#fyi while that is my headcanon on Danny's powers

[redrobin-detective]

turn and face the strange

“Hey Val,” a deep voice whispered into her ear and Valerie nearly jumped off of her hoverboard. She whirled around and pointed her weapon at the stupid ghost that had dared to sneak up on Amity’s greatest hunter... only to find Phantom with a cheeky grin and his hands held up playfully. “Oh man, back to shooting on sight? That is so three years ago.”

“Phantom?” She questioned, lowering her gun but only a fraction. It wasn’t unheard for ghosts to take advantage of Phantom’s fame and face. Amorpho could have blown back into town to cause problems again. The ghost’s face settled into one of polite confusion as he lowered his hands.

“Yeah? I know we haven’t seen each other in almost a month but I didn’t think I was that forgettable.” He quipped easily but his deep green eyes searched her for signs that something was wrong. Valerie finally lowered her weapon completely, no ghost could fake Phantom’s level of concern.

“Sorry,” she grumbled, the word still giving her a bitter aftertaste even after being partners and sort of friends with the ghost going on two years. “But what happened to you? Since when are you all...” she gestured vaguely to all of him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Val; I think you studied too much during the break. You’re looking at an Ivy league school, yeah? I know someone who can get you some practice guides and-”

“No, but your voice!” Val interrupted. “It wasn’t like that before, it’s all deep and weird and since when were you taller than me and have muscle!”

“Are you checking me out, Valerie Grey?” the ghost teased lightly, “because I believe I have mentioned I am very happily in a relationship and-”

“No,” she interrupted again, “when did you grow up?” She asked, unable to think of another word to describe the near adult before her.

“Probably around the same time you did,” Phantom shrugged. Valerie almost disputed it but then paused. She thought of the weeks and months before the Christmas Truce that had halted almost all ghost attacks. 

It had all happened very gradually, just like her widening hips and broader shoulders. She’d gotten used to seeing him every day, often more than she wanted, that it hadn’t registered. The ghost boy had become a man right before her eyes and she hadn’t even noticed. 

“But how? You’re a ghost.”

“Meh,” Phantom added unhelpfully, flipping over to float lazily on his back as if his existence wasn’t breaking her brain right now.

“Don’t Meh me,” she hissed. “You were what? 12 when you uh became a ghost?”

“Excuse you, I was 14,” Phantom said casually as if dying so tragically young wasn’t something to worry about. “And now I’m 17.”

“No, that’s not how it works,” Val countered. Had she known that they were the exact same age? It had never really come up before since she made an effort not to get too close to the annoying ghost. Would he have been her classmate, her friend, if he hadn’t died? “You’re still 14, ghosts don’t age.”

“I do,” Phantom stated. “I’ve had three birthdays and three death days since I got my powers. As you just pointed out a few minutes ago, I’m not the shrimpy, squeaky voiced little brat that I was. I even know how to drive now, not that I do it all that much since I can fly and don’t really have a car...”

“That’s not how death works,” Valerie explained but even she was losing steam.

“You’re going to lecture me on how death works?” Phantom asked shooting her with the driest look he could manage with his undead eyes. “I get that its a little weird but what is life but a series of weird coincidences? Ghosts aren’t as static as you think, we can feel and change and grow.” He stuck out his tongue out at her, “some of us even grow taller than you.”

“Jerk,” Valerie said but she couldn’t help but smile at little bit. Phantom was annoying, he was annoying and arrogant and stupidly protective and kind. It had always bothered her a bit how he could be so otherworldly and so human at the same time but maybe ghosts weren’t that different after all. Maybe it was time to finally accept that Phantom wasn’t just an echo, a leftover consciousness but a person in his own right. “So Mr. Adult Phantom, if I’m going to an Ivy League school to study law what are you doing with your afterlife?”

“Oh you know, fight some ghosts, scare some tourists, be forcibly crowned Ghost King once I turn 18 and make some effort to repair human and ghostly relations.” 

“Be forcibly what?” Val shrieked.

“Yeah,” Phantom sighed mournfully. “Word to the wise, do NOT seal away strange Ghost Kings in sarcophaguses or a bunch of eyeballs will try and make you his replacement. I got them to wait until I was 18 so I guess that’s something.” His eyes widened with realization. “Hey when you’re done your law degree you want to replace Walker as the warden of the Zone? You can fight people with your fists and paperwork!”

“What the hell!” Valerie asked, getting in Phantom’s face. “They’re going to make you King? The ghosts hate you!”

“I know, it’s gonna be a ride. Well, thanks for reminding me of my dwindling freedom. I’m going to try and break the sound barrier. Want to join me?” He teased. 

“You’re gonna have to break the sound barrier if you want to get away from me, I need answers, you stupid ghost!” She reached out to grab him but he floated away. His eyes were light, playful as he sped off. He turned over his shoulder, to see if she would chase him not as a predator after a prey but one kid chasing another. 

They both had big changes and big responsibilities coming up when they’d both have to grow up properly. But for now, they could streak across the skies of the city they both swore to protect and enjoy the last dregs of their youth, living and dead.

[bigskydreaming]

What kind of house/apt do adult successful Scanny have?

I think it would be something smallish and unassuming on the outside, very approachable. Maybe even like, a townhome or a duplex or something like that, depending on what city Scott ultimately settles in with whatever pack he builds up around him there vs whomever stays in Beacon Hills.

I don’t have any specific headcanons for where Scott relocates to, its just very important to me that he does, because like. He deserves to get far, far away from Beacon Hills. There are too many bad memories there. Its where he died. Its where Allison died, Boyd, Erica. Like, all the bad things that linger with Scott came from Beacon Hills and that damn evil attention-seeking tree stump, and all the good things that linger with Scott are one hundred percent the product of his own actions and the relationships he fostered with the people that became important to him. 

There’s nothing in Beacon Hills that gives Scott anything he doesn’t already have by this point, no reason for him to stay other than his mother, who can literally just move as well. But not with Chris Argent. On account of like, well he died too. It was very sad and tragic, I don’t want to talk about it. Tears were shed, its all still really fresh and raw, we should probably just move on. Its what he would want. Probably. Also who cares, ding dong he’s dead and Melissa’s married to some nice doctor who’s never pulled a gun on her son, as well as possessing other qualities that meet somewhat higher standards, I’m sure.

Anyway. We were talking about Scott saying hasta la vista baby to Beacon Hills followed then by a slow motion dramatic walkaway shot before he gets on his motorcycle, adjusts his mirrors, revs the throttle all action movie star-esque, and also sexily -  look, they’re not always automatically the same thing -  and then he drives away forever from that toxic cesspit of a homicidal zipcode where square footage is calculated in terms of dead bodies. Leaving behind all the like, million and one reasons for him to say Bye Beacon Hills, see you never, try not to become a central locus for evil, but also, I don’t care if you do, it is hashtag NotMyResponsibilityAnymore. But also, I mean. It never was. Just FYI.

And then he flips the town off and accelerates off into the sunset while the town eats his dust, and admittedly Scott isn’t really the type to throw around middle fingers even where deserved, but fuck it, I’m projecting onto him and its my headcanon and I say that pile of excrement in real estate form needs to be flipped off and also, like. Its just an aesthetic thing. For the visuals. Its the whole dramatic end scene, roll credits, “I came, I saw and I blew shit up and now I’m off to reunite with my love interest and have vigorous victory sex” vibe. You get it.

So they relocate somewhere, wherever that is. I honestly don’t care, so long as its nice and doesn’t murder them or inflict gratuitous bodily harm every week and the nearest Satanic foliage is at least two statelines away. Preferably with a thriving supernatural community where Scott and his pack can all feel welcome and like they belong, rather than outsiders eternally hiding in plain sight among potential enemies. Like, somewhere where their neighbors are all vampires and Fae and other supernaturals, but only so long as like, the only reason they ever come over is to borrow a cup of sugar. Never to betray them to randomly resurrected enemies or guilt trip them into solving someone else’s centuries old and completely pointless grudgematch of Unnecessary Drama and Also Doom.

And wherever it is, the pack have their own dwellings and much needed privacy. Far enough apart that even supernatural hearing and smell don’t have them all playing Peeping Tom whether they like it or not, every time a couple wants to get frisky, but close enough together that they’re all still together, and know that more pack, more community, is always just a short walk away.

Scott and Danny’s place is some sort of small but cozy townhome or duplex or something like that, as I said. Scott’s always very aware of his presence and reputation and the power he both commands and also is afforded by peoples’ embellished expectations regarding him. So it was really important to Scott, and thus important to Danny, that their home be unpretentious. Inviting and approachable and not ‘above’ anyone else, or trying to be. Somewhere that when you got to their street and checked the address if you’re new in town and looking for an audience with True Alpha Scott McCall, you stop and do a double take and almost have to revise whatever preconceptions you have, or at least put them on hold, because like…this is where the famous True Alpha lives? Its so…ordinary.

But that’s the point after all….because the more he was looked at as standing apart from all others, the more ‘ordinary’ became the only thing Scott’s really ever aspired to be.

So its not poor, by any means. They do well for themselves, the whole pack, like you said, Scott and Danny are successful in this future. They have jobs that afford them both a sense of purpose and fulfillment of longheld interests, as well as the potential for discovering more, rather than getting locked into things that grow stale overtime as they outgrow fantasy careers that seemed more validating when they were kids dreaming of the future.

Also their jobs, whatever they might be, make them at least successful enough that it allows them both a large degree of autonomy. They can pick their own schedules, more or less. They have finances, but none that will be massively disrupted or stress-inducing if Scott has to take time off for a couple weeks to help a neighboring pack relocate somewhere new after they flee from hunters. Something where Scott’s never forced to choose between his job and keeping him and his pack financially afloat, versus someone needing his help and it not immediately apparent how long that might take resolve. The dream is stability and comfort, and enough personal agency for Scott in how and where he gets both of those, that he never feels like he’s letting down either his pack or innocents asking for his help, because the demands of his job or finances make him feel like it has to be one or the other, he can’t possibly do both.

Ideally, that flexible schedule means that when Scott isn’t helping others, something he now does by choice and simply because he wants to and he can, not because he’s made to feel he has to, like its his responsibility and his alone, because certain boundary-blind best friends have decided they want to play Peter Parker but are gonna need Scott to step up and play the actual Spider-Man part and lend his power even when someone else gets to decide for him when its his responsibility. Oopsie, I tripped and fell and my Bitter Resentment and Still Not Over It slipped out. Oh no. How terrible. Much woe.

Ahem. Anyway. As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted by myself, Scott’s flexible schedule means that when he’s not using it to help others, he has enough left over that he can afford (and justify to himself) using it for himself and his own personal enjoyment and interests, actually prioritize and commit to his own self-care, because a healthy, happy Alpha is a healthy, happy Pack. Someone said that once, probably. Probably not Hobbes. Definitely heard that somewhere though. Trust me, I’m a doctor. 

So with the aid of this newfangled invention produced by cutting edge technology, this quote unquote “Free Time…”  Scott explores other interests. His own. Le gasp, le shocking, le about the fuck time. He explores the novelty of being able to even have hobbies, because depressingly (why am I like this, science side of tumblr), there was once a time when Scott stopped bothering trying to figure out what all he was interested in, because he kinda assumed he’d be long dead before it ever had a chance to matter.

But by the power invested in me by Fuck You, Jeff Davis, in this future, none of that comes to pass. So free time and personal passions for Scott. He has them, in abundance. So like. He gardens, for sure. That’s why I specified a duplex or townhouse instead of an apartment in a complex or building….they live somewhere where they at least have their own garden or yard. Scott designs and implements it personally, something like his own personal Zen garden on a scale commensurate with What He Deserves. He goes outside whenever he’s starting to feel stressed about some obligation or commitment or another, and just….plays. 

That’s what it is to him. He just plants things. Prunes things. Adds fountains or bird feeders or statuary, little personalized touches here and there that make his own personal territory uniquely his and his alone. Gardening in his yard is His Time in His Space, and all the pack know better than to interrupt him when he’s out in his yard working away, unless its an absolute emergency. 

Danny enforces this with an iron fist and an ability to tank your credit score and spread all your most embarrassing pictures internet-wide with just a single keystroke. And Danny is the enforcer Scott doesn’t have to be. People forget that everyone loves Danny….but in no small part due to his usual proximity to Jackson. Next to Jackson, everyone looks like an angel. But Danny, on his own? Can be mean. Will be mean, if you touch or hurt or threaten or even just inconvenience his man, because like, who the fuck do you think you are and also it doesn’t even matter because he just replaced your whole identity online and if you’re nice and apologize and kiss ass without Scott ever having to know What You Almost Did, maybe Danny will have mercy on you and actually let you know what your new identity is, so you can use it to like, make a new life with the details he made up to replace your old personal info that no longer gets you anywhere. 

Danny - that’s Miss Nasty if you mess with his husband - is chaotic neutral with an exception for “this is my list of special people. Touch any of them and my alignment is Chaotic Evil for however long as until I have personally escorted you to your Doom and physically kicked you into a bottomless pit where you will suffer for eternity.” 

But then he smiles and charms everyone into only remembering lol oh yeah, everybody likes Danny, so that once again, everyone forgets that’s at least partially self-preservation because if you don’t love Danny and everyone Danny loves, like, you’re dumb and also screwed. Why are you bad at making good choices. 

Don’t feel bad though. Danny’s very good at making people forget this part, t least until the next time he reminds people of that little piece of trivia. Have you seen him smile? Its like that flashing bulb thing Will Smith uses in Men in Black to make people forget what they just saw or were doing. Except without any supervision and/or morality because fuck your ethics, its Danny’s bewitching smile, he’ll use it however he wants. Get your own.

(The thing is, any best friend of Jackson has to have at least a little capacity for Evil. Danny just hides it well, thanks to the cloaking camouflage of Actually Having a Soul in Addition, and like, being a people person who actually understands how people work and how not to alienate them by being a total uncaring jackass 24/7. Its a fine line, except its really not, and Danny is very talented at all things and possesses an abundance of charm. Plus he’s just hot, and like. Let’s face it. That always helps. I mean, definitely never hurts).

The end result of all this tangent-having, is that Scott has enough him time and enough of a barrier from people constantly distracting him, that the exterior of Scott and Danny’s place, for all its otherwise ordinary appearance, Scott has over time turned into his own personal slice of paradise, and is exactly what that looks like to him. 

See, the thing about Scott is no matter how hard he tries to be ordinary and value being just like everyone else and get lost in the crowd…..he never will quite manage it, because Scott just isn’t like anyone else. He’s good, in a way that too few people even aspire to be, because so many people just think its not possible. Especially not after having lived through the kinds of traumas Scott has, been dealt an especially unlucky hand. But Scott manages it anyway, in spite of everything, spiting every thing that tries to make him be anything lesser….and because of that, he’ll always stand at least a little apart from the crowd, be a little distinct from the rest, impossible to ever fully be lost or muted by any crowd of any size.

And the little slice of the world Scott makes just his and Danny’s, no one else’s. He doesn’t even need to share it with his pack without it being any less inviting to his pack for all that. It reflects this understated aspect of Scott, this impossible to quantify essence of him that he himself is too unassuming to ever fully realize is there, and everyone else just accepts without questioning…because they’ve learned by now when you’re given a gift, just accept it and appreciate it.

So in structure and layout, their home is nothing special, but amidst a neighborhood of similar structures, it pops all the same. It draws the eye without dominating your vision. It makes you want to look at it, want to come closer, want to be around it, much like the man who designed it. Who made it, cares for it, and never neglects it or takes it for granted. Its always green, year round, and filled with a variety of flowers that come from all over the world but can all complement each other and coexist without endangering any of the neighboring plants. None of them overgrowing the garden or in any way being at any of the other plants’ expense. 

They’re like Scott’s pack in that way….of all shapes and sizes, coming from all around the world, of all kinds of types, not even just limited to werewolves. All beautiful, all unique, all existing in harmony. Even though Scott’s never shared this with anyone else, in his mind, each flower or plant he adds to his garden represents one specific member of his pack. Its Theirs, its what he associates with them. In this way, they’re all represented, it reminds him whatever conflict arises internally, its nothing they can’t ultimately all work out without compromising any single individual. And with each plant needing its own special attention and time devoted to cultivating it and caring for it, they serve as proxies for the pack members they represent.  

Due to this, Scott can tell himself with just a glance at his garden - reassure himself, whenever his self-doubts get the better of him and he starts to beat himself up for not being there enough for someone or neglecting someone or not doing better - but with his garden, just going outside and checking it over can remind Scott that he’s not neglecting anyone. Because every time he tends to the plant that represents a pack member, Scott reflects on that pack member as he does so. Just going over what they’ve been up to, mentally checking in on them, casting about to see if he’s noticed any sign something’s been bothering them, making sure to spend one on one time with them. 

He can’t tend to a plant without associating it with their linked pack member….and in this way, as long as he can look around and take in with a glance the sight of his garden, all carefully tended to, no plant neglected, all watered and pruned and harmonious and appreciated….and it serves as a visual reminder with which to reassure himself….he’s not forgetting anyone, overlooking anyone. Nobody’s being neglected, he’s always thinking about his pack and keeping their best interests at heart and if any problems do pop to mind while he’s tending to one of his plants or flowers, of course that would be the first thing he’d make a plan to go check in on and address personally, once he’s making his rounds later and having a little face time and conversation with his various packmates.

Of all the flowers and various plant types in his garden, there’s only one fruit….a single eye catching and lovingly attended orange tree. That’s Danny. They’re his favorite, and orange is his favorite color. There’s just something unique about it. Especially in the midst of so much green.

The flowers nearest the front door and around the external structures of the building, a pillar underneath the small, roofed-in entrance way, perhaps, a gate at the front of the property, next to the driveway, maybe a trellis along the wall just next to the door…..the flowers adorning and framing the entrance to their home are a carefully arranged spray of seven different hues. 

A literal rainbow, advertising this House and All Who Live Here Be Gaaaaaaay.

Scott’s always had a sly, understated sense of humor. Mischievous, but not usually at anyone’s expense, and subtle enough that most people don’t tend to credit him with having much of a sense of humor. He does though….he’s just never needed words to express it.

Advertising himself and his personal pride with a literal year round rainbow that’s still subtle enough that most people don’t clue into its layered meaning or implications without being told. Later in life, stable and safe and more centered, Scott gets a pretty big kick out of how often people fail to see what’s right in front of them. Him living his best life on his own terms and not even being shy about it….and if other people can’t connect the dots on their own….its a pity, Scott muses with a mostly internalized laugh, that most people are just in too big a hurry or too eager to take things at face value to truly see what their surroundings look like and are full of.

Danny gets the joke, and thinks its hilarious how few other people figure it out. But that’s mostly just because Danny can be kind of a dick. He’s sorry not sorry. Its not his fault people are dumb. RIP to 90% of humanity, but he has braincells.

He and Scott complement each other well.

Similarly, just as Scott’s personal space is outdoors, natural, and helps him feel part of the world, feel part of nature, connected to it and in harmony with the natural order of things and not something completely separate….Danny’s personal space is indoors, the extra room converted entirely into his personal office or Batcave. Filled with monitors and screens and hard drives, a Hacker’s Paradise that keeps Danny plugged into the grid, manmade tools and his own cultivated expertise giving him the world at his fingertips. Any needed information or a satellite view of something happening with allies on the other side of the world is just a few clicks of a mouse away.

He’s also got every video game console known to man, because Danny’s Me Time is kicking ass on whatever game the latest redditor or twitterbaiting bigot to catch his ire is high-ranking on. 

And if he also happens to use his gameplay as an opportunity to backdoor into said Wankstain’s systems and do whatever needs doing to make his life and those of all his enabling social circle’s a living hell and a lesson in empathy that comes too late cuz nobody has any for them because they suck and are Satan….

Well. Sucks to be them, and also, what kind of moron makes enemies while online gaming without first erecting even a nominal defense against Superior Intellects who might feel like retaliating against his jokes, that aren’t really jokes so much as the synaptic misfiring of racist braincells and proof that sometimes, evolution shits out a turd?

“That sounds like victim blaming,” Scott notes in an absent kind of tone when watching over his husband’s shoulder one day. Not really judgmental so much as just something to say.

“You say victim blaming, I say pest control,” Danny hums unapologetically. “Sides, can’t be victim blamed if you’re not a victim, and you can’t be a victim if you’re really just a human-shaped mistake who has no redeeming qualities, an online presence that’s the virtual equivalent of bad BO with no medical cause for an excuse, and a social media history that makes a strong case for your best possible contribution to society being a qualifier for a Darwin Award. Would you blame a cockroach for getting itself stepped on by stepping out into the light? I mean, you could, I guess. Just doesn’t seem terribly productive if you ask me.”

“Why do you hate cockroaches? They’re living creatures who never did anything to you, why would hurt them by comparing one to this guy?” Scott asks, because that’s really the more important part of the conversation.

“Dunno,” Danny shrugs. “I’m sure I could find some way to blame it on childhood trauma if you really need an answer.”

“No, just wondering if you’re gonna be done in time for dinner. I’m making tortellini.”

“I’ll be done in ten minutes, I swear. And ready to eat like a metaphor that’s more appropriate to you. Righteous vengeance really works up an appetite.”

“Uh-huh. Just out of curiosity, who exactly are you righteously avenging at the moment?”

“Humanity? Good taste? God, who couldn’t possibly have foreseen this free will thing would go so very wrong? That poor defunct condom that tried its best but in the end, just wasn’t up to the task of keeping this shithead from being unleashed unto the Earth? I dunno. Do I have to pick just one?”

Not really. As stated, Scott’s not actually judging anymore than Danny’s trying to hide this from him. They’re both in total agreement about the kind of people Danny cyber-vigilantes. They just have different approaches about how they should be handled. Scott, while not violent by choice for the most part, does tend to favor the direct approach. He just feels its right that a person know why exactly he thinks they’re a terrible person who deserves what they get. So he tends more towards the approach of: punch a bigot in the face, wait for a second for a whiff of remorse or sign someone might be suddenly reevaluating life choices, because he’s Scott and hope springs eternal, but when no such revelation comes, just shrugging and walking away. Oh well. He tried. Sorta. Well, kinda.

Danny, in contrast, prefers to go for the jugular and leave no hint of who or what might have been behind the all-encompassing full frontal assault that hits every online trace of his target’s miserable and miserly existence. It keeps them paranoid and this keeps him sated. Plus, his stance is when they don’t know what exactly earned them an enemy of his caliber, it forces them to reflect or at least call to mind every thing they can think of doing wrong to someone that might result in that someone hating them this much.

The ironic thing of course is Danny doesn’t even really hate them, because that implies a level of giving a shit he can’t ever quite seem to muster. He mostly just thinks they suck and should suffer for that. And he gets bored a lot. 

Look, his husband and fellow werewolves are off saving the world every other week and being all kinds of kick-ass and action adventure movie-star types in the process. A guy sitting behind at home all the time has to get his jollies somehow. Also, he’s compiled a very engaging soundtrack to accompany his personal heroic undertakings, and it does wonderful things for his self image. Danny’s all about that self-care.

Plus, the first time he and Scott had something of a disagreement on their approaches, Danny unapologetically stated that loving him meant loving his vindictive side, because he personally was quite fond of it and thought it was really something of a Look. Also, making that Look into a Thing might be something of a dealbreaker for him, because he really didn’t want to undersell his capacity to be petty, and how little shame he felt about having said capacity. His essential life philosophy boils down to sometimes people just suck and somebody needs to say so. Maybe by draining their bank account and redirecting the funds to an ironically relevant charity.

“Fine,” Scott had conceded with a sigh. “Just be careful about making enemies like this, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

(That was really his only real concern all along. He’s a Nurturing Nelly. Scott can’t help but be a worry wart when his husband roams the internet highways under a masked IP address, taking on bandits and bigots all willy nilly, with not a bit of concern for himself. Its their biggest common ground, and Danny doesn’t have claws or a killer bite to protect himself with. A bite fetish, maybe, but that’s not quite the same thing, and also neither here nor there, and also also, he would like to plead the fifth while reminding you he can access and pull up your full porn-browsing history if you’d like to press that line of conversation further. Pervert).

Anyway, alls well that ends well, and thus Danny couldn’t help but be charmed at the reminder that his hubby is a man with clear priorities and his biggest is always gonna be the safety of his loved ones. Aww, sweetums.

“Aww, sweetums,” he said, just to see Scott squirm, because the more unexpected the endearment, the more Scott doesn’t know how to take it. And a squirmy Scott is an adorable Scott, Danny has always felt, and he is a man who appreciates his eye candy, as well as a go-getter who knows what he likes and goes and gets it, even if that means playing dirty. Especially if that means playing dirty. Danny likes dirty. 

After all, dirty men need to shower, and showering together conserves water, and having sex while showering together is just a solid application of having eyes, a hot husband, and a healthy libido. It just makes good sense. He’s goal-oriented and a linear thinker, what do you want, leave him alone. He’s valid and you’re just jealous.

Still, exotic endearment applied, he’d then followed up with:

“How dare you accuse me of being so bad at the thing that I am most skilled at that you imply I’m even capable of ever leaving digital tracks like a total N00b. What do I look like to you? A 4chan poster who just figured out how to spoof their GPS for the first time?” 

Danny rolled his eyes, exaggerating his wounded pride. It was the principle of the matter, and he was very principled. Sometimes. Kinda. If principles mean whimsy and whimsy means shh, don’t interrupt me, I’m doing bad things to bad people and this is very important work that must be savored or you really don’t get the full oomph of the revenge-gasm. Yes, he said revenge-gasm and he meant it. No he will not elaborate. Imagination is free.

“Ten points from Gryffindor for your low opinion of me, your valued and valuable life partner. Also, no sex for you, until…..okay maybe that’s too far. You seem like you’ve learned your lesson.”

“You’re too merciful,” Scott had said drily. 

“Nobody’s perfect,” Danny had said lackadaisically. “Also, not to disrespect your tortellini-making expertise, but any chance we can put a pin in dinner until after we go have wild, passionate sex? This pending revenge-gasm is making me horny and I really hate to waste a good head of moral crusading.”

“That was a terrible pun.”

“I have never made a pun in my life, how dare you, my sense of humor is sophisticated. I’m not a peasant, Scott. And where did we land on the sex.”

“Didn’t we just do it this morning?”

“I have needs, Scott.”

“You’re insatiable.”

“And water is wet. I don’t see the relevance. Also, if you don’t want me jumping you 24/7, you have no business being so hot. Its your own damn fault, deal with it.”

“There you go with the victim-blaming again.”

“I’ll do five Hail Marys after I finish doing sinful things to you and racking up another five. Its more efficient to tackle them all at once.”

“Not sure that’s how that works, babe.”

“Eh, guess I’ll just go to hell then. Still worth it. Still your fault. Oh look, I’m naked all of a sudden, how did that happen?”

Scott sighs. “What am I going to do with you?”

“R is for Ravish me, if you’re really looking for suggestions. I can probably do the whole alphabet if you need. Or just do me. Whichever.”

Scott cut off further melodramatic peacocking with a kiss.

Things proceeded to a total media black out from there. Further voyeuristic attempts at seeing the Alpha and his mate get down, get down, would necessitate the invocation of the cautionary tale of the last pack member to not properly respect the sanctity of the inner sanctum of the Vindictive Master of Digital Identities and Other Important Details. His name is Chester, middle initial A., surname with a phonetic similarity to certain orifices. That wasn’t always his name, but it was once Danny got done with him, and that was only after Scott gave him the Pointed Stare of One Who Will Look More Benevolently On Those Who Demonstrate Both Mercy and Restraint.

Tis very much a tale of woe, as Chester is 6′5″, 260 lbs of visually intimidating werewolf muscle, and facial features that when accompanied by choice words and phrases, rather does call to mind certain similarities to certain orifices.

Like I said. Danny is very good at what he does. And everybody loves Danny.

….Aside from all other motivating reasons, its just a good idea in general. 

Y’know.

Practically speaking.