#is his employment done for. has he got money saved up. who will look after him
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NOW SHE'S TRYING TO KILL LIGHT????????
L IS VERY SAD ABOUT HIS FRIEND ;A; srsly tho shout out to that actor, he's putting his entire L-ussy into his performance, good for him!!! (pls pronounce it 'ell-ussy' it sounds better that way)
i wonder if im meant to be taking light's part in the film??? he's a wishy-washy snivelling little coward, so im not really. doing that 👀👀👀 i DO like that everyone ELSE is a lot more passionate about murder than he is tho!!! both mia AND L actually WANT to murder ppl for fun and profit OR to avenge a dead friend. they have actual motives and desires and strong feelings!!!!!
meanwhile the king of the incels is going back and forth so much u never even know what he actually WANTS... he just. hasn't got much of. anything really. he's just sort of there. very bland and boring. his high pitched screams are funny tho!!!
#'lord kira' what a fucking JOKE#they play sloooow music over this like im supposed to CARE that these two clowns are about to die#THIS SONG FEELS VERY INAPPROPRIATE FOR THIS SCENE??????#it was wise to keep ryuk in shadow bc he looks uh. bad 👀#no no NO DOn'T FISH HIM OUT!!!!!#LEAVE HIM GO LEAVE HIM DIE!!! I WANT THE FILM TO END!!!!!!!#i wonder what L will be doing after all this#is his employment done for. has he got money saved up. who will look after him#AWWW HE'S NOT DEAD???? feckkkk how did that EXACT PAGE BURN???? come onnnnnnn this is RUBBISH#HOW IS THIS EVEN L'S FAULT?????????#ur man should have listened to light when he wanted to reveal his ~secret~#lol the guy returns the death note to light by just. leaving it on his chest in the hospital#just sets it down gently. doesn't cover it or anything!!!
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AU August Fic 19
Spies and Assassins
:Meister,
My employer would like to hire you for a job. We can pay your full price upfront. All we require is that you provide us:
Proof of termination
2-4 witnesses with clean background who can speak at a trial
A time window so that my employer and his family can cultivate an alibi
We are not interested in exchanging names and all business will be done through a proxy and through me. Once the job is finished we will release the credits to whichever account you provide for us.
Please send us your acceptance promptly.:
:Tell Loupe that I’ll take his job and that he needs better security than a cheap technopath like you and a VPN. Better security at his house too. I could have gone my whole life without knowing that his bonded and him shared a lover.:
:My employer is amused at your attempts to unnerve him. Save the tales for the news sites.:
:So you haven’t told Loupe that you and his lovely, new, young bonded have been fragging in his bed every afternoon? That’ll be a surprise.:
:Your money will be delivered after you complete the job. Remove this thorn in my employer’s side and we may find more work for you.:
:Sure. Send the files, my mech. Who’s the lucky bot that’s got Loupe thrown for a loop?:
:A Praxus enforcer has followed him all the way to Iacon. He thought he was clever, hiding himself among the Polyhexian refugees. Sending the files now.:
0-0-0
:Prowl,
We have reason to believe your cover has been compromised. Retreat.:
:I will be fine. Please stand by.:
:This is not something to take lightly, Captain. Your target has employed the services of an assassin.:
:I am hardly going to miss a hitmech following me around. I will be fine. Please stand by and do not interfere.:
:Not a hitmech. An assassin. Prowl, this is an order. Retreat.:
:Prowl?:
:Prowl, reply.:
:Fraggit Prowl!:
0-0-0
Jazz dropped from the roof and used his magnets to slide down the side of the building. He’d given Loupe a time and made sure that he would have an alibi. He’d scheduled several witnesses to swear to Loupe’s location.
He was level with the window now. Carefully, his shifting gray and brown blending him perfectly with the shadows, Jazz leaned down and looked in.
A clean room, if a little bare. A table set for one. A pile of datapad on the side table by the couch.
This was just sad.
Jazz slowly lifted the window and slipped inside. The dim glow of the kitchen light illuminated the room. He could hear someone moving around in the kitchen.
What a pathetic little room and what a miserable existence. It didn’t even have a screen to watch movies on.
The light dimmed and Jazz turned to look at the mech in the doorway.
Black and white with flat yellow stripes and details. Forgettable enforcer paint and style.
“I suppose Loupe sent you,” the enforcer said.
“Maybe,” Jazz replied, smirking. “What exactly are you going to do about that?”
“Considering your reputation, I doubt there is anything I can do about that now.”
“Brave of you to try and take down someone like Loupe,” Jazz taunted as he walked over and settled himself on the couch. He was going to enjoy this.
“I assure you I am not alone in this. If you think -” Jazz waved his words away.
“Nah, mech. I know all about the enforcer sting. I got all my bases covered before I came calling.”
“Did you?” the enforcer asked skeptically, walking forwards and picking up the empty cube and a few goodie wrappers.
“Yep. I got all the time in the world ta make ya talk ta me.” Jazz stretched and draped his arms over the back of the couch.
“I highly doubt -”
The door to the berthroom creaked open and something small and black darted out on all fours. It bumped into the table. Two dark servos clamped on and it used the table to pull itself up.
The sparkling was matte black all over with a single neon green stripe running down its arms and legs. It had two enormous audials that dwarfed its helm, twitching towards each noise. It stared at Jazz, a sparkling sized block stuck in its mouth.
Jazz frowned, but the sparkling was unaffected.
“Has carrier been letting you sneak out here and stay up late, watching his shows?” Jazz asked, trying to look angry.
The sparkling only dropped the block and squeaked. It used the table to shuffle over to Jazz’s legs. It grabbed onto a pede and waited.
“Prowler, ya have ta stop bringing ya bitlet ta work wit’ ya.”
“Well he couldn’t very well go with you, now could he?” Prowl rolled his optics and took the cube to the kitchen.
“I bet he’d like like ta climb up and down the side of the building!” Jazz called after him, lifting his pede and the excited sparkling up and into his lap.
“Hey, bitlet! Did ya have fun wit’ carrier? Spyin’ and spookin’ on people?”
“He’s a natural,” Prowl said when he returned. The bitlet squeaked and held out a servo to its carrier. “I suppose Loupe thinks I’m going to be murdered sometime tomorrow?”
“Yep! Let slip - terrible of me - that his bonded and his secretary were hiding money. That should be enough of a threat to get the two of them to turn on him and release all of Loupe’s secrets. The enforcers should be arriving any minute now.”
On cue, the wail of sirens cut the night. The bitlet’s audials swiveled towards it and it peered at the window curiously.
“‘S nothing, Radar. Just ya carrier’s friends.” He kissed the little helm and received a happy hum.
Prowl settled in beside him.
“It is late. You should get some rest.”
“You’ve been working this case a lot longer than I have. You should be resting.”
Prowl was silent.
“It’s the premiere of one of your shows, isn’t it?” Jazz sighed. Beside him Prowl bounced slightly.
“It’s the prequel reboot of Rescue Bots: Underground where we get to see their origin story as abandoned sparklings in the underground world of Bolt.”
“I thought they were mystical representations of -”
“That was only in the Limelight movies. This one is based on the original comics - the reboot of the comics. The original original comics had them be an ordinary rescue team that went into stasis deep in space -”
Radar snuggled in and turned one audial towards each creator. The new habsuite was boring and didn’t have all his toys, but being able to sit up with carrier had made it all worth it.
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The End of the World In a Woman’s Hands [Newsies]
chapter twelve
♡ newsies masterlist ♡ previous chapter ♡
summary: Being a girl in the everyday world is difficult. Being the leader of the Manhattan Newsies and a girl? Even more so. Especially when nobody knows you're a girl and the truth is the closest kept secret you have ever had. For Jack Kelly, keeping the truth of her gender a secret is one she's found easy after doing so for many years. Unfortunately, having close encounters with the iron fist, Pulitzer, and a new Newsie who seems determined to get to know her, that secret might just become the opposite.
pairing: fem!jack kelly x david “davey” jacobs
warnings: none
While Pulitzer and his colleagues panic in his office, Jack, David, and Spot enter merrily. Jack clutches one of the Newsies’ papers in her hand and offers it to Pulitzer. “How we doin’ this morning, gents?”
“You’re behind this?” Pulitzer asks. “We had a deal.”
Jack tosses all of the money she had earned from Pulitzer so far onto his desk. “And it came with a money-back guarantee. And thanks for your lessons on the power of the press.” She smiles at him cheekily.
Seitz is skimming through the paper nearby. “Did you read this boss? These kids put out a pretty good paper. Very convincing.”
“I demand to know who defied my ban on printing strike material!”
Jack feigns surprise. “We’re your loyal employers.”
“We’d never take our business elsewhere.” Spot smirks at him.
Seitz comes to a realization before anyone else does. “The old printing press in the cellar.”
Pulitzer takes measured steps towards Jack. “I made you the offer of a lifetime. Anyone who does not act in his own self-interest is a fool.”
“What’s that make you?” David finally speaks. “This all began because you wanted to sell more papers. But now your circulation is down seventy percent. Why didn’t you just come talk to us?”
“Guys like Joe don’t talk with nothin’s like us,” Jack says and their silence is soon interrupted by the sound of all of the Newsies chanting outside.
Spot takes slop steps up to the window. “Have a look out there, Mr. Pulitzer. In case you ain’t figured it out, we got you surrounded.”
“New York is closed for business. Paralyzed. You can’t get a paper or a shoe shine. You can’t send a message or ride an elevator or cross the Brooklyn Bridge. You can’t even leave your own building. So, what’s your next move?”
Bunsen knocks on the door, pausing their conversation. “M-Mr. Pulitzer. You have another visitor.”
“Governor Roosevelt?” Pulitzer asks in surprise.
“Joseph, Joseph, Joseph. What have you done now?” Roosevelt scolds him like an old friend.
“I’m sure when you hear my explanation-”
“I already have a thorough grasp of the situation.” He steps further into the room, stopping directly in front of Pulitzer, beside Jack. “‘Bully’ is the expression I usually employ to show approval. But in your case I simply mean bully!”
Pulitzer gives him a cold glare, not backing down. “Well, Joe,” Roosevelt says. “Give them the good news.”
“What good news?”
“That you’ve come to your senses and rolled back your prices. Unless, of course, you want to invite a full state senate investigation into your employment practices.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“After the pressure you wielded to keep me from office? I’d do it with a smile. Come along, Joseph. There’s only one thing worse than a hard heart, and that’s a soft head.”
Pulitzer growls angrily at him but realizes he’s beat and decides to change tactics. “Ms. Kelly, if I may speak to you…alone.” The others reluctantly withdraw from the room.
“I cannot put the price back where it was.” Jack starts to move away from him. “I’m sorry, I can’t. There are other considerations-”
“I get it. You need to save face in front of all these folks. I’m young, I ain’t stupid.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“But I got constituents with a legitimate gripe!”
Pulitzer starts getting annoyed but he knows he has to be smart about this. “What if I reduce the raise by half and get the others to do the same? It’s a compromise we can all live with.”
Jack pauses to think for a moment. “But you eat our losses. From now on, any papes we can’t sell, you buy back–full price.”
“That’s never been on the table! What’s to stop Newsies from taking hundreds of papers they can’t sell? My costs will explode!”
Jack rolls her eyes. “No Newsie is gonna break his back haulin’ around papes he can’t sell. But if they can take a few more with no risk, they might sell ‘em and your circulation would begin to grow…” She starts to mock Pulitzer. “‘It’s a compromise we can all live with.’”
He inspects her for a moment. “That’s not a bad head you’ve got on your shoulders.”
“Deal?” She spits in her palm, holding it out for him to shake.
He recoils, face twisting. “That’s disgusting.”
“Just the price of doin’ business.” Pulitzer gives in, spitting in his palm and shaking her hand, sealing the deal.
Jack, David, and Spot are led out, Pulitzer and the others behind them. They stop in the crowd where everyone waits to see if a fight will break out or not. “Newsies of New York City,” Jack yells. “...We Won!” The crowd cheers and she takes time to quiet them down. “And now I’d like to introduce my own personal pal, Governor Theodore Roosevelt himself!”
Governor Roosevelt steps forward and the crowd pays rapt attention. “Each generation must, at the height of its power, step aside and invite the young to share the day. You have laid claim to our world and I believe the future, in your hands, will be bright and prosperous.” He turns towards Jack. “We’ve spoken to your friend, Denton. He brought another matter to bear.” He gestures to the officers standing nearby and they bring out several people.
“Hey lookit, Jack. It’s Crutchie!” Race yells and the other Newsies all shout Crutchie’s name in excitement.
“Hiya, fellas. You miss me?” Crutchie greets them all with a shining smile. “And lookit what I got yis: straight from The Refuge.” He directs his attention to the officers nearby. “Bring him in, fellas!” The officers bring a cuffed Snyder into the circle.
“It’s Snyder the Spider!” Race yells.
“He ain’t lookin’ so tough no more, is he?” Mush mocks him, knowing he can’t do anything to them anymore.
Roosevelt places a comforting hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Be assured that Mr. Snyder’s abuses will be fully investigated.”
“Thank you, Governor.” She reaches out to shake his hand. “With the strike settled, I probably should be hitting the road.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of singin’ that same old tune?” Racetrack asks. “What’s Santa Fe got that New York ain’t?”
David steps up to Jack. “Better yet: what’s New York got that Santa Fe ain’t?”
“New York’s got us,” Crutchie says. “And we’re family.”
“‘Sides, what happened to being the leader of the ‘Hattin Newsies?” Race asks, making her remember her words from earlier.
“Now you got her,” Crutchie jokes.
“Oh quit it, Crutch,” Jack says before freezing, realizing he addressed her as a girl. “Wait. You said-”
“I know what I’se said. I knew you were a girl Jack. You’re my best friend, how could I not?”
“Didn’t I hear something about a strike being settled?” Pulitzer interrupts the touching moment, bellowing out to the Newsies.
Weasel and the Delancey brothers open up the counter for them. “Papes for the Newsies. Line up, boys. These papes ain’t gonna sell themselves.”
“You know,” David says, stepping closer to Jack. “If you stay, you’d have one more ace up your sleeve. One you didn’t have before all this.”
She watches him curiously. “What would that be?”
“Me. Wherever you go, I’ll be right there by your side.”
“For sure?”
“For sure.” She laughs softly at him. “What’s so funny, Jacquline?”
“Y’know…it don’t take much to be a dreamer. All you’se gotta do is close your eyes.” He looks at her in confusion, not knowing where she was going with this. “The bad thing is that some made up world is all you’ll ever see. But, now, after everything…my eyes is finally open. And while my dreams may be average sized, they don’t much matter if you ain’t with me, Davey.”
Having enough of it and over taken by her thoughtful words, David grabs her and brings her into a kiss.
Les points at the two of them in excitement. “Guys!” All of the other Newsies see their embrace and catcall and whistle their approval.
“Well, Jack,” Crutchie yells with a smile. “You in or you out?”
Jack pulls away from David with a smile. She approaches Weasel, slapping her money down on the counter, and snatches up her papes. The other Newsies follow along, similar smiles adorning their own faces.
#𐙚 sfw !#newsies#newsies movie#newsies fanfiction#newsies musical#newsboys#jack kelly#female jack kelly#spot conlon#crutchie morris#david jacobs#racetrack higgins#oscar delancey#morris delancey
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Ellora caves
Recently, I visited Ajanta and Ellora caves in Aurangabad district of Maharashtra. The caves are very old. Ajanta caves is focussed on paintings whereas Ellora is focussed on carvings. We have learned about these caves in school but I never got a chance to visit them.
Due to time constraint, we could visit only one cave in Ellora which was made out of a single rock. The carvings of this single rock are always done in top-down fashion so they start carving from the top and then slowly come down to the bottom. That cave is dedicated to lord Shiva and is very huge. I was totally amazed by it’s architecture. There is a main temple at the centre and is surrounded by a boundary which has different panels to demonstrate various life incidents of the lord Shiva. The panels are wonderfully carved and the details are still visible after more than 1000 years of it’s carving. According to the guide there, each panel took 25-30 years to be completed. There are 3 people who usually work on the panel, one is the artist who is working on the carvings, another person who takes the sand and stones out and the third one is the lead artist who looks at the overall plan of the panel to make sure that things are progressing as expected.
Some of the carvings in the panel were incomplete. The artist while carving hits a hard rock and realised that it could not be carved further to shape it in the way he wanted, that's when they decide they cannot work on the panel anymore. It takes us one second to say that the panels are incomplete but for the artist it is like 10-15 years of his life. He starts carving, completes some part of it and then realise that it cannot be further completed. Can you imagine how heart breaking it is? I mean you spend 10 years of your life working on a project, imagining day in and out how amazing the final product will look like and suddenly one day you find out that it’s not going to work out the way you had imagined. All your efforts for last 10 years are a waste.
There are approximately 8-10 generations who have worked on the caves. The level of planning which was undertaken is mind blogging. I actually got a tear in my eye thinking about the vastness of the project which was undertaken. Can you imagine the level of patience those people had? To work on a single thing for 25 years of your life…It is exhausting even to think about it. When I compare it with today’s generation I hardly find any level of patience that is left in us. For example, today we want things now. Imagine we want to buy a new iPhone and for that we are saving for 3 years. Every month we keep some amount on side so that one day we will have enough money saved up to be able to afford that phone. The day we finally hit that target amount to be able to afford that phone is the happiest day of our life. However, what do we today? We buy the phone on EMI/loan/credit. We want the new phone in our hand as soon as it is launched. It is easy to buy anything on loan nowadays irrespective if you afford it or not. Is it a good thing ? Is it a bad thing? I don’t know. However, I feel by doing this we are loosing an important characteristic in us which is patience. We don’t know how to wait for things, earn them and truly deserve them.
The Ellora caves were a built over the period of 200 years. So the person who started the project never saw the end of it and the person who ended the project never saw the start of it. Can we today think about building something which exists beyond us? Do we have that vision? Today, we switch jobs every 3-5 years. We don’t believe in the projects that we are working on. There is no loyalty as it was present in the olden days. Nor from the employees and not from the employers.
Another thing which I was surprised was the technical knowledge these people had earlier. You can’t just create a cave out of any rock. It requires some amount of study which needs to be undertaken to make sure that the rock can hold this structure. There are some horizontal structures which are standing even after 1000 years without any vertical column/beam kind of support. Hearing all this information from the guide, I think somehow we have lost all this information through generations. Today, we don’t have the same knowledge that the older generation had. We have developed our new standards which are not wrong but we developed it from the scratch and didn’t build it on top of the existing knowledge that we already had all these years back. Maybe there was no way to save this information back then and to pass to future generations. Can we do something so that this does not happen again? Whatever findings/discoveries that we have done today can we save it somehow so that the future generation has that information. Today, we can say we have internet and we can save everything on the cloud but internet is not even 30 years old. Do we know for sure that internet is going to be relevant or will be used 1000 years from now? Do we know about that? I don’t know. The previous generation tried to pass on the knowledge to us by using such carvings and paintings with such high quality that they are still intact with us after so many years. What are we going to do to pass on this knowledge to future generations?
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love café
⚬ pairing: jeonghan x fem!reader
⚬ word count: 17.6K
⚬ warnings: some vulgar language, i guess!
⚬ genres: big time nsfw, dirty talk, lap dances, quickies, bath shenanigans, exhibitionism, overstim - you get what i mean. big ole romance, angst, fluff, jeonghan is very rich and very hot, joshua has a not so subtle crush on you.
✧✎ synopsis: while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not.
✧✎ a/n: YES, ANOTHER REWRITE. the original love café was just so unsalvageable that i almost fully wiped its plot, minus the actual concept of the café. so, this should read as fairly new! I HOPE U ENJOY IT !!
It’s not that you were desperate. Because you weren’t.
You were actually more than desperate at this point, and no longer could you sit on that uneven couch with the broken leg, staring at the chipped paint, listening to your neighbours’ screams, believing you should continue like this. More than anything, you were shortchanging yourself. There was no point in holding onto that little string of hope in which those employers might phone you back. It would be impossible to contact your family when you had affirmatively cut ties with them ages ago. And, it was becoming increasingly foolish to ignore your one saving grace, just a street over from your rundown complex.
But, could you really commit to it? Would anyone even be able to look at you and think you were someone desirable enough to reward?
Those thoughts often hung over you like a dark cloud, and poured down so heavily that you were metaphorically drenched, in your own pessimism. However, on that day, you were beyond patience with the cards you’d been dealt. Such a despairing apartment, with all its bugs and drafts and horrible neighbours, could not be your brightest and most fortunate future. There had to be something you could do.
Even if it meant going to the Love Café.
In other words, an easy gig to financial heaven, in exchange for sexual pleasures of course. You walked into your bedroom and sat down in front of the wooden vanity, clicking on a dim, flickering bulb to help illuminate your face as well as its lifeless expression which stared back at you. It didn’t take more than ten minutes to pat your skin with some emptying makeup and thinning pans of eyeshadow. Then, you fixed up your hair and chose a simple, mute-coloured dress from your closet, immediately swallowed by the large winter coat you cozied into.
You hurried quickly down the corridor, ignoring the muffled shouts from your argumentative neighbours bleeding through the nickel-thin walls, past the barking dog which jumped against the door, scratching its nails whenever you waited for the elevator, and you didn’t even spare one glance at the very strange man who always hovered in the central lobby and watched you ignore his coos every single day. By the time you arrived outside the Love Café, you were breathing like a marathon runner. Despite the cold weather, you felt a sweat run like a breeze down your temple as you wiped your face before heading inside.
The space felt warm. Everything was red, pink, or white. And when you inhaled, the air smelled like a note of rose petals and candy. It was surprisingly easy to sign up for a ‘Love Card’ at the front desk.
“This card has twelve punches per service with your partner. If, by the end of the twelfth punch, you’re not looking to pursue something serious with this individual, you can pay for another Love Card. If you do manage to find, ‘the one’, then congratulations, and well wishes. Since you’re a first-time client, you get twenty-five percent off your first card.”
Whoever the lady was, she seemed less than enthusiastic as she pushed a cherry-red paper across the counter with a finely manicured nail. You thought she must have given this spiel so many times, the script probably haunted her in her sleep. Nonetheless, you thanked her, and heeded her direction when she advised you to choose any of the free tables, marked with a pale rose. For some reason, you picked the very last table amongst the row and slid yourself onto the uncomfortable, white chair, the metal back moulded into the shape of a heart.
Whoever reserved the table wasn’t exactly punctual. About half an hour after being seated, ordering yourself a tea, and examining the different clients who filtered in and out the café, you were beginning to assume the worst. That they cancelled. Flaked. Decided to pull from the service and direct their affluence elsewhere. As you titled the last few droplets of tea around the base of the cup, feeling utterly depressed and bored, you heard the little bells clink above the door, followed by a gasp from the employee at the front desk. Considering her microscopic range of emotion, you figured whoever entered must be some flawless rarity.
“Jeonghan!” She fixed her slouched position. “I wasn’t aware you made a reservation today. I haven’t seen your name in the system.”
“No worries. I set an anonymous appointment the night before. After all the chaos I caused last time, I figured it’s best to stay under the radar. I know I’m late. I was finishing up a term paper.”
“That’s quite all right. Here, I’ll just quickly renew your information. One moment… Okay, Yoon Jeonghan, you’re all set.”
At that, your eyes practically bulged right into the teacup. You’d heard his name in some conversations with a few university friends, before you had dropped your program. His father was an inventive in the fashion industry for nearly a decade, and his brand was considered high-end luxury, with people forking up the big bucks just to wear a piece from the collection. His mother recently begun a perfume company. In fact, you had a bottle from her Sunrise series sitting on your vanity, though you used each spritz very sparingly considering its outrageous price point. According to the most recent gossip, Jeonghan had ended his relationship with a model who’d been strutting his father’s cloths.
You couldn’t believe he was here.
No – even worse, you couldn’t believe he was making his way toward your table. It had to be some sort of mistake. How could it be that you chose to sit here? Was the universe attempting another cruel joke?
His visual seemed even more daunting outside his photographs in the magazines. Beyond a glossy page, he was softer. Thick hair, shiny and dark brown, which swooped beneath his ears and parted smoothly at the forehead. His lips were the same shade as the windowsill roses, as well as the high arches in his cheeks. But then, he was sharper too, with a trim, angular jaw and such a defined yet judgemental brow. You had expected anyone else but him. And now, this esteemed, much too beautiful man had come to the very last table, wearing an expression of waning curiosity. Or, as you interpreted it, clear-glass disappointment.
Before Jeonghan seated himself, he untucked his phone from his coat pocket and clicked a side button to check the time. He then sniffled, looked straight at the wall, and sighed. Despite your now devoted wish to disappear, you attempted to begin a conversation that wouldn’t backfire.
“Yoon Jeonghan. I’ve heard the name. It’s nice to meet you.”
He settled one arm on the table, tapping his fingernails.
“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re not a regular here—” he then peered over at your bright red Love Card placed by the teacup to say your name.
Bouncing your leg underneath the table, you nodded. “No, not really. I’ve been debating for a while if this was a choice I should make, but I can’t seem to have ends meet doing anything else. So, I came here.”
Already, Jeonghan looked painfully bored. He stopped tapping his fingers and leaned his chin against the hand instead. You knew it was the insecurity barking. Unnecessarily, you apologized to him.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably not the woman you’re expecting and I get that. I wouldn’t be all that offended if you wanted to save the Love Card for someone else or—”
Out of the blue, Jeonghan laughed, though he attempted to mute the sound by digging the bend of his index finger between his teeth. Your sentence trailed off with an awkward, dying breath. He suddenly leaned back in his metal seat, shaking his head apologetically and pulling back some of the soft hairs from his eyes. You felt utterly confused.
“Sorry, sorry,” he smiled, “didn’t mean to discourage you there, sweetheart. I’ve just never had someone apologize for—well, their looks.”
“I-I don’t know,” you lunged for damage control, “I just thought you seemed disappointed and I… Well, I haven’t done this before, so I don’t really know all that well how it works. I… I should stop talking…”
It felt as though someone had swatted both your cheeks in an iron-slap, because the skin was stinging hot like never before. You knew he was staring at you, probably thinking to himself that you were a train wreck waiting to happen. Afterward, an employee visited the table to collect your emptied teacup, and asked Jeonghan if he’d like anything to drink. Refusing to look elsewhere but the clenched fists in your lap, you waited for the employee to leave once Jeonghan rejected the offer. He’d pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. Uncapping the pen with his teeth, you watched him sloppily scribble something down.
“My number.” He said, sliding it across the table. “Listen, I’ve gotta go home and proofread that term paper before I submit it. Just send me a text, okay? I won’t be free for a few days, anyways.”
“Oh, okay.” You sniffled.
Quite frankly, you couldn’t comprehend that he was still interested in pursuing something venereal, even when you had embarrassed yourself like a circus act. He rose quickly from the table and wrapped the waistband of his coat tight around his small waist.
Staring down at the paper, you blurted out, “are you sure?”
Jeonghan titled his head. “Am I sure of what?”
“Never mind.” You answered. “I’ll text you later.”
“Okay.” He nodded, on the verge of walking away when he abruptly stopped himself. “Are you always this nervous?”
Caught off guard by his question, your elbow whacked the edge of the table and you meekly stuttered, “I-I don’t know…”
You were more than positive he was going to ghost all your texts.
To a degree, you were correct.
Over the course of the following week, you sent Jeonghan at least three texts, each on separate days, only to be rewarded with a demotivating lack of responses. You knew he was a busy individual who probably didn’t have much time to waste on promiscuous affairs, let alone a committed relationship. So, you tried very earnestly to not feel upset or unimportant at his methods – even despite the series of required payments glaring you down from those white envelopes scattered atop the kitchen table.
And then, during the black, late hours of a snowy Friday, you received a reply. A surprisingly urgent one which detailed that you make it to the downtown Opal Studio before eleven o’clock, as there would be a backdoor entrance left unlocked for your access. He mentioned a storage closet underneath a staircase, worded very sternly as: … Wait inside, and do not make yourself known. I’ll see you there shortly, and ensure you leave without being spotted. Uncertain of what the situation would entail, you phoned a cab and payed the driver using some remaining funds from a paper note purse. The studio’s front was a smooth, velvet black, with a wide window which illuminated several mannequins wearing Mr. Yoon’s newest issue. Each outfit cost a pretty penny.
Like you anticipated, Jeonghan was late to meet you in the storage closet; however, you were at no point going to scold his blatant disregard for scheduling when he’d pressed you tight against the door looking the way he did. Buttons popped down the chest of his unwrinkled dress shirt, sleeves cuffed to his elbows, and his neat, styled hair beginning to dishevel around those intense eyes. He braced his hand beside your head, studying your lips as though they were glittering.
“Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan asked. The question seemed to rumble from deep in his throat and you felt your knees weaken.
You nodded immediately, allowing his hand to frame the side of your cheek as his warm, soft mouth nudged against yours. It was gentle for a fleeting touch, and then there was pressure, teeth, a slick tongue running across your bottom lip and leaving you in such a sensual daze that you just stood there with a parted mouth. Jeonghan definitely knew what he wanted from you in that moment. And he wanted it quick. You were flipped around, chest pushed against the door, skirt hiked up impatiently as the fabric ruffled around your hips. His hand slid between your thighs to rub you through the thin pair of underwear, pressing firmly enough that you could feel the cold, thick rings on his fingers.
Eagerly, you began a slow gyration of grinding against Jeonghan’s touch while simultaneously biting down hard on your bottom lip, knowing embarrassingly well that you were already sticky and soaking and ready for him to use you like a designated fucktoy. He was rather flush to your backside as he dug the heel of his palm against your clit, so much yet not enough between the cotton. Something about his scent was beyond arousing, and it gripped to him like a web. An expensive cologne no doubt, mature, raw, and ocean-fresh. You heard the sound of his belt being whipped open, followed by a zipper.
“Alright,” Jeonghan hummed, passing a hand up his length, “let’s make this quick. Gotta be back upstairs in five to finish the measurements and tapering and all that boring shit. Now, just be a good, quiet little girl for me, sweetheart, and this’ll be a cake walk.”
Your mouth stretched into a low, whiny groan as Jeonghan held your underwear aside and began to sink inside of you, his hips stalled against your skin. His light breath then fluttered at your ear, “bet you’d make such a perfect toy to keep my cock nice and warm. Feels so perfect, being this deep inside you, sweetheart.” He shuddered against you, thrusting once, twice, slowly and teasingly dragging himself out before ramming right back in to pinch you against the door.
“Fuck,” he cursed between his teeth, “life would be so much easier if I could just keep you right here on my cock, wouldn’t it, baby?”.
Undoubtedly, that smooth-talking tongue of his was going to be an impending problem. You don’t know where he got off exactly on such scandalous thoughts, but you were too consumed in your own lust to care. The way he fucked you against that door with one hand scraping at your hip and the other wrapped up your throat, fingers pressing hot into your drooling mouth to keep you quiet, it was more bliss than a one-way ticket to Eden. Jeonghan timed his orgasm appropriately, slipping himself from your warmth at the last second and finishing himself off using the hand which had been maintaining your silence. His breaths were slow but husky in the aftermath, his fingers painted in cum.
“You wouldn’t want to use that pretty mouth of yours to clean this, would you?” He laughed.
Before you could respond, Jeonghan had grabbed some paper towels left to sit on a shelf and cleaned the mess himself. Then, as though nothing had happened, he asked if you were carrying that damn Love Card before you could even flatten down the wrinkles in your skirt. You grabbed the small note purse you set down next to the paper towels and revealed the obnoxiously coloured card. Jeonghan smiled.
“That’s the one.” He took a dry erase marker from the shelf and wrote his initials in the first circle.
“Here,” Jeonghan proceeded to offer back the card, “one session down. I need to scram. The hall should be clear at this hour, but have a cab ready just in case you need to bolt fast. Oh—before I go, you got the money to pay the driver? It’s no problem if you’re short. I can cover.”
“N-No, I should have enough.” You answered.
“Cool. I’ll transact you tonight.” Jeonghan nodded, tucking in his shirt rather poorly before slipping past you to exit the storage closet.
One week later, you were at the entrance to the library, pulling open the door with a big, cold huff. It was much warmer inside. You were beginning to feel the tips of your stiff fingers again.
Despite your service at the Love Café, you wanted one last time to test your luck on a receptionist position at the downtown hair salon, simply because you would think better of yourself if you weren’t relying chiefly on Jeonghan to pay your bills. His last transaction had been more than you anticipated. Finally, you were able to erase that huge electricity bill, and you still had enough of the money left over to supply some warm meals for the next few days. If you could just submit your newest resume to the salon, then you might be able to permanently cover the groceries.
Except, you needed access to a computer.
Ever since you tipped over a glass of water onto your old laptop, it had stopped working properly, and the library was the only place close by which let you use the computer room without fees. However, as you peered in through the backroom window to find an open space, you realized just how crammed full it was. Judging by everyone’s intense typing and unblinking eyes, you weren’t going to steal a seat anytime soon, which pulled out a frustrated sigh as you fiddled with the USB in your pocket. You thought about heading home, until you saw Jeonghan.
He was seated at the distant left corner, leaned back comfortably in the chair while he examined something on his laptop. A gym bag was slid underneath the table, and he was dressed as though he had some sort of sports practice; quite the contrary to his usual crisp, ironed shirts and heavy winter coats courtesy of brands you couldn’t pronounce. He seemed concentrated, chewing on his thumb nail while he tapped the touch pad. In fact, he didn’t notice that you had approached him until you said his name quietly from across the table and his eyes flickered.
“Uh, hey.” Jeonghan replied, sounding bothered while he pushed his thumb harshly against his bottom lip. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“And I didn’t expect to see you.”
He shrugged, maintaining his uninterested glance on the laptop screen. “Well, I’m looking over some notes. Last minute stuff.”
You nodded. “What’s with the duffle bag?”
“My friend Joshua – he’s been making me coach this Peewee soccer team with him at the Greenfield Dome.” Jeonghan puffed out his chest, letting an arm fall loosely to his side. “Those kids are insane. They have too much energy. I shouldn’t have let that bastard sweet talk me.”
At that, you giggled, though immediately hushed yourself when the librarian came by with a metal cart, filled with books to shelve. You stepped around the table to move out of her way. Jeonghan pulled out the chair beside him using his foot and nodded that you take a seat.
“What are you doing here?” He asked.
You reached into your pocket and pulled out the USB.
“I need to upload my new resume. I mean, I probably won’t hear anything back from this place, ‘cause that’s how it usually goes. But, whatever. Thing is, I busted my laptop, and now the computer room is filled up. I’ll just come back later and hope it’s cleared out.” Staring down at your shoes, you avoided Jeonghan’s gaze. “I know I’m doing this Love Café stuff, but it would still be nice to have my own income, you know?”
“I get that.” He replied, scratching at his collarbone. “I’ve already got my laptop here and everything. You can use it, if you want.”
“Really?” You smiled wide. “Thanks.”
Jeonghan closed a few tabs that he’d been rotating between before sliding his laptop over to you. Wriggling the memory stick into the small slot at the side, you logged into your email account through the main search engine. As long as you could send your resume to the salon before they closed their application deadline, then you would hope for the absolute best, even if it was an unstimulating, lacklustre gig answering phones and scheduling hair appointments all day. Just as you went to drag the file into your email, Jeonghan’s laptop froze.
“Uh, Jeonghan,” you whispered, “nothing’s moving. Do I just wait? Does this normally happen? Did I screw something up?”
He shook his head and laughed. “Relax, relax. It’s been doing that a lot recently. I figured out if you hold down these keys—” Jeonghan suddenly scooted his chair in very close, his thigh pressing against yours as he reached a hand underneath your arm, the other lightly nudging your fingers off the keyboard, “then it goes back to normal. See?”
“O-Oh, yeah. It’s working.” You stuttered, not all staring at the specific keys he clicked because the side of his face was much too pretty.
Granting you access to the keyboard again, Jeonghan leaned away, though he didn’t move his thigh from yours even an inch. It was almost concerning how flustered you felt. Jeonghan had literally pinned you against a closet door and fucked his own hand right in front of you, and yet, your heart was fluttering tenfold. In a much different way. And it lit this spark of fear and adrenaline at the core of your chest like gasoline hitting a wicked flame. You detached the USB stick, logged yourself out from the email account, and moved quickly off the seat.
In a hurried breath, you said, “thanks so much!” and proceeded to leave the library as though someone were trailing you with a pitchfork.
While it was embarrassing, you knew it was necessary. There was no way you were going to crush on that boy. It was strictly business.
Tired. Aching.
Uncomfortable moisture covering the slopes and divots of your body. You didn’t think there was anything left inside you for him to so commandingly take, like his name were inked to your each and every limb. And yet, Jeonghan wasn’t ready to let you rest. The mattress dipped behind you, the heat of his chest sticking to your back, the weight of his erection pressed right at your tailbone. While his lips kissed softly up your neck, Jeonghan slid his hand in between your thighs to continue pleasuring you, ignoring the responsive whimpers attached to your sensitivity. He’d already brought you to two orgasms, though you were sensing the overbearing rush of a third.
An index and middle finger slid down to your entrance, the contact beyond slippery, a sort of wet velvet, and you hardly recognized the sensation unlike the first time he’d touched you. Jeonghan hooked the digits deep, using the heel of his palm to rub a thorough friction against your clit. Working faster and faster, his laboured breaths fanned hot across your neck while he sharply concentrated on making you starry-eyed. It was pain. It was bliss. It was exactly what you wanted most and everything you couldn’t endure at the same time. You came heavily, screamed as the pulsation at your core felt almost violent.
Unable to fully ride out the pleasure, you attempted to curl away from Jeonghan, hiding your face in the pillows and further tilting your hips. However, the boy followed your movement. He stayed snug to your back, practically leaned over top you with the latter arm braced next to your head while his hand pounded and pounded. The amount of liquid gushing onto his fingers and spilling down his wrist felt almost comical, and you were certain that you had never orgasmed so intensely in your life. To make matters worse, it seemed as though he’d taken that little memory box in your head filled with all your language and tossed it right out the damn window. You couldn’t form one word other than sobs.
Jeonghan breathed a light, shaky chuckle beside your ear. “Trying to run from me, sweetheart? When I can make you feel so good? Look at how much you can take, honey. Such a good girl when you cum so fucking hard ‘round my fingers I can barely move them.”
The sound of his digits sliding out from your entrance was the most impure, salacious noise you didn’t know could exist. Rolling slowly onto your back, you saw the immediate coating on Jeonghan’s hand and the drops beading down his wrist. He caught one with his tongue, licking all the way back up like he was cleaning the juice from a melted popsicle, and you almost couldn’t watch him. In fact, you were exhausted. There wasn’t anything left for you to offer, and the thought of moving from his bed when your core felt this utterly sore and your muscles this tight set a perfectly timed cue for your eyes to fall shut. It was heavenly.
Nonetheless, Jeonghan had a very specific rule. There was no staying past your session, and he was often strikingly clear about it. But this was the first time you’d been pushed to such a degree. He must be able to recognize that it was only a short nap you needed, and perhaps a quick minute under the shower to rid your skin of the sticky sweat.
Out of the blue, something was tossed onto your face. It was your t-shirt earlier stripped and thrown to the floor by Jeonghan. Cracking an eye open and peeling away the fabric to hang loosely from your grip, you sighed. He had already slipped back into his exercise pants.
“Seriously? I’m exhausted.”
He threw a loose flannel over the long, beaming red scrapes that you had clawed down his back, shaking his head with a huff.
“I’m not saying you need to get out right now. I’ve got a dinner with the parents at eight.” Jeonghan proceeded to drop the rest of your undergarments onto bed. “So, you gotta be gone by a quarter to, alright?”
Swallowing dryly, you nodded.
“Alright.”
The next morning, you were seated on the edge of your bed, staring with bleary eyes at the smooth, red Love Card that was initialed to its fifth circle, leaving only eight more sessions with Jeonghan. Though you approached the café with nothing more than an intention to earn money (even if the sex would be inexplicably dull), you were beginning to presume that there was more to this business than you thought. Because the sex wasn’t dull. It was concerningly amazing. And the very man who you had sworn to maintain a no-strings-attached type relationship with was throwing you for a loop. But he was boundary driven.
Be ready to go by this time. No sparkly clothes. Leave nothing in the washroom. Don’t show up here. Don’t show up there. Don’t text me unless this. Don’t call me unless that. Jeonghan knew very explicitly that you were a simple trick to relieving his stress and fulfilling his sexual desires, yet, anything further than that was laughably impossible. And, besides, it’s not like you needed to be in love or have this dazzling, perfect boyfriend. There was too much on your plate already.
You had gone to bed in a thick wool sweater, layered with the heaviest comforter you had due to the broken heating. Ignoring the cold, your next-door neighbours had found themselves in another drunken argument, forcing you to hear the unnerving crack of beer bottles and an outrageous number of insults, ranging from the very straightforward, ‘ridiculous bitch” to the audacious, “go fuck yourself, narcissistic prick.”
Thankfully, the dramatics ended just before three am.
You set the Love Card back on your nightstand. After you splashed mild water onto your face from the sink, you started multitasking, attempting to brush your teeth and remove your pyjama bottoms at the same time. Then, there was a knock at your door. You spared a glance through the peephole while the toothbrush hung from the corner of your mouth and the frigid air hit your bare legs. Upon recognizing the face reflected through the fisheye lens, you nearly choked on the mint-flavoured spit collected at the back of your throat, which forced you to unpleasantly compose yourself at the kitchen sink.
He knocked again, and you pulled the door open almost immediately, probably appearing as though you just hiked through the wilderness. Jeonghan’s eyes widened as he smiled at you.
“Damn. Sleep well?” He remarked, looking you up and down.
You were in the midst of a yawn as you answered. “Um, yes. I-I mean no. Wait, I don’t know what I’m saying. What was the question?”
Jeonghan nodded. “I’ll take that as a no.” He then reached into the pocket on his flannel coat. “Anyways, I have your phone. You left it on my bedside table the other night. Figured it’s kind of useful, I guess.”
“Oh my god. I did that?” You winced, realizing you must have been so tired and discombobulated from Jeonghan blowing your brains out that you forgot. “It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
Leaning your temple against the door, you sighed. “How was that dinner thing with your parents? Was it any fun?”
The boy shook his head, pulling out his car keys and tossing them from hand to hand. “No. It was all business bullshit. What they want me to do with my future after I graduate uni. How to be responsible with my money since they think I’m gonna blow it in a few years. Trying to structure my life around stuff I don’t really give a damn about.”
“O-Oh…” You frowned, “well, was there at least good food?”
Jeonghan stopped playing with his keys and titled his head at you. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes gentle, “they had great red velvet cake.”
Unfortunately, your neighbours must have woken up and decided it was a little too peaceful at such an hour, because you heard a loud, clanging thump echo from the room beside yours, like someone had dropped a metal pot or pan on the ground. Of course, the yelling started.
It didn’t last nearly as long compared to the night before, just a few scolding comments which were ultimately muffled. You wondered what Jeonghan was thinking as he blinked at the neighbour’s door and realized how despairing the narrow, dimly-lit hallway looked. After visiting his high-end apartment numerous times based in the luxury core of the city, with its beautiful architecture and sparkle, you were frankly a bit humiliated he was witnessing this drab part of your life – the reason you were seeking his service in the first place. You apologized through your teeth for the commotion, though Jeonghan merely shrugged.
“It’s better than nothing, right?”
“Yeah, that’s true. But those two next door can be a handful sometimes. I don’t get it. If they hate each other, then just break up. Get divorced. It’s like they want to be miserable on purpose.”
“Bet you wish you could get the hell outta here, huh?”
“All the time.” You replied wistfully. “I’m thinking of going to the mall today, actually. I need a new bath towel. Whatever gets me away.”
“You want a ride there?” Jeonghan asked, shaking his keys.
At that, you smiled a little too wide. “Maybe.”
Carefully, you picked up a thin, glass bottle of pink perfume from the display counter, tilting the liquid back and forth as the lights gleamed off the gold nozzle. Everything inside the store was diamond bright and almost blinding, while the air smelled strongly of expensive floral. The employees were tailored in smooth, sophisticated suits, which made you more petrified than usual to touch anything, hence your very delicate inspection of the perfume as you waited for Jeonghan to finish his conversation with the front clerk. Since his father’s collection was sold at the boutique, Jeonghan seemed to have a cordial relationship with the staff, and they had recognized him almost immediately.
As most of their merchandise was quite expensive, you always ignored the boutique until Jeonghan suggested you stop by. It didn’t help that there was actually some cute clothing begging to be bought, though you knew one swift glance at the price tag would change your mind. You brought the perfume bottle close to your nose and inhaled lightly.
“What does it smell like?” Jeonghan asked.
You sniffed again. “It’s sweet, though it’s not strong.”
“Let me smell.” He said, and so you raised the bottle up to his nose. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around yours as he took a breath, shaking his head in disapproval. “That’s all wrong. I don’t like it.”
“It is kind of high schoolish.” You told him, setting the test bottle back onto the counter as though you were laying down a jewel. “I just need a new scent, you know? I actually love that one bottle your mom did, the summer tropic one. It’s so peachy but mild. I’m running out.”
“For real?” Jeonghan laughed, his eyes skipping over the different shaped containers. “You use one of my mom’s perfumes?”
“Um, yeah. Have you even smelled the tropic one? It’s amazing.”
“I don’t hang around her laboratory too often.” He replied. “It gives me a big fucking headache. Smells like this place times a hundred.”
You shrugged. “I guess that’s understandable.”
Suddenly, Jeonghan had latched his hand around your elbow, pulling you around to the opposite side of the counter. He grabbed a tall, slim bottle that was made from foggy glass and a chrome silver pump.
“C’mon, give me your wrist for a second.” He said. “Try this scent. I don’t know why, but it reminds me of you.”
Pulling up your sleeve, you stuck out your wrist and allowed him to spray a thin layer against the skin. Then, you sniffed the area. At first, your forehead crinkled as you attempted to decipher its concoction of notes. There was something a little fresh and cool, but then there was this oddly mature hint of a distinguished floral scent. You couldn’t pinpoint the flower, but it was certainly addictive and very intriguing.
“It’s called Orchid Night. Smells great, right?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, rolling your sleeve back down “just don’t tell me what it costs. It has to be at least fifty bucks.”
“Try sixty-nine,” Jeonghan corrected, “plus tax, don’t forget.”
Immediately, you grabbed the bottle from his hand and returned the perfume to its small podium on the countertop.
“Well, let’s put it back before we break it.”
Jeonghan smirked. “I could buy it for you.”
For a split second, you were tempted to succumb, though you snapped from the thought at the last second and shook your head.
“No way. I wouldn’t let you, anyways.”
He buried his hands in his pockets, rolling those gold-copper eyes of his. Jeonghan made sure to purposefully bump into you as he walked down the bright aisle toward the clothes. “Honestly, you’re so boring, man. That scent, on you? It would be sexy.” The boy then turned around to smother you with a burning gaze. “But, fine. Have it your way.”
You hurried after him, scoffing lightheartedly to camouflage the fact your heart was beating like a broken pendulum. Jeonghan had stopped at a rack of neatly pressed clothing to sort through the hangers.
“My way is the better way,” you smiled, “always.”
Jeonghan moved the long-sleeved button-up he’d been eyeing back onto the rack, merely blowing out a puff of air.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Besides, I still need to get my bath towel.”
“We can find it on the bottom floor. At the new essentials store that just opened up. The Shower Duck, I think.”
“The Shower what?”
He couldn’t help but cackle while repeating himself. “The Shower Duck. You thought I said something else, didn’t you?”
When you were too tongue-twisted to reply, Jeonghan decided to place his fingers softly on your chin, holding your head still as he leaned in very closely to whisper, “you’re such a dirty girl, you know that?” You almost hated how casually he pulled away and continued to examine the clothing, as though he hadn’t just murmured a lascivious comment into your ear while the employees were standing a mere few meters across the store. More than anything, you desired the courage to deservingly tease him in return, to break that relaxed little shtick of his. Except, you weren’t confident nor subtle enough to attempt anything in public.
But when your eyes landed on that brand-new lingerie set wrapped primly on the nearest mannequin, you had a wonderful idea.
“No, are you being serious? Why? Why?”
His blunt fingernails sunk into the leather arms of the desk chair, scraping upward, as equally frustrated with your cruel antics as he was aroused and impatient. Maybe it was somewhat meanspirited to strut the thin, beautiful lace and ribbons curled around your body in a baby pink, and indeed, there was a moment where you pondered leniency, though, you severed the thought, because Jeonghan would surely tear each garter and bow from your outfit like it hadn’t cost anything at all. Pursing your bottom lip, you smiled, sinister and cold.
“I am being serious,” you stated firmly, nearing closer to his desk chair, “your hands won’t touch a single part of me, Jeonghan.”
He glared up at you with a dark, flickering fire in his eyes, as if he were already weighing the consequence to breaking such rules. You began to sit comfortably on the boy’s lap, curling your arms around his neck while maintaining the intensity of the stare.
“And, if you do, I’ll grab my things and leave. It’ll just be you and your hand, for the rest of the night.” Purposefully, you brushed delicate lips, featherlight, along his warm, red-tinged ear, to which you could practically feel him harden underneath you upon the whisper, “and there’ll be nothing you can do other than remembering how good it felt when I was in your lap, grinding down on you, baby boy, just like this.”
Slowly and with focus, you rolled your hips in a deep, smooth gyration, ensuring Jeonghan felt the heavy pressure against all the right places. His hands keened for your waist, so you immediately reminded him of your unnegotiable rules, forcing them to settle on the arms of the chair. He drew in a sharp breath. And then, he started to laugh, like a beaten protagonist receiving their first, acrid taste of defeat. Jeonghan titled his head back to smile very lazily at you.
“Evil.” He said. “You’re fucking evil.”
“Mmhm,” you agreed, continuing the unhurried, steadfast pace of your hips rolling back and forth, observing with poorly hidden glee as the boy lost his smile, “but you’ll still cum, won’t you, Jeonghan?”
Before he could sneak in a clever rebuttal, you adjusted yourself even lower onto his lap, digging your nails down the back of his neck as you circled a thorough motion against his erection. Admittedly, it was difficult to maintain the domineering act. Even through the black material of the slacks, his cock was managing to create a friction with your lace underwear, a friction so rough yet fruitless that you were already tempted to take him, full and aching inside you. In order to distract yourself, you licked the tender side to Jeonghan’s neck, looping your tongue in a messy, warm pattern overtop a sensitive vein.
“Ff-fuck,” Jeonghan stuttered, scraping harshly along the chair, “you devilish little girl, c-can’t believe you’re g’nna make me cum like this—b-but it feels so damn good the way you’re moving, baby.”
You suckled until you’d drawn a shiny, wine-coloured hue to the surface of Jeonghan’s skin, to mark a dark bruise as a keepsake. He kept breathing through a parted mouth, each exhale shakier and more erratic than the last, his knuckles hard like stone while they gratingly tensed and betrayed his frustration at not being able to touch you. With slow, teasing hands, you began to drag them down his chest, nails clawing at the expensive fabric of his dress shirt. Jeonghan squirmed. He clenched his jaw and cursed rough under his breath. You focused on where his cock was poking you to apply the most dizzying pressure thus far, rolling your hips until something inside Jeonghan snapped and you felt him cum.
“Jesus—fuck!” He shouted, the loudest you had ever heard the boy, and there was a notable tear in his usually soft voice. “Keep going, keep going,” Jeonghan panted, squeezing his eyes shut, “keep fucking moving just like that, sweetheart. A-Ahh, ff-fuck, feels s-so good—"
At the pulsating sensation right beneath your core, you submitted to Jeonghan’s wish and continued grinding down, even if you were beginning to tire at your lack of stamina. However, there came a point where you were too breathless to maintain such a pace, so you trickled to a halt and steadied your hands on his firm shoulders. He tossed his head back, neck leaned against the edge of the chair. The hazy, glass look to his brown eyes and the rose glow smeared on each cheek made it appear as though he’d just touched down from heaven. As you shifted slightly in Jeonghan’s lap, you noticed the white stream of cum that had soaked through his pants, and that somehow, he was still hard.
“I didn’t know you could beg, Jeonghan.” You remarked, grinning, meanwhile attempting to catch your breath.
He shook his head. “Don’t expect it too much.”
“Well, I can tell you’re satisfied, either way.”
He chuckled, brushing some of the loose hairs from his face. You felt his hands settle upon your waist’s bare skin, warm and squeezing. In that moment, you just didn’t possess the same acuteness to scold him.
“Almost,” Jeonghan huffed, “but, what do you suppose you’ll do to please yourself, sweetheart?” He leaned forward, until his forehead was just a sliver away from bumping yours, the boy sliding a hand down your abdomen and beneath the lace underwear. As he stroked the tips of his fingers along your slit, he smirked. “I’ve never felt someone so wet before, dripping all over my fingers and I’m barely touching you. Did it turn you on that much, sweetheart? Feeling my hard cock right underneath this needy pussy of yours?” Jeonghan teased with a smirk and a low, calm tone. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to duct tape his mouth shut or allow him to keep talking, as there was something about his honeyed voice which wound you up like clockwork.
Yet, before you could even start the syllable of a response, Jeonghan pushed you strongly from his lap, his hands glued to your waist as he guided you to stumble against the bed. Your back hit the mattress, the sheets puffing up around you. And then, Jeonghan was kissing you, lips clashing messily while he took advantage of the switched power dynamic to run his hands over your every inch. One second, they were cupping your breasts overtop the baby pink bralette. Another second, they were grabbing at your ass and kneading so desperately. You were being ravaged. It was overwhelming, it was gratifying, it was needed beyond belief.
“Hey,” Jeonghan said, separating his mouth from the side of your throat to stare at you with an oddly sentimental eye, “before I get all up in your guts and everything— you look beautiful. Even if you did choose this outfit to be a big fucking tease.” His fingers brushed down the edge of your jaw, and he smiled at you in a way that wasn’t clever or teetering on sarcasm. Your heart leapt like a little frog in your chest.
“Really?” You questioned him, not because you didn’t believe the lingerie suited your figure, but rather, you weren’t expecting this sweetness from someone who was always so quick to get rid of you.
He nodded, raising a suspecting eyebrow. “Yeah, really. What, you think I’m lying to you or something?”
“No, I don’t think that,” you answered quickly, curling your fingers into the bedsheets, “I just—I wasn’t… Uh, never mind.”
“Alright,” Jeonghan laughed, lowering his head to delicately kiss your cheek, and then your neck, “you’re a bit strange sometimes, you know that?” He mumbled against the sensitive skin, even daring to dig his knee between your thighs to make you increasingly pliable.
“I-I know,” you stuttered, unable to help your embarrassing voice crack. But you still smiled, letting Jeonghan explore and pleasure your body with an uncharacteristic tenderness for the remainder of the night.
Twelve am.
Usually, at this time, you’d be at the bottom floor of his apartment complex, seated by the lobby water fountain. You’d be examining your face with a pocket mirror, awaiting the yellow taxi cab, and trying to avoid eye contact with the wealthy businesspeople filtering from the elevators in glamourous congregation.
However, tonight was different.
Tonight, you were in Jeonghan’s bed, with a white sheet covering the lower half of your bodies, an ear pressed to his bare, warm chest while you breathed him in like the wind on a bright summer’s day. You felt his fingertips trace long figure eights down your spine and then dance back up to the subtle curve of your shoulder blades. Sometimes it tickled, other times it was a touch so soft it was hardly there, and in between you thought he might have been tracing words. The room was quiet. But good quiet— the comfortable quiet. And then you heard Jeonghan speak into the crown of your head while his hand stilled at your waist.
“Did that salon ever call you back?” He asked.
You sighed, focusing on your thumb which brushed a small freckle on his pectoral muscle. “They emailed me, and said their position was already filled, but that they’ll try to look for another opening.”
Jeonghan rubbed your hip. “That’s good, right? I mean, they didn’t just flat out reject you. They’re gonna keep you in mind.”
“It’s better than what I’m used to getting,” you answered, pressing your lips together and tilting your head up at him.
And, that’s when it struck you, like someone had just clanged a bell right beside your head. You were still in Jeonghan’s bed. You were still in Jeonghan’s apartment. You were still with Jeonghan. Feeling as though you’d broken some vastly significant cardinal rule, you operated on a strange basis of panic and autopilot, already seated at the edge of the mattress while you tucked your underwear back on.
“I’m sorry,” you spewed, reaching for your shirt next and straightening it out frantically in your lap, “the time escaped me. I-I know I have to go. And, my Love Card, I think it’s in my purse or—”
“Can you slow down?” Jeonghan laughed, casting a hand through his loose, disarrayed hair which you had admittedly tugged earlier in the night like your life depended on it. The boy’s arms circled around your midframe, hugging your back to his chest. “I don’t care about that stupid card right now,” Jeonghan hummed into your ear, “stay.”
At that, you almost choked. “Stay? You want me to stay?” You repeated dumbly, dropping the inside-out shirt back onto your lap.
The coldest shiver split down your spine as Jeonghan buried his face against your neck, taking a breath of your scent, kissing your skin.
“Yeah,” he purred, now pecking the soft spot behind your ear, “I want you to stay. Or, if you really want to go home, I won’t stop you.”
“No,” you replied almost immediately, melting into his voice, his touch, his body, “trust me, I’d rather be here.”
Jeonghan’s arms relaxed their snug grip.
“I figured that.”
Even though you had strongly protested the idea, Jeonghan succeeded at wearing you down akin to an ocean tide forming whorls into rock, and now you were seated before your vanity with an array of makeup scattered at your fingertips as you prepared for a dinner. His parents were going to be there, in addition to some business partners and close friends, which sounded like something from a hellish nightmare. In fact, Jeonghan himself didn’t seem all that eager to attend. He’d been sprawled across your bed for the past half hour, with the long drapes of his coat fanned around him, as he flipped through an old magazine. You were certain he just didn’t want to tough another dinner alone.
After focusing a spritz of perfume to your neck (the orchid one, bought by Jeonghan, because he was very insistent that you not smell like his mother) you shut off the vanity lights and sighed.
“I think I’m ready… Physically though, not mentally.”
Jeonghan yawned, tossing the magazine aside before he pushed himself to sit upright on the bed. He rubbed at his eye.
“Trust me, it’s not going to be the big, royal midnight ball that you’re picturing. My parents have these dinners all the time. You’ll be the centre of attention for a few minutes, and then it’s pretty much just business central from there. You’ll be lucky if you can even get a word in. I stopped trying months ago.”
You smiled at him, feeling slightly better about the situation, and took one last, scrutinizing glance in the mirror. The dress was simple yet elegant, a mute shade of dark blue with a beaded, crystal belt that you had forgotten about, as you discovered it laying behind a stool shoved in your closet. The fabric had an elastic tightness to it and was hemmed shorter than you remembered, just above your fingertips. You tried not to judge or overthink the figure which reflected in the vanity glass, or what Jeonghan’s parents might assume upon their first introduction to someone who was so clueless on their accolades. It was merely a dinner.
“Stop worrying so much,” Jeonghan hummed, sensing that you were at the forefront of a spiral. His hands settled to your hips and he caught your eye through the mirror. “No one is going to judge you, or poke fun at you, or say anything mean. I promise.” He then grabbed your winter coat off the bed, helping you slide into the arms, and even doing up the buttons. “You’re gorgeous.” Jeonghan said, tapping your chin.
It didn’t help that he could fluster you so easily.
Joshua wasn’t at all who you expected him to be, while simultaneously encompassing everything you would indeed expect from the position of Jeonghan’s closest friend. He was a juxtaposition personified. Slick, ash blonde hair combed into a handsome wave, eyes which twinkled like the restaurant’s diamond chandelier, and a soothing voice which could be a cup of warm milk on a frosty day, though his interactions with Jeonghan portrayed him as childlike and frivolous. He greeted you, at first with a quick hug. You heard him exhale deeply.
“Wow,” Joshua commented, retreating to shake your hand, “you smell amazing! I mean—well, I hope that doesn’t sound weird.”
You laughed, and wondered how someone could smile with such a prettiness. “Thank you! I’d be upset if you didn’t notice, actually.”
Joshua continued to shake your hand. “Oh, yeah, agree. It’s wonderful to meet you. Jeonghan’s been trying to hide you, it seems.”
“Go shove a break stick in your mouth,” Jeonghan scoffed, blowing a loose piece of hair from his eyes, “and stop shaking her hand like that. You’re gonna snap her whole arm off.”
Finally, Joshua released his grip, and your arm fell back to your side like a limp noodle. His cheeks were starting to turn pink.
“I was not. Anyways—” he nodded at you, “like I said, nice to meet you. I hope we’ll talk more tonight and I’ll pick your brain.”
“Sure thing,” you answered, waving the boy off as he returned to the dinner table before facing Jeonghan. “He seems nice.”
“And totally into you. I haven’t seen him shake someone’s hand like that since I introduced him to Elouise from France. He’s gonna turn into a lost puppy all over again. Bet he’ll try to sweet talk you later.”
“Can’t wait.” You grinned, already giggling through your teeth.
Jeonghan c0nsquently thwapped your forehead with his finger.
However, meeting Jeonghan’s parents was starkly different than the good-humoured Joshua. They both appeared cross, and firm, and before you had even shaken their hands you were forced to wipe yours against your dress. The father was a bit softer around the edges, showing you a pleased smile that reminded you instantaneously of Jeonghan, while the mother was stone-faced and seemed as though she hadn’t slouched since birth. Even when she complimented your fragrance, there was a tartness to her voice which made it sound disingenuous.
“Well, Jeonghan,” she said, clasping her hands together, “I’m glad to finally see you with a lovely lady on your arm. I didn’t think it was possible that you could settle for someone after being with Baejin.”
“Oh?” The father piped up, “you’re my son’s girlfriend?”
Before you could respond, Jeonghan had beaten you to it.
“No, she’s…” he bit his lip hard, “she’s just a friend. Mom kept nagging that I always come to these dinners alone, and she was down.”
For some reason, it felt like someone had pierced a pin straight through your heart – a very tiny hole which shouldn’t hurt all that much, yet stung like flesh to orange, glowing metal. In fact, there was a visible shift in your countenance, from a nervous smile to a sunken frown, but you were able to veil it very quickly and pretend nothing was wrong. Why should you feel so disappointed that Jeonghan had introduced you as a friend? The promiscuous nature of your relationship didn’t immediately loop you two together as soulmates, or lovers, or even the mildest beginnings of boyfriend and girlfriend. You tried to refocus yourself.
Jeonghan’s mother nodded. “Even if she isn’t your next Baejin, it’s nice to meet a new face. The dinner talk might bore you no doubt.”
“No, not at all—” you forced a smile, “I’m just excited to be here.”
It was easier to endure the night than you thought, because true to Jeonghan’s word, the conversation was a bunch of business lingo that you didn’t exactly understand, with the occasional question flitted to you by Joshua who sat across the table. You had completely emptied your glass of ice water, and were halfway through your wine when two fancy, tuxedoed servers stopped by the table to collect everyone’s dishes. A distant relative was seated to Jeonghan’s right, and they had swept him into a discussion of whether or not he was interested in pursuing his current degree or if he would abandon it to work fulltime for his father’s brand. Meanwhile, Joshua had whisper-shouted your name.
You raised an eyebrow, “what?”
“Are you getting dessert?” The blonde asked, already shoving a small, plastic menu to his face. “I can’t decide what I want.”
“I guess so,” you picked up an extra menu sitting by a purple wine bottle and started to browse the list of decadent food.
Joshua sighed, “I usually get the cheesecake… but, I’m torn. What if I want the caramel apple baked pudding with black truffles?”
“The caramel apple baked what?” You questioned, laughing from the absolute mouthful that Joshua just worded so effortlessly.
“I know, I know. It’s a jumble. But my family and I come here all the time so I’ve gotten these names down pat. What are you thinking?”
“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never been here before, actually.”
His eyes, glistering and delighted, locked with yours. “Can I recommend you something, then?” Joshua said while smiling. “Red velvet cake. It’s right at the bottom. Not to mention the slice is huge so there’s always leftovers for the next day. It’s a favourite here.”
The relative responsible for dragging Jeonghan into another trite conversation concerning his future had excused themselves from the table. He was finally able to return his attention to you, and you slid over the dessert menu so he could pick something. You noted that Jeonghan’s hand had fallen onto your thigh, right at the hem of your dress, and you could only surmise that trouble was brewing. Joshua took a sip from his water glass, then settled it back on the table while subtly eyeing you.
“So, I’ve never seen you around before. Are you in school?”
You tapped your nails against the white table cloth, shaking your head, “no—I had to drop my program. It just wasn’t what I thought it would be and, well, I took a huge hit financially. So, no school.”
“Not everything is going to be a bullseye,” Joshua said, “I’m sure there’ll be more opportunity down the road. This other friend of mine, his name is Mingyu, he does this thing called the Love Café—” the boy then gestured to Jeonghan, “and I know he’s done it once before. Have you heard of it? Maybe it’s not up your alley, but I hear it’s good money.”
The suggestion had quite visibly stunned you. It seemed that Jeonghan was intent to keep the foundation of your relationship as covert as possible, which prompted his ‘friends’ comment before dinner, therefore you had no choice but to follow the rouse, even if the boy was currently sliding his hand further up the inside of your thigh, pushing inch by inch under your dress. Jeonghan didn’t contribute a single word.
“Um, the name sounds familiar. I’ll have to look it up.” You then glanced at him, hanging his head over the menu like a child who forgot their glasses, probably hiding some million-watt smirk.
“Are you having dessert?” Joshua asked his friend.
Jeonghan sat up straight, nodding, “I am.”
“The red velvet cake?”
“Vanilla ice cream. The one that comes on the skillet.”
“Oh, that one’s seriously good,” Joshua groaned, “ask them to put a chocolate chip cookie on the side. It gets all warm and—”
“Joshua,” the young lady beside him, probably in her late twenties, with petal-shaped, twinkling eyes similar to his and ice-like smooth skin, suddenly wrapped her hand around his arm, “can you come outside with me for a few minutes? I think I left my wallet in the car.”
He pushed out his chair. “Sure thing—guys, I’ll be back in a few. I need to help my cousin. If the waiter comes, order for me please.”
While you might have promised Joshua to follow through on his unnecessarily complicated apple pudding, such thoughts were quick to be discarded the moment he’d left the table, as Jeonghan had given you much more to think about. The boy’s hand was wedged between the apex of your thighs with two fingers pressed flat against your underwear. You felt heat, and the faintest burning of pleasure, one that yearned for you to start a gentle undulation against his hand because your unruly body was already eager for stimulation. Jeonghan picked up his wine glass.
“What are you doing?” You tried to shelter the whisper from the table’s guests, hoping the business speech was too engrossing.
As laid back as an ironing board, Jeonghan took a long gulp from his drink, swishing the wine from cheek to cheek before he swallowed. He set the wide-rimmed glass back down and wiped his mouth.
“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’” He said, raising an eyebrow at you as though you’d conjured a make-believe tale. However, the instant he started to slide up his index finger so it could push firmly against your clit, a smirk penetrated that complacent expression.
You grabbed his wrist, stared him dead in those honey-brown eyes. “Are you insane?” the whisper was harsh, “we’re in public.”
He tilted his head indifferently. “What’s your point, love? I get to play with your pussy whenever I want. It’s mine now. Remember?”
The dirty-mouthed comment split a fire beneath your cheeks like a flint cracking steel. Not only that, but Jeonghan studied each minor contort of your face as he slipped two digits beneath your underwear, brushing his fingertips ever so softly around your sensitive clit. You gulped, dry and gritty, hating that your thighs were starting to spread.
“Jeonghan!” A voice called his name from down the table.
Fear gripped your poor heart like latex glove. It was an older relative, asking him to pass down the remaining bottle full of wine.
“Oh, such a nice boy!” She chirped.
You nearly gawked at the remark considering the immoral placement of his hand and what he was doing. On the contrary – as much as you wanted to be embarrassed for allowing Jeonghan to touch you in public viewing– he knew his talents much too well, and the manner in which he used your own arousal to lubricate the massaging motion of his finger to your clit was an astounding bliss. Your legs fell wider apart, inviting him to explore a more rigorous touch, and that’s when Jeonghan curled his two fingers inside of you until his knuckles couldn’t fit.
Before your pinched expression could be caught by anyone at the table, you looked straight down at your lap, watching his wrist work beneath the navy-blue fabric. In fact, very faintly, you could hear the squelch from his digits pumping deep and slow into your warmth. Your bottom lip was quivering as he drew them out, now running the long length of his fingers upward to graze beneath the hood of your clit. He repeated a stroking gesture. It triggered the nerves to swell and pulse.
“I see Joshua walking back,” Jeonghan murmured, an arrogance thick in his voice, “and you don’t want him to find out about this, do you? Or, maybe I’m wrong.” He slid his entire hand beneath your underwear and cupped your centre, squeezing like he owned it. “Maybe you want him to know you’re such a whore of a girl that you’ll take my fingers anywhere. I mean, look at how much you’ve opened your legs, and I didn’t even ask you to. I love when you behave just for me, honey.”
Joshua collapsed back at the table with a huff, combing some snow flurries from his hair. “We found the wallet.” He said.
Yet, you couldn’t even bring yourself to face him. Jeonghan had spread your lips with his index and ring finger, using his middle digit to make rhythmic, deep circles around the bud. An erotic whine escaped your teeth and Joshua’s eyes widened; his face tinged with concern.
“Are you alright?” He questioned. “Did you get a Charlie horse?”
“N-No, I’m fine, really.” You composed yourself with a weak smile, and took a sip from your wine. “I got one of those rib pains.”
The blonde boy winced. “Ouch, those hurt big time.”
Honestly, you didn’t think it was possible to endure dessert without revealing to some degree that you were being, well, stretched open by Jeonghan. It was sheer torture staring at the waiter while he took your order, knowing the boy was lazily pumping his fingers inside you with a half-smirk seated so comfortably to his face. When that huge, delicious slice of cream red velvet cake was placed before you on the table, you could only fork a few pathetic bites, and when Joshua offered you to try a spoonful from his warm apple pudding, you nearly squealed the word no as Jeonghan rolled your sore clit between his fingertips. The most egregious aspect to the entire daubable was that the boy stripped your orgasm from you at the very last second, like stopping a rollercoaster just before it tips over the downhill plummet.
“How was the ice cream?” Joshua asked him innocently.
You observed with horror as Jeonghan brought that sinful hand to his mouth, lapping his tongue against his two fingertips as though he were actually savouring a sweet and flavourful vanilla.
“Delicious.” He grinned, catching your mortified stupor from the corner of his eye. “I’d taste it again in a heartbeat, Shua.”
Dropping the slice of bread into a shallow bowl, you used the spatula to submerge it underneath the milk, egg and cinnamon mixture until it was completely coated. Then, you slid the bread onto your buttered frying pan to let its surfaces crisp and brown. Since you began utilizing the service granted by the Love Café, life at your depressing excuse for an apartment was becoming more bearable, though your ultimate goal would be to ditch the paper-thin walls and insult-spewing neighbours once money was no longer a prevalent issue. You were still insistent on supporting yourself too, if you could ever score a job.
You flipped the bread onto its opposite face, pressing it down with the spatula as the pan sizzled and the butter popped. A few days had passed since your last intimacy with Jeonghan, and the proof would have been stamped to your Love Card if the boy had actually written his initials like usual. The thing was, Jeonghan – who had always been so firm and unwavering on the rules of the café – was now skirting about the regulations as though they were optional. There were days when he didn’t even initial the card, but still delivered his transactions. In fact, you were almost positive that sex had happened more than twelve times and that you could be renewing your card if wanted (you didn’t).
As silly and cliché as it sounded, you liked Jeonghan. You constantly thought about him and missed him and wondered what he was doing while you were trapped in bed listening to another argument between your spiteful neighbours. There was always a deep, electric pounding in your chest upon weaving the tips of your fingers along his skin, touching him, exploring him. Yet, when he held you close, tucked your body tight against his like there was nothing surrounding you but ice, comfort found a home in your belly like a warm, homecooked meal.
After spilling some icing sugar and strawberries across the toast, now fried a delicious shade of golden-brown, you took a seat at the counter and dug in. There had been an occasion where Jeonghan brought you breakfast after warping your legs into complete gelatine (you had no idea that kitchen table sex could be so fiery and passionate), which proved to be a pleasant morning, where you could still feel the softness of his thumb as he kindly brushed some whipped cream from your bottom lip. You sighed, sticking a strawberry into your mouth. How foolish it might be to fall this far and this devotedly for someone like him.
But you didn’t want to stop yourself.
In fact, you reached for your phone across the counter, swiped into your messages, and decided to be bold. You texted him.
[ 9:29 AM ]: Hey! I know that I’m not supposed to send you anything unrelated to our business lol, but
[9:29 AM ]: Just wondering if you’re available to grab a coffee with me or something along those lines?
Setting the phone down and turning it over so you wouldn’t be tempted to helplessly wait for a notification, you continued eating. After scraping the last few pieces of toast and syrup around the plate, there was a vibration and a quick, ding! Strangely, you were starting to sweat.
[ Jeonghan | 9:34 AM ]: Sorry. In a lecture rn.
Of course, your surge of bravery immediately dehydrated, and you decided it was best to pretend that you hadn’t asked him anything at all – for your confidence’s sake. The next two hours were spent cleaning the kitchen, taking a short walk outside the complex to feel the Northern air refresh your face, and finally, a long bath, in which you nearly fell asleep and drowned as the steam lulled your eyes shut. While wrapping your body snug in that new, hot pink bath towel, you heard a knock at the door. You assumed it was the painter who occupied the room directly below yours, as you had borrowed his vacuum the night before, though you weren’t exactly raving at the thought of answering him in a towel.
However, by squinting through the fisheye lens, you were shocked (and greatly relieved) to discover that it wasn’t the middle-aged painter dressed in his splattered, dirty overalls, but Jeonghan.
And he was holding a drink.
You unlocked the door.
“Uh, hello after all. What are you doing here?”
He smiled at you and held up the cardboard cup, “my lecture ended, and I thought I’d do you a solid. Couldn’t remember if it was two sugars-one cream, or two creams-one sugar. So I tossed a coin.”
“What exactly was the result?” You giggled.
“Heads,” Jeonghan answered, “two sugars-one cream it is.”
“You’re lucky that’s correct.”
Accepting the warm cup from his hand, you set it carefully on the kitchen counter. When you returned to the door, Jeonghan was evidently ogling you. He really suited the image of a casual university student when he wasn’t dressed to gems and jewels in his sumptuous clothing.
“I knew the hot pink towel would look good on you.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not dropping it, so forget it.”
“Whoa,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “I didn’t ask you to drop it, sweetheart. I’d rather you not actually, with this door wide open and everything.”
“Did I really just hear that from you, Mr, Dinner Table?” Folding your arms, you stared him down with an accusing expression.
He held up one finger in defense. “First of all, that was under the table, so unless someone bumped their fork or something, then we were pretty much safe. This is you dropping your whole towel right in the doorway like there isn’t a weirdo probably peeping you across the hall as we speak. And I’m not letting anyone look at you like that, ever.”
“Fine,” you sighed, hoping he couldn’t spot the flustered heart pumping your chest beneath the towel, “you’ve made your point.”
Jeonghan checked his silver wrist watch, “fuck. I gotta get going, need to be at the studio so I can be a taper dummy again.”
“Oh, okay,” you nodded, “talk to y—”
Suddenly, the boy was cupping each side of your face in his hands, and his lips pressed soft but quick to your forehead. Jeonghan then pinched your thigh under the towel, a gesture which felt oddly endearing rather than sexual, before he left the corridor.
“Later!” He’d called.
Shutting the door, you returned to your seat at the counter, holding the coffee cup up to your mouth as you took a small, nervous sip.
How could you let yourself fall this easily for him?
Jeonghan’s washroom was somehow nicer than your entire apartment, and you were fairly certain that your eyes had never seen so much white-grey marble, all squeaky-clean and aglow with lights. He’d shot you a text roughly an hour ago, right after he was released from the painful effort required to keep Joshua’s peewee soccer players in check, wondering if you were available to come over. Of course, the innocence to the term ‘come over’ was nothing more than a euphemism, a means of sugar coating what Jeonghan actually intended: to be inside you no doubt. And since the boy was so drained and unwilling to instigate any work himself, Jeonghan decided that a steaming, hot bath should do.
Well – a bath which involved you seated on his dick. The tub was dark grey tile, square-shaped, and practically the size of a small jacuzzi. It even had a bench to sit on. While it had been difficult at first to simply cockwarm the boy – when all you could feel was how deeply he spearheaded into your sensitive spot and how this shock would ripple from your abdomen at even his gentlest movement– you knew he wasn’t looking to make things quick and temporary. Therefore, you settled into his lap, wrapping your arms around Jeonghan’s neck while his circled your waist beneath the water. Both of you were starting to fall asleep.
“Jeonghan,” you whispered, lifting your head from his shoulder, only to remember that you were indeed naked and this heat lapping around you was definitely not a blanket, “can I tell you something?”
With his eyes still shut, he nodded, his fingers digging appreciatively at your hips. “Of course you can, baby.” He replied, his voice sounding deeper than usual as he orientated on the edges of sleep.
Smiling, you combed through the damp hairs at his nape, your voice reverberating like a musical instrument off the marble. “Remember the salon place? They called me two days ago, said they had an opening for me and that I could start next Monday. I… I wanted to text you about it, like, as soon as it happened. But I wasn’t sure if I should.”
“What? Really?” Jeonghan was staring at you now, his head straightened from its leisurely position against the edge of the tub and cocked with interest. The fact he seemed so intrigued, that you could read the genuine excitement building up in those brown eyes, had almost made you happier than the salon’s phone call. “Congratulations!” He leaned forward to kiss you, pecking your lips chastely the first time, and then slower come the second, his hands squeezing your thighs.
After a tiny laugh, you sighed contentedly. “Thank you. It’s going to be so nice having my own cashflow and everything. And if I can work my way up and become like, a kickass hair stylist? Can you imagine?”
“Should I grow my hair out more so you can practice cutting it? You’ve got a steady hand, don’t you?” Jeonghan asked, mostly teasing, as you could imagine his parents harping him during his next session at Opal Studio if he looked as though he’d ran through some hedge clippers.
Returning the affection, you kissed the rosy tip of his nose. “I think my hands are pretty steady. We’ll find out I guess, and we’ll know for sure if a huge chunk of your hair falls to the floor.”
Your laughter immediately mingled, and you hid your smile against the boy’s neck, a very moonstruck, loopy smile which felt like riding a blazing comet between the stars. If you were legitimately able to climb higher amongst the business, then you could picture a life in which you didn’t need to lean on Jeonghan and the Love Café for financial support. In fact, there were moments where you felt rather dirty using his money even when he was completely insistent on such matters, like buying food and paying off bills. You held tight to a certain hope, that you could become independent again, and maybe, just maybe, be able to keep this beautiful boy whom you once thought would hate you.
His fingers tapped up your spine, urging you to face him.
“Seriously,” Jeonghan said, “I’m happy for you.”
“I know,” you answered, so quietly he could hardly hear it.
And then, you decided to kiss Jeonghan, placing your damp hand upon his cheek while your mouths slotted together. The contact had lost its grace almost instantly, and the kiss turned from a sweet gesture to a sensuality so thick you could feel it swelter the air and pool between your legs. He offered his tongue for you to suckle by sliding it smoothly into your mouth, and from there, Jeonghan’s intended relaxation had vanished. His hands grazed to the front of your body, reaching up and sliding back and forth over each breast. It wasn’t until Jeonghan began massaging his thumbs in circular motions around your nipples that you moaned into his mouth, a sound which flicked a smirk to his face.
Once his lips were shiny and slick with your saliva, he moved each kiss down the side of your neck, now pinching at your nipples, even twisting gently and making sure to ease the dull throb by rubbing them afterward. It was becoming unbearable. You needed to move. However, the second you started a rhythm in Jeonghan’s lap, he shook his head.
“Be still,” he told you, lightly gripping your chin.
The desperation in your whine was horribly apparent, almost soaking each word. “No Jeonghan, I-I can’t do that anymore—” ignoring him, you continued to grind your hips and move the water around you, feeling his engorged head tick against that one spot of insane pleasure, “I need t’cum now, all over your cock.” With every bounce in his lap, you begged, “please, please, please.” This prompted Jeonghan to grab your waist much tighter than usual and slam you down, holding you still.
“No, not like that,” he grunted, and you wondered if his control was simply otherworldly or if he was just that talented at hiding how good he felt. “I’ll make you cum, sweetheart,” Jeonghan nodded, “but you can’t move. I just want you to sit there, all the way down.”
He then leaned in close to your face, nearly pressing his forehead to yours, and that’s when you felt his thumb brush with a featherlight, fleeting touch across your clit. The sudden stimulation jerked your body. Jeonghan bit his lip and grinned while continuing the sensitive touch, the pressure becoming heavier with each minute that passed. Your thighs started to tremble, and your moans were echoing around the washroom.
The honeyed dirty talk crawled up Jeonghan’s throat. “You’re such a cute little cocksleeve, sweetheart,” he purred, titling his head as he rubbed his thumb faster, “oh, look at you, baby. Shaking and crying and taking it like it’s the only thing you’re good for—” a messy kiss to calm you down, thin strings of saliva hanging in the air each time your mouths separated, “I bet you’re gonna cum for me soon, right?” The boy encouraged, keeping his forehead flush to yours so he could observe with utmost clarity the beautiful contortions of your face. “I know you are, sweetheart. Because it feels so good, right?” You nodded frantically, digging your fingers into his neck like a cat sinking in its claws. Jeonghan’s thumb pushed beneath the hood of your clit, directly massaging the soft bud, and the pleasure inside you leapt to a new high which made you dumbly lose all sense.
“Cum.” Jeonghan commanded so gently, his gaze burning against your eyes, squeezed shut. At the straightforward word, you allowed the sensation to swallow you like a current, and the hot, teary cry you mewled had been quickly snuffed as the boy pushed his lips to yours.
“Can feel you clenching so fucking tight around my cock,” he chuckled, digging his nose into your hair and speaking warmly beside your ear, “and how much you’re throbbing right under my thumb. Must feel so good, sweetheart, cumming all over me like such a good girl.”
You slumped against him, overwhelmed, emptied, and breathing so heavy that you were afraid the oxygen might dwindle completely from your lungs. The fact Jeonghan could remain so composed while buried to the hilt in your heat was something else that frightened you, though, in the moment, you preferred not to think about it, instead concentrating on the distant sensation of Jeonghan drawing galactic shapes to each your shoulder blades.
Hopefully, he’d let you stay the night.
Once you started the receptionist job at the hair salon, you had bumped into Joshua on a Friday evening. While his platinum blonde look was indeed enchanting and princely, he complained that it was difficult to maintain the roots, and that he often found himself back in the stylist’s chair for a touch up. He’d come in on a whim. Luckily – due to the late hour – there was an open seat, and Joshua puffed a great sigh of relief as he hooked his jacket onto the salon coat hanger. Curious if there was more behind the reason to his abrupt appearance, you conversed with him while he waited for the stylist to tidy up her work area.
That’s when Joshua informed you of the Opal’s Galleria Night, a fashion exhibition which would display Mr. Yoon’s newest edition for his upcoming Spring line. Joshua seemed surprised that you hadn’t known about the Galleria, or, that Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned it to you. Oddly enough, Jeonghan had been radio silent the past three days; not a phone call, or a voice memo, or even a text. Yesterday you had hoped to catch him stuck in the books at the library, but the area where he usually sat was occupied by a study group of freshman. It concerned you a little.
An ungraceful quickie in the washroom after his three-hour lecture ended on Tuesday was your last encounter. Not to mention, there was only one more opening left on your Love Card.
“He didn’t say anything,” you told Joshua, pretending to act indifferent “so… I don’t think he wants me there. It’s not a big deal.”
Yet, that’s not how you truly felt. There had to be some reason for the boy’s keeping you in the dark. Did he not want to explain the ‘friends’ trope to all the Galleria members, like at the dinner? Or, was he thinking that you wouldn’t be interested? It wasn’t easy to seem unphased.
“Jeonghan doesn’t need to invite you,” Joshua had said, “cause I’ll invite you myself. Mr. Yoon said it was more than fine if I brought someone along. So, why not you? It’ll make the night more fun.”
At first, you vehemently rejected the invite, no matter how sweetly Joshua attempted to rope you into a night of free perfume samples, delicious catering food and a chocolate fountain perfect for dipping strawberries. However, when the hair stylist pulled Joshua away to fix his darkening roots, you had much time to mull over the offer, and even the fact you felt poignant about dismissing it. As you tapped a pen against the desk, staring out the window into the grey, dulling sky, you convinced yourself there could be no harm in attending the Opal’s Galleria Night. Besides, you and Jeonghan weren’t cast in stone. He probably wouldn’t bat any eyelash anyways, knowing his eased nature.
And so, you caught Joshua just before he left.
You told him you’d changed your mind.
When Jeonghan first saw you at the Opal Galleria, it was from across the ballroom that had been temporarily converted into an exhibition space, stood next to a mannequin draped in a cherub-pink slip dress. Almost comically, he gagged on some sparkling champagne held in a thin and tall glass, though he recovered smoothly as to not interrupt the conversation his father was sharing with the dense crowd. You waved at him, not too noticeably of course, but he either didn’t catch it or had decided to ignore the gesture. Shrugging, you tried not to overthink it.
Mannequins were lined up along both sides of the ballroom, adorned in the mild tones baring semblance to Spring, with the blips of baby blues, clementine oranges, and cream violets transforming the Galleria into an acrylic painting. Jeonghan’s mother took the opportunity to offer some spritzes from her most recent line, which had both you and Joshua smelling like a tulip garden. While exploring the room with the blonde boy, you stopped to examine a mannequin dressed in a relaxed, high-waisted pant and a lace camisole that seemed breezy and flowing. This collection was definitely tamer compared to the usual extravagance you had always seen through the store windows and in magazines.
“Would you wear it?” Joshua asked, chewing on a strawberry that he might as well have plucked from thin air.
Tilting your head and squinting, you took a moment to contemplate. “If it was my size I might, if I could find a price hanging off somewhere. But I don’t want to even touch it. Mannequins are weird.”
“No prices are usually displayed at the Gallerias,” Joshua informed you, “though, I will agree. It’s probably a Toy Story thing where they all start moving at night when no one’s here. Spooky, huh?”
You sighed at him, “thanks for the nightmare material.”
Suddenly, there was a tap to your bare shoulder, and you nearly yelped like a cat with a stepped-on tail as Joshua laughed between bites from his juicy strawberry. Turning around, you were met with Jeonghan, who had this flat-lined, unenthusiastic smile hardly touching the corners of his mouth. He looked rather agitated in fact, and you felt cold inside.
“Hey!” Joshua exclaimed, punching his friend’s arm. “Finally escape your dad’s novella-length speech on the pink slip?”
The crowd once gathered around the mannequin had started to disperse, with the visitors now exploring the rest of the outfits.
Jeonghan hardly payed any mind to his friend, throwing out an impatient, “yeah, it was whatever,” before he began questioning you. He started with a rather inhospitable, “why are you here?”
“I invited her,” Joshua announced, “since I ran into her at that salon place. I thought it would be nice and everything. The Gallerias can get pretty stiff if you come alone. Plus, there’s chocolate fountains.”
He appeared nettled, like he’d woken up and spilled coffee on his favourite shirt. You couldn’t place the exact emotion, nor could you identify the reason behind Jeonghan acting as though there were one-hundred choice words waiting to zap off the tip of his tongue. For an instant, you wondered if it would be worthwhile to question him, though there was a shout of the boy’s name and you spotted his parents beckoning him over from across the exhibition. Jeonghan merely rolled his eyes, disappearing just as quickly as he’d arrived to accompany them.
You folded your arms concerningly. “Do you know if something’s wrong? I haven’t seen him like that before.”
Joshua dropped the rest of the strawberry into his mouth. “He’s probably stressing over something. I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s not really one to blow up or get all in your face. I’ll talk to him later.”
Seeing as there were others who wanted to examine the camisole mannequin, you and Joshua seated yourselves at a tiny table right beside the chocolate fountain and catering foods. Though, you were unable to quell the curiosity at what Jeonghan was needed for, prompting your eyes to wander as unnaturally as possible in his direction. He’d just pulled a young woman into a hug, and she was positively gorgeous, dressed in a silk-fabric dress, form fitting and ruby red, with an elegant slit parting up to her right thigh. Her ponytail was slicked shiny as though her hair had been styled professionally, and she flaunted a dreamy smile that reminded you of a vintage female heroine.
And then, like a slap to the face, you realized she must be the woman whom Jeonghan’s parents seemed to be obsessed over.
Baejin, his ex-girlfriend.
She mentioned something into his ear, and they became giggly, the two pulling in again for another short hug. Jeonghan’s father gestured back to the pink slip mannequin, and the four walked over to discuss it for the umpteenth time. You wondered if she was going to be modeling some of the clothing. The assumption felt correct as Baejin touched the dress’ delicate fabric and the beaded, glimmering string tied around the tiny waist. Quickly, Jeonghan fetched the girl a champagne glass, the two drinking together while the father appeared to be entering another in-depth explanation. And, perhaps dignifiedly so, you were feeling mislead and upset. You speculated if this could be the reason for him to keep the Opal Galleria a secret – Jeonghan didn’t want you to catch even a glimpse of him reuniting with Baejin.
They hardly portrayed two ex’s who were now settled on different chapters to their lives. The longer you stared, the angrier, yet, more confused you felt. As you thought before, the odd relationship between you and Jeonghan was not set in stone, and it certainly didn’t ignite with the intention of actual love taking a blossom to your doorstep. It could be that you were jumping to conclusions, misreading things, or disillusioned by your tendency to wishfully think. Nonetheless, the sight still hurt.
Joshua bumped your elbow.
“Are you hungry at all? The scent from the catering tables is getting to me. I can grab a plate for you, if you want.”
With a sigh and a fragile smile, you shook your head. “No, I’ll come with you. Besides, you don’t know what I like anyways.”
“Fair enough.” Joshua agreed.
He stuck out his hand for you to take while rising from the chair.
Grabbing a small plate, you started at the end of the catering table and began making your way down, using the plastic tongs to serve yourself some spring rolls. Joshua filed after you, instead taking a bowl and scooping up some of the fresh zucchini pasta. Admittedly, you had lost your appetite after watching Jeonghan act so cordially with Baejin, though you were determined to not let the plight sour the otherwise enjoyable night you were having with Joshua. Once you reached the chocolate fountain, you swore a sparkle jumped into his eye.
“Why are you so obsessed with the fountain?” You had tried not to laugh as you asked the question.
The blonde boy looked aghast. “Because, it’s beautiful!” He picked up a strawberry arranged neatly around the base, dipping the edge briefly beneath the chocolate. “I mean, how can they make it so delicious and velvety? When I came to my first Galleria, I spent like, half my night just standing by the fountain, eating the fruit.”
You couldn’t help but think Joshua was adorable, and you grinned at him, “well, maybe I don’t have as much of a sweet tooth.”
“Just shush up and try this.”
He held out the strawberry, inviting you for a taste. At first, you paused, wondering if there was some flirtatious intention behind the gesture or if Joshua was just being his overtly kind self. And then, you held onto his wrist and took a bite from the strawberry, the warmth of the melted chocolate satin-smooth against your tongue.
Wiping the edge of your mouth, you nodded. “It is pretty tasty, actually. Let me try dipping it. You make it look weirdly fun.”
After setting down the catering plate, you took Joshua’s strawberry while he picked up a new one. Together, you pushed your fruits beneath the streaming chocolate, twisting it at the green leaf to fully coat the sides. So it wouldn’t drip, you immediately took a huge bite with a hand placed just below your mouth, humming contentedly.
“Okay,” you mumbled, still chewing, “I can see why you like this so much. I think I could get addicted to chocolate strawberry dipping.”
“Me too,” Joshua chuckled, “oh! Look, there’s whipped cream here and I didn’t even see it!” He set down his plate beside yours and grabbed the bottle like an eager little child. Popping off the cap, Joshua shook the can and pressed his fingertip against the nozzle, spraying a white-frosted peak onto the top of another strawberry. You copied him, though you had accidently sprayed too much. Once you licked the cream off your finger, you poked the entire fruit into your mouth like a funfetti-sized cupcake. For some reason, Joshua started giggling at you.
“What?” You glared at him playfully. “What’s wrong?”
Rosy tinges flushed to the arch of Joshua’s cheeks. “Uhm… Well, l-let me just—” he stuttered, cupping his hand gently to your face, his thumb brushing at a spot right below your bottom lip. “You had some whipped cream on your… chin slash lip. Sorry about that.”
“O-Oh, it’s okay.” You were stumbling yourself, tongue darting out instinctively to ensure there wasn’t anything still there.
At random, you felt this prickle tiptoe up the back of your neck, a sensation that was hardly perceptible yet singeing enough for you to notice it. Gulping, you peered toward that faceless mannequin draped in its pink slip dress, toward Jeonghan, Baejin, and his parents who were enthralled in a conversation with her. Jeonghan was glaring so blatantly at Joshua that you’d forgotten how to speak, and you couldn’t even pronounce a single word of warning as the boy started storming his way across the ballroom.
His grip was on your elbow like a viper’s teeth.
“Geez, where’d you come from?” Joshua said, though he was able to note the tension this time, and Jeonghan’s surly behaviour.
“I need to talk to you,” Jeonghan murmured by your ear, ignoring Joshua yet again, “in the hall just outside the exhibition.”
You didn’t want to agree. Strangely enough, you felt this urge balloon inside you, an urge to cause a gigantic scene with screaming and thick tears and unnecessary curses, because as much as you wanted to dismiss your anger, there were jealous, wronged feelings inside, on fire and itching to escape from your gut. Miraculously, you held your composure, and announced to Joshua that you’d talk to him later.
Jeonghan then tore you into the empty hallway.
It was like a lightning bolt, how quickly he exploded.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jeonghan ranted, pacing back and forth as the distant echo of music bled through the wall. “Seriously, I don’t text you back for like, three days, and you’re already going on a date with my best friend—” he softened his voice in a purposefully mocking way, “letting him get all delicate with you, feeding you all lovey-dovey style and wiping that cream off your lip. Did you think I wouldn’t see it?”
“Excuse me?” Your brow instantly creased like a folded map, and you felt an intense ache hit the front of your skull. “Um, you’re one to talk! How come you didn’t tell me about the Galleria? Because you didn’t want me to see you with your arm around your ex’s waist? Because you don’t think I’m good enough to show off to your parents?”
Jeonghan gawked at you. “Baejin? For real? You think I’ve been secretly dating her behind your back or something?”
“How am I supposed to know?” You barked, tucking your arms defensively across the chest. And, while it might have been too early into the argument to pit such a statement, you had already started bubbling, and you knew there was nothing to snuff your fire. “Besides, you hardly ever get back to me apart from when you want to fuck!”
At that, the boy was momentarily stumped. What sounded like a rebuttal fizzled at the back of his throat, though it faded away. The silence worried you, because it echoed a confirmation that Jeonghan might’ve actually never seen as you as anything more than an outlet to alleviate his carnality. That, once the Love Café ordeal was finally over with, he could forget you had ever existed like erasing a mistake of smudged lead. The thought made you glassy-eyed and thus, terribly vulnerable. However, you also craved the truth to your relationship.
“Just admit it,” you beseeched him, “admit that you want me only for sex and nothing else. Is that why you didn’t bring up the Galleria? Because you think it’s easier to shove me in the dark when it’s convenient for you? Is that why you were acting so mad?”
He skimmed a hand exasperatedly through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not dating Baejin behind your back, I have never once thought you weren’t good enough to show off to my parents, and I didn’t purposefully hide the Galleria from you.”
“Right,” you scoffed, “but you’re fine with labelling me as a friend and pretending like we don’t hook up every week.”
“It’s…” he clenched his teeth and growled in frustration, “it’s complicated, alright? Can’t you just accept that?”
“Complicated?” A shudder coursed down your spine at having to repeat the boy, and the tears sprung from your eyes with such a sharp sting that it became impossible to hold them back. You felt each drop, cold and runny, drip along your face. “That’s the word you’re going to use? You’re going to look straight at me, after the entire span of our relationship since the Love Café, and tell me we’re summed up best as complicated?” Again, the word struck you like a stiff punch. If he was going to regard your connection so trivially, then you didn’t care whether or not he knew the verity of your heart. Like it would affect him anyways.
“I would’ve said we were in love,” you shrugged, watching his expression drop in a mere instant, “but—sure, let’s call it complicated.”
And, with the tears shining like salt stars on your face, you stalked out the building into the softening winter weather.
You didn’t know it could be so difficult to ignore someone, especially when you were supposed to hate them. The effect Jeonghan had on you was almost phantom-like; a constant lingering, even if the boy himself wasn’t palpable and poised right before your eyes.
It had been three days since the outburst at the Galleria. That night, you cried, and wept, and broke out the amber bottle stored beneath your sink which was only sipped from in occasions of complete misery – very well suited to the situation at hand. You had questioned calling the Love Café’s customer service desk to issue a termination of your card, and, at one point, you were standing drunkenly by the toilet contemplating your decision to rip up the red paper and flush it. Though, nothing ever came of either idea. Instead, you faceplanted onto your bed and allowed the intoxicated dizziness to fade black. The next morning, you were faced with multiple texts from Jeonghan, missed phone calls, voice notes. But you didn’t listen or respond to anything.
Complicated. That was the word you kept hearing.
Absolutely not, you had thought that morning, you weren’t ready to speak with him, even if the temptation seemed like it could be promising. The air was still too bitter. And you couldn’t handle another argument.
On the second day after the outburst, you were seated at the receptionist desk in the salon, flicking through a magazine while you became increasingly mindless to the humming of the blow dryer and the potent fragrance of the hair products. When you glanced out the window, you nearly combusted, as both Joshua and Jeonghan were about to enter the salon together, hurrying in from the melted snow and winter’s final downpour. You hid in the breakroom until they left, forcing your co-worker to take your position at the desk. Joshua was apparently getting his hair trimmed while Jeonghan had asked about you at the reception.
“He’s gorgeous!” Your co-worker had immediately gushed to you in the breakroom. “Why are you avoiding someone like that?”
“It’s complicated.” You’d phrased it simply.
Dang it. You hated the fact you’d used that stupid word.
But, on the third day, most of your bitterness was gone.
After breakfast, you were back at the vanity mirror to prepare for work, and while you buffed some makeup to sit seamlessly on the skin with your puffy foundation brush, there was a knock at your door. This time, you didn’t bother peeping through the fisheye lens, because you knew exactly who it was – damn his persistence. Jeonghan’s brown hair had been slightly mused in the wind, and there was a glow as soft as a peach to each his cheeks. But that easygoing, relaxed smile was by far the most heart fluttering. He extended a coffee cup to you. When you reached out, Jeonghan suddenly pulled the coffee away with a tsking sound.
“You can have it only if—” he held up his finger, “you agree to let me in so I can explain myself. Yes, I’m bribing you. And yes, I’m an asshole from time to time. But five minutes at least. That’s all I need.”
For a moment, you wavered, only to mutter a resounding, “fine.”
Despite Jeonghan’s company, you still had work to get ready for, so the boy followed you into the bedroom. He took a seat on the edge of your mattress while you settled back into the vanity chair. Picking through your jar of makeup brushes, you plucked a round, oval-tipped one to apply your eyeshadow. Jeonghan was silent at first, watching you through the mirror as you hurried about the look. It wasn’t perfect, in fact it was a bit sloppy and rushed and there was already some fallout sitting like a glittered dust on your cheeks, though Jeonghan was staring at you with such fondness, you wondered if the mirror was reflecting the same image. Of course, the Love Card was sitting on your desk too.
“Well,” you spun around in the chair, pressing your lips together, “I’m waiting for you to explain, y’know. Like you said you would. Technically, you’ve lost a couple minutes, and I should really try to be at the salon early, but I’m still going to give you full time since—"
“I love you.”
“… What?”
“I love you,” Jeonghan repeated himself casually, a slow smile spilling from each corner of his mouth, “I’m in love with you, as deep as I could be, I think. Anyways, you want me to keep saying it? I love you.”
It felt like someone had taken a picture with the blinding glare of its flash, a picture you couldn’t be more unprepared for, the dots still dancing and fumbling across your vision. The moment was disorienting, but you experienced a very fulgurant warmth take shape inside you. It was comforting yet daunting, a sugar rush and a hangover, something so alive you knew you wanted it more than anything else in the world.
Yet, “you… are in love with me?” was all that you could express.
Jeonghan fiddled with the coffee cup in his hands. “You’re a funny girl, you know that? But I can say it a fifth time if you want.”
“N-No, I—I just, I wasn’t expecting—”
“Yeah, I can see that, “ he’d laughed, though it quickly fell into a sigh and suddenly Jeonghan’s temperament had shifted. “Look, I know that night wasn’t pretty. I know I ghosted you. I know I didn’t tell you about the stupid Galleria,” the boy glanced up, catching your eye, “but… I didn’t say anything because I was confused. I knew your Love Card only had one signature left, and just like that… you could be in my bed for the last time. If we’re really gonna get sentimental about it,”
Jeonghan chuckled, scratching his chin a bit shyly, “it could be my last time holding you, and kissing you… I just, I didn’t want it to be like that. But I didn’t know how to confront you about it, so I hid. And I stressed myself out, and I got so stupidly jealous and angry when I saw you with Joshua. That was my bad. I should’ve been upfront.”
Tucking your hands together anxiously in your lap, you nodded, beginning to understand the missing pieces.
“Thank you for saying that.” You murmured, tapping your feet in a nervous rhythm against the floor. “I… I was being unreasonable and jealous too,” you subsequently admitted, “I was assuming things about you and Baejin when I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what I was expecting anyways, that you act like she doesn’t exist? It was dumb, and I was adding pressure. I’m sorry too.” Wanting to lighten the tone, you smiled at him, “I guess we both have our flaws, huh?”
He returned the tender glance and held out the coffee cup.
“I guess we do.”
You grabbed it politely.
Turning around in the chair, you grabbed the bright red Love Card off the vanity, initialed until its last circle, “what should we do with this? I mean, we kind of messed up their rules, fooling around more than twelve times. And, well, I’m not gonna renew it.”
“Oh, let me see.” Jeonghan said.
As soon as you passed the card to him, he ripped it clean in half, crumpled each piece, balled them together in his hands and tossed the shreds into the trash can sat in the corner.
“Well, that was fucking easy,” he smiled, getting up from the mattress, “aren’t you late for work? Do you need a drive?”
You looked at your alarm clock.
“If you can get me there in the next ten minutes, that’d be great.”
Jeonghan headed to the front door while you hurriedly grabbed your coat from the closet and snatched your bag off the floor, resting the strap over your shoulder. With the coffee still in hand, you headed into the living area, looking around in one final swoop to make sure you had everything packed for the day. A sheet of sunlight spilt into the room from outside the window, pale, like the morning sky, yet filling every crevice of the cheap apartment with a dull shine. And for a very fleeting moment, you thought this place wasn’t so abhorrent. It had been your home, your stepping stone, a thumbprint which identified a period of hardship and growth. But, despite this bittersweet taste on your tongue, you couldn’t envision yourself staying.
“Come on,” Jeonghan pinched your hip, “at this rate I’ll get a speeding ticket trying to get you to work on time.”
Turning around, you stuck a kiss to the boy’s cheek, just catching the cool beginning of a smirk on that dazzling face of his as you interlaced your fingers and pulled him into the corridor.
No, you could not stay here.
Not when your future was with Jeonghan.
✧✎ a/n: yeah, so this was clearly A LOT longer than the original love café teehee. i remembered the plot vaguely therefore i refused to reread my first version weufhewif PLS IT MAKES ME CONVULSE SO BAD !! i just had to rewrite the plot and do it some actual justice! i hope this version is a lot better and that you rly enjoyed it! i wish yjh would give me money but i guess we can’t all live in a fantasy world!! thx for reading!!
#caratwritersclub#jeonghan scenarios#seventeen scenarios#svt fanfic#jeonghan fanfic#seventeen smut#jeonghan smut#seventeen jeonghan#svt smut#yoon jeonghan#svt x reader#jeonghan x reader
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Suspiciously Cheerful
Summary: Tommy falls for Charlie’s tutor/nanny
Warnings: angst, fluff, violence, Polly being protective yet difficult,
Reader: Male Reader
Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Male Reader
Word Count: 4730
A/n: A THOUSAND APOLOGIES!! IT HAS TAKEN ME FOREVER TO GET THIS REQUEST DONE AND I’M SO SORRY!! I really hope you enjoy it! @marilynmonroefanfics
Masterlist
"You're doing very well, Charlie," You praised the young boy as he repeated the Latin phrase back to you.
"Are we done? We've been at it for hours!" Charlie shouts dramatically. You couldn't help but to laugh at him. You had a few more things to do but with the nice weather and his puppy dog eyes you decided to leave the rest of the work for another day.
"Yes, we're done," You tell him. He shoot out of his seat, gives you a big hug before darting out of the room. You watch him run outside with a fond smile before cleaning the area up.
You've been Charlie's tutor for a few months now. The boy was shy for a few days but then really started to open up. You enjoyed working with him. You've worked with a lot of kids but Charlie was quickly becoming your favorite.
You almost had all your materials gathered when you noticed someone standing in the doorway. Your head snapped over and saw one of Charlie's relatives, Polly.
"Evening, Ms. Gray," You greeted, nodding your head politely. She simply stares at you casually smoking her cigarette. "Is there something I can help you with?"
Since Charlie's father, Tommy, hired you to help his son with his studies you've been getting to know the rest of the family. You got along with John and Ada the most. Tommy was your boss, you had a professional relationship with him that sometimes felt like something more. Polly and Arthur on the other hand were weary of you.
It was mainly Polly. You doubted there was a bone in her body that trusted you. Arthur was the only one to listen to her suspicious ramblings. John saw you as a good chap, a little strange, but refused to believe that you were dangerous.
Ada, however, saw you for exactly who you were. She hardly knew you yet she could read you so well that it intimidated you. She was kind but very observant.
You were relieved that Tommy didn't listen to Polly's rants. If he did then you were positive that you would have been out on the street months ago.
Polly's suspicion didn't really set in until Tommy gave you a room in his home so that you could help Charlie full time. Once you moved in you became a sort of nanny to the boy as well as a teacher.
You took the job because you were desperate for money and you enjoyed working with children. You took the room because you were one month away from getting kicked out of your apartment and being forced to live on the streets. Those were the true reasons behind why you did what you did but Polly thought there were deeper motives.
She thought you were bad news. She believed you were going to try to steal from the family whether that was stealing their secrets or their money. You didn't care about their secrets and only wanted enough money to have a comfortable living, which you earned looking after Charlie.
You weren't stupid. You knew exactly who your employer was and what kind of business his family ran. However, that's where your knowledge ended. You didn't know the specifics of anything and you didn't care to know. You were just fine with the way things were.
"Is there something I can do for you, ma'am?" You further questioned when she refused to talk. You shifted uncomfortably as she continued to stare at you.
"I know who you are, Y/n Y/l/n," Polly stated. "You come from a good family, a wealthy family," She says. "Yet you don't talk to them and you were practically living on the streets when Tommy decided to take you in,"
"Yes," You said, unsure on where she was going with this.
"Someone who has no money and is about to lose their apartment isn't as cheerful as you," Polly states.
"Well, I've been saving the money Tommy gives me and I have a roof over my head," You remind her. "I have every reason to be happy-"
"Yes, well you've been like this since before Tommy brought you in," Polly says. "You know who you work for, the people you willingly surround yourself with,"
"Yes," You tell her. "As you said, I had no money and was about to be homeless. I was desperate. I don't care about your business or Tommy's business. I just care about taking care of Charlie and making sure he gets an education. He's a bright boy,"
"It's Mr. Shelby to you," Polly states. "Thomas is your employer not your friend. Be sure to remember that," She says before leaving.
"Yes, ma'am," You mutter to yourself.
You understood Polly being cautious around you but you didn't know how to prove to her that you weren't an enemy. You didn't have ulterior motives. You just wanted to look after Charlie and have a bed to sleep on.
****
"Charlie get back here!" You shouted running after him. The young boy giggles and continues to evade you. You normally enjoyed these little games but not when it's well past Charlie's bedtime and Tommy is having a family meeting downstairs... Which just so happens to be where Charlie is headed for. "No, Charlie!" You whisper shouted but the little shit didn't listen.
You curse when Charlie barges right into the room Tommy specifically told you to keep Charlie away from. You followed after the boy but came to a quick stop at the door. Charlie was giggling madly while you were frozen under the eyes of the Shelby family.
"I'm terribly sorry for the intrusion," You blurt out awkwardly. "Charlie, it's time for bed," You tell him sternly with a forced smile. You felt your heart pounding in your chest as you stared at Charlie trying to avoid anyone else's eyes.
John was laughing and spewing jests while Ada looked thoroughly amused. Arthur looked annoyed while Polly, as usual, looked at you unimpressed and dubious. Tommy was a little harder to read which just made you fidget more under his stare.
"Charlie," You said again, your voice slightly higher. John laughed and continued with the 'quiet' teasing.
"Will you sing to me?" Charlie asked. The room went silent and you blushed even more profusely.
"If you come with me now, yes," You agreed. Charlie grinned and ran out of the room. "I'm so sorry for the interruption, won't happen again," You said quickly before backing out. "Damn you Charlie," I whisper walking up to his room.
When you find him he's already under the covers waiting for you to sing him a song. You smile softly, your annoyance melting away as you sit on the bed by his feet.
"You can't go running into that room, Charlie," You lightly scold him.
"I'm sorry," He whispers. You smile knowing full well that he'd be doing the exact same thing within the next few weeks. You just hoped that you'd be able to catch up to him next time.
"It's alright," You assure him. "Are you comfortable?" You ask. He nods, snuggling down in his bed more. You smile but begin to sing without asking for a request. He's been wanting the same song for the past few weeks.
Before you're done with 'I'm nobody's baby' Charlie is fast asleep. You tuck the covers around him more before kissing his forehead. You turn to leave but freeze upon seeing Tommy standing in the doorway.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Shelby for not keeping Charlie away," You whisper. Your hand nervously slides through your hair.
"I didn't know you could sing," Tommy states, ignoring your unneeded apology. Tommy wasn't angry with Charlie nor you for what had happened. in fact, Tommy was finding it increasingly hard to get upset with you. Not that you did anything to upset him.
Inviting you to live in his home turned out to be a bigger blessing than he had imagined. He knew Charlie liked you but since moving in he saw his son become more lively. He was becoming the little boy he had been before losing his mother.
You brought a certain amount of lightness wherever you went. Whoever was around you felt like nothing bad could happen. It's like the worlds problems went away when you smiled. When you sang... the world stopped completely.
"I used to sing a lot," You told him, stepping out of the room. Tommy shuffled away as you shut the door. "One night Charlie was struggling to sleep. I started to sing and he settled down," You explained following him back to the main floor.
"Why did you stop?" He asked, leading you into his study. You hesitate but follow him.
You don't answer his question. It wasn't a simple answer.
"Polly's been talking about you again," Tommy brought up, sparing you from having to answer the question. "She insists there's something more to you,"
"There's always something more to everyone," You answer. "But that doesn't have to mean that something more is bad," You further explain. Tommy turns his gaze from the alcohol to you. "What do you think?"
"I think a man without a dark side isn't to be trusted," Tommy says.
"So, you believe her," You say. "You think I'm hiding something,"
"Yes," Tommy says. "Doesn't mean that something is bad," He says, shrugging. Relief fills you and your shoulders relax. "Drink?" He asks. You nod.
****
"You're gay," Ada states the instant she enters your room. She closes the door to your room and stands there with her arms crossed.
"Yes," You says, frowning your eyebrows. "You already knew that though," You remind her.
"Yes, well the rest of my family is painfully oblivious. Specifically Tommy," She sighs, falling onto your bed. You look at her from your writing desk.
"And why do you care if Tommy knows or not?"
"Because you're in love with each other, that's why," Ada says obviously.
You don't say anything. Ada knew you were gay. She lived with a gay man, of course she knew you were gay as well. How she knew you liked Tommy, you didn't know.
"Oh, please, don't look so surprised," Ada rolls her eyes. "You've been infatuated with him since the moment he hired you,"
"I have not," You said. She gives you a look.
"Oh, so you bringing Tommy lunch at least three times a week then staying long enough to ensure he eats it is just you being a good friend? What about the times Tommy stays a little late at the Garrison and you go get him to make sure he makes it home safe?" Ada asks, raising her eyebrows.
"How do you know about that?" You ask her.
"John's been my informant," Ada tells her.
"You've been spying on me?" You ask, laughing.
"Well, of course," She says obviously. "I have to make sure you're not hiding something horrible. How dreadfully boring it was to find out you're just gay and have the hots for my brother," She rolls her eyes.
"I'm sorry I'm not living up to your expectations," You tease, rolling your eyes.
"You're forgiven," She smiles broadly. "Now, onto more important matters like you and my brother,"
"Nothing will happen, Ada," You tell her. For once you become serious. "Ada, he still grieves for his wife. He puts all his effort into his business and what little time he has left is solely to his son. I'm perfectly happy with how things are right now," You explain.
"Well, I'm not," She shakes her head. You roll your eyes at her. "You're too sweet and respectful to chase after what you want. Well, let me tell you my brother needs you. He actually smiles when you're around. This little flirty friendship you two have isn't enough," She says standing up. "And if you two aren't doing anything about it then I will," She states leaving the room.
"Good lord," You mutter, curious about what's going on through her mind.
****
You were helping the maids clean up and prepare for a family dinner. All the Shelby's had already arrived. Little children were running all over the place. You were happy Charlie had some kids to play with.
"Y/n," Ada smiles coming up to you.
"You look suspicious," You state, eyeing her. "You have a look in your eye,"
"A look? Whatever do you mean?" She asks, mischievously. She winks before walking away.
"This family will be the death of me," You muttered.
You looked around to make sure everyone was having a good time and everything was in place. You avoided Polly's harsh gaze but not Tommy's lingering look.
Once your eyes connected with his it was hard to look away. Ada had been right. You were in love with your employer but you weren't going to do anything about it. You meant what you said to Ada. You didn't believe Tommy was ready for a relationship. Especially with another man. You didn't even know if he were gay or not.
But the reality didn't stop your imagination. You dreamed about having Tommy. You wanted him. You wanted to keep him company, to be with him intimately. You especially wanted to stay with Charlie, the boy you were growing to love. You wanted to be family.
Polly was right. You didn't talk to your family. Not since they found out you were gay. You were caught with a man who worked for your family. Your father almost killed you. You were sixteen and forced to live on the streets.
You did what you had to do. Whether that was to sell yourself or your voice to earn a few coins. It was one of the reasons why you stopped singing. You associated singing with the dirty things you did just to survive. But Charlie was helping you love it again.
Tommy was the one to look away first. A maid had caught his attention. She had a large envelope in her hands. Tommy tried to grab it but she held it away and walked towards you. She handed it to you before leaving.
The envelope said nothing other than your name. Hesitantly, you opened it. Inside is a beautiful yet simple ring along with a letter. You hold the ring in one hand and the letter in the other.
You could feel your face beating red the more you read the letter. It was the sweetest yet filthiest thing you've ever read. At the bottom it was signed by Ada's roommate.
Not even three seconds after you realized what was happening the letter was snatched from your hand. You looked up startled. Your eyes widened as you watched Tommy read through the letter.
"Tommy," You whisper but he hands you the paper and walks away. Your eyes find Ada's. She smirking victoriously. You give her a look before following Tommy. "Tommy wait,"
"I didn't know you were involved with anybody," Tommy stated casually but you could hear the anger in his voice.
"I'm not," You insist. He hums. "It was Ada's idea," You tell him. "She thinks you're..." Your voice fades. "It was just a stupid prank, nothing more," You promise him. "I've never even met him. He's probably just playing along with your sister,"
Tommy glances at you. You're desperate to hear something from him, anything. But he stays silent.
"I should check on Charlie," You mutter, tossing the letter into the fire to prove that it meant nothing to you.
****
"You didn't bring me lunch," Tommy mutters.
You were enjoying your book and a cup of tea in the kitchen. Charlie had been asleep for a while but you didn't want to retire to your room just yet. You hadn't even heard Tommy come home.
"I didn't think you wanted me too," You tell him. "I thought you were angry with me,"
Ever since Ada had the 'brilliant' idea to get Tommy jealous with the letter Tommy's avoided you. You respected his need for space thus avoided him as well. You didn't go to the betting shop to make sure he ate, you didn't go to the Garrison when you suspected he drank too much and you didn't stay up late when he struggled to sleep.
Wordlessly, Tommy walks to the table and sets a small box in front of you. His fingers brush over yours, his eyes linger on you. After a tense moment he walks away.
It took you a few seconds to remember how to breathe. When you look at the box you felt silly for forgetting he had set it down. When you looked into his eyes he was the only person in the world, nothing else mattered in that moment.
You took the box in your hand. You hand your thumb over the fabric covering it before you opened it. A small smile came onto your lips as you saw a simple but elegant ring. It was far more beautiful than the one your 'admirer' had given you.
A soft blush came to your lips as you slipped the ring on.
****
The presents didn't stop with the ring. Tommy would gift you with books, clothes, jewelry, and extra money in your paycheck.
You also found yourself hanging around the family more. Tommy would take you to fights or have you come to the betting shop when he needed help with something. Before you knew it you were becoming his secretary, which you didn't mind.
It was difficult but you were balancing your time between Charlie and Tommy. You were relieved to find Charlie unbothered by your divided attention.
The more time you spent with the family the more you felt like family. Even Arthur was coming around. You, Arthur and John were often the most enthusiastic when it came to fights. You could drink them both under the table which gained you respect with the eldest Shelby.
No matter what you did you could not win any points with Polly Gray. She would glare and turn her nose up at you. You tried to ignore her but she was such an important member of the family you couldn't avoid her.
Although, you supposed you had to be thankful she wasn't interrogating you or trying to convince the others to turn you away anymore.
****
"Tommy," You whisper, leaning against the door in his study. He slouching on the couch, head in one hand with a glass of alcohol in the other. "It's late, you should get some sleep," You insisted.
"Did you fight in the war?" Tommy ask. You press your lips together.
"Everyone fought in the war," You tell him. Tommy looks at you. You can see the past haunting him. "You haven't slept in days," You whisper.
You find your courage and walk up to him. You take the glass from his grip and replace it with your hand. Gently, you pull him off the couch. You stand chest to chest, your noses less than an inch away.
You tug on his hand and lead him up to his room. When you're both inside his grip around your hand tightens. You don't have to talk and neither does he. You close the door and face him.
You're already in comfortable clothes but he's not. You press your free hand on his chest. You don't push him away, you just leave it there. A second later he leans into it.
His eyes close and his head rest against yours. You pull your hand from his. You unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders. He steps out of his shoes and you bend to take his socks off. Lastly he takes off his trousers before you gently push him onto the bed.
You lay beside him. The moonlight shines through the window giving you both just enough light to see each other. Your arms wrap around him. You pull him to your chest. You hope that you can shield him from the horrors of the war, even if it's just for tonight.
Tonight you'll take the brunt force of the past and let him get peaceful sleep. You'll gladly carry the world as long as you can hold him in your arms.
You risk a kiss atop his head. He sleepily moves closer to you. You smile and cherish the moment hoping it won't be the last.
****
After that night you and Tommy seemed closer to those around you. The two of you were always together. You both found comfort in the other.
Ada could only watch happily from afar. She hoped the two of you could figure things out from here on but wasn't afraid to step in gain if you needed another nudge.
Despite the fact that you shared each others beds more often you had yet to share a kiss. You never fucked, you never did anything other than seek refuge in each others arms.
You found yourself wanting more. You've always wanted more but now what you had wasn't enough. You needed more. But you didn't want to pressure Tommy. It would just be nice if you knew there was a future. If there's hope for a future then you knew the wait would be well worth it. However, you didn't think you could last with having almost everything.
You were walking to go talk to Tommy. You wanted to talk to him about things. You didn't know where he stood but you wanted him to know what you were thinking. You were beyond nervous but you tried to push the nerves away.
You never made it to Tommy. A few Peaky Blinders pulled you into an alley and shoved you around. They had put together that you were gay. All the slurs were thrown at you. They got rougher saying that they'd make sure you left their boss alone. If only they knew what bed their boss slept in at night.
As cheerful and kind as everyone saw you to be, Tommy was right. Everyone had a dark side. You just hated feeding yours.
You lived on the streets for years then volunteered for that bloody war. Of course you had a dark side.
A fight broke out between you and the other men. You put up a hell of a fight. You knocked a few out but ultimately got the shit kicked out of you.
It's Birmingham. Nobody bats an eye at some beat up bodies laying in an alley. You're not sure how long it took for you to come too but when you woke it was daytime.
You forced yourself to stand up. Everything hurt but you continued to stumble back to Tommy. You found him in the betting shop. You got looks, John tried to approach you, but you ignored them all and stormed into Tommy's office.
"What are we?" You ask, closing the door behind you.
"Y/n," Tommy's eyes widen at your appearance. Your right eye is swollen shut, your lip is fat, your ribs are bruised enough to make it hard to breathe, and you have a limp. You don't blame him for staring.
"What are we, Thomas?" You ask him. "You flirt, we share a bed, I help with your work and I look after Charlie. I put up with your insufferable aunt, your brothers are always in my business and don't get me started on how nosy Ada can be. But I put up with all of it, for over a year because I love you. I love you and I want to be with you but I know you need time. If you're not ready for more now then let me know and I'll leave. But if there's some hope for the future, if you think that you'll have me at some point then I'll stay. But if it's useless to wait don't make me suffer,"
Tommy was stunned into silence. From your appearance to your confession he was struggling to find the words.
"Say something!" You shouted. "Please," You begged quieter.
Tommy stood from his desk and moved toward you. He stopped a few inches from you and looked you over.
"I want you," He whispers. He raises his hand and gently grips your chin. "I wouldn't have kept you close if I didn't," Relief filled your body. "I want you to sit down. I'll get you something to drink and some medicine," You nodded and with his help you sat on the couch.
Tommy stared at you before slipping out of his office. First he went to John.
"I want those men found and I want them gone," Tommy tells him.
"Arthur and Finn are already looking for em," John promised. "We'll take care of it," He promises.
"Good,"
Despite the pain you were in you were all smiles and laughter a few hours later. You refused to let this ruin your day. You didn't want to focus on the scum that hurt you but the man you loved. You cherished the tender caring he gave you and looked forward to the bright future.
****
Tommy was out of town. You missed him terribly but had plenty to do to keep yourself busy. You were spending the day at the house to look after Charlie.
You were surprised to see Polly walking up to the house. You and Tommy have been together for months. You knew Polly knew that Tommy was out of town which meant she was here for you. That made you very nervous.
"Tea?" You asked when she let herself into your home. Polly nodded and walked with you to the kitchen.
"I knew Tommy was interested in more than just women when he was young," Polly said. "I didn't understand it but I would never allow anyone to hurt him simply because of his preferences,"
"Good," You said. "There should be more of you in the world,"
Polly smiled. The shock nearly knocked you off your feet.
"I thought you would wish for me to just disappear,"
"No," You shake your head. "You're far too important to this family for you to disappear," You said.
"How long were you hospitalized when your father found out about you?" She asks. You tensed and crossed your arms over your chest.
"A month," You told her. "You once asked me why someone who's been through what I have is so happy and cheerful," Polly nodded.
"A few years into the war me and my men were marching into a city in France. These people had literally lost everything. Mothers lost their children, sisters lost brothers, children lost parents, and every had lost their homes. They had nothing to their name. Nothing but the clothes on their backs but they were all happy. They were all crying tears of joy. They were celebrating and singing and dancing just because we were there," You recalled the memory. "At that moment everything I had gone through seemed so small compared to what they had. So, from then on I tried to push away the darkness and that anger and I just tried to be happy because if they could then why couldn't I?"
Polly smiles again.
"That's noble of you," She tells you. You smile and shrug.
"I don't have any ulterior motives, Ms. Gray. I love Tommy and Charlie. I want to be apart of this family,"
"Tommy loves you more," Polly says, standing up. "His world revolve around you and that child," You blush. "We don't deserve you, Y/n, but I'm glad we have you," Polly kisses your cheek. "Call me Aunt Pol," She lightly taps your cheek before walking away.
****
"I heard Polly came while I was gone," Tommy says, changing his clothes. You laid on the bed, a hand under your head and watched him undress.
"She did," You nodded. "I think I'm finally winning her over," You muttered.
"Only took two years," Tommy teased. You grin.
"At least I'm persistent," You shrugged. He gave you a small smile before climbing over you. His hands rested on either side of your head while yours rubbed his bare side.
"I love you," He whispers, kissing your nose. You pull his body down atop of yours welcoming the weight.
"I love you, too, Tommy," You whisper back before kissing him.
#Tommy Shelby#tommy x reader#tommy shelby x reader#tommy x male!reader#tommy shelby x male!reader#x male reader#x male!reader#x reader#request#Peaky Blinders#polly gray#Shelby#fanfiction#one shot
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Like a fairy tale
Yandere!Diluc x maid!fem!reader
Wordcount: 1921
CW: Yandere and slightly suggestive themes.
You loved reading fairy tales as a child - they were magical and hopeful, a needed retreat for a child of destitute parents. They were a promise that if you were good and kind and beautiful enough, eventually some faraway prince would come by and save you from poverty. And you tried to be good - you were obedient and hardworking and you pushed your hardest in the local school, yet hardship and scarcity still trailed your every step - the meager earnings your parents made weren't enough to buy you nice clothes or let you eat until you were sated, which in turn made social interactions harder: some kids sneered and humiliated you, some tried to help you out of pity. You disliked both groups: whether they were friendly or aggressive towards you, they still looked down on you.
Thus you decided to distance yourself from your peers - there was no knight in shining armour galloping towards you on a snow white steed, yet a good education could be your golden ticket to a better rich life. It was hard at first - to work and to study and to help your parents all while ignoring the demeaning and insulting comments the bullies made, but you gritted your teeth and pushed forward, imagining how wealthy you’ll become in the future and in the end our efforts were rewarded - you graduated as the best student, that led you to receiving a scholarship from Sumeru academy. Sparks and shine appeared in your eyes as you read the letter, barely stopping yourself from outright squealing and jumping from joy.
The moment of happiness didn’t last long though, as a reality again reminded you that there’s no place for fairy tales in the real world - scholarship covered the full cost of apprenticeship, but only it - you still had to spend money on the journey from Mondstadt to Sumeru, a place to rent and food, and if you still could find a job after your arrival in the foreign country and pay off the later two, trip required mora that you never had. At first you had a mad idea to traverse Teyvat on your own two feet - it would be a slow and arduous process, but cheap nonetheless. You later gave up on this plan - archons didn’t give you any vision, nor did you have fighting and travelling experience to aid you on the trail that no doubt would be full of slimes, hilichurls and other dangerous monsters.
And that’s how you started job hunting - you took on any work that promised you a hefty pay, be it some boring reports for guild of adventurers or an exciting yet risky endeavor of getting information for an extravagant cavalry captain, which then led you to Dawn Winery. Head housemaid, Adelinde, posted a job opening for a maid, and the prospect of a stable salary, free food and comfortable bed was enough to lure you in there - two or three years ago the previous owner of the winery died in the accident and his successor left Mond for some reason, leaving the maintenance and management of the winery on the shoulders of the said housemaid.
After a quick interview, the head maid demanded you to show her your cleaning skills, which you effortlessly did, having to look after the house by yourself all your childhood. It seems she was satisfied, as she nodded to you and asked to follow her as she led you to your room. Compared to the other two maids here, Hillie and Moco, who preferred to spend their work time in idle chat, you came off as highly professional and diligent worker. This contrast raised both your position and salary in the winery, as Adelinde started to entrust you with tasks more interesting than simple sweeping and cleaning.
You were outside the winery the day you met Diluc - returning from the city and carrying several stacks of milk and wheat you got chased by the hilichurls. Monsters didn’t leave you, no matter how long and how far you ran. You were ready to drop all the goods and have Adelinde to scold you for wastefulness and dereliction when Ragnvindr appeared and stole a breath from you. He looked just like the prince from your childhood tales, impossibly pretty and strong, arriving just when the creatures caught up with you and then defeating all of them with a single slash of great claymore. And just like a fairytale prince he helped you to get up and collect the scattered baggage and asked if you were okay. Then you two headed for the winery, you didn't know that he was it's owner at the time, chatting and thanking him, as he carried purchases. Adelinde almost fainted when she saw the return of the prodigal master in your company. After hastily taking goods from his hands, she made you apologize for rudeness and insubordination, but Diluc interrupted you saying it was fine.
Ragnvindr heir returned back to the winery and life went on its own, except the unreadable glares Diluc started to send you when you both were in the same room. It started off small: the quick glances that soon grew into intense staring. With his impassive stone face it was impossible to tell why he was glaring at you so much, so you acted as polite and professional as you could in his vicinity - after all you didn’t want to get fired and look for a new job. The key to this riddle presented itself during one day.
It was a bleak windy morning when Adelinde sent you to the city again, and as you walked the sky darkened and rain started. You returned absolutely soaked and shivering, teeth chattering and limbs slightly numb from cold and when Diluc saw you he ordered you to change in a low commanding voice. Frightened by the possible dismissal, you hurried putting on the uniform. Because of the haste you pulled it too tightly, hiking up a maid dress a little. It wasn’t up enough to reveal your hips or thighs, showing just a portion of knees that was usually hidden by the wide skirt.
Diluc’s eyes were glued on the uncovered joints, a subtle blush appearing on his pale cheeks. You continued to work, feeling how he consumed your legs with his eyes alone. He is lusting after me. You didn't know what to do with that revelation back then, embarrassed and slightly scared of attracting master Diluc's attention.
Nonetheless, an answer quickly came on the next day as you found a bonus to your salary, so big that it could be considered a payment for the next month. Diluc, despite his usually impassive face, seemed to be ashamed of the thoughts he had yesterday, with the body language telling you of his true feelings.
A plan came to mind. You hated yourself for it at first - it was low and disgraceful, you felt like a stereotypical manipulative gold digger, yet still decided to realize it in life - you needed mora, as fast and as much as possible. Over the time you spent working at the Dawn winery you noticed that Diluc, despite his obviously high intelligence, wasn't really good at judging one’s character, so he fell for your scheme pretty easily. Design you had in mind was pretty simple - to stir him up with small, innocuous gestures and changes that would slip past the outsider’s eyes.
Sometimes you applied a thin layer of healing lip balm on your lips, that so conveniently happened shine and glitter under the light, sometimes you donned your dress a little bit higher, opening the view of two delicate knees and sometimes after cleaning and working all day you felt so hot that you had to unfasten one or two buttons to cool off. Diluc, despite not showing it on his face, was obviously distracted and aroused, hands clenched into fists and a shaky, barely controlled exhale escaping his nose.
He started to pile you with bonuses and prizes; “for a well done job”, he said one time, averting his gaze and masking the shame in his voice under a huff. He also started to request you to specifically clean the rooms he occupied, his eyes sizing up almost every inch of your body. You felt how the lust and desire radiated off him, how his hands itched to trace your skin and have you at his mercy, yet he stopped every time with his steel strong control and self-discipline. You sensed how it dwindled little by little.
Diluc, in some perverted sense, was that fair prince of your childhood daydreams that would save you from poverty.
You almost had saved up the needed amount of money when you noticed the loss of your most cherished possession - an invitation to the Sumeru academy and scholarship certificate. With heart booming in your chest you started to look for it in the whole winery, without giving out that you were searching for something. It seems that you were unsuccessful in your attempts, as master of the winery soon called you into the office.
Here, he was sitting behind the desk with a familiar paper in his hand - your eyes widened as you saw it and you had an urge to run up to him and snatch the invitation from him. You performed a curtsy instead, closing the door behind you and waiting for him to speak, eyes still on the sheet in Diluc’s hold.
“[First], you are a diligent and skillful employee, Adelinde has a very high opinion of you” he started from afar, a slight rosy blush dusting his cheeks at "skillful employee".
"So as your employer I wouldn't want any harm to befall on your person, and" he shaked the invitation a couple of times, "it came to my attention that you were planning on travelling to Sumeru. I advise you against this nonsensical idea".
You gritted teeth, careful not to insult him with the couple of barbed words at the tip of your tongue. Nonsensical idea? This was your goal, a main reason why you worked so much and allowed yourself so little.
“I am sorry, master Diluc, I am afraid I can’t abandon this idea”, you say, response flat and controlled, a thunderstorm of emotions hidden beneath the faux calm, “It is my goal, and the main reason why I work here”. So I can have a bright and secure future, in which I won’t have to worry about the tomorrow ever again.
“I also learned that you were born into a low income family and you had to struggle in your life because of that ” a sudden mention of your less than glorious origin makes your face burn from the shame you thought you buried a long time ago. You are stunned, so he continues: “I believe this little endeavor of yours is also motivated by your desire for a stable future. Drop it, I travelled all across the Teyvat and there are horrors that can easily destroy you both in body and spirit”.
He stands up from the desk, and gets closer to you: “I can look after and provide for you, just stay there and you won’t have to worry about the future again ”. His hold on the paper gets tighter, pyro vision shining with a dangerous glint. A faint smell of smoke spreads through the room - a warning if you remain stubborn and unyielding.
Who could have known that the fair prince was a greedy dragon all along?
#yandere genshin impact#Yandere genshin#yandere diluc x reader#Yandere diluc#Yandere genshin impact x reader#Yandere genshin x reader#Yandere#Diluc#Yandere x reader#my writing
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Shuffle the Odds
Specner is a Vegas boy, who's game is poker, no matter what others might believe. The team slowly catches onto it.
Following Spencer from when he started at the BAU till season 7 with poker as red thread.
On AO3.
Ships: none
Warnings: Reid's shit childhood, a bit about his drug problem, gambling and abandonment issues
~~~~~~~~~~
Most think of Spencer’s game as chess. It’s a mathematical thinking game associated with intellect that he is known to play, so it isn’t a strange assumption to make. But chess has always been Gideon’s game, Reid just plays it with him.
You see, Spencer’s game is poker.
Poker for Spencer is good and bad memories tied up in a strange combination of behavioral studies, Math and high stakes.
He remembers the first time he played the game. He was seven at the time and his father’s poker table was one man short of the usual, so his father had jokingly said: “Spencer can play in Jack’s place.”
It got some laughs, but Spencer hadn’t realized it was a joke and simply replied: “It doesn’t look that hard.”
That got even more laughs, except for his father, who got a glint in his eyes as he said: “Sit down, Spencer. Here, I’ll bet he can kick all our asses. A hundred bucks, who’s in?”
One of the guys had asked Spencer if he had ever played before and Spencer had dutifully told him he had not. So, bet’s were placed and they told Spencer the rules. His father was a couple hundred bucks richer and his parents fought that night.
Still, he often played poker with his dad. One of the few god things they did together before he left, after which Spencer forgot about the game until he was sixteen.
At sixteen, his mother was doing even worse than she was seven years ago and the savings she had from her job were running low as Spencer tried to put himself through college for the so manieth time.
He had done tutoring jobs, but those weren’t enough to live on and now he was old enough to pass with a fake ID and maybe some make-up. So, he remembered the game he played with his father and the money that exchanged hands.
Spencer will always be a Vegas boy at heart.
Thus began his stints withsemi-illegal poker strategy anda confirmed illegal ID as he slowly worked his way through the casino’s in his hometown. He knew it was bad, but it was also profitable and he was finally able to save up for the medical center for his mom. And as long as no one found out, he still had a future.
Still, all of that isn’t something you tell your employer, especially if your employer is the FBI and you’re just starting out on a new team, trying to get the respect your age doesn’t grantyou.
So, he doesn’t start out his new job by saying: Hi, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid and I’m banned from most casino’s in Las Vegas, Laughlin and Pahrump. And instead just awkwardly stumbles over a statistic about germs as he avoids shaking hands.
Gideon knows, of course. He actually ran into the man after a lecture in his psychology courses at a casino-hotel Gideon was staying inat the time. But Spencer played it off as just it being a first time, one-off thing and Gideon pretended to believe him.
They never really spoke of it and the two always played Gideon’s game. Chess. It is the game the others in the BAU know him to play and Spencer is more than fine with that.
However, hiding things while working with a team trained to figure things out off the faintest clues isn’t easy and being a prolific poker player slips through the cracks.
It’s on his third case with the BAU that it happens. They’ve just caught a serial killer in Montana and are flying back. Before Spencer can hide himself in a book like he’s always done, Derek callsout: “Hey, Reid, you’re a Vegas boy, right?”
Spencer has to guess whether Derek found out about his past and it’s a trap or if the other agent is trying to befriend him. In case it is the latter, he doesn’t want to lie, because if he’s going to work with these people, he at least wants to be on good terms with them. Cautiously, he replies: “Yes, I suppose so.”
“So, you play cards?” Derek asks and it’s phrased like a genuine question, but Spencer distrusts the whole thing even more.
He looks to Gideon for answers, but the man is flipping through a case file and isn’t paying attention. Seems Spencer has to figure this one out by himself. “I know how to play,” he settles on, knowing the game isn’t an admission to anything, right?
“Hell yeah, kid. Finally,” Derek grins and it doesn’t seem like a trap, but just excitement. So, Spencer relaxes slightly as Derek says: “No one ever wants to play. Here sit down and I’ll deal. You know poker, right?”
Spencer nods as he sits down. He still looks around, just in case. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, maybe for Hotch the suddenly jump up and accuse him of being a criminal, however unlikely.
JJ dissipates that fear when she snorts: “The only reason none of us want to play with you is because you’re insufferable when you play poker.”
“I am not,” Derek complains. “Reid here doesn’t think so, right, kid?”
“Uhm, no?” Spencer answers quietly, not wanting to ignore Derek, but also not wanting to pick a side between the two agents, who have been on this team longer than him.
“See,” Derek says to JJ as he deals, she just shakes her head and goes back to her report. Once he’s done dealing, Derek throws him a packet of pretzels and informs him that those are the chips they’ll be playing with.
They play four games and Spencer lets Derek win three of them. It’s at that moment that Gideon looks up from his book and decides for fuck Spencer over by saying: “You don’t have to let him win, Reid. He’s cocky enough as is.”
“Hold up,” Derek exclaims indignantly. “He is not letting me win, okay. I’m just good at poker, which is why you’re too scared to play with me. You don’t need to coddle him, he can handle loosing a few rounds of poker against me.”
Now everyone is looking at Spencer, who is decidedly not saying anything, already regretting his decision to agree to a few rounds of poker. He should have just played the nerdy doctor card and pretended he didn’t know, before hiding away again.
“I’m not afraid to play poker with you,” Gideon says. “I just don’t think it’s worth my time.”
“Oh really?” Derek shoots back and it’s 100% a challenge.
“Yes, really,” and Gideon sadly isn’t someone, who lets things go. “I’ll play with you and Reid right now and I want to bet that the kid will wipe the floor with both of us.”
Spencer is suddenly transported to his old living room, with his father and his friends surrounding a poker table. He blinks and Derek and Gideon both look at him to see if he agrees. Awkwardly he says: “I don’t know. I could probably beat you, but counting cards is looked down upon and I can’t turn my brain off enough for me not to do it, so I’ll have an unfair advantage.”
“No, man, poker is about body language and reading clues,” Derek tells him. “Profiling beats Math when it comes to poker. Play your best, I’ll beat you both.”
And with that it’s decided and the cards aredealt again.
The whole game Spencer is not only calculating the cards, but also what his best move is. He doesn’t want to disappoint Gideon, but he also doesn’t want any scrutiny on his poker playing skills, so he has to find away do avoid both.
In the end, he decides he can spout something about Math that will bore Derek and make it seem like it’s just theory that made him good. Besides being good at poker, doesn’t mean having been banned throughout casino’s inthree towns before you were the legal age to gamble. That isn’t a connection one would make.
So, he wins and watches nervously as Gideon gives Derek a smirk, who frowns: “Could just be lucky. It happens, sometimes cards are against you.”
“Then deal again,” Gideon tells him, which the other does with a huff.
Spencer wins again and then again, feeling a bit like the party trick he used to be at office parties his dad had as Hotch and JJ come to watch while Spencer wipes the floor with the othersat poker over and over again, much to Derek’s frustration.
“I give up,” he finally says, throwing his hands up. “You win. Happy?”
“Very much so,” Gideon grins, before going back to his report like nothing has happened.
Spencer doesn’t really know what to do. Gideon thinks it’s over, so do Hotch and JJ, but Derek is still looking out the window, slightly putout. The whole goal was to befriend the other agent, but instead he just made him upset. Softly, he says: “I’m sorry.”
Derek looks up at him in surprise, eyes softening when he sees the young agent. He smiles gently and says: “I’m not mad, promise. No need for sorry.”
“But I-”
“I can handle loosing a bit of poker,” Derek quirks a brow and Spencer feels stupid about what he was insinuating. “And I get going along with Gideon, he loves his tricks, wouldn't want him to turn on me.” Derek winks at that and Spencer, for the first time in his life, is included in a mutual joke and brightens.
It dims slightly again as he says: “I didn’t let you win, because I thought you’d be a sore looser.”
“Then why did you?” Derek asks, no judgment in his voice.
Spencer shrugs, before confessing: “People generally don’t like it when someone beats them at something they’re good at. I- I have- A lot of people are less nice when you disprove something they believe, especially if you’re younger.”
He doesn’t like being vulnerable, but he does really like this job and this team, who have only taken him seriously and appreciated him ever since he got there. If it gets to stay that way, he’s prepared to make a sacrifice.
And it pays off too, because Derek face turns into something understanding an Spencer is grateful when he doesn’t ask further, just starts shuffling the cards as he says: “You gonna show me how you did that? One day. One day and I’ll use your tricks against you.”
“We’ll see,” Spencer smiles, picking up his cards. Yeah, this team is worth it.
Slowly, he gets integrated into the BAU until he knows them all as well as family. Elle joins them and he likes her. She isn’t a huge poker player, but she seems to get amusement out of watching Spencer beat Derek on the plane.
At one point, she says: “We should take you to Vegas, earn some money.”
It’s meant as a joke, Derek laughs, but Spencer freezes slightly. When Derek notices, he immediately asks: “You okay, Reid?”
Spencer knows he can’t very well tell Derek: ‘No, I was suddenly gripped by the fear that you would uncover my illegal gambling and I froze,’ so he smiles and answers: “I’m fine. Just hadn’t realized Elle didn’t know I’m from Vegas. It’s quite a strange thing to hear someone joke about taking you to your hometown.”
That gets the two of them off his back as Elle makes another joke about him having poker genes, but Derek’s gaze stays on him.
Still, the incident is forgotten and life goes on.
When they’re attacked by Randall Garner, Spencer fears for a moment that he’ll use it as leverage against him. It never happens and he later realizes that his mom doesn’t even know what he did for them and that it just slipped his mind in the stress of the case and fear.
Yet the attack sets in motion the reasoning and actions that lead to Elle leaving and Spencer knows he’s going to miss her so much. She’s the first to leave since he’s gotten to the team and he is suddenly reminded of how much is sucks when someone you care about goes.
He still calls her and she still asks if he has beaten Derek at poker recently, but it isn’t the same.
Her replacement is one Emily Prentiss. Spencer is usually a nice, welcoming person, but he has been kidnapped recently and the drugs are still messing with his system and Elle’s departure is still raw.
So, he’s hostile towards her. He doesn’t like her. She tries to befriend him, replace someone he’s missing and he wants to escape both her and the loss.
It’s only when he finds himself at a casino in Quantico, trying to win the extra off the book cash needed to buy the drugs, that he knows he has to stop. He has worked hard to get where he is in the FBI at his age and he finally has a family. Sure, one member has gone, but the others were still there. He isn’t going to ruin that.
He leaves the casino that night and gets sober. It’s a struggle and he isn’t any nicer to Prentiss throughout his withdrawal period.
Derek tries to get him to play, but he doesn’t react. He knows it worries him, but he can’t help but see that casino again and all the casino’s before that and he can’t bring himself. So, he watches, almost from afar as Prentiss says: “I play.”
“Okay,” Derek nods as he starts to shuffle, but his eyes trail over Spencer and he isn’t as enthusiastic.
Prentiss proves to be a good match and Spencer knows that in another time, he’ll have enjoyed playing with her and bullying Derek together, but he can’t bring himself now.
Still, it gets better, for a while. He stays sober and redeems himself as a normal, okay and nice person for Emily, who is also much nicer than he first treated her. She fits in with them all, despite her sometimes distant position. Not that he blames her for that, he knows a defense for abandonment when he sees it. Just because he clings, doesn’t mean, he isn’t aware of the other coping mechanisms.
Then Gideon leaves.
If Elle’s departure has hit him, this punches him in the face and kicks him when he’s down. Gideon is the closest thing he has to a father and the man walking out is too familiar.
It hurts.
He plays chess intensely until he can’t look at a chess board without wanting to throw in across the room. So, when Derek and Emily are playing on the plane again, he says: “Hey, deal me a hand too.”
When Derek smiles a proper smile at him, he feels the weight of Gideon’s departure lighten. Poker is Spencer’s game, he has tied it to good memories with family, no matter how it ends, for years and he isn’t going to stop now.
Emily, at this point, has never seen him play and cockily jokes: “I would worry, Reid. No offense, but I’ve been wiping the floor with Morgan here and my Sin to Win weekends have prepared me for this showdown.”
Spencer wants to counter it, but he sees a mischievous glint in Derek’s eyes as he subtly shakes his head. With Derek he doesn’t feel like a circus trick, but just someone in on the joke after Emily’s cocky statement, which is very reminiscent of Derek’s.
“We’ll see,” is all he says as he sits down. JJ looks up and shakes her head fondly and Hotch looks up then away with the hint of a smile. The only one who looks up curiously is Rossi, who is even newer than Emily and the only other one, who has never seen Spencer play.
He has to admit that Emily is one lucky lady in her draws, but even her luck is mathematically predictable. Especially because she pushes her tongue against the inside of her teeth, which you can see in her jaw, whenever she’s lucky.
Ah, the beauty of behavior andMath.
Spencer beats her and Derek laughs, prompting her to demand a rematch. After five more games, in which, admittedly, she has beat him once and almost twice, she is suitably impressed. Still, she turns to Derek and accuses: “You knew, you fucking dick.”
Derek just laughs and says: “Everyone has to learn the hard way about Reid and poker, okay. If he weren’t already a Vegas boy, I would bring him to start my pension for me.”
That makes Emily laugh and Spencer can also manage a chuckle. Derek thinks him too much ofa doctor for him to realize. It’s all good and he can also laugh at the absurdity that it happened to him, even if the others only laugh at the possibility.
After that it becomes sort of a thing. He, Derek and Emily play poker on the way home from cases and slowly the pain of Gideon leaving disappears as he grows closer to both Emily and Rossi.
At some point, Hotch comments that he remembers Rossi being a poker player, but Rossi holds up his hands and replies: “I’ve seen the blood in the water with them, I’m not swimming with the sharks.”
“You scared, old man?” Derek jokes.
“Of you? No. Of them? Absolutely.” Rossi tells him, making the whole team laugh as well as make Spencer feel a strange sort of pride. As if his poker is an admirable skill, instead of something he’s ashamed about.
He never talks of poker outside the plane rides and no one pushes him. Emily will mention her Sin to Win weekends from time to time, insinuating that Spencer is invited, should he want to come, but he never takes her up on it.
Poker is reserved for the plane. A winding down from stressful cases that is carefully separated from the ground, both in his personal life and professional life. Despite the inaccuracy in the metaphor, he doesn’t see the need to wave a red cape in front of a bull’s eyes. No need to invite conversation where it might lead to an uncomfortable one.
Still, he is Dr. Spencer Reid and life never truly goes his way.
They have been in Las Vegas before on a case, even stayed in a Casino. It was back when Spencer tried to arrest his father, but Spencer wasn’t recognized by anyone, probably since he hadn’t been back in years and it wasn’t one he was hard banned.
He isn’t as lucky this time.
Spencer doesn’t even realize until they pull up. He usually checks with JJ where they go, he does it to every city to check up on the motels to know how much he’ll have to prepare for the grossness, but having been called out of bed in the middle of the night for a series of brutal murders with another one imminent, it had slipped his mind.
So, when they come back from a day investigating to try and get a little bit of sleep before returning to the station, he is faced with The Mirage, a big name in Vegas, which had banned him withquite a scene that has made him terrified to ever return.
The others first don’t realize he pauses outside as he hesitates. If he walks in with Hotch, he isn’t likely to be stopped, but the way he was thrown out, doesn’t bode well for him. And if he just pauses long enough, he can go somewhere else without calling the team’s attention to the fact that he’s avoiding the casino and for what reasons that would be.
But before he can make up his mind, Derek notices. He looks back and frowns. “Hey, Reid, you okay, pretty boy?”
“I mean, yeah,” Spencer replies, already cringing at how out of character and suspicious it sounds.
Immediately the others stop and look back, all slightly concerned. Spencer’s eyes flick between them and the casino, still deliberating. With how closely they’re looking, it doesn’t go unnoticed and Hotch asks: “Is there a problem with the casino?”
Spencer scratches his nose and shrugs: “No, no, of course not.” He just has to hope that Hotch’s Hotch-ness will get him to his room and that him avoiding the gambling area will be enough to not get kicked out in front of everyone.
He practically hides behind Hotch, much to everyone’s amusement, even if it’s colored by confusion and concern about the behavior of their youngest member. Derek in particular is sending him glances with meaningful eyebrows that Spencer avoids in favor of looking if he is spotted by security yet. So far, so good.
They almost make it to the elevator too.
Spencer can almost touch the – probably incredibly germ-y –elevator button, when a Pit Boss, middle management on the floor, spots him. The woman yells: “Hey, you there. At the elevator, turn around.”
The whole team pauses, first unsure if she’s talking to them. Then they see how Spencer is frozen, before he turns slowly as they follow suit, confusion written all over their faces.
Of course Spencer recognizes the lady. Her name is Fiona Quinn and she was the one that threw him out, now already eleven years ago. He was seventeen at the time and had managed to piss off a visiting executive, who was assessing the staff.
She goes livid when she recognizes him. “Get out!” she screams. “Get out of this casino! You know very well you’re not supposed to be here.”
“Miss Quinn,” he starts trying to explain, “I’m not here to bet, I promise. I- I’m here for work and I didn’t book-”
“I don’t care for your excuses,” Fiona fumes. He remembers she was a Pit Boss back then too, probably on the cusp of a promotion that he had ruined for her.
Spencer cowers slightly under her rage and looks helplessly at Hotch, who steps in. He shows her his badge and says: “I’m SSA Hotchner, I’m with the FBI. Can you please tell me why you’re harassing one of my colleagues, who is trying to get to his room.”
That, if anything, makes her even more livid. “That little brat?” she shrieks. “Is he even old enough to be FBI or did you give you a fake ID too?”
Multiple eyebrows are raised as they look at Spencer, who makes a gesture that hopefully conveys: I know, I also don’t want to talk about it. It is what it is.
“Ma’am, I see you’re upset, but SSA Dr. Reid is only sleeping here. He did not even know we would be staying here until moments ago,” Hotch tries to calm her down.
“I don’t care,” Fiona says. “You may be FBI, but you’re not all powerful. He,” she points harshly at Spencer, “is banned here. For forever. He’s not allowed to set a foot in this establishment and should be glad the police let him off with a warning. The ban has not worn off, it was lifelong, not over after a decade.”
“We understand that, ma’am,” Hotch says gently. “But at this moment we just want to go to our rooms. We’re not here to gamble, just rest. We have to go back to a murder investigation in a few hours and we would like some rest. He won’t set foot in here after that, I promise, but can we please stay for the night we booked.”
Fiona regards them for a moment, suspicion in her eyes. However, she also seems to realize she has gained quite an audience and her movements are being watched. “Can I see your badge again, agent?” she asks.
Dutifully Hotch shows her his badge, but not without sending Spencer a look that tells him this will be discussed in length later.
She then looks at Spencer and disgust colors her features as she says: “And your badge, let me see it.” Spencer shows her, feeling very uncomfortable as she studies it. She hums: “So your name is Spencer Reid. I’ll update our ban with the proper name.”
He blushes and nods, apologizing for the inconvenience and mentally beating himself up for not just taking a nap at the police station or leaving the moment he saw where they were staying. But Fiona Quinn is satisfied with their badges and lets them go upstairs.
The elevator ride is quiet for a moment, then, just as Spencer thinks he might get away with staying silent, Hotch prompt: “So, Reid, care to explain what that was about?”
“Uhm, well,” Spencer starts, not really wanting to but knowing he can’t avoid it and praying they reach their floor before it can go somewhere. “You know. Stuff. Happened.”
Hotch slowly raises one brow and Spencer desperately tries not to meet his eyes. Derek elbows him and looks up in surprise. The man smirks, like he doesn’t believe Spencer could have done anything that bad, as he asks: “What did little Spencer do to get himself banned from a casino? Wild 21stbirthday or something?”
“Not- Not exactly,” Spencer answered. “More- well, uhm, can you all- I wouldn't want- It’s just-”
“Dr. Spencer Reid without words, that’s a first,” Emily noted. “Someone call the news.”
“Reid, at this point I think it’s better for you to tell us than for us to make our own assumptions,” Hotch tells him and that’s what pushes him over the edge, he knows what an active imagination can do.
“Promise not to tell the director?” he still checks.
Derek frowns and comments: “Damn, what did you do?”
“It was eleven years ago, alright,” Spencer defends himself before he realizes they can do the mental Math themselves.
“You would have been seventeen and definitely not allowed to be in here,” Hotch says pointedly.
“Kind of exactly that,” Spencer winces as the other’s explode. Still, he stupidly defends himself by saying: “But they didn’t throw me out because of that, they just tried to charge me, but they didn’t. I was fine. They let me off with a warning, sort of.”
“Reid,” Hotch is not looking happy.
Before Spencer can answer the elevator dings, they all get out, but no one moves to go to their rooms. In a last ditch effort to avoid answering for his past, Spencer says: “We should try to get some rest. We still have a case, remember?”
“Yeah, no, pretty boy,” Derek shakes his head. “Just tell us what happened that has gotten you a lifetime ban here.”
“I have more bans,” it slips out and he face palms, before explaining: “I count cards. I can’t help it, my brain does it automatically. I wouldn't have gotten caught if I had been more careful, I always make sure to loose enough rounds to not raise suspicion, but our electricity had gone out and me and my mom don’t do well without light. I just needed enough money for the bills, I didn’t know an executive would be there.”
He hates how he has a front row seat to the revelations on his team mates’ faces as they realize he illegally played poker throughout his youth, just to make sure he and his mom would survive. If it was just the illegal part, he would bea stupid teen, but now he’s just a sob story.
“But that’s over now,” he says, before anyone can pity him. “I don’t play for money anymore and I’ve never been caught. I know that doesn’t make up for it, but my record is clean, I swear, this was the only thing I did. Casino’s make 6 million dollars a year off gambling, they wouldn't miss one kid earning a bit off that.”
“I won’t tell,” Derek speaks up, he thinks it only fair having not mentioned his own past to the team until it got relevant.
Others nod their agreement and a knot loosens in Spencer’s chest. However, Hotch still has to decide and Spencer might still loose it all.
Everyone holds their breath.
“Seeing how far in the past it is and the circumstances, I do not see the need to notify the board,” the unit chief finally decides and Spencer lets out a big sigh of relief. “Now, Reid was right, we do still have a case. Everyone, get some rest.”
They don’t mention it again after that. The next night Spencer sleeps on the precinct couch, promising the others that it’s fine. They solve the case the day after that and are on the plane home in no time.
On the plane, Derek hesitates for a moment, then pulls out their deck of cards, before yelling: “Hey, pretty boy, just ‘cause you can’t play for money, doesn’t mean you’re getting out of this.”
Spencer is glad the other isn’t being weird about it and gladly goes to sit with him and Emily as they start the game.
They’re a few rounds in when Derek says: “Hey, Reid. All those times we joked about taking you to Vegas, huh?” Spencer nods to signal he knows what Derek is talking about. “How much were you laughing at us?”
The question honestly takes him by surprise and he honestly answers: “I didn’t. I was more scared you would connect the dots.”
“Are you banned just in Vegas?” Emily asks then.
“In the area, yeah,” Spencer answers, not seeing the need to list the three towns he’s not allowed to gamble in.
“So, I could still bring you to an Atlanta Sin to Win weekend?” Emily says.
Spencer laughs, he can’t believe she’s still trying that. He grins: “I think we’ll both get banned if I go and I don’t think you want that.”
“Damn, here I thought I got my future fortune,” Emily grins back.
And life goes on. It really isn’t a conversation topic and it gets mostly forgotten as more important things come at them that they need to focus on.
He hadn’t realized how forgotten until they’re in New Jersey, trying to track down a serial killer trying to get good luck. The whole case surrounded casino’s, but no one has turned to him to give him a look or make a dumb joke about it. They haven’t even asked if he knows anything that could help with the case, given his past.
Not that he has.
He’s seen people with rituals trying to get good luck, but he has personally never believed in it and hasn’t encountered something this extreme before. The only insight he could offer is to how a casino works, but that’s about it.
Still, he knew it would come up the moment he saw what the case is about and he’s more surprised it took this long.
They figured out what the unsub wants to win. A poker game. The buy in, 50,000 dollars. Spencer has seen more extreme, but never participated in those games, too risky when you’re technically not even allowed to be here, no matter how profitable.
However, he doesn’t offer himself as candidate. It seems unnecessary when they don’t even have the funds to be allowed to go in. As Rossi sarcastically points out: “I can’t imagine why not. We’re only asking for 50,000 bucks of taxpayer money so that FBI agents can play Texas Hold ‘Em.”
Spencer is about to agree they need another plan, when Emily says: “Hey, what about you?”
“What about me?” Rossi counters immediately.
“You could take us the buy-in,” Emily says.
And honestly, Spencer doesn’t see another option without people getting hurt, so he agrees: “Yeah, you’re a best-selling author.”
“No!” And Spencer can’t really blame Rossi, even if it would be better if the agent agrees with them.
“Why not?” Seems Emily agrees with Spencer on that.
“One, it’s against regulations,” Rossi points out, like they haven’t made rasher decisions in the past to catch a killer. “And I’d like to hold onto this job for a little while longer.”
“It’s a minor administrative violation,” JJ says, saying what Spencer is thinking.
“And two, I prefer to spend my money on actual things, like single-malt Scotch, a fine cigar, beautiful artwork,” Rossi counters further and it ishis money.
“Poker chips are things.” Not that that is deterring Emily in any way and Spencer is really coming up empty on alternative and backs her up: “Maybe just think of it as, like, a new experience. I mean, at your age, how often does that happen?”
“At my what.” Okay, so maybe not the best move.
“Rossi, this may be our only chance to get this guy.” Thank god for JJ and her people skills and quick thinking.
“All right, fine,” Rossi finally gives in. “I’m a decent poker player, but I can’t promise that I can stay in the game long enough to…”
Spencer is mostly fine with letting Rossi go in. He’s the more experienced people reader and they need to find the unsub, not just play poker. Plus it is his money, not Spencer’s, so he’s not presenting himself as player, even if he could stay in the game longer, because 50,000 dollars is a lotof money.
“You know what? I bet you’re a great poker player, but what if we send in Reid?” Seems Emily is more pragmatic and sees no problem in presenting Spencer as option.
“I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughling and Pahrump, because of my card-counting ability,” Spencer offers. Is it a slightly weird resume? Yes. But he can stay in the game longer and with someone else being the one to present it, he is going to jump aboard.
No one reacts to the other two towns they hadn’t known about, all too busy with the case.
“Look, I know I’m not a genius like the boy wonder here, but poker is not blackjack. It’s about bluffing, reading human nature, head games. It’s not Math,” Rossi says.
And normally Spencer would let things like this go, because it is Rossi’s money and not his call in the end, but he also loves facts and poker is his favorite game. He can’t let Rossislander the beauty of Math that comes along with behavioralanalysis that makes poker such an amazing game.
“That’s not entirely accurate,” he’s out of his seat before he even knows what he’s doing and writing on the whiteboard. “There actually is a Mathematical equation for knowing when to raise and when to fold. If P represents the size of the pot at the time of play, then P times N minus 1, with N representing the estimated numbers of players at the final round of betting-”
“Okay, fine,” he gets cut off by Rossi before he can finish his explanation. “I surrender. Just try not to loose all my money?”
Spencer grins and takes that as a challenge.
Taking the unsub down is of course a priority, but after they’ve explained to the organizers what happened and who they are, Spencer is allowed to gather his winnings, even return to the competition if he wants.
One look from Hotch discourages that idea, so he just collects the chips and goes to get them exchanged, the others on his heels. They all want to see how much he’s won. Rossi even jokingly comments: “You better not have lost too much.”
He doesn’t reply more beyond a cheeky grin, before depositing his wins. He already knows how much he won, but it’s less fun to tell them. As the man at the register counts, Spencer asks: “Hey, Rossi, do I get to keep what I won? I technically earned it and you’ll still get your money back.”
Rossi is a smart man, who merely replies: “We’ll see.”
The registry man can’t help, but nod slightly impressed once he’s done counting and says: “You’ve won 107,580 dollars, congratulations.”
There is a moment of stunned silence, before Derek whistles and Emily hoots, patting him hard on the back. Rossi blinks a few times before grinning and even Hotch shares a small smile with JJ, who looks impressed.
“Damn, pretty boy really does have game,” Derek says as the money is being counted.
“Well,” Spencer blushes. “I had a higher buy-in than I’m used to and we we’re making 8,000 dollar bets throughout. I just played smart and it took me a while before I was at the right table.”
“That’s still impressive, Reid,” JJ says.
“Yeah, you can keep the money you won on that just from extraordinary points alone,” Rossi agrees.
Spencer is in the process of taking the money and quickly goes: “No, no, here, I was just joking, Rossi. That’s your money.
“I’ll take it,” Emily holds out her hand, grinning mischievously as Derek pushes her, before pausing and saying: “I want in too.”
“You know, we’ll split the money,” Rossi says.
“Including Garcia and giving Rossi his orginal 50,000 back that’s still 8,255.71 dollar,” Spencer quickly calculated.
“I will take that,” Emily shakes Rossi’s hand quickly and firmly, before Rossi can back out.
“Aren’t your parents rich, Em?” JJ asks, always having thought those comments were jokes.
Emily shrugs: “They also taught me to never say no to money.”
“I can get behind that,” Derek grins, slinging an arm around Spencer. “Thanks for the money, pretty boy.”
He rolls his eyes, but it’s nice to share his winnings openly with friends, more family, without having to hide or be ashamed. It feels like coming full circle and reclaiming the game he’s always loved for his own and good memories.
Spencer’s game is poker and he can say that with a smile.
~~
A/N:
I love poker playing genius Spencer Reid and there’s honestly not enough content, so I had to do something about that XP
#RR writing#tw: abandonment issues#tw: drugs#tw: childhood trauma#tw: gambling#cm#criminal minds#spencer reid#derek morgan#elle greenaway#emily prentiss#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch#jason gideon#dave rossi#jennifer jareau#spencer reid and poker#spencer reid is a vegas boy
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Somehow it leaks into the press that Cloud Strife is the bastard son of Late President ShinRa. Unrelated, the news is Vincent Valentine being the biological father of General Sephiroth also makes it into the news.
It begins with a news article.
It's nothing too shocking, at first. Old ShinRa scandals are gil-a-dozen now, with investigative reporters digging them up on particularly boring news cycles to shock and horrify the masses with all the terrible things that had been going on right under their noses. This week it's detail on all the cloning business, all about Jenova, the SOLDIER project, mako. That week it's about the countless people died in various human trials, be they medicine, materia or weapons. That week it's the waste of resources, how much money was wasted on useless, ridiculous projects for no other reason than because ShinRa had the money to spend.
There's always something new and thrilling to be dug up in the grave of ShinRa to entertain the masses and so it's become kind of mundane. You can only shock and awe people with the crimes of a select group of people so many times in a row before it becomes, more or less… mundane. And this article had seemed more of the same.
Affairs, Bastards and Coverups – the numerous scandals of the ShinRa Elite!
Cloud scanned the first lines of the article and then dismissed it. Some reporter has compiled months worth of data and stolen documents concerning the personal lives of the Shinra family the various heads of department – and it turned out that they were living it up in the lap of luxury, cheating on their spouses, having secret love children, covering them up with money and non-disclosure forms, oh my. It's nothing new – everyone knew the President had mistresses and bastards in every ShinRa town, and it's not surprising the others followed suit.
At least it wasn't yet another secret ShinRa super weapon about to kill them all, Cloud thinks, moves to throw the whole paper aside, when sub header further down the article catches his eye. At first he doesn't quite understand it – he sees his name in the papers plenty, and maybe it's a mistake, maybe it's something unrelated – maybe he misread… but no.
Cloud Strife – or is it Cloud Shinra?
Then, then he stops to read it the article in full – and what do you know, it does have some surprises after all. And not, it turns out, just for him.
-
Vincent announces his arrival by grinding gravel under his metal heel – and by pressing a cool beer can against Cloud's shoulder in silent offering.
Ah, Cloud thinks, and accepts it. "You knew?"
"Suspected it," Vincent agrees and sits beside him on the cliff, overlooking Edge and the Ruins of Midgar. He's holding the paper in hand. "There's a family resemblance."
Cloud hums and opens the can, reaching the paper. It's open on the Article, of course it is – Vincent has even highlighted sections of it. "Family resemblance," Cloud repeats, running a thumb over the underlines – pressed in hard with a ballpoint pen. "I don't know – definitely didn't inherit the old bastard's chin."
Vincent hums. "You and Rufus. There was also another Shinra bastard in company employment with files left – Lazard Deusericus. You all have very similar features."
Cloud frowns a little at that, trying to remember – but if he ever met Lazard, it's not coming to him. Zack might've known the guy, but… most of those memories were faded now. "Well," he says and turns the page to the second section of the article – dedicated entirely to the family drama of Professor Hojo, and the Child Stolen – Sephiroth.
How the reporter had found out so much about Vincent, Cloud has no idea, but they had his whole career as a Turk down – right down to his disappearance under mysterious circumstances in Nibelheim, and his resurface as one of the Heroes who Saved the Planet, decades later.
Of course, Cloud's crew has been in the public eye long enough that none of their lives are secret anymore – everything that could be found out about them had been by this point, and that included the mystery of Vincent Valentine, as well as Nanaki's history and Yuffie's royal heritage. So maybe it's not that big of a surprise, that people figured out the rest of it.
They hadn't done enough try to hide their histories, Cloud muses. They hadn't realised that it might be something they should do – not until it was too late.
"You don't seem surprised either," Vincent points out, glancing at the paper, and the picture of young Sephiroth on it.
"You ever see Sephiroth standing beside Hojo? Definitely no family resemblance there," Cloud muses, giving him a look. "Sephiroth was always too pretty to be Hojo's kid."
Vincent looks away, blowing out a slow breath into his scarf. Cloud takes a drink of the beer and then reads the pertinent lines again.
Really, what's most surprising about the whole damned thing is how surprising it still manages to be. None of this really matters anymore. ShinRa family is all but gone, Rufus is pretty much powerless, Sephiroth is trice-over-dead, even Hojo is properly back in his grave, and none of this actually affects anything anymore. They all had some suspicion, before, they all had some theories, so it's not a shock. Except that it is and it does affect things.
"The things we could've done," Cloud mutters wryly, shaking his head. "If only we'd known."
"Hmph," Vincent answers and relaxes a little. "It likely wouldn't have changed things. Not unless we had known… years before."
"Yeah, and even then I doubt ShinRa would've much cared, considering how those assholes went about dealing with their bastards," Cloud says and drops the paper in between them. "I probably would've gotten shot – and you did get shot."
"I did get shot," Vincent agrees. "I suppose it makes more sense now. Why he didn't… really, kill me."
Cloud grimaces at that and takes another drink. Yeah – Hojo could get rid of obstacles without qualms and not think about it twice, but what he did to Vincent, oh, that was personal wasn't it? It was probably revenge – and not just for loving the woman Hojo had wanted, but being the father of the son Hojo had coveted. And how like Hojo, to have a loose end of that magnitude, and then just… drop it, when it stopped entertaining him.
Maybe it'd been the same with Cloud – and Zack. They got their taste of Hojo's personal interest for daring to kill Sephiroth, and then Hojo dropped them too and moved onto whatever else interested him. It's been years now, and Cloud dares to think he's mostly over it, but thinking about it now… Had Hojo known about his relation to the Shinra family – had he cared? Had it made the whole thing that much more fun for the asshole, did he get some sadistic delight in tearing into his boss' progeny?
"Yeah," Cloud muses and lets out a quiet, smothered belch. "I don't know about you, but I really could've done without this knowledge."
Vincent hums in answer. "Truth is neither good or bad. It simply is," he says. "It is always better to know, than to wallow in ignorance."
Cloud makes a face and glances at him. "Speaking of wallowing, how personally are you taking this?" he asks then, looking him up and down. Vincent has the tendency of drowning in guilt and blaming himself, and this, as little as it changes things, as much as it morbidly just amuses Cloud…
Finding you're the bastard son of a dead rich guy is one thing – finding out you had a son and were part of killing said son, several times now, that's something else.
Vincent looks down and says nothing for a long, windswept moment. "Very," he says finally and shakes his head. "How else can I take it?"
"You must've suspected," Cloud says and then grimaces – shouldn't have said that.
"Well," Vincent answers, his voice dipping lower, almost inaudible. "I must have."
Cloud sighs and then reaches one hand over, rubbing it up and down along Vincent’s tense back, fingers snagging on belts through the ragged cape. "I'm sorry, Vincent," he says. "Really, sincerely sorry."
Vincent says nothing, but he doesn't move away from the touch, which for him is the same as leaning into someone's shoulder and wailing out in grief. Cloud lowers the can he's holding and then releases a sigh. The whole thing blows, really, and it changes nothing – just another scandal for people to be entertained by. Another horror to add into their ever growing collection.
But it's something to imagine it – if Vincent had known, if he could've done something about it. Half of the whole mess was the hellish upbringing Sephiroth got in Hojo's hands – if something had interrupted that, if someone, anyone, would've interfered, then maybe, just maybe... Cloud's relation probably wouldn't have mattered much, he was just one ShinRa bastard among many, but if Sephiroth got an actual loving upbringing… who knows.
Maybe the guy wouldn’t have gone megalomaniacal world ending monster on all of them. Who knows.
-
tentatively dipping my toes in the waters of ff7... it’s been a while, i don’t even know if i know how to write these guys anymore
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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.
#Danny Phantom#phandom#invisobang#danny#sam#tucker#dash#valerie#mr. lancer#technus#skulker#kitty#johnny#box ghost#clockwork#observants#teacher! danny#danny's a little shit#danny fenton the teacher#danny gets a job#your teachers dead shenanigins#fan fic#phan phic#my writing#have a fic suck my dick#phantomphangphucker#slight religous mocking#invisobang 2021
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man’s world ~ harley quinn;birds of prey
word count: 1965
request?: no
description: every bad guy in town is after harley quinn after the announcement of her breakup with the joker, but harley is about to make a very powerful friend to have on her side
pairing: harley quinn x female!reader
warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of murder
masterlist
There was no need in counting the money given to me. I could tell by the size of the tack that it wasn’t enough. “You stiffed me again.”
Roman rolled his eyes at me. “I told you I’d pay for a clean kill, that wasn’t a clean kill. You’re lucky I paid you at all.”
“What do you mean? How can a kill be any cleaner than arsenic poisoning? I even framed that chemist guy that had a grudge against the target, it’ll never be traced back to you.”
“Sorry, did I say clean? I meant I wanted a messy murder. Your plan was smart, but I love the theatrics of it all. Next time, I want a show.”
I rolled my eyes and started to walk away. I really wished I could find a new employer. Roma was the absolute worst boss. He was an asshole misogynist that overworked and underpaid me. But he had a lot of leverage on me, what with me being his hitwoman and all, so until I could find a new employer, I was basically bound to Roman.
“Wait!” Roman said. I sighed and turned back to look at him. “I do have a pretty big job for you. If you do this, I promise you I will pay you in full. A large sum, too.”
“I’ve heard that before, Roman,” I said and turned to walk away again.
He stood from his desk and quickly approached me, grabbing my arm to stop me. I raised an eyebrow and yanked my arm away. Most people were too afraid of Roman to behave like this around him. However, most people weren’t his hitwoman, meaning they didn’t have the dirt on him that I did.
It was a balanced relationship we had, whether Roman wanted to admit it or not.
“I mean it, (Y/N),” he said. “This is a big job. If you do this, I will pay you double, no triple the original price of this hit.”
I should’ve walked away, I could’ve walked away. Roman wouldn’t stop me if I did. But I couldn’t lie, the money sounded good - if Roman actually gave me what he was promising this time.
I sighed and motioned with a hand for Roman to go on. He smiled like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Do you know who Harley Quinn is?”
~~~~~~
It didn’t take long to find where Harley Quinn decided to live after the Joker kicked her to the curb. It was severely under protected, unless you classified a sweet Asian man as “protection”.
He tried to stop me as I made my way to Harley’s apartment. “Who are you?”
“I’m an old friend of Harley’s from Arkham Asylum,” I responded. “I wanted to surprise her, I just got out.”
“She’s not home right now.”
“Even better! It’ll be a big surprise!”
I hurried away before he said anything else. I knew he’d be suspicious, but I trusted him to not tell Harley I was there.
I picked her lock and let myself in. The moment I stepped into her apartment, her pet hyena sat up at attention, assessing the stranger that had just entered his home. I pulled the hamburger I had bought from the bag in my hand and offered it to the hyena. He raced over and excitedly gobbled down the food.
I knelt down to pet his coarse fur. “Good boy. I’ll take you in when I finish with this job.”
Luckily, I didn’t have to wait for her long. Shortly after my arrival, the sound of the doorknob turning alerted myself and her hyena that she was back. I pointed the gun as the door swung open. Her eyes widened when she saw me.
“Hello Harleen.”
Roman’s words - “I want a messy kill” - echoed through my head as I pulled the trigger. Harley quickly jumped to the side, just narrowly avoiding my bullet. She dove behind her couch and I continued to shoot bullets into it, causing feathers and fluff to fly into the air. Harley’s hyena let out a laugh-like bark that was drowned out by my gunshots. When my clip was empty, I quickly changed it to a full one.
Knowing that the gunshots would’ve alerted Harley’s landlord, I quickly crossed the room to her open door and closed it, locking the door and even breaking the knob a little for good measures. I wasn’t going to let this job bust, not with so much money on the line.
“Look, whatever Mista J did to you, I’m sorry!” Harley called from somewhere in the room. “Haven’t ya done your research? He brainwashed me! I only did what he said cause I thought I loved him!”
“Joker never did anything to me,” I told her. “I’m just here on someone else’s behalf.”
“That’s a long list to narrow down,” she responded. “Mind giving me a hint? Maybe an initial?”
I traced her voice to a desk that was turned to face me. This wouldn’t have normally been suspicious, if it weren’t for the fact that the desk was pushed right up against a wall, rendering it technically useless. In the small slit between the bottom of the desk and the floor, I could see Harley’s colorful shoes peaking out.
“Actually, I have a message from him,” I said. “Roman says ‘Good Riddence.”
She must’ve known I had found her, as, just before I pulled the trigger, Harley jumped up from under the desk, successfully launching it at me. The sudden movement startled me enough that my shot lodged itself in the ceiling instead of in her head.
“Oh, Romy!” Harley exclaimed. “Couldn’t even be bothered to come kill me himself? What hurts!”
She dove behind another plush chair as I took another shot at her. I exclaimed in frustration and went to approach the chair. Before getting close enough, Harley raised her hand, which was now holding the white t-shirt she had arrived in.
“Truce!” she called. “Just for one minute, give me a truce. And then you can decide if you want to continue with your killing. I won’t stop you, you ain’t the first to try and off me today.”
Against my better judgement, I sighed and shoved my gun back into the waistband of my pants. “You have five minutes to say your piece, Quinn. I have a lot of money on the line here.”
She popped up from behind the chair like a Whack-A-Mole. She was now in a plush, pink sports bra, her suspenders pulled over it now instead of the white t-shirt she was holding in her hand.
“I can’t blame you for wanting to cash in on a good paycheck,” she said. “I wanted to get a look at ya for a minute. You know, without the bullets and whatnot obstructing my view. I wanted to see if I recognized ya.”
“Why would you recognize me?”
“I frequent Romy’s club a lot. I think he only tolerated me because of Mista J, which would explain why he sent a hitwoman after me when I announced our breakup,” she explained. “You do look familiar. Do you frequent the club, too?”
“I don’t tend to talk with Roman about business in public. It’s not exactly the smartest move.”
“I suppose not, but I’m sure I’ve seen your face there before.” She thought for a moment before snapping her fingers. “Oh! I know! You were there the last time I was! I broke a dude’s legs and you were talking to Romy at the time!”
Oh wait, she’s right. I was there that night.
I could remember well: I had just finished a job. Roman had called me to his club for my payment. I guess he knew I wouldn’t lash out in front of all those witnesses when he stiffed me again. I was furious when he handed me less than half of what he had promised. That job had almost gotten me killed, but he viewed that as a failure. He told me he was debating not paying me at all, but knew I’d walk if that was the case.
His smug as smile as he walked away still infuriated me to that day. I wished I had punched him right in his stupid fucking face, made a scene in his club and announced to the world that Roman Sionis had hired a killer to take down the people he didn’t like. I’d go to prison if it meant Roman went with me.
“Man, you were angry,” Harley said, leaning her arms against the chair and resting her head in one of her hands. “What were ya talking about? Did a hit go wrong or something?”
“Nearly,” I responded, looking away from Harley so she wouldn’t see my anger again. “Listen, I gave you five minutes and they’re almost up, so maybe you should - ”
“He stiffed ya, didn’t he?” Harley cut me off. “I bet he does that a lot. He doesn’t exactly treat his female employees all that nicely. You heard the stories from that singer he has? The Canary? I can’t believe she quit working for him and made it out alive.”
She almost hadn’t. I had to save her ass from Roman that night. It was the night I almost walked out, too. The first time, anyways.
“He’s a misogynistic prick,” Harley hissed. “Thinks women are objects that should be beneath him. I don’t know why you let him treat you like dirt when you do all the dirty work for him. You should be the one stiffin’ him for cash!”
“It doesn’t work like that,” I told her. “Being the killer for hire for Roman Sionis, he has too much dirt on me. If I tried to leave, or if I did anything he didn’t like, he could ruin my life in a second. I’m stuck with him until I can know for sure that I’m safe.”
“How do you know you wouldn’t be safe with me?”
I scoffed at her question. “You’re wanted by everybody - every villain, every hero, and every regular pedestrian. You don’t have the Joker to protect you right now. You’re a walking target, being with you is the unsafest place to be.”
“Safer than with Roman Sionis,” she said. “Sure, I can’t pay you top dollar for killin’, but I like to get my hands bloody myself. I ain’t here for this hitman/hitwoman shit. You and I, we could do some serious damage together.”
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like her proposal. Even if it would land me in a world of danger, working with Harley Quinn was a lot better than having to work for Roman Sionis anymore.
“The two of us alone, no matter how powerful or how...psychotic, are not enough to go up against Roman,” I told her.
Harley smiled brightly, knowing that what I was saying was technically an acceptance to her invitation. “Way ahead of you sister! I’ve already recruited Romy’s ex-Canary, and that legendary Crossbow Killer. We’re puttin’ together our own little girl gang.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Sounds like you were prepared for this.”
“Let’s just say, you’re not the first person Romy has sent after me.”
I had a feeling there was a reason Roman didn’t warn me about the first person sent after Harley Quinn.
She approached me and threw an arm over my shoulder, as if we were magically best friends. I looked at her close proximity before looking back up at her smiling face. “I could kill you right now, you know.”
“I know, but you won’t,” she said. “We’re best friends now, and we’re gonna take down Roman Sionis together.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her as she said this.
#Harley Quinn#harley quinn x reader#harley quinn imagine#margot robbie#margot robbie imagine#margot robbie x reader#birds of prey#the emanciption of harley quinn#suicide squad#imagine#one shot#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom
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An interesting Life is Strange writing concept
I just recently stumbled across an interesting concept for Life is Strange in which Alex Chen was adopted by the Caulfield family and went to Blackwell with Max... and it got me thinking.
First, I need to say this outright. I am using this fanfiction's idea as a launching point for brainstorming of concepts and ideas. My ideas are no better or worse than the fanfiction. This other story is fantastic on its own and does not need my input and this is not a criticism of the story. Instead, it's an examination of a basic concept: What happens if Alex Chen were to be adopted by the Caulfield clan.
The first thing to consider is this: Alex is a psychic. She is predominantly empathic and can get flashes of thoughts when emotions are intense enough and/or she focuses on what that person is thinking. So... this has caused a number of fostering situations to fall through.
Interestingly enough, there is a point when the Caulfield clan could have taken in Alex before this became an issue... and that's when Alex was 11 and first put into the foster care system. Foster parents are actually given a stipend to help pay for the financial expenses behind caring for a child, and in theory that could have been enough money to keep Ryan and Vanessa from moving out of Arcadia Bay.
But let's say that they actually adopted Alex (and thus potentially forfeited that financial boon). Would they adopt Alex and abandon Gabe to the system? Would we have two kids becoming Max's big brother and kid sister?
In this situation, Chloe would obviously know that Max has siblings now. And what's more, I cannot help but think that Alex, with her burgeoning psychic abilities, would push Max to either stay in contact or get back in contact with Chloe.
Okay, let's change things up. Alternative Reality #2 had the Chen family uproot themselves as Alex's father looked for employment. He ended up working at the docks in Seattle but losing his job when the incident happens that resulted in Social Services putting Alex and Gabe in the foster system. Alex languishes in a foster care system that is not good. Gabe ends up in Juvie. And when Alex was 14, she ends up fostered to the Caulfield family.
At this point, it's 2011. Max has been out of contact with Chloe for several years. She is pining though. And Alex, with psychic nerves rubbed raw, likely has come across several instances of this. Max, being the sort of person who hates causing a commotion, would not tell her parents about any weirdness and indeed if her parents were getting weirded out likely would come to Alex's defense. So after a small waiting period you end up having Alex adopted by the Caulfield clan... with emerging psychic powers but a family that is far more comforting and caring than the foster care system.
Alex knows how much Max misses Chloe. Yes, it's been a couple of years. But Alex herself has had friends in the foster care system that she has fallen out of touch with, others that ditched her, and she likely knows what it's like to be abandoned. Alex likely would push Max to get back in touch with Chloe early on.
I can't help but think that Max would succumb to Alex's good-intended urging on this. So Max contacts Chloe. She sends a text.
Let's say that Rachel intercepted the text. She blocks Max's number. Chloe doesn't need that drama in her life. (Bad enough that Joyce is constantly bringing up Max, and Chloe is having trouble letting her go. It's better this way. Sometimes you have to move on. Jealousy has nothing to do with this.)
Or maybe David confiscated Chloe's phone and blocked the number and deleted the text because Chloe doesn't need old friends when he's trying to break down this young soldier to rebuild into a productive member of society according to his military mindset (HA!) and Rachel's innocent in this.
Alex wouldn't just let this drop. Anyone who's played True Colors knows how stubborn our young lady is. And she's driven by psychic powers as well that are blossoming under a more loving home. Wouldn't Alex follow up with her own text? And Rachel or David likely wouldn't intercept every text or block her as well. Hell, she might go for broke and call Joyce. And Joyce sure as blazes would make sure that Chloe knew Max was contacting her. (And that Max has a sister now.)
So Chloe is now in touch with Max. The roadblocks are quite important because if Rachel blocked Max's number, then this is going to cause a bit of a blowup that weakens Chloe and Rachel's relationship, while if David were the culprit then Joyce is going to have words with him (as she loves Max and sees her as not only a second daughter but a stabilizing influence).
Of course, there is always possibility 3 - neither David nor Rachel tried to block Max's efforts to contact Chloe and that went off without a hitch but where's the fun in that? XD
Anyway, Alex would be urging Max to remain in touch with Chloe. She would also likely notice that Max is crushing hard on Chloe and may very well push Max down that path. And given that Rachel was flirting with other people... well, Max being back in Chloe's life could do one of two things - either draw Rachel closer into Chloe's circle out of jealousy, or give Rachel reason to push Chloe toward Max and do her own thing while remaining friends with Chloe.
I like Rachel. I can't help but think it would be #2, especially given what we know about Rachel from the original Life is Strange. She cared deeply for Chloe and didn't want to hurt her. So... yes, I can see Rachel helping encourage Chloe to let bygones be bygones and to pursue her own romantic leanings toward Max. We'd have shippers on either end pushing the two together (Alex pushing Max and Rachel pushing Chloe).
It might even be amusing and interesting to see Rachel and Chloe drive up to Seattle to meet Max and for Rachel in that situation to meet the mysterious Alex Chen who she's been texting and possibly flirting with on the phone. (Amberchen? Hmmm...)
One other thing that is likely to happen is that Max would be a stabilizing influence on Chloe's life. She is a pressure valve even as Rachel was more of an instigator. So with Max urging Chloe to focus more on school, we may very well see Chloe starting to apply herself more to her classes. And if Chloe doesn't get kicked out of high school then David has one less thing to rail against Chloe with.
Rachel and Chloe would graduate a year before Max would (and two years before Alex). With Max back in Chloe's life, and a new friendship growing between Alex and Rachel? Then we may very well see Rachel less desperate for an escape because now there is a plan. Go to college with Chloe up in Seattle. Sure, it's not California but there are other advantages to the region (including legal weed!) and having good friends there would be reason enough. She escapes Jeffershit's death trap by never getting close to him. Nor does she get close to Frank. Similarly, Max has no reason to go to Blackwell because Chloe is coming to Seattle!
And Alex? Alex gets a home life that is far more loving than what she went through in the original timeline. And she has good friends... which will be useful when on October 13, 2013 a truly nasty storm strikes Arcadia Bay, wiping out most of the town and killing hundreds of people including the student body of Blackwell Academy. Because fate is a fickle bitch and Chloe Price wasn't dying as a sacrifice in a bathroom in Blackwell Academy. But you know? While Chloe, Rachel, and Max grieve... Max never blames herself for something outside of her control, and the girls never went through the horrors of the original Life is Strange.
Well done, Alex! You saved the day once again! ^^ And amusingly enough, when Max, Chloe, and Rachel go with Alex to meet her brother Gabe, Max is on hand to witness Gabe's death, her powers emerge, and she saves Alex's brother... but that is a different story. ;)
#alex chen#max caulfield#chloe price#rachel amber#life is strange#lis#life is strange: true colors#lis: true colors#lis: tc#alternate universe
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Scottrospective: Scott Pilgrim Gets It Together! or Days of Summer
Hello all you happy scottaholics! Welcome back to those of you who’ve read the rest of this retrospective and welcome to those of you just joining us. This is the Scottrospective, my look at all 6 volumes of Scott Pilgrim, the game and the movie. It’s all the video game refrenes, slice of life story telling and boob punches you can handle!
It’s been three months since I left off with “The Infinite Sadness” , and while I intended to cover this one for Valentine’s Day, my schedule got away from me and with March being full up, this ended taking till April
I”m not too put off by it though as the hiatus between these two reviews is fitting for this one both in story and out. In story there’s a couple month time skip between books, while out.. this book got delayed a few times.
This is notable to me at least because this was the first volume of the series I bought when it came out. As i’ve brought up before I came into the series via the Free Comic Book Day Issue and the second and third volumes, picking one up later. I still have my original copies despite no longer really needing them thanks to having the color editions in general. Always will provided something dosne’t happen to them. So this was my first instalment that I got to read fresh and got to wait for and be hyped about and i’d saved enough money that I was able to pre-order it. So the experince of waiting and waiting for the book only to keep seeing it slide back is vivid in my mind as is the frustration I felt having the one thing I COULD NOT WAIT FOR, keep going further and further back.
So with this long wait and the fact I bought this one when it came out, as I would for the next two which didn’t get delayed thank god, this volume naturally means a lot for me. When I wrote Scott Pilgrim fanfiction, this volume’s status quo is what I based it on. It was the coolest to me and the one I loved to reread the most. It has the most contained story, the most character growth at the time, and the best art due to Bryan’s style having finally hit it’s stride. Not that the art for volumes 1-3 is bad mind you, but it’s very clear his style was changing and shaping into what it is now with each one and while it’d change a bit more, this volume is where the style and quality everyone thinks of when they think of this series and the kind you see on various art done from it comes from.
So as you can tell i’m excited for this one. Before we get started there WERE two shorter comics released between this one both for Free Comic Book day, the first of which, Free Scott Pilgrim, is the reason I got into the series and the second, the Wonderful World of Kim Pine .. was both delightful and sets up Kim moving in with Hollie for this volume. Originally I intended to cover these in this review.. but I realized they wouldn’t of helped the pacing and this review is going to be way longer than my standard as is.
So instead I came up with the compromise. I did review them.. but as bonus reviews on my patreon. For just one buck a month you can read them and help me reach my stretch goals which now include reviews of Lost at Sea, Seconds and SnotGirl, aka Bryan’s OTHER comics. You can find my patreon THROUGH THIS LINK HERE if your intrested in the exclusives or helping me reach my reviews. I also intend to do an exclusive of Monica Beetle, a short comic Bryan did starring Scott’s dad in the 70s at some point so keep your eyes peeled for that, as well as the three strips he did of Style, the comic that gave us the prototypes for Lisa and Kim.
I will talk about their connections and setups for this volume briefly: FSP sets up the next ex as a ninja, with Roxy having a bunch of posters come to live and pummel our boy, while Wonderful World has Hollie tell Kim she can move in with her. It’s not much, hence why i made these exclusives but they are good stories, so check them out. And with that JOIN ME UNDER THE CUT, as we enter Scott’s world once more as he grapples with the past, employment, and saying the L-Word... which might be Lesbians. I don’t know. Find out bellow!
So we open Two Months after Volume 3 with a beach birthday party! Complete with Kim in a swim suit!
But it’s for Julie who lobs a volley ball at Scott’s head when he and Ramona try to make out.
I also dont’ know if “Manfiesting out of all the world’s collectives sorrows” counts as a “birth” necessarily but whatever. I love a good beach story. It’s just a fun setitng for swimming, romance and battling a giant crab with the help of the bird what lives in your backpack.
So after the beach our heroes get dinner and Ramona sweetly calls Scott the nicest guy she’s ever dated. He responds with “That’s sad”. Blunt, but entirely accruate. Julie calls it pathetic and tries to counter Ramona RIGHTFULLY saying “who the hell asked you?” something that really should come after EVERYTHING Julie said with “Back off bitch i’ts my birthday”
So later that night Sex Bomb-Omb has a beach sing along, and I can’t help but notice Neil’s hairy legs.
I mean yes it does make since for a 19 year old to have leg hair, but of all the characters besides Stephen, the ONLY other character we’ve seen it with to give it to, why the character you specifically single out as “Young” it’s just a weird choice I never noticed before.
But anyways Julie has to whine about it because she’s Julie, she can’t stand other people being happy and complains the song...
One of my faviorite moments of the series. Knives puts a nicer spin on it, she’s here too and not over with Neil because, as we’ll find out later they broke up, but she just asks if Knives should be drinking. She shouldn’t but for fucks sake lady she was just trying to talk. I also do like that despite Julie trying to control Ramona’s love life, you know the thing the VILLIANS are doing, Ramona cannot stand her now.. and honestly probably never did.
But Julie, SOMEHOW turns out to be right for once as Kim and Knives have disappeared later that night, and Scott elects to go look for them. Also Ramona says she wants to marry kim while drunk after Julie asks if she does. The throuple is strong with these three... serioulsy that’s my one true pairing for all three now. I mean it ballances out their collective flaws, it’s cute and Ramona is just as into her boyfriends ex as she is her actual boyfriend even when she’s not hamered. Why the fuck not?
Scott instead finds the two making out. I will confess I shipped these two when I was younger.. but I don’t. Not because their gay or anything or because I found another ship for them but because the age gap is still just as wide as it was for Scott. The game did not get this memo and made them a couple which is... ehhhhhhhhh. I mean I wouldn’t mind either being bi, but it just brings up the same problems even if their both hammered. I also question why this scene exists. No really outside of one face punchingly dickish comment from Scott later, this never comes up again and it doesn’t effect Kim’s or Knives character any. Why have this? it’s clearly not fanservice, it’s just a thing that happened. And while Scott Pilgrim as a series does have some of those, as does life and that’s fine.. this is a bit too major, i.e. Kim and Knives, two of the main cast, making out, drunkenly or not, to just.. gloss over you know? I feel Kim would feel majorly guilty for this, as she has the most active moral compass of the main group, and Knives would be massively confused but it’s just.. forgotten because I dunno. In a story that’s otherwise pretty stellar this stands out as an utter waste of potential. I’m not saying have them hook up, gay or not it’s still not better than what Scott did, but have them at least talk about it and have both grow or something from it. Sheesh.
So we cut to.. another day. Maybe the next day I dunno but it’s August. Point is Scott and Wallace are grocery shopping and Wallace notes they can’t get fancy mayo as their barely in budget. I would’ve glossed over this scene... but @panur
pointed out back around the Infinite Sadness review that this scene reveals something very intrestng: Scott.. is kind of a fincial burdern to Wallace. Before this while Scott mooched off him it wasn’t all that clear that Wallace was struggling.
But here we notice that outside of some Havarti, it’s just the simplest stuff imaginable: turkey, bread, boxed mac and cheese ramen noodles... it’s nto BAD stuff, I have all of that in my house and it’s good stuff... but it’s not the kind of thing that you need to carefully budget for. Now granted part of this probably is Wallace as he likely spends a LOT on drinks, condoms and two 2 liters of diet soda a day.. but while he really needs to adress his alcohol issues, the rest is fair. He should be allowed to have as much sex and diet coke as he wants it’s his money. Same with the havarti. He earned it if he wants some really delcious cheese with herbs, seriously Havarati is the best, then that’s his bidness. But the rest of the time he’s barely managing to get a basketfull of cheap food.. because he has to provide for Scott. It’s clearly something Scott dosen’t get and something I can relate to not getting. It took me a while to get how hard it is to budget for a full family, let alone two people on one income like Wallace has to. But Wallace is working on a nice job... but still a call center or something. He can’t pay for everything and the finccial stress is about to give as their landlord wants to meet with them. And as we’re about to learn things were even worse than we thought.
Our heroes head home where we get a truly iconic conversation when, over margeritas (again proving my point that while Scott certainly isn’t HELPIGN wallace’s finacials, it’s not all on him)
This will be imporant later.. both the Lesbians part and Scott’s struggle saying it. he tried earlier on the beach but couldn’t get it out and Ramona clearly didn’t want to hear it as she kapt sshhhhing him.. playfully of course but still.
So some time later it’s moving day! Kim is moving into Hollie and Josephs, and Scott, Stephen and Jason are helping. You might be wondeirng who the hell Jason is. He’s Kim’s boyfriend. I do not likes him. Not because he’s kim’s boyfriend, getting upset because a fictional character you fancy is dating is just patently stupid. I’ts like getting upset a celebrity crush is in a relationship: you had no chance anyway why. I wasn’t even bothered as a kid. I don’t really like him.. because he has no real personaliy and no real baring on the plot and I struggle to think why Bryan included him other than for a really annoying plot twist next time, which does not help my liking him knowing what’s coming.
But while our heroes help our heroine move in, and Scott is suprised Hollie is there despite Kim having told him a minute ago she was moving in with her, something I can relate to sadly, we get something vitally plot important; Stephen passes Joseph’s room.. and notices he has a small recording setup in his room. Stephen quickly begs him to record the band’s album and Joseph agrees if only because he finds Stephen hot. Eh i’ve seen better relationships start on less, fair enough. And yes I said relationship more on that in a bit.
So after a brief scene of Scott and Ramona having lunch where Scott fails to know her age and when Ramona says he could just ask.. hea sks and she dosen’t tell, not a bad scene character wise just not very plot important and probably should’ve bene swapped in order with the previous scene, we get to the next day. There’s a heat wave so Wallace orders Scott to go to the mall maybe find a job. He emphasises that.
Instead Scott just sorta bums around thirst but nto having any money.. until an old face shows up.
For those who forgot like Scott has, it’s Lisa Miller from the Volume 2 flashback, the girl who had a crush on Scott and was close friends with him and Kim. After a tackle hug and some panic Scott eventually remembers.... if in a curiously unique and self serving way
At the time this was just hilarous. Now it’s very clear foreshadowing for the big twist in Volume 6. The two catch up while Scott is very clearly attracted to her but very clearly dosen’t want to be, with Lisa wondering where kim is, finding about Ramona, etc, before offering Scott lunch as the two catch up and Scott is very conflicted about how he feels. It’s nice visual stuff as he’s blushing, something more clear in the color version and trying to desperatley sort things out. As for why Lisa’s here she’s moving to the states soon, but is staying with her sister for now.
So after an incdental scene with Wallace we catch up with Knives, who has broken up with Neil. And after some talk about Clash at the Demonhead, Tamra notes Knives apparently put a big x on her shrine of Scott... which baffles Knifves as she sure as hell didn’t do it and is still, sadly, obessed with Scott as ever. Granted Tamra isn’t at all helpful here claiming she did it even when she says she didn’t, is clearly confused and while yes we don’t know who else would care Tams, that just makes it all the more creepy. Stop gaslighting your bestie, she’s already got enoguh issues. She dosen’t need thinking she might have a split personality on top of the stalking, obession over a guy who has no intrest in loving her back, and attempted stabbings. Knives dosesn’t get a ton of focus in this one sadly. She kind of takes a back seat, and while sh’es not GONE from the volumle and someone close to her does impact it, she dosen’t really have any personal progression, negative or positive, like she does in every other volume, a shame since her personal jouney is one of the most intresting of the main cast.
Anyways that night Scott hangs out with Lisa, having not gotten around to telling Ramona she exists yet and plays a game of find the Kim Pine. She goes to Neil’ and Stephen’s place for practice, but finds no one there and Neil being a dick... get used to that it’s going to get about 80 times worse soon enough. Though we do get this classic panel i’ve gotten some use out of
He goes to Kim’s place, but she , Hollie and Satan’s Misterss have all left to Sneaky Dee’s, the local mexican place, for something to eat and Stephen is either high or doing.. something with Joseph.
Yeah i’m not hiding that Stephen turns out to be gay in the final volume or cheating on Bitch and a Half with Joseph. And even if I hate Julie with the power of a frozen sun, I still dont’ think cheating on her is kosher. He could’ve just broken up with her and while part of it was likely confusion, and he could also be bi and not decided which one he wanted to be with, it’s still a dick move.. and later makes him a hypocrite but that’s a rant for next volume.
So our heroes FINALLY find Kim, along with Hollie and Mouthface. And a nice thing I like is that Kim and Lisa are just.. increidbly close, happily catching up and making plans to hang before Lisa leaves, that despite Lisa having feelings for Scott the two ended up as close and She and Scott did and i’ts sweet to see. it’s also just.. rare to see Kim GENUINELY happy. I mean look at her
It’s not like she HASN’T smiled across the series but normally she’s just so miserable, likely because her best friends are a grumbly asshole who forces them to hang out with a raging typhoon of bitchiness, and an insenitive asshat who she never got closure with. This is the first decent human being whose not Ramona or Hollie, and that last one’s not going to last, in a while. It’s genuinely sweet to just see her.. enjoy the moment for once, honestly engaged with someone. Ramona shows up and finally meets Lisa, who apparently was on Degrassi.. I mean she says candaian show no one ever watched, and I watched that plenty but i’d like to think she was on there for a season or two. I liked Degrassi.. I honeslty miss it and think it could use some form of revivial and think porting it to netflix was a smart decision.. what wasn’t so smart was not having the other seasons leading into it on there. Need to watch more of it.
So the next day Ramona stumbles into Scott’s dreams and both are annoyed, with Ramona suggesting he get a job. This finally gets him to try. He asks about Wallace’s work but understandably, he dosen’t really want scott there and asks if he even knows. So Scott sets out to ask his other friends for jobs, while Knives shows up saying she’s “totally not stalking him” but someone is following HER, a mysterious spiky haired dude in a black leather jacket, shades and with a sword on his back. Whu-oh.
He tries Second Cup, with Julie annoyed that Stephen’s recording.. it’s hard to tell if she’s annoyed because she’s a bitch or because Stephen is both gneuinely annoying right now and clearly screwing around behind her back. My take?
But Scott realizes maybe getting a job at his Sister’s place of work who also works with his arch enemy might be stupid and backs out. He next tries Kim’s, but backs out of that too, admitting to kim it’d be stupid and Kim lists off all the reasons (His lack of resume, the fact them working together would be stresful and his ountain of late fees) why that’d be stupid, but in a jovial way. For once i’ts clear that while she’s still taking the piss out of them she isn’t mad at Scott.
In fact she genuinely helps him get a job, taking him to Stephen’s work since hers is dead right now anyway, a vegan place. While Scott naturally compares things to a job system as he’d start as dishwasher while Stephen taught him prep, Scott agrees to genuinely take this seriously and Stephen’s boss decides “eh why not” when he asks her to employ him. Scott is gainfully employed baby! God I miss that. Seriously i’m not pimping my patreon for shits and giggles.
But as he celebrates and Kim wishes she could punch his life in the face, they run into some trouble on the way home: Katana man who slices a motherfucking bus in half and chases them, with Scott reluctnat to fight because he has a sword and Scott does not, which is valid. He does escape though using subspace. He and Kim part awkardly and he returns home to Wallace throwing a party with two intresting charcters, a woman and a man of color, one of the few in the entire work, who are never seen again.
The next night is practice.. or rather recording, and we start to see Neil get edged out, with him unable to come due to exams and clearly not happy about it, and Stephen just kind of ignoring anything he cares about like the dickhead he is. It dosen’t get any better as “recording” ends up just being Scott, Ramona, and Ratfaced Knacker watching bored with Joseph and Stephen work. Eventaully Scott and Ramona decide to get out of there as things are getting tensed between thing one and thing bitch, and leave.. and take Julie with them for some reason.
So the three have dinner with Lisa, Kim, and Jason before The Mummies Curse thankfully leaves. Jason thought they were friends.
We also get this exchange.
I mean.. she is the better option. She his THE option. But before we can get the obvious answer of
Stephen comes in with Knives. He smuggled her in. This leads to problems when Scott returns from the bathroom to find Queen Bitch throwing a bitch fit about him having brought her and screechs at her when she dares to talk to him “How do you even know my name?” Well Ted Cruz, you see when someone is an actually thoughtful and likes other people, they keep track of things about them and don’t constnatly tear them down or assume their partneer is automatically bonking a 17 year old instead of you know, actually forming something of a friendship and not shutting her out sensing she needs this friend group. Some people are not vacous piles of vitriol who care about nothing but themself and seem to go off at the slightest thing.
Scott takes Ramona home but finds a drunken barely awake wallace so no sexy times. Not that he could anyway as the next day is the meeting with Peter their landlord.
Peter reveals they’ll have to clear out by the 27th as their lease was for one year and their paid up.. as in only the first and last month. The two part melacholy knowing this sucks and isn’t a great situation. Then it’s time for Scott to work work, angelica, work work, eliza and peggy. After grueling day, can relate, he runs into a wisp on teh wend and steels himself for a fight.. okay he bitches about it being too hot but it’s Scott. so it’s expected. He does get a hit in on his mysterious persuer.. and that’s when we meet Roxy.
Via boob punch, something Scott’s not proud of but in his defense, as Roxy keeps complaning about it, he was blindly struggling for a hit and din’t know the next Ex, or any of them, were female.. not that Ramona didn’t suggest it loudly enough by empahsising “exes” but scott’s a bit of a fuckwit. She mentions “everyone allways remmebers you”.. which is kind of ominus and tells me she tried to hook back up with ramona despite her having a boyfriend and she rejected her. Still on good terms though. But this confusing encounter ends with Roxy vowing she’ll get him next time gadget, next time.
So we get some assorted slice of life scenes with the band, lisa and what have you as Scott tries to get in touch with Ramona but she keeps avoiding him. THat’s not worrysome at all. And Lisa brings up high school while drunk and clearly hits on Scott. He sidesteps it with her drunkness.. but this clearly isn’t over or going to stop being a problem.
Speaking of problems Wallace makes Scott confront the truth: He either needs to find a new place to live or commit to staying, though Wallace is trying to nudge him toward asking Ramona to move into her place. Scott starts thinking it over, it being very hard especially since, as Stephen points out this was his very first place of his own.. but Stephen also points out these things are temoporary.. right before Scott ducks from katana guy.
At work Scott wonders who it could be, though it turns out Stephen’s met him before, as he’s brought his family in here. So he’s PROBABLY not one of the exes.. but it leaves the question why he wants to cut Scott in half like Dewey Cox’s brother. But it turns out he’s nto the only enemy Scott’s casually running into as Roxy is there too.. with Ramona.
The two talk, clearly about Scott and Lisa with Roxy trying to convince her he’s cheating and Ramona rightfully trusting Scott: while he IS attracted to her, he’s been fighting it every step of the way. Scott storms over to find out what’s going on and while Ramona is more distracted by his new job, she eventually realizes Roxy did attack him and he simply dscribed her poorly when he mentioned the incident over the phone. Scott is confused as he dosen’t get it. Is she with one of the exes what? After some hiinting from both parties, and Roxy rightfully mocking him for not getting the obvious... he finallyg ets it in the grandest way possible.
So Roxy gets ready to fight and Scott can’t because sword, and gets fired in the background as he hides in Ramona’s bag and Ramona prepares to step in. Roxy screams at her for trusting him and defending him when Ramona.. just dosen’t her boyfriend to be bisected by her ex. A fight insues and a damn cool one at that. I honestly wish the movie had taken more from this, but simply didn’t have time leading it to instead be more like the envy fight with a bit of the Winfried Hailey fight from Free Scott Pilgrim.
Roxy chases her and Ramona rightly points out Scott can’t run forever but takes him into Subspace.. where Roxy heads them off, having “taught you everything you know bitch” leading to a cool fight in the wintery version of subspace. Again why THIS wasn’t used instead I have no real idea. We also find out she’s a half ninja but she eventually leaves afer Ramona presses that button.. but Rammy is actually apologetic about it and Roxy’s “I hope you and your 24 children are happy together comment” is telling.
Upon this readthrough of the volume.. I realized Roxy is the most layered and intresting of the exes next to Gideon himself. None of them are out and out terrible, but most of them have pretty simple motives: to kill Scott, ???, profit. Or in Todd’s case to kill scott, bang around and be a dick. But Roxy.. genuinely wants Ramona back. She’s the ONLY one who does: Gideon kinda does, but only in the sense that he wants her for his collection. But Roxy geninely still loves her, admitting so during this fight. And it’s not like she has no chance: out of the 7 exes she’s the ONLY one who parted with Ramona on anything resembling good terms. While intrestingly we don’t find out WHY they broke up, Ramona didn’t cheat on her like she did everyone else she was with. The two have coffee and hang out and Ramona geninely dosen’t even consider until Roxy tries to attack Scott that she’d really try killing him and tries her best to talk her out of it. But what holds Roxy back is her anger: She’s so bitter about the fact Ramona is bi or pan, so dedicated to viewing Ramona’s very orintation as a betryal (though Ramona calling it a phase dosen’t help and the movie RIGHTLY has Roxie comment on it and fly into a rage over it), and so driven to make sure the woman she loves dosen’t get hurt again that it blinds her to the fact Ramona dosen’t love her the same way anymore, and that while Scott is objectively a dick, and a cheater, and a greasy buttcrack pooflap, he is not a terrible person. A meh one sure, but he’s got good to him. She’s so biophobic she simply can’t see he’s a harmless moron.. well harmless to Ramona even with the cheating. He’s killed two people at this point and will kill again. Also she apparently has issues with only being a half ninja but this is never adressed. Point is Roxy’s really grown on me and is now probably my faviorite ex.
Scott and Ramona talk it over on their way to Sneaky Dees and Scott finally asks to move in and gets a yes. His response is downright adorable.
So at Sneaky Dee’s Young Neil is just a bit absolutely irate with Scott.. which isn’t fair as them not playing things is entirely on the blocky face asshole. Yell at him.. which he does, pointing out that they haven’t played shows in forever, and that the lady who owns Sneaky Dees not only runs shows, in the upstairs space, but has been asking them to play. Kim is rightly curious about this and to both Stephen just keeps saying “We’re recording right now.” And some of you may of wondered why I hate him. Well while he’s not exctly stellar in the first half in the second Stephen becomes goddman insufferable, slowly destroying the band for his affair and not giving one iota of a shit what anyone else wants. He’s a selfish, egomanical cheating prick. And yes I get it their recording an album.. but doing live shows would give them extra practice, MONEY, even if likely not a lot and exposure for said album. I get professoinal bands stop touring for a bit to do an album but you are not a professional band, and said bands still often iron out the album on the road. God you suck.
But while Scott sidesteps this argument he walks into another where Ramona confronts him about lisa about liking her.. and he rightly says if there was anything, which there was not it’s in the past. And while yes he is a cheater, she does not know this yet. This plot honestly would’ve worked better if she learned about the knives thing sooner, but instead she just comes off as paranoid for listening to Roxy about something that isn’t happening. Yes Scott’s been shown to be attracted to her.. but he’s been ashamed of it, fighting it and in denial about it, and is clealry all in with Ramona. Being attracted to someone else on a phsyical level does NOT mean your relationship is doomed.
Things get worse as he goes home to ruminate.. and instead sees a man’s Penis. And Wallace..is at his second most unsymapthetic, not letting Scott get a shirt or a bus pass or something like a decent human being for no goddamn reason. Usually when Wallace is a dick to Scott, Scott’s earned it and badly needs a slap in the face. Here he’s just being a prick because.. the plot needs him to? I dunno it dosen’t work for me. It’s in character, I just don’t have to like it.
So with no other options.. Scott ends up at Lisa’s. And so we get the last temptation of Scott. Lisa admits, embarassed that she’s been wearing sexy dresses and what not specifically to attract him, with Scott also mentioning how things are rough, Lisa tries to fight it herself pointing out he’s with ramona.. and when Scott points out they didn’t do anything in the past Lisa points out they should’ve.. and maybe they should now.
We fade to black as Scott ends up in a dream and finds Roxy, who naturally has the same skill and tries to Freddy Kruger him before he wakes. He finds Lisa but they didn’t do anything: Scott pushed her away and babbled about how much he loved Ramona instead. As i’ve said.... his heart was never with LIsa... and even when he was so close to giving in he couldn’t. It’s a tangible sign of growth: He screwed around on Knives with Ramona, and given how bad things were getting with Ramona, it would be oh so easy to once again ditch a relationship the minute he found something else and oh so understandable. But... he dosen’t. He loves Ramona even if he hasn’t said it, he wants to make this work, and he’s changed. She’s changed him. He’s not quite a good man yet.. bu he’s getting to be good enough. Love turned him from a skeezy dumbass into a far more loveable dumbass. Ramona’s gotten him to stop dating a teenager (even if again he cheated), face his past with envy to finally move on and now get a job. He’s realized just hwo much she means to his life and world and so he goes to tell her.
Riggghtttt after going to get his job back and works a shift, with steven wanting to punch his life in the balls. Stephen shut the fuck up. Just because Scott is lucky and your stuck dating satan’s scrotum does not mean you get to punch his life int he balls. Kim does, because he’s put her through more shit but not you.
He goes to second cup to talk to Stacey.. only to end up at the wrong one where Knives also now has a job... and we finally get an answer to who the mystery katana guy is...
Yup turns out wielding giant weapons in vengance runs in the family. As for how he knows about Scott her aunt mentioned her boyfriend, everyone freaked out and obviously while her mom was mentioned as knowing in volume 1, they did not tell her dad whose brain turned into an engine of vengance and defaced the shrine. While part of it is apparnetly racisim for Scott being white the fact is he clearly saw Scott’s photograph. The guy is 5 years older. I get him being protective. Still dosen’t justify cutting off his head. His balls maybe but not his head.
And then Scott ran, once agian finding a subspace entracne.. and this time we see inside ramona’s head and well...
Yeah.. that’s.. kind of fucked, and Ramona isn’t happy scott saw that, though she backs down once Scott explains..a nd then gets upset over him staying at Lisa’s but before SCott can tell her he loves her it turns out Roxy stayed over. So yeah, Ramona might of cheated, she tells him to alk it off and he runs around in a psycadelic haze of emtoinal confusion. And meets.. someone new...
Scott snaps out of his funk and ignores his doppleganger heading back for Ramona... whose fighting Mr. Chau. Scott left the door to Ramona’s head open and he followed him through Subspace. Scott lures him into the house and away from her only to run into Roxy. This leads to both of his attackers fighting and her wondering if Gideons ent him “Why does no one ever belivie in me?!”
She soon realize no i’ts just unrelated and calls Scotto ut on hiding behind not having a sword and behind her being a woman, caling it a flimsy excuse. I mean she’s tring to kil lhim. It’s okay to hit an enemy combatant. Scott realizes he has to stop running... and get real with ramona leading to a truly epic, romantic and heartfelt speech and given how far he’s come and just how heartfelt it is it’s a real sign of how deep he feels. Sure we’ve seen genuine chemstiry between the two.. but htis moment is a shit.. from a simple relationship.. into true love.
I may of only had a few but Relationships are not easy, They take work, they take time, they take patience and theyt ake love.. but if your willing to work with someone, look past some flaws and help them with the rest.. then it’s worth it. And Scott has finally realized it and for the first time in a while is running TOWARDS something difficult, actually working on this relationship and talking with his partner instead of running finding someone else or wallowing. He’s truly grown up. While he still has miles to go.. he’s taken about 50 steps forward with this. And as such given the kind of unvierse we’re in, as Ramona is genuinely touched by it he levels up a glowing sword with a heart shaped hilt coming out of his chest.. and realizing what’s happening he pulls it out....
So Scott faces off with roxy and in an awesomly short battle, their sords clash.. and he bisects her.
Scott then honestly talks down Mr Chau who leaves after a nod, and Ramona tells Scott she loves him two. The two make out and all is well.
One make out fades into another, as we cut to Scott moving in with Kim and Blockhead’s help. Well kinda they only had one box but they owed him one. He and wallace comiserate over the end of their time as roomies. They’ll always be friend but it’s truly the end of an era. Also Wallace gets off another bit of dickery as he’’s very glad it all worked out for scott...
Now there’s the Wallace I know and love. Dickish but just the right loveable kind of douchebag with that swagger.
Back at Knives house she’s apparenlty into somebody though who I have no idea, Mr Chau give sher his blessing and she.. apparenlty doesen’t know chinese. I dunno. As I said her subplot this go round was her weakest overall.
And so we end with the whole gang gathered to see Lisa off. It’s a REALLY nice shot, and one of the only times Wallace is seen with the Sex Bomb omb side of the group. Oh sure he goes to their shows and what not, but generally their never in the same vincinity so while there’s no interaction I still find this neat. Seriously the whole main cast is there, it’s a really lovely shot
Also Jason and Hollie.. who are getting awfully chummy. Whu Oh. And of course Craphole and Mouth Face are as likeable as ever.
So we jsut get a genuinely nice sene. Except Stephen and Julie reconciling. Fuck that. Please move on. And as everyone fondly wishes Lisa adeu and wish she stuck arond the res tof the series we end on Scott and Ramona snuggling, Scott asking her her birthday and finding out she’s 24, and they both will be come september. Scott wishes this moment could last.
They probperly snuggle as the volume ends on a high.
Final Thoughts:
Yeah.. Gets it Together is, on rexamination, DEFINTELY my faviorite of the 6. Besides personal value i’ts hte best contained story, contaning lots of character development, great character moments, jokes, and EASILY the best art so far, with goregouness and creativty abounding.
There is a problem here or there: Stephen and Julie’s subplot feels underbaked, and not just because I hates them, and there are several scenes that don’t further plot or character stuff. Ther’es also stuff that could’ve been expanded on.. but given this is still a pretty meaty graphic novel, it’s understandable why it wasn’t.. though it is why I’d love a streaming series since while the movie is excellent, a full series could expand on stuff from the books more Brian simply didn’t have time for. Knives also didn’t get a lot to do.
But their drowned out by tons of great decisions: Lisa was a wonderful additoin to the cast and I genuinely wish she’d stuck around, adding in some energy, blending well with the Sex Bomb Omb crowd, and having great dynamics with everyone and her arc with Scott is heartbreaking,knowing she can’t have him but wanting him anyway having never gottne proper closure on the man she’s always wanted. She’s a heartbreaking character and its nice to see her end in a decent place and on good terms with Scott, having let him go for both thier sakes.
And while Lisa is a highlight everyone is on their a game here for the most part apart from knives, girl hitler, and captain dumbass: Scott grows signfigantly but is funny as hell, Wallace has an intresting arc trying to nudge Scott out without being overt about it, scared to really confront him, Kim is in a happy and serene place for once and it shows. The villians are also intresting: While Mr Chau is a tad underbaked, he’s sitll a cool imposing presence. I do think he shoudl’ve had more to do with the plot.. but is still just so freaking cool it papers over that and him just.. disappearing after this like poor Lisa.
Roxy is far more intresting, having clearly more going on than we see and while I wish we’d got her backstory, she’s easily the most engaging of the exes, being the only one to actively compete with Scott (All her and ramona end up doing is making out a little it turned out), and have bigger stakes than just “The glasses wearing douche asked me to beat up my exes boyfriend and I was like alright.
All in all Gets it Together is really magical, the series high point, and just damn fun and it was a pleasure to go through
Next Month on Scott Pilgrim: It all falls down as we take a look into what once was my least faviorite Album, vs the unvierse. Two perfect assholes try and murder scott with Robutts, his relationship and band crumble and things get sad so very very sad.
Next on this blog: More LIlo and Stitch! The Proud Family come to Kauai and get into a fight with our heroes. Also wizard kelly... who if nothing else is now far more tolerable now i’ve had to spend another volume with the wicked bitch of the west. Touche universe touche. See you at the next rainbow.
#scott pilgrim#ramona flowers#wallace wells#roxanne richter#knives chau#stephen stills#julie power#mr chau#stacey pilgrim#neil nordgraf#young neil#comics#oni press#scotrospective#lisa miller#kim pine#jospeh
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A sharp knife and a broken heart (TUA)
Hi y’all
with the new season on the way i thought i should re watch the first season and finish my little deep dive on the characters so far I have done Grace, Number 5 and Alison I have focused on one aspect of the characters and expanded that to show how it shapes and even evolves over the season.
today i will be looking at my fav knife wielding mama’s boy, Diego.
[note I did not finish this one and I can’t find the strength too, so I’ll post the draft, so whatever]
I have touched on Diego in another post, here! basically this post was about the time line of events that lead up to and after the funeral. to summaries, Diego was the first to the house after hearing that their ‘father’ died, and then covered up for his mom before everyone even got to the house. now that is just a logistic’s post.
what i am looking at today, is the main or at least one of the main parts of his character. A deep dive into one thing, I will be looking at Diego’s broken heart.
now its no secret that Diego feels and cares more then he lets on (especially with Luther but i will get to that).
lets lay out what we know about Diego
1- he was the first to leave
2- he was a cop
3- he was and still is the only one still in the ‘hero’ game
4- he loves Grace more then anyone else
1- he was the first to leave
now on the first point, he leaves when he is about (what i assume) is 16-17 basically a short time after Ben died. As Diego was one of the first to not take their “fathers” bullshit (5 was the first and got stuck in dooms day prison)
but i think, both of these events shaped the man he is in more ways then one.
when 5 is gone Hargreeves can “pass it off” as 5′s fault like making him an Icarus tale for the rest of them, and since they where still prepubescent (12-13) they were more incline to believe him. also in ep 2 (run boy run) this scene shows that none of the kids (other than 5) were willing to stand up to Hargreaves and the way he runs things. they all follow the rules and then 5 disobeys and then he is gone. So if that doesn't put the fear of god into then what would.
but i think this was different for Diego I think is when he started to understand that their father didn’t care about them at all. I think he suspected but this was the first sign of the cracks forming. so he stepped away from his ‘father’ and went towards his mother, as shown in this scene here
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Diego feelings about grace are very sweet and shown really well in the show. and it says a lot about Diego that he does not see her as a ‘robot’ but as mom. i would say that it is very likely that Diego was the first to call her that, and the last, (ouch i hurt my own feelings). moving back to the point. Diego feels very deeply but about a few people his family (not Hargreaves tho) and Patch, and that’s it. but what his is willing to do for others is pretty amazing (but more on that later).
now we don’t know much about Ben in tua but (and i am going off the comic description as well) he was said to be the kindest and most gentle of all the siblings. so basically he was a good/nice person (or at least the best of them, or on how they would measure it anyway).
so when Ben died that was the last straw for Diego, my money is on that Hargreeves tried to pull the same thing he pulled with 5, by making it seem like it was Ben’s own fault for being weak and soft. And that was Diego fully understood how little he cared about all of them and so even tho he would not see Grace (which i believe was the only reason he stuck around so long). that trick was not going to work twice so he left.
because if someone as good as Ben meant nothing then what was is he.
2- He was a cop
now the biggest part about this is two fold
1- he still wanted to help people he just wanted to do it another way to Hargreeves way.
2- when he realised how little good he was doing and how corrupt the whole thing was so he walked away and started doing things his own way.
the fact he wanted to be cop (and went through training for it) shows that Diego truly wanted to make it on his own. he did not want special treatment and wanted to prove to himself and everyone else he could stand on his own two feet.
now we are not sure of the exact reason why he left the force but it is suggested that he could not stand how little justice and results was actually getting done, however i think there is another factor.
Vanya’s book. this exposed Diego to everyone around him so everything he did for years to prove himself was undermined in just one whole day. But he didn’t give up he still helped people and did whatever he could to protect people from harm.
3- he was and still is the only one still in the ‘hero’ game
we know that he was still very much involved with the vigilantly thing. and the only on who is. So despite is hate and anger towards Hargreeves (and Luther to a degree) he still believes in the ‘mission’ of The Umbrella Academy, at least the part about saving people. he is very dedicated to this, to the point that his whole life revolves around it, with
1- his living situation / employment are at the same place and he would also train there.
2- has no real relationship other then the one he has/had with patch (and grace, but i will come back to that)
3- he literally wears nothing else other then his hero suit.
now why would he keep up fighting like this, what is the motivator, i think its two fold.
1- he wants to prove Hargreeves wrong.
he was number 2, second best and second rate (to Hargreeves anyway), and he cared about people more then the ‘mission’ so my money is on Diego ‘letting’ some bad guys go in favour of saving the public or his family. Hargreeves saw that as weakness and “you can’t save the world by helping one person” type thinking on Hargreeves part (cause he is a dick).
so in other words Hargreeves always thinks of the bigger picture the number 1 priorities (much like Luther to a point) but Diego looks at the ‘little’ picture, like family’s, peoples lives and actual justice for people who are suffering/in danger.
so when he does leave he makes a point to still be a hero but does the opposite of what Hargreeves wanted for him which was to ‘save the world.’
So Diego decided to save individual peoples worlds instead.
2- he never wants any other family to lose ‘their’ Ben
I think a key driver for all of the siblings was Ben’s death (as is canon), But in Diego it hit home that a family can be broken by losing a single piece of it. and Ben’s death really broke his heart in a way that he would not wish it on anyone and would do everything in he power to prevent. his first line in the series is “Your family is safe now”
we don’t know who he is addressing with this statement as the family is to close together, and we don’t see his face when he says it. But (and i am reaching here) I think he said it mostly for his own benefit, as this is a family he could save unlike his own.
and i think he uses and carriers that pain to make sure no one else has to feel it.
4- he loves Grace more then anyone else
now this is somewhat obvious, but i wanted to break it down more.
1- like i said before i believe he was the first and the last person to call her Mom
2- he makes an effort to truly understand her (asking her if when she talks is it like Hargreeves telling her things and if she was angry with Hargreeves)
3- treats and sees her as a real person (not wanting her shut down, validating her feelings)
4- he covered up a murder for her (or what he thought was one) cause he knows if anyone deserved to die it was his ‘father’ and Grace was the one who deserved to do it ( “he treated you worse then anyone” line for example) .
5- when he saw she was broken beyond repair (or when he thought it was) he shut her down to save her anymore pain.
6- when she wanted to leave his response after asking a question was “you can do whatever you want Mom”
now all of this paints a distinctive picture about Diego. But the question still somewhat remains, Why does he love her so much? and Why does he care and devotes so much of himself to her? now Grace is an great mom as I covered in her deep dive so look at that for more, but lets focus on Diego.
#tua#diego hargreeves#number 2#The Umbrella Academy#meta#text#maybe i'll finish it one day#but this has been here for like a year now so#whatever
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SH - Sherlock & Greg Friendship - Prompt: How Greg and Sherlock First Met - Words: 1,637
A/N: Alrighty! So this written from Greg's POV. It's my personal headcannon of what Sherlock and Greg's first meeting might have been like. Please don't hate me if I got something wrong or if it's different than your ideas. Just my little thought. At the end of the story there is a little explanation of some of the references I made. See if you catch them 😜
I WILL ADD THIS: THERE IS DISCUSSION OF SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND INTENT. HOWEVER, NO HARM COMES UPON ANYONE. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU FEEL YOU WILL BE TRIGGERED.
"Goodnight, Inspector," Donavon said, as we walked out to our respective cars.
"Good night, Sally," I replied. "Have any plans tonight?"
"Oh, nothing much," She replied with a smile. Anderson walked out and headed to his car too though I noticed he winked and waved at Sally as he passed by. "See you tomorrow," She told me. I nodded and got in my car. As I started my engine I saw Philip run back to her and hand her what seemed to be a key. I shook my head and pulled away. I didn't want to pry into the personal lives of anyone on my team but I made a mental note to keep an eye on those two.
"Oh, I'm exhausted," I groaned to myself as I drove home. I'd just received my promotion to Detective Inspector and the first case we'd gotten has proven to be more difficult than we expected. Deciding that my already distant wife wouldn't care if I was home another 15 minutes later, I pulled over for a smoke. The Waterloo Bridge was just up ahead so I got out for a little walk. As I walked up into the bridge I took out my cigarette and was just about to light it when someone spoke up.
"Those things will kill you."
"Who said that?" I called out, immediately pocketing my lighter and lowering my cigarette. Instinctively, my hand hovered near my holster.
"Nobody of import to you, Detective Inspector. I was just making an observation." I was speechless for a moment, surprised that whoever was talking knew who I was. Or at least what I was. My blood ran cold, though, when I finally spotted the illusive speaker.
"What are you doing over there?" I asked, attempting to keep my voice steady. I couldn't yet see his features but I could tell he was young, tall, skinny and had a head full of curly hair. The first thing I noticed, though, was that he was standing on the wrong side of the walkway railing.
"My plan was to jump," He stated plainly. I was quiet for a moment, surprised that he'd so easily admit such a thing. "Surprised I said it?" He asked, looking at me finally. I nodded and he smiled sadly. "No reason to lie to you. You're a smart man. You wouldn't have reached DI otherwise."
"How do you know that anyways?" I asked, walking up next to him, however remaining on the correct side of the railing.
"It was quite obvious. Your haircut implies your employment is of the upper blue-collar class which narrows the field considerably. Considering your age you couldn't be higher than Detective Inspector but no lower than Detective Sergeant. If you were still at Constable you would have quit. Also it was obvious from the fact you went for your gun when I spoke up. You're considerably tired, even for this late hour, meaning you probably were one of the last out. Though tired your gait shows a measure of excitement, pride, if you will. It couldn't be caused by anything at home. You stopped for a smoke on your way home and didn't light up in your car meaning your wife dislikes the habit. One of the reasons she's going to be leaving you, by the way. You certainly aren't expecting children any time soon so that would leave your job. You're excited about something that happened recently at your job. You're obviously exhausted from the case you've been trying to crack so that leaves one option. Promotion. I'd say at the beginning of this past week."
"Wow," I gasped. "You're quite good at that!"
"You're not angry?" He asked slowly, staring at me in surprise.
"Not at all."
"I just told you your wife was leaving you."
"I knew that," I chuckled. "She's been hinting at the matter for weeks. I've been trying to fix things but, with my new promotion, she seems more determined than ever."
"I see," He said, looking off down the river again. "Most people get quite upset with me."
"Well, perhaps depending on the situation it might not be welcome but I don't see what's so bad about it. You know," I said with a grin. "With your ability you'd make a fine DI yourself."
"Tried. Couldn't pass the psych eval," He whispered. "What you call an ability, they call a disability." I stayed quiet, waiting to see if he'd go on. "Doctors diagnosed me with Asperger's and ADHD.”
“Well that certainly shouldn't stop you! Have you considered becoming a private investigator?” He wrinkled his nose at the suggestion.
“I’m not a fan of that title.”
“Private detective?” I tried. He shook his head again. “I’ll think of something,” I said determandly.
“Why would you care?”
“You seem like a nice kid, I-”
“I’m not a kid, I'm 25,” He interrupted, causing me to chuckle lightly.
"Alright," I said, holding up my hands. "Young man. You seem like a nice young man. I want to help you out."
"Why?" He asked again, sounding awfully much like a 2 year old. "I grew up in the countryside with my parents and my older brother. I never had any friends in school. I’ve always been like this. It didn’t get any better when I went to uni. Everyone just made fun of me. Once I graduated, I moved in with my brother in the city. I worked with him for a few years but,” He paused. "Let's just say that didn't go well. I tried to live on my own but I couldn't pay rent because I wasn't able to hold down a job. No one could put up with me. My brother would send me money here and there but he stopped after a while when he found out I had gotten involved in other things."
"Drugs?" The young man nodded slowly. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be somewhere else in his mind. "You know I could have you arrested for that," I commented.
"You wouldn't," He replied. He turned his head and looked straight at me, his eyes more intense than anyone else's I'd ever met. "Besides," He continued, looking away again. "I've stopped."
"For now," I said. "You'll stop until you don't have anything to do and then your mind will get too loud, too busy, too noisy and you'll try to quiet it again."
"How-"
"My cousin," I stated simply. "And also myself in a way. These 'help' me with my stress." I held up my package of cigarettes.
"May I see them?" He asked, holding out his hand. I nodded and handed them over. He looked them over carefully and then threw them into the river.
"Oi! Why'd you do that?" With a smirk and quickly hopped back over the railing onto the walkway.
"Try this," He said, rolling up his sleeve and showing me a patch on his arm. "When I have an especially bad day I'll go up to 3 patches. But one would probably be enough for you."
"Alright, I'll give it a try." He smiled abit haughtily. "But," I added, causing his expression to falter. "Only if you promise to give the private, personal, whatever you want to call it, detective work a try."
"After consulting with you, Inspector, I suppose I could attempt to give this idiotic world another try."
"That's it!" I exclaimed. "Consulting Detective! That's what you can call yourself!" He furrowed his brow in thought before smiling slightly.
"I think that just might work. But who would I consult for?"
"Well, you could set up a website so people can send in cases. Perhaps post something about how you do your deductions. It might take awhile for you to get enough customers so perhaps I can arrange for you to take a look at some old cold cases. What do you think of that?"
"I-" He paused, looking away in embarrassment. "Thank you, Inspector."
"You're welcome. And call me Greg, hm? Or Lestrade if Greg is too hard to remember," I joked.
"Alright," He paused. "Graham," He added with a smirk. I laughed loudly and clapped his shoulder.
"Well, I have the feeling this is going to be the start of something very special for you. Who knows where this will take you or who you'll meet!" He nodded, corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile. "Why don't you stop by my office tomorrow afternoon? I can get you some cold cases and who knows, maybe you'll even crack the case I'm working on now!"
"Thank you," He replied, suddenly sounding very nervous.
"Look, I know people are going to judge you for who you are and what you do. I wish I could change that. But keep your chin up. One day you'll look back and be surprised where it got you. Be confident in yourself. That'll help a lot."
"Like this?" He asked, standing straighter and giving off a well practiced authoritative glare.
"Something like that," I replied. "Here. Try this." I reached for his coat collar and turned it up. "Perfect. Now you look like a real professional." He nodded sharply, keeping up his vaguely disinterested air.
"I've done this before," He admitted. I smiled and nodded.
"Me too. I think you'll be just fine." I smiled at him, happy I was able to save a life tonight instead of investigate a death. "Do you need a ride home?" I offered.
"That would be helpful," He admitted.
"Alright, then, Mr.," I paused, chuckling lightly. "You know, I never got your name."
"Sherlock Holmes," He replied. I smiled and shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Sherlock." I paused for a moment, thinking. "Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
I UNDERSTOOD THAT REFERENCE: A GUIDE
The key - Anderson is giving Sally a key to his apartment since they are having an affair. Not exactly a direct reference. Just a thought lol
Those things will kill you - I thought making that the first thing Sherlock said to Greg would have explained all the more so why Greg was so happy to see him again when he came back.
Sherlock's diagnosis - In one of the episodes (can't remember which, too lazy to look it up lol) John says Sherlock has Asperger's. One of my best friends has Asperger's and I've had other friends with ADHD. As a non-professional, I would say Sherlock definitely acts in harmony with those two disorders.
The patches - Greg was showing Sherlock his own patches in the first episode. Thought that was cute.
Graham - I personally think Sherlock has always known Greg's name and it's just an inside joke lol
So, if you noticed anything else, let me know! Please leave a comment (or two lol) if you liked it!!!!
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#sherlock#sherlock bbc#sherlock imagine#sherlock fanfic#sherlock & greg#greg lestrade#di lestrade#papa lestrade
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I'm back on my Gaggle of Hawkes Everyone Lives, Damnit AU bullshit.
Thoughts on how everyone is trying to get money together to a) scrape by in Lowtown and b) help fund the Deep Roads expedition.
In birth order:
Vivian: shady af smuggling deals with Athenril's crew. Dodges the law (and Aveline) by the skin of her teeth. Most of the money goes towards the Deep Roads expedition because she and her twin see it as a quick way out of their current living situation.
Gavin: similarly shady af smuggling deals because he and his twin are joined at the hip when it comes to skirting the law. Most people say "Hawke" and reference both him and Vivian in the same breath nine times out of ten. Unlike his sister though, he pisses away the majority of his earnings with gambling debts and visits to the Rose. What, bonding moments with Gamlen about being the family fuckup? From me? noooo, of course not.
Elsa: does this by lawful, legal means by somehow managing to snag a low level clerical position within the Viscount's Keep and takes to politics like a duck to water. The pay isn't great, but it's enough to buy food and even have a little left over to donate to the Chantry orphanage. Upside: she pulled off a big "I caught this before it went out to the public and saved Kirkwall from a tax scandal, are you SURE you want this ordinance to be worded with so many loopholes?" save and gained seneschal Bran's attention. He sees her potential and decides to promote her to his assistant/protégé. It isn't long before she and Leandra are invited to dinner with the Viscount and she's carefully testing the waters for any potential leverage in getting the family estate back in their name.
Bethany: doesn't have a job per se, mostly because of the fear of getting put on the local Templar radar. Helps out at Anders' clinic most of the time, does simple money under the table type mending jobs for some of the local tailors on the side. Learned how to pick locks from her three older siblings (because like it or not, you're going to absorb some things via osmosis with two rogues and a mage-disguised-as-a-rogue in the family, even if Elsa doesn't use her skills unless absolutely needed) and managed to break into the Amell estate's cellars on her own to smuggle out what little gold or items that could be sold that she could get without getting caught by the smugglers squatting there. Got an earful from everyone about doing things like that on her own without consulting anyone first and not taking backup, but the "don't tell Mom" code was kept.
Carver: after Aveline shot down his chances at joining the Guard and having an opportunity for gainful employment, he decided that he would tackle the issue in the usual Hawke way: by stubbornly acting out of spite. He spends hours in the open to the public library at the Viscount's Keep pouring over every single book available on Kirkwall's laws, memorizing everything he can get his hands on about guardsmen procedure. All of a sudden, there's word of a vigilante arresting people, which wouldn't really make the news, but the day after each arrest, neatly written reports that are done in such a meticulous manner that they impress the Guard Captain start showing up, which saves everyone time trying to do paperwork on a case where they have zero clue as to who the arresting officer is. Aveline winds up catching Carver in the act one night and she's "my dude, you can't do this" but then Donnic, who happened to be on patrol with her is "idk, Aveline. He's citing laws that I had to look up and he's working his ass off running patrols. I'm putting in the good word for him; he's doing a fine job, might as well get a paycheck for it." Given the opportunity to make money (and keep Gavin and Bethany safe since he now has an ear to the ground re: Templars working with the Guard) Carver runs with it and becomes one of the best damn Guardsmen Kirkwall's ever seen. He's still 19 and dealing with some heavy mental stuff, but Donnic takes a shine to him and takes him under his wing as a sort of mentor. Carver's involvement in the "nice night for an evening" walk was his way of paying Donnic back for his kindness and making a point to tell Aveline that HE took a chance on her and didn't go out of his way to unnecessarily block her from her goals. She gets the point and even admits a few years later that she was wrong about him and apologizes.
#gaggle of hawkes au#is the Aveline refusing to hire Carver thing still a sore spot for me after all these years? MAYBE SO#will i ever do anything with this? who knows but I can prattle on about little family dynamic headcanons all day if you let me#you would have thought that Malcom and Leandra would have stopped at Vivian and Gavin since the two of them were unholy terrors but nooo
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