#hell he was even willing to keep being treated like shit for less money

[unmanageably]

it's crazy cuz i'm sure in lacob's twisted brain he thought this was like a sweet thing to say but it truly reaffirms just how much they took him for granted and how they were banking on his kindness and love throughout like. all the horrible things they were doing to him lol. they were so so completely sure that he would never leave, knew how much he valued staying with one org, how much he valued retiring with steph. knew how much he loved the warriors. thought they could just like. have a horrible smear campaign against him for a year and a half, tear down his confidence, over and over again. counted on his love and loyalty to steph and the org to have him crawling back on his knees asking for pennies despite that. that's what this quote tells me. that lacob was shocked his master plan didn't work. that klay for once chose himself lol

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

Ok so for context. I don't know this guy. However, the clip came across my dash and I have a few things to say about what the lady here is saying. Things that bother me, and things that we should get out of the habit of teaching young girls. This is the clip: (Keep in mind my comments are fully about what the girl here is saying, not the guy. These are my own thoughts on this)

So I have SEVERAL thoughts about this. First is the consistent thing I've personally seen for a really long time and have not just experienced on my own but several of my friends have dealt with on all sides of this. TOO MANY WOMEN seem to want to date shitheads. That's not a joke, that's not a lie. That's not even an exaggeration. This is not one of those Incel, "OH well she only dates chads". No. This is a, women like men that abuse them, talk shit to them, mistreat them, and tear them down.

I have seen it for YEARS. My friends have seen it too. And you can go off and say, "Oh well it's because women want a confident man who can protect them." Have you ever heard the phrase, "The fury of a patient man", before? But the thing is it's not that. It's an attraction to violence and aggression. I have no friends personally who'd ever hit a woman, but some of my friends know guys like that. Hell, I KNOW guys like that. And if I ever caught them, I'd be in jail.

But this mentality is so broken. And it's not healthy. She strait up said, "I'm looking for Husband energy, and treating me properly and being kind isn't husband energy". So you want an abusive spouse then? But then she follows up with, "I can be manipulated".

So let me get this straight. (Preface, I'm not talking about ALL women here, just a large number of) A lot of women, want a kind man, who's also a bad boy, who's also always around, but who's never around, but who is away enough to make a lot of money, but will sacrifice his job for you, but if he does he's not a good provider. Is willing to give you the world, and WILL give you the world, but you don't actually want it and if he does provide you'll feel guilty about it, but also a man that shows his emotions, but also doesn't show his emotions. A man that will actually cry but when he does you view him as less of a man.

Frankly? Too many women have this mindset of consistent contradictions and because of it, men can't find meaningful relationships. And I'm not talking about the men that ONLY want to f*ck around. There are a lot of men out there who are looking for more than a hookup. And they've been looking for them for years. We are living in a pandemic of loneliness because dating has become a, "We are kinda just friends that f*ck sometimes but I don't want to get too attached" type of thing. Dating in your 20's should not feel like friends with benefits.

But more to the point with this lady in the video. WHY would you want to be manipulated? Because that's what you are alluding to. What's more, you are asking a guy you deemed nice, respectful, etc, and you want him to ignore your wishes that you worded out clearly? And YES I understand the whole, "Women like men that fight for them", mentality. The issue with that mentality is there is a subset of women that don't have a line in the sand. They will go out of their way to insult, offend, and sabotage their own relationships just to see how far their man is willing to go to fight for the relationship.

Frankly speaking? That's toxic as hell. For the past 15+ years we've told men, "When a woman says no, it means no and f*ck off". NOW you want them to both keep that message as a teaching, AND to also ignore it? Inconsistency like that is why men kill themselves at higher rates. It's a fight in which we literally can't win.

Again. This is NOT directed at all women. At all. I have mutuals, and people I follow that are happily taken and have been for a while. And I wish them all the best. But I can almost promise that none of them are like this woman. (I don't know all my follows a mutuals that well so a few might be like her. I don't really know). My point however stands. Please do not teach your daughters to be like this. And if you have friends that think like this. You need to tell them WHY it's a problem. Because they will be alone and unhappy. Or they will end up in an abusive relationship where they believe he's the only one that will ever love her, and "He doesn't really mean it, he's just correcting me".

Which sadly is something else I've had to grit and bare through. Because the conundrum is, "Call the cops, and the man potentially doesn't go to jail, and in the process I lose a friend and the ability to know that she's even still alive if the report get's tracked back to me, or let her go through what she is going through, knowing that it's wrong and that I could physically do something about it." Real life is shit sometimes in those situations. But that's more to my point. The way this girl is headed if she doesn't get some sense about her, is exactly into that kind of relationship.

[that-thing-that-feeling]

I have such a gripe on people treating the pictures vs. the public slutshaming because it did put Nancy in a vulnerable position like the pictures. People already forget, even outright deny, that. But yknow, I also think what Steve and his friends did, that can be argued it’s… a different kind of vulnerable position he put her in. So if people wanna treat the pictures like that on Twitter, I’ll treat the graffiti like so.

Using her whole ass first and last name? “Nancy ‘The Slut’ Wheeler”, in front of the theater that anyone and everyone in town, especially their peers, can see and walk by? I wonder how many other Nancy Wheelers are possibly in Hawkins to know who that’s talking about.

Now, we’re talking Hawkins, Indiana. Presumably conservative, 80s, Midwestern small town Hawkins, Indiana. Prob not a stretch to say word gets around quick when your school district has maybe a single middle school-high school pipeline.

King Steve’s popular. He has a reputation, he has other friends at the top of the high school social ladder willing to pull shit like vandalism without that much regard for consequence, he has some degree of influence and power, more than Nancy or Jonathan does. He has charisma and money. Perhaps I’m cynical, but I wouldn’t be surprised if more of their peers (especially guys) would sympathize more with Steve and his friends’ actions than whatever Nancy says.

Oh, and since it was one of Steve’s friends who had to be snooping around to find out the pictures, who’s to say his friends wouldn’t be nosy/everywhere else?

Ever heard the phrase “your reputation precedes you”? Combine that with being labelled as a slut with your whole ass name. Sexual harassment was still very much a thing in the 80s. And definitely no huge anti-bullying campaign compared to now. So idk, I don’t think it’s too far fetched to imagine Nancy being dismissed or harassed by others for being “easy”, even if she vehemently denies it.

The graffiti as a deliberate move to make Steve and Nancy’s problem the town’s problem airing shit like that on a public space. Again Steve, who already has been established to have a little more power than Nancy or Jonathan. AND the fact that the vandalism was deliberately meant to hurt Nancy.

Steve had the ability to at least try to put a stop to it at any stage. He simply chose not to.

Obviously Steve and Jonathan both made up from their shit actions and moved on, but I sure as hell am not gonna pretend that Steve’s was the equivalent of a little boy merely scribbling crayon on a living room wall like certain people seem to do. Like keep the same energy of accountability for your privileged, fandom-coddled fave then, or don’t bother being this nitpicky about Jonathan.

I mean tbc they’re not nitpicking; they’ve decided to accuse Jonathan of SA in order to defend Steve’s actions in s1, and then say if you like Jonathan you’re invalidating SA victims. Not considering or caring about the fact that there are fans of Jonathan who are also SA victims, and that SA shouldn’t be used over ships or characters like this when it’s not what even took place.

Idk how much Steve vs. Jonathan discourse I can do bc I think it’s all a mess—they fucked up so badly (Jonathan taking non-consensual pictures of Nancy in her bra, Steve non-consensually peeping through her window and then participating in publically slut shaming her). They apologized and change, but fans still keep coming back to only the Jonathan part saying it’s ignored, when it’s not, and doing it this time in a really messed up way.

But yeah publically slut shaming Nancy Wheeler for the whole town to see and for it to spread is obviously horrendous and it’s weird as hell to downplay it. It’s something that’s been discussed way less or even hardly at all (even though, as you say, there are a lot of things about it that could/should be discussed).

[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.

[dweetwise]

since i already did the killers, here’s the survivors reacting to their newest addition!

Yun-Jin & survivors headcanons

Dwight tries not to judge people too quickly, as his hands aren't exactly clean either. He doesn't really care what Yun-Jin did before, the problem is that she only looks after herself in trials. When his numerous attempts at friendly advice fall on deaf ears because she clearly doesn't regard him as a leader, Dwight kind of gives up on and hopes that she might come around one day.

Meg is instantly wary of Yun-Jin, her story not painting the producer in a good light at all. She’ll "accidentally” lead the killer to Yun-Jin in trials, doubly so if they're going against the Trickster, seeing it as fitting punishment for someone willing to turn to a blind eye to the atrocities the idol committed.

Claudette always tries to see the best in people, but after Yun-Jin leaves her to die on hook several times, the botanist realizes her trust in the other woman might be misplaced. Her own morals refuse to let her treat Yun-Jin different from the others, but it makes Claudette sad to know the producer most likely wouldn’t return the favor.

Jake is downright hostile, as the cutthroat nature of the business world was one of the main reasons he put his old life behind him. He's annoyed when some of the others try to force him to make friends with Yun-Jin just because they happened to be born in the same country.

Nea is both intrigued and cautious, fond of Yun-Jin's unapologetic attitude but not a fan of the way she essentially sold her soul to be a corporate pawn. She teaches the woman how to be a pain in the ass to any killer, but usually keeps her distance since Yun-Jin is clearly only looking after herself and Nea is not about to be caught in a bad spot without back-up.

Laurie is pissed. Upon hearing about the producer's connection to the Trickster, she goes off, accusing Yun-Jin of creating a murderer. Some of the others intervene—though don't necessarily disagree—but Laurie doesn’t budge on her stance.

Ace isn't blind to the parallels between his and Yun-Jin’s lives, having to play dirty in order to escape their less fortunate upbringings. He admires her extravagant fashion sense and always makes sure to compliment her outfits, happy to notice it makes her hold her head up higher after a rough trial.

Bill writes her off as a stuck-up rich kid that never had to face hardships, but is proven severely wrong when Yun-Jin shows to fare well even without the comfort of her penthouse. When he sees her making a fire and she mentions she had to learn how to keep warm when their heat was shut off, the contempt is gradually replaced by respect.

Feng is also somewhat of a lone wolf and doesn't care that Yun-Jin cares mostly about self-preservation. She'll tell the woman that they won't have any problems as long as she stays out of Feng’s way in trials. The two end up working well together, exchanging strategies on the best ways to split up and rush generators.

David isn't impressed by the producer’s appearance, thinking she's a spoiled brat that will throw a tantrum as soon as she chips a nail. Will tease her in trials, scoffing “Careful ya don't get blood on yer fancy jacket, princess”. She never takes the bait, instead opting to survive to the end and leave David to die on his first hook, giving him the finger from the safety of the exit gate. David sees it as a playful rivalry, though in reality the woman probably hates his guts.

Quentin is familiar with the guilt of creating a monster and instead of being angry at Yun-Jin, claims that this is her chance to make it right. He gets her to tell them everything she knows about the Trickster that might benefit them in trials. He's not that bothered by her refusal to work as a team, knowing it won't be long before she realizes she has to help others if she wants to survive.

Tapp has some very unfortunate flashbacks to his last case before he died, a psychopath and his accomplices making his life a living hell. And that's what he sees Yun-Jin as; an accomplice and enabler of the Trickster. He doesn't bother to hide his distrust, keeping a sharp eye on the woman as if expecting her to turn against them at any second.

Kate is initially put off by Yun-Jin's stuck-up attitude, having been forced to deal with her fair share of money-hungry producers. However, when they slowly get to know each other and the Korean mentions her own buried aspirations of being a musician, Kate recognizes their similarities; both of them just wanted to share their music with the world.

Adam attempts to make hesitant small talk about Seoul, trying to find common ground. However, when Yun-Jin only talks about Michelin-star restaurants and luxurious boutiques, Adam resigns himself to the fact that the woman has little interest in anything not revolving around money or music.

Jeff is a firm believer in live and let live and doesn't have anything against Yun-Jin despite the woman being his polar opposite in almost every way. He can tell the producer is surprised every time he strikes up casual conversation or offers to heal her in a trial, clearly not used to kindness from a stranger.

Jane is no stranger to being in the spotlight and doesn't approve of Yun-Jin's corrupt methods of navigating fame. She’s persistent in trying to get through to the producer, going out of her way to help the other in the hope that Yun-Jin will one day do the same.

Ash makes some good-natured jokes that Yun-Jin looks fancy compared to the rest of them. He doesn't care that some of the others think she's a bad person, he admires her gutsy attitude and doesn't treat her any different than others, one of the few who happily trade his life for hers in trials.

Nancy isn't as quick as most of the others to judge Yun-Jin. She's curious to know the whole story, and eventually understands why Yun-Jin made the decisions she did. They’re on neutral terms and occasionally exchange stories of their lives before, but Nancy swiftly learns that when they’re in a trial together, it’s every woman for herself.

Steve is a little starstruck, the K-pop producer’s extravagant appearance a far cry from the monotony of his small town. He can't help but try to impress her, doing stupid tricks in trials and pestering her about whether she thinks he would ever have a shot at stardom. As soon as he hears her artist name, he insists on addressing her as Magnum Opus, and even manages to get a smile for his efforts.

Yui doesn't give two shits about the woman’s questionable morals, instead thinking Yun-Jin is a badass for managing to do so well for herself against all odds. She's quick to welcome the producer to their group, and when questioned by the others, says that it would take a lot more than that for her to throw away the concept of sisterhood.

Zarina asks a lot of questions, curious about Yun-Jin's connection to the Trickster. It quickly becomes apparent that their morals clash horribly, and Zarina is appalled at the way the woman threw away integrity for corporate greed. She doesn’t trust Yun-Jins promises about making the killer pay, knowing people don’t change overnight.

Cheryl tries to give the benefit of the doubt, but as soon as Yun-Jin tries to boss her around in a trial, she withdraws into her shell. Cheryl has unresolved issues with women in power and isn't about to let Yun-Jin use her as a pawn in whatever game she's playing.

Felix can tell at first glance that he won't get along with the woman. Yun-Jin's gaudy outfits and arrogant attitude scream new money, reminding him of difficult clients he hated working with. He respects her drive for her job, but that's where their similarities end.

Élodie, having the freshest memory of what it's like to be the newest arrival in this terrifying realm, is the first to befriend Yun-Jin. Though they're from completely different worlds, both are mature enough to recognize the other's struggles, gradually forming a hesitant friendship.

[medical-gal]

Death by a thousand cuts

I have been thinking about writing this for months now. Even before I decided to quit the residency at my previous job.

COVID has been kicking our ass, true, but that was (is) true for most healthcare providers all around the world.

No, my struggle started a bit before that actually.

First some background, I have been working at one of the biggest most famous ID clinics in central Europe. The clinic is in a different country than I am originally from so there was a bit of cultural accommodating at the begging. But we were a big group of ID interns/residents/fellows and specialists.

I don't actually remember that much from my first year working there. And I couldn't figure out why, but then I read in some study that when u experience a high dose of stress and/or sleep deprivation for a long time, your brain kinda stopps being able to transcribe short term memory into a long term.

I was working 100hours/week, sometimes less, sometimes more. After a year and a half, when the last half I worked in the ID ER for five months, I always stayed after working 24 hours, sometimes over 36hours, and I would see and treat 70ish patients. Nobody from the older docs would help me out, nobody from other interns either bc usually they would have their own kind of hell to take care of.

The fact that basically, inexperienced doctors are taking care of patients never really phased my ex-boss. Her mantra was that if there was a problem that you cannot resolve, you can call her and she would advise you. Which most of the time was true, I must say that.

But we all have been young docs, barely out of our medical school garments, and sometimes as it happened, we could not recognize there IS a problem that maybe needs a more experienced opinion.

I am often confronted with this idea or more like a culture, of pretending that once you are an MD you don't need help and asking for it is a kind of weakness and that then you are forever on the list of WEAKLINGS.

And let me say this only once.

That's absolute bullshit.

Anyway, the first time I decided to quit I worked there for about a year and a half, I went for a long-expected holiday, I took three weeks off, had interviews and talked with my bf about my options.

Second thing...my man, bless his beard, would support me no matter what. He is almost 10 years older than me, so he has more work experience and I find it reassuring to discuss stuff like this with him bc I know he will not sugarcoat it. He said that I should dig my heels in and last at least one more year till the end of my "internship". As a "resident" who worked at this specific department, I wouldn't have a problem finding another job. We r basically the equivalent of a french legion of medical professionals (when u work in this specific department and everyone knows it, I will come back to that later).

So I took his advice. Thankfully as a part of our training, one of those parts is a year-long internship at the internal medicine department, which I did shortly after we had that conversation and guys, that was a revelation of how medicine and just...work and life can be experienced. There were enough docs for a floor, an attending who had the time to manage and advise us. I´ve grown that year as a doc so much. Other internships were mandatory so I could have become (equivalent of) a resident, and it was a general surgery, anesthesiology, radiology, microbiology etc. But I did them all and became a resident.

The moment I came back to our clinic, my boss would put me in our outpatient department. Which I have never worked on before. The head of the department has quit a few months before, and I had no idea what to do there, bc it's a very different type work. The only thing my boss told me when I spoke of my concerns were "you will learn".

Thankfully the previous head of the department was a good friend of mine and she would always answer my questions and requests. Suddenly I no longer had to deal with the hectic life of an ID floor or ER, no sepsis, meningitis, etc.

Most of my patients were the chronic type...Lyme, chlamydia, mycoplasma... let's say it literally drained the life out of me. But I managed. Also, I started to work for their outpatient office which takes care of patients with chronic hepatatis. That I enjoyed more.

I also started to dip my toes in vaccinology, either planned like for travel but I started to be more interested in preventive care in the immunocompromised and my own phantasmagoria was to make a palliative care team in our hospital. Bc, we had none. And then a wonderful thing happened, other docs, older experienced, great at their work, started to refer their patients to me specifically.

There were more examples of the utter a complete FUCK U(s) which were kindly provided either by the system or by the head of the department or the hospital.

Then covid hit and the shit hit the interstellar space.

I still can't make myself remember the first few months bc it actually causes me to go into a rage fit, and honestly, I am done with that kind of negativity.

I hold out for a year. Year of such shitty treatment from the chief and our hospital head. No thank you- s or you are doing a good job or we r all on the same ship.

No.

People will say that I quit bc of the money. And that's not true, tho it did irk me a bit. All the other ID specialists working at different hospitals would get covid bonuses every month. We got jack shit. Again, the best biggest most know ID clinic. We were the first and oftern the ONLY ones who would test for/diagnose/hospitalize/treat a patient who had covid FOR MONTHS in the beginning.

I mean, the medical community is small, the ID community even smaller so yes, we were able to compare and contrast the work at different ID departments in other hospitals bc our friends worked there. And all of them would go speechless when they would hear from us what we were living thru.

At one point at the beginning of the pandemic, ALL the ambulances would go thru our ER department and we were supposed to decide where the patient should go.

AN EXAMPLE

Ambulance with a woman who has known colon cancer, had a fever, stomach as a rock and is projectile vomiting. I was supposed to decide where she should go and the surgeon would be super pissed when I said that I don't think she has COVID but without PCR I can't be sure but I think there is a bigger pressing issue. I remember him saying:

"well if anyone else gets infected at our department and dies, it's on you."

fun.

There were other examples of seriously stressful episodes which I and my coworkers lived thru, for which we were not trained for, advised, or properly supervised. At a certain point, I started to take anxiolytics before and during my all-nighters bc I didn't know what I would do with all that stress which was so callously shat on me and my coworkers.

For a few months, I stopped working nights, only thru the mercy of my coworkers who saw how exhausted I was and would take my shifts.

Anyway, after only two months I had to start working nights bc I needed the money. The basic pay for docs was just not enough without the extra from night shifts. Talk about exploiting.

The moment however when I decided to QUIT, when I was DONE, when I actually heard my heart break, was the moment at the end of the previous year. They decided to start vaccinating in our tiny small vaccination centre. Let's say a "shit storm" brewing is the light version of events that ensued.

But basically, as I was trying to discuss with my boss that we are all exhausted, that this wave is not slowing down and that throwing more work at us, the docs and nurses and other staff, who are overworked, is not a good idea,

What she basically said to me is that who says things like that is lazy and that if she can handle it everyone must be also.

The thing is..most of us were at the bring. Some would handle it with casual and calous sex, drugs (legal or not), a bottle of wine before sleep. A coworker ended up with antipsychotics.

But u know,

we were all lazy apperently.

I realized there is no way out of this other than quitting. I could not continue being so tired and sad all the time. I took two weeks off, really thought about it. Had diarrhoea and nausea for a week as I realized I will have to quit :D

On a Monday I came back, handed in my notice. Basically what she told me and how she reacted made me realized how right the decision was.

I had to stay there for another three months bc that's the law, but my mood changed significantly.

I got another job in a smaller ID department, working with amazingly kind people, but that's another story.

But that was the only interview I actually looked for and did. I, however, did get several job offers from different types of medicine. From heads of different departments in my old hospital to smaller general medicine chain offices who are looking for ID specialists, to insurance companies.

Like I said, french legion.

Or Runway and your boss is Miranda Pristley. Once u survive that, u survive anything.

But at my old work they would keep hitting you with wave after wave of passive agressive comments about how if u quit, u wont be able to find anything as"prestigious" as this.

There were many other exmaples of a shitty and questionable situations which were treated as "normal" but there is not point on getting on that rage train.

Contrary as it might seem, I am greatful I got to live thru this, good and bad, bc now I know what I am and am not willing to sacrifice for a job. No matter how much I might love it.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Long & Lost

Pairing: Leone Abbacchio x Reader

Warnings: yandere-ish Abbacchio, obsession, stalking, mentions of violence, allusion to kidnapping and forced marriage.

Words: 5445.

Summary: You needed to call him, you told yourself firmly and grabbed the phone, trying to stay determined. You needed to at least figure out if Abbacchio were alive and well. In the end, nobody forced you to tell him he had a son in that very moment, right? You'd tell him if he proved he deserved to know.

_______________________

Holding a crumpled piece of paper with Libeccio's number on it in your hand, you looked at the phone in front of you and sighed, unsure what to do. You'd heard Abbacchio was seen in that restaurant multiple times, so there really was a chance of you finally finding him, but you didn't know if you needed it that desperately. You knew what he had been through, and you doubted there was anything left of the man you loved once. But then you glanced at the photo of you little son on your desk and thought that your child deserved to have a chance to know his father - that is, if Leone would be willing to see his own child. Otherwise you'd have to come up with some sad story of your lovely boyfriend dying before he could get to know his son just like your mother advised you multiple times.

You little boy Dante was two years old now, and despite all the hardships related to raising him on your own, Dante still was your joy and pride. You realized you were pregnant almost right after Leone broke up with you: that time you were just a student with little to no means of support, and it hit you hard but you decided to keep your child, nevertheless. You couldn't bring yourself to get rid of him, and now you were thankful to that innocent young girl for the decision she made. Dante was your world.

But the older he got, the more you thought what would happen when one day he would ask you where's his dad. All children have a dad, haven't they? Then he should have one, too. You feared that moment, knowing you barely could tell your son the truth: your father doesn't even know about your existence.

By the time you decided to keep your child, Abbacchio already got himself in troubles, getting mixed up with some street thugs. You heard his partner even died because Leone couldn't pull the trigger, afraid those thugs gonna report him to police. Was it all true? You wanted to know it so desperately you went to see him in a detention facility, but Abbacchio you met weren't his old self. He was just a shadow of a man he'd been once, and despite all your efforts he remained broken, silently awaiting for the court to give him the punishment he deserved. You realized you were going to raise your child all alone, but it didn't deter you. In fact, when Leone finally got out, you even tried contacting him again and sending him some money until he figured things out. Of course, when you found out he spent all those money on cheap wine, you stopped doing it - your baby needed you more than him. After that you dropped all your attempts to keep in contact with the father of your child, and he had never learnt about Dante. It's for the best, your mother were telling you over and over again. A child doesn't need a dad who can't take care of himself, less of his family. Besides, was Abbacchio even as good as you imagined him to be? He was as corrupted as all those cops he hated so much while being in a police academy, your mother reminded you. Maybe she was right.

Dropping out of school to provide for your son, you had been through six kinds of hell in the last three years. There wasn't a job you hadn't done: scrubbing floors, delivering pizza, running errands for wealthy families, selling flowers and cheap makeup... and on top of it you had to take care of your child having no knowledge how to do it properly. Thankfully, your mother was there to give you a hand, and you were grateful for her help even if she had been scolding all the time for ruining your life so early. Did you know how hard it would be for you to get married, she asked you all the time while you were getting home late at night, tired to death. Do you realize people are calling you rotten behind your back because your son has no father, she kept saying over and over again trying to make you guilty, but you learnt not to listen. What's done is done. Who cares what people say if they will find a reason to humiliate you one way or the other?

You kept working, changing jobs and slowly getting a better salary, finding yourself a better place: you were now working as a manager in a candy store, its owners a nice married couple old enough to be your grandparents. You earned enough to live decently, and now you could afford buying your son new clothes instead of asking your friends and acquaintances for something their own kids and brothers wore once. Signora Russo, the one who was in charge of the store, treated you kindly, ready to give you some time off if Dante needed to be taken to doctor or somewhere else important. You also worked close to home, and if anything happened you could always storm off, telling the store clerk you'd be gone for a half an hour or so.

Life was good to you, you thought, your baby's bright smile making you feel much better in an instant. Dante had Leone's eyes, his hair of the very same shade.

You needed to call him, you told yourself firmly and grabbed the phone, trying to stay determined. You needed to at least figure out if Abbacchio were alive and well. In the end, nobody forced you to tell him he had a son in that very moment, right? You'd tell him if he proved he deserved to know.

"I'm looking for Leone Abbacchio." You said to the man on the other end of that phone, shivering from the thought you might really hear him the next minute. Shit, you really hoped he wasn't there.

"What is your name, Signora?" The stranger asked politely, and you were ready to drop the phone and run to the other room where your son was already laying asleep in his tiny bed,

Clenching your teeth, you told the man your name. Was Abbacchio really there? You ended up chewing phone's wire, that's how nervous you were, thinking what you were going to say and how he might react. Was he still bitter? Did he finally sort things out for himself? Did he stopped drinking? Was he going to accuse of not supporting him during his worst years?

"He is coming, Signora." The stranger told you calmly, and you felt your heart dropping somewhere to your stomach. Dio Mio, Leone was there. Those rumors were true, he was really there!

But before you mentally prepared yourself, you heard his low voice on the other side of the phone, his tone icy cold as if he wanted to never hear from you again. "Abbacchio."

You slowly got down on your chair with your palm rubbing your forehead tiredly. It seemed he was that very same Abbacchio who walked out the prison a couple of years ago, just a bit more sober this time. Funny, you thought things had changed for him, didn't you? You believed in people too much, that's what both your mother and Signora Russo would say, exchanging glances.

"Hi." You told him quietly, your eyes on the framed photo of your smiling son. "Haven't heard from you for a long time, Leone."

He let out a sound of irritation you knew a little too well, and you're very much aware he thought you're a traitor who left him behind when it had been him who broke up with you years ago. That was his problem, thinking people around had always owned him something, easily forgetting all the good things that were done for him once. You realized you were thinking about the same prior to a break up, wondering if your relationships were going to last if Abbacchio was going to behave the same way.

"What do you want? I don't have much time for you." He snorted, and despite you being so far from him during all that time, it still hurt so bad you clenched the phone in your hand, your eyes almost swelling with tears at his words. Did he felt better hurting you? You bet he did, having his revenge over someone who had nothing to do with him choosing his path. "Bucciarati's waiting for me, so be quick."

Bucciarati. He was referring to the man who had been seen with him, but you hoped it was just a rumor, too. You were well aware who Bucciarati was: all delivery guys and girls knew him and many other men with whom you shouldn't get mixed up. Passione was a power to reckon with even if you were talking about some low profile gangster who just got into a gang.

So, all those rumors were true. Abbacchio changed his side completely and joined mafia just like many other broken men before him. The next moment you realized how futile were your attempts to unite what you called a family in your dreams: were you really trying to let your child meet his father, a damn criminal who was probably murdering other people? Selling drugs? Beating the shit out of Passione's debtors? That was the man you wanted to entrust your beloved child?

"Sorry for bother." You said calmly, letting out a phone's wire you were getting close to torn into pieces. "I just wanted to know how you were."

"I'm good. Thanks for your concern." The man said before hanging up, and you staid frozen in your chair, listening to a dial tone. You were both sad and relieved at the same time, thinking how you had just saved your boy from so many troubles that would definitely arise if Leone knew he had a son. No, Dante didn't deserve a father like this. It wasn't his fault Abbacchio was long gone, and you weren't gonna spoil your child's life even if people would continue whispering your son was someone's bastard.

__________________

You didn't know the man got suspicious after your call, thinking you were up to something: he thought as low of you as of anyone he met prior to his encounter with Bucciarati. In Abbacchio's mind you all had betrayed him when he needed you the most, quickly disregarding your attempts to help him stay afloat with little money you had been sending him. Being extremely bitter, he felt the urge to dig up something about you, hoping you were in such deep shit you needed a help of a man like him. He was sure you were well-aware of his change of occupation, and it brought him a twisted satisfaction thinking of you whoring to him for his help. The only thing he found odd was that you didn't voice your plea. Did you get so scared of him you decided not to ask him for a favor? Abbacchio desperately wanted to know.

Finding out where you worked was an easy thing, and soon Abbacchio knew who you were now and how much you earned. It surprised him that you worked in a candy store: Leone remembered you were preparing to become a teacher. Did you drop out of university? He discovered you did. It was odd to him, remembering how eager you were to study. Why?

He found out the reason when he saw you walking with your baby boy during the weekend, Dante's tiny arm in yours as he was hurrying to the toy store window, then pressing his palms to the glace and watching a beautiful red toy train moving behind the window. The boy had his hair and his eyes. It wasn't hard to realize whose son that cheerful little boy was.

Abbacchio admitted with shame he wasn't prepared to it, quickly getting away as far as he could as if he couldn't look at the face of his own child. He had never thought something like that was possible: him? Being a father? Sure, Abbacchio wasn't a virgin, but the thought of someone having his child had never crossed his mind. At first he even tried thinking the child couldn't be his: how old the boy was? Wasn't he too young to be his son? By the time he was born Abbacchio had already been imprisoned.

"Doesn't mean she couldn't get pregnant while we still dated." He thought with shame, finding out Dante's birth date and realizing it was very much the reality.

Besides, his boy looked so much like him it was silly to pretend Dante wasn't Abbacchio's son. A part of him instantly got enraged with your decision to raise the boy on your own, not even letting his father know about his existence, but the man quickly cooled down, perfectly understanding why a drunkard he was then wouldn't make a good parent. You did nothing wrong. You even sent him money while you needed them much more than him.

Abbacchio still couldn't understand why you didn't abort an illegitimate child you weren't ready to bring up on your own - he wouldn't judge you if you did. You had been so young, almost a child yourself, barely able to take care of your own life while you had to provide for your son now. Your family wasn't rich, and he could imagine how much you struggled to stay afloat. Still, you kept your baby, your little boy you had been taking such a good care of: Abbacchio spied on you, stalking you while you walked with Dante or played outside, watching through your windows how you cooked and read him fairytales and tucked him to sleep. You were a good mother.

When Leone thought the only reason you called him was to let him know he had a son, he was ready to bang his head against a concrete wall. He knew why you ended up keeping quiet: he failed the test, talking to you as if he hated you to death and then mentioning Bucciarati's name. Bruno had been well-known in your area, and now you knew Abbacchio became a gangster. No mother would entrust her child to someone like him, and it had been his fault all alone, he realized that.

But he just couldn't leave you and his child without even acknowledging he knew he had a son. Even if Abbacchio wouldn't be the best father, he could still try his best: after Giorno became the next Don, he made Bucciarati's gang his own Unità Speciale, and Abbacchio was now a respected member of Passione with a fat wallet. With his help you could afford much more, moving to a more comfortable place, having better food and clothes, getting Dante to a better school once he grew up a bit. In the end, Leone could protect the both of you much better than you, just a simple woman who had to raise her son in a city full of criminals. He wasn't a drunkard with no goal but to drown out his day anymore.

That's why one day he showed up near the building where you lived, watching your mother taking her grandson and leading him to the apartment where you all lived while you hurried to the store to buy some food. He barely stopped himself from calling your mother, eager to take his boy in his hands, see his smile and chubby cheeks, ruffle his light grey hair and hear him laughing. No, Leone had to talk to you first, and it wasn't going to be easy.

Once you came back, a grocery bag in your hand, your face tired, he was waiting for you near a bench, and you flinched upon seeing him, your eyes getting wide. You surely didn't expect him to be there, least to give you something that almost looked like a smile.

Oh, you had a bad feeling about all that. Your hateful ex wouldn't just show up for no reason, you knew.

"Hello." He said surprisingly politely, and you started nervously chewing your lips. What did he want?

"Hello, Leone." You tried to keep your tone neutral to appear calm. "Good to see you looking well. Sorry, I'm in a rush, let's talk some other time."

Continuing to walk, you did your best passing him to hide in the hall of the building where you lived, but no one could brush off Abbacchio easily.

"I know." He said loudly as if he were afraid you would disappear before talking to him, almost ready to grab your arm but staying on his place when you stopped. "I know about him. About my son."

"He is my son." You roared like a lion, your hands clenched into fists when you turned your head to your former lover, but instead of getting intimidated or irritated the man felt proud: you were the best mother for his child Abbacchio could wish for.

"Of course."

There was no threat in his voice, and you relaxed a little, taking a deep breath and coming closer to the man still waiting for you near the bench. You didn't want to start a war, not with a man of Passione, unless Leone was going to take Dante away from you. You had to figure out what Abbacchio wanted.

"I haven't come here to steal the boy from you." He said, and you exhaled loudly, your palms shaking lightly. "I know you're a good mother."

You wanted to feel relieved, but something on the back of your mind told you Abbacchio wasn't there to compliment you and go away. He wanted something. What? Even if he knew you gave birth to his child, he had little to do with him now.

"I am." You admitted, unwilling to pretend to be polite anymore and hoping you'd get things sorted out before your mother started worrying about you. "Leone, what do you want?"

Your voice sounded harsh, and the man straigthen his back, getting closer to you: Abbacchio knew it wasn't going to be easy, but it wasn't your fault you wanted your child to be safe, thinking his father was a threat to him. It was up to Abbacchio to prove you he wasn't, eager to keep his boy safe and sound.

"Please, let me see him." He asked you, and you heard a plea in his voice. You couldn't remember when was the last time it happened. "I know what you think of me, and you're right about many things, but I want my child to know me."

"And what is he going to do with this knowledge?" You narrowed your eyes at your ex-boyfriend, rage boiling deep inside your chest. "What's it to Dante?"

"I will take care of him. And you."

Smirking, you shook your head, unable to believe him. Look, that son of a bitch was being so sweet to you now, pretending like meddling with his son's life wasn't a question of his enormous ego, that's what you thought. Did he really imagine you'd let him get close to Dante after you found out who he became?

"We don't need your help, thank you very much." You snorted, your fists clenched so tight it hurt you, nails digging into the skin.

"Then why did you call?"

Your eyes were getting wet as you chewed your lips to pieces, eating your lipstick and trying not to show the man your crying face. Abbacchio didn't deserve to see you like this. Of course, you shouldn't have called him. You desire to make things right only brought you more problems, as usual. It was even worse since now it concerned not only you but your baby, too. Dio Mio, why did you do it? Why did you try to talk to Abbacchio before finding out what he was doing now?

"To see if you got better." You said sarcastically, shaking your head in disbelief. "I thought I might tell you that you have a son, you know, if you sorted things out for yourself."

"I did." His voice sounded louder again when the man was getting emotional, both desperation and anger on his face. "I don't have an issue with drinking anymore. I don't even remember the last time I got drunk."

Taking a step back when he was dangerously close to you, you snorted, "Yeah, you just kill people now. Being a mafia's guard dog is so much better than being an alcoholic."

You could see Abbacchio getting furious, but you couldn't back down now when he was obviously determined to meet Dante despite all your warnings. Had he thought what it meant to be a son of a gangster? Did he imagine what his boy would have to go through just because his father belonged with Passione? You didn't care about his money or what Leone could give you, you were able to provide for Dante yourself. You couldn't, however, protect him against criminals who would come after him and you to have their revenge against Abbacchio. You'd have to watch your back all the time, but they would find a way to get to you, you were sure of it. Why didn't Abbacchio think about that? Was he so full of himself he thought he could protect your son at all costs?

Of course, it was his enormous ego again.

"I'm not gonna pretend my job has nothing to do with murder, but I'm not some Passione soldato anymore. I work directly for the new Don, and nobody gonna touch you and Dante once people know."

"Leone, please stop. I watched two delivery guys getting shot by men of Passione." You could barely hold your tears. "Don't you tell me my boy will grow up knowing that's what his dad is doing for life. Leave him alone for his own good! Let me give him a story about his policeman father getting fatally shot while on duty, and he will know his father was a hero."

Watching your eyes swelling with tears, the man in front of let out a sigh: he still couldn't watch you cry despite spending years apart. He fought the urge to come closer and touch your cheek, offering you some comfort, but he realized you would brush him off, not wanting the long lost intimacy. You weren't his beloved. Funny enough, he broke up with you himself, although now Abbacchio couldn't even remember why.

"He can have a true father instead of some fake legend." The man whispered, watching tears finally streaming down your cheeks.

"Give him a privilege to stay far away from this filth." Even though you kept wiping your face with the back of your palm, tears didn't stop falling, leaving dark spots on your pretty blue blouse. "Please, Leone. We both pay our experiences on our skin, but he isn't at fault just because he was born to us. Please... give him a chance to become a good man."

Abbacchio realized he wasn't able to get his way with you after what you had said. He just couldn't, knowing you were right. His son didn't deserve this.

_____________________

From that day he left you alone just as he had promised. Sometimes you got gifts with no notes, but you didn't need them, knowing where they came from: Abbacchio sent Dante expensive toys, the first one being that very same red train your boy wanted so much; then there were clothes, pretty little shoes, once you even got a new bed for him. Some stuff was for you, like that box of chocolate you loved once or a pair of golden earrings you had never worn. You wished he didn't send you anything at all, but receiving gifts from time to time was still better than having Leone at your door, willing to take your son away from you. Anyway, it wasn't Abbacchio himself delivering those things. No one was gonna make a hustle over something so inconsiderable, that's what you thought.

Silly you, thinking his enemies were stupid enough they couldn't trace those little gifts Leone had been sending someone over and over again. It was so much out of his character it was obvious the person had been important to him, and once they found out it was a young woman with a child who looked so much like him, it wasn't a secret anymore.

As the days passed, nothing changing in your life drastically, you had finally relaxed, thinking of taking a vacation and leaving the town for a week or two; your mother would certainly appreciated it after all this time. You were walking down the street with Dante's hand in yours when it all happened, a large white van stopping near you, a man getting out of it so quickly you had no time to react, looking at the gun he was covering with a newspaper.

"Get in there." The stranger growled, his eyes darting towards your baby boy. "Him too."

Freezing at your spot, you grabbed Dante's hand so hard he was going to cry, watching you and some man he didn't recognize staring at each other intensely. You wanted to shout, yell loudly so the whole street would hear you, but you were staring at the black gun's muzzle, and everything inside you got cold from the thought that man would shoot without a second thought, throwing your child inside the van once he'd be done with you. You certainly weren't immortal to withstand a few bullets from such distance.

You got inside without a word, holding Dante in your hands and trying to see in the darkness: the van had no windows on the back, and everything there was pitch black. It didn't matter, though, as once you turned up inside somebody had injected a syringe deep into your neck, and the world turned black in a couple of seconds, your baby's scream ringing in your ears.

Your poor little boy. You knew one day it would happen to him even if Abbacchio stayed away from the two of you.

By the time you woke up in some unknown place on a large, comfortable bed, it had already been late night, the moon shining bright in the night sky. You tried getting up immediately, but the dull headache made you groan and almost fell down the floor before somebody's strong arms caught you, carefully placing you back on the bed. You saw Abbacchio's worried face inches from yours, his brows furrowed as he watched you, afraid you might be in pain.

"Are you alright?" He managed to say, but you didn't bother answering him, your hand grabbing his as you tried getting up again only to be pressed into bed.

"Where's Dante?" Your voice sounded hoarse. "Where's he?!"

You remembered what had happened even despite that headache: a street, a van, the man with a gun wrapped in a newspaper, the lack of light on the backseat. Somebody had kidnapped your son and you, and nothing was making you go more mad than the absence of your baby, probably brought God knew where by the criminals. Shit, what had they done to him?!

"Calm down." Abbacchio's voice was both caring and strict as he clenched your wrists, pinning you to bed. "You will wake him up if you scream."

"Is he here? Is he here?" You kept asking, your body shaking from the thought Dante could be severely injured.

"Yes, he's safe. Nobody touched one hair on his head." Carefully helping you sit on the bed, Abbacchio pulled you to him, letting you rest your head on his half-naked chest, his skin becoming damp from tears streaming down your face: you were in deep shock, shivering, unable to pull yourself together, but nobody could blame you. "Narancia's with him now in the room next to ours. He's perfectly alright."

You couldn't utter a word, crying so hard and wrapping your arms around Leone as if you were drowning in the sea, and he was your lifeline. You needed him so desperately you couldn't let him go for a couple of minutes, weeping quietly against his chest. When was the last time it happened? Abbacchio couldn't remember, but the feeling of you needing him awoken something in the man, something he had long forgotten. Leaving a soft kiss on your forehead, he snuggled you closer to him, whispering words of comfort into your ear as if you were a little girl, and then started gently stroking your back.

He missed it. He missed somebody's warmth as much as you missed it, too, but you had your dear boy, and Abbacchio had no one. Of course, he would die for Bucciarati, and the gang became like a family to him, but a having a family with you was something much, much different. Waking up next to you, snoring lightly in your sleep as you hug your pillow, and nuzzling against your soft, warm body until your boy wakes up the two of you, and you hurry to feed him while Abbacchio is helping him dress. He would let Dante sit on his shoulders while all of you walk, and you'd laugh, watching the man nag when the baby was going to grab his hair too tightly.

He'd see his boy growing up, always there to give him a hand when he needed it the most, and help you to take all that weight from your shoulders you had been carrying for years. You didn't deserve living like this, struggling to raise Dante on your own just because you happened to get pregnant from a useless man like Abbacchio. He wouldn't make you go through all this alone when he was perfectly capable of taking care of both you and his son.

Especially now when you had been attacked so suddenly, and if he wouldn't be close, stalking you like he always did week after week, Leone was afraid to think what would happen.

"You're safe, principessa." He muttered, leaving on more kiss on the top your head, and you smiled weakly: you still remembered him calling you like that when you two still dated. "And Dante's too. I will ask Narancia to bring him to you if you promise to be quiet. It's very hard to make your baby sleep, you know that?"

You chuckled at his attempt to humor you, trying to wipe the tears away. "That's because he has your genes, and you're stubborn like a mule."

"Very much so." Abbacchio chuckled, too, and carefully stood up, motioning you to keep quiet as you stared at him nervously.

When he returned with Narancia gently cradling your boy in his arms, you covered your mouth with your palm, instantly getting of the bed and watching your baby sleep soundly - the guy holding him looked like a baby, too, but you admitted how careful he was with Dante, humming something quietly to keep the boy asleep. Although you wanted to take Dante in your arms, you knew you risked waking him up, and he certainly didn't need more stress after today's events. Nodding to Narancia and mouthing him thank you, you returned to sit on the bed, waiting for Abbacchio. He came back right after closing the door after the guy carrying Dante.

"Thank you." You mumbled, your eyes puffy from crying and rubbing them, your eyes looking down. "Thank you so much for saving him."

"What are you saying?' The man landed next to you and enveloped you in a hug, letting your head rest on his shoulder. "You are my family. I won't ever abandon you."

No, he wouldn't. Soon enough he'd convince you that living on your own was no longer an option, and after you'd move in he would find a way to convince you to marry him, giving both you and his son the family you deserved. He was sure neither Giorno nor Bruno would be against it as both of them were going to get married, too, and they could understand what it meant to take care of their loved ones. Abbacchio would keep you safe, ready to provide you with everything you needed so you wouldn't have to worry about working or spending your time elsewhere but home.

Abbacchio would give his son a chance to become a good man, but he didn't need to become a shadow from his son's past. He had a family to take care of, the ones who needed him much more than anyone else ever did.

[laniidae-passerine]

okay went back to long post 2.0 and the Pictionary concept so now I’m going to create an insanely long list of Pictionary pair-ups and how they’d work in the cottage on game night

Here are all the people I presume would be allowed in for game night:

Reynie, Sticky, Kate, Constance, Martina, S.Q, Jackson, Jillson, Mr Benedict, Number Two, Rhonda, Milligan, Miss Perumal

Here we go! Reminder: this is crazy long so only about a sentence each unless I’m inspired

Reynie - Sticky: absolutely killing it, definitely come in second if not first because while neither of them can actually draw that well, they’re in tune with what the other person is trying to get across. even if it looks like nonsense to everybody else, they understand

Reynie - Kate: not amazing but pretty good! Half the time she doesn’t know what on earth he’s drawing or her gesturing is just confusing him even more but the other half? really accurate

Reynie - Constance: good but only because she has trained him in the art of Not Losing. Constance does not do the losing thing Reynie and she’s also not bad at drawing so they’re getting by okay

Reynie - Martina: consists mainly of ‘uhhhhhhhh’ noises at each other and then a guess that’s kinda right. Dead bird is kinda a roast chicken right?

Reynie - S.Q: amazing perfect legendary! but not when Reynie is drawing. S.Q hasn’t seen a lot of things so it’s kinda hard for him to guess, especially when it’s all quite wobbly

Reynie - Jackson: fine, weirdly. Jackson is less intense than Jillson during game night so as long as they’re not coming last he can handle it.

Reynie - Jillson: she is yelling loudly and Reynie is a human question mark. He needs to learn that when it looks like a cornflake, it’s meant to be a bird

Reynie - Mr Benedict: really good! Reynie loves reading just like him so they kill it on the literature round and also Reynie and him are just messing about

Reynie - Number Two: eh? No money is being on them winning but they’re not. Appalling

Reynie - Rhonda: fun! Rhonda knows it’s just a game and Reynie is just a kid who wants to enjoy himself.

Reynie - Milligan: slightly stilted but Milligan is freakily accurate at guessing. He gets a massive hug at the end too which makes him feel very safe (you may guess which he I’m talking about)

Reynie - Miss Perumal: oh, fantastic. She’s encouraging of him and even when they mess up they end up giggling about it

Sticky - Kate: Kate has pulled 17 new facial expressions at Sticky’s drawings and he is astounded by the way she keeps guessing bucket. Somehow still in 3rd

Sticky - Constance: oddly good. Constance can be patient with Sticky and she coaxes out that side of him that Needs To Win. All of the adults sort of skipped over mean!Sticky so their faces are priceless when Sticky tells them they can suck it because he’s the goddamn best

Sticky - Martina: average because neither of them are world’s best drawer or guesser but they can muddle by

Sticky - S.Q: great!!! Sticky has encyclopaedic knowledge and S.Q is a fantastic drawer! also terrible because S.Q doesn’t know what many basic things are and Sticky can’t draw for shit

Sticky - Jackson: cordial and calm, doing pretty alright. Two rather formal children with a pen it might feel a bit like a meeting between people trying to come up with new ideas for Pictionary rather than a game of Pictionary but they’re alright!

Sticky - Jillson: she is chasing him around the garden with a harpoon

Sticky - Mr Benedict: rather sweet, they’re failing miserably but at least they’re supporting each other all the way. To the bottom of the scoreboard though

Sticky - Number Two: competent but I feel like Number Two is not that great at Pictionary unless she’s teamed up with specific people

Sticky - Rhonda: let’s just enjoy ourselves :) maybe Sticky needs to give her a few hints though because optimism can only take them so far

Sticky - Milligan: even though Milligan is actually a really good guesser and drawer he takes the blame for every loss to make Sticky feel better because he thinks Sticky is very sweet

Sticky - Miss Perumal: weirdly this works. She knows what he’s trying to convey even if it’s just literal scribbly chaos and there’s even a chance of them doing well!

Kate - Constance: they are yelling violently at each other but if someone else dares insult one of them for being too bossy, prepare for their rage to be turned on you

Kate - Martina: banned from playing together. Pictionary should not be used as a vehicle for flirting and/or fighting about tetherball

Kate - S.Q: doing great!!! he’s amazing at drawing and she’s also pretty good too so they’re in with a high chance of winning

Kate - Jackson: weird dynamic. If she draws and he guesses, they’re doing good. Opposite way around and it’s not terrible but it is. Questionable

Kate - Jillson: two headstrong girls refusing to lose creates a team that is too busy arguing with each other to actually achieve anything. Luckily they admire the other person’s refusal to lose so they don’t stay mad at each other

Kate - Mr Benedict: her wild enthusiasm carries over to him and this is when you catch him actually getting competitive. Prepare to see the very minimal part of his nature that will remind you of his brother

Kate - Number Two: Kate has her head in her hands and Number Two at least has the decency to look a little ashamed

Kate - Rhonda: woooooooh girl power!!! c’mon let’s win this through the power of friendship (and end up in second still vibing)

Kate - Milligan: unified. He draws a line and she guesses it instantly. They’re the perfect father daughter team and he’s so proud of her that nobody can even be mad that they lost

Kate - Miss Perumal: okay! she’s very nice and Kate likes her so they get along well enough to achieve a good ranking

Constance - Martina: oh they understand each other. They’re above everyone else and they will win and they will rub it in S.Q’s face and then one of them will secretively give him a brownie slice if the jeering makes him feel bad

Constance - S.Q: oh she’s so pleased. She demands they win but because she cares about him (shut up) she will compliment all of his drawings in a veiled way. Of course she guessed it, she’s a genius and it’s also so obviously an airplane (translation: S.Q is very good at drawing and I believe in him)

Constance - Jackson: he’s afraid of her. However he will turn that fear into strength, mainly because that walking stick is way too close to Constance for his liking

Constance - Jillson: hell hath no fury like these two trying to win Pictionary. They will kill you and your mum and your dad and they are on the warpath. The only pairing so scary it makes S.Q draw appallingly

Constance - Mr Benedict: he can’t stop falling asleep when she insults him for being unable to guess accurately because he thinks she’s adorable and funny. He loves her so much and she’s secretly too happy about it to be mad

Constance - Number Two: who even knows what’s happening here? They sure don’t but whatever, Constance is willing to take the L, she wasn’t gonna win this one anyway

Constance - Rhonda: Constance has hidden respect for this woman. She will listen and pay serious attention to Rhonda while she is drawing and does her best to make it easy for her when it’s Rhonda’s turn to guess

Constance - Milligan: she’s still got insults left to give. Milligan is perhaps a little taken aback by the tiny child yelling at him but she’s a decent drawer so they’re getting along just fine (also she’s mean to anyone who is mean to him so he actually likes her)

Constance - Miss Perumal: you’d think Miss Perumal would be affronted by the rudeness but she actually just treats Constance with a lot of kindness in return. She apologises for getting things wrong, congratulates her for being a good drawer and so Constance is confused and actually. Stop working your magic on me you witch why am I so fond of you now

Martina - S.Q: hi bitchy S.Q we’ve missed you. They’re getting picky and irritated and being assholes to each other but they will win and they will totally high five when they do it. They have a victory song that Martina composed on a mandolin and it’s fifteen minutes long

Martina - Jackson: neither of them are afraid of the other. Will they use ‘I’M AN EXECUTIVE I’M BETTER THAN YOU!’ as a defence when they’re messing up? Yes. Is it completely useless? Also yes.

Martina - Jillson: you ever met two girls and seen them exchange a look and you know they just nonverbally said something bad about you but you’ve got no clue what it was? Now take that mean girl power and translate it into Pictionary. They’re gonna beat you so badly

Martina - Mr Benedict: something about the way that she’s so self assured and cocky makes him feel so happy that the cataplexy kicks in. He’s slid entirely off the sofa and when someone explains how that’s a good thing to Martina, she’s hiding a smile all night

Martina - Number Two: hand gestures and odd noises abound. Number Two can’t draw for shit but Martina refuses to give in so she will make them practice outside of game night so she can try understand what the hell Number Two is drawing

Martina - Rhonda: actually okay! not fantastic but Rhonda has such amazing vibes that Martina is learning to just relax and have fun

Martina - Milligan: he likes her. She’s occasionally mean and quite cocky, but she’s amiable to him and while she likely was at the start, she isn’t cruel or mocking towards him now. Yes he may be extremely tall and buff but the real matter at hand is if he can draw and thank god for the fact that he can

Martina - Miss Perumal: this child needs actual affection holy shit. C’mere Martina Miss Perumal will tell you that you’re funny and friendly instead of just smart. She ignores the actual game in favour of letting Martina feel cared for

S.Q - Jackson: terror from both of them but they think the other person has power. Jackson was told to leave the headmasters son alone and S.Q just thinks Jackson is scary so they’re playing a weird game of chicken where they both the chicken. Figure it out boys

S.Q - Jillson: when Jillson clocks that he’s a sweetheart she relaxes and then enters Oh We Will Win mode. S.Q is unnerved slightly but also it’s nice to be wanted with a borderline ‘I will be violent to other people if I don’t get him as my Pictionary partner’ intensity

S.Q - Mr Benedict: his nephew. Oh he loves him so much. Perfect boy, wonderful child. However this poses a slight problem because Benedict is talking too much about how amazing S.Q is and how much he loves him to actually guess what the object is. It’s okay though because they’re hugging by the end of it and that’s what matters

S.Q - Number Two: what is happening. Number Two can’t draw and S.Q has not seen most films or read most books or been beyond the island. He’s guessing bird 50% of the time

S.Q - Rhonda: oh they’re gonna win and Rhonda is on point with the positive reinforcement. Prepare to get a sweet chucked at you for every point you score S.Q

S.Q - Milligan: it’s odd because S.Q feels like he should be intimidated but he just feels safe. They’re doing very well together and it’s sweet to see the way that S.Q tentatively smiles when they do well and has the smile softly returned

S.Q - Miss Perumal: oh you want a mother? You want a mum? You want a brand new mum? What’s Pictionary do you need adoption papers? I can be your parent S.Q just sign here I love you

Jackson - Jillson: creepy twins out of the Shining x1000. Constance is not the only telepathic weirdo here. However if they hit a low streak they will start yelling at each other like little children

Jackson - Mr Benedict: uh. An adult being sincerely nice? Oh, yeah it’s fine. He’s fine. It’s cool. Does anyone have a tissue? also they’re doing decently, even if it’s hard for Jackson to see through happy tears

Jackson - Number Two: why are you both yelling at each other. None of this makes sense you’re not even being comprehensible anymore someone take the pen away from them

Jackson - Rhonda: good! Not much different to average people playing Pictionary it’s nice to watch

Jackson - Milligan: this man is TERRIYING. Jackson is afraid of him to the point where he kinda just stays weirdly quiet during rounds. Everyone is just waiting for him to realise that Milligan is an angel (when he does, they’re going to be a surprise powerhouse)

Jackson - Miss Perumal: she’s nice to him and it makes him wanna do well. Even when they do badly she’s still friendly to him and it’s good vibes all arounf

Jillson - Mr Benedict: this girl is insane. And he has a habit for thinking mean teenage girls are intensely funny so he’s not conscious almost every time she’s doing the guessing. On her end she’s just completely thrown by the Curtain clone thinking that she’s funny (…he really thinks that? Oh. That’s… fantastic, actually)

Jillson - Number Two: this works. The freaky teenager and the woman that she will one day be like are on the same wavelength so they’re actually guessing each other’s horrible drawings correctly. They’re so goddamn weird and yet winning. How the hell are they winning

Jillson - Rhonda: Why are you being nice? Stop It Now. No stop being friendly and kind and amusing. Shut up. (no don’t actually shut up you seem like the kind of person I wanna hang out with with)

Jillson - Milligan: this man is a social oddity. However she has spent more time on the Milligan Boat than necessary so she is starting to comprehend him. They’ll do fine

Jillson - Miss Perumal: okay Jillson is maybe one of the few people Miss Perumal just doesn’t get. But when she’s punched in the arm by Martina and told to be nice, they can actually get along fine and do quite well

Mr Benedict - Number Two: this is deranged. Perfection and insanity in one combination. They’re winning and Benedict has passed out but the answer was narcolepsy and technically that counts as correct. Everyone is losing their minds watching this occur

Mr Benedict - Rhonda: yeahhhhhh it’s time for two people who can’t stop giggling at each other. Everything is so funny to them and their positivity is infectious. Everyone can have been having the worst day of their lives but if game night rolls around and these two are a team? You’ll be happy by the end of it

Mr Benedict - Milligan: assured and calm. They know each other very well but their communication is a bit strange. Expect longggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg pauses and extended direct eye contact. It’s… really something however they’ll do well

Mr Benedict - Miss Perumal: the vibes are good with this one. For a man who often supports other, he’s a little thrown and very appreciative to have someone who treats him like he needs the support. She’s very kind to him.

Number Two - Rhonda: mainly Rhonda politely going ‘hmmmmmm. well. maybe…’ to make up for the fact that what Number Two is drawing is nonsense. Very ‘two sisters being unable to communicate and fighting about it’ until they inevitably reconcile

Number Two - Milligan: vibes. Doing well and nodding a lot at each other. He has very poetic ways of describing her awful drawings

Number Two - Miss Perumal: somebody try save Miss Perumal because none of this makes sense. No seriously is she dreaming did she eat cheese before bed

Rhonda - Milligan: actually they can both draw and they’re buddies. So it’s going pretty good and also they share Looks that have secret meaning so have fun figuring those out

Rhonda - Miss Perumal: if they are cheating via sign language that is none of your business. Stop reporting them for it you’re all so annoying god bless <3

Milligan - Miss Perumal: she’s a bit unnerved and then she gets to know him. Pretty good they connect over parenting and they can both draw so. Bisexual rights!

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

How it Started vs How is it Going: Yukihime and The Obey Me Boys

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So I had this in my head for quite a while now and I had to get it off or I wouldn't be able to do anything else-

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Lucifer

How it started

Yukihime was already done with his shit at the first sight of this man, and Lucifer could see such in her eyes. Neither were willing to back down. But in the end Yukihime was just like a second Satan, all it took was him not being his usual self by switching boddies with Satan himself for her to finally understand him and give him a chance right away.

How is it Going

Yukihime respects Lucifer deeply, though it doesn't mean she isn't still done with his shit most of the time. One thing both is used to is holding each other close in silence, Yukihime wants him to stop punishing himself, Lucifer wants her to cherish herself more, but for now, they can just be each other's comfort.

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Mammon

How it Started

Yukihime was unimpressed, but Mammon was curious, Yukihime exploited that. She didn't really care for him at the start, he was a means to survival, an asset for a goal, but of course it's impossible to remain cold hearted in the presence of Mammon of all demons. Little by little, they stopped being simply forcefully tied together to brother and sister in arms.

How is it Going

Fucking sibblings. She loves teasing him, Mammon knows exactly how to tease her back. She both enables his chaotic self and holds him back, he both pushes her to be more open and defends her when she wants to keep things private. Both are always there for extra options for each other to get money.

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Leviathan

How it Started

One sided platonic crush. Literally the first thing Yukihime thought about him was being his friend, while all Levi wanted was to get his money back and to make Mammon's life another layer of hell. Yukihime was set on being his friend, the TSL quiz being mostly a way for her to catch his attention, she was not going to let this one go.

How is it Going

Insepparable, she goes to him to rant on things she loves, he goes to her go rant on things he loves, they love things together. They support each other no matter what.

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Satan

How it Started

So much distrust from both sides, Yukihime wasn't having it with all his smiles, Satan wasn't having it with her politeness. Yukihime's opinion on him that was once of a fellow intelligent person came crashing down to the floor once she experienced his wrath, but it didn't last long to go all the way up all over again, though she was still not very close to him.

How is it Going

She's basically a fucking fangirl. She sees all his qualities and flaws and loves him all the same. Satan still doesn't understand her well because of their different tastes in animals, but boy do they hit it off when talking about detectives and being chaotic and curious together, which is accompained by a sudden realization and bashfull silence. They're trying.

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Asmodeus

How it Started

To Yukihime, Asmo was indeed pretty at first sight, but it was just one of those moments you look at someone, go "oh they're really pretty", but then just go on with your life. In other words, no special interest. Specially after she could see right through his narcissism. She immediatelly softened up once she realized how much of a sweetheart Asmodeus actually is.

How is it Going

Basically a couple. Yukihime loves physical affection, and feels free to be extra with Asmo. Asmo loves her attention and the fact she will always trully listen to whatever he says. Sharing food, giving kisses, flirting. They're each other's most trusted partner.

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Beelzebub

How it Started

Yukihime was wary of him, not for his size or anything, but because of his desinterest. He ate all the food, he didn't care if she starved at some point, so she couldn't trust him. Until she got to know him better of course, after that she would do everything in her power to protect him.

How is it Going

You could say their bond is special, he is her protector, she is his protector, like a magical wielder and their familiar/magical beast. She trusts him, he trusts her, they count on each other and are always there to give each other a hand to hold on to.

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Belphegor

How it Started

At first encounter Yukihime didn't care, she just wanted to wreck havock. But with many visits and the more she learned and the closer she got with all the brothers, the more uncertain about her choices she became. She understood Belphegor deeply, he was like her twin sister: put in an unfair situaion, having no way to fully comprehend their feelings, directing it all to a scapegoat. Yukihime knew she was going to be killed, and she willingly walked right into it. Not for Belphegor, not for the rest of the brothers, in fact, though she felt guilty about leaving them, she still didn't fight back, all because she wanted to redeem herself to her sister, who definetelly would be angry at Yukihime for such decision. Yukihime apologized for seeing her own death as means to run away from all the problems later on.

How is it Going

Belphie holds a special place in Yukihime's heart, just like Beel, they are each other's protector, but a bit different. You could say if felt like Belphie won a triplet.

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Solomon

How it Started

"Shady but he's the only other human around so I have no other options but to trust him for now" is basically Yukihime's first opinion. Didn't take long for her to see how oblivious and even innocent this man could be, which resulted, just like with Asmo, in immediate fondness.

How is it Going

Partners in crime, partners in work, her bond with the sorcerer is very alike the one she has with Asmodeus, though differently from the demon, the fact that both of them are human brings out a different kind of understanding between them.

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Simeon

How it Started

First thought he was a nice angel, then his reputation with her slowly got more and more distorted. She didn't understand him, didn't want to trust him, but she loves TSL too, and couldn't help but respect his intelect and talent in writting.

How is it Going

Chill friendship, she gets a kick out of his snarky side, doesn't mind his strict side that much, she is coming to understand him little by little, letting her curiosity show. She is gratefull to him, so she wants to know who he truly is.

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Luke

How it Started

Yukihime doesn't really know how to get allong with kids, and the fact that Luke isn't exactly one just made her head hurt more. She treated him with basic polinetess and respect, though she wouldn't go out of her way to be nice to him. Slowly she got used to him, becoming more fond of him in the process.

How is it Going

He's like a younger cousin she gets along with. He's family but not like a brother. She indulges in his interests and is always there to make his tunnel vision judgement wider. She teaches him a lot she has learned from her own aunt too.

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Diavolo

How it Started

Immediate bad reputation with Yukihime. She was summoned out of nowhere, without prior notice, without any preparations, with not even all representants in the room, there was so much she could point out as incredibly faulty in the exchange program. Luckily, the fondness she aquired for the place and it's people made her see such things in a less of a bad light, she would help Diavolo wherever she could.

How is it Going

After the whole incident with Lucifer once again Diavolo is in a bad light under Yukihime's eyes, and one that will not be lifted by mere fondness this time. She is still willing to get along, and she hopes she can help him be better at his decision making, afterall she understands where he is coming from. She keeps her distance, but she's willing to give him a hand.

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Barbatos

How it Started

Immediate intrigue. He spikes her curiosity so much, she can't help but like that. Though the conversations they have together are short and few, she respects and likes him.

How is it Going

Strong friendship, Barbatos is one of the main reasons Yukihime still gives Diavolo a chance. She likes her company and he likes her's, though their interests are quite different, it is said difference that just makes each and every conversation more interesting. You learn something new everyday, specially when talking to someone who is pretty different from you.

[nanoland]

Title: Besyd the scarcety of bread amowngst us

Fandom: Supernatural 

Pairing: Crowley/Dean Winchester

Summary: In which Dean asks a question.

Warnings: Crowley being Extremely traumatized and kind of oblivious to that fact + SPN demons being SPN demons (i.e. remorseless bodysnatchers) + Dean being his casually misogynistic self + graphic descriptions of starvation + exhibitionism (sorta?) + sexually explicit content because this was MEANT to be straightforward smut and then Crowley happened, the prick.

Also on AO3!

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“So how come you aren’t a hot chick?”

The glass stills an inch from Crowley’s pale lips. “I humbly beg your pardon?”

It’s late. The bar’s quiet. He doesn’t need Dean to repeat himself. Just a moment to decide on a response.

Well on the way to utterly shit-faced, Dean gestures vaguely, meaninglessly. “You offer people stuff. Then, ten years later, you drag ‘em to Hell. And – and they know that’s what’s gonna happen if they make a deal with you. Which means that you gotta be real fuckin’ persuasive. Which you are. Grade A Bullshit Artist and don’t I know it. But... uh, what was I gonna… yeah, wouldn’t it be easier, right, just way easier if you were a hot chick?”

Crowley can tell he’s not done, so he keeps his silver tongue behind his faintly yellowed teeth for the moment.

While Dean is usually delightful company, in his surly, macho way, this evening there’s an uncommonly obnoxious edge to everything he says. That almost certainly means his insecurities over what he’s been letting Crowley do to his arse lately are acting up.

Understandable. Still annoying.

So Crowley’s more than willing to let his favourite human dig himself a wee bit deeper before pouring boiling tar into the pit.

After quickly throwing back the last of his drink, Dean goes on: “Now, I didn’t go to some dickslurp business school. I ain’t that brand of asshole. But I’ve seen enough beer ads in my time to have an idea of how marketing works. You got something you want people to buy? Fastest way is to get a hot chick in a bikini to hold it up. Because guys have most of the money in this shitty world of ours and guys think with their dicks. I know I do. So why did you decide to possess someone who looks like a balding, middle-aged banker going through a stressful divorce? That ain’t enticing. That ain’t capturing anyone’s interest. Y’know?”

“Mm,” says Crowley, and stands up.

“Fuck’re you doing?” Dean slurs, watching him take off his tie.

“Ever heard of the Seven Ill Years, Squirrel?”

“Nope. Seriously, what’re you doing?”

Draping his overcoat over the back of his chair along with his tie, Crowley sets about taking off his jacket. “‘The Seven Ill Years’ refers to a particularly shitty time in early modern Scotland; the 1690s.”

He tugs off his costly leather shoes and places them side-by-side under his chair. “I was in my… early thirties at the time, I think. Thirty-two? Maybe thirty-one. Whatever.”

Dean is gaping now. He’s never seen Crowley without his outer layers, much less the growing slice of exposed chest as Crowley unbuttons his shirt.

“For a lot of complicated reasons relating to oceanic thermohaline circulation, solar activity, and a few ill-timed volcanos, the weather turned rotten. These days, it’s called the Little Ice Age. Us pigshit stupid peasants who lived through it didn’t know anything about all that. All we knew was that it was freezing bloody cold and the crops kept dying.”

“Dude,” Dean hisses, red-faced as Crowley sets his shirt alongside his jacket and overcoat. “Stop it! We’re going to be thrown out!”

“No. Look around. Is anyone paying attention to us? Precisely. We’re invisible to them at the moment, Squirrel. One of my little tricks.”

“Oh. Okay, that’s good. But that’s still not an excuse to take your fucking pants off in public oh my God oh my God!”

They’re expensive pants and Crowley takes care to fold them before putting them down. “To cut a long story short; famine struck. And famine, it’s…”

Crowley pauses, thinking, ignoring Dean’s pathetic attempts not to gawk at his dick.

“It’s hard to describe famine to someone who hasn’t lived through one,” he says eventually. “Language – English, at least – isn’t equipped to convey what it feels like to be so hungry you’ll try to boil and eat someone else’s shoes. Then someone else’s children. Then your own children. There are no words for it. Or, if in some distant corner of our monstrous universe there are, then they’re words that would drive a human raving mad to speak them.”

Naked now but for his black socks, Crowley scratches his stubble. “Sometimes I think that’s why I got on so well in Hell.”

He sits back in his chair. Folds his legs. Taps his fingers on the side of his empty glass. “Don’t get me wrong; having someone cut open your lungs, fill them with scorpions, and sew them up again isn’t fun. But – how can I put this? – you can process it. You can grapple with it. You know why you’re suffering; because you’re in Hell, and that’s what Hell is for. It makes sense. What doesn’t make sense is going about your everyday life and watching all the people around you – the baker, the priest, the prettiest girl in the village – go about theirs while they turn into walking skeletons. And knowing they didn’t do anything to deserve it. Couldn’t have done anything to deserve it, because no crime, no matter how vile, warrants that kind of punishment.”

Dean says nothing.

After a moment, Crowley pulls himself from the dark, sucking well of memory to add, “Anyway, to answer your question; I don’t want to be a hot chick because a. I’m a man and b. hot chicks are skinny, and I will cheerfully burn this world to the ground before I endure living in a hungry body ever again.”

He glances down at his unclothed meat suit and smiles proudly, running a hand up one of its thick thighs. “Also – y’know – I personally think this long-deceased lad of mine is sexy as Hell.”

Gazing at his shoulder, Dean says roughly, “Didn’t know you had tattoos.”

“Oh. Those. Yeah. Can’t stand them. Worst decision the stupid bastard ever made.”

“I think they’re kinda cool.”

“Do you? Well, you do have incredibly bad taste so perhaps that’s not surprising. Now, are you going to get over here and put that erection to good use?”

Oh, bless him; he’s adorable when he squirms.

“Here?” Dean asks, eyes wide.

“Here.”

He says it like a challenge, for Dean can never resist one of those. Immediately, those wide eyes become narrow and determined.

The boy stands. Looms over Crowley, who casually flicks both their glasses to the floor and moves to sit on the cool wooden table. It’s clean, more or less, thanks to Dean (for once) agreeing to follow Crowley to a semi-respectable establishment.

“These hands,” Crowley murmurs, running them across Dean’s broad chest, “don’t have a single callous or scar. See? Soft as butter. Not a single day’s honest work, either of them.”

Dean swallows. Leans in to kiss him, hesitant and gentle.

Contrary to popular belief, Crowley likes gentle. Or, more accurately, Crowley likes being pampered.

He goes on: “And these legs…”

A groan escapes Dean’s lips as one presses up against his crotch.

“…these legs haven’t walked more than ten miles, collectively, since I moved in. No muscles. No blisters on the undersides of their feet. Not so much as a splinter.”

“Jesus,” Dean mumbles, drawing him in and latching onto his neck.

“And this stomach is never empty. Never even close. Never once forced to digest anything that isn’t purely, perfectly delicious. I treat my meat suits better than most people treat their family heirlooms.”

“Crowley. Fuck.”

He squeezes Dean’s arse and growls, “Because this is my reward, Dean. I won this. This softness, this safety. This nurtured, nourished flesh. I endured the seventeenth century and all humanity’s horrors. Endured my mother. Endured Hell. Built myself a reputation and a kingdom. All for this. And isn’t it wonderful? Say that it is, Dean.”

“Yeah,” Dean moans, even though he can’t understand a word; Crowley slipped into Gaelic a while ago.

(The things Crowley wants to tell Dean and the things Crowley wants Dean to know are categories that rarely overlap.)

Crowley takes Dean’s leaking cock in hand.

“Say I’m beautiful.”

Dean’s knees buckle as he whimpers, so Crowley wraps an arm around his narrow, underfed waist.

“Say you love me.”

Dean comes in his palm, gasping and cursing.

“Say you love me more than anyone else.”

“I’m guessing that was all Scottish dirty talk?” says Dean when he has his breath back. “You were – what? Calling me your bitch?”

Crowley smirks, licks the sweat off Dean’s jaw, and gives his backside a pat before reaching for his clothes. “None of your business. Go get me another drink, would you? Ta.”

 the end

NOTES: The title is taken from a quote found in Karen Cullen’s ‘Famine in Scotland: the ‘Ill Years’ of the 1690s’ (you can find extracts via googlebooks). Yes, canonically Crowley WOULD have been about thirty when this happened. Just in case his origin story wasn’t horrific enough wheee :D

[daughterofhel]

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My icon died last night.

The little black and white cat, Auk (or-ick). A silly name from a badly remembered name from my childhood.

He was pretty much deaf; car got him.

I haven’t seen him since I left Texas, as I moved for a year to VA before finally moving to be with my wife in Vento. One of my guy friends family took him in on their ranch.

It was fitting; I did get Auk from a ranch. He was used to it, loved it even. And this was without the competition of an unhealthy amount of breeding stays like the ones I grabbed him and Ivy up from. I could only take two, my friend the same.

Funny. I had originally gone there to see the birth of a colt only to leave with a cat. Return the next day and get one more, a friend for my tiny runt of a thing.

And who should but all demand it be him to leave with me but Auk? The friendliest of cats that I’ve ever had the pleasure to be around. He also thwarted my attempts at having two girl cats. He was insistent to leave with me and you don’t argue when you’re chosen you know?

I won’t detail the tears following or the rough road and chaos that went on, but many double shifts back to back to back endlessly, a medicated clumsy grandmother with rapidly failing health, and complex roommate situations, I just wasn’t able to provide the needed time and care for my cats.

I cried the entire 45 minute drive to my buddys property when he said he could take them in. I had to pull over twice. They also cried the entire time, being afraid of the car, which made it harder. My buddy, He was the same guy who rescued a big pup clearly abandoned some years back. I had helped train him to not jump on people and other stuff. His folks also owned a longhorn ranch, lots and lots of space.

Those cats deserved better and this was a familiar element, now neutered, vaccinated, and with no stray competition and the dog was so careful. But god. I never wanted to say goodbye to my cats. It didn’t matter though, what I wanted; they needed care and time I wasn’t able to keep providing.

So I dropped them off. As expected, Ivy kept close but never got too close to the family. She simply doesn’t trust; I’ve no idea why such a little thing bonded instantly with me and remained quite the fixed cuddle bug. But she had. I felt worse about it with her than Auk if I’m to be honest.

Auk loved attention. Loved fetch. Belly rubs. This cat was a classic dog and a huge whore for attention. XD He essentially made himself at home and lavished any and all attention, to which my buddies mother instantly fell for this fuzzy dorks charms. He has been well cared for.

I know younger me could’ve and should’ve done better when I got these cats. Mind you, I’ve been gone for over 10 years now, so it has been quite some time. I’m doing what I wish I could have done for my cats then with the two rescues we got last year here.

I was young and working so many hours for nearly no profit after stuff was paid, even living at home and with roommates. I couldn’t afford the extra vet fees I needed or the fanciest of foods or any of that. I loved them, and I felt them being with me instead of the half starving state they were in from constantly competing with so many other cats, was still a better option for them. I still was at least able to do some of the important visits for them.

I cleared their fleas and earmites. I never did get rid of Ivys worms, though I desperately tried. I tried so many ways to get this pill into that cat. Even crushed into wet food. Friends helping to wrap and hold her to make her swallow. All the tricks we found, failed. She just. She wouldn’t take it. And I didn’t have the cash to go every single day and time she needed a dose to a pet clinic. I had checked more than once. It was so much money.

Older, better situated now.. I’ve been able to do right by the cats, Nyx and Tivali, that I have now.

We even saved Nyx’s eye. We have a system to give her her seizure medicine every 12 hours. They’re both fully up to date with their shots and are fixed. Ears totally clean. Monthly newly added anti flea tick collars.

The best food we can reasonably find at the local pet shop; their pelts are beautiful, soft, shiny, and they never smell.

We’ve even found a biodegradable corn based litter we can flush which has been the greatest find.

We get semi regular check ups on our girls and they’re doing just fine now. I’m still proud about saving Nyx’s eye. It was a tedious ordeal. 3-4 times a day we had to clean and medicate a cats eye. We got good at it even if she wasn’t fond of it. Thankfully the vitamins they required were like treats. Even the antibiotics from the colds they had from the shelter.

I miss Auk. And Ivy. And I wish I could’ve not only given them the life I’ve given my current cats now, (I’ve constructed basket beds, hammocks, a whole canopy jungle gym and rope bridge to boot for them with my wife!), but I wish I could have been the one to have them in my life still. I know it was not possible. It wouldn’t have been possible.

But I think of them. A lot. And I knew it was inevitable. Auk would’ve been well over 13 or so years by now. A little old but could’ve lived longer yet for sure. My buddy didn’t mention he has gone deaf. Of course he rarely goes home himself; I don’t blame him. Life’s complicated.

I have mourned these two cats multiple times now. So I’m not thrown into tears upon this news, I’ve cried plenty over the years already. But I’m still sad to hear that fuzzy delight has passed on. I won’t ask, but I hope, and believe, the accident was a quick end for such a friendly guy.

I’ll mourn him eventually in full. I know I will. But considering this is the fourth major bad news I’ve gotten in less than a month and most of it a week, I thought to write about it. If only to keep sane.

May I not receive the same news of my grandmother or my sister who both remain in the hospital.

And god. May my mother stop forcing me to recall and talk about our shared trauma under my father and just keep me up to date on my families health. I don’t want to be crushed under this suffocating vice on my neck that makes me hesitate to call and see my family. I know she needs to vent. And god. I try to let her. I do. I try to be kind; she needs it.

But it isn’t the time and place when I’m trying to figure out if my grandmother is dying or getting better. I shouldn’t have to receive that confirmation, be granted a brief video called hello and check in, with the price of an hour long dredge through a past I personally have gone to two different types of therapy through to try and cope with. Which, only to some degree, have helped.

One of the last longer calls we had she all but said she hoped her theories on my father possible molesting me were true, so, you know, that would be one more trauma we had in common. She went on and on, even trying to provide loose evidence to her theory. Troubling sentences I would say in my rare visits. Etc. She just. Wouldn’t. Stop. And that was after an hour of recalling how terrible her life was with my father and the abuse, the screaming, the terror, the hiding, the injuries, all of it. As if I wasn’t left to live my life with this very man she said her three years with ruined her more than all her past shit combined.

She assured me she was a good mother who tried. And honestly. No. But I do believe she tried. But she was already weak emotionally and mentally and my father wrecked what was left. She left me sometimes for a couple days lock in that house when I was in diapers. You don’t forget that shit. I’m still scared of the dark. I can’t reason with myself on it. But being mad about all of it doesn’t change anything and would hurt a woman already broken. Why would I do that.

Still. It bothers me. So fucking much. But she’s such a fragile person in a fragile emotional state with everything else on top. She’s been heavily depressed for many many years and it’s a bunch of other stuff that spirals and honestly, at this point, she’s toxic even to herself. I’ve tried working on it with her but it matters not if she’s not willing to work on it too. I don’t know my mother besides her many traumas. We’ve been separated and estranged for most of my life. Unless I was physically able to actually be there and provide a use.

But that’s par for the course; no one will have you around if you’re unable to provide something for it. My wife’s the first person who genuinely seems to enjoy having me around just because and wants nothing more. I do stuff of course; but with her I am not afraid a slip up could mean everything it taken away and lost. I can forget the dishes once or had a bad mental health day and stay in bed without it having catastrophic consequences. She’s such a wonderful kind woman; I cannot help stressing over how to repay her.

I try and I’ve expressed my distraught on the topic and though she always seems baffled and confused about my insistence that I should be doing far more, that lass doesn’t agree at all. It’s her parents home so I am not able to freely run the house as I would on our own, as I’m able and have in many places, so I’m often less useful with the restrictions. She’s also use to the flow and swing of things and has things half done before it’s being asked.

Our own place will make life smoother and calmer for both of us; most importantly her. I’ve watched this family, sweet, but absolutely tone deaf to how many and often their demands are tossed to her. All the other kids moved out with partners. Hell, the oldest s child basically lives here. Our own hurdle with raising a kid who we don’t have the final say on any single thing. His grandparents are enablers cuz they don’t want to hear any loud noises, no matter what. And that causes strain when the kid can and does get anything and everything as long as he kicks up a fit. And he sure as hell does. There are days it’s so bad my wife’s in tears. And that pisses me off. The kids a good person, but the fact no one will actually parent and draw definite lines and be firm with No’s can also make him horrible too.

I’ve to deal with the chess match that is my father. I often call him my own personal Devil. He kind of is. But one I’m familiar enough with at this point in my life. I know where and when to cut my losses, where to step around, when I need to swallow my pride or the easily seen through lies, and nod my head. If he was all terrible, I could have cut him from my life. But no one ever really is. And I do know I owe it to the man; he has helped tremendously in my life as much as he’s been a big problem of it. I know his biggest fear is to be alone and forgotten. I wouldn’t do that, not even to the devil.

I need some bland news. Not thrilling. Not depressing. Just some ‘hey that happened’ ‘oh cool.’ Kind of news. Just a small reprieve.

Im. Scared. Of what’s next.

I. Know that things are teetering dangerously into a very very tragic terrible story on my mothers end. I know her husbands already super suicidal. My half brothers severely autistic, non verbal, among a few other things and will require his whole life to have someone be there for him. He’s not stupid, and I hate when people treat him as so, but he is absolutely unable to care for himself. He doesn’t have the right motorskills even, though we’ve gone to many different places to try and help him find ways to do actions in his own way that still get the same result. I admire how he’s such a positive little man, generally not just happy, but delighted. I aspire to look at the world like he does. He reminds me to try. I do love that about him.

He is, however, a Big boy, 15 now, and growing. He’s also very strong now. My mother is getting to an age where his, as well call em happy slaps, are really hurting her. He is generally good about slapping your hands and not your back if you provide them. But when he is upset he is a shover; one bad fall could really cause a lot of chaos for my mother with her health. The husband spends most of his time locked in his room.

My half sister is epileptic. They have done tests for years and can’t figure out all her triggers or the whys. They just sometimes stop for a long time then suddenly happen. She’s 16, turning 17 soon. And I don’t even know if she’s going to be, since my mother won’t let me know. And there are large gaps from my sister being on tech due to concerns of what triggered her seizure this time so she’s often removed from electronic devices for a time.

When I had turned 21, my mother and her husband tried to have me sign a paper to become legal guardian of my half siblings, should something happen to them, so the kids didn’t get separated.

At that time, I was still taking care of my fathers mother along with working at a shit job, and had a house full of temporary roommates who I had offered rooms to as a sort of safe house for them. I have a knack for finding people from broken homes, what can I say? With the house my father and I built, we had space, so I used it. I was able to help the girls get out of toxic places, get on their feet, and move on. Not all of them always. But it did generally work out. One has a boyfriend who was growing worse to her on top of getting more and more into hard drugs while also she dealing with an abusive aunt who got worse once her mother died of cancer. So she was stuck with the terrible boyfriend. I had her stay with me as soon as I heard.

Another was complicated, but generally revolved around the alcoholic mother and the many, shady, men in and out of the house. The dangers of that alone were.. problematic without the friend also being suicidal and not taken seriously. I’ve stayed many times with her to just hang out, clean, cook, or even read a book cuz she just wanted to hear someone talking and such. You know? Until eventually I had her move in with me too.

Another’s mothers died of a cancer and dad an alcoholic; not abusive, he just became childlike and super forgetful. To a hurtful degree in his totally dependent state, whenever he was home. Plus their whole little trailer smelled of piss. And her boyfriend (they’re married with kids and happy now) was in jail. He had a bad past but had cleaned up his act quite well, but. Well that’s complicated. We all know that the police don’t squint at details of any issue if the accused has a problematic past.

I had two different girls with trouble at home who were being used by their family to constantly work, clean, and pay for everything.

I had an ex and her girlfriend with problematic homophobic parents who were terrible and semi violent so I had them stay with us so they could be together somewhere safer.

I did not. At all. Have the assured means to also be a parent of ten children with very different needs nor any medical benefits to help out with.

I also knew, that, with how my mothers husband was, if he had some guarantees for his children’s safety, he would likely end his life if he could. He’s been so close so many times. If signed this paper, he would have the last big most important concern that’s kept him from.. I just. I didn’t want him to do it. I selfishly didn’t want to be responsible for my siblings that would take away any bit of time I had for myself away. If anything happened, I would not abandon and forget my siblings. That’s absurd. But my mother implied heavily she wanted to be sure of that. And thus this paper.

I was struggling to find aid for college so I could go to school (never got to, by the way. Minus two classes in total. Aced them both, but it doesn’t matter. Credits in the wind). I was already dealing with my grandmother. The girls I chose to help. My shit job. My fathers temper and his horrible horrible ‘on again off again’ girlfriend. The chaos that alone committed.

I was busy providing a safe space in my home and making sure it stayed that way for the rare times trouble makers made the mistake of stepping up to my door to try and harass my girls.

I often worked 10 days in a row before a day off. Many of those days often had double shifts which were 16 hours. Sometimes I got an hour nap on the double shifts.

I just couldn’t do it.

And now. I remember something that came to mind back then that comes back to mind now. My moms husband adores my grandma. She’s been better to him than his own mother. She’s dying. He’s not taking it well and his mental health has always been pretty low and in the last couple years, already dangerously rock bottom. I’ll admit, same.

His daughter is now in the hospital. My brother is smart but there are some things we can’t really explain for him to get. He understands something is wrong but not sure what and it upsets him. He doesn’t like change and gets super fussy for it. Which can be taxing and hours and days and weeks of it. Grandmas been in the hospital for a couple more or more now. She coded a few days ago but they got her back.

If grandma dies. If something happens to my sister…

God. I don’t see that man sticking around.

And with my mom isolated. A lot of it her doing with her own family but also a good part of it being dumb petty bs of other folks that have no reason to behave like that (a whole drama I don’t have the energy to keep up with..). I just.

I see it as a domino effect of terrible terrible events I don’t want to write.

My mothers side im not very close to. I don’t blame my cousins, we were kids ajd our meetings were brief as they were. But the adults kept their distance with me. No one expected me to survive and decided it was easier to not get attached. To not get involved with me, and by extension, the devil himself, my father. So I never got the chance to know that family. Even when I tried.

So the only family I do have some ties to ajd know, is in a hospital bed, or on my dads side, and they’re dying to. And I get it… that at a certain age in life, many of the people around you start to. It’s just life. Ajd it sucks. And I miss having a best friend. I miss having friends who just seem to like to have me around. Want to have me around.

And I wonder if the friends I thought I made with my roommates were just because I provided something for them. Sure we laughed a lot, we cried over shared traumas, celebrated holidays together so as to not be alone.

But not a one speaks to me now. And hey. That’s also life. But it makes me feel pretty shitty; every where I look in the past, I can’t see any relationship, family, partner, friendship, that ever had me around unless I was providing services they wanted and needed. And I don’t mean the natural give and take.

I’m aware that I’m not the friend folks have around. I’m a fun distraction at best and have been told and reminded as such. I feel like shit cuz my wife’s wonderful and the best person in my life, and yet I still mourn having close friends to hang with. I miss gaming together the most. Or the bullshitting. Sharing food.

I’m not a nice person. I’m working on it. I am. I’ve also, for years, been working on my own personal problems so as to not bring them into even conversations. I don’t know what I am doing wrong but I just.. can’t seem to keep anyone around. And frankly.

I find myself crying about it a lot with no idea what to do.

And. I’m burnt out.

I don’t want to make friends anymore. And yet I still crave it. Which sucks. I can’t stop seeming to want that. And I keep trying. And trying.

I’m trying to accept and be happy with any bit of time I get from the few friends who talk to me. I try to take my chances where I can to hang out (online, as they’re all distance by now), cuz I know it’s a short window and I’ll be lucky to get a next time in the near future.

Online is harder to provide a use, and once the ‘honeymoon phase’ of the friendship winds down, some drop off the map entirely. A few abruptly. And I just. That’s fucked me ho a ton. I can’t even express how many hours I stay sitting. Thinking. Unable to understand what I am not doing or what I am.

It’s a pity party. I know. But it’s fine. I’m still the only one at it and though I’m quite forward even with nerves eating away at me, I still just don’t know how to keep anyone in my life.

It’s taken almost 6 years for me to relax enough to believe my wife will, in fact, stick around.

But at this point in time, I’ve realized, on a note I just keep getting really sad over, that the bits of friendship I’ll get to experience with people, will be brief, snippets, and frankly, only if I am providing something they’re not getting.

I’m essentially the magazine next to the toilet when you have a bad bad stomach bug and your phones dead.

Man’s that’s.. probably my own doing. I know I’m a lot of woe is me in here. And it’s a post talking to me, so I’m indulging in it. I absolutely can’t out loud or in life. I’m working on just.. trying to feel instead of ignoring it. Per my therapists suggestions. So I feel fucking overwhelmed, sad, and alone. Isolated. Heavily.

Ignorance is bliss for real. I wish I wasn’t so aware that I was the friend you go to when all options are down and you’re bored. When you are in a bind and need a safe spot (I don’t mind that one but it does suck that it’s the only time some folks pop back in or up). That if I’m not working then no one even has a small little want to just say hi. I wish I had people who just wanted to say hi because they just.. missed me? I gues?

I wish I knew how to be better as a person and a friend. I thought I was making strides on that. I really had. And yet.

Here I am. Just.

Bitching to the void. Becuase my wife doesn’t need me to add more to her life with her father (finally back from the hospital after surgery) and his health concerned along with everyone else’s and the own sets of ordeals here. I don’t need her to fret over me.

She’s needed distraction and I’ve left her alone for a couple weeks now to her drawing. Probably one of the best things I did do for her was clean up a space for a literal drawing room for her. She’s happier for it. People compliment her art and she rather enjoys the well deserved attention.

I personally would love to have her around more. But I’m having a lot of bad shit days. Weeks at this point. And I’m using my energy to be useful in setting the table or doing the dishes, the cats, playing with the nephew, etc.

All I want to do is sleep.

Frankly. I’m tired of waking up.

But for her. I will.

[queenk00k]

but what if we were pure gold all along? jj maybank (chapter 3)

Summary: After the assumed death of their best friend, the Pogues are falling apart at the seams. With Pope and Kiara getting closer and JJ left with nowhere to go, he finds himself left to his own devices. Feeling lost and rejected, his luck seems to turn when he meets Scarlett - a Kook who doesn’t treat him like shit and has an affinity for partying. JJ gets sucked into her world as she promises to help him forget.

How much longer can he keep running from his demons? And what happens when he starts sharing a bed with one?

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, child abuse, angst, sexual content, drug use, underage drinking.

Author’s note: Hi all, this is my multi-chapter fic I’ve been working on. My oneshots & Rafe series have taken off so I thought it was time to share this one too. Let me know what you think!

Word count: 2K

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

the one where JJ throws caution to the wind (but when was he ever cautious anyway?)

JJ has woken up in pretty strange locations before. The porch steps of the Chateau, the hull of the HMS Pogue, the Boneyard. Nothing was stranger than waking up on a couch in a Kook’s bedroom, who he’d really only spoken to twice. The couch was surprisingly soft, and JJ finds that he actually had one of the best sleeps he’s had in, well, he can’t quite remember how long.

That doesn’t erase how completely fucking weird it is that he not only went home with a Kook but spent the whole night there.

JJ sits up and is quietly thankful Scarlett appears to have been awake for a while; she’s dressed and perched on the end of her bed in a similar position to the night before. She’s also biting her fingernails, chipping away the black nail polish with her teeth. This brings JJ some comfort – she’s clearly feeling as unsettled as he is.

He clears his throat and Scarlett turns to look at him, smiling cautiously. “Hey,” she says. “You feeling okay?”

JJ nods and stands up. “Yeah, yeah I’m good thanks.”

“Sleep alright?”

“Mmmhmm.”

An awkward pause.

“Listen,” JJ says as he moves towards the door. “I really appreciate what you did for me and all but I gotta go. Honestly, I don’t understand why you let me stay on your couch-”

Scarlett scoffs. “You really think that low of me? You crashed your motorbike in the middle of the night and looked another blow from death. What was I going to do? Leave you on the side of the road?”

JJ is taken aback; he didn’t expect her to answer like that.

“You’re a Kook, I’m a Pogue…you know how it is.” JJ shrugs.

Scarlett rolls her deep brown eyes. “That shit is so stupid. We’re not all that bad.”

JJ opens his mouth to reply something along the lines of “well, in all of my experiences-” but the sound of tires screeching on gravel outside diverts his attention.

Scarlett’s eyes widen and she grabs JJ’s arm tightly. He clenches his jaw and forces himself not to wince; she grabbed one of his darker bruises. He gently removes his arm from her grip and Scarlett looks at him apologetically.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just my parents are home. You gotta go, now! Go out the window, quick quick,” Scarlett says as she frantically ushers JJ to the window. JJ’s startled by the sudden change in pace but honestly, he’s pretty thankful for an excuse to get out of there. He’s never felt comfortable around Kooks.

You can hardly blame him.

Scarlett helps JJ push the window up far enough for him to climb through (his arm is feeling pretty busted from the events of the previous night) and he doesn’t hesitate in sticking a leg through to climb out onto the roof.

“Wait, wait,” Scarlett says. “Is that it? You’re just gonna leave?”

JJ looks at her quizzically. “I mean, yeah. What were you hoping for? A goodbye kiss?” He taunts.

Scarlett makes a face at him. JJ can’t tell if it’s disgust or disappointment.

“No. Can I at least give you this?” She reaches into her bedside drawer and pulls out a wad of cash; JJ estimates it to be at least $200.

“And why would you give me that?”

“You seem like you need it,” Scarlett replies, shrugging.

Wrong thing to say.

JJ narrows his eyes and replies, “I’m not your charity case.”

Without giving Scarlett a chance to reply (JJ has an old habit of needing the last word), he scoots out of the window and down the gabled roof of her stupid fucking mansion.

He thinks he’d be content with never seeing her again.

JJ eventually manages to drag himself to his bike and take off towards the Chateau slowly, his bones aching (but not before kicking down the realtor’s sign – if the Camerons have more to worry about then he figured they won’t care if Rose’s frozen smile was kicked in). He’s being more careful on the ride over this time, not willing to repeat the spill from the night before. JJ is lost deep in thought on the way back to the Chateau and before he knows it, he’s riding up the driveway, the bike’s tires kicking up dirt as he skids to a stop.

JJ hates that for a second, he expects John B to emerge on the patio, smiling and holding out a Coors Light, like he’d done so many other times before.

JJ clears his throat and shakes his head, willing the thought of his friend to dissipate. He steps off his bike, wincing, and makes his way up to the house. JJ has every intention of making it all the way inside, but he stops at the steps, lump forming in his throat, and sits down.

Eyes brimming with tears that are close to spilling over, JJ sighs and puts his head in his hands, taking off his cap and throwing it into the dirt.

Where the hell are Pope and Kiara? JJ thinks. It’s been well over a day and a half since he stormed out of the Heyward backyard and gee, fuck him for assuming his friends might come looking for him or something drastic like that.

JJ pulls his outdated iPhone 6 (a hand-me-down from Kiara when hers got updated – pity it didn’t come with her unlimited data plan) with its smashed screen and broken home button.

No texts, no missed calls.

JJ presses the lock-button, so he doesn’t have to look at the Pogues’ smiling faces in his wallpaper, and tries to reason with himself.

Pope told you he was going to be busy with his interview, you shouldn’t be mad at him. That’s fair enough, he warned you.

Nah dude fuck that, he lied to you! He was sneaking off and banging Kiara.

Speaking of Kie, why doesn’t she want to see me? I thought better of her, I thought we were supposed to be best friends.

Her parents have her on lockdown-

When has that stopped her before?

JJ grunts in frustration and picks his hat back up off the ground, jamming it onto his head over his sweaty blonde hair. He clearly wasn’t going to solve anything sitting here.

--

JJ’s new habit seems to be wandering around the island like a lost boy, as he finds himself walking along the beach, kicking up sand with the toes of his work boots.

He’s not sure what his plan is – maybe he’ll run into Kie or Pope or fuck, literally anyone he knows. What JJ does know is that there’s no chance he’ll run into any Kooks on this side of the island, so at least he won’t have to deal with their pompous asses.

Or so he thinks.

JJ makes it halfway down the stretch of beach before he suddenly hears a sweet, but hoarse voice behind him.

“And here I was thinking I’d never see you again.”

JJ whips his head around and fails to suppress his groan at seeing Scarlett in front of him, dressed this time in a red crop-top and cut-off denim shorts. He resists the urge to run his eyes over her – he’s only human after all, and a teenage boy at that.

“Are you stalking me now?” He asks bitterly but makes no attempt to walk away from her.

Scarlett crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes. “You wish, Maybank.”

“What are you doing here then?”

Scarlett sighs and sits down on a sand dune, motioning JJ to sit down next to her. He briefly considers telling her she’s dreaming but hey, once again she’s giving him attention and being nice and honestly that’s all he needs right now. Some company that’s not going to make him feel shittier about his life. So, he relents and sits down beside her in the warm sand.

Scarlett leans back on one elbow and moves her sunglasses to the top of her head as she replies, “less chance of running into Kooks here.”

“But they’re your-

“-my people?” Scarlett scoffs. “Hardly. Only thing I have in common with them is our family money, everything else is completely at odds.”

JJ smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. It feels nice.

“I’ve heard this story before,” he says. “I’m not much of a reader but “rich girl who’s actually bad ass” sounds pretty familiar.”

Scarlett waves her hand. “Yeah yeah, it’s all true! I even have a dark back story – I’d make a great main character.”

“Let me guess, you’re adopted, and your real family was murdered by some unknown killer.”

“My younger sister died in a car accident, and I was never the favourite child. My parents shipped me off to boarding school, so they didn’t have to deal with me,” Scarlett replies, looking directly at JJ.

It seems an inappropriate time for him to be distracted by how beautiful Scarlett’s dark brown eyes look in the sun.

And yet.

JJ’s eyes widen. “Wait, you’re serious? Fuuuuck, I am so sorry…I had no idea,” he says, grimacing. He’s annoyed at himself – he was just trying to banter, but it’s all fun and games until someone drops a bomb like that.

Scarlett smiles and touches his arm delicately. JJ first notices how cool her hand is, despite the humid day, and then notices she has a fresh coat of dark red polish on her nails.

He tenses, not used to someone being so blatantly touchy like this, least of all a Kook. Scarlett notices and moves her hand back onto the sand, looking at him like she’s about to ask him what the problem is but clearly decides against it.

“It’s fine, honestly. Happened a long time ago and they leave me to my own devices a lot, which makes it easier to do whatever I want.”

JJ nods in understanding. “I get that.”

There’s a comfortable pause before Scarlett abruptly stands up, dusting the sand off her denim shorts. JJ looks at her questioningly but stands up too.

“Enough of this emotional shit,” Scarlett says. “I wanted to talk to you to a) apologise for my behaviour this morning-”

“-it’s fine-”

“-and b) invite you out tonight.”

“Out?” JJ asks.

Scarlett nods. “I think we’re both in need of some fun and some company. Why don’t you come to mine tonight? My parents are out again, and they’ve got a pretty sweet liquor cabinet.”

JJ can’t believe he’s saying this, but he says, “I’ll think about it.”

Scarlett shrugs. “Close enough. See you tonight, or not,” she says and blows him a kiss before turning and walking away down the beach.

JJ stands there stunned for a moment (definitely because of the sheer absurdity of the situation and not because he checked out her ass as she walked away) and thinks over his options.

He’s not sure he wants to willingly wander back into Kook territory for the second night in a row, never mind go into one of their houses.

Although, he thinks to himself. Where’s the harm in spending time with Scarlett for the time being until Pope and Kie come around? Because they will, right?

Besides, Scarlett’s pretty nice, pretty hot and she’s willing to hang out with him and give him free booze. What could go wrong?

JJ’s made up his mind and, perhaps against his better judgement (which was truly shaky to begin with), he finds himself on the roof of Scarlett’s mansion again that night, tapping on her bedroom window.

He starts to worry he got the wrong room or, even worse, the wrong house, when she doesn’t answer straight away but all of a sudden the curtains are pulled back and Scarlett’s excited face appears on the other side of the glass.

She yanks open the window rather haphazardly (JJ suspects she’s gotten into her parents’ grog early), the cool glow of the moonlight making her teeth an iridescent white as she grins widely up at JJ.

“So glad you could make it, Maybank. Let’s get this party started.”

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[fandom-necromancer]

The storm on the horizon Part 2

This was prompted by the wonderful @downeyjrfreak! Sorry to leave you on yet another cliffhanger! I will upload the next part tomorrow with the other story, but it would have gotten too long for just today!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Characters: Gavin Reed, RK900, Captain Fowler [Part1]   [Part3]

The years passed. The world changed. Gavin Reed stayed the same.

A revolution came and went, androids were persons now apparently, Elijah got his job back and Gavin stayed a Detective. He wondered for how long though. The events of that day two years ago had never left him. It shouldn’t be surprising when you were seconds away from being murdered on the open street by a machine that personally unveiled all the corporate shit Cyberlife was hiding. People had been killed for just knowing too much. People that simply disappeared because they got an early glimpse of what was about to hit them full force a year later. Just so Cyberlife could continue to sell their androids, make money, get richer. And Gavin couldn’t do anything about it. Cyberlife let him live because Elijah had thought for it. The deal had been both their silence and Elijah’s job for Gavin’s life. And that very deal had condemned them to idleness during these two hell-years.

It had been hard for Gavin to continue working as an officer. He had felt like a dirty cop investigating all these cases of deviancy and writing it up as malfunctions or accidents. When he knew with every new case how the issue got out of hand, how more and more androids went rogue and disobeyed. Some days he spent sitting at his window watching the people walk by wishing just to tell them how dangerous those androids were. Not only considering they planted a walking talking surveillance bot in their homes and trusted it with their kids, their family, vital work like cooking and driving them around, but also knowing they were unstable machines that could malfunction and wake up any minute.

He had to admit, most of these cases it had been the human’s fault for treating the bot like shit, but each and every case he thought back to his very own experience. An android knowing it would be replaced, threatening people, shooting around with a weapon it found, nearly hitting Gavin. It was dangerous. There wasn’t even any malicious thinking involved there. One day you just had enough of your old computer and got a new one. And of course, there was the android that had hunted him, had followed him just to kill him without mercy. What would happen would one of these machines go rogue? If they already had the freedom to take a life, what horrible things would that kind of android be able to do?

He guessed it didn’t matter now. Androids were praised as being the new form of life on planet earth. Gavin had been told all sorts of things: They were better than humans, they were there to save humans from dangerous jobs, they weren’t dangerous and even more human than humans could be. As if that was something good. Gavin had spent his life scraping up the shit humans were capable of creating from the streets and into prisons. But god forbid someone said that out loud. No, Gavin had to sit in his chair, look at his desk and work like nothing happened. As if not all around them androids were passing by free from all boundaries and very, very capable of killing him in one blow.

He had managed to adapt. Connor arriving at the precinct had been a shock. That face, a face he would never be able to forget as it haunted him day and night, now stared into his face, grinning, holding out a coffee for him. Needless to say, he had flipped and coped with his fear the only way he could: lashing out. Because telling people the truth wasn’t an option if he didn’t want to meet that vicious killer again and discover how a bullet to the heart without a bulletproof vest felt like. His plan had been to behave like an asshole, so any sane person would keep him away from the android. He hadn’t expected it to backfire as he saw the signs of deviancy in Connor and tried to do damage control before the situation could get out of hand. Trying to keep an android send by Cyberlife that was about to go deviant from vital evidence that could finally lead to the world realising what had been happening for two years now, had ended with him in the hospital with a severe concussion.

Learning that the revolution had taken a good turn against all odds and lead to a form of society that wasn’t built on genocide of one half, had been a relief. Soon after, Elijah had taken his place at the top again, what lifted the lingering danger of being executed for surviving off his shoulders, too. He had thought that to be the end to this horror and that he would be able to get back to work and do what he could do best.

He knew he was wrong, when not two days after being released from the hospital, he was called to Fowlers office and stood face to face with his worst nightmare. He tried to jump back, fell on his behind and screamed. He wasn’t even embarrassed about it. Fowler and the android looked at him in silence, then it turned towards the Captain and said without: ‘Sir, I can’t work with this man.’ Fowler stared at them mouth agape at what just happened. ‘What?’ ‘You- you- you’, Gavin pointed at the thing accusingly, but couldn’t articulate his thoughts more than that. ‘Yes, Detective, I’m aware’, the android commented in Gavin’s direction. Towards Fowler he explained: ‘Captain, I’ve tried to kill this man. I can’t work with him.’ ‘You tried what?’ ‘Cyberlife ordered me to kill Detective Reed because of his knowledge of deviancy in 2037. His brother saved him using admin commands. I don’t think partnering us up would greatly contribute to a raise of work efficiency.’

Fowler stared at the android that stood ramrod straight in front of him, face entirely neutral and hands clasped behind his back. Then at Gavin who still seemed to wish he could merge through walls to escape. ‘Is that true?’ Gavin nodded quickly. ‘Yes. It is. And I’m on his side, please don’t partner me up with this thing.’ ‘Well shit’, the Captain sighed. ‘We are the only precinct with vacancies at the moment though. Would you be able to work in the same building? The android nodded. ‘It’s not a problem with me, but you should rather ask the Detective if he is comfortable with this.’ ‘Gavin?’ ‘I… I will try’, he said, standing up slowly but keeping the door in reach.

‘I thank you for that advance trust, Detective’, the android said and turned towards him. That was it, Gavin had the handle in hand. ‘And I want to formally apologise. Cyberlife’s actions are not mine. I hope that with time I can prove that.’ ‘J-just stop talking’, Gavin sputtered out, knuckles turning white. ‘And don’t come near me.’ The android immediately took a step back. ‘Of course, Detective.’ ‘That I can work with.’

‘Alright’, Fowler sighed. ‘Nines, you can go now. Gavin, I would ask you to stay. I believe you have a story to tell me.’ ‘He doesn’t have to, Captain, I already transferred a statement to your terminal as the Detective is a victim here.’ ‘Thank you, Nines, but I would like to discuss that with Gavin in private.’ The android nodded courtly. ‘Have a nice day then Captain, Detective.’

Gavin stared after the android and fell into the chair in front of Fowler’s desk exhaustion creeping up at him. It stayed silent for a while, then he sighed deeply. ‘Go ahead, ask away.’ ‘You were nearly killed?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘And you never said anything?’ ‘Cyberlife wanted to silence anyone who knew of deviancy. Guess they thought they could resolve the issue themselves somehow. I learned of deviancy and was supposed to be killed by this thing that’s now walking in our precinct. Elijah managed to make a deal. We both never tell anyone, and he resigns. That’s how I stayed alive. Believe me, Captain, if I could have seen a way, I would have told you.’ ‘Holy shit.’ ‘Exactly’, Gavin nodded. ‘You don’t want to know how my nightmares looked like, believe me.’ ‘I get a pretty good image looking at your reaction to Nines. Do you know what happened to those who made these decisions?’ ‘According to Elijah most of the board members fled the city during the revolution. Those who didn’t he plans on anonymously report for their crimes as soon as he found evidence.’ ‘Are you willing to testify against them if they are brought in?’ ‘Gladly.’ ‘Good. Let me know if I can help you any other way.’ Gavin nodded. ‘Thanks. I appreciate it. I think my legs will support me now.’

-

Work wasn’t really possible that day. Not when his murderer sat across the room and was working away. Not when every move of the machine made Gavin twitch and his heartbeat quicken. He more or less managed to get the minimum done for today and hurried out to get back home and forget everything that just happened.

He stood in the fresh snow next to his car, key in hand as a certain machine called out to him: ‘Detective!’ Gavin startled, hand on his gun and ready to take cover behind his car. The android in turn lifted his hands up. ‘Please, don’t pull your gun. I will remain standing here, I won’t get any closer.’ ‘What do you want?’ ‘Talk in private. You are stressed by my presence, I am sorry. I wanted to tell you I already asked for a transfer before even meeting you. The moment there is a vacancy, I’m gone.’ ‘Okay. That’s it?’, Gavin asked, not even thinking about getting his hand off his pistol. ‘Basically, yes. I also wanted to ask how I can-‘

The sound of screeching tires in the darkness interrupted the android and with shock he saw a black car with switched-off headlights race towards Gavin. ‘Watch out!’, he shouted, but the human had already jumped aside. The car crashed into Gavin’s vehicle. Not caring for the damage, a door opened, a person reached out for Gavin and pulled him into the car. Nines was already running towards them since the crash, but he had been too far away to do anything. A shot echoed through the parking lot as he tried to get to them, and he felt the bullet pierce through his shoulder. Still he tried to get inside the car, but with spinning tires it was already departing, driving through the bushes and speeding off into the distance.

Nines ran after them into the open street, but there was no way he could follow them. Meanwhile, multiple officers from the bullpen had hurried outside looking at him questioningly. He just shook his head. ‘Gavin has been kidnapped.’

[>next part]

[firemblem-fics]

Smitten Kitten [Finale]

one | two | three | four | finale

-> Pairing: Felix x Female!Reader | Hybrid!AU (mostly platonic idk)

-> Warnings: Abuse mentions, Like Two Sex Jokes, Yelling

-> Genre: Angst, Fluff

-> Word Count: 1.6k

-> Summary: You never wanted to be involved with hybrids. They were risky and had too many rules for you. But what will you do when a little black and white cat that you take in turns out to be the very thing you steered clear of?

-> A/N: Okay so the more i wrote this the more i realized it was more platonic than anything and also it barely fucking features felix and i’m just very unhappy with it i suppose ... maybe in the future i’ll rewrite idk i’m really sorry for this i kinda hate it but i’ve been working on it for so long i didn’t want to make people wait longer

Soon, the bell rang once more and you turned your head, finally making eye contact with those red eyes you'd been longing to see for weeks.

"Fe!" You nearly stumbled forward as you rushed towards the hybrid, your heart leaping as you reached out to-

"Don't touch him!"

Karen's shrill voice was like an invisible wall that was keeping you away from Felix. You almost shrunk back as she yelled, but you stood tall. The Hybrid Services needed to see that you were strong and fully capable of taking care of Felix and you were determined to do just that.

You only looked at Felix expectantly. He went to walk over to you, but was stopped with an extremely harsh tug on his leash. He hissed at Doug, who was talking to an HPS officer with a hardened gaze.

Karen, on the other hand, walked coolly up to you. "What's your problem?" She sneered.

"My problem? You're hurting Felix."

"We're just disciplining him," She rolled her eyes, "Sometimes a savage animal needs a few hits to get the rules in their head. Felix plays too many games that we don't feel like dealing with."

"Then why do you keep him?"

"Have you seen the boy? He's gorgeous. He's won multiple awards and thousands of dollars at Hybrid Shows. A bit of pain is worth the prize."

It was your turn to roll your eyes. "He's gorgeous, yeah? Is that why you felt the need to cover his bruises with makeup? I took care of Felix for two months and he never caused any trouble. He was polite, respectful, thoughtful, and never once did he need to be 'punished'. He's not the problem- you are."

"Why you-"

"Mr. and Mrs..." An officer called the couple away from you. He began showing them all of the messages between you and Felix- proof of their wrongs.

You, on the other hand, turned to the cat-boy and finished what you started, throwing your arms around his torso and squeezing him tightly. In return, Felix only stiffened up. He didn't know where to put his hands, choosing to rest them on your shoulders as his chin laid on the crown of your head. You only got a few seconds of alone time before another pair of arms wrapped around the two of you.

"How sweet, a reunion! I'm sniffing out a kiss and some 'I missed you' sex later on- OW!"

Felix's hand went from your shoulder to Sylvain's stomach, stopping him in his sentence. "Go fuck yourself."

"Only if you watch me~"

You laughed, pulling back from the hug and looking over at Ashe, who was now engaged in a conversation with one of the HPS officers. You were more than thankful to have him at your side. Ashe had gone through the same little trial to get custody of Sylvain, so he was more than willing to help you get Felix out of his shitty situation as well.

Ashe had explained to you how Hybrid cases worked. Evidence would be presented to officers or a Hybrid Facilitator, such as Nancy, and they would make the call as to what happens next. You would be presenting evidence of Karen and Doug’s abuse to them and asking for Felix to be placed in your care. Lucky for you, Felix could speak on your behalf as well since he had stayed with you for two months.

You were scared. Felix was a big boy. He hid his emotions and stayed strong throughout the shit that his owners put him through, but even the strongest people have their limits. Unfortunately for you, Felix was still a hybrid. Legally considered an animal and treated as even less.

You couldn’t give him the freedom that he deserved, but you would try your damn hardest to give him a happy life.

You nearly teared up thinking about it and Felix must have noticed, for amidst his and Sylvain’s bickering he subtly placed his hand on the small of your back. It stayed there when the officers gathered everyone together, letting both sides present their cases. You spoke first.

“Two months ago, I found a little black and white cat in a dumpster. He was cold, hungry, and unhappy. I took him in and learned later on that he was Felix. Felix stayed with me for two months. I was under the presumption that he was kicked out of his old home- that was what he had told me, anyways.” That earned you a glare from the man beside you. “But I sheltered him for about two months, waiting for someone to come looking for him. They never did, so I took him here to get some papers filled out and make him legally… mine.”

You spat out the last word. God, did you hate the idea of having a human as a pet. Felix’s thumb brushed your back again, providing you with his own quiet form of comfort and amping you up to continue.

“I came, got some papers, and left. I should have known that he would have had papers under Doug and Karen’s name, but since I believed that they no longer wanted him, I went ahead and took ownership. Then they came up to my door later that day and took him. He had actually run away from them.

Felix put up a fight at first- he didn’t want to go. I gave him Sylvain, the other hybrid’s, phone so that he could still message me if he needed anything. The minute he left, he sent me a voice recording of those two screaming at him in the car. Since then, all of those messages had been sent as evidence that Karen and Doug have threatened him and harmed him emotionally, verbally, and physically. I want Felix to stay with me. They called him a behavioral issue, but I know how to treat him. I’ve never had an issue with him. Ever. I want full ownership of Felix Hugo Fraldarius.”

Nancy nodded and pointed to the couple, who were fuming on the other side of the room. Karen practically stormed up to Nancy and the officers, her face redder than Sylvain’s hair and voice more annoying than Sylvain himself.

“She obviously stole Felix from us!”

“What the fuck?” Said hybrid suddenly interrupted. An officer shushed him and motioned for Karen to continue.

“Felix is an award-winning, purebred Fraldarius tuxedo cat. He’s won thousands of dollars in prize money and trophies and awards, so of course a lower class girl like her would want such a high end Hybrid. He would win her money. She could have easily turned him into the facility, but she didn’t, so she stole him from us!”’

Karen had a point- you should have turned Felix in, but you couldn’t. The little cat had wormed his way into your heart more and more every day- even if he was kind of an ass in the beginning.

He still is an ass, but a little less now. You knew that when his arm moved from your back to around your shoulders, thumb now soothing the skin there.

“Wh- I didn’t even know he was a show cat until you two showed up and told me!” You defended. His hand gripped tighter as if already trying to hold you back. You were rather ready to tear this lady to shreds, honestly, so he was helping.

“You’re such a little liar- and those videos, too! They’re obviously fake. You don’t deserve Felix, you deserve to be jailed for stealing our precious prize!”

“Prize?! You don’t even see him as a real being with feelings and emotions or anything! Look-“ You suddenly licked your thumb, turning around and swiping underneath Felix’s eye. “He’s got bruises that you gave him and hid. Your face and fist are in that video. I’ve got selfies I took of him and I when he was in my care- there are no injuries, so they obviously happened in your care.”

“And how do they know you didn’t use makeup to hide the bruises you gave him?” Karen accused. God, she really was going the extra mile here. “Listen, little bitch, Felix is ours and he will be if I have to pry it from your little dead fingers.”

“You won’t lay a hand on her.” Felix speaks up. He turns to Nancy and sighs. “I wasn’t going to say anything because my pride heavily prevented me, but I am afraid of Karen and Doug. They have abused me in the last few years that I’ve been in their care and I can’t do it anymore. I can recount every single instance where they have harmed me and I will gladly do it if it means I can get the hell away from them and go with people who actually treat me well.” His face stayed straight as he spoke, his eyes hardened in a desperate attempt to show everyone how he wasn’t affected. Felix never was one to show his feelings- you were proud that he did this.

The officers, who had stayed silent for the entire time, looked at each other.

One sighed and spoke up. “You two are under arrest for Hybrid cruelty and will be investigated further and punished as charged.” He turned to you, “Do you mind if we keep the phone for a while to extract evidence?”

“I mind-“

“Not at all.” You cut off Sylvain, “He can go a little longer without his phone. He needs to go longer.”

The officer thanked you and led the two away, nearly kicking and screaming.

Nancy watched as they left, typing some things into her computer before standing up. “If any of you can follow me to the back, I need to put the proper information on a new collar tag.”

Ashe volunteered and dragged Sylvain back with him, leaving you and Felix alone at the front. You turned back to him and slipped your arms around his waist once more. Felix looked around, making sure nobody was near before holding you back properly this time. A purr erupted from his throat- quiet, but soothing as your ear was pressed against his chest.

“You’re coming home, Fe.”

“I’m already home right here with you.”

[lucidpantone]

Reacting to reactions: Kynicole s4 ep1 (comments edition)

Okay, so you know when something comes out and you need to talk about it with other humans because you can’t hold it in?  This is me right now with the youtube comments on kynicole’s reaction video. I am about to burst 🤯.

**First and foremost lets thank kynicole for doing what most of us aren't willing to do for ourselves which is revisit the trainwreck that is wtFOCK s4.**

Disclaimer: This is long as hell

Ok so literally first comment I see is this:

People!!! Moyo from all the information we’ve been given as a fandom am pretty sure is not blocked. You know that saying, actions speak louder than words?Well let's analyze the actions of wtFOCK(particularly Rutgers) and Noa. I have asked sooo many people about the block question and I always get the same answer “I don’t know”. Which coupled with everything else that has played out tells me a lot. Ok firstly, we are all aware that wtFOCK is yet to comment on or even acknowledge s4. The newsmonkey article wtFOCK did after every season they skipped entirely after s4. You know what wtFOCK did do? They sent out Nora b4 s4 even ended to calm down the fandom. Oh lets send the WOC out to quell the screams from all the fans that are screaming at the injustice of giving this season to Romi(who was a way less experienced actor, who had no previous backstory on the show, who no one asked for, who was white, a legitimate model, and to put it simply didn’t work anywhere near as hard as Noa for 3 seasons). Anyways here is why I am pretty sure Moyo isn't block.

Think about everything we know about Noa as a human being the way he treats the fans, his demeanor and just overall vibe. To me he seems like a very nice person, he writes back to most of you guys when you talk to him. I saw him comment heart emojis to fan accounts that commented on his award acceptance the other day and you know what he said at the award “That the fans are the most important thing”. Now connect the Noa we know from his actions to his own words on the day the main was revealed:

To me this tweet implies whatever he is speaking about involved a choice and the chooser chose to make money over morality. Now lets exam Rutgers actions. He has never publicly spoken about the season and the reason I believe he doesn't speak is because any decent journalist is going to ask him to explain his casting choice. Also your telling me that if Moyo had been blocked after week 4,5,6,7,8 of having the fandom hurl insults at wtfock and also Romi calling a meeting they wouldn't have used their end of the season interview to confirm Moyo wasn’t an option to shut the fandom up? Oh and last week Noa accepted the award for wtfock and Rutgers posted Noa on his story??? Moyo wasn’t the main of s4. Wouldn't it make sense to have a main accept the award? Why Noa? Rutgers is not stupid. I don’t believe for one second that Moyo was blocked. What I believe is that wtFOCK’s leadership who happens to all be white men are to embarrassed to go on the record and say “yeah Moyo wasn’t block but we still didn’t chose him” and that instead of giving the season to Noa who worked his ass off for 3 seasons they gave it to Romi because they thought “her look” was more appeasing to advertisers. Her look was obviously what sold them on her because next to Noa we know who the better actor was and Noa literally landed a feature film to prove that. Anyways everyone needs to stop pushing this idea that Moyo was blocked because if you actually look at everyone’s actions involved its pretty clear to me he wasn't blocked and Rutgers and the team are refusing to confirm what to me is fairly obvious answer because they know they are going to get fucking dragged. Also whoever this commenter is they know what's up. I agree with everything you stated:

☝️☝️☝️Say it louder sis. wtFOCK bypassed Noa on purpose they chose to do what they did to him. I do genuinely believe they regret the decision now because from everything I heard I really do believe they wish they could go back and chose Noa but the damage is done. 

Next YT comment:

You know when early on in the season a bunch of POC said that this season was merely a platform to embolden and give free reign to those who already harbored racial micro-aggression 👇👇👇

Oh surprise, surprise..... this commenter sees no redeeming qualities in both black boys who in their respective remakes are written as being homophobic, with undertones of aggression and as bad friends. Oh and then this commenter points out how poor Moyo treated Kato. Bwahahahaha what?? Yea Moyo insulted Kato but he never accused her of being a drug dealer, or implies she has a drug problem, or racially profiles members of her community or manipulates her with saying I love you as a form of keeping her but Moyo treats Kato badly. GTFO!!! I am sure this commenter is a Mailin stan too and would say Ava isnt someone she would be interested in seeing main either. Wonder what all these characters have in common🤔. This type of commentary is what created the divide that still resides in the wtfock fandom to date. This shit is what tore the fandom apart and eventually led people to leave the fandom or take time off because people went for each others throats as the season got worse and those who defended wtfock at the beginning were eaten alive. Honestly tho I dont want to excuse people’s troublesome povs on race but wtFOCK’s decision to make a season where their white main never fully apologizes or owns her behavior with the appropriate language perpetuates a pattern of bad behavior so am kinda of not shocked no one came out with some insight on race relations after s4 if anything probably with less of an education then they began with because wtfock themselves peddled the agenda that its ok to silence people of color (as they did with moyo at the end of the season, he never says his piece to kato and stays with her) and Kato never takes ownership of her actions and states that her actions stem from some form of racial micro-aggression.

Final Comments reviewed:

I mean.... look I will always adore season 2 & 3 of wtfock. Nothing will ever change that for me but these people ☝️☝️are right. It takes a real fan to be honest with themselves and to me this is the worse season in the universe and it makes me so sad mainly because it could have been the most fearless, ground breaking season but wtfock made a choice. They literally had the opportunity to go big and do something that had never been done before and in the end they choked and paid the ultimate price. What a waste.......could have been amazing the had the perfect actor to main and they fucking blew it because in their mind Moyo wasn't an important enough story to tell 😞.

p.s. I noticed kynicole said at least half a dozen times in her video I still dont get why this wasn’t in Moyo’s pov? Literally said EVERYONE!!!

[wheelersdealer]

The Schmucks

Request: Will do you a Steve imagine? About when him and Robin were captured by the Russians but instead of them beating up Steve they beat up the reader - Anonymous. Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Warnings: STRANGER THINGS SEASON 3 SPOILERS! Profanity, descriptions of blood, gore, and beatings. A/n: Requests are open for S3! Hope you enjoy!

They beat you bloody.

Nose pouring and teeth stained, your knees drag against the metal flooring before they chuck you down right against it. And it hurts in the moments you’re conscious for it — only flickering in and out — but you are gone in seconds, unable to feel the immeasurable pain in your face and stomach, not even able to feel the slighter feeling of blood soaking your shoes and socks.

You do feel another weight right before you pass out completely. 

It’s Steve being thrown onto the floor by his guards. He isn’t in the best state emotionally, but compared to you his psychical attributes are completely clean. You hear him grunting and shouting at the guards, you hear him yelp right before he comes down to the floor with you.

But you don’t feel him force himself on his elbows and knees to nudge you, saying quickly “Hey, hey! Y/n? Y/n? Come on — Y/n?!”

A buzzer sounds and in comes what Steve can only assume is the lieutenant, leader? Hell, maybe even the head guard. 

“What did you do?!” He shouts while on his knees. And following a low growl he wills himself to his feet and dashes straight toward the guy, his head out and ready. The best he can do is butt him in the stomach with it, using his side, shoulder, elbow and everything to add to the pain. But considering the weak and pathetic huff of air the lieutenant gives out, Steve doesn’t have the energy for this. 

And when he stumbles back he makes the mistake of looking down at you. 

That’s when the lieutenant’s friend steps in, grabs a fistful of Steve’s hair, and juts his knee up and cracks his jaw. Steve falls back and tries to catch his breath through gritted teeth, but in this position he’s just that much closer to you. 

So up he scrambles, crawling again and whimpering (never mind his lack of breath) as he shakes your shoulder with his cuffed-together hands. “Wake up! Y/n wake up!”

One of them snaps their fingers then the guards come around him. One for you, two for him. That one holds you around the stomach and hauls you to your unconscious feet. He drops you into a chair sat against the one Steve’s thrown in.

“H-Hey — HEY!” He growls and tries looking over his shoulder. He can see them touching you, holding your body up in the chair and in place while they wrap the belt around you two. “Don’t touch HER!” He started flailing, trying to escape as best as he can but all that he achieves is a slap to the face and a hand locked tight in your hair. He coughs up, blood in his nose finally starting to come out his nostrils and dribble down the back of his throat, but the lieutenant just clicks his tongue satisfied at all of the blood and bruises on you.

“Y/n? Y?n?! C-Can you hear me?” Try all he may, even pushing his feet against the ground does nothing to slide your chairs even the tiniest bit this or that way.

The lieutenant drops your head. Steve hears autonomous gurgling as your body tried to rid your throat of the blood that’s built up in it.

“I think your friend needs a doctor,” he says in his accent. He rubs his hands (sticky and stained with your blood) on a white washcloth. He shakes it out as he comes to face Steve. And with a smile he bends his knees. “Good thing….” He tilts his head, “We have the very best.” 

Steve can feel the heat in his nostrils like a bull about to go rogue. 

He doesn’t give a shit about the blood and how it was getting into his mouth now — he throws his head back then rams it forward, his skull making a harsh connection to the lieutenants pointy nose. 

And he screams…

It’s a loud, guttural groan as he stumbles back and pinches his nose. It’s not broken — no no, it’s not broken. But it’s red and purple, bruised and on its way to becoming bloody, even if just a little bit. 

He doesn’t need to say it. The look he gives Steve perfectly encaptures the idea that he would regret it.

And he does. Only a little bit.

None of the others come to their lead’s aid, only holding Steve’s shoulders in place and one taking grip of his head while the guy pads at his nose with the cloth before bawling it up and stuffing it in Steve’s mouth. He uses his fingers to push it deeper, not caring when he feels them hurt upon making a connection to the roof of Steve’s mouth, a connection only softened by the cloth. He spits down at Steve’s feet and Steve screams into it, screams at the guys as they leave the scene.

Once while at work you watched him obnoxiously lick clean a sample spoon he used every day at closing to give himself a quick treat. He’d manage a big scoop too, despite how little and weak the blue plastic was. He was so, so obnoxious, but he knew he was, and he only continued because you knew it too and you laughed about it together — him, Robin, and you. 

“Your tongue is gigantic,” you told him with no intention on guiding the conversation in a less savory direction. You were merely stating fact. 

But he wiggled his brows and giggled “Is that so?” While taking another obnoxious lick to really clean it. 

“You know there’s a muscle in that thing? The whole thing — its just one muscle?” Robin chimed in. You hummed, impressed, and she too wiggled her brows at you. Then she lifted herself up onto the counter and let her legs sway as she watched you count the day’s earnings and watched Steve lean over the ice cream containers and lick up the spoon’s handle which he also managed to get covered in ice cream. “Who knows. With all the sucking face you do I’d say you’ve got yourself a pretty strong tongue.”

It was a gross idea but you muttered “True.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Great pick up line — ‘hey ladies, they say I’ve got a strong tongue, wanna test it out?”

“Yess!” Robin hissed, clapping her hands.

You clapped your hands once before howling basically, shouting “WOOO! That’s what I’m TALKING about Harrington! You just gotta get your head in the game.”

He craned his neck to watch you head into the back. ��Please enlighten me on a situation where I’d be able to whip out my strong tongue.” After looking around the room (some families still finishing up) he stood and raised his brows in warning. “And keep it family friendly.”

“Eh, who knows. Your freakishly large tongue might come in handy some day. In a not 18 and up way.” 

Steve winces realizing that yes, it did. He pushes the wadded cloth out of his mouth and can’t help but spit up on his own uniform, the taste of your blood too strong for him. He keeps trying to jump again, get your chairs moving. 

“Hey, hey, Y/n?” He throws his head over his shoulder to try and bump against yours. 

“Y/n are you okay?”

“Pl-please talk to me Y/n…” he makes your seats jump again. “Y/n!?”

He drops his head and looks at his lap. He sees the blood;  it’s your blood from when he crawled over to you. He shakes his head and the sorrow in his voice turns into something casual, with a little bit of contempt. 

He scoffs. “Come on…after everything this is what gets to your head?” And rolls his eyes (though it pains him), “I mean, literally…I guess.” And you still weren’t talking. What was he trying to do? Wake you up through the power of making fun of you? Well, yeah…

“Y/n y/n y/nnnn!” His feet tapped rhythmically with his voice. Still didn’t wake up.

He tries to make himself chuckle, but only a sob comes out. He shakes his head at himself in shame and takes a moment to breath deep. 

“Come on…come on Y/n…Ugh…..At this rate I’ll be single at 25, you can’t die on me now.” Still nothing. So he chuckled weakly. “Remember that? When we uh…a-after Nancy uhm…After Nancy left? And you were lonely and I was lonely and we…we said we’d get together? Right? We said we’d like-we’d date. Or-or get married, or something, just do something if we were both single and miserable and alone at 25?” He huffs when still, there’s nothing. “Yeah…weird day. But I thought it was fun…and then you said how we could probably just totally pig out on our honeymoon. Just….“ 

He closes his eyes tight shut. “And you called me a trust fund baby and I got really offended even though I technically am? But anyways, you went on this whole speech about how we’d dress up all fancy and I’d introduce you to my parents as my girlfriend of six years or something and you’d be super super sophisticated and we’d take them on a train ride and we’d be dressed all fancy like we were snobby rich pricks in a murder mystery, and how they’d basically buy us the ring cause they’d love us together so much, and then we would take the ring and all the wedding money, elope in Vegas, and I dunno, go spend the rest of our days living in the woods like Hopper and shit, just pretending we’re a different couple every time we go out in public and make a mythical name for ourselves among all those snobby restaurants in Los Angeles?”

That was certainly a day…A long one where Robin did most of the work but you paid her with a twenty and the promise that you’d spill all the secrets about a group of friends you strangely hung out with in high school that she was just dying to get the dirt on. 

Steve thinks about it. Really thinks about it.

He thinks it would have been fun. 

He whimpers at the thought. And he sobs a little…at first it’s a laugh but the tears build up in his throat and then he’s cackling but he can’t see behind the fog in his eyes. 

“Can you imagine you in your little beret? In fucking France?” He’s sure that’s what you called it that once. “And-and a freaking turtleneck? And you — Y/n Y/l/n smoking while I pretend to actually like wine tasting? Gosh…” he sniffles and shakes his head at the ground, still smiling. “Can’t believe there’s guys that do that for a living…”

“Don’t die on me Y/n.” He gulps. “I can’t. I seriously can’t go back to that guy I was before. I mean,” he laughs, “meaningless sex is nice but man I really wonder what it’d be like to act like I’m Mr—“ he sputters, “Robert Vanderbilt or some snobby shit on a freaking boat! Who am I gonna do that with, huh? Yeah…maybe, maybe Robin. But I just…I don’t know…Y/n I don’t know…I really don’t…”

Steve scrapes his shoes against the floor. 

“Stop being so sappy dude…” You cough out.

Steve jumps and you feel your chair moving when he does.

“Y/n? Y/n holy shit! You’re awake?” He keeps wiggling, trying to free himself. But you’re quiet again, nodding in and out. “Y-you okay?”

You press your tongue to your cheek. You can feel where it’s swelling. “Well, everything’s throbbing, my ears are ringing, can’t really breathe, eye feels like it’s ‘bout to pop outta my skull but besides that I’m uh…” you taste your cheek again, “I’m pretty good.” 

“Oh shit — holy shit you had me really worried there.”

You scoff. “Is Robert Vanderbilt the best fake name you can come up with?”

Steve cackles and tries leaning back again. It doesn’t bother you feeling his head on your shoulder, especially since you can’t muster the strength to lift your own back up there. “You heard that? How…how much did you hear?”

“Mmmm…” You close your eyes for a second and Steve jerks your chairs, forcing you awake. “I uhm…good enough. I heard a good enough bit.” 

“Okay…okay…”

“Hey Steve?”

“…Yeah Y/n?”

You smack your lips. “When we get outta here can we go to ‘rance?”

Steve chuckles. “France? You wanna go to France?”

“Mmmmhmm.” 

He shrugs. “Eh, well I was actually thinking we might shoot our shot and visit Russia. How about that?”

You finally lift your head. His head rests on your shoulder, your head rests on his. He does most of the work trying to crane his neck to get a good enough look of your face. And lucky for you the eye that’s swollen is on your other side. You can actually see him without fuzz and without a splitting feeling in your brain every time you try to focus.

“That idea….I like that one…but first, we have to get out of here.” 

“Agreed. Okay, uhm,” Steve looks around and the first thing he spots is, “Scissors….Y/n, do you see those scissors?” You look to your left. “No, your right.” So you look to your right. There’s a little metal table. There’s a pair of stainless steel scissors and some other whacky utensils. “So, how about on uh, on three? On three we’re gonna try and jump in that direction, okay?”

“‘Nd cut our binds?”

“Yeah yeah, you’re getting it! Okay, ready? One, two…three!” 

You jump as best as you can and with Steve’s help you get a little closer to the table. You choke on your own laughter, blood still caught in your throat, but you get it up and out through your mouth and onto your clothes fast enough. 

“You-you still doing okay over there?” Steve asks.

“Never better.” You squeeze your swollen eye shut and force a smile. “Gonna do this again?”

“Yup! One, two, three!” And you jump, landing well enough. There’s a bit of a wobble that has your breath hitch immediately and you need a moment considering how busted your lungs are. “Shit! Holy shit okay—great job, great job Y/n! This is gonna work, I feel it! Okay, uh j-just a few more times. Ready?”

You decide to count. “One, two, three!” Steve can hear the determination in your voice when you get to the last count. It makes him feel even worse than an ache in his head can when you both tumble, the legs of your chairs slipping and scraping against the floor before dropping you both on your sides.

You crane your neck up and cough violently, trying to get blood and mucus out of your throat before you reserve to pressing your cheek as tight to the floor as you can cool you. It’s the least this environment can do for you. It’s cold. It’s nice.

And once you get comfortable, embracing the cool tiles, you begin to chuckle. It’s very faint, and wispy.

Steve whimpers thinking you’re doing the same. 

He pushes against your back, pleading “Y/n, don’t-please don’t cry. We’re gonna get out of here, I swear we’re gonna get out of here, okay? And-and we’re uh, we’re going to France! Or y’know, or Russia if you really want to just please don’t cry….” 

And then a much more dignified cackle breaks through your ‘whimpering.’ 

You cough in the middle of it, especially as your laugh becomes hardier.

“Are…are you laughing? Jesus…” 

You stop to groan in pain and Steve’s just as concerned as he was before. But you push it to the side and despite your sore throat you mutter, “I’m just-this is all just—“ you cough again, and Steve can’t help but coo. “I mean…this is ridiculous! Who needs to go to Paris, France, Russia, Rome, wherever and pretend to—“ you cough “—pretend to be a mysterious newlywed couple when we, you and me and Dustin, Mike, Max, now Erica and Robin we-we’re supposed to just go back out there once this is all over and act like we’re not being kidnapped by Russians right now!” You laugh so hard Steve has to shush you in fear of attracting them back to the room. “It’s insane, Steve! And—Heh, that’s even if we get out! Or maybe we’ll die in this secret Russian base and the world will do the honor of playing pretend for us by—PSH, saying we died in a fire or something!” 

Steve sighs. “We’re not gonna die. We’re gonna get out of here, okay? You just—you gotta let me think for a second, alright Y/n?”

You sniffle. “Remember when we uhm…when we were kids?”

Steve winces at the thought.

“And remember,” you roll your eyes, “The three Musketeers? Me…you…and Tommy H….? Third grade? And how we would, uhm…we would play pretend? And we would write stupid little stories and get in trouble all the time but you and Tommy would always take a blame? And we’d go on the playground and we’d make up our own stupid little games. We’d like, roleplay essentially and wonder why our parents got all frazzled and giggly when we told them that’s what we were doing?”

“….Yeah….yeah I remember…” 

You close your eyes and shake your head. “That was so fun man…I never once imagined — psh, especially not after the majority of high school — that we’d be where we are right now. I swear dude, this is some shit we would have thought up back then. And I don’t know to be happy, mad, scared, or sad! Because I wanted this. Man Steve I really wanted this. After uhm…after everything—“ 

Ah yes, the earlier high school years when Steve and Tommy went one way and you went the other. 

“—I just really wanted something just batshit crazy to happen that would bring us together again. And it did when Will went missing and then it did again when heh, we fought round two…But man Steve, now I kind of feel like I deserve this for wanting something ‘batshit crazy’ so bad when I was just this pathetic, lonely little teenage shit.”

“Hey….you weren’t a ‘shit,’ okay? If anyone was, it was me…well, and Tommy.”

“Hey, you were an asshole but at least you admit that.”

“Yeah…I know…” 

“It didn’t matter. So bad I just wanted something no matter how painful or harmful or bizarre…I wanted something to happen so we could be closer again. Without me having to actually do the work and risk being utterly humiliated in front of the whole school by Carol, but whatever. You were a fucking nerd Steve. You were basically a drama kid in disguise — a James Dean wannabe but damn you played the part so well. I just didn’t want to be apart of the ensemble, you know? I wanted to be like, your co-star. I wanted us to do stupid shit on our own and for nothing bad to ever happen, but I wanted us to just drive out into the middle of the night because we wanted to and who knows, just pretend to be stupid rebellious teenagers at some far off gas station just because we were bored….I still can’t help but think how that would have been so fun. In all mediums you’ve just been so…fascinating to me.” 

Steve sighs. “I wanted those things too Y/n.” He takes a breath. “After a while I started despising Tommy cause it was clear to me that he was an asshole even way back then, ruining the fun cause he wanted to be king of some stupid 30 minute game. I went through a lot of scenarios too. In my noggin’, or something.” 

You chuckle. “I’m glad.”

“It just baffles me knowing I could have had everything I wanted back then instead of now. And I-don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I have it now…heh. I just kind of wish  you didn’t have to be tortured by Russians for things to be this way, y’know?”

“I know Steve…I know…” 

He lifts his head and tries looking at you. “How you doing? You feeling okay?”

“Uhm, a bit better,” you lie.” 

Steve lays back down. “Okay, okay…At one point there were so many bad things I never imagined could happen. I thought I would be immune to everything if I got prom king my senior year or something.” He chuckles. “But look at us now. It’s all bullshit…sometimes I wonder if I would have been more prepared if we indulged a bit, had some fun.” 

“Me too Steve, me too.” You sniffle. “But on the bright side…we can practically play pretend all the time now.”

“How?”

You giggle, almost hysterically. “When we get out of here we can pretend to have a normal life now!” 

He chuckles. “Yup, yup. God I both love and hate how that’s true. And when we get out of here we can pull the finish line forward from 25 and make it 19 while we’re at it.”

“Ugh. You’re such a sappy schmuck.”

“Your sappy schmuck?”

You hum, all warm at the thought. “My sappy schmuck…hey you know what?”

“What?”

“Say goodbye to Mr. Robert Vanderbilt and hello to Stephen Schmuck!” Everything hurts with how hard you’re laughing, but it’s such a blissful feeling when compared to everything you don’t even try to slow it down. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Schmuck, huh?” Steve clicks his tongue and smiles. “I think I like the sound of that.”

“I like it too, Steve. I like it a lot.”