#it probably. wasn't actually supposed to be one

[etheries1015]

after learning Silver uses a BAR OF SOAP to wash his hair...AND wanting to wish him a happy birthday, I decided he must be pampered with a...little spa day, and something a little special near the end <3 Happy birthday, Silver!!

General warnings: gender neutral reader

Upon visiting Silver in his dorm for a small birthday celebration and finding out the unfortunate truth behind his hair-washing habits, you were quick to insist you take him out shopping or teach him the ways of proper hair care.

"I had no clue it wasn't normal to just use a bar of soap," Silver shrugged, "As long as it makes me clean, right?"

"Just hearing you say that hurts," you joked exasperatedly, "I feel it's my duty now to train you in the ways of making your hair clean and feel like you're touching a cloud."

"Well," Silver pondered, "I guess it wont hurt to learn."

"Perfect!" You jumped up from your seat, the Diasomnia lounge, "you guys are done here, right?" Lilia looked as startled as Silver at your sudden outburst, before taking a glance at the already eaten birthday cake and open presents that lay out on the table.

"I suppose it is time to retire, I have a gaming session happening soon anyways," Lilia pointed out, before a sly smile crawled upon his lips and looking at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes, "Feel free to take him!"

"Take me?" Silver perked up, sitting up straight. Giving an...unsettling cackle and grabbing Silvers hands, you began to pull him up and urge him to follow you.

"Perfect. Yes, i'm kidnapping you. Remember, I told you that I left my present for you at Ramshackle anyways. AND this is a perfect opportunity for me to initiate my next mission..."

"Mission...?" you heard Lilia sing his goodbyes and waved a quick farewell to the other members of Diasomnia, before dragging Silver out the door and towards the direction of the hall of mirrors.

"Operation: spoil the birthday boy with a spa day!"

Wearing the world's softest robe you had let him use, Silver dosed off a few times after being completely pampered like a princess, and not as a result of his typical condition. You messaging his scalp was probably the most heavenly thing he had felt in a long time, the way your fingers worked on his head left his eyes fluttering shut. He was honestly sad when he realized he had fallen asleep and missed half of the process, but he could still feel your touch linger on his head and immensely enjoy the newfound softness of his silver locks.

You woke him up when you had placed a cool face mask on him, and fell asleep once more when you had started to massage his tense shoulders and cut his nails... He felt like floating on clouds, and those clouds also smelled like you.

"It's nice..." Silver hummed, eyes fluttering open watching you finish filing one of his nails, "You have a very nice scent. I would like to know where you get your hair products," He smiled at you.

"We can find you a scent that suites you more," you offered, "every person has their own unique scent! I'm sure with some time, we can find the perfect one for you." However, Silver shook his head in earnest. It was much more romantic than he probably intended, yet he leaned forward and took a light smell of your also freshly washed hair.

"I like your scent," he smiled, "besides, it would be nice to share something similar, right? So when we aren't together, there's always a piece of you there. You also convinced me that hair care is more important than I gave it credit for..."

Your face took a rosy hue, you groaned in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands.

"You're so...cheesy! You don't need my shampoo and conditioner to be reminded of me, I actually...got you...something. For your birthday." Silver raised a curious eyebrow and tilted his head with widened eyes.

"I thought you spoiling me with a little 'spa' was my birthday gift? you've already spoiled me plenty, I don't need-"

"Of course that's not all I have planned!" You exasperated, pushing Silver down onto the couch in Ramshackle lounge, "Wait here." Sprinting away, you were back almost as fast as you had left, in your hands you held a small box obviously held for some type of accessory. Taking it gracefully, Silver opened the box to reveal a silver bracelet adorned with...

"Acorns?" Silver asked startled, holding up the bracelet and examining it with curious and starry eyes.

"I saw the one you made for Lilia," You pointed out shyly, "Out of real acorns. I thought of making one myself for you, too...but, I wanted something a little more durable, something you can wear more often. If...you don't mind accessories." You hid your hands behind your back fidgeting with your fingers nervously, before a smile spread ear to ear and cheeks rose with a blush from the male. He gripped the bracelet with eagerness, and you swore the bright look on his face would surely give the sun some competition.

"I love it," Silver replied with a voice dripping in enthusiasm, "I won't be able to wear it while I'm training, but I'll be sure to have it on at all times. I'll take great care of it, thank you." You were visibly relieved, chuckling and bringing your hands to your front as you revealed an exact match of the same bracelet you had just given him.

"i'm glad, otherwise it would have been pretty embarrassing to wear a matching bracelet with nobody actually matching with me..." Silver stared with wide auroral orbs, mouth ajar upon seeing it. "So...we have something to share! Just like you were talking about before, right?"

Engulfing you in a hug after putting on the accessory in one fell swoop, Silver couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of affection for the prefect of ramshackle dorm. He squeezed you tightly, yet not enough to harm you. You smiled and returned the hug in full, chuckling at his sudden display of fondness.

"This has been a wonderful birthday," Silver said, "Thank you, truly. I will remember this day for a very, very long time." leaning into his touch, you pushed aside the urge to tell him he was overreacting, and took the honest boys words at face value.

"Of course...Happy birthday, Silver!"

[shipmansflannels]

"who asked first" with the yellowjackets

yay! I'm back! the decision to open a new blog just for yellowjackets wasn't easy at all, but since it's been a year since this obsession has barely gone away and I already had an extremely confusing blog with layouts and the like, I wanted to start over with this one. hope you like it. I'll make a very simple and small prompt first, and then I'll make the masterlist and the oneshots/fanfics. stay tuned! sorry for any grammatical or coherence errors, english is not my first language and I'm trying to improve!

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who asked first with the yellowjackets girls...

jackie taylor.

well, if we're going to be honest here, you definitely asked first.

of course, jackie had already been rehearsing for weeks how he would ask you out. but she's obviously a girlfaillure, so you definitely asked first.

it was probably when she least expected it. it could be at soccer practice, or when you were coming home from school together and you had the audacity to ask her to go out with her to some hypothetical and boring place in the middle of the street… whatever.

all I know is that this little loser was eager for you to ask, and she definitely rolled out the classic, "took you too long…"

shauna shipman.

again, you asked first.

shauna doesn't have the social tact to ask you out (she's just like me), and drunk is even worse, so you actually had to make the first move most of the time.

just like jackie, it could have been when she was at soccer practice, or when she was alone enough to vent to her journal and you were able to get close to her without scaring her. anyway, the thing is, shauna was already secretly expecting this to happen (a lot of her journal pages were about you btw), so it wasn't a surprise either when you asked her out.

despite everything, you didn't have any difficulties on your first date. she's pleasant company, I suppose.

natalie scatorccio.

one of the rare exceptions where she asked first.

okay, don't be fooled, either. natalie is very cocky from time to time, but asking to go out with you is definitely one of the times she tends to weaken. so, kevyn probably dared her to do it and she just took advantage of her cooler personality to use it on you.

but that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. in fact, it's kind of a good thing (and probably depressing for her) because she only felt like herself when she asked you. I see in nat a huge tendency to ignore some of her feelings, especially when it comes to people she likes.

the invitation was probably also full of teasing on her part, from body language to the words used for it. and somehow she made it look cool and convinced you to accept it.

things that only natalie scatorccio could do.

lottie matthews.

for some reason, I'm 100% sure you asked first.

I know many of us think of lottie as a completely carefree, liberal and often bitchy enough person to ask someone out on a date. but, if we count the pre-crash, I think she was a very insecure person and uncertain of her feelings, more due to the influence of the pills.

so, as incredible as it sounds, you asked first. it was in an extremely relaxed conversation between you that the invitation ended up unintentionally, and she was visibly panicked when she agreed.

lottie is probably the type of person who has a rehearsed speech in front of the mirror while getting ready, and with her enviable style and expensive clothes (some stolen), she would do anything to make your date the perfect date.

taissa turner.

she asked first.

taissa is confident enough to ask you out, I have no doubt about that. but she definitely spent weeks planning the perfect invitation, just in case everything went wrong and she needed to run (just like what happened when she thought about breaking allie's leg before nationals).

anyway, taissa would certainly ask first and it would be quite a surprise for you. taking into account that, from the moment you accepted, you would discover that van also knew about her friend's ideas, and later that half of the team also knew. it would be a shock because you wouldn't understand tai's intentions at first.

but none of them are necessarily bad. one, is that tai was really excited if you accepted, and her anxiety couldn't stop her from wanting to tell the world. two, because she was overly excited that you had agreed to go out with her, and wanted the world to know it as well.

van palmer.

as much as I would really like to prove otherwise, you asked first.

van has the same problem as lottie, but in her case, it's excessively because of the sarcasm jokes and high charisma. she thinks she's being too much for you and that asking for something like that on this level would end up scaring you away.

in the end, it's totally the opposite, but it's going to take van a long time to figure that out, specifically. the invitation would happen when she least expected it, probably when you were feeling confident enough to pass notes to her during classes.

it's a cute invitation, and one that van would hold in question for a long, long time.

misty quigley.

there would be no other answer. she asked first.

misty has no shame in admitting that she has a crush on you. and of course, to ask you out on a date, this shame decreases even more. she doesn't even care if she will be made fun of by her colleagues, what really matters is that she planned everything for you to accept.

and when I say everything, it really means everything.

from the moment she will slide up to your table and quietly ask if you accept, to the tone of voice she will use to persuade your brain to accept, to the place she will take you hand in hand and then let it slide. … she literally thought of every detail.

and, well, knowing misty quigley's ability to create plans, the whole thing worked out… until you figured it all out and admitted that you liked it even more, much to her surprise.

laura lee.

you asked first, of course. there would be no other answer either.

of course, not ruling out the possibility of laura lee asking first, given her hidden impulsive personality, but, in this case, taking the obviousness into account, you asked, and had to be careful with every line said in the invitation.

of course, it needed to be at a time when you were alone, because you were afraid that pressure from other people would make you feel suffocated. this, of course, did not happen. she thought it was a classic weekend outing, like you guys usually did, until she realized your real intentions.

and, truly, at no point did it make her feel restrained or scared. she was ready to be vulnerable and be herself around you, no matter what.

(but, if you casually ask lottie at some point, she will definitely claim that she saw laura lee rehearsing some speeches and compliments for you in the locker room mirror…)

[hauntedestheart]

Security Footage - Body Swaps (Part 2)

A continuation of the story started here- fair warning, this is a long one

The instant Andy realized the swap was starting he retreated to his own room, managing to stumble there even as he felt his muscles withering and his bones shifting inside of him, and he locked the door behind him so Trevor couldn't follow. Andy knew that his boyfriend just wanted to be helpful but these changes were often more uncomfortable than he liked to let on, and he preferred to shield his sweet little guy from as much of the messiness as he could.

Besides that, he always preferred to have a moment to himself to take stock of the changes he'd be stuck with for the duration of the latest swap and this... this was gonna be a rough one.

Andy stared in the mirror and a pudgy old white guy stared back- he knew his dad would lecture him about calling someone in their early fifties "old" but since Andy had been about half that age a few hours ago, he sure as hell was gonna be overdramatic about it. He was bald at 23! That wasn't fair.

He ran his hands over his smooth head and shuddered, which made him even more disturbed because his belly wobbled with him when he moved- his abs would never do that to him. Experimentally he lifted his arm up and tried to flex, but the flesh on his arm just hung downwards instead of rising up like he was used to. It didn't seem like this guy had even looked at a gym in years! Andy didn't understand how some people were able to live without muscles, and he sorely wanted his back.

He tried in vain to make his pecs bounce but the masses on his current chest were sagging fat rather than trained pectorals so they just sat there- it was a strange experience because his brain knew the command to make it happen, knew where the muscles were supposed to be, but the body just wouldn't respond. None of the bodies he switched into could ever make their chest move and he was sick of it, sick of having the things that he worked for taken away from him. Call it vanity or whatever but his physicality had been a core part of his identity ever since he was a kid and he didn't want to be away from it for a second, let alone let somebody else have it.

But the worst part of getting a new body was always checking out the oh-so-important organ that no amount of working out would change, something he had to actually lift up his gut to see this time, and the sight of the wrinkly cock and balls now hanging between his mushy thighs made him want to cry. Size wasn't everything, Andy knew that, but he also wasn't going to lie and pretend that being well hung wasn't a ton of fun, so going from packing the kind of equipment that made other guys jealous to a well below average penis was just... emasculating.

And to top it all off, his knees were killing him.

Andy now kept clothing in a variety of sizes in his closet for occasions like this and he shuffled through them robotically, grimacing when he realized that he was probably going to need the largest sizes to accommodate the waistline he was stuck with. He settled on a pair of sweatpants with an elastic waistband and an XL cotton tee that still rode up slightly and exposed a hint of a hairy belly, and he hated how he looked but at least he felt marginally better once his borrowed body was covered up.

"Can I come in?" Trevor called from the hallway, and Andy hesitated. His natural instinct whenever this shit happened was to hide away in shame, to not let Trevor see him like this, but he knew he needed his boyfriend's help to fix things so he swallowed his pride and unlocked the door.

Trevor slipped into the room almost shyly, keeping his eyes on the floor for a moment, before working up the courage to look at what he would be stuck with as a boyfriend for the time being. One thing Andy admired about Trevor was his poker face- he was very controlled with his emotions, especially compared to the way Andy expressed his feelings with his entire physicality -but despite his placid expression Andy couldn't imagine he was feeling anything other than disgust at the body before him.

"You hate it," Andy's shoulders slumped and he allowed himself to collapse backwards onto his bed like a sack of potatoes, wincing at the whine that the springs gave beneath his weight. He stared blankly at the ceiling and sighed. "I'm a gross old man now and you're never gonna be attracted to me again."

"No, it's just-" Trevor stumbled over his words for a moment as he thought of the best way to phrase things, biting his lip and quirking his head to the side. "It's just the clothes I think, I'm not used to seeing a guy like that in athleisure. You look like you should be wearing a suit or something. That's all."

He waited for a response but Andy didn't say anything, he just kept staring up at the ceiling with his arms spread out like he wanted his hands as far away from his new body as possible, and Trevor's heart broke a little. Admittedly the man Andy had swapped with was... not exactly Trevor's type, but that didn't really matter. What mattered was that it was Andy inside, Trevor's boyfriend who he loved for more than just his body, so he got over himself and laid on the bed next to his now-middle-aged boyfriend.

He rested his head on Andy's temporary chest and the position was a strange sort of parody of the beginning of the evening, as if someone had taken a snapshot of the young couple lying together and used photoshop to replace the golden skinned hunk with a pasty dad bod, but when Trevor closed his eyes it didn't matter what they looked like. As long as he could feel Andy's heart beating, then they could be together.

"I know this is hard for you but you don't have to worry, we'll fix this," Trevor whispered soothingly, and he pressed a kiss into the side of Andy's chin. "We always do. You'll be back to your stupidly pretty self in no time, okay?"

Andy grumbled something incoherent and likely whiney, but he wrapped his arms around Trevor and pulled the skinny young man closer to his side again, which helped both of them relax a bit.

"At least I know who this guy is, he's my classics professor," Andy finally said, and he shuddered uncomfortably. "It's so fucked up to think that I was just sitting there in class while he was watching me, thinking about how he was gonna steal my body."

"Well, it's always nice to have a lead," Trevor mused, half-formed plans already springing into his mind. He nudged Andy on the side. "And he's local too. Remember that time the guy you swapped with lived on a boat? That was a hassle."

"Don't remind me," Andy gave a small chuckle, his laugh hitting the same cadence even with a different voice box. "I got my body back with sunburn on my ass because he kept sunbathing nude, I could barely sit down for a week."

Trevor smiled at the memory of the week Andy spent awkwardly shuffling around. "I'm aware, I was the one who had to rub aloe on your butt twice a day."

"Don't act like you didn't love that," Andy turned his neck to try to playfully bat his head against Trevor but he hissed with pain as he pulled a muscle he didn't realize would be stiff. He rubbed his fingers into his neck and groaned. "Honestly I don't even blame this guy for swapping with me, I feel so gross right now."

"It could be worse?" Trevor offered a weak smile, but his boyfriend remained unamused.

"Could be better too," Andy grumbled, and he glared down at his crotch (which he couldn't even see thanks to his new gut). "You know, just once, I'd like to get a new body and find out my dick is bigger. Is that too much to ask?"

"I mean... kinda?" Trevor rolled his eyes- he'd never cease to find it amusing what a size queen his boyfriend was. "Andy, if your dick gets any bigger you're gonna hurt somebody. The rest of us make do with perfectly normal sized genitalia, maybe it'll do you some good to spend some time living like us common men live."

Andy raised his eyebrow and shot his boyfriend some major side eye. "First off, you know I love your dick and would gladly take it any day over this one," he paused in his rant to bury his face in Trevor's hair for a moment a plant a kiss there. "But more importantly, let me point out that you benefit from my big dick more than anyone, Trev, so you can act cute about it but until we fix this you're the one getting screwed by this thing." He bounced his hips up and down, watching as Trevor's eyes were drawn to his diminished manhood, and he smirked. His hand snaked down and tweaked Trevor's butt. "You're not so above it all- your cute little ass has been spoiled so I know you'll be missing my big guy in no time."

"Hey, I top sometimes!" Trevor protested- weakly, but he protested nonetheless. Being a twink didn't mean he was always the bottom, especially since it would be a shame to waste an ass like Andy's. "You like it when I fuck you. Maybe this is my moment to take over as the big man in the relationship!"

"Oh yeah? You're gonna go top full time?" Andy scoffed and rolled over on the bed, lifting himself up on his hands and knees (despite the way his joints protested) and putting Professor Smith's less-than-impressive buttocks on full display. He twisted his face into an exaggerated smolder and wiggled his hips at Trevor like a challenge. "Doesn't this look so sexy? Have fun going to town on this guy."

Trevor stared at the shapeless expanse of wrinkled flesh Andy was presenting to him and his mind drifted back to his boyfriend's real ass, that toned bubble of perfection that some old man was running around doing god knows what with. He loved his boyfriend for more than just his body of course, but if he had the option of which butt he wanted to sleep next to at night... well there was no contest really.

"Point taken," he admitted with a sigh, holding back a laugh as he watched Andy (still unused to how out-of-shape his new body was) struggle to stand up from the kneeling position he'd placed him in.

Still, always proud when he could get one over on Trevor, Andy smirked and puffed his chest out- a behavioral tic that looked far less impressive now that his chest was sagging man boobs rather than bulging pecs, but it made Trevor's heart swell to see a glimmer of his boyfriend's usual confidence back. Trevor sprang up to his feet as well and smacked Andy on his non-existent behind.

"Now get your flat ass moving so we can get your body back."

🔀

Valencia Street, three blocks west of the college campus, had a nickname: Party Avenue.

Contrary to popular belief, Fraternity Row was actually fairly tame due to the intense restrictions imposed by the school's charter onto affiliated groups- but private residences were not bound by the same rules, so students seeking debauchery had gradually clustered in close proximity until Party Avenue was born. Each weekend, once classes were released, the houses lit up and the students... cut loose.

While school administration vehemently denied the existence of any sort of underage drinking or illegal debauchery anywhere near their campus, faculty were firmly advised (for no particular reason) to stay away from that block on the weekends or risk liability. As such, the street had attained a sort of mythos amongst the teachers of the school as a modern day Sodom and Gomorrah that swallowed their students on the weekend and spat them back out on Monday for class with a hangover.

Such Earthly delights were denied to the professors... but fortunately Bernard Smith was not a professor anymore, he was a twenty-something college student named Andy. And Andy was ready to have some fun on Friday night.

Walking down Party Avenue while flashing lights spilled from windows and muffled music filled the air felt almost illegal to Professor Smith, but cloaked behind his new face none of the passing students gave him a second glance (save for the occasional double take from someone struck by his looks). The older man felt like he'd become one of the explorers he'd studied in grad school, boldly venturing into new territory in search of treasure- except the treasure he was on the hunt for was far more precious than dusty gold or ancient artifacts. No, he was on the lookout for something... fresher.

"Hi there ladies," he winked at a group of passing girls, who glanced him up and down erupted into pleased giggles as they waved back at him.

Bernard continued his journey with a spring in his step that came from feeling like a complete and total stud; thus far, being a hot young man was intoxicating. All of his aches and pains were gone and replaced with a boundless energy that fizzed through his veins and made him feel like he could lift a house and run for miles with it, but he resisted the urge and instead took things nice and slow. There was no rush, and he wanted to enjoy the first night of the rest of his life in this new body. No sense in skipping to dessert, he wanted to enjoy the full five course feast first.

His new cock seemed to disagree with him, perking up eagerly at the sight of every young woman they passed and trying its damndest to tear through his dress pants to get to her, but Bernard could hardly be upset about having such a virile set of tools at his disposal. He'd had more erections in the past hour with Andy's body than he'd had in the past year with his old one!

A stranger to this area without any clue where to go, the professor treated his new penis almost like a compass pointing the way towards the true North that was the pleasure he sought. He didn't know where it was, but he'd know it when he found it.

"Andy?" someone called out as he rounded a corner.

Bernard didn't think much of that and continued walking, ignoring as the voice repeated the name several times, and it wasn't until a boy ran across the street waving his arms and pointing at him that the professor realized that he was the Andy being addressed.

"Andy Douglass?" the young man asked, clearly very excited to see the boy who's body Bernard had stolen, and without asking he greeted Bernard with a one armed hug and a clap on the back. "My man! Remember me? It's Kirk! Long time no see!"

The older man resisted the urge to grimace and pulled away, taking a moment to assess the young man. "Kirk" was a tall, muscular black boy (though not as tall or muscular as Bernard's current body was, he noted proudly) with a relaxed attitude, a devil-may-care smile, and dim eyes- carbon copies of this exact student had filtered through Professor Smith's classroom for years, another brainless jock who only cared about drinking and screwing. He despised the type.

The most notable thing about Kirk was that instead of clothes, he was wearing a stereotypical "bedsheet toga-" one which the professor knew looked nothing like the genuine article would, and he was deeply unimpressed. Still, because this was his life now, he figured he should play nice.

"Oh yes, Kirk! Yes, it's me, Andy," Bernard cleared his throat and prepared to drop into character- he wasn't an old college professor anymore, this was his peer now. He had to talk to him in a language he understood. "Whazzup bro, how are you hanging this evening?"

"I'm chillin', I'm chillin'. Just out with the boys-" Kirk pointed across the street to a gaggle of equally cliche college students, all clad in similar sheet outfits, and they all waved and hollered over at Bernard. The old man gave them a half-hearted wave, barely concealing his disgust, and returned his attention to the one in front of him, who was still staring at him with those dumb eyes of his. "Man, it's crazy to see you out on a Friday night. You kinda disappeared once you started dating that guy- what was his name, Trent? The little guy. How's he doing?"

"Guy?" Now that caught Bernard's attention.

Andy Douglass was dating a boy? he marveled to himself. That would certainly explain why the young man had never flirted with any of the girls from class. The professor had half-suspected that a stud like that must have a girl back home but he would never have guessed about a boy because Andy just seemed so... manly. Subconsciously, the body snatcher reached up and rubbed a finger over the stubble that adorned his strong jaw, arm muscles battling for space with his shoulder, and he shook his head in disbelief. Kids today and their experiments.

Fortunately the many erections Bernard had gotten in this body from glancing at passing girls assured him he was still a staunch heterosexual, but the reveal had still thrown him for a loop. Thank goodness he'd taken this body, lest the women on campus be deprived of its assets!

Realizing that Kirk was still staring at him with a confused look on his face, Bernard cleared his throat (which rumbled rich and low) and responded.

"Oh yes, him. We won't be seeing much more of him anymore, I've turned over a new leaf- turned out the whole boys thing wasn't for me," he shrugged and threw a rueful smile on his face. "Actually, I'm out tonight on the prowl for some female companionship, if you catch my drift."

"Shit, it didn't work out?" Surprise actually brought a bit of life into Kirk's dull eyes as he shook his head sadly. "Sorry man, but hey, it's his loss. He's a fucking dumbass if he let a catch like you go," Kirk turned his head and spat into the street, then looked sidelong at Bernard with a smirk. "But it sounds like what you need to get over him is to get your dick wet."

"Indeed," Bernard agreed heartily, though the crude expression did make him cringe internally, and he spoke more truth than Kirk would understand. "It's been far too long since I've been in the arms of a woman and I'm starving for a screw."

His dick was hard once again just at the mere thought of being with a woman and he had to reach down to adjust himself before the bulge in his pants got too obscene- Kirk watched him struggle with his endowment and gave a laugh.

"Well if I remember anything about Andy, you're not gonna have to go begging for your rebound," the young man scanned Andy's body up and down and gave a whistle of appreciation. "Damn dude, you're looking swole!"

"Swole?" Bernard patted at his face, feeling for swelling. "Where?"

"Everywhere, man, the gym's really paying off," Kirk reached forward and grabbed one of Andy's biceps, giving the firm muscle a squeeze. "The ladies are gonna take one look at those pythons and their panties'll come flying off."

"Oh," Bernard thought. "It's a compliment."

"Yes, I've got quite a remarkable body, don't I?" Bernard muttered, and unable to resist showing off a bit, he made his bicep jump under Kirk's hand. One of his hands flew up and carded through the meadow of locks on top of his head, and he beamed with a mouth full of white teeth. "All of these muscles, this stunning face, and I've got hair! I'm a modern day Adonis."

Rather than being put off by his friend's sudden vanity, Kirk seemed excited by it, actually clapping his hands together and giving a holler in a show of appreciation. Bernard was starting to like him a bit more.

"Hell yeah, dude! Hashtag love yourself, king," he cheered, but then he paused and cocked his head to the side like a dog. "But what's up with the fit though? You're dressed like you're going to a job interview."

Professor Smith looked down at his clothes: a tight red button up dress shirt that hugged his arms (unbuttoned so it would billow open every now and then and allow for a glimpse of his pectorals) with a matching blue tie and some smart dress pants. Admittedly, the dress pants were a bit snug around the rear end (Bernard was half-worried he would burst the seams before the night was up), but otherwise it was a perfectly respectable way to dress for an evening on the town.

Young people have no sense of class, Bernard thought to himself as he eyed Kirk's wrinkled sheet toga.

"I don't know what you mean, I'm dressed to impress," Bernard said defensively, shaking his arms out and adjusting his cuffs a bit. He glared pointedly at Kirk's excuse for an outfit. "Besides, I think it's very rich of you to critique my smart attire when you're literally wrapped in a bedsheet."

"Oh, you like that?" Kirk stuck his tongue out and struck a pose like he was modelling the unsightly garment. "Lee scored an invite to a kegger some some business students are throwing and it's Greek themed, so I'm dressed like fucking Julius Caesar."

Professor Smith grimaced. "Caesar was Roman."

"Whatever," Kirk rolled his eyes and waved his hand as if to say same difference, and Bernard was half-tempted to argue before remembering that he wasn't a professor anymore and the ignorance of young men like this was no longer his responsibility. The thought brightened him up considerably, and he was a good mood when Kirk spoke next. "Anyways, this party sounds like it's gonna be lit! You should tag along, we haven't partied together in forever. I can be your wingman for tonight, help you bag the hottest chicks."

And that- Bernard thought that was the smartest thing Kirk had said all evening. Now he had a destination, a party invite, and a handy translator who could help him disguise his complete lack of knowledge of the drivel that kids today passed off as slang. It didn't matter that listening to Kirk talk made him want to tear his new hair out, he'd be leaving him for the company of a woman soon enough!

Besides, he thought as he looked over at the gaggle of unwashed college jocks who would be his companions for the evening, it would do these men some good to see how a real man conducts himself. Perhaps they might learn something from him- though if the grades Professor Smith had been giving out in his classes were any indication, the chances of that were slim.

🔀

Trevor had a separate Instagram page exclusively devoted to following the biggest party animals on campus- not because he cared, but because they were useful. As inane as these peoples' compulsive need to broadcast their behavior to the world was, it also meant that their accounts were a treasure trove of information on where the best parties were and who was at them. All Trevor had to do when Andy got swapped was fire up the app and scan the sea of photos/videos for a glimpse of his pretty face... or more frequently, his ass, which the people who stole his body often left that hanging out and drew cameras to it like nothing else.

"Thank god we live in a surveillance state," Trevor remarked dryly as he picked his way through the crowded living room of the random house party they'd tracked Professor Smith to.

"Speak for yourself," Andy replied, wincing when he looked back at the photo they'd found of his body posing with a drink in one hand and a girl hanging from the other. "It's not your picture floating around on the web."

Seeing pictures like this was always surreal for Andy because it was like getting a glimpse into an alternate reality, one where he'd gone down an different path and become a mindless party animal. The type of guy who pounded down beers, screamed obnoxiously loud, and spent every night with a different girl- visually, he fit the stereotype perfectly, but that wasn't who he wanted to be. Unfortunately, since other people often ran around with his face, he didn't really get a choice in what people thought of him.

While he still enjoyed going out with friends, he was past his party boy days, so a random rager like this on the outskirts of campus wasn't really his scene anymore. Still, at least he was more used to the loud music and crowded hallways than poor Trevor, who seemed to be having an awful time.

"I hate how crowded this place is!" Trevor rose up on his toes and tried to peek over the crowd, grunting in frustration as his eyes roamed a wall of college students' backs. "Why are there people so many people here? Don't they have lives?"

Andy snorted as he watched his petite boyfriend struggling, and it was so cute he wanted to pull him close and give him a kiss, but he resisted the urge to do so when he still looked like their professor. He accidentally made eye contact with a student, who gave him a bewildered look, and he awkwardly averted his eyes. Andy sighed- he was used to people eyeing him up at parties but usually it was because they were checking him out, not because they were confused why he was there.

He returned his attention to Trevor, who was still laser focused on their mission, and quickened his pace so he wouldn't be left behind (doing his best to ignore the way that his fat wobbled as he moved).

"You know Trev," he remarked, glancing around the lively soiree at the smiling faces and dancing bodies. "Speaking as a reformed party boy, I think most people would describe going out and having a good time on a Friday night as 'a life.'"

"Yes, well," the smaller boy huffed and gave a little hop to try to get a bit more height to search the room for glimpses of brown skin and muscles. "They should do it quieter."

Then, as if to spite Trevor's request, the clue they were looking for came in the form of someone being loud.

A group of voices chanting "Andy! Andy! Andy!" echoed over the din of the party, and the boyfriends exchanged a nervous glance before rushing off to find the source of the noise. They traced the shouts out into the (spacious) backyard of the house where a group of clearly drunk guys wrapped in bedsheet togas surrounded a large keg of beer, all of them losing their minds with glee as they pushed a familiar face forwards towards the metal barrel.

There was a brief moment of relief when the boyfriends saw that they had finally located Andy's body, but it was quickly replaced by anger and frustration as they examined the state that said body was in.

Professor Smith seemed to have made himself comfortable in the hunky body he'd stolen: the man was clad only in a bedsheet loosely wrapped around his form (in some approximation of a toga) which hung off of his shoulder and put the rippling muscles of his upper body on clear display. Lipstick stains showing where kisses had been were smudged across the exposed skin, crime scenes in the shiny layer of sweat that coated him, and a blue necktie was tied sideways around his head like he had jumped off the screen of some '80s movie.

If the way he was stumbling around tipsily was any indication, he had been drinking, and as he leaned forwards and grabbed on to the keg with a dopey grin on his face, it seemed he intended to drink some more.

"Oh fuck," Andy groaned, hiding his face behind his hands in shame. Not a fucking keg stand. "Trev, he's making me look like a douche!"

With too much confidence for someone who had only had that body for a few hours, Professor Smith leaped off the ground and jackknifed his legs up into the air, powerful muscles straining as he pulled himself into a handstand position atop the keg. (For a moment, Andy regretted all the time he spent working on core strength- but in his defense, he didn't know that it would be used for this!) Two guys slipped behind him, each one grabbing a leg, and they held him in position as someone else slipped the nozzle of the keg into his mouth.

"Chug! Chug! Chug!" the partygoers chanted, and Andy and Trevor watched in horror as someone turned the faucet and the man in Andy's body began to suck down a copious amount of alcohol.

The boys holding his legs shook him back and forth encouragingly and the sheet toga (which had been tangled around his legs and barely hanging on) slipped down and revealed that Bernard was wearing nothing underneath except his borrowed birthday suit. The reveal of Andy's massive cock, hanging high above the crowd like it was sent from heaven itself, drew another round of cheers from the crowd, and every girl in attendance began whispering to each other. Trevor frowned, feeling a bit jealous for no real reason.

"What the fuck?" Andy's annoyingly white face flushed beet red as he watched his privates swinging around in the air- just because he was proud of his equipment didn't mean he wanted everyone to see it! Fortunately his face was shoved into a barrel and it was rather dark outside so any footage would be blurry, but still, the number of phones he saw pointed at his naked body made him cringe. "Why is my dick hanging out? He was definitely wearing clothes in the photo we saw earlier, what the fuck happened to them?"

"Guess he decided he didn't need them looking like that," Trevor mused, unimpressed by the professor's lack of imagination in how he would use Andy's body. The boy was so used to seeing other people parading around naked as his boyfriend that his perspective on the scene was almost clinical- though he did take a moment to admire the way that the perky butt Andy worked so hard for jutted out nicely when his legs were in the air. "You look good upside down."

"Oh no you don't," Andy slapped his hands over Trevor's eyes, glaring over at himself territorially. "No sexualizing my body until I'm back inside it."

One of the boys holding Professor Smith up gave his ass a smack, allowing everyone a front row seat to what Andy's juicy butt looked like when it jiggled, and he and his partner lowered the stud to the ground. The professor stumbled a bit, a small amount of beer dribbling out of his still full mouth before he managed to swallow the rest of his drink, then he shook his head and let out a huge belch that echoed out into the night.

His companions (for some reason) let out a huge cheer at that and swarmed around him, and emboldened by their attention, Professor Smith threw his head back and let out a roar. As the other boys chanted Andy's name he pounded on his chest like a gorilla, his fists making meaty thwacks as they shook his toned pecs, and it seemed for a moment that he was on the verge of turning into a literal party animal.

The real Andy was growing progressively madder and madder at the spectacle, but before he could do anything, he felt someone tap him on his shoulder. Barely managing to keep a lid on his rage, he turned and was faced with a young woman he vaguely recognized from class staring up at him with confusion.

"Professor Smith?" the girl asked, eyeing him with a mix of surprsie and suspicion. "Are you allowed to be at a student party?"

"No, I'm not," Andy hissed through gritted teeth, whipping his head around to glare over at the impostor wearing his face. "Let me go fix that."

And then he stormed off without another word, leaving the poor student standing there looking bewildered and most likely wondering if she should call someone. Trevor just shrugged at her and hurried away after his irate boyfriend.

🔀

Meanwhile, Bernard Smith was having the best night of his life.

As a teacher, he'd absolutely hated college boys like Kirk. They were loud, obnoxious, and only seemed to care about when the next party was. But now that he was one of them? They were his best bros!

Now that the barrier of age and profession was gone, he found that he had a lot in common with them: just like them, he loved drinking and kissing hot girls. And in light of the recent breakup that Bernard had manufactured, the horde of college boys had been very eager to reacquaint "Andy" with the party-goer lifestyle, guiding him around the festivities all evening and always making sure he had a drink in his hand and a girl on his arm.

And the girls... the girls were glorious.

After years of staring at pretty young college girls from the front of the classroom, the professor was finally allowed to touch them, and he had gone positively wild with the privilege. All evening long he had been gorging himself on forbidden fruit, making great use of Andy's incredible sex appeal to seduce every girl that crossed his path. He'd become a regular Casanova, barely able to get started kissing one girl with one girl before another caught his eye and whisked him away for a make out session of her own.

Getting to grab a barely-legal girl's breasts without her screaming for help was incredibly hot, but the thing Bernard found the most erotic was the way the girls worshipped the peaks and valleys of his rock hard body. Still getting a feel for what his new body was capable of, he'd yet to bed any of them, but if the power in his hips as he ground his huge cock into their thighs and the ease with which he hoisted girls up and pinned them to the wall was any indication, he was in for a borderline spiritual experience when he finally decided to go there.

He wasn't reliving his youth- this was better than his youth! In his youth he hadn't been a hot hung hunk with no cares except which of the girls surrounding him he'd be taking home at the end of the night... that is, if he settled for just one. Perhaps he'd even invite all of them!

The notion was impossibly greedy but well, tonight was a night for indulgence, wasn't it?

His new body was a wonder- he half-suspected he had enough in his loins to satisfy all of these girls and then some. The amount of alcohol he'd imbibed would have made his old cock into a limp noodle and made his liver cry out for help, but as the beer sloshed around in the guts hidden behind his new six pack, all he felt was a pleasant buzz and an easy looseness to his limbs. This body had even made drinking better!

His current healthy cock was still fully operational, something comically obvious at a glance thanks to the sizeable tent in the front of his sheet toga that bounced with every movement he made. The idea of walking around with such an obvious erection would have been mortifying just yesterday, but his new body had allowed him to shed his inhibitions as freely as he had shed his clothes and now he wanted everyone to see that he had a big fat boner. He was damn proud of the thing!

That was the greatest thing that he'd stolen from Andy: confidence. The knowledge that everyone wanted to see him, and that finally, he was someone worth looking at. (Although the penis was great too.)

He shivered as he felt a cool breeze waft across his balls- he'd long ago ditched his formal wear in favor of one of the simple togas that the other boys around him were wearing. At first he'd thought they'd all looked ridiculous, but the more he drank, the better the idea sounded. What was he all buttoned up for? Why had he bothered stealing the body of a young man if he was still going to behave like he was old? He'd discarded those stuffy old clothes in a corner somewhere and proudly joined the ranks of the toga clad college boys.

When in Rome, he thought to himself, not even caring that he'd just conflated the Greek and Roman empires (something he'd failed many a student for).

Besides allowing him to fit in with his new "bros," the bastardized toga also displayed his body perfectly and allowed plenty of places for girls to rub their hands over his bulging muscles- a convenience several were taking advantage of right now.

A blonde on his left and a brunette on his right... he was in heaven.

"You're so big," purred the brown haired girl as she rubbed at his belly- focusing mainly on his six pack, but every so often her hand "accidentally" brushed against the head of his cock. "I love big guys like you."

"Oh yeah? You like what you see?" he clenched his stomach, causing his abs to flex beneath her hand, and she cooed in delight. A glance down at her dark brown bosoms peeking out the top of her barely-there shirt made him pretty happy too.

"I love it," she grabbed her shoulder and tugged him down so she could whisper in his ear. "And I'd love to see more."

A shiver ran down Bernard's back all the way down to his cock, and a small wet spot appeared in the front of his sheet toga. He brushed off the girl who was on his other side (who pouted as she stomped away) and grabbed the other girl by her waist, yanking her close and crashing their lips together. His tongue thrust into her mouth and the two shared a long, deep kiss for a moment before he pulled back.

"Say, how old are you?" he asked, and she looked at him strangely.

"Twenty-four," she said. "Why, am I too old for you?"

Bernard let out a moan of lust and pounced on her, sending the two tumbling to the ground right there on the patio for everyone to see, and his gaggle of new buddies erupted into cheers. He paused in his make out session and looked up so he could shoot his boys a cocky smile, but froze when he saw a familiar face storming towards him.

"Get off of her you thief!" the real Andy bellowed, shoving his way through a group of guys to glower down at the body snatcher currently misusing his body, and the party goers around him erupted into chatter.

The version of "himself" on the floor had frozen in place, staring up the real Andy with an expression of shock on his face, and the girl beneath him (oblivious to the interruption) was still sucking on his neck. The sight of his body in such an X-rated position scandalized Andy (what exactly was this guy's plan, fuck a girl on the lawn in front of a crowd?) but as he glanced around at the attentive crowd, he knew that getting seen being manhandled by a professor would be worse, so he held himself back and clenched his fists by his side as he waited for the thief to respond.

A moment later, the thief snapped out of his stupor and an evil looking grin appeared split his face.

"What the fuck are you talking about old man?" Bernard responded, injecting venom into those last two words, and he rolled his hips and ground his crotch into the girl beneath him (who squeaked with delight). "I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm trying to enjoy myself."

"Yo, aren't you a professor here?" Kirk piped up, glancing between the two with confusion. He grabbed the man he thought to be Professor Smith by the shoulder and gripped him tightly. "Andy, is this guy bothering you?"

Not fucking Kirk, Andy thought. The two had lived in the same dorm freshman year and crossed paths out a lot back in his party days, but Andy had begun avoiding the guy for being annoying as hell and partying too hard. But it looks like the "new" Andy had become fast friends with Kirk, and was picking up some of his bad habits. This guy is the worst.

"Step the fuck off dude," he groaned, shoving Kirk on the shoulder, and (caught off-guard) the boy stumbled back into his posse without much resistance. The group erupted into nondescript hollering, shaking fists angrily, and Trevor decided to step in while everyone else was distracted.

The sight of his boyfriend's body being used to make out with another girl filled him with hatred, but he channeled that into a cold, calculating rage chilled the air between him and body snatcher as Trevor leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"Actually I think you'll want to hear what we have to say, Andy," Trevor hissed the name out through gritted teeth, and it made the hairs on the back of the thief's next stand up. "Somewhere private. There are some things I think you'll want to hear about that involve the 'project' you were working on."

There was a hint of steel in Trevor's voice that compelled Bernard to listen to the strange boy, and undercurrent of a threat that was just intriguing enough that the professor reluctantly pulled himself away from the embrace of the girl in his arms and rose up to his feet.

His abandoned partner scrambled to her feet and grabbed his hand, staring at him with disbelief. "You're leaving?"

Bernard turned to look at the beautiful young woman and grinned, yanking her closer and crashing their mouths together for a deep kiss that lasted about fifteen seconds too long- but he was staring into his old body's eyes the whole time, savoring the rage he saw on the face of the former Andy, who was powerless to stop him. He pulled away and smacked her on the ass for good measure.

"Don't worry sweet cheeks, I'll be right back," he winked. "I don't plan on going anywhere."

🔀

The three retreated into the house (Bernard shouting some weak excuse to his new friends that they were all too drunk to care about anyways) and made their way down a random hallway, pushing open doors to reveal packed tableaus until they found a bedroom that was only occupied by a single couple making out on the bed.

"Out, we need to deal with something," Trevor commanded them, and the pair were so confused by the sudden appearance of the mismatched trio that they obeyed without question, zipping up their pants and brushing past Professor Smith in Andy's body as he strutted confidently through the doorway.

Although he'd agreed to go off with them, Bernard wasn't worried at all about Andy and the other boy; actually he was feeling quite cocky. After all, he was the smart one here and he held all the cards... and he knew just how to remind these two kids who was the alpha in this situation.

Bernard casually let his "sheet toga" slip to the floor to stand butt naked, shamelessly flaunting the beautiful new body that was now his in front of its previous owner, and he flung himself onto the bed with the ease of a man in his early twenties. He leaned against the bedframe and crossed his arms behind his head, his powerful biceps displayed proudly, and made sure to spread his thick legs so that his opponents could have a clear view of the prize-worthy cock and balls he possessed. He had no doubt he made quite a sight, and just to rub salt in the wound he looked straight at the real Andy and made a big show of scanning his former body up and down. His eyes lingered pointedly on its bald head and sagging gut, and an ugly smile split his handsome face as he locked on to his watery old eyes.

"How can I help you Professor Smith and-" he glanced over at Andy's smaller brown-skinned companion and sneered. "And you must be my ex-boyfriend. Trent, was it?"

"Trevor," the boy muttered, boldly holding eye contact with the body snatcher rather than giving in to his intimidation tactics, but Bernard wasn't phased. His new body outclassed Trevor's in every aspect- if anything, he was just surprised that a hunk like Andy had chosen to settle down with a boy like that.

"You're rather scrawny, aren't you?" he remarked, looking down at his pecs as he gave them an exaggerated flex, then back up at Trevor with a pitying smile on his face. "No wonder I broke up with you when I have a body that looks like this."

Incensed by the attack on his boyfriend, Andy shoved himself between the two and glared down at the body snatcher lounging on the bed with all the rage he could muster. Getting a view of himself from the outside always gave him a shocking perspective on how other people saw him- his gorgeous body with its smooth caramel skin and carefully sculpted muscles (his workout routine was hitting right) sprawled out long and large was an impressive sight, but when he looked at his face and saw the sheer malice radiating from the soul hiding behind those eyes, it sent chills down his spine. He was sure that he'd never looked like that.

"You don't have shit actually," Andy shouted, mustering up his courage and jabbing a finger accusingly at Professor Smith, and the man wearing his face laughed at him. "You just stole my body!"

"Excellent deduction skills Mr. Douglass," Bernard sneered, rolling his eyes sarcastically. "What gave it away? Was it the back pains? The baldness? The skin color? Or maybe..." the professor reached down between his legs and took Andy's girthy member in his hands, shaking its length back and forth with a devious grin on his face. "Maybe it was that little limp thing between your legs that you're stuck with now."

From the way his old face grew pinched and red, Bernard knew he'd struck a nerve with that one. The memory of what his old cock was like was still fresh in his mind and he didn't envy Andy one bit- or the little boyfriend, for that matter.

"Regardless of what it was that sparked the epiphany your juvenile pea brain," he continued, hammering the nail in a bit further just to enjoy the look of shame on the formerly young man's face. "Maybe if you'd applied some of those skills to your classwork you'd be getting an A! You should be thanking me- stealing my body was the only way you were going to get a degree."

"Shut up," Andy snapped, desperately wishing that he still had his own body so he could do that thing where he puffed himself up and made himself look scary to get an edge in an argument. As it was, all the weight he had to throw around was fat. "I'm not gonna take shit from some old body snatcher- and stop touching my dick!"

Although the professor obviously wasn't turned on by the sight of his disgusting old body, he couldn't deny the sick sense of pleasure he got from toying with his new cock while maintaining eye contact with its real owner, and his manhood just grew more intimidating every second. The mind games were working- the way the body snatcher rolled it around in his hands so lecherously was disturbing to Andy and set him a bit off-balance.

Andy's dick, not caring at all that it was being used for evil, flopped around looking happy and heavy in the thief's hands and engorged itself with more blood.

Traitor, Andy though spitefully. What was the point of having a big dick if it wasn't on your side?

"From what I've heard, you don't seem to mind when another man touches your dick!" Bernard taunted, malice bubbling up from deep within him. He knew it was something of a playground insult, but he was far past the Rubicon at this point and might as well play dirty.

The professor glanced at Andy's boyfriend and shuddered at the thought of the big dick in his hands being used to pleasure the scrawny young man- or worse, the little fellow mounting Andy's sturdy frame and jamming his own prick into the annoyingly bouncy ass Bernard currently possessed. Not while I'm in charge, he thought to himself.

"I'm a liberal, of course, I don't have anything against gay people, but I must say it seems like such a shame that you were wasting this incredible body on men. A masculine form like this deserves to know the love of a good woman! Preferably a new one every night," Bernard smirked and slid his hands down to cup his balls, gently rolling the heavy orbs around in his fingers. "Hell, maybe even two or three! I'll bet I'm plenty virile now, I can handle it."

"First of all, I'm not gay, I'm bi, I've been with girls before," Andy protested, then he shook his head in disbelief. "Second of all, do you even hear yourself? You just want to steal my body so you can use it to be a manwhore? That's so fucked up!"

"Youth is wasted on the young," Bernard tsked the boy sadly. "Trust me, after a few days in that body you'll come to regret not indulging in life's pleasures while you could."

"Oh I can't wait to fuck a woman with this thing- I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop fucking women with this thing! I tell you kids, it's a dream come true," Bernard grinned from ear to ear, not a trace of shame on his face, and rolled his broad shoulders to feel his muscles stretch. "I could take this pretty face and this big dick out into that party right now and any girl would be on her knees for me in an instant. The young women of the world should be thanking me for liberating this body."

Andy fought the urge to gag (how was this old guy so gross?) and crossed his arms in an attempt to look stern. "Yeah, well, I don't think those girls out there would be happy to find out that the guy they're grinding on is actually old enough to be their grandfather."

"Grandfather?" Bernard gasped. "I'm fifty three, I'm not that old you dunderhead!" Then a devious smile crossed his handsome face and he ran a finger over his jawline, appreciating the smooth, tight skin. "Besides, I believe you're the old one actually. I'm currently what, twenty six years old?"

"I'm twenty-three," Andy corrected him with a harumph. "Jackass."

"Just twenty-three?" Bernard was genuinely surprised by that, and he looked down at Andy's well-developed muscles with a new appreciation. At twenty three years old Bernard had been out of breath when he climbed the stairs, yet in the same amount of years Andy had sculpted himself into a Greek statue. "What are they putting in the food these days? You've got an incredible body for your age, I was right to steal it."

"See!" Andy exclaimed triumphantly. "How do you think you can steal my life when you don't even know how old I am? Do you even know where I live? What my major is? What my family is like?" Andy shook his head. "You'll never be able to pull this off."

"Pish posh," the professor waved his hands back and forth and turned his nose up, a distinctly old school gesture that looked out of place on Andy's form. "I know you've got a handsome face and a nice body, that's all that matters. As long as I've got all this-" he placed his hands on Andy's heavy pecs and heaved the meat up and down for emphasis. "Everything will work itself out."

"Oh yeah? Well all that didn't just happen overnight," Andy snapped, and he put his hands to the sagging manboobs his current body had and heaved them in a mocking parody of what Bernard had just done with his body. "Something tells me you aren't exactly familiar with the gym, do you even know what it takes to build up a body like that? I give it two months before you've wrecked my body!"

"Please, how hard can it be to pick heavy things up and put them down again? I have a PHD, I think I can figure it out," Bernard rolled his eyes, then teased his fingers up and down the ridges of his abs tauntingly. "Besides, you've already given me the base, all I have to do is maintain it. Rest assured that your six pack is safe with me..." he rolled his body to the side slightly so his butt was exposed, and he glared down at it. "Although I'll be happy to let this ridiculous rump of yours go."

"My 'rump?' Ridiculous?" Andy gasped, both hands flying to his mouth with shock. He didn't care how shallow it sounded but his bubble butt was one of his prized possessions- big, shapely, and with the perfect combination of firmness and bounce -so hearing the older man disrespect it like that was borderline blasphemy. "My ass is legendary on campus. Do you have any idea how many squats I had to hit to get a dump truck like that?"

A dump truck? Bernard shook his head. Kids today and their slang.

"No, I don't know how much time you wasted doing squats, and I don't intend to find out either," Bernard frowned at the globes of flesh jutting out of his lower half like they had done something to offend to him. "Honestly, you kids today and your obsession with having big butts should be studied. There's nothing manly about looking like the seams of your pants are going to burst!" Then he reached back and grabbed at one of his cheeks, squeezing it violently in his hands and giving the muscle a rough shake. "And why does it move like this? I'm sick of it bouncing around all the time! No, I think you'll look much better without this thing."

"Okay, that is IT," Andy bellowed, bending forwards and slamming his fists down on the mattress dramatically- to angry to care about how he tweaked his back in the process. "You can steal my face, take my life, make me look like an idiot- but when you come for my ass, it's personal." He pointed at the body snatcher and glared with every ounce of authority he had in him. "You need to get out of my body now, or else."

"Or else what?" Professor Smith sneered. He pushed himself off the bed and drew himself up to Andy's impressive 6'2'' (his new body had about six inches on his old body- and also was four inches taller), spreading his shoulders and puffing his chest out so he looked like a sturdy mountain of muscles. He leered down at Andy with a wolfish grin. "And what are you going to do about it?"

"I'll-" Andy paused, came up short for an answer, then turned to his boyfriend. "Trev, tell him what we're gonna do."

"Are you two done bickering?" Trevor asked, sounding mildly amused. He stepped up to stand side by side with his boyfriend, subtly twining their hands together to show support, and looked up into the professor's eyes. "Because if you are, I'd like to get to the part where you two switch back to your real bodies."

Professor Smith threw his head back and laughed. "Switch back? Why on Earth would I go back to being an old man when I could be this?" He flexed dramatically like a body builder, once again flaunting his strapping young body, and Trevor rolled his eyes.

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you," the twink said flatly, unimpressed by the older man's posturing despite how big Andy's body made him look. "You've pulled off a good trick but it won't last forever, there's a way to reverse any spell."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Professor Smith said, looking all too smug. "I translated that spell myself from an archaic hieroglyphic script- I'm the only one on the planet who knows how it works and I'm not keen to give up that secret any time soon."

"Interesting theory," Trevor nodded, glancing down and picking at his fingernails for a moment before looking back up with a knowing glint in his eye. "Well here's my take- you left your shit lying out back at your house and I'm pretty sure what you translated was just a variation of an older Sumerian ritual that I am familiar with. And that's how I know," he paused for dramatic effect, and Andy grinned in anticipation. "That you didn't translate the whole thing."

He slipped his backpack off of his shoulder and began rifling through it, but Professor Smith was more concerned with other matters.

"Wait, my house?" he interrupted, a bit taken aback by that detail. "How did you get into my house?"

"Threw a rock through your window," Andy said with a shit eating grin. "Also I carved a dick into the side of your car."

"You WHAT?" Bernard bellowed, so enraged that he reached forwards and shoved Andy back- but though the boy stumbled, he didn't stop smiling. "I'm going to call the cops!"

"And tell them what?" Andy chuckled, glad that he finally had the upper hand over the body snatcher. "All of your neighbors saw 'you' do it- right before you mooned them, by the way." He turned tail and patted at his nonexistent behind. "Bet they would have preferred to see my ass instead of yours."

"Anyways," Trevor interjected before Professor Smith could say anything else, and he held up a long red wax candle he'd produced from his bag. "If you had done your due diligence with your translations of this spell you'd be aware that it's anchored to the lifespan of this candle here, which means that if I just-" Trevor turned the candle sideways and pushed on both ends, snapping it in half effortlessly. "-then you'll both revert back to normal."

A pulse of energy ripped through the room as the spell unwove itself and the change back was instantaneous- the professor's borrowed body practically exploded with fat, the shocked thief letting out a cry as his massive arms sagged and his tight six pack was swallowed up by a bulbous gut. The jock butt which he had been so rude to deflated like a beach ball and the second it was gone Bernard suddenly realized what a fool he'd been to not appreciate the damn thing. He was filled with despair as he felt the delicious power he'd borrowed abandon him as his stolen muscles melted away leaving him back in the pale and unimpressive body he'd been neglecting for years.

To make things even worse, the absurd amount of alcohol he'd consumed as a massive twenty three year old had stayed with him and his fifty three year old stomach was already revolting.

Worst of all he was still butt naked, and no longer had anything to be proud of.

Trevor averted his eyes from this process- he had no interest in looking at Professor Smith's body now that his boyfriend wasn't stuck inside of it. Instead he looked at Andy as his body snapped back to its true form and returned to him the physique that he'd worked so hard on, which was a much more pleasant sight.

The boy was grinning from ear to ear as his facial features morphed, returning him to his handsome visage, and the wrinkles all across his body faded away as his skin returned to its healthy light brown shade. Hair began to sprout from the top of his head, and Andy breathed out a sigh of relief as he ran his fingers through the wooly strands.

Okay good, he thought to himself. I could not pull off bald.

The transformation to his body was equally dramatic, his rotund form retreating as his frame reclaimed its rightful height and muscle. Andy was glowing with excitement to be a twenty three year old hunk again, Trevor couldn't help but feel a tingle of arousal as he watched his boyfriend shimmy out of the oversized clothes he'd been using to cover Professor Smith's old body to expose his sexy real form instead.

"Oh thank fuck, I'm back to me again!" Andy cheered, hands roaming his body as he took stock of the changes. He needed to make sure that everything was returned to him just the way he'd left it. Pecs, abs, biceps, his beautiful ass- a sudden tug of gravity between his legs confirmed that his dick had reclaimed its former glory as well. A huge smile cracked his face as he stared down, twisting himself back and forth to admire his lovingly sculpted body. "Oh, I fucking missed this!"

"But- that's supposed to be mine!" Professor Smith whined, his own hands pressed in front of his privates to preserve some measure of dignity as he watched Andy caressing the body that had been his less than a minute ago. Already he missed the intoxicating feeling of strength that came with those muscles, and (as he shifted awkwardly on the balls of his feet) the confidence that came with having a big cock.

Trevor rolled his eyes and pulled some spare clothes from his backpack to toss to his boyfriend, who caught them effortlessly and began to dress himself.

"Don't be stupid, you know it's not," the smaller boy snapped at Professor Smith, snatching up the oversized clothes Andy had discarded and waving them at the older man like they were a weapon. "And don't even think about trying to mess with occult dealings again or else I'll use some of the tricks I've learned and turn you into an actual pig- since you seem so intent on acting like one."

The professor, feeling much less bold now that he was a middle aged man again, widened his eyes in fear. "You can do that?"

Andy, now dressed in some basketball shorts and a snug t-shirt, slung an arm across Trevor's shoulder and smiled down at his boyfriend affectionately. "Trev can do anything."

"Thank you Andy..." Trevor muttered, his cheeks flushing dark brown for a moment, before he cleared his throat and returned his attention to the would-be body snatcher in front of them. He jabbed a finger at Bernard, getting a small thrill at the way the bigger man flinched. "So here's what happens now: you will delete any records you have of this ritual and pretend like this never happened. Andy will not be going back to your class, but he will be getting an A for the semester. Do we have an understanding?"

"And if I refuse?" Professor Smith ventured, his bluster betrayed by the way his voice shook. Trevor and Andy exchanged a look.

"Then we release the videos we made while Andy was in your body of you doing some very inappropriate and possibly illegal things and you never work again," Trevor said flatly, and Andy gave a devious chuckle.

"Oh and it was some weird shit," the young man taunted. He crossed his arms menacingly- being switched out of his body always reminded him to appreciate the benefits that came with the presence of his own hulking form. "Only seemed fair since you were making an asshole out of yourself with my body that I did it with yours."

Trevor continued. "But if you say yes right now, we'll be nice and give you the clothes Andy walked out in so you don't get fired for being naked at a student's party. Doesn't that sound fair?"

Professor Smith looked down at his naked body let out a small noise from the back of his throat when he finally processed just how bad the situation was for him. Stumbling out without clothes on wasn't an option- if he were still in Andy's body it wouldn't be a problem (hell, people would probably thank him for the free show) but as an over-the-hill professor surrounded by a bunch of students they'd slap him in handcuffs before he could get a word out. He'd be lucky if all he lost was his job.

His eyes darted between the two boys like a rat cornered by two cats, and his eyes landed mournfully on the swell of Andy's pectoral muscles as they pressed through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"So I can't have just one night in his body?" Bernard pleaded, one last desperate time. "Just one, I promise! Or even just an hour! Please, I didn't get to fuck anybody! Hell, I can pay you!"

"Oh hey that's an idea," Andy turned to his boyfriend and grinned mischievously. "Should we make him give us money too?"

Trevor shook his head. "Just the compliance will be fine. And you accept the terms of our deal, right?"

"Alright, you two win!" Professor Smith threw his hands in the air, exposing his shriveled cock, and Andy and Trevor averted their eyes. "No more magic just... can I please have some clothes?"

🔀

The two boys, eager to get things over with, threw the clothes in Bernard's face (along with a promise from Trevor that he would be in touch and Bernard better hold up his end of the deal) and then made their exit, literally slamming the door on the whole ordeal behind them. The dip leaned against the wall of the hallway and caught their breath, staring out at the throngs of bodies and multicolored lights of the still-raging party, and then the two of them burst out laughing.

Andy's entire body was shaking and he clutched at his (once again tight) belly, nearly doubled over with laughter, and then he sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm himself down a bit. The small shoulder bounces that Trevor always did when he was laughing were starting to fade, and Andy smiled.

"God that guy was a douche," he said, jamming his thumb back towards the room, and Trevor nodded in agreement.

"Tell me about it," he snorted, then he glanced sidelong at Andy. "Was I that bad when I was in your body?"

"Nah," Andy sniffed dismissively, then he took advantage of his reclaimed height and leaned over to peer down at Trevor with a lopsided grin. "When you did it, it was hot."

The expression on Andy's face was so damn goofy that Trevor almost wanted to laugh and flick him in the forehead, but instead the sight just melted his heart. There was a carefree ease to Andy that no one else could match- that was his body and his alone, and the fact that he wanted to use it to be with Trevor (of all people) still felt like a miracle.

"It's good to have you back," the lovestruck boy whispered, not sure if he would even be audible above the din of the party, but from the way Andy's face softened he must have heard it.

"All thanks to you, Trev," Andy murmured back, rubbing at the back of his neck somewhat nervously. He was finding it hard to look into Trevor's chocolate eyes without feeling like a fool so instead he trained his eyes on the floor, grateful that he once again had a complexion that would hide his blush somewhat. "You were incredible in there, I'm so- I'm so lucky to have you. I would have been screwed if you weren't here so, thanks dude."

"Hey, you know I'd do anything for you," Trevor tucked a strand of his floppy hair behind his ear and placed his hand on Andy's shoulder, relishing the familiar feeling of his boyfriend's sturdy form under his fingers once again. "I'm just glad that you're you again. Nobody else can wear that body like you can."

Andy reached his hand up and grabbed onto Trevor's, squeezing it tight with all the love in his body, and the two boys took a moment to bask in the wave of relief that came with successfully surviving another snatch. Trevor studied Andy's face, that beautiful face that everyone wanted for themselves, and he almost leaned in for a kiss- but then he glanced sidelong at the throngs of people watching them and decided against it.

"Anyways, let's get out of here," Trevor sniffed at the air, his nose wrinkling at the smell of sweat, sugar, and weed that wafted through the cramped space. "This party sucks."

"Oh this party's ass," Andy agreed, glancing over at the crowd with a mysterious glint in his eye. "But we gotta do one thing before we go."

Eager to show off a bit now that he was young and strong again, Andy bent at his supple knees and swept Trevor's legs out from under him, catching the unsuspecting boy in midair and effortlessly hoisting him up into a bridal carry. His boyfriend was an easy, comfortable weight in his arms, and Andy grinned- this was why he went to the gym. Those muscles weren't just for show!

"Andy!" Trevor squeaked out, grabbing on to Andy's thick neck for stability. He wasn't worried that Andy was going to drop him, but he was worried about what people would think if they saw them like this. "Put me down, asshole!"

"No can do cinnamon stick," Andy teased, pulling Trevor close for a second so he could plant a kiss on his forehead. "Everybody at this party has spent all night watching 'me' run around trying to bang chicks- I think we'd better remind them all that I'm taken. And now that I've got these big old arms of mine back," he hefted up Trevor up and down a few times, like he was pumping iron at the gym, and the twink's stomach swooped. "I think I'm gonna use them to carry you past all of these people back to our apartment so we can watch that damn movie. Would you be down for that?"

Now, Trevor wasn't really one to show off- in fact, he tended to be on the shy side -but swaddled in the arms of his hunky boyfriend (reclining on top of giant biceps like they were pillows, because his life was a fairy tale) he couldn't find it in himself to feel any shame about nodding yes.

And besides, with the way their lives went, the two of them should try to enjoy Andy's body while they still had it.

[simplepotatofarmer]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Dream & Technoblade - Desert

mirage

The map was useless; never ending brown stretching out to the edges of the cream paper it was printed on. Dream would have thrown it away but there was some comfort in looking at it, trying to piece together the location he was currently and where he was supposed to be going. A security blanket that probably would've been more helpful if it had been an actual blanket.

He wiped his hand across his brow, careful not to get sweat or the tiny grains of sand that clung to him in his eyes.

"This is so stupid," he said and the desert swallowed his words in silence. For a brief moment, Dream shivered, cold.

Hours ago, he had removed his armor. It was heavy and dark and trapped heat and he would have more of a chance against an opponent without armor than he would against the beating sun. He trudged on.

And he trudged on, only stopping when the sun was high in the sky and there was a small mound of sandstone to press his back against. There was terracotta mixed in and Dream checked the map once more, looking for any landmark that could match up to whatever this had once been. Nothing. He should head back, he knew that, but somewhere out in this desert was an old village and in it was a library and, possibly, a book.

If it's still there, thought Dream, not wanting to speak out loud again.

Using his overshirt as paltry shade, Dream closed his eyes, the cold bones of the sandstone lulling him to sleep.

He woke when a shadow fell over him.

He stared up, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, wondering sluggishly if he had died or gone crazy from the heat. Either was possible and more plausible.

"You alive there, man?" asked Techno.

Blinking, Dream pushed himself upright, hands slipping on the sand covered stone. The tiny granules digging into his palms felt real. He pulled his shirt down and wiped his face with the hem.

"What the fuck?"

Techno crouched down, the brim of his wide, floppy hat almost hitting Dream. He wore no armor, no bright red cloak like usual, but a loose white shirt and baggy tan pants.

"Hullo to you, too, Dream."

"What-- What are you doing here?" His brain felt like it was slowly beginning to move but in the wrong direction, the question not the one he really wanted an answer to.

"I can't make sure a friend doesn't die of heatstroke?"

Techno shifted where he was crouching, hooves leaving marks in the sand. He glanced out across the desert, away from the rocky mound. Dream frowned. Confusion and relief and a little bit of fear all swirled around in his chest.

"What- Wait. How did-- How did you find me?" he asked, closer to the question he really wanted to ask but not quite. Maybe he was afraid of that question and the answer.

"Ah." Techno sat next to Dream, his back also against the sandstone. "I have my ways, I have my ways... Also it wasn't that hard when Tommy wouldn't shut up about seeing you head out this way."

"Heh."

It made sense. It was even funny and Dream grinned. Next to him, Techno was watching him with concern but chuckled when Dream let out his quiet huff of laughter.

"Yeah, he thinks you're up to something but apparently the only thing you're up to is gettin' lost and dyin' of dehydration," Techno said.

"I'm not dying," said Dream and rolled his eyes, ignoring how dry they felt.

"Oh, sure, sure. You just normally look like a corpse."

Dream tilted his head.

"Well, to be fair, after the prison..."

The laugh Techno gave was choking, surprised, and he shook his head. Strands of pink hair stuck out from his braid and he flicked one of his ears.

"Alright, you got me there, man."

"Yeah."

Dream leaned his head against the rock. The sun was lower in the sky now, waves of heat visible off the sand. There was silence but it didn't feel as ominous now.

"D'you find what you were lookin' for?"

With a sigh, Dream brushed some sand off his pants.

"No. You- You could help me."

"I dunno." Techno frowned, looking over at Dream. "I only brought enough water to get across this stretch of desert then back. Speakin' of, you look like you could use a drink."

"Right," said Dream, as he pulled out his canteen and took a sip, the first one he had had in hours. It made sense; from Techno's perspective this was a rescue mission and nothing more. Or it was Dream's subconscious telling him what he already knew. Both scenarios led to the same conclusion. He took a deep breath. "Are... Are you real?"

"Heh? I'm real." Techno held out his arm in front of Dream. "You wanna pinch me and make sure?"

"No." Once more there were two answers that led to the same outcome and either Dream could make the trek back alone or with company, real or imagined. "Alright. Let's go."

@sixteenth-day-event

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

Notes from Twelve Caesars: Images of Power, by Mary Beard, chapters 1-3:

Roman art and imagery have always been politically charged. Pagans, Christians, atheists, authoritarians, (small-r) republicans, and others all use it to claim historical precedent, represent their values, and find like-minded people.

This frequently leads to thematic conflicts and awkwardness. E.g. Andrew Jackson refused to be buried in a (supposed) Roman emperor's sarcophagus, because it reeked of monarchism. Horatio Greenough's statue of George Washington was modeled after the Roman Cincinnatus, but modern people don't catch the reference. They're more likely to ask, "Why is this old man so ripped?"

Part of what makes this difficult is that the vast majority of surviving Roman art comes from the imperial period, not the republic. There are relatively few Roman symbols with no autocratic or "kingly" connotations.

However, Roman art and history was never exclusively an upper-class hobby. Collecting Roman coins was popular and widely affordable from the Middle Ages onward. The history of the Roman empire was intricately linked to the rise of Christianity, so it was important to how most Europeans understood their religion and worldview. Even if you couldn't read, you would probably see Roman emperors in art, or hear stories of how early Christians interacted with the empire.

Image of Nero at Poitiers Cathedral, pointing toward the crucifixion of Saint Peter in another panel; he is dressed like a contemporary king at the time the window was made.

In A Rake's Progress, William Hogarth depicts all Roman emperors but Nero (red arrow) defaced, symbolizing the rake's descent into Nero-like depravity. Hogarth must have expected his audience in the 1730s to catch the reference. These days, in most countries, Roman history is considered more of a specialty field than basic education.

There are long traditions of both representing Romans in modern dress, and of depicting modern people like Romans. This usually wasn't a mistake on the artist's part, but a conscious choice. Putting Romans in modern dress helps convey their power or personality in visual language we already know - think Marcus Crassus in a businessman's suit. Meanwhile, putting modern people in classical dress and settings was intended to give a sense of gravitas, timelessness, and to legitimize power.

Left: George Sackville, Duke of Dorset, by George Knapton. Right: Julius Caesar by Titian, upon which Sackville's portrait was based.

So you can absolutely draw Mark Antony in a miniskirt. It's a time-honored tradition!

Framing and gesture are important. Sackville's portrait above is obviously supposed to make you think "conquering hero." One painting might tell you Claudius was destined to become emperor, making him look noble and chosen by god(s)...

(Unknown artist, workshop of Giulio Romano, The Omen of Claudius' Imperial Powers)

...And another artist might portray Claudius as a frightened old man, and the imperial court as ruthless and bloody:

(Lawrence Alma-Tadema, A Roman Emperor, 41 AD)

These paintings will give you two very different ideas of what a monarchy is like!

Roman portraits have also influenced European physiognomy and phrenology. Busts attributed to famous Romans were taken to represent the actual men's features, and thus their personalities. Ironically, many of these "case study" busts later turned out to be fake. Phrenology has now been discredited as racist and pseudoscientific.

Sketch of a bust of Vitellius by Giambattista della Porta, emphasizing his "uncouth" temperament by comparison to an owl. Phrenologists believed the shape of a head could predict personality.

And of course, fascists have appropriated Roman imagery for their own propaganda. I believe fascists appeal to "superficial history" like this as a way to claim their extreme, hateful policies are actually traditional, and therefore normal and legitimate.

Mussolini abolishing the Italian Chamber of Deputies in front of a statue of Julius Caesar, which he had relocated to Rome's city council chamber. "One dictator in front of another," as Mary Beard aptly put it.

It is sometimes difficult to separate Roman imagery from these authoritarian connotations. Even before fascism, European nobility often used it to symbolize their own power and legitimacy. But I think the more modern creators adapt Roman history and imagery, for a wide variety of purposes, the better we can keep it from getting entirely tainted by extremists. I love the folks here on Tumblr who make art, comics and memes of their favorite weird little Romans. History is for everyone.

After all, most Romans weren't emperors. Just ordinary people like us.

[room-surprise]

Dungeon Meshi Anime Review, Season 2, Episode 19 review

Izutsumi arrives! And Marcille has a nightmare.

This is an interesting episode but I know my spouse and I had desperately hoped that they would re-organize things somehow. Marcille's plot in this feels painfully tacked on and unrelated to Izutsumi's introduction, and the concept of the nightmare is so good, it could have easily been expanded to be an entire episode on its own. I wish they'd done that. They could have paired Izu's intro with the ice golem story to have one all-Izutsumi episode and then one all-Marcille episode... alas.

Those are changes I would have LIKED to see, but here's some changes I didn't like:

(MAJOR MANGA AND ANIME SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!!)

Trigger removed Laios' mother's only speaking line in the manga. It would have taken SO LITTLE to have someone read this single sentence, and removing it, in my opinion, has a negative impact on the story as a whole.

It SOUNDS like a generic thing when she asks Laios "When will you give us grandchildren?" But this is actually really important. Laios is afraid of being forced to make a family and participate in society. This is unusual because he's a man, most men in a historic time period of this don't really care about such things, but Laios is so afraid of it, it's a recurring nightmare!

This is also why he acted so weird seeing a loving father/baby scene in the magic paintings chapter. He hated seeing a father talk about how much they love their baby.

Laios is named after a story about murdering your children before they can hurt you. Like an Oedipus Complex supposedly means that a son wants to have sex with his mother, a Laios Complex means a man wants to kill his sons. Kui did not pick this name and then have Laios repeatedly be uncomfortable with children, marriage and fatherhood for no reason.

Obviously Trigger didn't make any of these connections and so they didn't think it was necessary for Laios' mom to speak this line out loud, but I vehemently disagree.

This is similar to my beef with them removing Yarn Floke's only dialog in the story and removing her from the scene with the Island Governor. That moment told us that Mr. and Mrs. Floke were equal partners, and now anime watchers assume she's just his wife who doesn't do anything. That sucks.

The addition of paintings of Marcille's father in the nightmare. Woof. I really don't care for this, if they wanted to do it i would have preferred it if they'd obscured the paintings somehow so it wasn't obvious that Marcille's father wasn't an elf.

I think this makes the later reveal of her half-elf status WAY less surprising.

Also, in the manga, the complete silence around her father created a strong subtext that Marcille's mother was her only parent that mattered. They could still accomplish this but I think it won't be as shocking.

People reading the manga probably thought "her dad was an elf and he died young and that traumatized her" (this is what Laios assumes I'm sure)

People watching the anime will think "her dad was a tall-man and his natural death of old age is what traumatized her" which is true, but they aren't supposed to actually know that yet...

Overall the episode was good aside from these issues. I liked that the nightmare sequence was in black and white, and the transition to color at the end was spectacular and very impactful... But part of me wishes they had done something else to differentiate the nightmare state from the normal animation. The black and white was good, but almost too subtle because the DM palette is already so desaturated.

[theguardianace]

Can I politely ask you to elaborate on the Aroace Nene fic you talked about some time ago? Or just simply how you see her in your brain after finding out she's aroace? If it's not much to ask, of course

OMG YES YES YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! absolutely. i will ramble about aroace literally anybody on the drop of a dime this is one of the best anons to get actually

nene's story is actually the one i have the least about, to be perfectly honest. i have a plot for both emu and tsukasa's stories, but haven't quite figured out one for nene. honestly, i think nene's the type of aroace to not really... care about it that much. she'd never cared about love or romance to begin with, so when she realized it was because she was aroace, it was mostly like "hm. cool. im gonna go play animal crossing now".

as for finding out... i think it would have happened in middle school, back when she was Online Gamer Nene TM full time. with how much she loves games and storytelling, it really only makes sense she'd want to engage with fandom content like fics. however, just... seeing the way people sexualize her favorite characters, or only write/draw shipping content... she didn't care for it. she didn't want to engage with that. not that there was anything wrong with it! people can do whatever they want with fictional game characters. she just. didnt care about it herself. which led to her feeling even more isolated even within her favorite hobbies. i think this would sort of lead her to playing a variety of games so she doesn't have to worry about getting absorbed in fandoms she doesn't care to be a part of. she still checks, every once in a while. for games that she really likes. i think its through this that she eventually stumbles across a popular aroace headcannon, goes "what", googles it, and is like "wow. thats me. sick". and then moves on

but like. even when she's moved on. it's still really nice to know, yknow? it explains why she felt like the odd one out not wanting to ship stuff, or even care to entertain it. there's people out there just like her. it makes her less anxious, a little more sure of herself.

she doesn't ever tell anyone. not even rui. (i mean, they hadn't talked in ages. how is she supposed to? "hi, we havent had a genuine conversation in years, how are you? by the way i discovered im aroace and you probably don't know what that means and honestly i dont really care about it myself. have a good day".) (and once they do start talking again, it just... never came up. she never felt the need to, and he never felt the need to ask.) until my epilouge chapter where they all end up coming out like WHAT WERE ALL AROACE THATS SO SILLY anyways

in casual life, i think nene would have been the type for adults to go "oooh, you have a crush on him, don't you? look at you, all red and shy just thinking about him" when shes simply Just Like That. it was really annoying. she knew she didn't like them like that and that was that. but shes too scared to say that so she just took it. definitely didn't help the "nene needs to learn how to make friends" department. honestly, her only relief from it was with rui- both her parents and the kamishiro parents recognized that the two really did care about each other, but it wasn't like that. also no way in hell they're ruining the one friendship their kids have.

later with emu, i don't think there was any point where people even considered a romance, at least not at first glance. it wasn't like people at school even knew about emu (minus when she snuck in, but why would this hyperactive pink thing be looking for that shy second year?). and people walking the streets didn't really assume they liked each other like that since they were two girls. nene's mom was a little curious if they were dating since emu comes over so often and is so physically affectionate, but she never really pressed. she was mostly just happy nene has friends over that aren't just rui. (also, emu's aroace too, so nothing in her demeanor even made nene consider it could have been romantic. shes just Emu.)

for tsukasa, it's a similar thing. by the time people have realized the two are friends, nene's confident in herself and her feelings enough to shut down the people who would even dare assume she likes a buffoon like that star in that way. there's those people that go "oh but you're mean to him and girls are mean to boys when they have a crush on them" but she's tough enough to go "ew" and move on. (she did complain about it a little to rui on a walk home once. if he ended up in her classroom the next day to "grab her for lunch" and weaponize his dangerous reputation to intimidate them when she wasn't looking, it was sheer coincidence.)

also, i think out of the four, nene falls most on the loveless scale. tsukasa, emu, and rui are all beings made of love despite the fact they don't fall in it. nene's a bit different. she cares about her friends, and she's super good at making them (despite what she thinks), but she doesn't really... love them. not in the ways people usually want to describe love. she would kill a man for them in a heartbeat, don't get me wrong. she just experiences those sorts of feelings differently. it's care, and determination, and hope, and happiness, but not... love. not completely.

anyways aroace gamer nene so real fic will happen once i figure out how to tie these ideas to a plot 👍

[uptondixon]

Upstead Foster Daughter

Did you ever wonder how Upstead would be as foster parents for a teenage girl? Like Hank and Erin, Hailey and Jay welcomed Olivia to their home when she was 16. Olivia holds a lot of grudges and is full of mischief, but she is also incredibly sweet and has a tremendous need to feel like she belongs. To her surprise, Hailey and Jay will give her exactly that. This is a post marriage Upstead where Jay never leaves!

[Chapter I] "If I was dying on my knees you would be the one to rescue me"

Jay is shot and help comes from an unexpected source.

Blood was no stranger to Jay Halstead. Nor is being in the aim of a gun. But actually being shot, bleeding out? This is something you never get used to. 

Jay had been lying on the cold concrete floor for about two minutes now, unaware that minutes had passed. Everything happened so fast. The bullet missed his bulletproof vest and hit his side, invading him with pain and knocking him to the ground.

Jay made an effort but failed to reach for his radio that he dropped when he fell. Being alone, bleeding out from a hole in your belly, is enough to send anyone into a panic. But not him, because Jay knew that was not how he would die, chasing a stupid drug dealer who shot him down an alley in the middle of the day. He wasn't even supposed to be there alone in the first place. 

His team would find him. Hailey would find him.

Half a minute later, Jay hears footsteps coming from the other side of the alley. His hands loosened the hold on his side where he was stanching the bleeding with a piece of his plaid shirt. They got to him, he could relax now. 

The footsteps were soft, they were probably from Hailey or Kim, even Hank coming-

“Jesus Christ! Sir, what happened?” Jay's head moved in the direction of the voice so fast that he felt pain shooting through his entire body. 

His vision was getting blurry, be he could make out a teenage girl who could not be older than fifteen. She was staring at him from 10 steps away and the strain his neck was doing to look at her was making him even more uncomfortable. He resumed his previous position with a loud groan, pressing the piece of fabric tighter against his side again. 

The action calls the girl's attention to the wound, the amount of blood making her gasp and kneel on the ground beside the man. Although she had never seen a gunshot wound before, she knew it was one. She noticed his vest, his gun, and his radio on the ground. He was a cop and he was bleeding out on the pavement right in front of her. She had to do something.

Her hands flew to the wound, joining his bigger ones in stopping the bleeding. She took out her coat, pressing it to the wound. 

“My belt” Jay said, reaching out to it. He had attempted to remove it earlier, but his hands were shaking excessively and he lacked the strength to do so. Just like he couldn't reach for his radio to call for help.

She got the message and took his belt. His badge and gunholder coming off in the process. The girl knew she had to do a tourniquet, so she wrapped the belt around his side, finding some difficulty in doing so, but still managed to succeed. More grunts of pain left Jay as she tightened the belt. 

Her hands and clothes were covered in blood, and her face had some splashes from when she tried to get her hair out of the way.

What to do now? She couldn't carry him, she couldn't leave him here alone to die either. 

“The radio, take my radio” Jay's voice was weaker now, he was using all his strength to not pass out. 

She looked back and stood up to retrieve the radio. She came back and kneeled beside him again, waiting for more instructions. It was crazy how he could still think rationally in these conditions. She felt so powerless because he was the one dying, but he was still managing to tell her what to do. She knew, however, that he was probably trained for moments like this.

“What's your name?” Jay said after a moment trying to catch his breath.

“Olivia” She answered, her voice shaking.

“Yeah, yeah, you-” he coughed. “You pull this switch and press this button” his blood-soaked hand showed her how to do it.

The girl glanced down at the name carved on his vest “Halstead, Intelligence” she read out loud. 

He turned his head to the side, feeling the cold on his cheek. His vision went completely black but he could still hear Olivia's voice in the background.

“Call for help, tell them the address” were Jay’s last words before he started to feel his consciousness fading away.

Jay could not make out what she was saying but the last thing he heard before passing out was Hank's voice through the radio “Who the hell are you?!”

You all recognize the lyrics from the title, right? Thank you for reading and let me know what you think! It's my first time attempting to write a story with multiple chapters so any form of encouragement is much appreciated ♡

[blugnettabutterflies]

This comes with spoilers for Criminal Case: The Conspiracy

(mainly after case 60. Also a TW for medical talk and a lot of injuries and scarring burns.)

So I finally decided to put together an Injury Chart for Jones for what happens in Blaze of Glory. Because I am so damn sure that he didn't just walk away with the repercussions that he got. It must have been way more and I am here to give it.

With that said, this is my personal interpretation of the situation, and screw canon!

Here, the full body picture

And now, some headcanons where I'll explain my position on this situation!

He didn't wake up that same night when he was admitted. There is a possible reason he could have been woken up and it was because of evacuation, but they didn't do it in the end. Maybe they kept him semiconscious to not risk a lot of brain damage since the injuries are bad. I supposed that he was put back to sleep for the next 3 or so days completely and maybe a bit more. He woke up after 5 days or a week. He still gets brain damaged (ill explain more down)

Speaking of injuries, the burns took almost 60-70% of his body, especially on the front side and the face. The face burns were from 2nd to 3rd, as well as the torso and up side of the legs and mainly the right arm. The left arm and downside on the legs were second degrees mostly. That's why he was in a lot of pain as said by Cathy.

Also, he had to undergo a lot of surgeries. Not only to amputate his eye but also a brain/skull surgery had to be gone because he hit his skull BADLY on some rocky furniture, since the blast sent him flying away. Other surgeries were made around the broken bones, essentially on ribs, arms, and legs. Luckily none of the vertebral bones were cracked, so it means that he can walk.

The surgeon also put him some skin graphs at the most injured parts and that procedure lasted for some months.

Another surgery that was done on him (as you can see in the picture) was a hair transplant.

Around the brain damage side of things, the blast caused him to have some alteration in his cognition. Not completely severe to the point that he to be dependent forever, but some sensation weakness, as well as mobility and mainly voluntary movement, which is what causes his prolonged paralysis mainly on his right side. He found it difficult to manipulate object with hsi right hand and to stand for a big amount of time, another reason of why he uses the cane. Additionally, he experienced speech and concentration difficulties.

What Gabriel informed Cathy was true. The surgeon and the staff who took his case had no idea if he was going to make it through the night. In fact, this was because, when they were operating on him, his vitals were fluctuaring a lot. He flat-lined once, and while he recovered quickly from that one, it was a sign that he was a delicate patient. Also, they were in the middle of the neohuman rampage, so there was even more of a risk. The staff sighed of relief when they saw Jones' brain activity actually responding to stimuli after a few days.

Around the topic of walking, due to the blast, he pretty much wasn't able to walk properly anymore. Not only because of the muscle weakness that this caused, but also because the waist bones had a hit too, and walking for big amounts of time causes some pain at first. He was in a way unable to move, on a wheelchair for the first 6 months. He is going to Physical and Occupational Therapy daily to go up some stairs. He was probably able to walk with a roller a few days after the 6 months, only in days when he felt confident. He started to use a cane after a year or so. He permanently uses it.

In fact, I am not sure if he actually made it to the memorial. He either woke up when the memorial was happening or he wasn't allowed to go due for the risk. If he went however, he was extremely supervised. As soon as it was over (or even before that), he was back at the hospital. He did go to Amir and Jasper's wedding 5 months later though, still in a wheelchair to not cause an accident.

Other injuries from the blast also include injuries on the eardrums, which caused audition alterations. He has now moderate to severe deafness on his right side and mild to moderate deafness on his left. He does use hearing aids (sometimes he forgets to take them out in his sleep).

Also, around his still functioning eye, while it's not damaged completely, he has problems with vision perception, making the walking part even more difficult. Actually, all of the tasks he does are difficult because of that at first.

Around the mental health side of things, during the rehabilitation process, his emotions were swinging around. He needed... A LOT OF HELP ON THAT. He was lucky that there was a therapist who decided to take his case and was able to receive all the punches and breakdowns.

There were a lot of nightmares. And I'm telling you. A lot. Of them. He would wake up in sweat and major pain. They became easier to handle with time.

The first time he saw himself in the mirror was... an experience to say the least. He saw himself and cried a lot, to the point that he had to be comforted for a few minutes. It took him a while to adjust. He knew it was his face, but he hated it a lot at first.

Before seeing his face, the visits were very secluded to best fiends and family members. Since his coworkers at the precint were his "family" he would allow their visits. After seeing his face, the visits were reducing by his own command. He was ashamed of himself for a bit.

Still, the team was eager to make him company. Despite him sometimes rejecting the visitations, when he accepted them, he found that it was a nice time. Their reassurance and news about the outside world would motivate him to recover so he could feel it himself.

Another thing that motivated him (or better off, someone) was Zoe. When he was able to move his hands and handle things for a while, he would read almost daily the letter he received back when he was hospitalized from his attempt. It gave him a boost, thinking that she would like for him to still try. It's a good pick me up. (If he couldn't he would ask someone to read it from her. Aside from other letters the team found in the meantime.)

But his big breakthrough was a bit later. He originally was going to have an eye prosthetic, and he was so sure of it... until he got a visitation from his sibling's family, where his nephew told him that he looked like a pirate with the eyepatch. He liked the idea of being something not as scary as he thought. And he, while the eye prosthetic was tempting, he denied it for the moment.

That gesture gave him a complete change of perspective to a more positive one, and the rehabilitation process was actually working even better. He was a pirate in that kid's eyes. So he may just commit to the bit.

After being discharged, he lived in various houses with Astrid to avoid being alone, until he could back on his feet. Sometimes he stayed at Gabriel's, other times at Ramirez's, Parker's, and occasionally at Player's house. During the first few months after his discharge however, he mainly stayed at Ramirez's house, where he and his family had a spacious room prepared for him with a great view.

Since he was on a medical leave for months, he took other activities that caught his eye (not pun intended) and his body would allow. He actually retook his reading hobby from it.

He actually took care of himself. He still attended the therapy sessions, he even went to a support group dedicated to survivors of deadly situations. He met a lot of people and he didn't feel lonely. And saw that there was more life than his job.

At first, he was so eager to come back to work and be useful and worth it. After rehabilitation and the support groups, he started to doubt, until he finally decided that he deserved a more calm life. And with that, he retired. He doesn't regret it. He keeps contact with the rest of the precinct. He still attends to their birthdays.

And he's happy. After all, limping sometimes, and even with some nightmares, he was overall, happy.

And there you have it! Screw canon my boy is disabled!

[graysparrowao3]

Heyyooo!

I'm popping in cause i just wanted to let you i really love your stuff and miss seeing you on my dash.(why tumble timeout??) I'm sorry someone felt the need to come at you with unkindness but i bet there's a lot more people who LOVE seeing you roll across their timeline (self included). I love your writing, its super sweet and i adore how you present the characters. I do hope that person didn't dampen your spirits too much, You're a gem!

Helloooo! 💛 This was such a kind thing that you took the time to say, thank you so much. It really, really lifted my spirits and to hear that you enjoy my presence and writing is so touching (and especially as I absolutely adore all your content and posts too!). You're absolute royalty. I'm so glad to actually be able to be back in your presence and respond to you now as well!

I don't know if you remember this post, but in celebration of being freed from Tumblr jail and in gratitude for your kind words, I finally wrote you something based on this prompt. It's just a series of three short scenes but I hope you like it! I'll put it below a cut.

Summary for bonus part 4 of the Rolan, Cal, and Lia sneaking in and out for dates series: Cal and Lia are sneaking around trying to hide their romance liaisons from Rolan, who, unbeknownst to his siblings, already knows about them both...

Words: 1,174

Cal gathered up the usual stack of envelopes, scrolls, and a copy of the latest Baldur’s Mouth that filled the postbox and began to sort through them as he sauntered into the kitchen where his family was seated.  

“For the owner of Ramazith’s Tower.” Cal handed an unusual, sealed paper over, then dropped the rest of the assorted junk onto the middle of the table.

Rolan tucked the envelope quickly away.

“Love letter?” Lia teased.

“Not that it would be your business if it was.” Rolan returned the light-hearted tone.

“Just joking,” Lia leaned casually on her shoulders, “but now I’m interested.”

“Never you mind.” Rolan waved her away, taking another bite to break his fast.

“Not that you have to tell us,” Cal settled back onto the table and flipped idly through the Gazette without reading it, “but it would be nice if you found someone.”

“I’m sure it would,” Rolan mumbled, “alas, your curiosity will remain unsatisfied. I promise it is not about my personal affairs.”

“If you say so,” Cal was already distracted by one of the illustrations, dropping crumbs onto the page as he chewed. “Weird thing the other day. Could’ve sworn I was being followed.”

“How’d you figure?” Lia’s brow creased with concern as she placed her drink down.

“Pass that here,” Rolan ignored the conversation and gestured for Cal to hand him the newspaper.

“Not sure exactly. Might’ve been imagining it.” Cal grimaced as he tried to recall, “was probably nothing.”

“Worth checking, though,” his sister insisted.

“I’m sure you’re making a mountain out of a molehill.” Rolan glanced briefly over the top of the page.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “you’re probably right.”

“Rolan,” Lia pulled down the top of the paper in front of him, “think it’s worth a check – to be sure.”

He opened his mouth, then scoffed, reluctantly agreeing,

“Fine, fine, I’ll check up on it today. I’ve got more than a few favours I can call in. I’ll keep us quite safe, fear not,” he folded the newspaper and tucked it under his arm.

“Thank you, Rolan.”

When they were done and the crumbs cleared and the plates cleaned, Rolan restrained his interest long enough to nonchalantly stroll to his office. Once inside, he quickly applied an Arcane Lock to the door and hurried to the desk, eagerly taking out the envelope and opening it with rushed hands. The letter unfolded, finally the favour he’d called in had paid off. He huffed as he read – they could’ve been a little more subtle about it, at least; he wasn't supposed to have been aware of them.

Archmage Rolan – as you wished, please find below the following information regarding the individual that has been seen in the company of your brother. Stand up member of society, as far as I can tell. Boring, honestly. And not that you asked my opinion, but they did seem rather happy in each other’s presence. It was sickening.

No, I didn’t ask, Rolan thought, but he couldn’t help but smile.

Rolan sat, legs and arms crossed. Eyelids falling gently shut before he commanded them to remain open. It would be morning soon. Lia should have been back long ago. His foot tapped restlessly against the floor. Then… a sound. He leant forward in the chair, ears willing it louder. Two sets of poorly concealed footsteps lazily approaching the door outside. He exhaled. At least she was alright. A click in the lock and the door creaked open. With a quick flick of his wrist, Rolan shrouded himself in Invisibility.

An uncharacteristic giggle followed by a soft gasp of excitement. His sister stepped backwards across the threshold,

“Shh,” Lia pressing her finger delicately against her partner’s lips, “lest my brothers hear.”

Rolan raised an eyebrow.

Lia fell back in, replacing her finger with her own lips. She pulled them in close, willing them to step into the tower with her body, hands in their hair. They obliged, their hands on her, searching the edges of her corset, exploring the material tight against her sides, sitting on her hips, teasing at her waist.

Oh, Gods, no. Absolutely not.

A sudden sound caused Lia to pull away. She turned to see a heavy tome that had slammed onto the ground nearby. She crept over and looked around, finding no obvious place where it could have fallen from or been dislodged.

“Tower is Gods damned cursed.” She muttered. She returned to her lover at the door, lacing her arms around their shoulders and pulling them in for a passionate goodbye. Rolan rolled his eyes and shuffled away, grateful to find his bed.

Rolan was enjoying a glass of his favourite red and warming himself by the fireplace after a long day. Long, but rewarding. Honestly, he couldn’t have imagined better, more fulfilling days. He heard the comforting noise of two tieflings moving into the room to join him before the night called to them all.

“I thought we might,” Rolan gestured lazily with his glass, “spend some time together tomorrow evening. Games, drinks, what have you.”

“Tomorrow?” Lia stopped before she made it to a chair, her question tenser than it ought to have been.

“Does it have to be tomorrow, Rolan?” Cal exchanged an uneasy look with her.

“I suppose not, though,” Rolan took a sip of his wine and smiled indulgently into the glass; he’d let them sweat just a little, “what’s the problem with tomorrow?”

“Just…” Cal stumbled, “something else might come up.”

“Might it,” Rolan raised an amused eyebrow.

“I just mean, there was something going on, maybe. I’m not sure. Better to be free for it than not.”

“Is that so,” he took another sip, enjoying himself immensely.

“All got our secrets,” Lia crossed her arms defiantly, “don’t ask you about yours.”

“I think you’ll find you do,” Rolan waved his goblet, “all the Gods damned time, actually.”

“Fine, have it your way.” Lia said, wishing she didn’t sound as disappointed as she did.

“No, no, by all means, do have your mysterious plans tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll figure it out sooner rather than later.”

“Don’t know about that,” Cal relaxed.

“You are many things, dear brother, but a master detective is not one.”

“Is that so?” Rolan’s smug smile loosened by the wine.

“Not saying you’re not good at other things,” Cal added, quickly.

“Just that you’re not always the most insightful. That can’t be news to you.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rolan swirled the claret liquid around the class, “I might have picked up a thing or two over the years.”

“Go on then,” Cal tempted him, “if we’re hiding something, what is it?”

“Let me guess,” Rolan feigned ignorance, “a friend I might disapprove of – someone from the guild, perhaps? Or perhaps an unwise game of chance in someone’s basement somewhere.”

Cal and Lia shared a cheeky look.

“Yeah,” they settled into the chairs beside him, “something like that.”

“You see,” he relaxed back, a smile of contentment on his face, “I’m sure I wouldn’t have a clue.”

[running-on-coffee-and-anxiety]

Noticed But Hoping For The Best Part 5

There was nothing wrong, Danny knew that! He was just getting more and more tired as the ghost attacks ramped up, but it wasn't like he could explain why he was so exhausted. What would he even say? 'I'm the one fighting all the ghosts and going home was stressful until Jazz managed to set the home security system to not target me'? No, absolutely not. Because of that, however, he was forced to endure people acting like he was sick or something!

Well, Jazz didn't at least. She was just doing her general check-ins after his fight, always fussing over him and yet they quicky figured out that any injuries he gains as Phantom? They show up as bruises of varying severity when in his human form! As the bruises faded, the wounds Phantom had slowly healed, though they of course looked how they were supposed to on his ghost form. It was actually really cool to know that he wouldn't end up severely scarred from any injuries he got defending Amity Park!

Still, his sister used any day after a fight as an excuse to fuss and make sure he was okay, even if it was something simple as making him a smoothie for breakfast- when did she start doing that, anyways? Did they really have enough non-sentient food in the fridge, or was Jazz keeping her own personal store of stuff-? Actually that would make sense, maybe he should start doing the same. Sometimes she went a bit overboard, though, like insisting she was the one to comb his hair or tie his shoes before they went out the door. Danny wasn't a toddler, there was no need to go that far!

Still, he good-naturedly rolled his eyes and grumbled, occasionally fighting it- she once tried to zip up his jacket for him! Just because his fingers were clumsy from not getting enough sleep doesn't mean he was unable to do it himself- but otherwise the teen let his older sister fuss, knowing it made her feel better.

Thankfully, Tucker wasn't acting any different, either! It would have been easy to see, since they were spending more time together while Sam was away, but there was no change- except for teasing about his appearance, or about his handwriting. Danny had noticed that about his handwriting as well, lines never seemed to come out straight when he started writing or tried to draw, but that was another thing explained away by exhaustion. The lack of sleep affecting small motor skills was something he'd heard his parents warn each other about when growing up, and after the portal opened Jazz had lectured them about it and forced them to go to bed several times so they wouldn't hurt themselves in the lab.

Sleep felt like a bit of a luxury at this point, like going a week without a ghost attack or a test somehow being cancelled. Sure, he wasn't going sleepless, Jazz would never allow that and the ghosts tended to attack during the day, but apparently six hours weren't enough. Why else would he be nodding off in classes? Or maybe he was just bored, Danny could easily find that to be the case.

And yet when he was Phantom? Oh, he felt fantastic! Completely full of energy, his hands seemed to obey his mind, everything was clear and sharp, it was like he'd downed a coffee just before starting his fights! However, that made everything so much more prominent when he switched back. His left side randomly twitching- probably from overuse, his muscles did tend to feel sore around those times- but at least his right side didn't seem to feel it. It was probably just because the shock entered from his left hand, it would make sense for things to still be healing, even if turning half-ghost fixed most of the damage.

But it really seemed like having to deal with the ghosts invading the town was effecting his life more and more. It was taking longer to heal from any injuries he got in his human form- Dash tripped him once, Danny faceplanted into his locker, got detention for finally yelling at him and the busted lip he got took over two weeks to heal, it wasn't a good day- his grades were starting to drop, Mister Lancer seemed to be increasingly irritated with him. It was so frustrating! He was trying his best!

At least everything seemed to be alright in science class, it was as enjoyable as always. Sure, he always had to ask his lab partner to handle the finer details, like anything involving pipettes, but it was still fun! Even if he didn't enjoy his parents flavor of scientific curiosity, that didn't change the fact science was one of his favorite subjects. So of course, it made sense his luck would work against him and ruin one of the few good school-related things he had.

it was just a normal class, and his hands were steady enough to accurately poor things and use pipettes! Danny felt like he was on top of the world, he hadn't had a good day like this in awhile! There was an idle smile on his face as he worked, his arm wasn't sore- there was no warning when his body decided to betray him. No heads up, none of the soreness he had been using as an indicator to avoid breaking things. His left arm jerked, a stinging sensation streaking up his arm, fingers reflexively unclenching-

The only thing he could think as the beaker shattered on the floor was that he was glad it was empty. The chattering in the room fell silent as everyone turned and just... Stared. It was only for a moment, but it was still unnerving, then Mister Lancer spoke. "Danny, clean up the glass and see me after class- and for the love of Shakespeare, don't handle any more of the glassware."

That... that hurt to hear, in a way Danny couldn't explain. Sure, it made sense- why let someone handle fragile things when there was a chance of it breaking?- but that limited his ability to participate. Was he just going to be forced to watch everyone and do nothing whenever they had lab? The frustration spiked, causing the teen to pause and take a breath as he felt tears prickling his eyes. It was an accident, it wasn't his fault! Still, he managed to take care of the glass without getting any cuts.

There was a feeling of quiet dread, though, when he stayed back after everyone else was dismissed. Was this the final straw or something? Or would it be yet another lecture? He'd been getting a lot of those recently, on top of all the detentions when Mister Lancer decided he'd had enough of Danny dozing in class. It was a complete shock, but also a weight off his shoulders when he heard the magic words, "Calm down, you're not in trouble." So no detentions, and no consequences, fantastic! But of course it couldn't end there. "We just need to talk about something."

Right, of course, his teacher wouldn't hold him back just to say he wasn't in trouble. Still, the moment of silence where it looked like the man was actually thinking about what to say? Terrifying. It was like when his parents gave him The Talk, and while he knew Mister Lancer wouldn't do that it didn't decrease the nerves. "I won't ask for any details, but clearly something has happened."

That was not good- sure, Danny didn't think it was being guessed that he was Phantom, but the fact his exhaustion made someone think that something bad had happened meant he'd probably need to come up with some sort of cover, maybe lie about a lingering flu-

"I have been harsh due to believing you were slacking off, but if this is a genuine problem, it's my job as an educator to make sure any special requirements you have are met." Wait- waitwaitwait, that was as good as an apology from the man! It was impossible not to look at him with wide eyes, but no, it was too good to be true, unfortunately.

"Now, the ban on you handling glassware will exist and stay in place-" That was one of the worst things Mister Lancer could have said. That would effectively ban him from participating in labs, removing the fun parts that made science his favorite class! It was just one accident, it wasn't his fault! It wasn't fair! "-however, you will be given paper assignments you can fill out instead of doing the lab. Partner with someone and watch the experiment, then fill out the sheet your given."

That felt like being kicked when he was down! He couldn't actually participate, but he'd be forced to watch others do things without being able to join in, and then he'd have to write about what he saw! Danny didn't want that, especially because writing causes his hand to cramp severely, no matter which hand he uses! Usually he would be upset, yeah, but... it felt borderline tragic. It had been his first truly good day in a long while, everything was going perfectly, why did something have to go wrong! And Mister Lancer was still talking.

"Every time you submit a written assignment, I would like you to stay back and help me read it; your handwriting is like another language to me. Understood?" It felt like there was something trapped in his throat, to the point it felt hard to breathe, doing his best not to cry as he nodded. On top of not being able to participate in lab, he'd always have to stay back after every end-of-day class because his teacher couldn't even read his handwriting anymore! Why was everything going wrong?!

"Good. You're dismissed." It took all of Danny's effort to choke out the words expected of him, "Thank you." It took all of his effort not to run as he stepped out of the classroom and started walking to his locker to get his bag. He felt a sick, squirming feeling in his stomach, mind twisting itself in knots after that interaction.

And last but not least, there was Dash. The bane of his school life, the closest thing his human half had to a mortal enemy other than Vlad. It seemed like he upped the mockery of his appearance- "Did you run into that lunch ghost on the way here, or do you always end up dumping food on yourself?" "Is it a hurricane out there or did you not bother to brush your hair?" "Jeez Fentoad, you're makin' it too easy if your trip yourself on your own laces!"

Sure, he wasn't the neatest-looking person around, but Danny didn't think it was that bad. Maybe it was because his mind had been looping around after the mini-meeting with Mister Lancer, but he never really focused on his food when eating, and that often led to spilling food. As for laces, it just felt like more effort than it was worth the retie his shoes every single time they came undone- they never seemed to stay in place anymore! But it was just so tiring, dealing with the taunts and jabs, the sore wrists and occasional busted lips from tripping that took forever to heal...

Eventually, Danny stopped jabbing back. Maybe it was because Sam wasn't there to keep encouraging him that that trouble was worth it, maybe it was his own exhaustion, but there were no more verbal responses to the taunts, nothing more than a huff when being shoulder-checked made him stumble. Dash seemed to be getting bored, though that didn't decrease how often he decided to be a pointless jerk all at once. The blonde was determined to drag him down it seemed, though. In the normal day-to-day, the taunting and shoving was decreased, but on the rare occasion Danny was having a good day? Everything went back to normal, and it sucked!

When he wasn't having a good day, though? Everyone was acting like he was sick- he wouldn't say diseased, though, since they didn't avoid him or anything, but the changes in how people looked at him and sometimes even interacted with him was. Conversations that suddenly dropped when he entered a classroom, people whispering to each other every time he passed by, barely concealed looks of pity. The weirdest part? Even Wes was giving him space! Wes! Explained with a handwave and a 'Obviously you can't be Phantom in your condition'. What did that even mean?!

Danny couldn't wait for Sam to get back, maybe she could help figure things out, everything felt like it had become twisted and everyone was acting like it was normal, he was going to go mad at this rate!

Previous Next

[alice-after-dark]

Late Night with the Radio Demon - The Summoning

Tagging @hiemaldesirae as requested :)

Did not expect to be posting about this again so soon, but here we are. This au owns my soul now and I'm not mad about it.

The whole demon summoning thing was actually a complete accident. Kind of. Technically he knew what was supposed to happen, he just didn't actually believe it would work.

Vincent hadn't gotten a proper look at the face of the man at the bar. His voice and hands told him the guy had to be old, but he'd kept his face hidden behind a scarf and the hood of his jacket. He'd been mumbling to himself when he'd handed over the small book, something about fulfilling his end of the bargain and "finally being free of that damned deer." Vincent had shrugged it all off as drunken nonsense. But the old man had insisted he take the book, so Vincent had accepted it and promptly forgotten about the entire encounter until days later when his show was threatened. He'd managed to keep his breakdown in check until he reached his tiny barren apartment. His ensuing tantrum had knocked over his coat rack, sending the book sailing across the floor, only to be noticed once Vincent had reduced himself to exhausted sobs.

Upon closer examination, it wasn't so much a book as it was a journal. Beat up and well-worn, it looked just as old as the individual who had pressed it into his hands that night. Opening it had sent a shiver over his skin, one that he chalked up to adrenaline. The interior was filled with mad ramblings and scribbles, sketches of antlers and eyes and deer skulls and something resembling a microphone...cane...thing? It takes some deciphering of the warped script for Vincent to finally realize what it's talking about...demon summoning.

The journal documents the summoning of a creature known only as the Radio Demon, describe as an eldritch being with extraordinary powers. The summoning that apparently started the journal took place back in 1902, but the stories date of the demon's existence go back as far as the medieval era. The old man got himself locked into a deal with the Radio Demon, though the details of said deal are lost in the madness of his writings. Eventually he stumbles across what appear to be...radio frequencies? Against his better judgement, he gets out his old radio.

He hasn't touched the thing in a while, but it's still in perfect working order. It's a prank, he tells himself, probably some joke channel some idiot got up and running. He'll play along, have a good laugh about it, and then...he should probably do something about the mess he made. He twists the dials to the frequencies outline in the journal, but all that greets him is static. Vincent is actually vaguely disappointed that there wasn't something more interesting on the other end of the broadcast. Just as he goes to turn it off though...

Something that sounds like distorted jazz starts playing, but not from the radio. It's coming from...everywhere. The lights begin to flicker wildly. The radio starts to glow with an eerie green light as the room around him grows darker, as though it's being consumed by the shadows itself. There's nothing but never ending darkness outside his window even though it was only mid-afternoon when he arrived home. Vincent staggers back away from the radio, tripping over his own feet and sending himself sprawling. This can't be real. There's no way this is real!

Then a hand emerges through the light coming from the radio, gripping the side of the device as another joins it, pulling and dragging until something wholly inhuman begins to slide free. It's jaw is too wide, eyes black with radio dials ticking away at the center, limbs jagged and warped, inky black antlers twisting up to the ceiling. The jazz is now screeching with static feedback and Vincent covers his ears in pain. He can't breathe. This can't be real!

And then, abruptly, it all stops and standing before him is a bizarre looking young man in a red suit.

"Greetings, my good man!"

---

(Later, when Vincent would discover who Alastor was in life, he'd ask how there could possibly be such old records of him if he only entered Hell in 1933. Apparently, time means nothing to Hell when it comes to demon summoning.)

[wolfawaycamp]

LauraMax & Rylan go on a double date.

🌦️ I realised, as I was writing this, that this is also sort of an answer to your lauraryan besties who hate each other+maxdylan besties ask. enjoy :)

To both Laura and Ryan's dismay, Dylan and Max got along like a house on fire.

Their boyfriends having other friends was not at all an issue— for Ryan at least, he knew Laura could have a little bit of a possessive streak. No, the issue was this: awkwardly sitting across from each other in a restaurant as Dylan and Max caught up. They weren't being forgotten— Dylan had his hand on his knee, squeezing it intermittently, and Max was definitely holding Laura's hand under the table— but it was just weird. That tension had never really gone away, not completely, even though they'd saved each other’s skins.

They just had nothing in common— nothing concrete, at least.

“Inigo rolled in mud again on a walk, so we had to put him in the bath— well, you know how bathing him goes down. Laur got completely soaked. I have pictures actually, wait,” Max said, and started scrolling through his phone.

Dylan responded, “You sure he wasn't a cat in a past life?”

Max found the pictures and faced his phone towards Dylan and was flicking through them. Ryan was reminded of when his grandparents showed Dylan his baby pictures. “Oh my god,” Dylan laughed, “Is he a waterbender?”

Max pointed his screen at Ryan so he could see and Ryan immediately had to try to hide his amusement; he could feel Laura's death glare on him. In the picture, Laura’s mascara was all over her face, and her hair was drenched and limp. Her face looked defeated, and the dog was a blur of movement. He was sure he was failing at hiding how funny it was, because Laura’s glare intensified.

He was saved by the arrival of the waitress, who asked for drinks, first turning to Dylan.

“Cherry soda?”

She nodded and turned to Ryan. “Uh, orange juice. Please.”

Laura blinked at him. The waitress wanted her order. “...Orange juice, too.”

Honestly, Ryan half-thought Laura was going to order hard liquor to get through this interaction.

Finally, Max’s order was: “Root beer!”

The waitress tapped her pencil against the notepad. “You guys ready to order food?”

“Yeah,” Laura answered for all of them. Ryan quickly decided on ordering the veggie burger. He'd been turned off red meat after that night.

Max ordered spaghetti. Laura ordered… “A veggie burger, thanks.”

It was Ryan's turn to blink at her. What was going on?

“Um. A veggie burger for me. Please.”

Dylan ordered lasagna, probably because his conversation with Max had a detour talking about Garfield at one point, then smiled at Ryan knowingly.

Ryan looked at Laura, and found she was looking at him, trying to figure him out.

They had something in common, he supposed.

[warriorcatsofficialfacts]

ps the reason i used the banana splits movie as an example is because you can really Tell what movie that one was originally meant to be (since. everyone knows what fnaf is and we all knew there was supposed to be a fnaf movie Years ago) but the concept of just buying an already made script for an entirely different movie and just making it something different is very standard in hollywood. i'm more into horror so most of my examples come from there, but off the top of my head american psycho two and like. the vast majority of the hellraiser movies. were all just random stand-alone projects that people bought and made into franchise films for the sake of liscencing rights and also franchise cash.

if the og warrior cats film does get Banana Splitted it's fairly safe to say it will either be reworked into a sequel to an already existing movie series (maybe another guardians of ga'hoole movie? they made one of those i'm pretty sure) OR it'll be made into a film version/parody of an already existing franchise which doesn't have any films yet but is still solidly well known (like how they took an old kids show and made it into a horror film)

ps ps watch the banana splits movie

[nguyenfinity]

"This’ll be a quick sketch” I said,”A fast design” I am a liar and a fraud to myself. Anyways here’s Fairy Godmother Wataru as promised @niicookie​

He deserves only the most convoluted and glittery of outfits tho

Bonus:

[invinciblerodent]

oh sometimes i'm overcome with the realization of just how sentimental a bitch i am

like i really am straight up just playing make-believe with these characters like they're digital barbies

okay so in Iona's inventory, i've had this necklace

since very early in act 1.

it was in Aradin's chest at the Grove, and it was the first thing "we" managed to get with the "I distract them with conversation/busking and you steal everything that isn't nailed down" act/trick I had thought up for her and Astarion. I thought it'd be kinda cute for him to, at the end of this test run, present it with a ~theatrical flourish~ once just out of earshot of its original owner, and for her to ~graciously allow~ him to drape it around her neck, as a hamfisted and silly act of mock-courtship they both know is false. (it was kind of a... "we both know what this is all about and where it's headed, but wouldn't it be fun to play make-believe and pretend it's something entirely different" type of thing.)

I thought it'd be cute, if a touch bittersweet for her to keep it, just slotted away in her little "sentimental items" pouch, like.... next to the dog toy, her old wedding band, and the other useless junk she couldn't bring herself to throw away or sell.

and then today, i found this as I was selling stuff in the Glittering Gala.

it's the same design. and i like to describe Iona's eyes as "amber" when I write about them (they're kind of a reddish/yellowish, pretty medium brown). and she looks much better in golds and reds than she does in blues and silvers.

so. um.

guess who got this bloody thing "sneaked" into her inventory at the long rest.

if you think i won't 1.) exit a trading screen abruptly, 2.) switch controlled characters, 4.) buy a silly and utterly useless junk item AS that character (thought about just picking her pocket but.... we have 35k gold. why would i.), and 4.) keep it in that character's inventory until it "seems like" the PC isn't "paying attention", and then 5.) drop it into their inventory "unnoticed", all for LITERALLY NO GOOD REASON other than just to act out a silly little gesture and support the little fanfic in my head, well.

you'd be very wrong.

((and i was grinning and giggling downright embarrassingly the whole time too))