#now that I've finally put the quartet to bed

[ferusaurelius]

Spectre Evaluations Quartet

Ya’ll I can’t tell you how glad I am to have finished what started out as a silly one-shot and then decided to transform into a four-part series of developing-relationship ... Kryterius romantic comedy.

AO3 Links:

This will have no bearing on your evaluation.

Above center of mass in all respects.

Preserving joint environment lethality and ingenuity.

Adapt doctrine to circumstance.

... I’ve got a few fun background trivia points to expand on below the cut for anyone who is a fan of the pairing and this overall framework. ;)

Time for some fun character trivia that is alluded to in the stories, but that didn’t quite fit into the fics themselves:

1. This will have no bearing on your evaluation.

Nihlus in this AU is loosely based on the turian mercenary backstory I wrote for him in ‘The husbandry of victory is blood’, though only in the most raw outline. There are a few significant differences that will be apparent to anyone who has read both. It was important to me that Nihlus be both proud of his cultural differences and that Saren eventually take a great deal of care in acknowledging that pride.

I did not INTEND to write the whole quartet in such an experimental flavor of point of view! At least not at first. I tried to write the opening story in Chora’s Den with a more serious tone which just kept failing, no matter how I revised and poked and prodded. At some point, I just got the idea of Nihlus’s characteristic voice and reluctantly leaned into the absolutely ridiculous things it was telling me about what it was like to be a drunk ST&R candidate.

The most shocking moment in writing ‘This will have no bearing on your evaluation.’ (which was always its title!) occurred when wrapping up the ending scenes and realizing that Saren and Nihlus were respectively having two different conversations:

Saren: Realizing that Nihlus was making a genuine attempt to chat him up, since he hadn’t actually known that he was going to be chosen as a Spectre trainee. Saren has no idea what to do about a mentee who is personally interested in him, except put an immediate stop to all those questions so that he can focus on the job at hand. Beyond flustered by the implications, but also doesn’t want to admit to having anything remotely like an emotion, himself.

Nihlus: Confessing his many sins, still (unfortunately) realizing that Saren is actually his type for real and now they’re going to be working together. AWKWARD.

I wanted Nihlus to tell Saren the truth here even though it was going to make him look totally stupid!

The last scene is all about this dynamic and is intended to be the bedrock of their -- unique -- developing relationship:

Saren goes from interested, to blank-faced, to entirely still. Except that now his voice is flat, and his stare looks like it could melt a bulkhead.

“I will say this once,” Saren grates. “I expect you to keep the next two years professional. Your life and mine depend on whether or not you can maintain total focus on what I’m trying to teach you. Are we clear?”

Fuck, he’s hot.

“Aye, sir,” Nihlus answers, as automatic as if he were a fresh Ensign.

Saren accepts this answer, grudging. “While I am disappointed you did not acquire the selection results in advance of the announcement, I can appreciate the sheer audacity of your approach.”

What I intended to do here was illustrate on the one hand that Saren is absolutely laying down some ground rules for training, that Nihlus is still very much attracted to Saren (oops) and still capable of accepting those stated professional boundaries, and that Saren can respect Nihlus’s honesty and is offering a bit of concession or personal disclosure in return.

Even as the author, I didn’t expect Saren to admit that Nihlus had surprised or impressed him in any way. In retrospect (and after having written Saren as the background character in this series), I can see that Saren as a Spectre is used to nothing but lies and obfuscation and has no idea what to make of someone who is willing to confess to the truth of a situation so ridiculous that it beggars belief.

Nihlus doesn’t realize it yet, but Saren finds honesty to be a rare and valuable resource in his line of work. While Nihlus has a habit of constant internal narrative exaggeration, he’s also honest to a fault, especially with people he respects.

2. Above center of mass in all respects.

I wasn’t sure how much time I wanted to let pass between the first fic and this one, or where in the developing relationship I wanted to focus. However! I knew I wanted to stick to my absolutely rancid military jargon titles, and that I wanted to focus in some sense on the ‘evaluation’ implied by the previous story. What situation would create an opportunity for Nihlus to begin to realize that he’d earned Saren’s professional trust faster than anyone else in history?

Enter: the embassy hacking plotline, about six months into Nihlus’s training, after I thought Saren and Nihlus would have had time to get to know each other through regular assignments in the Skyllian Verge. I wanted to imply that they were busy enough outside the confines of the Citadel for something really dumb and standard to get overlooked (Nihlus’s security credentials). 

At this point I also decided that I wanted Alleia (still no surname, hah!) to become a recurring character, and that she needed to be a Blackwatch technical expert stationed on the Citadel. I generally imply that Saren’s usual area of operations is in the Skyllian Verge, so I wanted to set up a situation that would prompt him to return to the Citadel to “take care of things personally.”

It’s implied that a suspected ‘rogue’ salarian Special Tactics Group agent is framing the batarian Special Intervention Unit for a hacking incident at the turian embassy on the Citadel. While I don’t cover this in the story, Saren knows for a fact that he’s well-respected enough that such a plot is unlikely to have been conducted by any of the special operations units he’s already cowed into submission. He suspects independent sabotage conducted by a group he’d already been watching in Zakera Ward, so he sends Nihlus to talk to Alleia while he does his own investigating.

Offscreen, Saren seizes a too-good-to-be-true ambush opportunity to catch the suspect and gets himself blown up in the process. Normal. His calculation is that, if he does end up seriously injured and/or overestimates his ability to shield, Nihlus will be inbound fast enough to handle the rest of the situation -- and it’ll be one less threat to galactic stability, since there will no longer be any questions about infighting between STG and SIU. Which he considers a waste of time and resources when he could be handling real problems.

It’s a MUCH bigger explosion and trap than Saren anticipated (who knew?), but he still walks away thanks to his crazy!strong biotic abilities.

What Saren didn’t anticipate is that Nihlus knows him well enough to intuit every step in his decision-making process and is also FURIOUS about it! 

Nihlus incorrectly interprets the situation as Saren not waiting for backup on a whim, at least until Saren matter-of-factly states that he chose to take the risk only because he had Nihlus inbound as backup:

Nihlus has had enough.

“What, precisely, was the point of calling for backup if you were going to break down the front door. Alone! And then walk into a trap before we arrived?”

He can’t help the fury in his voice. He wants to snarl, too, but lets six years of Hierarchy discipline confine him to glaring full in Saren’s face, instead.

Alleia says nothing in the silence.

“It was a calculated risk,” Saren answers evenly, meeting him stare for stare. “I knew you weren’t far behind.”

This is the first time Saren has expressed that level of trust to Nihlus in so many words! 

Right after this, I got to further reinforce Saren’s level of respect for Nihlus’s abilities and judgment by actually bringing in that first performance evaluation. ;) I had a lot of fun letting Nihlus realize that Saren’s seemingly arbitrary expectations for his assistance were ... very likely ... grounded in a more nuanced view of his abilities than he expected. 

Nihlus is still confused and exasperated, but he’s also never gotten a performance review that unambiguously positive in his career -- much less from someone who appears to be the galaxy’s least enthusiastic mentor. Nihlus was prepared to be reprimanded for yelling at Saren, even if he was right about the risks and there being better alternative plans, but he was totally unprepared for positive feedback. XD

The theme/purpose of this chapter is establishing that Saren and Nihlus both exist with a professional rapport that (until now) they have been building together without openly acknowledging.

I had a great time allowing Nihlus to be beyond frustrated with Saren’s (apparent) neglect in the opening scenes, then frantic and worried at getting a request for backup, then furious about Saren’s decision to walk into a trap, and then finally deflated in the face of Saren’s regard.

Hard for Nihlus to stay mad about Saren relying on him for backup, after all! LOL.

3. Preserving joint environment lethality and ingenuity.

These events take place 18 months into Nihlus’s training, approximately a year after the previous fic’s embassy incident.

You can thank my research for my First Contact War AU fic for the whole opening scene with Nihlus as a marksman and armorer -- it decided to wake up and choose violence! Nihlus as a competitive shooter is a bit of a change from my other mercenary background handcanon thoughts, but it fit this AU setting really well and gave me an excuse to elaborate a bit on where Nihlus might have more expertise than Saren.

Alternative options to embarrass Nihlus I’d originally considered instead of Armax Arsenal Arena: damaged power armor and the undressing trope (but with an undersuit, and having to pretend he’s not attracted to the person he’s helping ... lol); something more mission-fic oriented with Alleia and Thanas as deputies/on loan from their regular units; Nihlus doing something a bit ridiculous and a bit brave and then having Saren get him out of trouble.

I’m really glad I went with the Arena plot in the end! Sparring-as-flirting is a favorite trope of mine, and this setup delivered on all counts. I got to turn it into a roundabout double-date thanks to Alleia and Thanas, with Nihlus snarking about Saren’s problems with pistol technique (see, Nihlus cares!) and then ... getting to write Nihlus doing a surprise trust fall with Saren! And Saren catching him!

They’re both surprised about this, by the way:

A barrel presses up beneath his jaw, and all at once he’s not alone.

“Surrender,” Saren says.

At point-blank, getting shot is gonna sting. He only has one chance to escape.

“Never,” he growls, going deadweight and fully expecting to hit the deck. In a real fight? Nope, not happening. But hitting a target on his back from prone isn't the craziest thing he's ever done.

Which is not what happens. A flare of dark energy catches him in the back, and then recedes until it’s just Saren’s hands between him and a hard landing on the floor.

“Really, Nihlus?” Saren asks, somewhere between amused and exasperated, still out of breath from the snap biotics.

Fuck, he may have miscalculated. Nihlus is warm from his neck to his toes. He’d give anything to see Saren’s face, but he doesn’t dare look.

This was so FUN to write! I didn’t even start knowing how or what was going to happen in this scenario, but the minute the whole ‘Saren catches Nihlus’ idea occurred to me, I knew it was the right direction to take.

Nihlus is expecting Saren’s reflex here to be totally different! He’s expecting to be shot, not caught! Everything happens so fast that there’s no hiding from either of them: Nihlus is personally invested enough to do free armory work for Saren on his off-time, and Saren’s actual instinct here is to keep Nihlus from falling.

Honestly, this was also my first real opportunity to hint that Saren is not as indifferent to Nihlus as he might have been at first. Wherever they started in relation to each other, I wanted to hint that the relationship dynamic and grown and changed in the intervening months even though both of them would still be reluctant to try to define or put any labels on each other.

Joke’s on Saren, too -- he thought he wanted things to stay professional, turns out he actually does kinda like Nihlus personally, as well. Oops! Didn’t see that one coming. ;)

While it’s not explicitly stated, Saren doesn’t have the consistent manual dexterity required to be an accurate shot without additional stabilizer mods or other aids. He prefers to rely on his biotics to do damage instead, though he still carries other armaments as options.

It wasn’t easy to keep this one true to the funny/snarky formula of the others while figuring out how to set up the emotional revelation in the end, but with tweaking it eventually fell into place.

4. Adapt doctrine to circumstance.

This was an absolute bear to write. While I knew that I wanted to at least give Alleia some screentime, and I suspected that was going to be at a promotion ceremony that turned into a larger event than Nihlus anticipated -- the intermediate transitions remained a challenge.

While my FCW AU fic has Saren as a Blackwatch recruit, for this scenario I chose to stick with a biotic Cabal background. 

I knew I also wanted Nihlus to not expect Saren to commit to attending whatever ceremonies were taking place -- so that he could be pleasantly surprised. ;)

The formality of this occasion also let me take a little creative license with what a dress Cabal uniform might look like, as well as setting up Saren’s complex (implied) relationship with his military honors and infamy. I was NOT expecting any of that background to make it into the story, and there’s plenty that is still missing.

For instance: this is the first time Saren’s worn his Star of Palaven in public, too! He received it shortly before he rejected Anderson for Spectre candidacy in this timeline (the paperwork took a little more than seven years), but also not long before he met Nihlus, and there was no graceful way to get used to the protocols since he was already a Spectre when he was officially decorated.

Nihlus has no idea that Saren has already made a number of complicated choices in attending Fleet promotion ceremonies, while also arranging for Nihlus’s surprise promotion ... in a way that all of his Navy peers will respect:

“Not even a whisper of a warning,” she sighs. “If I’d known, I’d have been ready to take vids. Then I could show you what your face looked like when he decided you merited a rank-pinning honor that dates back to before the Unification, delivered by a Recipient of the Star of Palaven.”

Nihlus puts his head in his hands. “Don’t remind me.”

Saren pinning Nihlus with his own rank insignia is one of the few Navy gestures that still has all the old meanings. In front of a Fleet audience? Not a single turian will have missed the significance of that trust being given to someone merc-born.

If he thinks about it too long it still makes him dizzy.

“It was also romantic, if you believe in that sort of thing,” Alleia teases.

He wishes he didn’t.

Again, I had SO MUCH FUN with figuring out how else Saren might potentially choose to make Nihlus’s promotion an occasion.

I’d read somewhere that military officers who were being promoted themselves occasionally gave their old rank insignia to the officers who were coming up behind them, to fill their old position, as a mark of esteem -- and I chose to alter that symbolism a bit for the Hierarchy Navy. 

While I only hint at this in the text: Saren pinning Nihlus with his rank insignia is one of those culturally Hierachy Navy touchstones that mixes the professional and the personal, and it’s also a gesture that, by its nature and by tradition, can only be done once in a career.

Alleia is correct that there are also romantic epics that feature this traditional gesture as a trope! XD

Finally, I knew from the very start that, since Saren was the one to draw the boundaries, he’d also have to be the one to instigate a discussion or an adjustment in the limits he’d set between him and Nihlus.

I considered a number of other scenarios where Saren left a note afterward, or put off that conversation, or did something else other than what happened here: immediately stating his intentions.

It was also hugely fun to work out how Saren might plausibly arrange to make Nihlus’s Spectre promotion as “by-the-book” Navy respectful as possible. I think you’ll agree that he outdid himself. ;)

-

PHEW. Now that I’m finished with the series, I’m also open to other asks. Either about this AU, different background details, turian headcanons, or other curiosities.

If you’re reading this: I have a tentative plan for a longer fanfic featuring these two characters, though with a more traditional POV structure. I’m not a terribly fast writer, so that’s about as much as I can say at this point...

[swift-creates]

@tbb-appreciation-week DAY 2: ECHO (09/04) — No Order 66 AU | Touching Foreheads | "This wasn't supposed to happen."

characters and relationships: Fives, Echo, (dream) mentions of Krell, Rex and Jesse

warnings: Umbara is its own warning, mentions of violence, death and PTSD, one real-world swear word

Notes: I've wanted to write a TBB!Fives AU for a while now, and now i finally did hehe. can you tell i love (hurting) these two

read on AO3

Grabbing tentacles, thick shadows, blue-gray fog, and screams. Fives had seen this in his mind’s eye far too many times.

They could only guess at where Krell would appear next, where he would leap out of the shadows and add to the 501st’s list of casualties with his quartet of lightsabers, four-armed strikes powerful even without using the Force. Fives pushed through the jungle, the terrain that would be difficult to navigate even if they hadn’t been shrouded in darkness. He remained on Rex’s heels even as blasterfire sounded in the distance, a wailing chorus of death overlapping with the repeated audio over the comms. His helmet’s display zoomed through the dark, narrowed in on Krell’s flashing blades slicing through flesh and plastoid. “He’s coming.” He fought down the dread, the nausea that still crept up his throat no matter how much he tried to train himself out of it, and knelt in front of Jesse, blaster at the ready.

Krell was there faster than he thought, his symphony of slaughter following with a sickening crunch of breaking bones, stealing his brothers’ lives with his bare hands, throwing them into unforgiving tree trunks, slamming them into the ground. Fives’ breath caught as he flung Tup by the head, and the younger trooper went falling somewhere past Fives’ line of sight. There was nothing he could do but force the sick feeling down, keep firing. 

Fives blinked and Krell was in front of him. No. No, this isn’t how it went- Panic shot through his thoughts as he was picked up in one monstrous hand, and another raised a blue-bladed lightsaber. No, no no no nonononononononono- Krell brought it down in a sweeping blow, and-

“Fives.” Rex was shaking him awake, but his voice was pitched wrong, like something from a dream, so familiar yet so foreign. 

“Fives, ya snoozin’ bantha, wake up.” 

That was definitely not Rex. He opened his eyes to see Echo staring down at him, the worry ridge between his eyes furrowed despite his light-hearted words. “You okay, vod? You were doing your sleep-wriggling thing again, but you looked… scared.” 

Fives sat up and drew his hands over his face, delaying his response for just a few seconds as he struggled to pack the memories of Umbara back away in their little boxes in his mind. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m… fine. Just a bad dream.” 

Studying his face carefully for a moment, Echo turned so his back was to Hunter and sat on the bed by Fives’ leg. “We both know your bad dreams are bad, Fives. What was it this time?” He leaned in closer, lowered his voice. “Was it Lola Sayu again?”

“No-”

“Rishi?”

“No.” Fives looked away, folded his blanket with shaking hands, hoping Echo wouldn’t notice. But of course, he did. He reached over and took it from Fives, folded it neatly in half, quarters, eighths. Set it aside in one of the Marauder’s storage compartments and put his hand over his twin’s.

“You know you’re shit at lying to me.”

“Language.” Rex would have said it, but Rex wasn’t here, so Fives said it, and it made Echo laugh.

“Calm down there, buir. Omega’s still asleep.” He leaned back against the wall, looking at Fives, waiting for him to go on.

“Umbara.” That made Echo’s eyes widen, and he scooted closer. 

“Oh. Force. You okay?” he asked, softer. “I know you said it was rough.”

Fives huffed dryly. “Rough is one word for it.” He paused, and Echo waited. It took a moment, but he found the story making its way slowly out. Echo didn’t say anything when he was done, just sat close to him, leaned in and pressed his forehead to Fives’. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Fives closed his eyes, leaned into his brother’s warm comfort. “It’s not your fault.” “I wasn’t there,” Echo said simply.

“And I don’t wish you were. You’re better off without those memories, trust me.” 

Pulling back, Echo was quiet for a moment. “I know. But I wish I’d been with you. Even so.”

“Yeah, well. We’ll never know what would have happened, so. No point dwelling on it.” Fives got up and stretched, then squeezed Echo’s shoulder before heading to the ‘fresher. “I’m fine, Echo. Really.” He didn’t look totally convinced, but nodded anyway. 

They went around their day as usual, and occasionally Fives would catch his brother giving him a concerned look. He rolled his eyes. For Force’s sake, he’d said he was fine. 

(But that didn’t stop him from crawling into Echo’s bunk later that night and snuggling as close to him as humanly possible.)

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Oldies But Goodies, Vol. 1 1987 Doo Wop / Pop / R&B / Rock & Roll

Alright, folks, this is probably the last time that I'm gonna be typing out the name Art Laboe for a long while. He's the legendary Los Angeles radio DJ who did a lot of things in his career, including pioneering the art of repackaging oldies hits into various artist compilations—a seemingly simple format that you've likely taken for granted your whole life. However, before Laboe's groundbreaking Oldies But Goodies series was launched in the 50s—a phrase that he himself apparently coined!—scratching one's own nostalgia itch was a much more laborious task than just throwing on a single record to relive some of your faves from years past.

Now, upon its release, this series wound up selling like hotcakes, and it ended up yielding 15 different volumes in total. But as years would go by, rather than releasing more and more volumes after 1985, Laboe's label, Original Sound, insisted on retooling and reissuing these same albums with different tracklists instead. So, this compilation here was released as the first volume in the series, but it's actually a 1987 CD reissue, and its tracklist is markedly different from the actual first volume that had initiated this whole phenomenon decades prior.

Still though, the album's pretty good. Its first half is dominated by sappy doo wop ballads, which is the type of doo wop that I'm not too big a fan of, but it branches itself out nicely in the second half, closing out with a run of four unmistakable killers: Chuck Berry's landmark 1955 debut record, "Maybellene," which was one of the first songs to show people what rock & roll guitar could truly be capable of; The Cadets' "Stranded in the Jungle," an off-beat, moving and grooving 1956 one-hit wonder novelty, with deep-voiced spoken-word verses and jaunty bouts of horn and piano on its choruses; Lloyd Price's superbly catchy and highly popular 1958 New Orleans R&B rendition of "Stagger Lee;" and Etta James' 1955 debut record that never got any play on pop radio because it was deemed too risqué, but crushed it on the R&B chart anyway, "Dance With Me Henry," aka "The Wallflower," aka "Roll With Me Henry."

So, overall, out of all the Oldies But Goodies that I've now had the pleasure of diving into, this 1987 reissue of Volume 1 is probably my least favorite. But its final quartet of tunes is really nothing short of fantastic, and I just wish that the album could've been made with that same consistency all throughout, like a lot of other releases in this essential series seem to be.

Definitely not done with checking out oldies altogether, but I think I'll be putting this specific, history-making series to bed for the time being. I plan on revisiting it again someday, but that day is an indeterminately long way's away.

Highlights:

Chuck Berry - "Maybellene" The Cadets - "Stranded in the Jungle" Lloyd Price - "Stagger Lee" Etta James - "Dance With Me Henry"

[queenofhearts7378]

I posted 6,785 times in 2021

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#trying to hit a balance between ishiyama being a proper principal and her not wanting to deal with danny’s parents anymore than necessary

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Goth

(I once wrote a oneshot about Sam and Adrien being Pen Pal friends and I was today years old when I realized I would die on that hill. Also I've been wanting to write a Rebellious AdrienTM for a while now soooo....)

"No."

Adrien felt like his heart was trying to beat out of his chest. His father's face was stonier than ever as he raised his head to glare at Adrien.

But Adrien wasn't backing down on this. Plagg's claws were kneading his chest in comfort and there was a rage burning in his bones he hadn't felt outside of his suit.

Gabriel set down his pen. "You do not have a choice Adrien."

"It's my life!" Adrien hissed. "I've done everything you've asked-no, demanded I do. I fence, I model, I take Chinese lessons and piano lessons-"

"And everything has been slipping ever since I allowed you to go to public school." Gabriel interrupted, "You are constantly skipping your lessons. I've entertained this little teenage rebellion long enough-"

"Rebellion." Adrien’s voice went as flat and cold as his father's. He could practically feel his hair bristling in response to his anger. "You think this is a rebellion."

Gabriel opened his mouth, but Adrien cut him off. "No! I'm done. You really think I'm rebellious? You have not seen anything yet."

He turned around and stomped to the door, throwing it open with force.

"ADRIEN!" Gabriel thundered.

Adrien threw him a dark look over his shoulder, "I quit. Find someone else to be your golden goose."

He ignored his shaky hands and his father's voice as he slammed the doors behind him.

….

Chat Noir jumped across the rooftops of Amity Park, looking for a house he had only been to once before. Danny wasn't at his house, and Mrs. Fenton had gladly pointed him towards Sam's after giving him a sandwich and some cookies and a hug.

Chat eventually found the right address. He dropped down and peeked in a few windows till he saw the one with the Amity Trio in it. He knocked on the glass to get their attention.

The three of them snapped their heads to look at him, Sam eventually walking over to let him in.

"Chat Noir? Are you okay? Que faites-vous ici ?" She asked.

Chat shook his head as he slipped in. He dropped the transformation as Sam closed the windows and couldn't stop himself from freaking out. Plagg shook his head and flew up to nuzzle his holder.

Adrien let out a high pitched whine and sunk to the floor, gripping his hair in his hands. "Pourquoi ai-je fait ça? Mon dieu j'ai tellement de problèmes!"

Danny, Sam, and Tucker exchanged alarmed looks.

"Adrien?" Danny slid down in front of him, gently pulling his hands away from his hair. "What happened kit?"

Adrien let out a hysterical giggle, "Je told mon pére to shove eet."

Tucker let out a whistle. "Woah dude. That why you're freaking out?"

Sam kicked him in the shin for the lack of tact, and Adrien let put another hysterical giggle. Danny pulled him into a hug.

….

Adrien finally calmed down after a while and managed to explain what happened, leaving him an exhausted puddle on Sam's bed. Sam was petting his hair while explaining the overcomplicated plot of some American monster movie crossover series. Danny had left for the third time to fight a ghost, with Tucker following after receiving an annoying phone call about Technus.

"You know about teenage rebellions right?" Adrien interrupted her.

Sam looked at him, "I'm a goth to rich, preppy parents. Everything I do is teenage rebellion to them."

"I do not know how to rebel." Adrien whispered, eyes wide. "Where-where do I even start?"

Sam hummed in thought. Then she reached over to her bedside table and brought out a sketchbook, a few bottles of nail polish, and a little black zip up bag.

"How about a makeover?"

"I do not pull off 'goth' like you and Juleka."

Sam rolled her eyes as she shoved him up to a sitting position, "First of all: that's a lie, I've seen you pull off eyeliner sharp enough to cut. It would make any goth jealous. Second of all: I'm not talking about giving you a new thing like me."

She pulled out her bottle of black nail polish and grabbed his hand. Adrien didn't protest, as he had never had his nails painted with anything other than a clear coat.

"You already know your thing, Agreste. You just never got the chance to show it. Everything you did was an Agreste brand. Your clothing, your actions, your social media. Your freedom of expression and voice was smothered by expectations from your father-" The plastic top of the brush cracked under her fingers, and the two of them stared at it for a minute.

Sam sighed and finished painting his nails before speaking back up. "You just have to wear stuff you like. Do things for you, not anyone else."

Adrien blew gently on his nails, admiring the way they shined in the light and cooled on his fingers. "What if I don't know what I like?"

Sam scoffed, "Then we go shopping. We both have money to spare. Besides I've seen you eyeballing my black ripped skinny jeans, and you love all the pun shirts Danny wears."

She eyeballed his waist. "I don't think you'd fit into my jeans, but Tucker left his pair here when he was trying to reinvent himself. And I know Danny leaves his shirts here all the time so-"

Adrien suddenly hugged her, being careful not to smudge the fresh nail polish.

"Adrien you are crushing my gothic indifference." Sam mumbled into his shoulder.

Adrien giggled, "You're an amazing friend Sam."

"Uggghhh let go of me you sap." She complained, but didn't make any move to break away.

171 notes • Posted 2021-03-30 01:00:15 GMT

#4

Constellations Ch. 3

Prev. Chapter - First

[2500 words guys. 2500 words of just getting him to school. Also the only one about to be more miserable than Draco....is Wes. I wonder what new rumors and conspiracy theories will spring up from this new information :^) ]

"Man, when was the last time we walked to school together?” Tucker asked as he came jogging across his lawn. Danny gave him a grin.

Draco shot him a look, "You don't usually walk to school?"

"Did you want to take the school bus?"

Draco winced, recalling the one and only time he had ridden the Night Bus. If muggle buses were even half as bad as that….well, he could appreciate Danny forcing him to walk instead.

“Wait!” Tucker skidded to a stop, “Is that your long lost wizard twin?"

Said long lost wizard twin made a distressed noise as he grabbed Danny's shoulder, "You told him about magic?!" He hissed.

"Uh, yeah?" He said, looking completely unconcerned about breaking one of the most important wizarding laws ever. “I tell my friends everything - stop making that face at me!"

Draco didn't let up his sneer, "Did it ever occur to you what would happen if my parents found out?!"

"That's why I never mentioned it."

Draco made another distressed noise, "You are the reason my hair is going white. Mother and Father are never to find out about this."

"Well duh?"

Tucker kept a few steps back, eyes narrowed dangerously. "You aren't about to explode my tech are you? I heard what Danny went through."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Are all muggles this concerned about their 'techology'? What use does it even provide?"

"Oh no." Danny muttered.

Tucker gaped at Draco, "What use-"

He was suddenly in Draco's personal bubble, and Draco had to swallow down the urge to shove his wand in his throat. As it was, he couldn't stop the hiss coming from between his teeth.

“I will show you the true wonders of technology you poor depraved soul.” Tucker whispered.

“Danny make him stop.”

His absolute traitor of a twin brother just laughed at them and raced ahead. Tucker gave him a maniacal grin and pulled no less than four different electronics. “I will teach you everything I know!”

“Danny!” Draco screeched as he raced after him. “Don’t leave me with him!”

"I will have you using a cell phone by the end of the week! You can't hide from me!"

The three of them raced down the street till they came to Sam's house, who gave them an unimpressed look when they stumbled to stop.

"This is what it takes to get you to go jogging?"

Danny gave her a big grin while Tucker wheezed next to him. Draco took a moment to catch his breath and examine Danny’s other friend.

Sam just looked over him, an unimpressed look on her face, before asking Danny “You’re actually going to take him to school?”

“Uh yeah?”

Sam grinned darkly, "You are about to throw a rich snob into a small town public school for the first time in his life. There is no way in hell I am going to miss this."

Danny looked like he was having second thoughts and Draco elbowed him. He was already out in public in muggle clothing and his hair a disaster, no reason to turn back now.

"Your name means almost nothing here." Sam stated. "The Fentons are the town joke, and Danny resides at the bottom of the teen social ladder. The kind of special treatment you're used to in magic land, you won't get here."

Draco grit his teeth, "I am already aware of that, thank you."

She looked at him for a few moments, "Not yet you aren't."

She linked arms with Tucker and pulled him towards the school, effectively ending the debate Draco was about to start with her. Danny sighed, "Yeah, yeah I should have expected this. C'mon, I gotta talk to Lancer and Ishiyama about you shadowing me for the rest of the week."

“What exactly am I supposed to do at a muggle school?” Draco asked.

Danny just shrugged, “Same as us I guess. A lot of nothing. Though I guess it’s one way to learn about non magical people in a safe environment.”

“You threatened to throw me in a dumpster.”

“I told you someone else would throw you in the dumpster. It’s not so bad actually.”

Draco made a disgusted noise.

"Oh look, we're at school!" Danny scrunched his nose, "Ugh, never thought I'd sound so thrilled about that. Anyways, we need to stop at the principal's office and see if it's okay for you to shadow me for the rest of the year. It's only like, for two weeks and we're not doing any actual work so it should be fine. But we still have to get permission."

As Danny talked, he dragged Draco towards a brick building that seemed to have various holes in the wall. Draco wrinkled his nose, expecting something run down and mediocre as it was a muggle public school. But the holes did not endear him to the structural integrity of the building.

There were a bunch of students already loitering outside the school, and heads and whispers followed the pair as Danny pulled him up the stairs and through the doors.

Draco was rather used to the attention that came from being a Malfoy, both good and bad. But this attention seemed so much more….unsettling in the wake of his brother. Maybe it was the cruel smirk on a girl's face as she leaned to whisper in the ear of her blonde friend. Or the way a couple of broad shouldered boys elbowed each other and snickered.

They wouldn't be doing this if they knew he was a Malfoy.

'But you're not a Malfoy right now, are you?' Said an annoying voice in his head that sounded vaguely like Manson.

He told the annoying voice to stuff it.

"Hi Principal Ishiyama!" Danny grinned as he poked his head in the door.

The principal sighed wearily, already reaching for a pen, "Detention again Mr. Fenton? School hasn't even started for today, this might be a record."

Draco shot him a look and Danny flushed, "Uh, no. Not this time. I actually had a question."

She raised an eyebrow, "A nice change of pace. Very well, what's on your mind?"

Danny walked into the office with Draco following him. Looking around, Draco noticed that the office had none of Dumbledore's odd extravagance of his own office. There were filing cabinets and bookshelves filled with binders and books. She had a few muggle objects on her desk along with sentimental photos. There were two comfortable looking chairs in front of her desk and a plant in the windowsill. It was all very...normal.

He was expecting something more rundown and poor. Especially considering how the outside looked.

"Who is this?"

"This is my twin brother, Draco."

Principal Ishiyama blanched, "There are more of you?"

"I cannot believe I am going to get kicked out and I haven't even been allowed in yet." Draco muttered.

Danny stepped on his foot. "From my bio family. We recently found each other last summer and we've been getting to know each other. I was wondering if it would be okay for him to shadow me for the rest of the year? He kinda came earlier than we were expecting and he usually goes to boarding school in Scotland and I didn't want to leave him at home all day cause….you know."

Principal Ishiyama winced, "Yes I'm well aware. I suppose it would be fine. Your parents know where he is?"

"I called them before leaving. You can double check-"

"No no no, that's fine!" Principal Ishiyama interrupted. "I just need him to sign some safety waivers, and make sure you show him all the proper protocols. Does he have health insurance?"

"What is 'insurance'?"

"Yes!" Danny said loudly, stepping on Draco’s foot again. "Don't worry about being sued, we're taking care of him."

Draco shot him an incredulous look as the principal pulled some papers out of her folder and handed them over.

"Normally I'd have the parents sign it in person, but I suppose you can bring it back tomorrow. No need to call them in right now, I heard they're working."

Danny grinned, "Yeah, somewhere by the docks. But I mean it wouldn't take long for them to get here with Dad driving-"

"We don't need more property damage at the moment, Mr. Fenton. Just get the papers back to me in the morning." She waved them out of the office. "And do try to keep up this streak of arriving on time."

"I'll do my best Principal Ishiyama." Danny said as he dragged Draco back out of the office.

"I have questions." Draco stated.

"I might have answers."

"What is insurance? And why would I need it for my health? And safety protocols?"

Danny stared at him. "Dude, I told you about the ghosts. I spent all year writing to you about different attacks. You should be aware of the ghosts by now."

"I didn't think you were serious about that. Ghosts aren't dangerous."

"Oh Ancients my brother is a dingus." Danny groaned into his hands. "Look, you won't believe me until you see for yourself-"

"But ghosts-"

"SO! Just….whenever the ghost alarm goes off do whatever everyone else is doing. Actually, never mind, I'll have Sam watch you."

"I don't need to be watched-"

"Are you being purposefully antagonistic right now?"

"Ooooh, Danny’s using big words now." Sam drawled, "Everything all set up?"

Tucker threw his arm over Draco’s shoulders, ignoring the way he was trying to squirm away, "Okay so this is a cell phone."

Danny held up the papers, "Just got to sign some waivers. We're gonna be twin peas in a pod for the rest of school."

"Oh joy. Now there's two Fentons for Dash to bully."

"I feel bad for anyone who tries to bully Drake."

Draco glared at Tucker. "Remove your arm before I remove it for you."

Tucker hastily pulled his arm back, "And this is a PDA, her name is Marie the 3rd. And this-"

Sam smirked, "I'll be sure to record all future interactions. Come on, we gotta get to homeroom."

Draco walked next to Danny, looking thoroughly annoyed with Tucker's impromptu technology lesson.

Mr. Lancer raised an eyebrow when he saw the tag-a-long to Danny’s usual trio. "Mr. Fenton?"

"This is my brother Draco, he's shadowing me for the rest of school."

"The Crucible!" He exclaimed, dropping his pen, "There's more of you?"

Sam cackled next to him.

Draco sighed wearily. "Are all your professors going to have the same reaction? I'm beginning to regret this."

"Ah, my apologies Mr. Fenton, and….Mr. Fenton."

"It's Malfoy, actually. I'm not a Fenton."

"Mom and Dad say otherwise."

Mr. Lancer looked distressed, "Please take your seats, both of you."

Danny grinned and pulled Draco, who was getting rather annoyed with being dragged everywhere, to some desks in the back of the room.

Draco made a face as he sat down, not enjoying the cheap plastic….everything the classroom seemed to be made of. He was used to the sturdy, solid wood desks from Hogwarts. Or the ornate, carefully crafted desks from home with protective runes etched in decorative patterns to keep the desk from breaking.

Draco's face twisted in a grimace, "Are these desks….sweating?" The entire thing squeaked as he shifted to put his hands in his lap.

Sam snorted, "Pretty much. Hot and humid weather, mixed with cheap (recycled mind you)* wood and sketchy air conditioners equals sweating desks. You get used to it."

"Merlin, help me."

While Draco sat there pitying himself and the idea of sitting at sweating desks for the next two weeks, the rest of the class slowly trickled in, causing the noise level to rise as everyone around started whispering about the new kid sitting with Fenton.

Paulina discreetly checked out the new kid sitting behind her in her compact mirror. "This is a horrible time for a new student to join school. I don't have any time to win him over with my amazing personality and leave him trailing after me in the vain hope of catching my attention."

She reapplied her lip gloss before snapping the mirror shut.

Star hummed in agreement, "Yeah, but do you really want him to? I mean he's cute but he looks pretty friendly with Freaky Fenton."

"Yeah, but Manson looks like she's taking pleasure in his suffering in lieu of knocking his lights out. Anyone that could get under her skin is good in my books."

"Doesn't she usually look like that though?"

Kwan leaned across the aisle, "Hey, does anyone else think new guy and Fenton look kinda alike?"

"Kwan what fuck." Dash scoffed, "They look nothing alike! Fentonoski looks as geeky as normal and new guy looks like a prep school reject."

The tardy bell rang. Which, didn't really matter to the students as they were all in there and didn't affect the noise level at all. Mr. Lancer standing up to call roll did shut them up for the moment though. Partly because he tended to give extra homework to students messing around during class, but mostly because they wanted to know who the new guy was sitting and chatting next to Danny Fenton of all people.

"Daniel?"

"Here."

"Draco?"

"Present."

Whispers started back up again, and Mr. Lancer sighed, but continued on. They weren't hindering roll call and sometimes it was just easier to let them get it out of their systems before class actually started.

"Weston?"

"Here." Wes growled, eyes on the new kid sitting next to Fenton.

"Please face the front instead of staring at your classmates two rows behind you Mr. Weston."

Snickers erupted around the classroom and Danny winked at a flushed Wes, who saw it just before he turned, leaving Wes fuming in his seat. He didn't know who the new guy was sitting next to Fenton, but it was clearly Fenton once again trying to make his life miserable. He just had to figure out how.

Mr. Lancer sighed. "As you may have noticed, we have a new face here with us. Mr. Draco Malfoy will be shadowing Mr. Fenton for the remainder of the school year."

"Okay, but why?" Mikey asked.

"Draco is Danny’s long lost twin brother from England he met last summer." Sam drawled.

There was a snapping noise and heads whipped around to see Wes clutching a broken pen and looking like he was about to cry in frustration. "There is another one of you?" He said in horror. Blue ink dripped from the broken pen in his hand.

Mr. Lancer pinched the bridge of his nose, "Mr. Weston please go to the bathroom and clean yourself up."

Wes stiffly got out of his desk and ghosted (heh) out of the classroom, still clutching the broken pen in a death grip.

Draco closed his eyes, already completely done with muggle school. "If that continues to be the reaction to me being your brother, I think I will take my chances with your parents."

Star turned in her seat to give him a pitying look, "Oh you really haven't been in Amity that long, have you?"

….

*(Virco school desk chairs, which I had through most of school, do in fact seem to sweat when the weather gets all wonky. And they are made from recycled, fortified wood. Look up a picture and tell me if you had these same desks, I wanna see who else experienced sweating desks in public school :P. Tag list below the cut.)

Also Draco is wearing a white button up and black slacks because he is still a snob and refuses to wear casual cloths.

Tag list, as requested in the notes: @ladylynse (okay you didn't ask to get tagged but this all started because of you and your anons so....)

@burningprincesssuit @raisa3ibex @random-shit-writing @home-of-renn @who-needs-braincells @connisk

182 notes • Posted 2021-08-12 06:21:12 GMT

#3

Jump

(If the ending seems rushed it's because it is, I was tired of looking at it. This has been on my drafts for a while.)

@messedupmoon

It took Danny about half an hour before he could admit it to himself: he was totally lost.

"I thought you said you knew where he was!" He hissed quietly at the kwami in his hair.

"I do," Huginn said, "He's somewhere in Paris."

"You are the worst kwami ever. Paris is huge!"

"I could have said he was somewhere in France."

Danny made a frustrated sound as he pulled out a paper map, not trusting Google to give him the proper directions. As he did so he failed to notice the other person running towards him.

"So I think if we just-oof!"

He collided into someone else and they both went sprawling on the cobblestone. Danny's hand flew up to his hair, making sure Huginn was there and wasn't sent flying where people could see him.

(They weren't careful enough in Amity one day and his parents are more convinced than ever that Phantom is a ghost. He really didn't want to send Paris into a panic of something similar.)

The other teen groaned as he lay on the cobblestone, a look of resignation on his face.

Danny scrambled to his feet and went to help him up, "I am so sorry! Lo siento-nope, that's Spanish. Wait what's french for sorry?"

"Désolé."

Danny blinked, and focused on the guy that grabbed his outstretched hand. He grinned as Danny pulled him to his feet.

"Je suis désolé is what you are looking for. But you could always just say it in English."

Danny flushed, "Yeah, sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going."

He waved him off, "I am sorry as well. I was not looking either. My name is Adrien."

"Danny." Danny looked at the crumpled and slightly torn map, "Uh, would you be willing to help me with directions?"

"Oui. One of the tourist attractions? A hotel?"

"No, not a tourist." Adrien shot him a questioning look. "No really! I'm looking for this guy. I have this….problem I'm hoping he could help me with."

"Where does he live?"

"I don't know."

Adrien raised an eyebrow.

Danny huffed. "All I know is his name is Wang Fu and he owns, like, a tea shop or something in Paris. My source was rather useless when it came to directions." He winced as Huginn pulled at his hair in retaliation.

Danny saw that Adrien was giving him a funny look. "I know I'm making like no sense but I already tried Google and all it did was take me to the Eiffel Tower and I don't have the name of his shop cause my source hasn't been to Paris in forever-"

Danny groaned into his hands.

Adrien was silent for a moment, and then he said, "I think I know who you are talking about."

Danny peeked through his fingers to see Adrien making a thoughtful face. Adrien grinned at him. “You are lucky. Master Fu is my Chinese tutor. I would be happy to show you his shop.”

Danny stared at him, hands dropping from his face. “You’re serious? Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“Oui,” Adrien shrugged, “My Chinese lessons."

Danny let out a surprised laugh, “Talk about good luck!”

Adrien snorted, “Good luck tends to avoid me these days.”

“Oh you got a case of Murphy’s Law too?”

“Sans aucun doute,” he replied wearily.

Danny had no idea what Adrien just said, but he could relate.

It was only a ten minute walk to Fu’s shop, in which Adrien and Danny had spent making small talk. It was pretty cool to chat with a local who was happy to tell him all about the hidden spots in Paris.

Danny really wasn’t here for sightseeing, and he had to go home in a couple days, but it was still cool.

“-and if you are ever caught in an akuma attack, I find alleys are a good way to stay clear of the damage.”

Danny blinked, “Akumas?”

Adrien gave him a curious look, “Yes, Hawkmoth’s akumas. You should have been informed of that when you came into the city. They give out booklets.”

“....I’m not very good at listening.” Danny could feel Huginn laughing silently in his hair. “That sounds like a supervillain.”

“It is a supervillain who takes someone experiencing negative emotions and turns them into a rampaging monster with a butterfly called an akuma so he can steal the miraculous of Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

Danny blinked incredulously. At least Huginn was right in the fact that Paris would have the answers they were looking for. If Wang Fu didn’t have anything to offer, maybe he could find Paris’s resident heroes for some answers. Looking around, he didn’t notice any damage similar to his own fights.

“And here we are!” Adrien gestured to the almost hidden massage parlor.

The two of them walked into the shop, the bell above the door announcing their arrival. “Un moment!”

Danny shivered with his kwami as the two of them felt the magic in the air wrap around them.

“Bon après-midi, Sensei!” Adrien called back, “J'ai amené un ami.”

“Un ami?”

Wang Fu himself was very short in person, and gave Danny a very confused look as he walked into the backroom beside Adrien.

“Um, hello sir.” Danny waved awkwardly, mentally trying to figure out how to get Adrien away long enough to talk about his miraculous problem.

Huginn solved that problem by jumping right to it, almost literally. Adrien gave a squawk of surprise as the small black kwami flew out of Danny’s hair and up to Fu. “You are the last guardian correct?”

“Huginn!” Danny hissed.

“We need your help.” Huginn continued regardless of Danny stressing out behind him. “Something went wrong with the miraculous.”

“Umm….” Adrien was looking between Danny and Huginn with wide eyes.

Fu looked curious and somewhat baffled himself. “A crow miraculous? I had thought the Miraculous of Passageways and Death was nothing but a myth.”

Danny threw up his hands. “Oh sure! Let’s just forgo any sense of secret identities, it’s not like my enemies are trying to kill me or anything.”

“You are a Miraculous holder?” Adrien asked, looking like he got hit over the head.

“More or less,” Danny muttered. He sighed heavily before lifting his bangs.

Wang Fu muttered something that had Adrien flushing as he reached up to look at the scars on Danny’s forehead. “My miraculous fused to my head.”

“And I thought my kid had bad luck!” Another black kwami flew up to poke at him.

“Plagg!”

“I see we’re outing all the identities today.” Huginn said, “Is Hawkmoth next?”

Danny smiled at Adrien, “Hey! Same hat!”

182 notes • Posted 2021-03-23 00:00:14 GMT

#2

Constellations Ch. 2

(Yes it finally has a title. Yes this is ending up multi chaptered. Yes there’s another part I’m writing. Yes I already have an outline for a vague plot....Yes I’m still blaming @ladylynse for this XD)

Prev. Chapter  -  Next Chapter

Danny was very much unprepared and underdressed for the time when some wizards fell out of his fireplace.

He paused in the doorway, spoon still in his mouth and cheeks full of cereal, as his brother stood up and brushed the soot off him with a displeased nose scrunch.

Danny swallowed. "And you couldn't just use the door?"

Honestly they're lucky his parents had left to chase down the Box Ghost earlier. Otherwise they'd be covered in a lot more than soot and ash.

Danny couldn't help the snort that escaped at the mental picture of Draco covered in ectoplasm and boiling in rage. 

Draco narrowed his eyes, seeming to pick up that Danny was making fun of him. "Using the Floo was quicker."

"....quicker than walking through the door."

"It's a wizard thing you wouldn't understand." Draco snapped back, his go to response whenever he couldn't argue against Danny's logic at the moment. 

"Uh huh. Anyways what are you doing here?" Danny asked, "You aren't supposed to be here for another two weeks."

Which was time previously planned for Draco to prepare for his summer in America while Danny finished school. Spend the two weeks after Hogwarts let out recuperating and making public appearances with his parents, then spend the rest of the summer with the Fentons.

Actually now that Danny was looking, it seemed Draco had come straight from school. His hair was lacking half its gel, he was still wearing his green tie, and his robes were a very boring black as opposed to the various greys and blues he flaunted around in the previous summer.

“Denebola, pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.” Drawled the man standing behind Draco.

“Hello creepy man that I have never met before,” Danny said, echoing his tone.

Draco choked on air as the discount Kylo Ren sneered at him.

“This is Professor Snape Danny.” A familiar please-don’t-say-anything-that-will-get-us-in-trouble tone coloring Draco’s words. “My godfather.”

Oh the potion guy. Danny remembers Draco talking about him now. He was friends with Draco’s parents, which didn’t really impress Danny that much as all of the Malfoy’s friends seemed to be really rich snobs or really racist. Mostly both.

But he was Draco’s godfather, the reason he got into potions, his favorite professor and someone Draco would willingly go to get advice from. So, Danny decided to reserve judgement till he met him. Well….he met him.

Danny looked Draco dead in the eyes, “My apologies.”

Draco closed his eyes in mortification, which made Danny grin internally. They were really getting the hang of the whole ‘speaking without talking to each other twin thing’. 

Professor Snape just scowled at him. “Where are the….muggles?" Disdain dripped off his words, instantly making Danny defensive. He had heard enough at Malfoy Manor about disgraceful, savage muggles from Lucius. Even Draco had echoed his father till Danny dragged him kicking and screaming into being a slightly decent person.

"My parents," Danny said, stressing the word, "Are working right now."

Okay maybe they were just being their usual trigger happy selves and running after Boxy, but there was no way he was telling Professor Snape that without it leading to an hour long discussion about ghosts. And Danny did not have time for that. He shoved a giant spoonful of cereal in his mouth as he met Professor Snape's eyes and-huh.

Draco never told Danny his godfather could read minds. He could feel the light brushes of a foreign mind attempting to gleam information from his surface thoughts. Danny didn't know if it was his wizard ancestry or halfa weirdness that made him sensitive to this kind of stuff. Either way, it was useful in keeping his secrets in his head from privacy invading school teachers.

Danny glowered at Snape and immediately thought of Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up music video.

The two of them stared at each other for a minute, making Draco more and more anxious as no one said anything.

Finally Snape broke contact, "Where should his things go?"

Danny tried very hard not to smirk after winning that staring contest, "You can just leave them here, we'll get them later."

With one last displeased sneer, Snape turned to Draco. "I'm needed back at Hogwarts. I trust you are in good hands."

Draco nodded, still looking tense and anxious as hell.

Snape walked back to the fireplace. He paused next to Draco, "Take care of yourself Draco."

Draco softened under his glare, "I will Professor. Thank you."

Snape nodded and shot one more glare at Danny, who still had Rick Astley echoing in his head, before vanishing into the fireplace in a swirl of green fire.

Draco turned back to Danny and said, "You stress me out."

Danny snorted before walking back into the kitchen to put his bowl in the sink. Draco followed after him, looking at all the kitchen appliances with a barely hidden curious look.

"Something else we have in common."

"What are you wearing?" He asked with a nose scrunched in displeasure.

Danny shot him a look, "My pajamas, cause I just woke up. I haven't finished getting ready for school. You should probably change too."

"Why?"

Danny started for the stairs, Draco still following at his heels. "You can't wear robes to public school. I think you can fit in my jeans."

"What?!" Draco screeched, halting at the bottom of the stairs, "I'm not going to muggle school with you!"

"It's either that or stay here by yourself for hours." Danny said as he paused outside his room. Draco scrambled up after him. "Cause my parents won't be home for a couple more hours, after which you'll be alone with them till I get home."

Danny smirked at him, "My parents are going to be thrilled to see you, can you really handle their enthusiasm all by yourself?"

Draco could barely stand Danny showing various forms of physical affection, as proven last summer when Danny would throw an arm around Draco's shoulders and almost get hexed. And Ancients forbid Danny try to hug him. Draco might actually lose the wand and just punch him. Danny had spent most of their correspondence over the school year prepping Draco for the Fenton welcome wagon so he wouldn't hiss like a cat when he gets hugged. Okay, and maybe Danny just wanted to see his overdramatic brother's face as he is subjected to his parent's bear hugs. 

Draco scowled at him, "Fine. But I'm not wearing any jeans."

Draco stomped into Danny's room and slammed the door in his face. He heard the lock click as it was shut.

"Hey! I still gotta get dressed!" Danny banged on the door, "C'mon Drake it's still my room!"

Danny groaned before walking over to the bathroom. He phased through the wall and landed on the fire escape. It took a few minutes, but he eventually maneuvered to his window and slipped in.

Draco had dug into Danny's closet and pulled out the most dressy tux Danny owned and was in the middle of putting it on. 

"You are not wearing that."

Draco scowled at him, "It’s bad enough I'm lowering myself by going with you-”

“Lowering yourself?”

“-But,” he said loudly, “I absolutely refuse to wear common muggle wear. If I’m going to this school, I will not look anything less than my absolute best.”

Danny stared at him. “Drake you will be thrown into the dumpster if you wear that to my school. Let me just-”

Danny jumped on him, trying to remove the suit jacket from a struggling Draco. Draco shouted and tried to twist away, only for Danny to pull it over his head. Once Draco was out of sight, and swearing loudly at him, Danny subtly used his intangibility to yank it off him. And if he happened to remove all of Draco’s hair gel that he used to keep his hair slicked back….well, that would have gotten him thrown in a dumpster as well.

Danny tried not to laugh as Draco glared at him, his hair fluffed up and looking vaguely like an angry kitten. 

"Do you know how long it takes me to fix my hair? I have to completely redo it now! And how'd you get that off me?" He pointed at the jacket Danny was throwing back in his closet.

Danny grinned at him, "Magic."

Draco gave him a flat look.

"Anyway we've got to go, otherwise I'm gonna be late again, and get detention again, and you'll be forced to either walk home by yourself or stay at school with me."

Somehow Danny had managed to get dressed and drag Draco out the door with him, texting Sam and Tucker his plans to walk so they could meet up on the way.

"What is that?" Draco leaned over to squint at the phone in Danny's hand.

"My phone. I told you about it last summer."

Draco hummed, "I thought it was broken?"

"Yeah, cause your magic blew it up. My parents fixed it." Danny shoved his phone back in his pocket like Draco was about to blow it up again. "Now what happened?"

Draco shot him a glance, before letting his eyes flicker around them. "I did try to tell you muggle 'technology' and magic doesn't always go together."

"Drake, you know that's not what I mean." He said softly.

Draco was silent, his jaw clenched and his hands shaking before he shoved them in his pockets.

They walked in silence for a while.

"You'll get hurt."

Danny looked at him.

"I…." Draco sighed, "I've never…."

Danny waited silently for him to get the words out on his own, knowing that pushing him will only make him clam up.

"You aren't like us. And I don't mean that in any bad way!" He said quickly when he saw Danny's face. "But you know what my parents are like, and their friends are so much worse, and you're the first person I've ever had to worry about. I just want you to be safe."

Oh Ancients, that was a lot to unpack there. 

Danny had known something had happened during school. The two of them spent the school year exchanging letters, both of them wanting to stay in contact. Danny would tell him about his school, and his parents' antics, and explain random muggle technology to get Draco prepared for his summer with the Fentons.

Meanwhile, Draco had complained at length about Potter and a tournament and Potter being insufferable about a tournament. There was a furious letter about being turned into a ferret and how Potter and his friends keep bringing it up. Draco sent him about three feet of parchment around Christmas just making fun of Potter at a dance and how horrible he was. There was a lot about some famous Quidditch guy and then a lot about Potter’s friend stealing the famous Quidditch guy.

Draco complained about Potter a lot, okay?

But Draco never sent him a letter about the tournament results or if Potter got eaten by a bog witch or whatever it was he was hoping for the last task. He just showed up, two weeks early and clearly shaken about whatever it was that happened.

That isn’t a good sign at all. And Danny had eavesdropped enough last summer to get a decent idea as to what was going on.

“This is….this is about him isn’t it?”

Draco flinched, which was enough answer for him. Danny let out a breath.

“We can-we can talk about this later. I care about you too Drake, and I know your family is neck deep in this mess.” Danny bumped his shoulder, “You’re safe here, that’s why Narcissa sent you here right?”

Draco leaned against his brother’s shoulder, eyes still flitting across the street and his jaw clenched. “Yeah. We’re safe here.”

219 notes • Posted 2021-01-11 03:37:13 GMT

#1

So....my dad....got some stickers. A couple thousand, bright orange stickers that say "For rectal use only" and he is going around putting them on random things. Those things so far include:

The soap dispenser at a gas station

A jar of mayonnaise

A banana

The card slot at a sonic drive through

An electric hair trimmer on display

And at the moment he is currently loose in Walmart so I'm sure that list will only go up

641 notes • Posted 2021-09-20 23:09:40 GMT

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[daveslutstaine]

This is a free coupon/excuse for you to infodump on the current topic you're obsessed with. Take some time away from internet discourse and share with us something you find interesting! ✨

YEEE AAAAAAAAH BABY okay so there's this composer that I've been really getting into lately and no it's not Vivaldi. Though I love my little funky Italian man that will always hold a special place in my heart, this one is a different guy whose pieces trigger something in me that I cannot explain. His name is Dmitri Shostackovich and I've been obsessing over two pieces of his in particular and those are Waltz No. 2 which was written for the Soviet Union's Jazz Orchestra and AAAA let me tell you it is a beautiful piece! It feels familiar, yet it feels so new. I guess that's because it reminds me of Tchaikovsky in a way, and I grew up with Tchaikovsky so that's probably why. It also reminds me of a song on the game Skull Girls, so that's probably another reason why it seems so familiar to me. I can't get over how pretty it is! It's so somber and joyful at the same time!

Oh and another piece of his that I've been obsessively listening to for quite some time is String Quartet No. 15! I've mentioned this is posts before but I've genuinely contemplated making it my blogs' music on the mp3 player I have on it. You know that one song that you find and you go "YES! This is it! Finally a song that resonates with That One Emotion I keep feeling but can never find anything that matches it!" Well that's what that song is to me. Fun little fact about this song, after it was rehearsed by a quartet that Shostackovich had presented it to, one of the cellists died unexpectedly the next day. Well that's not a very "fun" fact so to speak of, but I found it interesting nonetheless.

Another work of his I really like is String Quartet No 8. which is probably the most recognizable of his work, or at least it was for me. I don't remember where or when I heard it, but I remember shooting up in bed while listening to it one night and going "Oh so it's THAT song". Again I don't recall when or where I heard it, but man that was a strong memory it triggered. Anyway it's a lovely song, and the borodin quartet did such a wonderful job playing it! I once read that when Shostackovich heard them play his composition, he cried afterwards. Apparently this was a really personal piece for him. I heard he dedicated it to the victims of the WW2, or as he put it, "to the victims of fascism", though I have read that one of his friends said that it was a eulogy of sorts for him, and that he was planning to take his life afterwards, though I cannot confirm or deny that.

Anyway I really really like this composer! I wish I could get into his head and see how he thinks and how he came up with these and just poke around in his head a little. I've seen images of him with his pet pigs and that's just cute to me! I don't like him like that or anything, I think he's a fascinating guy ya know? I could go on and on about him and his works but this response is already long and incoherent enough. Maybe in the future I'll make much more coherent posts about him and his works, but for right now, I think I'll leave this as is. Thank you so much for this btw ❤❤❤❤

[duanecbrooks]

A Couple A' White Chicks     Remember when--and I've done it more than once--I touched on the fact that one of my all-time favorite category of YouTube items are the ones that involve those pair of Access Hollywood Live chicks Natalie Morales and Kit Hoover? Well, in my continuous satisfaction of my YouTube fix, I've come to tune in to those gals more and more and, upon getting a certain definite helping of them, I can say unabashedly that Nat and Kit--as they're famously and affectionately known--have come to be my second-favorite pair of non-narrative-television girls, my favorite pair being, of course, the Today show's Kathie Lee and Hoda (with my admiration, indeed, my love not decreasing a bit whenever Jenna Bush Hager fills in for either one of them).             Before going into what exactly has caused me to give my heart to said AHL she-babes, let me give you my history concerning viewing them during their individual careers.             First, Natalie. I first discovered her, of course, when you did--first on the regular Today show, then, as time passed, on the aforementioned program's Third Hour. I right away fell in love with her billowing, lustrous brown hair; her exquisitely-shaped, sparkling eyes; her rich, well-proportioned jawline; and her excellently-sculptured bare feet. Indeed, Natalie was the Today regular who was barefoot the most often (bespeaking an entirely admirable trait that I'll elaborate upon as we continue). Also: There was (as there still is) her unstoppable vivaciousness. This girl, frankly, was (and remains) a helluva lot of fun. Although she, bless her, had the maturity and the gravitas to handle Today's serious-news readings, she could easily switch gears and be wholly convincing--and wholly appealing--bantering with her Today colleagues and doing the Today fun stuff (Only her Today sisters Tamron and Sheinelle have this ability). Finally, there was (and still is) the factor of Natalie's relentless good-sportmanship. This gal was (is) in no sense a prig, being always ready, willing, and able to, to quote the famous words from the legendary 1980s theatrical dance flick Footloose, "cut loose...kick off [her] Sunday shoes," and let her hair down and have fun. Indeed, said line regarding "kick[ing] off [her]Sunday shoes" especially applied (applies) to Natalie, as, as was mentioned earlier, she went barefoot more often than any other member of the Today family (The latest example of her aforementioned good-sportsmanship came when, during a week when she was the drop-by Today anchor and there was a segment on closed suitcases, and what were inside, she was genuinely scared shitless when, upon one of said suitcases being opened, out crawled a facsimile of the girl from the picture Rings [After calming down, Natalie told the girl: "I'm sure you're a lovely person." Later, laughingly recalling said moment during the Today Third Hour, Al Roker chuckled: "I loved it when [the Rings girl climbed out of the suitcase] Natalie hid behind Hoda. It was like: 'Leave me alone! Take my colleague from the [Today] 10:00 hour!'"]).                 Now to Kit Hoover. I first became aware of her when she co-hosted this (alas) short-lived ESPN morning show called Cold Pizza, which was comprised of the typical morning-show elements--cooking segments, celebrity interviews, et al--but with, being that the show was on ESPN, a decidedly athletic emphasis. The most distinct memory I have concerning her time hosting that show is her interviewing this fellow who worked part-time as a children's entertainer. His final words of the interview were: "If I can bring a smile to a child's face, it's all worth it." And Kit responded, with a warm smile: "Well, you've certainly brought a smile to my face." In sum, Kit conducted that interview with the kind of welcoming warmth and graceful charm that couldn't help but one immediately on her side (This view, sad to say, was, judging from viewer feedback online, not the majority one. Such feedback consisted of comments like: "Oh, my Lord, it should be blindfold and last cigarette time for whoever sold this concept to ESPN. The hosts are lame, the topics are lame. There is not bad enough to be said for this piece of crap...ESPN, have mercy on us [viewers] and kill this turkey," and "How can you have a former Road Ruler [Kit was previously one of the hosts of this non-narrative-TV program called Road Rules] hosting a morning show? That'd be as preposterous as having Paula Abdul judging a singing competit...Oh, wait [referencing Abdul's being one of the judges of American Idol]").                   Very well. Now to the specific items that have put me squarely on Nat and Kit's side.                 .Nat and Kit, while on this European beach and clad appropriately--short-short pants, clingy blouses, and barefoot--played a game called footvolley, a volleyball-like game wherein use of the hands is prohibited, with Marcus and Moe, two bikini-Speedo-adorned hunks (When our gals were informed of the rules and they were facetiously told: "No shirts," they laughed, and Nat, still laughing, responded: "That's not happening"). There was a prologue wherein our AHL chicks Discussed Strategy between themselves (Nat: "Think we can take 'em?" Kit: "I think so. What do you think?" Nat: "I think we can take 'em. Just because they're wearing Speedos doesn't mean they're any better than us"), then we saw the game, during which we saw quite a lot of highly delectable skin, mostly, happily, that of the ladies, and the very ingratiating segment ended on a very ingratiating note, with all of the players placing their hands upon one another's and yelling: "Footvolley!"           .On one AHL segment, the girls played a game of "Total Christmas Recall" along with the veteran actor/television personality Terry Crews with the Full/Fuller House player Dave Coulier officiating. While playing said game, the gals were tethered to each other, both of them wearing Christmas sweaters (Nat's read: "I've been nice," Kit's read: "I've been naughty." For the record, the former wore black thigh-high boots, the latter wore black high heels and matching stretch pants). The format of the game was that Coulier read the descriptions of Christmas-themed pictures and the ladies and Crews raced to this bell and, when it was rung, there was a guess as to which Christmas picture Coulier was describing. As I remember, it was Nat and Kit who wound up winning and, at game's end, high fives were exchanged all around, with Kit lightheartedly telling Crews and Coulier: "You two Detroit boys hug it out right here." It was a highly uplifting end to what was, in all, a highly uplifting segment.                     .Nat and Kit interviewed the actors Sandra Oh and Anne Heche, who had then wrapped a greatly physical picture called Catfight. The conversation ranged from the AHL she-lookers being shown how to throw a punch (Oh: "Before you throw a punch to your partner, you need to make sure that she's seen you") to the liberating quality of Catfight itself (Nat: "I love that it's empowering. It's a feminist thing") to whether or not Oh will ever return to Grey's Anatomy (Oh: "It means a lot to me that a whole generation, a new generation of fans is discovering the show...I just don't know [if I'll ever go back to Grey's]. It would have to feel right"). In sum, we AHL viewers got to spend quality time with a quartet of attractive, appealing females.               During the 1990s, a pair of blonde career women/bombshells came out with a book detailing how women can "have it all" (fulfilling career, satisfying family life) wherein they described what were then the two perceived real and true roles of women: "the Hot Babe In Bed and Sex Machine." While both are of course a monumentally limited view of the female sex, it is getting a dose of Nat and Kit that brings on an intensely strong temptation to--in the positive sense--adopt those outlooks.