It turns out I played myself, I checked the amount of pages these needed and it went over 10 and if I were to stop it at that point it would literally cut off a page or two so I’m splitting the finale in half which I guess is good since it leaves part three at a very interesting cliffhanger. What will Adrien say in our part four finale?? All i have to say is;
Professor Longbottom is the head of Gryffindor house and the Ravenclaws don’t understand why, because if Professor Potter killed Voldemort, shouldn’t he be head of house? So as Ravenclaws do, they pushed the subject even though it wasn’t their business (mostly because Gryffindors just shrug it off and move on). Ravenclaws asked headmistress McGonagall why, and she just responds with “Because Professor Longbottom is a more exemplary Gryffindor.” And the Ravenclaws are like “what? No?” So they take the matter to Professor Potter and ask him. He just laughs and says, “I fought because I had to, because I was chosen by Voldemort, and was magically linked to him, I had no way out. And Neville was chosen by the death eaters. He faced more enemies personally, and he could’ve ran and hid, but he was the face of the revolution here. Neville stood his ground while I was in hiding.”
And all the Ravenclaws become awestruck and ask for more information, and both professors just brush off the subject. And because the Ravenclaws are who they are, when history of magic has it’s lesson on the war at hogwarts, they pay more attention than anyone and soon have a deeper understanding and respect for Professor Longbottom.
Thank you to everyone who watched my streams for this piece, to everyone who encouraged me and gave me feedback and advice and support (especially @dracoskullart) while I embarked on this endeavor! This is my first time doing something like this, and I had a blast over the course of the past week and some XD There are still things I wish I could have improved, and there are some mistakes I won’t make next time, but for now I am proud of me < :D
I haven’t slept in 24 hours… *passes out*
(Also, I have no clue why the quality is so grainy!? =_=)
Why are we all mad at Hartman? I feel like I'm missing a lot of backstory here. I'm usually just reading fanfic and he obviously doesn't come up there much. What did I miss?
Honestly, you’re not the only one that’s missed the happenings with Butch. I wasn’t really aware until pretty recently the extent of how things are/were/seem to be.
I would say that it probably all started back when Danny Phantom was first on Nick. Butch had denounced basically any m/m pairing that people had started to ship together which caused the Phandom to split in half, one side taking Butch’s words to heart, the other completely going against him. This insinuated the Phandom Wars(explained a little further in this post). Luckily I was not a part of this whatsoever and didn’t find out about it until very recently.
Continuing from that, Butch has since tried to interact with the Phandom again, but people feel that it seems like he doesn’t really care about the show all that much. He’s been known in the past to tease phans with little snippits of DP or saying that “maybe it’ll come back, who knows” on multiple occasions. When in reality Butch does not own Danny Phantom anymore, he sold the rights to Nickelodeon(which to his credit he did state in one or more of his youtube videos later on).
I personally feel that everything really started spiraling out of control after the presidential election, though. After the election was over, it came to light that Butch was a Trump supporter, which put all of those already salty LGBTQ+ phans and supporters over the edge.
Then there’s this video that was released on the 20th, in which Butch states 107 facts about Danny Phantom. A lot of which most hardcore phans already knew, and a couple of which added even more fuel to the fire such as 16:59 where he discusses why Danny wears a shirt with his bathing suit(many people take this as him trying to debunk the trans!Danny headcanon that’s been floating around for a while), and 4:45 where he states that ghosts aren’t the spirit of the dead, but just monsters from another dimension. Which clearlycontradicts the actual show, but I digress.
And of course the most recent cause for debate is this video where Team Phantom was animated again with the original voice actors no less!! Which a lot of people got heated about and criticized a bit, myself included, admittedly. But you can find my standpoint on that here that I wish more people would take to heart.
So, overall I guess it just comes down to the fact that it seems that Butch did a lot of stuff that got on people’s nerves and eventually everyone had had enough of it.
Raffle Winner One-shot For @artsietango SFW SF!Paps x Reader smooch/ confession
Papyrus came in every day, like clockwork, and ordered a shot of whiskey and a bottle of barbecue sauce.
You’d been working at Muffet’s for several months now, and despite the fact that it was monster-run (and that the job had taken you a considerable amount of courage to accept with your arachnophobia), your presence as a human had helped draw a more diverse crowd. Muffet mixed the drinks with a deft, practiced speed that only someone with three sets of arms could possess, while you carried a platter of drinks from table to table, and numerous little spiders took pastries and burgers to customers from a network of webs in the top of the tavern.
And every day since you started, Papyrus would walk in and sit at the same seat in the same booth and order the same thing.
You slide the barbecue sauce to him as you pass his table and wink. Papyrus usually chuckles and calls you saucy, but this time, he doesn’t even acknowledge you. He’s got his hood pulled up, and he’s looking down at the table, his usual laid-back grin pulled into a grim line. The expression startles you enough that you falter in your steps and cause the tray to unbalance, a few drinks sliding along the edge of your platter. Hurriedly, you correct yourself before they spill and keep going, but you’re distracted as you distribute your orders.
What was wrong with him?
By the time you make it back around to his table, he’s already got two empty shot glasses in front of him, and three spiders are bringing a third glass down the web. "Hey, Rus. You didn’t even say hi to me,“ you state lightly, trying to rib him into a response.
His phalanges close around the shot glass, and he shrugs lightly. His posture’s slouched, with his elbows on the table. "hey. sorry,” he mutters, holding up the whiskey to stare unseeingly at it.
“You’re really pounding them back,” you observe, trying to tread lightly. Usually, your friend is full of jokes and flirtatious remarks. You’ve never seen him in a mood this sullen.
He hums, though the sound is nearly lost in the music playing from the jukebox. "jus’ needed somethin’ to whiskey me away for a bit,“ he murmurs, before taking the shot. He chases it with a swig of barbecue sauce, straight from the bottle. You’ve never understood the appeal, and it doesn’t seem to be a monster thing. But it’s definitely a Rus thing.
“Wanna talk about it?”
He finally turns his head to look at you, his orange eyelights shifting along your body, up to your face. When his gaze locks with yours, you see resignation flash through his expression, before it hardens. "actually, yeah, i–“
"Hey! You! Can I get my drinks here or what?”
You turn to face a group of humans sitting at the booth across from Papyrus’s. They look like a rowdy crew to you, but you know you have to keep your smile on your face when you address them if you want to keep them placated. "I’ll be with you in just a moment,“ you insist in your Professional Voice, which only makes another one of the men sigh.
"We’ve been waiting forever, but those creepy spiders aren’t coming!”
Ugh. You turn toward Papyrus, but he’s already shaking his head and taking another gulp of his barbecue sauce. "work’s callin’ you,“ he states the obvious.
He’s right. If it wasn’t a Friday night, you’d have a better chance of being able to sit and talk to him. "I’ll be right back,” you promise with a sigh, before turning and going to collect the human group’s order from the bar.
When you reach the humans, you place your platter on the edge of their table to balance it. "Okay, so who ordered what?“
One of the men grins. "Why don'tcha guess?”
You really don’t have time for this. "I really don’t know. Did you have the bourbon and coke?“
The group laughs; apparently, you got it wrong.
One of the man’s buddies leans in. "What kind of drink do you like, babe?” His eyes flick up and down your body. "Sex on the beach?“
Ugh. Keep your smile on your face; you’re representing the entire establishment when you serve someone. Muffet taught you that–and if the customers decided to leave, your pay would end up docked. The spider monster happened to be fiercely competitive, likely because of the bakery that had opened up across the street. Apparently, Muffet and Grillby had some sort of bad history Underground.
You laugh without any feeling behind it and shake your head. "So you must be the one that ordered the Screwdriver,” you state tightly, moving the drink in front of him. The others laugh, and you take a moment to cut your gaze toward Papyrus’s booth. He’s staring at you directly, another empty shot glass in front of him, his expression blank and unreadable. It’s difficult to even see his eyelights within his sockets at this point.
This is taking too long.
“And you must have the Magic Night,” you guess randomly, sliding one of the cocktails with magic liquor in front of another human. It crackles and fizzles, swirling with purples and reds.
“So what’re you doing after work? I can show you a real magic night,” the human states with a smirk and a brow wag, while his buddies laugh and shout exaggerated ’Oooohhh!’s
Your smile tightens. "I doubt that,“ you shoot back before you can stop yourself, which wipes the smirk right off his face and causes the others to shove him with more exaggerated shouts. They’re obviously already drunk.
"Ouch. Well, I could at least buy you one,” the man offers, holding up his magic cocktail for emphasis.
“I’m sorry, but I–” you glance back toward Papyrus… only to spot him walking out of the bar. Your heart sinks, and you start unloading the rest of the drinks randomly onto the table. "I have to go.“
You rush toward the front doors, calling out to the bouncer (a hamster monster in a leather, studded jacket), "I’m taking my break!”
You burst through the doors and spot Papyrus leaning against the building, a lit dog treat between his teeth. Purple smoke curls around his face, and your steps begin to slow as you approach. "Rus, I thought you wanted to talk.“ Your voice is slightly shaky.
"ya seemed busy tonight,” he replies with a shrug, holding the dog treat between his index and middle phalanges. “’sides, it’s nothin’ really.”
Your chest clenches; you hate seeing him like this, so unlike the grinning pun-master you’ve come to befriend… and have a huge crush on. Tentatively, you reach out and place your hand on his arm, gripping the thick fabric of his jacket. His eyelights shift down to your fingers, staring at them, and you begin to feel self-conscious. Usually, he’s all about physical contact and casual touches.
“It doesn’t look like nothing to me, Rus.”
He flicks ashes on the sidewalk. Standing outside, this close, you could smell just how heavily the alcohol is clinging to him. It’s obvious now that he had been drinking before he even came to Muffet’s. “jus’ somethin’ m’lord said to me today that’s been on my mind.”
You relax slightly. You’re getting somewhere now. “What did Sans say?”
Papyrus shrugs the opposite shoulder. “it’s busy in there. you should be gettin’ back.”
“No,” you blurt, hard enough that his gaze immediately flies to your face. You know that your expression has hardened, your grip on his jacket tightening with your resolve. “They can wait. I don’t care.”
There’s an instant where his gaze searches yours for something, but you’re not sure what he’s hoping to find. Then, he rather abruptly snags your waist with his arm and twists around the corner of the building, reversing your positions so that your back’s against the brick and he’s got one arm above your head, supporting his weight as he looms over you. The alley is dark enough that you can see his orange eyelights clearly glowing in their dark sockets, and you can smell a mixture of alcohol and smoky barbecue permeating from his breath.
Instantly, your breath catches in your throat. His arm is still around your waist, trapped between your back and the wall, and now both of your hands are fisted in the front of his jacket.
“but you care about me?”
The query catches you by surprise enough that you forgot the last sentence that you had said, instead wondering if he’d somehow picked up on your crush. Your face flushes hot, but you hold his gaze, taking in the sight of his sardonic smirk. It wasn’t his usual flirtatious one–no, this one looked off, almost cruel. Was he mocking your feelings?
Or mocking the possibility?
“Of course I do, Rus,” you evenly reply, lifting your chin ever-so-slightly. A challenge. “If something’s bothering you, then it’s bothering me, too.”
That seems to catch him off-guard; the smirk fades around the edges, the sides of his teeth twitching. “heh, you sure ya wanna know?”
“Papyrus.” Your hand moves up to cup his cheekbone as you say his full name, and his eyelights seem to glow even brighter. His face tilts into your palm. “Just talk to me. Please.”
“ok.” He sucks in a breath. His fingers have wiggled beneath the hem of your shirt to trace idle patterns across your skin. It’s not the first time he’s done this during your flirtatious moments, but it feels so much more intimate in this moment. “humans and monsters really don’t mix in the long run, ya’know?” You blink, sucking in a breath to refute him, but Papyrus shakes your hand off his cheek and continues. “’specially skeleton monsters. we’re a buncha bones, like a zombie or some kinda halloween decoration. so why would a human want to be with a spooky skeleton when they could have their pick of any normal human out there?” He shrugs, his fingers pressing into your skin, feeling the spinous processes of your spine. “it jus’ sucks.”
His gaze focuses on yours, and he leans in closer, his face only a few inches from yours.
“‘specially since there’s a human i’m really attached to. i could probably get ‘em to jump my bones if i tried hard enough, sure, but… they’re not that kinda person. they deserve better than that.”
His smirk has completely faded, and you feel your heart bottom-out into your stomach. You’re looking at him with wide eyes, slowly processing the implications. Your hand’s even still hovering near his face. He starts to shake his head slightly and pull back, but you grip onto the front of his jacket again and stop him from moving away.
He freezes, his hand at your back stilling. You’ve never been the one to make the first move, but dammit, you can’t let this opportunity go to waste. You tug sharply on the front of his jacket and lean away from the wall at the same time, pressing your lips to his teeth. He’s completely caught off-guard and stumbles back a step (okay, maybe you put a little too much momentum into the kiss when you pushed away from the wall–whoops), but his arm immediately tightens around your waist, pulling you close against his chest. You try to put all of your reassurances, all of your feelings for him, into that kiss.
And then you pull away, your face burning and your lips numb from the tingle of his teeth. He smirks suddenly, and it’s finally a smirk you recognize on his features–teasing and confident. “hey, ya’know what they say ‘bout assumin’, dont’cha?”
Your heart drops. You begin to backpedal. “Shit, shit, sorry, I–”
Papyrus starts to chuckle, backing you against the wall again. His forehead touches yours. “darlin’, you’re adorable when you’re flustered, ya know that? ‘course i was talkin’ about you.”
You groan. Your heart’s hammering in your chest. “Ha, ha. Why don’t you stop talking and put your money where your mouth is.”
“ah, so you’re jus’ tryin’ to get tips from your best customer. i see what that kiss was about now.”
Your arm winds around his neck, and you kiss him straight on the smirk. He holds onto you tighter, forcing your back to arch away from the wall, pulling your body flush with his. The sweater he always wears is too thick for you to feel his bones, but your fingers play with the ridges of his neck, and you feel his teeth part your lips. Something slips into your mouth, warm and crackling with electric magic, and you realize it’s his tongue. It’s not the first time you’ve seen it, but you never knew it would feel that amazing. Your body feels hot and tingly, and your heart is pounding so forcefully against your sternum that you’re certain he can feel it, too.
You’re drunk off his kiss–or maybe just the lingering taste of whiskey in his mouth. You suddenly remember just how drunk he is and pull back. His mouth immediately moves to your neck, his orange tongue sliding down your skin, sending delightful tingles straight to your chest. Your fingernails involuntarily scrape his vertebrae, and he groans.
“Rus. Rus, wait. Were you drinking because Sans said something about me not wanting a monster?”
He pauses, his tongue receding so that only his teeth rested against the juncture of your shoulder and neck. “eh–somethin’ like that.” He shrugged, but didn’t move away from you. “not like it isn’t the truth, i jus’…” He trails off, obviously trying to censor himself despite his filter being partially down from the booze.
“It’s not true. What, you think I just want a quickie in the alley?”
“heh, ya mean this isn’t you just throwin’ me a bone?” He lifts his head enough to smirk again.
“Nope. I like you, Rus. I’d like to give the whole dating thing a try, if that’s something you’d want.”
Good lord, you’ve never been this direct before–but after his admissions, you feel like it’s necessary to spell it out.
“ok. i’ll be your bonefriend,” he agrees, his smirk turning shit-eating. You shake your head, laughing. It always comes so easy when you’re around him.
“Great. Now that this is settled, wanna come back inside? My break’s been over for a while now.”
“sure, i could go for another drink or two.” He finally steps away, letting you step out of the alley on wobbly legs. Just like that, everything between you both had changed. It felt different, putting a label on the mutual feelings you shared, as if everyone could see the charge between both of you now.
Your face is still blood-red when you re-enter Muffet’s, and you feel the eyes of the booth-ful of humans land on you again. Papyrus instantly slips his arm around your shoulders, narrowing his gaze on them. You remember the way he had looked through you while they flirted with you, the way he had obviously been thinking about what his brother said earlier, that you would end up with another human.
And you turn and rock up on the balls of your feet to press a kiss to his cheekbone. It actually lights up a soft orange, his eyesockets widening at the brazen display of affection.
“I’m all yours,” you reassure him, before you step out of his possessive hold so that you can continue your shift.
He chuckles, his usual lazy smirk more tender than usual.