kara and Alex looked at you at the same time. Everyone knew the looks they were giving and parted like the Red Sea. You immediately stood up and braced for anything they might pull. Lena amused with the whole situation.

You were no match for the Director of the D.E.O or Supergirl. Kara sat on your back. Alex tried to pry open your hands, until she had Kara open it. Once your phone was unlocked they got up.

“You guys are annoying big sisters,” you huffed.

“It’s part of the job description,” Alex scrolled through your contacts.

“Plus you love us.” Kara smiled.

You glared at Lena while she shrugged, not really affected by the fact that her friends would catch her out. Alex called the number and waited a few seconds, the room had already quieted down in anticipation. But it amplified with a ringing at the other end of the room.

“Oh that might be a business partner.” Lena went to grab her phone. She answered the call and ended it immediately, then placed it against her ear as if she was talking to someone.

Alex wasn’t going to give up just yet, she called once again. Lena’s phone rang again which gave Superfriends a questioning look.

“I thought you were already on a call Lena?” Brainy asked.

Alex seemed to have connected the dots immediately as she stared at you and pulled out her own phone. She copied the pretty stranger’s number into her phone only for Lena’s contact to pop up.

“Wait when did you have time to go to the bar?” Alex asked Lena.

“What are you talking about,Alex?” Kara asked.

Nia made a happy face behind Alex’s back. Kelly gasped in happiness for Lena. J’onn didn’t say anything while Brainy and Kara were still trying to figure out what happened.

“Well now that the secret is out, I’ll just like to point out that you’re underestimating your sister’s strength to pin someone down or get out of one.” Lena teased.

You turned red, jumped up to grab your phone from Alex and walked towards Lena. “Hey can I talk to you, pretty stranger.” You called her out through gritted teeth.

You pulled Lena past the living room onto the fire escape and closed the door behind you.

“I did not see that coming,” Kara laughed before the rest of the Superfriends joined her.

“Let’s continue the game!” Nia grabbed her cards that she switched for all wild cards while no one was looking.

“Yeah hold up,” Alex walked towards the fire escape and opened the door. “Hey pretty stranger! Get your lips off my sister!”