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maybe this is too woke but i really hate the trope of naked older women = scary or vomit inducing or gross or whatever. like you even see it used in horror on occasion like oooooo so scary theres a woman with saggy boobs and wrinkles. There is something to be said for unconsensual veiwing of nudity. sure. it’s uncomfortable and violating for someone to be nude in front of you that you don’t want to see. but rarely that’s seen as the issue and instead the real ‘horror’ or gross out joke is the very idea of a woman who does not have a body that is sexually desirable to men. The very idea of an older woman’s body is treated like it’s something that we should all know is gross, sick and wrong. It’s just something that really bothers me
Ok guys consider this: DP fic where Danny and Wes run away together
Make no mistake, they still absolutely HATE each other. Wes has been trying to expose Danny’s identity since the beginning, and that hasn’t changed a bit since the GiW appeared.
Now, though, it makes a little bit more sense to Danny.
Wes is at his window, panting and shaking, and he is bleeding. The GiW, he explains, had been harassing him since the beginning. An hour ago, they got the warrant needed to take him into custody, and they went after him immediately. To add to that, they got the papers to go after one other person as well. Danny.
So now, they’re on the world’s worst road trip to Florida or Alaska or some other, equally far away state because Wes has an uncle there who he knows has a deep enough grudge against the government that he won’t sell them out for anything.
They hate each other, and desperately wish they could ditch each other, but Danny’s the only one who can actually keep their rustbucket bike (originally Wes’ brother’s, gifted to him after it started breaking down) working without dropping at least 2 grand on repairs, and Wes is the only one with a driver’s license.
Danny’s honestly surprised that Wes didn’t just sell him out. Wes told him that, quite frankly, he probably would have, had the GiW not attacked him as viciously as they did. He still hated Danny, of course, but he couldn’t live with himself if he just…left someone to get tortured like that.
Danny snaps that he knew the GiW would do that since the beginning, and if Wes had just listened to him—
In truth, he’s surprisingly touched. He’s never gonna tell Wes that, but still.
Basically just roadtrip of hell where Danny and Wes slowly get closer and start to understand each other, while simultaneously Jazz and Sam are working together to politically destroy the GiW, Tucker is running digital interference as much as possible (Danny, please stop showing your full face in front of security cameras, are you trying to give him a seizure), and the parents Fenton are beginning to think that they might’ve, just maybe, made a slight mistake in their understanding of Phantom.
Sometimes Danny wishes his core wasn't so insistent about hearing everyone out, the needy whine rising in intensity as situations proved more suspect than originally thought. Not that it'd solve anything right now, but it'd be less a pain in the ass.
And he should still punch Wes, but... well...
Actually, he should definitely punch Wes for the broken window, but given the circumstances it was understandable. And how frightening that was, to be ready to maim and see Wes in the slightly grey drizzle, beat to shit worse than anything Dash had dared to do to Danny.
"The Guys In White." He'd started, voice already cracked from overuse (a haunting thought). The over-expensive dirtbike shifted underneath him.
The GIW had gotten a warrant for him so they could have a real interrogation for his ranting. Real interrogation, like a spit lip. Real like a black eye.
Real like a cracked voice.
He'd tried to sarcastically drawl about it, hands carefully not on the broken glass. Careful, despite the attempted casualness.
"And did they finally believe you?"
"Doesn't matter if they did Fenton, they've got the warrant to come knocking now. One Daniel James Fenton, due for interrogation"
He swears he didn't say shit to them, on the way to his garage. But right then, Danny feels the heart he doesn't have stop, and his core go quiet.
"Wes, why are you here."
Wes motions him down, and the shaking hand in the rain is so startling as to make Danny realize Wes barely has anything on. They must have only just released him.
There can be no cameras, no observation. No winning.
His lip is still bleeding as Danny ducks under the windowsill regardless and transforms, electing to pop up through the pavement.
"I fucking hate you man, but they'll kill you."
He wanted to laugh. Now Wes cares? Only after he's beat to shit by the government?
"They'll kill you, and I'm not too convinced anyone in your house would pass a contamination check either if you get caught. I think they'd do it too."
And that, that's the deal sealer. It's not about Danny, now, the drone in his ears getting louder. The GIW arguably already don't like the Fentons, this is a good excuse as any to get them off the map. And if Danny goes in, he fails. And if he fails, so does everyone else.
"Then what's your plan, Wes? What brilliant idea do you have? Looks to me like you've fucked everyone over, like everyone always told you you would. So are you helping or are you digging?"
It was the first time Wes ever flinched at something Danny said, satisfaction- sickly sweet as it was- oozing to the forefront of his emotional storm.
The rain got a little bit stronger, a little windier, as they stared at each other.
"I know- I fucking know man- that I don't have any right to- but we're screwed together already. I shouldn't be here. Get on my bike and- we need to go."
Danny was going to be witty, be funny. Deflect and defend. But in his backyard on the dirt alley, he could hear the wrathful knock of fate.
"This is an official ghostly investigation, open up!"
And they both needed to leave. Now.
Danny doesn't think that the phase through everything trick will work twice; it's an admission of guilt and power. But now their sad asses are sat in Wes' garage.
"No, seriously, what is your plan. Cool, my hide remains another day! What is the-"
"Shove it Fenton." Wes hisses, pulling out a skateboard from god knows where and parking his ass, all in the aid of parking his ass and sliding to the bike.
"Are- are you repairing the-"
"Better ideas?" He bit, already elbow deep into it. Danny could see the problem already, too, now that his life wasn't on the line.
"Oh move the hell over Wes, you need to- up, loser! Left! Yes, that thing. Take it off and clean it."
"Oh yeah I'll just clean it with this-"
He was gonna be so smart, so witty- not on Danny's watch, not right now.
"Do it!"
Wes gave a spiteful harrumph, but nonetheless obliged.
"At least one of us can work a fucking bike, I guess." He muttered.
"Fuck man, you let your bike look like-"
"It's Kyle's. It's his piece of shit bike he dumped on me when it wasn't good anymore and sometime after we were six feet under struggling middle class." Wes snapped back.
Danny's jaw clicked shut at that one, but his kindness could only extend so far.
"Plan, Wes."
"I've got this uncle, right. In Alaska. Last anyone talked to him was right before he was dropped off the map to avoid the government. Oddly enough, probably not tax evasion, but he'd rather die than sell blood and blood's plus one out."
Danny had to consider, carefully.
"So you've lost it then. Do you even know where in Alaska he is?"
"I've got coordinates. One day mail came in for me and Kyle, one for both of us. We've got different coordinates, not by much though. My dad didn't get anything, which was weird, and nobody understood it at the time but-"
"-you got to the bottom of it and it's in Alaska?" Danny finished wearily.
"Mine had print on the back, times new roman, encoded. Not encoded well, but still. That I look like the troublemaker who might need to disappear to."
"Your uncles a freak and this-"
"What's your plan then, run off to the ghostly wilds? You'll starve, idiot."
That was, unfortunately, a better argument ender than Danny wanted it to be. Better than Wes probably thought it was, even.
The Yeti's food fills, but does not sustain. Everyone found that out the hard way. Being unconscious in a tube is different from trying to be there for weeks at a time.
"... Alaska?"
"Straight trip, as few stops as possible. You're cool with hopping boarders, right? And robbing banks, right?"
Earsplitting whine. "Hey-!"
"Don't pop a gasket yet! Fuck, Fenton, you're the sole person in the world that doesn't need a gun to do it!"
Less earsplitting.
"I don't think you ever actually got what an Obsession is-"
"Awwww, is da poor bitch baby boy afwaid of hurting the widdle cameras?"
The ringing leaving his ears didn't stop him from physically flinging himself at Wes, only stopped by missing as his brain caught up to his body.
"You're a fucking jackass, you know that?"
"Yeah, well, I'm the only jackass in town with a motorcycle willing to take you."
A drawn out silence. The temptation to ask who said Danny needed Wes and not the other way around.
"You are going to stay in the garage, while I take every piece of clothing I can fit into a bag out my closet and pack. And uh, break into my dads safe." Wes muttered, sucking his breath in as he tripped over his professed crime plans.
His lip started bleeding again at the sharp movement.
"And if I don't? If I leave you here to be a traitor on your own?"
"Then die on your own time."
Wes stormed out, and Danny had only silence for company.
Fuck.
Fuckity fuck fuck fuck, fuckity fuck fuck fuck 🎵!
No, no amusing showtune asides. This one's lethal for realzies.
...
Fuck
Wes came back to Danny trying to clean the bike some more. Because what else was going to happen?
Wes, for worse or for lethal, was sticking his neck out to do this. And yeah, Danny had some contingencies for the GIW, but most of them assumed they were illegally acting. There was only so much Sam's lawyers could do to defend him once he was sub-human.
Best he could do right now was see if there was a functioning payphone to harass Vlad with and see if there were some government pins to be pulled, and wasn't that even worse than being stuck here with Wes.
"Ha. Ha. Fuck." Wes swore.
"Don't sound so enthused."
"I get it, I- get on the fucking bike and shut up."
"We could fly faster." Danny attempted.
"And get fucking tracked while you're in ghost form? At least if we're a couple miles out your human trail nosedives, ghost wasn't it like a hundred miles? They'll be on your ass-"
"Your house isn't that far from mine Wes. Not two m-"
"Get on the fucking bike Fenton."
He didn't argue.
What argument could there be, now?
The bank robbery argument would have to wait. The argument about his clothes couldn't exist to begin with. The questions about Sam, about Tucker, about Jazz were dead in their cradles.
He knew (hoped) it was a hallucination, but the wind sounded an awful lot like GIW sirens, and Wes' breathing through a raw throat couldn't drown it out as Danny hugged tighter on the back of the bike.
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It really says something that a lot of monogamous people consider polyamorous and aromantic to be "opposites" but every polyam person I know took one look at aromantics and said "they're just like me for real"
Poly folks x aro folks in the sense that "alloromantic heterosexual monogamous people view love and sex as an entirely different entity than me, and that makes life kinda strange"
you ever realize how able bodied people just are not expected to do things that cause them excruciating physical pain? like they’re just. not
if i shouldn’t use my cane because i can sometimes technically walk without it, it would just hurt like a motherfucker then abled people should no longer be allowed to use potholders to take things out of the oven because i mean
well they could technically pick up a hot pan with their bare hands. it would just hurt like a motherfucker
if you use potholders how will you ever build up the calluses necessary to pick up scalding hot metal without burning yourself so severely? it’s like you’re not even trying to get better
As a professional cook I was, and still am, able to pick most stuff up out of an oven without a pot holder. I might get blisters and maybe it will hurt, but usually it won’t
AMAZING! based on this one specific individual’s experiences i will now safely assume that it’s possible for anyone to overcome hand pain & leave potholders behind for good!!! as long as you want it bad enough, anything is possible!! make this story go viral so that all those self pitying losers who still use potholders know that there’s no excuse
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reading this deposition that just got dropped where someone sued musk and ohhhh my god it is this funniest thing ever . i can see why his lawyer tried to keep this confidential . they’re both maybe the biggest idiots . this is like ace attorney
genuinely first two pages he says that he thinks ben’s lawyer is the one who is actually suing him and admits he has no clue what the lawsuit is about .
I don't think Mark can ever top "INDEED, MR. JONES, INDEED" and "AND THAT IS HOW I KNOW YOU LIED TO ME" from the first Sandy Hook trial in Texas (not to be confused with Chris Mattei, the attorney in the Connecticut trial), but this part
MR. SPIRO: Do you give these lectures at all of your depositions?
MR. BANKSTON: I do, and you can watch them.
is ESPECIALLY hilarious to me having listened to multiple depositions Mark has had to take in the Sandy Hook case, where he has needed to lecture EVERY. SINGLE. ATTORNEY. at some point in the case about how they're violating Texas Rule XYZ, because they all, to a one, did something seriously ethically questionable during the deposition.
like, YOU CAN WATCH/LISTEN TO HIS DEPOS. HE DOES HAVE TO GIVE THOSE LECTURES EVERY TIME. IT'S NOT EVEN A JOKE.
It's always extremely telling to me when an incredibly rich person has the most godawful fucking lawyers.
It tells you that this person is incapable of bending their ego, need for endless flattery, and belief that they are above the rules for even a second in the most serious circumstances. It tells you that no matter how many people they hire to keep their business empires functioning in their stead, they are without a doubt a hindrance to that empire operating.
if you're sitting on a fanfic idea because you think it's "too weird" or "too niche" I need you to understand something: the internet is VAST and FULL of people with your exact brand of weird. that crackship that makes sense only to you? there are at least 50 people who will read it and go "oh my god FINALLY." but even if there were ZERO? you still deserve to write the thing that makes your brain light up.
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