#(I’m very clearly not normal about it anyway)

[eastofthemoon]

Muppet Holiday Baking Show

Time for my annual muppet fic for the holidays. Enjoy!

Title: Muppet Holiday Baking SHow Rating: G Series: The Muppets Summary: Inspired by popular baking shows, the muppets decide to do one of their own. It goes as well as you expect.

Archive of Our Own

--------------------------- “Okay,” Scooter called as he flipped the camera on and held it up. “We’re ready to go!”

“Alright,” Fozzie cheered as he waved to the camera. “Hiya, folks! And welcome to the very first Muppet Baking Show, which will be hosted by yours truly, Fozzie the Bear!.”

“And me, Rowlf the Dog,” Rowlf said before gesturing behind himself. “But before we go see what our contestants are baking, let’s meet our judges.”

“Drumroll, please, Animal!”

A drum suddenly rolled past them and the camera.

Fozzie sighed. “Hey, come on Animal, I’m supposed to be doing the jokes here.”

“Sorry, Foz, but you know he takes things literally,” Floyd called.

“Mmmm,” Animal called. “Literature tasty.”

“Anyway,” Rowlf said as he directed Scooter and the camera to their right. “Here are our judges, the Swedish Chef and Uncle Deadly.”

The Swedish Chef grinned and waved as Uncle Deadly gave a thoughtful nod.

“Thank you, it is a pleasure to be here,” Uncle Deadly said.

“You know, I can understand why the Swedish Chef volunteered to be a judge,” Rowlf said, “but I'm kinda surprised to see you one too, Deadly.”

Uncle Deadly shrugged. “Oh, it’s not that surprising. I’m no master, but I do make a killer stew...also no one else wanted the job and Kermit offered me fifty dollars in recompense.”

“You're getting paid?” Fozzie asked.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Within the baking tent, Fozzie and Rowlf walked over to the first contestant on their list with Scooter following close behind.

“Hey, Kermit,” Fozzie greeted as the frog looked up from his mixing bowl. “Whatcha making for us?”

Kermit looked up a bit startled. “Oh, you’re starting with me?” He cleared his throat. “Well, this is an old family recipe passed down through the generations. It’s a type of a banana cream pie.”

“Ooh,” Fozzie said curiously. “I do hope it’s a-peeling then!” He laughed at his own joke as Kermit groaned.

Rowlf seemed unfazed as he looked into Kermit’s bowl. “Anything else going in there besides banana?”

Kermit perked up. “Oh, a special family ingredient.”

“Is it oranges?” Fozzie asked hopefully. “I got a good orange joke I’ve been wanting to use, and all our musical numbers have to rhyme.”

“Uh, no,” Kermit replied. “Flies.”

Dead silence followed.

“Flies?” Fozzie said slowly.

“Yup,” said Kermit as he dipped a spoon into the batter. “It’s my great aunt Eda’s sweet fly pie. Want a taste?”

Fozzie gave a nervous chuckle. “Oh, uh, normally, I would love to, but I had a big lunch so I don’t-”

“Sure!” Rowlf exclaimed as he took the spoon, put it in his mouth and swallowing the batter without hesitation.

He licked his lips. “Pretty good, although it might need a bit more sugar.”

Kermit nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Great aunt Eda was always a sweetie, and I was worried about overdoing it.”

Fozzie couldn’t speak as Scooter zoomed the camera on him and his dropped jaw.

“How?” he asked Rowlf.

Rowlf shrugged. “What? I’m a dog. We don’t care where we get our protein.”

Fozzie raised a finger to speak, but seemed to realize he really didn't want to question this further.

-----------------------------------------

After the fly-tasting, Fozzie and Rowlf decided it was time to split up for a bit and thus Rowlf found himself at Piggy’s station.

“Hiya, Piggy how's it - woah! How are you done already?”

Piggy brushed her hair over her shoulder as she struck a pose for the camera. “Oh, when you became an expert baker like moi, it is a trifling thing to whip up the finest of delights in a jiffy!”

“Ah, sure,” Rowlf said as he looked over the very detailed and finely painted cookies that were clearly depicting Piggy’s own face. “What icing did you use?”

“Royal icing of course!” Piggy held up one of the cookies. “I only use the finest of ingredients! I’m certain once our dear judges taste these they’ll-”

“You ordered these from a bakery didn’t you?” Rowlf said flatly.

Piggy gasped in shock. “How dare you?!” She gripped the cookie as if it were a weapon, eyeing Rowlf as a potential target for confectionary wrath. “You accuse moi of trying to cheat-”

“Uh, Piggy,” Scooter spoke up, “you still have the takeout box at your station and it has the price tag on it.”

His camera zoomed in on the box that read ‘Liza’s bakery’ on it.

Piggy chewed her bottom lip and looked up at the both of them.

“Pay you both twenty bucks to keep your mouths shut.”

---------------------------------------------------------------

Fozzie could feel a migraine starting. He was starting to regret not taking his mom’s advice on keeping some ibuprofen on hand.

“Why,” he muttered, “why are you two here?”

Statler handed his wooden spoon to Waldorf. “Well, we wanted to cook and we figure either we risk getting burned by the stove at home-”

“Or we can come here and burn you,” Waldorf finished causing both old men to chuckle. "Dohohohoho!"

Fozzie gave a deep tired sigh. It was fine. He just had to get this over with.

“Okay, what are you two cooking up?” he asked slowly.

“Sourdough bread,” Statler replied.

Fozzie looked up hopefully. Maybe this could be a civil conversation?

“Oh? That sounds tasty.”

“It should,” Waldorf replied. “We’ve found the perfect ingredient to give it plenty of sourness.”

“Oh? What's that?”

“One of your jokes,” the old men said in unison. “Ohohohohohoh.”

Fozzie shook his head and left the table muttering under his breath. “Why do I even try...”

Scooter, however, stayed behind and focused the camera on the two of them. “Okay, seriously, what are you two making?”

“An apple pie,” stated Statler.

Waldorf froze. “I thought we were making a meat pie.”

Statler paused. “Oh...I was wondering why you were chopping those onions. So it wasn't for fake tears?”

Both men slowly looked into the now very questionable mixing bowl.

“No one tell the bear,” they said in unison.

----------------------------------------------

“Hey, Gonzo,” Rowlf called as he approached. “Don’t mean to criticize, but is this really the best time to be looking at your phone? You've only got so much time to bake.”

“No need to worry, Rowlf,” Gonzo said as he put down his phone. “I was merely double checking my recipe for the perfect cake.”

“Oh?” Rowlf asked now very curious. “What’s the perfect recipe?”

Gonzo reached under his station and brought out his ingredients. “A cup of sugar, 2 cups of flour.”

Rowlf nodded. “Yeah, okay.” It didn’t seem anything special so far, but he wasn’t an expect baker, maybe the proportions would-

“Half a cup of baking soda.”

“Say what?”

A loud thud was heard as Gonzo placed a giant jug on his station. “A gallon of vanilla extract.”

Rowlf covered his hand over his mouth as he mulled over what was in front of him.

“Where exactly did you get this recipe?” he asked.

“The most reliable place for all kinds of information,” Gonzo said. “Tumblr.”

“You, uh, really sure you should trust that?”

Gonzo blinked puzzled. “Why? Do you think people would lie on the internet?”

Rowlf raised and lowered his hand. Nope, he didn’t think he had enough time today to explain that answer.

----------------------------------------------

Fozzie had been a bit concerned when he heard that Bunsen and Beaker were also competing. However, he didn’t see anything explosive looking so far, so he carefully approached their station.

“Hey, you two ready to RISE to the occasion. Hahaha,” he greeted as his ears wiggled.

“Indeed we are,” Bunsen said as Beaker was taking a loaf of bread out of the oven. “We at Muppet Labs believe we have concocted the optimal variant of jalapeño bread.”

“Meep!” Beaker said as he removed his oven mitts.

“Jalapeño bread, huh?” Fozzied asked. “Did you need something to spice things up? Huh, huh?”

“Not quite,” Bunsen as he seemed unfazed by the pun. “I don’t care much for sweets and jalapeño is one of Beaker’s favorites.”

“Meep meep!” replied Beaker.

“Speaking of which Beaker,” Bunsen said as he cut into the bread for a small piece. “We need to see if the chemical balance has enhanced the pepper's natural spiciness as hypothesized. Would you do a taste test?”

“Meep, meep,” said Beaker as he popped the piece of bread into his mouth.

He chewed, but then became still. Then suddenly his face turned red and literal flames shot out of his ears.

“MEEP!” he cried out as he dashed to the fridge in the tent. He knocked over Rizzo as he opened the fridge and chugged down a full carton of milk. A low sizzle could be heard as the flames faded to smoke.

Beaker took a long deep sigh of relief.

“Ah,” Fozzie said as he approached. “I guess that bread was too hot to handle, huh?”

Beaker shook his head as he gave a thumbs up.

“Beakie really likes things spicy,” Bunsen explained with a grin.

From a short distance away, Scooter turned his camera around toward Uncle Deadly and the Swedish Chef who both looked very dismayed.

“I'm nut trying zeet,” said the Swedish Chef. “Nu vey.”

“I do concur,” Uncle Deadly stated. “Perhaps I should give one of my enemies a ring...”

---------------------------------------------

“Alright, judging time,” Scooter shouted as he aimed the camera at both Fozzie and Rowlf. “Think everyone is ready for this?”

“Well, I don’t want to sugarcoat it, but I think they’re on a roll!” Fozzie cheered.

“And it looks like Rizzo is up first,” Rowlf stated as he pointed.

Scooter moved the camera so the little rat was in the frame as he carried a giant covered plate over his head.

“All right judges,” he said with a grunt as he placed it in front of the Swedish Chef and Uncle Deadly. “Feast your eyes on this!” He put his hand on the lid. “My Uncle Remy’s famous triple chocolate fudge brownies!”

He lifted the lid.

The judges stared at the plate, then at each other and then again at the plate.

“Zee-a plete-a is impty,” the Swedish Chef said.

“Yes,” Uncle Deadly said as he pointed. “Like the kingdom of Ozymandias, nothing here remains, save chocolate brownie crumbs.”

Rizzo shrugged. “What? I had to taste test it, didn’t I?”

“I’m amazed there even are crumbs left,” Rowlf replied.

--------------------------------------

Uncle Deadly took a nibble on his fork and gave a thoughtful nod. “I will say, Pepe, while your cake is a bit messy it does have a nice coffee flavor, and the nuts elevate the texture.”

The king prawn chuckled proudly. “Hey, it’s only natural. Baking runs in the family, okay? And-”

“No, no, no,” yelled the Swedish Chef and he shook his head. “Der iceenen is too roonynyen und yoo deedn't pooten een enoofen soogar. Elsoo der caken is soo goomgoomee, yoo cooden be cooled keeng oov der peeraten -”

“Okay, okay,” Pepe cried with a growl. “Why don’t you just stab my heart while you’re at it!”

“Yeesh,” Fozzie muttered to Rowl. “Third time in a row, did you ever imagine that Uncle Deadly would be the nice judge? This feels like my last comedy routine with those hecklers.”

“I would,” Rowlf replied with a sigh. “You weren’t at the last pot luck.”

-------------------------------------------

Uncle Deadly barely looked at the cake before staring straight into Gonzo’s face. “I refuse to eat this.”

“Seem heeren,” declared the Swedish Chef. “I radeneer eet Kermeet's pie.”

“Oh, come on, guys,” Gonzo said as he gestured to his very flat looking cake. “I used all natural ingridents.”

“Yes, and I can tell you from personal experience that many poisons are natural,” Uncle Deadly said. “This cake looks so gummy it seems closer to rubber.”

“I doont dinkendink ve cannen cooten dees,” the Swedish Chef said as he poked at the cake.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gonzo said as he got out the knife, swinging it in the air above his cake. “Look you can just chop right through it - arrgh!”

The knife came down, and abruptly bounced back up. Gonzo rebounded with it, tearing through the tent and into the air. Scooter did his best to get the tiny dot that was now Gonzo caught on camera before he started to plummet in the distance. A loud thud was heard outside the tent.

“Oh, my gosh,” Fozzie said as everyone went to look out the tent “Do you think he’s okay?”

Suddenly, the melody of The Rainbow Connection started to play.

“Sorry, that's my phone,” Kermit said as he quickly answered. “Kermit the Frog here. You're sure? You’re where? Right, uh, I'll send Beauregard to pick you up.”

“Was that Gonzo?” Rizzo asked.

“Yeah, he says he’s okay,” Kermit shook his head. “He said he landed in the strategic banana reserve.”

“Why do we have that?” Miss Piggy asked.

Fozzie opened his mouth.

“Fozzie, if you say ‘because it’s a-peeling’ I will shove Kermit’s pie in your face.”

Fozzie shut his mouth.

Scooter swung his camera back to face into the tent where Uncle Deadly and the Swedish Chef were still examining Gonzo’s cake.

“I would suggest throwing it out,” Uncle Deadly said, “but I’m afraid it will bounce back for vengeance.”

-----------------------------------

“Alright, alright, everyone step back,” Bobo said as the fire fighters continued to douse the flames. “Everything’s under control.”

Scooter directed the camera back to the burning tent.

“At least the flames aren’t as high now,” he said before spinning the camera back to the muppets.

“I swear, if any of my hair got scorched, the tent won’t be the only thing on fire,” Miss Piggy muttered as she checked her compact mirror.

“In hindsight,” Uncle Deadly stated, “we should have predicted this would be the outcome when we introduced the technical challenge.”

“Yeah,” Fozzie said, “things got really heated up.”

Several groans were heard.

Scooter pointed the camera at Kermit. “So, is this the end of the contest?”

“Yeah, I don’t think we can use any of this,” said Kermit. “Stop filming, Scooter.”

Scooter turned the camera to himself.

“Happy Holidays!” he said as he cut the recording.

[sesamestreep]

sexy himbo jock interpretations of James Tiberius Kirk are silly and do a disservice to the character for a lot of reasons, not least of which is that it fundamentally ignores all the times in canon when Kirk is faced with a scientific discovery or oddity and you can see the effort it takes for him not to clap and skip with excitement. like in ‘the devil in the dark’ when Spock posits that they might be dealing with a silicon based life form and McCoy’s like “but that’s impossible!” and Kirk literally crosses the room to flirt talk excitedly with Spock about the prospect and how it could work! and what it would mean!

What I’m saying is, Kirk’s gotta be smart and a huge dork because how else could he pull a bad autistic bitch like Spock?

[vaxieth]

thinking about imogen and laudna, telepathy, and the modifying ordeal of being loved unconditionally again

[thewingedwolf]

luther: the golden child

diego: the mastermind

allison: the peace keeper

klaus: the clown / mascot

five: the rebel / truth teller

ben: the lost child

viktor: the scapegoat

is this something i think this is something

[sharkieboi]

just finished the Broken Earth trilogy and ngl I’m never gonna be the same

[rotzaprachim]

*breathes in and out through mouth* everyone is scared and grieving and still waiting for news of their families everyone is scared and grieving everyone is scared and grieving*

[angel-derangement]

I must not kill myself I must not kill myself I must not kill myself I must not kill myself I must not kill myself

[crownofbegonias]

is there any other way to further cement malcolm bright’s eldest daughter syndrome than to genderbend him? i think not

[goldensunset]

on tumblr you can type an entire vent post that’s clearly very personal to your experiences and isn’t supposed to be a universal proclamation and some account you have quite genuinely never seen before in your life will assume that by posting it you are making a submission to r/aita to be judged by the world and will inform you that they think you are in the wrong for the way you feel

[natasha-barton]

Best thing ever is when you think you fucked up on an exam but then it turns out you actually did really well . It’s a joy I can’t describe

[ohmygourd7]

Thank you for that link, this article broke my heart. I had a collection of quotes that spoke to my experiences in the tags, but this section was too large and just… needed to be highlighted. Leaving this here on my blog forever, where it belongs.

OOF 

(original text from article by devon price)

[kavehater]

I will never understand those dumbass k//veth//m shippers hating nilou cause she’s a pick me first of all stop redefining what words mean because being a pick me isn’t to be thrown around cause you hate someone/something etc it has a meaning which is to suck up to men while putting other girls down - i.e that pearl lady. Nilou is literally the opposite of a pick me.

In fact it’s telling that she’s only friendly to kaveh and alhaitham and the fact you take her existence to be a threat to your nonsensical ship in the first place implies your ship isn’t even secure in to begin with and that there is a reason to believe kavelou or hailou is canon or something cause if it wasn’t yall wouldn’t have hated her or saw her as a threat to begin with LMAO

[foxmulderautism]

every day i log into this site and ponder whether or not im going to write a long mildly over sharing post about the intricacies of grief and death

[writtenbymoonflower]

how about

and hear me out

room mate! marauders who are obsessed with their shy roomate

oh trust me, hunny, i am hearing you. hope this is okay! shy gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: nothing really, just fluff, reader is very flustered

1.1k words

Your eyes were blurry as you shuffled into the sunny kitchen. You weren’t used to waking up to the curtains open and breakfast on the stove. You’d lived with people before of course, but none as lively as this bunch. You weren’t complaining, though, you were quickly warming to them, even though you had probably spoken a total of 50 words to your new housemates in the three weeks you had lived with them. Most of these words likely consisting of sorry, excuse me, thank you. 

They had been talking though. Ever since the day you met they had been treating you like their best friend. Not even that. They were all best friends. (Though you considered that wasn’t all, on more than one occasion you had caught Sirius with his head in James’ lap, or Remus’ legs swung over one of the other boys. You had also observed a fair number of kisses between the three boys). But rather, they treated you like something precious, like a porcelain doll they were begging to get a hold of.

That thought made you immediately think of the nickname Sirius (or ‘Pads’ as the boys occasionally called him) had stuck you with. 

“Hey, dollface! You sleep well?” The coal-haired boy looked like he was itching to beckon you under his arm, but resisted. You were thankful, not knowing if you could survive that.

“It was good.” You hummed, barely legible to James over the sound of his bacon sizzling. You padded over to the breakfast table, sitting one chair away from Sirius and his huge bowl of cereal. No sooner had you sat down when a steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of you by a spindly hand. 

“Here you go, dovey.” Remus sat in the chair between you and Sirius. 

“Oi, Moons. You’re blocking my view.” You turned in your chair to look behind you at the ‘view’ he was referring to, brows scrunching in confusion when all you saw was the archway. You heard a light chuckle from Remus and a snicker from Sirius as you whipped back around. The possible meaning dawned on you, making you his your heated face in your mug.

“Don’t torture the poor thing.” James scolded, giving a (what you were sure he believed was comforting) squeeze to your shoulder before he sat on your other side.

“I never tortured anyone.” Remus corrected from behind his morning paper, slowly eating a cup of berry-yogurt. “Collective punishment is a war crime, Prongs” 

“Leavin’ me to the wolves huh, Moons?” Sirius sassed, sipping on his coffee that was mostly just cream and sugar. 

“Oh trust me, I’m sure we all know how much you’d love to be left to the wolf.” James smirked, clearly in on a joke that you had no idea about. He abandoned his teasing to turn to you, fixing a horribly kind look that made your tummy turn to mush. “There is some bacon and eggs on the stove for breakfast, but I’m sure Sirius would let you into his cereal.” 

“There’s also yogurt.” Remus looked pointedly to his near-empty cup. 

“Oh no, I’m okay. I could never take your food. I’m not hungry anyway.” You muttered into your mug. 

“You’ve gotta eat somethin’ babydoll. Can’t have you skipping meals.” Sirius had a playful, if not protective tilt to his tone. 

“I’ll find somethin’ don’t worry.” You scrubbed your bleary eyes with irritated cadence, still on the brink of sleep despite the warm caffeine swirling in your system. Thick fingers wrapped around your wrist to pull your offending hand away. 

“Gentle, sweetheart.” James scolded lightly. “Gonna hurt yourself like that.” He squeezed your hand before letting it go but it felt oddly like your face and your lungs were being squeezed as well. If this was the boys normal, you weren’t sure if you were going to survive. 

You mumbled a sorry looking at the mahogany table like it held the meaning of life, or the extra hour of sleep you desperately craved. 

“What’ve we told you? You say sorry too much, sweet thing. It’s like, your favorite word or something.” Sirius laughed, slurping down his cereal milk and licking his chops. You bit back another apology and rubbed your eyes again, though much more gentle this time. James cooed in sympathy. 

“You still sleepy?” He rubbed your back again, which made you both more heated and more drowsy. 

“Yeah.” You hummed, shamefaced as you played with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. You were thankful that you were still too shy to not wear long pants around them, because they would definitely be able to tell how tensed your legs were. Remus set his paper down.

“Do you have work today, love?” 

“No, ‘s my day off.” James grinned at that, but Sirius spoke up. 

“Happy coincidence! It’s ours too.” He grinned. “How about we all watch something? We can put something on in the lounge room and you can catch a bit of sleep on the settee?” He suggested. You shrunk at the thought of sleeping in front of them, but weren’t opposed to the idea.

“We’ll make sure to wake you up so you don’t sleep the day away.” James added, still rubbing your back. You were easily convinced. 

“Okay, that does sound nice.” Barely above a whisper. 

“We can all have a big lunch when you get up, too. Maybe we could go out?” Remus suggested as he led you gently to the living room. You tried to make your way to the armchair, but you were tugged to the couch. 

“That won’t be comfy, dollface. Here you go.” Sirius sat on the settee close to one arm, Remus by the other. Sirius pulled you between them while James sat on the floor and you whined in protest. 

“No, I’ll move. You sit here, James.”

Remus swore that was the loudest he had ever heard you speak. 

“No, I’m good right here. Thanks though, sweetness.” James reassured. He was sat in the middle, though rather close to Remus so the mousy boy could reach out with one hand and scratch James’ scalp, roving his long fingers through the thick curls. You were so distracted that you were startled when Sirius tugged on you again, maneuvering your head onto a pillow that laid on his lap. You tensed before relaxing into his warmth. You tucked your legs into yourself as Remus covered you with a blanket before going back to loving on James. 

“There you go, baby. That feel nice?” Sirius said, unfamiliarly soft as he stroked your hair, hand a welcome warmth on your scalp. 

Baby. Baby. Baby.

It would surprise you if you woke up from this nap. Your heart had nearly stopped on the spot.

[nanenna]

A bit of detective work

A continuation of this post, now separated so you don't have to scroll forever to get to the newest installment. Also: masterpost

---

After escorting the Fentons back to their home, Batman, Wonder Woman, and Constantine mutually agreed it was best to stick around Amity Park for a little while. Constantine wandered off to look around on the civilian side, while Batman of course kept his promise to excuse Danny from school. Wonder Woman, also of course, kept with him. Sadly even as a very prominent member of the Justice League, well known to be one of the founders, somehow in situations like this it always took twice as long to get anywhere with civilians if he didn’t have at least one other League member with him.

“Hello, how can I help you?” the secretary asked with a forced grin as the two heroes entered the school’s front office.

“Good morning,” Diana said cheerfully, thankfully taking point. “I’m not sure who we should speak to, we’re here to excuse a student.”

“Oh, you are?” The secretary looked unsure, glancing back and forth between the two heroes.

“Yes, he’s currently marked with an unexcused absence, we’re here to change it to an excused absence.”

“Right…” the secretary squinted up at them suspiciously. Or rather, up at Diana suspiciously. “Well, if you would just hold on one moment please.” The secretary picked up an old style land line and pressed a button. “Principal Ishiyama, there’s a Mr. Batman and a… Ms. Wonder Woman here, they wish to speak about a student’s absence.” The secretary made a few “I’m listening” sounds before hanging up. They turned their attention back to the League members. “Principal Ishiyama’s office is just down that hall.”

“Thank you!” Diana beamed at the secretary before walking confidently down the hallway, Batman at his side.

The inside of Principal Ishiyama’s office is rather cramped,clearly intended pubescent children and not adults who keep such active lifestyles. Diana graciously sits in one of the austere, hard chairs. Batman chooses to remain standing.

“Now, what’s this all about?” Ishiyama asked, eyeing Wonder Woman warily.

How odd, it was usually Batman that everyone eyed suspiciously.

“We’re here about Daniel Fenton’s absence,” Diana started. She paused long enough for the principal to pull up the young man’s information. “The investigation is ongoing so we can’t give out any details, but last night we rescued Danny from kidnappers. He has been returned to his parents, but for obvious reasons he will not be back in school today.”

“Ah, I see,” the principal said. She did not seem to see. “And you want his absence excused?”

“If the police had come to you saying he’d been kidnapped,” Batman stated clinically.

“Yes, right, of course.” The principal set about clicking a few things on her computer before returning her full attention to the heroes. “Was there anything else?”

It was almost refreshing how easy that had been. Normally Batman would have to lay out what he meant in excruciating detail and have whoever was with him repeat it before a civilian in half a position of power listened to him, outside of Gotham anyway. “Dr. Madeline Fenton was upset not to have been informed of Danny’s absence,” Batman stated.

Ishiyama flinched, “Oh dear. Thank you for warning me, I shall look into that before they arrive later.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“Dr. Madeline Fenton also stated that everyone in Amity Park knows about the Ghost King.”

“Ghost King?” The principal looked up in surprise, “What does he…? No wait, ongoing investigation.” She side eyed Diana warily, then sighed as she looked back towards Batman. “Last year the Ghost King got out of his sarcophagus, we still don’t know how, and pulled all of Amity Park into the Ghost Zone. Fortunately Phantom, along with the help of most of the town, managed to put him back in the sarcophagus.”

“Why didn’t you contact the Justice League for help?” Diana asked with a frown on her face.

“How were we supposed to do that from inside the Ghost Zone?” The principal asked with a raised brow. “By the time we were back in the real world everything was over and dealt with, aside from cleaning up all the damage his army of skeletons did.”

“And Phantom is?” Batman prompted.

“Out local hero, I suppose. At first he was a menace, but recently the good he does far outweighs the inevitable collateral damage.”

Batman leaned forward, looming over Ishiyama’s desk. “Are you aware the Justice League has programs specifically meant to give support to minors doing hero work?”

“I was not, but considering Phantom is a ghost we’re not sure exactly how old he is. Either way, you’re here now.”

“Yes, and we should speak with the mayor about the supervillain attack recovery programs the Justice League also has.”

Ishiyama smiled and nodded along, “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Once out of the school and walking towards city hall, Diana turned to Bruce. “Phantom is a minor?”

“He is described as appearing to be in his mid-teens, strangely no photos of him despite there being photos of other ghosts all over the residents’ social medias and newspaper articles.”

“That is odd,” Diana mused.

“This whole town is odd,” Constantine said as he sidled up to them. “Apparently getting sucked into, and I quote, the lime jello dimension by the ghost king is just another Tuesday here.”

“The principal called it the Ghost Zone,” Diana supplied.

“A silly thing to call the Infinite Realms, but not the silliest name it’s been given over the eons. What I don’t get is how Pariah Dark got bloody out for a day and not one single person noticed, that should’ve been a huge event everyone even remotely sensitive to æther should’ve felt.”

“You believe someone intentionally hid this event?” Batman asked.

“It’s the only thing that makes a lick of sense, but that would take either someone scarily powerful or a group of very powerful people. And that’s not even getting into the why.”

“Perhaps this cult wasn’t the first to attempt to summon him,” Batman mused darkly. “Someone chose to release him, and since Amity Park is already a ghost hotspot I can see why this is where they’d choose to attempt such a thing.”

Constantine nodded along, “I was thinking the same thing. But it gets worse, no one in the JLD has heard or sensed a single thing about this town before today. I’m thinking it’s less someone chose to cloak Pariah Dark specifically and more someone is cloaking the whole town and everything going on inside it.”

“Then how did whoever freed Pariah Dark know to come here for their attempt?” Diana asked, “How did this cult know enough to use one of the residents as a sacrifice?”

“Ain’t that just the million pound question?” Constantine asked airily. “Along with: how did they even get into the Infinite Realms to let the bloody tyrant out?” The group fell into silence, no one having an answer to that question. “So, what next?”

“We’re heading to the mayor’s office to make sure they’re aware of Justice League resources that are available to anyone who’s suffered from villain attacks,” Diana answered.

“Despite numerous attacks and complaints of collateral damage, not one request from Amity Park for villain attack relief,” Batman added.

“Now that is interesting,” Constantine said.

[aceforwhatevenisthis]

thinking about how i wrote my college essay about urban legends and defunctland