#and Danny is like. I think they’re doing good! time to clock out and not wonder why I keep getting info on random citizens I have no way of

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

(Do as you will with this, like switching who gets what etc etc. I don’t think this Quite answers the question, but maybe some of the set up? For it? Idk it’s almost 2 am I should be Asleep lol.)

They think she’s harmless.

Phantom knows she is not.

And, okay, so it was perhaps a bit underhanded to trick the boy, but she’s under the firm understanding that not only did he want to be tricked, he was meant to be tricked. After all, no one sane wanted the crown.

Lady Gotham was not exactly sane. And she wanted the crown. Just like everyone in her city wants. It wants and it wants and it wants.

It’s not like Phantom is just letting her galavant about either. The way Lady Gotham sees it, he had something of a plan about this from the beginning. He did not protest as she declared that she wanted a new Fright Night. That he would hold the title until she found her own court. Didn’t argue when she had him run around collecting artifacts of power and tomes upon tombs upon monuments upon obelisks of information from the living and dead and not-quite-either. And she paid him back for his troubles, well learned about the value of not owing debt. Ghosts didn’t bother his little town nearly so much, and she even paid him in gold and rarities for his services. In due time, she’d even tell him how to nurture that city-spirit-tie he’d begun to form, but not yet. Too soon, too fragile, and Phantom was still yet too alive to understand that the attachment to humans, the heartbreak of outliving them, was the nature of ghosts like them.

Phantom complained at length about just how often he kept running into John Constantine and a… Raven? Or some other bird. Not one of Lady Gotham’s flock, so not her problem. And sure, okay, she is supposed to be bringing order back to the realms or what have you. The fractured place fit her current fractured image perfectly as is, no adjustments needed.

But, and this is important- what she wanted wasn’t necessarily the crown. She wanted the investment. So much like her citizens, or her citizens were so much like her, there was ALWAYS another angle.

It’s simple. She, nearly mirror to the Infinite Realms that the fractured glass feeling of the title felt like slipping on a glove, needed healing. No one wanted to heal Lady Gotham, proud and prideful and snarling as her stone wings chipped and ground against themselves as she moved. But, there was some interest in healing the one who held the fate of the Realms in clawed hands.

Her curses acted as shields while she found ways to mend, and her status as a living city meant that stubborn heroes would come to her aid whether she deserved it or not.

Such as Phantom, holding the Soul Shredder at his hip, the Amulet of Aragorn around his neck, shards of a crystal staff and the containers of the Ring of Rage and the Crown of Fire. It’s not like she needed either, she wasn’t as insecure in her power as someone like Pariah Dark or that strange vampire creature Phantom had fought at least a few times now. He also had a few other artifacts, such as yet another ring and the scraps of a gauntlet now turned into a small arm brace. He looked pleased, probably. Lady Gotham isn’t too sure anymore. It was a sort of grimace, which is what she looked like when she smiled.

He was nearly done with his current duties, at least. All he had to do was go to her flock, present the items to the correct bird or bat, and explain the mystical magical dread that they now needed to clean up, on behest of Lady Gotham. Even if they refused now, she’d just wait for them to become one of her subjects. By all means, she’d delay it, because she did love her knights. But she had use of them, and they already did so well to keep her from dissolving into total tar and despair and darkness.

To her oldest knight, the sword that shows the worst fears to whomever is struck down, a power he’d seen used to the unfortunate worst and devastating amount of its ability.

To her oldest bird that tried to leave the nest, the crown that responded most powerfully to the strongest emotions, an ability that would test his control over his emotions that he oftentimes masked.

To the one whose wings got clipped but learned to fly anyways, a ring that once allowed a dragon princess to hide in plain sight, a role that she had long since adapted to.

To the one that was almost in her grasp now, a skeleton key to unlock anything in the city, even as he locked himself away more often than not.

To the one who found her flock lacking, who forced his way in and made his place there, the amulet to let him fly higher than ever if he could bring himself out of the shadows long enough to do so.

To her bird that defied her father, she gifts the ring to heighten emotion, to bring out the parts of her she files behind such cheerful chirps.

To the youngest of the birds, she gives the crystal shards, allowing him to control others fates in a way he himself would loathe, either to have done to him or to do upon others now that he has been under his father’s wing.

And to the one that holds power within himself, the brace that is useless on its own, one that works only when given power higher than he himself thinks he wields.

“Keep an eye on them, would you? Even afterwards?” Lady Gotham told Phantom, her voice like a death rattle between headstones, but also the light at the end of an alleyway.

“Sure,” Phantom said, shrugging one shoulder. “Maybe I can get Batman to help with this book report while I’m out. Think he’s read The Great Gatsby?”

“Perhaps so,” she rumbled.

Phantom hummed. “Good enough for me.”

And he was off. And Lady Gotham smiled.

It was a bit less of a grimace than she remembered it being.

Lady Gotham: Ghost King

...so I've fallen down the DP x DC rabbithole (I fell down ages ago). I've seen a lot of fics that personify Gotham. Lady Gotham and Danny interact in these stories in various ways. There are a lot of Ghost King Danny stories in this fandom.

I had a thought. What if Lady Gotham fought Danny at a weak point, or maybe caught him by surprise (since in these stories she's usually pretty weak), and she became Ghost King? Of course she could also be really powerful, but anyone fighting the Ghost King would run into trouble so I feel like it would take special circumstances for her to defeat Danny. What would her kingship do to Gotham (the city)? What would that do to the Realms?

Just a thought.

[clockwayswrites]

I totally didn't write this with a fever.

wc: 815, Masterpost, Shopping Montage

“What do you think, parrots and way too many leaves or palm trees and waves?” Danny said, holding the two horrifically patterned Hawaiian shirts up in front of him.

They were standing in one of Crime Alley’s better thrift stores. While Danny had agreed to let Jason buy him some clothing, he had insisted it be at thrift stores. He wasn’t ‘going to let Jason spend that much money on clothing’, he claimed.

Jason figured that meant that Danny hadn’t clocked who he was yet.

Danny waggled the offensive shirts again.

“Tuesday…”

“Ah, I see, clearly it is option number three then,” Danny said somberly before dramatically pulling out a third shirt behind the other two and, “unicorns, rainbows, and hibiscus!”

It was eye searingly bright— like a pack of highlighters had thrown up on it— and clearly whoever had designed it had never seen an ungulate, rainbow, or hibiscus flower in their lives.

“No. No, you are not getting that because I am buying it for my fashion disaster of a brother. He’ll love it.”

“Really?” Danny asked, nose wrinkling adorably as he looked down at the shirt in his hand.

“Trust me, if you knew him, you wouldn’t be doubting it.” Besides, it stopped Danny from getting it even as a joke.

“Huh. Sounds like some brother.”

“That’s an understatement,” Jason said, taking the unicorn shirt and hanging the other two up. “Why don’t we start with pants. Three pairs at least.”

Danny scrambled after Jason. “Three pairs? That means I’d have four if the blood comes out.”

“It will come out.”

“Then that’s four! And that’s way too many.”

“One pair for every two days and a back up pair if you don’t get laundry done or lose another pair to a rogue attack,” Jason explained, finding the jean section. “What size are you and what type do you like. Baggy, boot cut, skinny?”

Danny stared down at the tables of jeans, looking more than a little lost. “Um, blue? Blue is good?”

“Disaster, Tuesday,” Jason said. He sized Danny up before picking out a half dozen jeans and shoving them at the other. “Try these on.”

“Jason, I really don’t—”

“Tuesday, I’m getting you three pairs of jeans. You might as well at least make sure they’re comfortable. Go try on the pants. If these don’t work, we’ve got others to try.”

“I, um, okay,” Danny said with a little nod and disappeared into the fitting booth.

As Jason grabbed another few pairs of pants, he had to wonder when the last time that Danny actually went shopping was from how he was reacting. Having to try on the jeans to make sure they fit was pretty basic. Hoping to make sure Danny really had enough clothing, Jason grabbed a few shirts to add to the pile. Mostly he stuck with basics, but he tossed in a few shirts that seemed nerdy in a way that an engineer might like. He pushed the pile under the edge of the fitting room curtain with his foot.

“What— I don’t—”

“Just be good and try on the shirts,” Jason ordered, as gently as he could, then he leaned against the wall opposite of the little line of changing booths to wait.

The sound of the curtain pulling open had Jason looking up from his phone. Danny stood just inside the booth, tugging down at the hem of the dark red henley where it set over the navy skinny cut jeans.

Danny shifted on socked feet. (Jason made note of the holes in the toes.) “I don’t know if…”

“Gives me a spin, Tuesday,” Jason said, tucking his phone in his pocket. “You act like you’ve never gone clothes shopping before.”

“Been a good few years,” Danny drawled, but spun as he was told. The pants did surprising favors for Danny’s ass for being thrift store pants.

“Never had that sudden growth spurt?” Jason teased.

Danny huffed. “I’m a short king.”

“Well, your Majesty, put both those in the yes pile and go try on some more.” Jason shooed Danny back into the booth with a wave. “When you’re done, we’ll grab you a pack of socks and boxers from the Dollar Tree next door— no arguing— and then I’ll show you the best diner in Crime Alley.”

“Am I going to have to let you pay there too?”

“Yep, so be a good figure head of a dated governmental system and hush.”

“Or it will be the guillotine for me?” The question was muffled as Danny changed.

“You’re too pretty to lose your head,” Jason said. “It would be the dungeons with you.”

Danny cleared his throat after a pause. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jason said with a chuckle and a determination to ignore that mental picture. “Now come on, show me the next outfit.”

-----

AN: And Dick wore that unicorn shirt far, far too often.

Hopefully it's coherent despite me being sick. The start of this came to me as I was trying to sleep with a 102ish fever so who am I to deny it?

Stay delightful (and hydrated) darlings!

I no longer tag for various reasons, but you can subscribe to be notified at the masterpost. (Queued this post so I'll update the masterpost when I wake)

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 13. Tara Carpenter

A/N: The way y’all voted on that poll was a true landslide lol I guess I didn’t realize how huge the tara stans are. So here goes something for my final fall prompt, hope this doesn’t flop like scream 7 will 🤭🤫🫠 but this is a short and simple ending so I do hope you enjoy this.

PROMPTS are from HERE & HERE + I’m using: going to a pumpkin patch + “you look cold, do you want a hug?” + “you think someone died here?”

WARNINGS: slight language I think? Dark humor. Age-difference: with Tara being twenty-one and oc/reader being twenty-five/six + Chad and Tara never became a thing in this timeline!

<- read my previous october anthology prompt here.

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Being at a pumpkin patch in mid-November when the skies were painted like pale ice in a frozen lake and the trees lost their copper leaves for good was questionable for Tara. The air no longer had its crispness to it but it started to feel more along the lines of a wild animal taking bites out of your face here in New York. However Tara couldn’t find herself complaining—well despite the fact that Sam turned this into a group outing—Tara couldn’t wait to see Johnnie.

Johnnie was Sam’s age, older than Tara, and easily became likable in Tara’s eyes although Sam often gave Johnnie a hard time even in the beginning. Of course they still had to be cautious but Tara always stood on the fact that she just wanted to live life after it’s been at risk of being taken away for good. She wouldn’t be as naive as last year but something about Johnnie had Tara’s insides turning into mush—in a good way though—not in a decaying guts kind of way.

The train ride was recommended by Johnnie to her family’s farm from the city and that became a whole debacle between the friends, until Tara waved her phone in the air saying that she already purchased a ticket while the rest could spend forever trying to figure out what they wanted to do. Mindy found this humorous how whenever Johnnie was mentioned, Tara made it her mission to be tuned into the conversation if she checked out.

Mindy was the first to pick up on the signs before Tara did and took great pride in Tara coming to her first out of the core four. Chad would argue against that saying he was actually the first since Tara did start to vent when they pulled a all nighter together. However he actually had no clue who Tara could be talking about and ended up eavesdropping when she chatted to Mindy one afternoon when he was supposed to be studying…basically pick a twin to believe at this point.

Tara couldn’t wipe the smile off her face on the train ride, fingers rapidly flying over her screen to the dimpled grin on her face when she spotted Johnnie helping out at the entrance of her family’s pumpkin patch.

“They’re with me, cousin.” Johnnie informs the family member with hair as white as snow, before grabbing up the walkie to contact someone else to head to the front and help out, now being off the clock with her friends here.

“Can we get more free perks for Christmas?” Chad asks as they briefly embrace and Johnnie rolls her eyes.

Johnnie folded her arms, “Why? So you can continue bringing your flings around and eat their tongues instead of enjoying the scenery?”

Chad frowned, “who are these flings that you speak of? I’m here enjoying the pumpkins with my favorite sister.”

As he goes to toss an arm over the curly haired girl’s shoulder, she shoves him away, “save it for the jury, Chad. I saw you eyeing that pretty girl with the shell earrings and racer jacket not too long ago.”

“I mean…she could be the one.” Chad couldn’t even bother to deny his wandering eyes.

Sam, Mindy, and Tara all share a groan while Danny snickers at Chad’s usual antics before being elbowed by Sam.

“Hey Tara,” Johnnie says, falling into step with the smaller girl; after informing everyone of the many activities the farm included.

Tara smiles up at her, “Hey Johnnie…remind me why we’re going pumpkin hunting so late into the season?”

“Well…I’m having a Friendsgiving next weekend at my spot and…that maybe partly true but I also wanted to hang out with you again before that.” Johnnie was honest with this, which made Tara slowly nod her head in appreciation.

Johnnie used to attend the same university as the three, received her degrees, started her business of creating designs on amputee’s prosthetics and moved to New Jersey two months ago to purchase her own home. So her having her shit together was definitely inspiring (and not to mention attractive) in Tara’s eyes and although she didn’t have everything figured out herself, one thing she was sure of: spending time with Johnnie felt right, scary yet comfortable and safe.

“Ohhh that’s right, I almost forgot about that.” Tara widens her eyes in realization, cursing to herself that she actually did forget about this but knew she could blame it on being swamped in school work, while Johnnie stumbles.

With a hand on her chest, she sighs playfully, “you wound me carpenter.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tara replies with a longing stare as they approach the line in front of a few booths.

Johnnie leans towards Tara who doesn’t realize she’s holding her breath, “what’re you in the mood for?”

“…hmm?” Tara asks, quickly pulling her eyes back to the line when Johnnie tries to catch her eye.

Johnnie laughs, “the menu. Anything catch your interest?”

“Well,” Tara starts as the autumn chill washes over the attendees on the farm, making her hunch her mesh covered shoulders a bit and clasp her hands together, “what would you recommend?”

“Everything.”

Tara scoffs as Johnnie winks at her.

“Can you even see the menu up ahead?”

“I’m not blind.”

“Nah, just short.” Johnnie teases while Tara quickly tosses a middle finger at the older girl.

Johnnie laughs to herself, picking up on tara’s attire which failed to keep her warm on this breezy farm. So Johnnie takes the opportunity to stand behind Tara instead, who is now bouncing on her tippy toes to what may seem like she was attempting to see the menu but it was probably to keep her blood flowing better.

Tara’s almost ready to swing until her belly realizes the familiar rasp by her ear, “you look cold, do you want a hug?”

Before her mouth can fumble out an answer, tatted hands come into Tara’s view as Johnnie locks her arms across Tara’s shoulders. She doesn’t find herself going stiff but easily welcomes Johnnie’s touch. A small smile graces Tara’s lips as her eyes fall in love with the dainty details of ink that decorate Johnnie’s skin. The artwork tells a story of Johnnie’s big heart which some may view as a contrast to her androgynous exterior much like the striking scar through Tara’s palm. That same scar Johnnie lightly draws a fingertip over from time to time and does so right now as Tara buries her nose against the side of Johnnie’s tatted other thumb.

Tara can even smell the balance of scents on Johnnie’s warm skin, a light creamy but earthy scent that makes Tara envision curling underneath blankets and staring out at Misty mountains instead of crowded streets full of loud voices, and suspicious faces. A sense of serenity that Tara wasn’t sure she’d ever find until she met Johnnie.

“What ya smiling at?”

Tara pries her eyes open, knowing she had been caught but keeps her eyes on the line that she didn’t realize moved forward some. “Nothing. You just think you’re so smooth when you could have been said you wanted to hold my hand earlier.”

Johnnie quickly places a peck to Tara’s temple so fast that she thinks she imagines it, “I want to do more than just hold your hand,” Johnnie ends up whispering before unraveling herself from Tara, who has to fight to hold herself up right.

“S’orry.” She mutters to those behind her as Johnnie takes the lead, heading right up to the stand, falling into small chatter with the worker before introducing an awkward Tara.

Tara is wide eyed as Johnnie banters back and forth for a little before they both set eyes on Tara.

“What?” Tara raises a brow, finding that she’s zoned out again just gazing at Johnnie socialize.

“You strike me as a apple nacho’s kinda girl.” The male worker says while Johnnie pretends to think about it.

“I’d say a apple cider donut but you’re of course welcome to try whichever or anything else on the board.” Johnnie responds, “on me.”

Tara tilts her head to the side, “what’re you getting?”

“The apple nachos,” Johnnie states.

Tara nods, “then I’ll get the donut…as long as you share.”

“Sure, sure. Anything you want,” Johnnie beams before turning back to the man, “you heard the lady!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He fans Johnnie with a knowing look before shouting out to the cooks off to the side.

With a carton tray full of crisp apple pastries—nachos, a side of caramel, two forks, and a yellow bag full of mini apple cider donuts, the two continued traveling through the large field together.

“Where have these been my entire life?” Tara groans after savoring the dessert.

Johnnie laughs, “right up here on this farm, I take it you’re enjoying those nachos?”

“Enjoying? More like I’d love to marry them! Can’t you tell by the way I’m murdering these bitches?! Perfect crunch on the outside and crisp from the apple on the inside, all with a side of caramel sauce?! It’s so delicious to the point i can’t even apologize for the noises you’re hearing because it’s your fault and I hope we finish them before the rest try to get any.” Tara admits through her rant while Johnnie abruptly stops.

Tara lifts her head, ready to question what was going on but Johnnie steered them in a different direction, “then we better head the other way since they’re all up by the goats and llamas.”

“Good call,” Tara says peeking over her shoulder to see Sam all cuddled up with Danny.

Disgustingly so.

Johnnie’s family farm was nice to be at although the temperature was constantly dropping but there weren’t many people out this evening, which was fine by Tara. The further they circled around the farm the closer they got to one of the rides here. It was the Ali baba—the large swing on the boot of a bulldozer? The pair stood beside each other outside the gate, watching as a few faces disappeared higher into the now gravel colored sky from side to side.

“you think someone died here?” Tara asks around the donut she previously stuffed her freckled face with.

Johnnie glances at tara and rotates to her better ear, “huh?”

The air from the ride and the earth along with the carnival music made it a bit difficult but after tara finishes the donut she speaks a bit louder, repeating the question, “you think someone died here?”

A couple shoot Tara a nasty look as they exit from behind the fence and Johnnie smirks at them with a mocking wave, leaning against the metal gate. Tara let’s out a snort as she leans towards Johnnie.

“Where’s that coming from?” Johnnie sweeps Tara’s bangs to the side.

Tara shrugs, “apparently horror films are not just a one month thing with Mindy. We’re now on your favorite series: final destination.”

Johnnie dips her head in understanding, “Ah,” and almost feels flattered that Tara remembered, “well this farms been open for about fifteen years and that ride’s only been around for the past five maybe? As far I know…no deaths. Why? You wanna get on?”

“Hell yeah I do,” Tara nods with a grin, “and I don’t care that I may puke everything up. As long as you promise to hold my hand.”

Johnnie taps her chin before matching Tara’s smile after lightly pressing their foreheads together, “I think I can do that, babe.”

‘Babe?!’ Tara thinks to herself as Johnnie takes their trash to the nearest barrel before meeting Tara half way with her hand held out.

And Tara doesn’t hesitate as she slips her smaller hand into Johnnie’s tatted one. She gives Tara’s hand a squeeze, fingers interlocked which Tara gazes down at while Johnnie watches Tara. When tara flicks her brown doe eyes back to meet Johnnie’s, they smile sweetly once more, feeling like this could be the start of—nope not something new! but a romance worth taking a stab-wait that’s not right either! chance on.

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[the-witchhunter]

Venom Jason DP X DC Crossover

We’ve seen variations if Danny cures Jason’s pit madness before, but what if doing so made things so much worse. Mild body horror ahead

Set up: Danny meets Jason, either off the clock or as Red hood. He senses something deeply messed up with him, aka the pit madness. Danny wants to help, but this is something he’s never seen before, maybe has heard vague whispers about, so when he can’t convince this man to go to another dimension with him(aka GZ Far frozen) he impulsively tries flushing whatever the hell this is out of Jason with ectoplasm and/or ecto dejecto.

Result: Jason starts to purge his body of the thing inside of him in the most horrifying way, out of his mouth nose and tear ducts. Gasping and surprisingly calm, he looks at the thing that came out of him. It’s red, amorphous, clearly living. and pissed,

So now the living embodiment of the pit rage is in search of a new host symbiote style. Now the struggle begins to get to the new host and free them from this thing before people get killed. Because, as they’re all about to find out, Jason was handling the rage surprisingly well.

in general, I like to think Tim becomes the unfortunate host because that just feels right and would make him much more understanding of the murder attempt. Bruce would be good because I think he could at least control himself a bit. Dick would jump straight to murder the boy has tried before multiple times and that’s without a pit. 

In the end, unable to get rid of Jason offers himself as a host to free his family. The rage is back but it was nice to have had the break all things considered. Plus the symbiote now acts as a new helmet and reinforces his armor and strikes.

So yeah Venom Jason. Feel free to steal this if you want to.

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Game Night

Summary: No One Knows AU Part 13, Jazz decides to make things better in the best way she can think of.

...

So Danny fought Vlad without her, and Jazz is a little annoyed by it.  Sure, things have been a little awkward between them lately, but she knows for a fact that she never gave the impression that she’s done helping her brother.  She’ll never be done helping her brother.  When did she have to start trying to prove that?

Well, whatever.  Either way, she’s not letting Danny do this alone.  And if he’s not letting her help with fights and he’s not letting her help with his friends who are being real jerks, that leaves one area left Jazz can reasonably put some effort into.

“Hey, Mom?  Dad?”

Mom turns from the invention she’s tinkering with and gives Jazz a smile.  “Hi, sweetie!  Did you just get home?  How was school?”

Jazz nods in response to her question, then says, “School was good.  I was wondering if I could talk to you and Dad about something?”

“Sure Princess, what’s going on?” Dad says, moving over to stand next to Mom.

Jazz takes a breath, readying herself for how little Danny’s probably going to like this.

“Do you think we could start having a family game night?” she asks.

Both of her parents look surprised and a little caught off guard, and Jazz can’t blame them.  Her request probably sounds like it comes out of nowhere.  If Danny were here, he’d probably be staring at her like she’s crazy too.

“A family game night?” Mom asks, sounding confused but not against the idea, which is a good start.

“I’ve just noticed we’re all super busy most of the time,” Jazz says, keeping her tone casual.  “You guys are ghost hunting or working here in the lab, Danny and I have school and homework, we just haven’t seen much of each other recently.  I thought it would be nice to have something consistent we can all look forward to doing together.”

Mom brightens, and Jazz knows she’s succeeded.

“Oh sweetie, that’s a wonderful idea,” she says.  “Did you have a night in mind?”

“I was thinking Fridays,” Jazz says.  “That way Danny and I won’t have to worry about any homework right away, and it’ll be right before the weekend for you guys too.”  And Danny can stay up as late as he needs to for ghost fighting and sleep in the next day, Jazz adds on in her head.

“That sounds like a great plan Jazzo,” Dad calls happily.

“Do you want to pick out some games tomorrow?” Mom asks.  “I don’t know if we have many in the house.”

“I’ll pick some up after school,” Jazz says.  “I have a few ideas.”

“Thanks sweetie, that would be lovely.  I’m looking forward to it,” Mom says with a bright smile, and Jazz gives one back before heading back out of the lab and letting them get back to worth.

She glances at the oven clock in the kitchen as she passes and notes that she still has a couple hours before Danny comes home.  He apparently missed Nasty Burger with his friends yesterday, so they’re making it up today.  Jazz hasn’t had a chance to ask him what happened yet, but he seemed happier when he got home from school, so she can’t really object.

For now, she heads up to her room to do her homework as she runs over the plan again in her mind.  It’s not a short one, and it’s probably not going to run totally smoothly.  Especially if she doesn’t get a chance to talk to Danny about it first.

But she can do that either while they’re out patrolling tonight or in the car ride tomorrow, depending on how busy it is.  Figuring out when to do it is the easy part.  The hard part’s going to be convincing him.

…

“What?  No way,” Danny says, predictably.  He turns to look at her from his seat.  “Are you crazy?”

“It can’t go that badly,” Jazz says, giving him a quick glance before refocusing her attention on the road.

“Jazz.  Seriously.  Did you decide to tempt the fates today?  ‘It can’t go that badly?’  What are you talking about?  Of course it can go badly!”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jazz says.  “I mean there’s a limit to how bad it can go when we’re doing all the talking to them without you going ghost.  Without bringing Phantom into it at all.”

“Oh, so instead of hearing them talk about how they want to dissect me specifically, I can hear them talk about how they want to dissect ghosts in general!  That’s so much better!”

Jazz doesn’t say anything for a second.  Danny seems to get that she’s not done, though, and after a second he turns to her.  “What?”

“It’s not… fair,” Jazz says slowly.  “But I think it’s pretty clear at this point that they’re not going to change their minds on their own.  We’ve got to bring it up first.  Even if it’s uncomfortable.”

“And we have to do this now, why?”

Jazz doesn’t say anything again.  She’s pretty sure he’s not going to take “I want at least one part of your life to be not terrible” as an answer.

“You should really try it,” she says instead.  “I’ll do most of the talking.  Just give it a shot.”

She can feel Danny glare at her, even if she doesn’t look away from the road.  “Well considering you pitched it as a family bonding activity, I doubt Mom’s going to let me get out of it on pain of death, so I’m going to have to, aren’t I?”

Jazz sighs.  “I really think it’s a good idea,” she says.

“Oh, well, as long as you think so,” Danny says, turning to glare out the window.  He goes on to not say anything to her for the rest of the drive, and gets out of the car and heads immediately for the school as soon as Jazz stops and pulls into a spot in the parking lot.

Jazz sighs and turns the car off, then climbs out to head into school.

…

Danny seems a little less irritated by the idea on the drive home that afternoon, but Jazz can’t tell if that’s because she hasn’t brought it up yet, and she’d rather not tempt fate.  So instead, she asks if he has plans for the weekend now that he’s not grounded anymore.  And this is when Danny throws her a curveball.

“Actually, yeah,” he says.  “I’m going to the park with Valerie Gray.”

Jazz gives him a quick surprised glance before turning back to the road.  “Valerie Gray?” she asks.  The park part of that plan is more than a little confusing too, but less confusing than who he’s doing it with.  She hadn’t thought the two of them were even the tiniest bit aware of each other, aside from that time Danny accidentally ruined Valerie’s life.  (Which he still hasn’t let go of, to Jazz’s annoyance.)

“Yeah,” Danny says.  “We ran into each other totally by accident yesterday after the fight with Vlad, and then we just kind of… hung out together, by accident mostly.  But it was fun, so we’re doing it again.”

Jazz smiles.  So that’s what he did instead of the park.

“That’s great,” she says, keeping her gaze on the road but making sure Danny can see her smile.  “I didn’t realize that’s what you did instead of Nasty Burger.”

But then Danny goes quiet again, and Jazz knows she’s said the wrong thing.

“That’s not what I meant,” she says.  “I just meant, I’m glad to see you’re having fun with someone.”

Danny sighs.  “I know what you meant,” he mutters, and at least he doesn’t sound angry.

Jazz sighs and doesn’t say anything else.

Being this direct with Danny would definitely be a bad idea, but Sam and Tucker are pissing her off.  They don’t have to like Phantom, that’s fine.  (Mostly.  Not at all.  It’s not fine, but that’s not the point.)  From what little Danny says about Sam and Tucker these days, it seems to be all they talk about now.  And Jazz can tell it’s getting to her little brother.

Because of course it is.  His closest friends spend all of their time together angrily ranting about how much Danny sucks, of course it’s getting to him.

If it wouldn’t just make things much worse, Jazz would give the two a giant sister-sized smack upside the head.

Danny doesn’t say anything else until they arrive at home, and Jazz doesn’t try and fill the silence.  But for as much she doesn’t want him to constantly be thinking about Game Night, she doesn’t want him to forget it either.  So as they both walk into the house and Danny starts for the stairs, Jazz weighs her options, then calls out, “Don’t forget we’re having our first game night after dinner!”

Danny shoots her a glare, but it’s a little less angry than the ones she got this morning, so Jazz counts it as a win and heads over to look through the board game selection she picked up yesterday.

She’ll save the chessboard for her and Mom, as she doesn’t imagine Danny or Dad would take to it as well as the two of them would.  Danny and Dad would definitely like Battleships more than them, but it’s a two person game anyway, so she sets that aside too.  The games she bought that would work for four people are Uno, Sorry, and Yahtzee, and out of the three, the last one sounds like the one it’ll be easiest to have a conversation over.  So she sets the other two aside as backups and sets up Yahtzee on the coffee table.

Then she heads upstairs to finish her homework, knowing she has an hour or so before Mom will call her and Danny down for dinner.

She doesn’t need much time to finish her homework, but she’s already settled on a game plan, leaving her with not much to do for several hours.  So, even though she definitely won’t need them tonight, she starts piling through the evidence she’s been collecting on the consciousness and psychology of ghosts.

It’s slow going, especially considering most ghosts aren’t exactly the type to stop and chat about how their brains work, but Jazz is getting somewhere.  She’s seen enough from Danny to thoroughly discard the “ghosts are malicious monsters who somehow also have no consciousness and can’t feel pain” theories that her parents have been working under.  But she doesn’t have much in regards to an alternative theory, especially in scientific ways.  She’ll get laughed out of the room by her parents if she shows them what she has to disprove their theory with no idea what’s actually happening.

But she doesn’t want to start asking invasive questions to Danny about how his brain works.  He has enough going on.

So, she’ll move slowly.  Let her parents discover the flaws in the theory themselves.

Hopefully.

“Jazz, Danny, dinner’s ready!” Mom calls up the stairs, and Jazz drops her notebook, startled.

“Yep, be right there Mom!” she calls back.  She pulls open her desk drawer, jimmies up the fake bottom, and slips her notebook inside it, then heads out and towards the steps.

Danny’s leaving his room the same time she is, and he gives Jazz one last glare but follows her down the stairs.

Mom is setting stove-grilled burgers out on the table, and miracle of miracles, none of them are glowing green this time.  After that she goes back to get cups with ice water, and Dad is setting silverware by everyone’s place for the slightly burnt potatoes that were cooked with the burgers.  It looks like a surprisingly appetizing dinner, and Jazz can tell Danny thinks so too as he sits down next to her.

“I thought I should make something a little fancy for tonight to celebrate our first game night!” Mom says in explanation as she sits down at her place with the last cup.  “Thanks for the great idea, Jazz!”

Jazz gives a smile that hopefully doesn’t come off as nervous.  She told Danny she’ll do most of the talking, and she will, but that doesn’t mean she’s not nervous about it.

“Thanks Mom,” she says.  “It’ll be nice to have something to look forward to at the end of the week.”

“I think so too Jazzercise,” Dad says with a grin at her.  “Though I still think a family ghost hunt would have been more fun.”

“No,” Jazz and Danny both say at the same time.

“The kids are right dear,” Mom says, patting him on the shoulder.  “We shouldn’t bring work into fun times with them, even if work is fun.”

“Exactly, a good work life balance is very important,” Jazz says, gripping her hands together tightly under the table.  “But actually, on the subject of ghosts—”

She ignores Danny’s not-so-subtle glare at her as both of her parents turn to her.

“You guys were in that fight downtown last night, right?” Jazz asks.  “With that dog ghost?”

“That was us, sweetie, thanks for noticing!” Mom says.  “But luckily it didn’t hurt anyone.  Calmed right down once Phantom showed up.  But we’ll have to keep an eye out, who knows what he’s planning on making it do—”

“Yeah that’s great Mom,” Jazz cuts her off, before she can start going off on a tangent about Phantom’s evil plans.  “But why didn’t it hurt anyone, do you think?”

Jazz sees Danny roll his eyes in her peripheral, and ignores him again.

“Oh I haven’t the slightest idea sweetheart,” Mom says.  “But ghosts don’t think logically like you and me.  It could be anything really.”

“Yeah, as long as we manage to capture it, who cares what it’s thinking?” Dad says, taking off half of his burger with a bite.

Jazz sighs.  “But don’t you think—” she starts, and is interrupted by Danny pushing back from the table and muttering something about suddenly not feeling well.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Mom calls after him.

“Fine!” Danny snaps, which is when Jazz knows she shouldn’t follow him just yet.

Instead, she turns back to Mom and Dad as soon as he’s vanished up the stairs.  “I think it wasn’t hurting people because it’s a dog,” she says plainly.  “A well trained one.  And it didn’t want to.”

“That’s a nice thought, Princess,” Dad says.  “But it’s still a ghost.  It’s dangerous.”

“So are normal dogs under the right circumstances,” Jazz says firmly.  “And didn’t you say it calmed down once Phantom showed up?  The same way a dog might if it saw its owner?”

“It’s still different from a human and a normal dog, sweetie,” Mom says.  “But I can see why you’d think that.”

“Can you think about it then?” Jazz asks.  “If you see where I’m coming from?  Can you consider it?”

Mom sighs, seeming a mix of amused and exasperated.  But then she says, “Alright sweetie, I’ll give it some thought.  But I still think you’re looking at this wrong.”

Jazz nods anyway.  Honestly, that’s probably about the best she could have expected.  “Thank you,” she says.

The rest of dinner is more lighthearted, and they talk about more basic stuff.  Jazz mentions the math test she aced last week, and Dad gives her a beaming smile and ruffles her hair just enough to be annoying.  Mom mentions the new invention she’s working on, and Jazz listens to the science while also making mental notes of any way it could hurt Danny.  The food is actually edible and surprisingly good for once, so Jazz can enjoy it.

But as the dinner starts to wrap up, Mom mentions that Danny still hasn’t come down, and stands up with a mention that she’ll go find him.

“I got him Mom!” Jazz calls.  She hops up immediately and heads off towards the stairs before Mom can protest.

She knocks on Danny’s door and calls out his name so he’ll know it’s her.  She waits a couple seconds, and Danny jerks the door open, though he doesn’t exactly look thrilled to see her.

He grabs her arm and pulls her inside, then slams the door shut behind them.

“Happy now?” he hisses, turning to face her.  And for all that he’s keeping his voice down, it does nothing to hide how angry he is.  “Are you satisfied?  Do you get yet that no one’s ever going to change their mind?”

“They said they’d think about it,” Jazz points out.

Danny blinks, seeming surprised for a second, then narrows his eyes.  “Because they see your point or because they’re humoring you?”

Jazz doesn’t say anything, and Danny rolls his eyes.  “That’s what I thought.”

“Danny, they’re not going to start by immediately accepting that they’re wrong,” Jazz says.  “That’s not how people change their minds.  Especially with things they believe in as strongly as our parents believe this stuff about ghosts.”

“Oh well that’s great, because I totally have the time and energy to put towards changing their minds slowly!” Danny snaps, before pausing and lowering his voice again.  “Let me just take a break from all the ghost fighting and homework I’m constantly drowning in and best friends who hate me and new Huntress sidekicks who want to kill me!  I’m sure I’ve got plenty of time in between all that!”

Jazz blinks, caught off guard.  “New Huntress sidekicks?  When did that happen?”

“That’s not the point,” Danny snaps.  “Look, Mom and Dad are so far down on my list of priorities right now it’s ridiculous.  And I would love to not have to also deal with them bad mouthing Phantom even more than they already do!  I get enough of that from Sam and Tucker!”

Jazz sighs.  “Okay,” she agrees.  “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Danny blinks.  “Huh?”

“You’re right, it’s not fair for you to have to deal with it.  I’ll talk to them on my own.”

Danny groans and drops his head into his hands.  “Ugh, no!   That’s not— I don’t want you to bother at all, Jazz!  It could just as easily make things worse!”

“It could also make things better,” Jazz says.  “I know what I’m doing, Danny.  I know how to talk to Mom and Dad.”

Danny scoffs and glares away, muttering something that sounds like “Why do I even bother.”

“Come on, no more ghost talk tonight.  Let’s go play a board game.”

Danny looks up at her incredulously.  “You were serious about that?”

“Yes,” Jazz says.  “It’s important for you to have some time where you can just relax and do things you enjoy.”

“Stop therapizing me,” Danny says.

“Good luck with that,” Jazz says plainly, and Danny groans.

“You gonna come play games with us?” Jazz asks.  “I actually think Mom and Dad are looking forward to it.  And I’m sure they’ll let you finish your dinner first.”

Danny glares at her, then mutters, “Fine.  But no ghosts, I mean it.”

“No ghosts,” Jazz agrees, holding up her hand.  “I swear.”

Danny sighs, sounding irritated and exhausted, but when Jazz heads out of the room a second later he follows her out, which is a start.

[five-rivers]

First. Previous.

Clockwork hummed, mostly to Daniel, but partially to himself.  He was pleased by how the day had turned out so far.  There had been many possibilities, many branches stemming from Daniel’s choices.  Despite that, Daniel had still chosen to come here, to stay with him, to trust him with himself so completely that he had fallen asleep on Clockwork.  With a little help, yes, but the fact was there.

But there were other things to address.  

He waited a little longer, just to be sure.  Sometimes, the currents of time were such that even he had trouble navigating them.  No matter.  He didn’t especially need that for this.  

The earpiece next to the small camera chittered angrily.  The words would have been too quiet for a human to hear, and Daniel was too deeply asleep to take note of them, but Clockwork was far from human, and he was very awake.

He smiled at the artificial eye of the camera on the table.  “Hello, Dr. Fenton, Dr. Fenton.”

“What have you done to Danny?” demanded Madeline Fenton.  

“I have given him a place to rest, and prevented him from undertaking a dangerous journey on his own,” said Clockwork, calmly.  

“Let him go.”

“Yeah!  You have no right to kidnap our boy!”

“I did not kidnap him.  He came to me.”  Clockwork tilted his head.  “And I will not send him away.”

“You monster, you–!”

“I was not the one who sought to lock him away,” said Clockwork.  “Who kept him closed up in one place, against his wishes, to the point of distress.”

“We wouldn’t have to do that if it wasn’t for you,” hissed Madeline Fenton.  “If you didn’t–”

“Dr. Fenton,” interrupted Clockwork.  “Daniel is a child.  He will always be a child, because he died as one.  He is also only half human.  Treating him as a human child will do him no good.”

“And sending him to places like that will?”  snapped Madeline.  

“We’ve been making adjustments!” protested Jack at the same time.  

“You have sent him to far more dangerous places than Three Twilights,” said Clockwork.  

“Not knowingly.”

“Ah, the age-old argument of whether or not it is better for harm to be done out of ignorance or done with full cognizance.”

“We–”

“Jack, don’t engage.  Either let Danny go, or we are coming to get him.”

“You may try,” said Clockwork, “but you will not find us.  Daniel will go when he so desires, and not a moment sooner.  And speaking of time, you do not have an infinite amount.”

“Are you threatening us?”

“As you were threatening me?  No.  Merely stating a fact.  Someday, you will die, and Daniel will continue.  Will his sister then inherit the responsibility for his care?  And who shall be next, when she passes in turn?  His nieces and nephews, should they exist?  Do you think he will tolerate that?”

“What are you saying?” asked Jack, gruffly.  

“I am saying that one way or another, Daniel will someday come make his home, the place he always returns to, with me.  Whether that time comes before you die or after is up to you.  As you have seen, you will not be able to keep him locked away.”

.

“Okay,” said Danny, having watched Clockwork put the last small gear in place in the clock he was helping him repair.  “I… should probably go home.”

He didn’t want to.  Not because he was scared, or anything like that, but he knew his parents wouldn’t be happy with him - he’d purposefully left off the earpiece of his communications equipment when he woke up - and he didn’t know when he’d be let out again.  Surely, they’d patch the hole he’d gotten through this time.  

But on the other hand, he didn’t want to make them worry too much.  He knew they were only trying to keep him safe, as crazy as being stuck in the house all the time was making him.  

“Excellent timing,” said Clockwork.  “They should be arriving soon.”

Danny stared at him for a moment, not processing that statement.  “What, like in the Speeder?”

“Yes,” said Clockwork.  

“They’re coming here?”

“They are.”

“Are you– Do you– Are you going to meet them?” Danny asked.  

“I believe that would be unwise, at this juncture,” said Clockwork, removing the thin gloves he used in the workshop and replacing them with his normal thicker, more leathery pair.  “In the future, perhaps.  You should gather your things.”

“Right,” said Danny, sliding off the stool and making his way to the workshop door, “right.  Thank you for letting me visit.”

“Daniel.”

Danny paused to look over his shoulder.  “Yeah?”

“My home is yours, whenever you need it.”

Danny blushed.  “Thanks, Clockwork.”

[charcoalhawk]

Don’t go where I can’t follow

What scares Tucker the most, after everything, was that he hadn’t even known anything was wrong.

Truce gift for @phan-pheeking-tastic, ended up going with Tucker and Sam finding out Danny is half-ghost in a No-One Knows AU.

This was super fun to do, hope you enjoy!

What scares Tucker the most, after everything, was that he hadn’t even known anything was wrong.

He had thought, with how close he and Danny were, how close they had been, that he would have known if something had happened to him. To his family.

But he hadn’t. Neither had Sam.

When he wakes up that day there’s no dread, no forbording feeling in gut. Heck, Tucker wakes up pretty happy.

It’s the last day of school before winter break, and he and Sam have plans to play as much Doom as possible so they can hopefully beat it before the new year. There’s rumors that anyone who can will be able to access new dlc content that otherwise won’t be available until at least the summer.

Some small part of him is even happy that Danny isn’t in town this week, meaning he and Sam can hang out without things getting awkward.

And Tucker hates thinking like that. Danny was his best friend for a long, long time, but ever since high school started the two of them had slowly drifted apart. Which he does understand, on some level. They’re not five years old anymore playing together on the playground.

But Danny had become so aloof with them, barely interacting with them in class and showing up late to hang out, if he even showed up at all.

And it couldn’t have been because of their new undead neighbors that now haunted the town. After the first like, month, Phantom had proved he was a decent enough ghost that most people didn’t really have to worry about malicious undead any more than they had to worry about overdue homework.

He and Sam have just finished fighting the second to last boss in Doom when there’s a knock on his door. A quick glance at his computer’s clock shows that it isn’t even 11pm yet, so it can’t be his parents telling him to start winding down to go to sleep. It’s also winter break now, so why-?

After a second his Dad’s face peeks through the door, his form backlit by the hallway lights. He thinks he sees his mom too, but after a moment she seems to briefly lay her hand on his father’s shoulder then disappear from view.

“Hey kiddo,” it's hard to tell what his dad is thinking at that moment, and his voice sounds carefully neutral, “are you at a good stopping point for the night? I need to talk with you about something serious.”

He goes to share a glance at Sam but she’s already getting up from her desk.

“Hey Tuck,” Sam’s voice is muffled from her starting to remove her headphones, “I think I’m going to have to call it quits for tonight. My parents just came in and said they need to talk about something important. Hopefully tomorrow we can start planning for the final boss. I’ll text you later, night.”

“Sounds good,” he replies, quickly saving and logging out to the main screen, “night.”

And with that the room is washed in silence. After a second of hesitation his Dad reaches over and flips on the room’s overhead light, moving to sit on the bed across from his gaming set-up.

“Soooo…” Tucker prompts, “what’s up? You said you needed to tell me about something serious?”

His dad doesn’t respond immediately, taking a deep breath before slowly reaching out to rest his hand on Tucker’s shoulder.

“Tucker,” his father looks so sad, “there’s been an accident, a- an attack. Danny’s mom is in a coma.”

———

It takes almost a week to fully find out what happened.

The Fenton’s had been visiting a family friend in Wisconsin, apparently Vlad Masters had gone to college with Danny’s parents, and had invited them all to his mansion for the weekend. It had also been rumored that Mr. Masters had been experiencing some supernatural events that he had wanted Maddie and Jack to help him solve, and with how fanatic the two were around ghosts they had obviously been eager to help in any way they could.

And it had turned out that the rumors had been true, and at least one violent ghost had attacked the mansion the following evening.

Here the details get murky.

Some reports say a single ghost was responsible for the attack, and only the Fenton’s weapons and skill saved everyone from being killed by the vengeful spirit. Others claim it was two ghosts having a territory spat that just so happened to happen in the mansion. Some even claim Phantom drove off the raging ghost and stopped more injuries from occurring.

Number of ghosts aside, the attack had destroyed almost a third of the Masters’ Mansion, and had left most of the staff with injuries from debris or from the ghosts themselves. Danny and Jazz had apparently escaped the worst of it because their parents had gotten them out early on and the two had hidden in the nearby woods until authorities arrived.

Jack had gotten a nasty concussion and broken two ribs fighting off the ghost(s), and Maddie had suffered some kind of mental or physical trauma that left her comatose.

Vlad Masters’ was missing, no one had seen him directly prior to the attack, and afterwards it was like he had just up and vanished.

————

He and Sam stand outside the Fenton house for almost a full minute before Sam seems to find the courage to knock. Two long, followed by two fast and one long, the same combination they’ve all used since they were little kids.

The silence afterwards is thick, and just as Sam is raising her hand to knock again there’s a series of clanking sounds as the locks are undone and the door opens to reveal Jasmine Fenton.

“Oh, hey there,” she gives a small smile, “I’m glad you two are here. Danny is upstairs in his room, we’re all pretty shaken up from what happened, having you two visit should help.”

“How is- how are you holding up?” Tucker asks as they move through the hallway into the living room, a place that’s both so familiar and yet alien, he half expects Danny to be leaning over the staircase inviting them upstairs to his room.

“It’s, I’ve been holding it together,” Jazz says, “I’ll probably be staying here at least until Dad’s ribs are better, luckily all my professors are pretty accommodating and will be letting me attend virtually until I can head back to college. I’m… really scared for my mom, but I trust that she’s getting the best care possible and that she’ll wake up soon.”

Jazz gestures towards the stairs, “Danny’s in his room, call me if you guys need anything. I was actually just about to head over to the Hospital, Dad should be getting discharged today, so we should be back in a few hours.”

With one last smile Jazz heads back the way they came and there’s the sound of the front door opening and closing.

“Should we really be doing this?” Tucker finally breaks the silence, glancing towards the staircase as if Danny will suddenly appear there.

“Honestly I don’t know, but it’s too late to go back now. If we leave Jazz will just ask Danny when she gets back and then we’ll be the assholes who left without saying anything.”

Damn, Tucker hates it when Sam uses logic like that.

“Yeah but it’s just, I don’t think we’ve had a full conversation with him in the past month. It feels wrong to just drop in now when he’s hurting like this.”

“Well it’s not like Dash or Paulina is going to just waltz by and offer to go comfort him,” Sam’s mouth twists into a grimmance, “and Valerie’s probably too busy investigating the attack to try and find the ghosts who did this.”

Tucker can’t argue with that, they really are the closest ones to Danny. Still, it feels wrong to walk up those steps and knock on Danny’s bedroom door like nothing in the past two years has happened.

There’s no immediate answer, but after a second series of knocks there’s the sound of bare feet on hardwood before the door opens slightly, just enough for Danny’s tired blue eyes to peek out.

“Hi,” Danny’s voice is hoarse, “uh, no offense but why are you two here?”

“We uh-,” Tucker shares a glance with Sam, “we wanted to check in on you. I know we aren’t all as close anymore but we wanted to at least see if you were ok in person and see if there was anything we could do.”

That sounded a lot better in his head, but Danny isn’t slamming the door on them, so there’s that. After a moment the door opens fully and he and Sam cautiously walk inside as Danny moves to lean against the far wall.

“I, thanks for coming over?” He seems to almost hug himself, looking anxiously around the room. “I don’t know if your parents put you up to this, or worse Jazz, but you guys don’t need to hang around out of some sense of obligation.”

“We came because we wanted to Danny!” Sam exclaims, “we’re still your friends and, and we care about you! This is obviously traumatizing and we want to help you-“

“You guys don’t understand!” Danny snarls at them. Apparently what Tucker had thought was anxiety was in fact anger.

“You think I’m some scared kid trying to come to terms with an unfortunate accident. Well I’m not!”

Danny’s eyes almost seem to glow in response to his heated words, which doesn’t make any sense. Humans eyes don’t glow, the only thing close to that that Tucker has seen happens when ghosts-

“It was my fault!”

With that last shout there’s a brilliant flash of white, and when Tucker can finally blink the spots out of his vision he finds he can’t quite comprehend what he sees before him.

“I hurt her! I was trying to stop that stupid ghost from hurting my Dad and I ended up almost killing my mom!”

Danny’s too long sweatpants and pullover have been replaced with a glowing hazmat suit, and what’s left standing before them is Phantom, the town’s own ghostly hero. The town’s very young, very dead hero.

“What?”

Sam sounds like she’s just been gut punched, and Tucker doesn’t feel much different.

Everyone in Amity Park knows that Phantom is one of the friendlier ghosts that now haunt them, even dealing with the rowdier ones that try to interfere with day to day human life.

But everyone also agrees that Phantom can be downright terrifying most of the time. The simple fact that he looks all of thirteen makes most residents uncomfortable at best.

Trying to understand that Danny and Phantom are one in the same is almost too much for him, but looking the ghost dead in the eyes now the similarities between the two are overwhelming.

He can see Danny in the way the ghost is hunched like he’s about to collapse onto himself, and he can see Phantom in how his stance is planted and ready to move in a moment's notice.

“It’s-“ and here Phantom's voice breaks, “it’s my fault.”

And with that soft admission the dam finally breaks, and Phantom crumbles to the floor, back heaving as great sobs wrack his body.

In that moment Tucker’s body seems to almost move on to own, moving almost in tandem with Sam to crouch down and envelop Danny in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry that happened,” Sam whispers into Danny’s hair, “I wish you could have told us when this happened so we could have helped. But we know now. We’ll help you however we can, and I’m sure your mom will be better in time.”

Sam sounds so sure of what she’s saying, Tucker can’t even bring himself to speak. Whatever happened to Danny, whatever he’s been doing these past two years, has changed him.

All Tucker can do is tighten his grip, a promise that he hopes he can keep.

[onegianthotmess]

I made Dannie a semi-boyfriend!!!

Meet Raymond “Ray” Claire-Blanc! He is fourteen and goes to school with Danielle, who’s one of his only friends because she talked to him one day when they were little, think about four to five, and has been superglued to his hip since that day!

Ray is the son of the mayor of Clock Town and it is said that the Claire-Blanc family founded the town and that they’ve always governed it in order to keep it as efficient and as punctual as possible! Once, someone outside of the family was mayor and the town went into so much chaos that the new mayor only lasted five days before handing it over to the member of the Claire-Blanc family he ran and rigged the election against.

Though he is an excellent leader and has shown that he holds his family’s gift for running things and being the one in charge, Ray has very high anxiety and low self esteem that makes it very difficult for him to put his foot down on a lot of things that relate to personal comfort. He’s sat in on city council meetings and has been able to run projects and help organize events, but he can’t say no to an outing or socializing because that doesn’t deal with leading people, it deals with his own emotions and comfort levels and he isn’t very good at being firm with those. But Dannie’s helping him work on it!

Ray can also be incredibly forgetful, which doesn’t help with his anxiety, especially when he forgets something and it causes him to be late. Even being a second late makes Ray panic because he could’ve missed something very crucial in that moment when he was late, or something could’ve happened that he could’ve helped to prevent, or all of his friends could die and he’d never be able to say goodbye! In short, Ray hates being forgetful and if it makes him late, he gets a million times more anxious and panicky.

Also, in relation to his forgetfulness, Ray almost always forgets his gloves whenever he leaves the house. He usually likes wearing them because they’re comforting to wear for him, but they’re almost always left on his bedside table. He never remembers to grab them or to put them in another place in order to make it easier to remember to grab them when he leaves the house.

Ray’s also really shy when it comes to meeting people individually. He can do public speaking, but individual socializing freaks him out a bit. He’s also shy about some things, like his interests or hobbies or compliments or who he likes. If any of these are mentioned to him, he goes as red as the rose bushes in his mother’s garden! And when he’s around Dannie the blushing is a hundred times worse. But Dannie is a cute dummy like her brother and is incredibly dense, so she never really notices!

And now let’s have a few fun facts about Ray because I’m getting tired!

Ray is a vegetarian! He doesn’t really like meat and it makes his stomach feel funny and cramp up, which is sort of a family curse. So he eats plant based alternatives to meat that taste pretty close to the real thing so he isn’t dealing with constant tummy pains. Also his favorite dessert is carrot cake with cream cheese frosting with some candied carrots on top.

Ray’s eyesight is really bad, so he wears really strong prescription glasses and sits at the front of class so he can always be sure that he can see. But to make sure that he always has the time, even if he can see the clock in the room, Ray has a pocket watch that he holds very dear to his heart because it was his late great uncle who gave it to him when he was about to turn seven years old. Keeping that pocket watch with him not only quells some of his punctuality anxiety, but also makes him happy that he has something of his great uncle’s with him at all times.

Ray is also very fast and is the best runner on the track team. Despite his lean muscle, he’s pretty athletic and surprises a lot of people with his speed and agility.

Overall, Ray a pretty nice person, though he’s anxious and shy. He’s a great leader and wants to ask Dannie out, but he needs to learn to not chicken out at the last second when he works up the nerve to think about asking her-

[thisaintascenereviews]

The Funeral Portrait - Greetings From Suffocate City

Almost ten years ago to the wire is when I first listened to The Funeral Portrait’s debut EP, For The Dearly Departed, and around eight years is when I listened to their debut album, A Moment Of Silence, but I haven’t cared about them since. I liked their debut EP a lot, because they were really unique, ultimately taking baroque-pop, theatrics, and post-hardcore and put their own spin on it, but the album didn’t hit as much. They went into a more generic direction, and it just didn’t work. Weirdly enough, they haven’t dropped an album in around eight years, for whatever reason, but they’ve been active. They’re back with their new album, Greetings From Suffocate City, and I wasn’t super curious to check it out, but for all I knew, this could be a really cool album. It’s been eight years, so who knows what they sound like now, right?

Well, unfortunately, Greetings From Suffocate City leaves a lot to be desired, although there are things I like a lot about it. I just don’t care for this enough to revisit it, but it’s not surprising that this band is any bigger than they are. I hate to say that, because I don’t want to be mean, but this album isn’t very good. I wouldn’t say it’s terrible, or even bad, because I’ve heard a lot worse this year, but the bad outweighs the good. This album just has a few things that get under my skin, and they may even be just personal gripes that I have, not necessarily something that’s truly bad about it, but I can’t say I enjoyed it.

There are a couple things I like, but they’re going to be backhanded compliments, because as much as they work for me, they also hinder the album. For starters, their vocalist is still really damn good, and it’s no question he has talent, but he’s constantly being so melodramatic, over the top, and theatrical with his delivery, it really takes me out of the album, especially when he’s always at 11. He sounds good, but he’s always doing way too much, even when the song doesn’t require it. He also just kind of sings in one register the whole time, and again, he doesn’t sound bad, but he just doesn’t have much variation in his delivery. I also kind of like their sound here, because instead of generic post-hardcore, they go into an alternative glam-rock sound. Think like My Chemical Romance meets Queen meets David Bowie, but not as good. It’s pretty generic still, but I’ll admit that the sound isn’t half bad, and there are some cool ideas here.

Where the sound doesn’t totally sell me is how generic it is, because they don’t do much with it. One song does have a cool southern-rock feel, and their vocalist even has this preacher sound to his voice, but most of this album is bland glam-rock meets alternative meets post-hardcore. A couple songs get a little heavier, but not too much, unfortunately. I think it doesn’t help that this album is way too long, as it clocks in at over 50 minutes with 14 songs. It just feels like overkill, especially when each song sounds the same, and they all have similar problems.

One of the biggest problems, aside from its length and generic sound, are its lyrics. I always liked this band’s lyrics, but what is this album? Song titles like “Generation Psycho,” “You’re So Ugly When You Cry,” “Stay Weird,” and “Dark Thoughts” make me cringe. That sounds like stuff I’d write when I was 14, and the lyrics don’t disappoint, I guess, even though they’re kind of bad. This album should be alternatively be titled Theater Kids: The Album, because the lyrics are just as melodramatic as the vocals.

They’re just not good, but it doesn’t help the few guest vocalists aren’t good, either. Spencer from Ice Nine Kills, Danny Worsnop from Asking Alexandria, Bert McCracken from The Used, and Eva Under Fire, are on here, and none of these guest vocalists are bad, per se, but in the case of Danny and Bert, how the mighty have fallen. The last Asking Alexandria album wasn’t very good, and I haven’t even wanted to listen to The Used’s newest one, but this is the best features they can get. Yikes, but I guess it could be a lot worse — you could be on a Falling In Reverse album.

I wouldn’t say this album is good, but I wouldn’t call it outright awful. There are some good ideas here, especially in their sound and presentation, but the execution leaves a lot to be desired. I guess if you like My Chemical Romance, or you like more theatrical and over the top stuff, you might dig this, and more power to you. This isn’t offensively bad to me, where I’m appalled that someone would like this, but I’m also kind of like, “Why?” I’m just not sure why someone would rather listen to this over a lot of other stuff, but again, it could be worse — you could listen to a Falling In Reverse album.

[leviathanlazarus]

Reaching for Stardust - Part XIII

Read Looking for Space here / Playlists / Read RFS on Wattpad

Word Count: ~3700

Warnings: none

Apologies for the delay. I got sick for two weeks (it's like this fic foreshadowed my life...jk) and didn't want to let my writing get too far behind <3

---

“I feel like shit, mama,” Josh grumbled, the words muffled by the thick quilt that was swaddled around him. He let out a huff and pulled some of it away from his face, tired, slightly red-rimmed eyes looking at me. “This is not how I wanted to spend the holiday break.”

“I mean, it kind of worked out for me,” I admitted, setting my laptop on the coffee table. “I have a valid excuse for not having Thanksgiving with my parents.” Normally I’d be in our little office space but with Josh suffering from the flu, I was working from the couch or our bed. It was a difficult time with Josh feeling so rough–the poor thing was exhausted and sore, feverish with a scratchy, sore throat. At least it wasn’t anything worse. Normally Josh’s colds only lasted a few days and I figured the flu wouldn’t be much different. A week at most, probably. And I hoped I wouldn’t get sick in turn. 

“That’s fair. We’ll see them for Christmas,” Josh agreed, eyes becoming half-closed while he tucked himself in tighter in the blanket burrito. 

“No–I’m spending it at your place this year, remember?” 

Josh shook his head. “Not if you miss Thanksgiving. Your folks will never let you miss Christmas with them if you’re skipping that.”

“Let’s not even think about that right now,” I told him, checking the clock on my laptop–just over an hour and I could clock out. I leaned over the center cushion to gently feel his forehead. “You still feel warm, Josh. How does your body feel now?”

Eyes now fully closed, he answered, “Cold.” He let out a ragged cough, then added, “But I was hot a few minutes ago so. I dunno.”

“I’d really like you to eat something,” I told him, brushing my fingers through his hair. “You were worried about being too big for the suit, now I’m worried you’ll be too small.” Although that almost seemed impossible given how small he already appeared to be, wrapped up and tucked in like that on the couch.

“A popsicle?” he proposed, blinking slowly at me. “Preferably purple, please?”

“How about a purple popsicle while I heat up some soup for you?”

Josh nodded. “Stupendous.”

I stood up, taking one last, long, good look at him before I had to migrate to the kitchen. “You know, Josh–you are so adorable when you’re sick. I mean, I hate that you’re sick. But no one else I know ever looks this delectable when they’re ill.”

“I’m on the mend,” Josh croaked in protest, hunkering down even more, just the top half of his face visible. 

“I know you are, baby,” I assured him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. I grabbed a grape popsicle from the freezer and delivered it to him before I left him to doze on his own for a few minutes. It was time to get some chicken noodle soup warmed up.

When I returned, Josh had set one of the tray tables in front of himself and was no longer fully cocooned in the blanket. I tutted my disapproval as I set the bowl and spoon down in front of him: “I was gonna get that for you. You’re supposed to rest.” 

“I am resting,” Josh assured me, but the rough croak of his voice told me he definitely needed more. He shifted to the edge of the couch and stirred the soup with his spoon, then looked at me as I sat down next to him, pulling my laptop back to the tops of my thighs. “Getting any honeymoon inspiration?”

Honestly, I was feeling too preoccupied all around to be taking anything as inspiration. The holidays were upon us, adding to stress, and I’d spent more time trying to find ideas for Danny’s birthday gift than doing any actual work. “Not really,” I told him with a sigh. “I think I could go just about anywhere though.”

“Somewhere warm,” Josh said, lifting the spoon to his mouth.

“Somewhere warm would be good,” I concurred, checking the time again. With what I had left, I decided to get back to my actual project while Josh dutifully ate his little lunch and zoned out with cartoons. He spent the rest of the day like that, only getting up to go to the bathroom once, which told me he needed a lot more fluids than what he was getting.

It was a long, slow, tired sort of day. When bedtime rolled around, I grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge and gave it to Josh as he was slowly getting up from the couch. “Can you drink like, half of this before we go to bed, please?”

He nodded. “Okay, mama.” He took a long sip, wincing as he swallowed. “Ugh. My chest hurts.”

A little ripple of concern ran through my own chest. “Really? What’s it feel like?”

“Kind of sharp, I guess.” He put a hand over his chest and inhaled deeply, then winced again. “Yeah. What’s that about?”

I don’t know,” I said slowly, watching his shoulders rise and fall. “But that doesn’t sound good. Let me take your temperature again.” I grabbed the thermometer from the bathroom and slipped it under his tongue; Josh leaned against the counter, shrouded in the throw blanket from the couch, and waited. After a minute, I took it out and, upon reading the numbers, felt my jaw go slack. “Oh, my god, Josh. It’s 102. That’s higher than yesterday.”

Josh brought my hand down to peer at it himself. “Shit, really?”

I set it on the counter and put my hands on his shoulders. “Promise me that if it’s the same–or worse–in the morning, we’ll go to the ER.” Josh instantly, silently balked, rolling his eyes and sighing; I was having none of it. “Promise me. I’m just gonna drag you anyway. You’re not strong enough to fight me off.”

A little hoarse laugh came from his scratchy throat. “Okay, okay. But it’s gonna get better.” He grabbed the Gatorade again and headed towards the bedroom. “This has to be the worst of it, darling.”

I was hopeful of that but was finding it hard to relax once we were in bed. Josh curled up and wiggled against my front; I laid one arm over him and draped my leg over his, listening to him breathe. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, though I was stuck lying awake in the dark with racing thoughts and worry hammering in my heart. Having a cold was one thing. Coming down with the flu was another but still not something most people had to worry about, right? But such a high fever and that chest pain. That worried me. Jake had a really bad case of the flu once that took him out for weeks, I remembered that. Sam had too. Was it a Kiszka thing? It was weird, I thought as I shifted in bed, trying to adjust without jostling Josh too much, when it seemed like all of them would have super robust immune systems. I could remember the time Danny had strep and Sam caught it, of course, and Sam’s experience seemed a lot worse than his counterpart had. I tried not to worry. I tried to just close my eyes and match my breathing to Josh’s, to remember that it would be a new day soon enough.

But in the morning, all of that worry returned tenfold. Josh looked pale, his cough had become worse and he was shivering from the moment we got up. The first thing I did was grab the thermometer and stick it under his tongue again.

“Alright, let’s go,” I said, hopping into action as soon as I saw the little red line hit 104. “Hospital time.”

Josh huffed raggedly and stayed frozen on the edge of the bed. “Do we have to?”

“Please, Josh?” I asked while I fluttered about the bedroom to gather necessities–his phone and wallet, our chargers, a clean pair of socks. Who knew how long we were going to wait there for, so I grabbed a tote bag from the closet and started piling other things into it–books, earbuds, Josh’s notebook and pens. 

“You’re really worried,” he noted while I buzzed about him, and that made me stop to really feel that worry sink into my gut. 

“Yeah, I am. This isn’t getting better,” I told him, turning away to return to the closet. “And I need you to be okay.” I at least needed to get dressed before we left, then I needed to email work. I could do that from the hospital though, I concluded, and rifled through hangers to find my favorite hoodie. 

“I’m okay, darling,” Josh said, coming up to my side and rubbing my back. “Will you feel better if I finish that Gatorade?”

“Yes,” I said with a chuckle. 

He lifted an arm and sniffed himself. “I smell ripe. Can I shower before we go?” 

“Okay. But I’m gonna sit in there with you in case you need help,” I said, expecting to get push-back, but Josh smirked, looking pleased. 

In the bathroom, I sat on the closed toilet, bouncing my leg with unyielding nervous energy. While Josh sudsed himself up, I texted the boys to let them know what was happening and their responses only fueled my fears, not in the sense that I was actually expecting the worst–because that would never happen–but in the sense of it had become something to actually share. Something to make everyone else aware of.

Not even Josh announcing, “I feel better already!” as the hot water pounded over him could shake my concerns. Everyone felt better in the shower while sick, but it might only last so long, and when he came out, he still looked pale beneath the flush from the heat. 

“We’re still gonna go,” I told him as I shimmied the towel around his body, speeding up the process of him drying off. “I’m not trying to be like, insane or bitchy about this or whatever but–” 

Josh quickly lifted one arm to cough loudly, his whole body moving with a long shake. “I know. You’re not being anything about this, love. I’d do the same if it were you.” He sniffed, sighed. “Except I’d probably carry you there. You can’t carry me there.”

“Thank God for cars,” I said, and once Josh was dressed and we were packed up, we got in my own vehicle and headed toward the hospital.

I’d never spent much time in hospitals. Josh, however, had–from broken bones to ruptured eardrums, accidental lacerations and bad sprains, he, Jake and Sam had been inside the walls of our hometown hospital far more than I ever had. The sharp smell of ammonia and artificial lemon made me crinkle my nose as soon as we got inside, and the too-bright white lights that bounced off the white walls made me want to turn right around. Thankfully, no matter how much he resented the fact that we had to be there at all, Josh followed my every move. We checked in and sat down, him wrapped up in multiple layers of clothing beneath a hand-me-down jacket from Danny. I felt too hot in my own layers, the overwhelming heat emanating from the whole hospital mixing with my nerves and superseding the beginnings of a dreary November snowfall outside. 

My phone vibrated and a text from Jake read: Keep us posted. If he gets admitted we’re gonna head up there

I will, I texted back. We’re still in the waiting room now

“Who’s that?” Josh asked, resting his head on my shoulder.

“Your twin. Jake says they’re gonna drive up if you have to stay overnight,” I told him, still helplessly bouncing my leg, to which Josh rested one hand on my knee.

“I doubt it, darling. What could they even do for this?”

“I don’t know. I wish I was a doctor,” I said, locking my phone and tucking it away. “Then I could figure it out and fix you myself.”

“You’ll be my sexy nurse.”

I laughed. “Okay, yeah, I can do that. I was trying to be that back home. Well, I guess I wasn’t that sexy.”

Josh snickered. “Lies.”

Snow was falling harder by the time we were ushered into another room to wait further, but finally an actual doctor showed up. I sat back in the stiff chair and watched as Josh was examined, with the doctor taking longer than what I figured was normal while he checked his breathing. I could see Josh struggling to take deep breaths, and when he took the final one dictated by the doctor, he let out another harsh, dry cough. 

“Any pain?” the doctor asked, moving the stethoscope to a different spot on Josh’s back.

“A little,” Josh said. “In my chest.”

The doctor pulled the stethoscope away. “Let’s do some x-rays. Your lungs don’t sound how I want them to. Do you smoke?”

“Not often,” Josh answered, looking crestfallen. “You really need to do x-rays?”

“It’ll just be a few minutes,” the doctor assured him, then looked at me. “Would you like to wait here or come with us?”

With the worry rising, I felt as though I couldn’t even move besides the nervous fidgeting, and I got the sense the doctor wanted me to wait anyway. “I’ll stay,” I told them, looking at Josh. “I’ll text Jake again and bring him up to speed.”

And I did just that while Josh got his x-rays, feeling dread pour into my mind. X-rays were serious, right? I’d never had one. Jake tried to reassure me via text but also reaffirmed that he, Sam and Danny were still prepared to drive into town if this became an overnight visit. 

Unfortunately, it became just that. When the doctor and Josh returned and the word “pneumonia” became thrown around, I felt my heart sink. With Josh’s heart rate being too low, the high fever and the fluid in his lungs, they wanted to admit him, and although I was given further reassurance by being told that he was young and healthy and would be fine, the fact that Josh had to be stuck in the hospital at all made me feel helpless and confused. 

“This is silly,” Josh said while an actual nurse got him situated with an IV. He looked small and delicate in that hospital bed, watching her actions closely.

“We gotta make sure you’re getting your fluids,” she told him, her voice tired but kind. “And we’re getting you started on those antibiotics too, alright?”

As soon as the nurse was gone, I felt a sob getting caught in my throat. I knew Josh would be okay but there was still a part of me that was so frightened at the alternative. He sat up and looked at me, frowning with concern: “Sweetheart, what is it?” I shook my head, trying not to cry because it was pointless, but Josh was having none of that. “Come here, love.” 

So I went over to him, sitting down on the scant space of bed, and he wrapped his arm around me. “It’s hard to see you like this,” I confessed, and the tears started to come. I closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder, bringing one hand to my face. “I don’t know, Starshine. I know you’ll be okay.”

“In sickness and in health,” Josh said, sounding more serious than humorous. “It’s got me thinking too, about how much more of this we might have to deal with as we get older. But I am going to be fine. It’s just a bit of bad luck and a shitty immune system.”

“I know,” I said through more tears, but they were already easing up. I wiped my eyes and sighed, burrowing into him. Josh always seemed so vital, so alive, to the point I realized I sort of viewed him as almost invincible. Almost immortal, in a way. “It fucking sucks.” Some “what ifs” were still circling through my brain but I wouldn’t voice them. That was actually pointless. 

Having relayed the final news to the boys, they showed up a couple hours later. Jake stayed right next to Josh on the other side of the bed while Sam milled about the room and Danny pulled the chair up to be close. It was funny, I thought, how much more alive Josh already seemed to be thanks to the attention and affection. Probably also the rush of fluids and maybe the start of those antibiotics, too. It was suddenly almost like nothing was wrong–the boys brought us both up to speed on their writing and rehearsing, a leak in their basement and then some exciting progress on what was going on between Jake and Jane. That perked both Josh and me up, at least–something worth celebrating.

We were told by another nurse, though the words didn’t exactly match her facial expression, that we could essentially stay as long as we wanted. Josh was insistent, however, after an entire day of none of us really eating and nighttime in full swing, that we all should head home. The boy’s parents were headed over to the hospital anyway, so at least he wouldn’t be alone the entire evening. I think we were all still reluctant to leave but I made sure Josh had all of his supplies, kissed him on the forehead and then headed out, feeling strange and forlorn, to go back to our apartment.

The snow had stopped falling by the time I was on the road–another thing to be grateful for–and although I was only home in the empty apartment for a short time while the boys grabbed us all dinner, I hated how cold and sad it felt without Josh. Or really, with knowing where he was instead of being home with me. 

“Thank god,” I said when the buzzer sounded. The sight of the boys piling through the door made me feel so much better, as did not eating alone. I hadn’t realized how hungry I’d become until the food was in front of me and it appeared to be the same for them–we ate like we hadn’t done so in days. It was good to know I wasn’t alone in my worries, no matter how baseless they may have essentially been.

“He’ll be okay,” Danny told me. We were all grouped in the living room, Danny next to me on the couch, Jake next to him and Sam on the floor in front of us. 

“I know,” I said, the small phrase sounding like a mantra. “I’m still scared.” I looked to Jake for reassurance of that feeling and, silently, he gave it to me. That twin connection was eternal and stronger than I’d ever be able to understand. 

We all ended up sleeping in the living room, too. I took the couch and the boys took the floor in the sleeping bags Josh and I had smartly kept a third to hoard, and though the company was of great comfort, I still couldn’t fall asleep. I kept thinking of Josh in that stiff white hospital bed; maybe Jake was thinking of the same thing, because he and I were still rolling around while Sam and Danny were out cold. 

“I just keep thinking about death now,” I told Jake in a whisper through the dark as I made another shift onto my side, looking out onto the floor. I could see his silhouette tucked into the sleeping bag, him propping his head up in his hand. 

“That’s way more morbid than what’s happening right now,” he replied, though there was still a tinge of sympathy in his soft voice. “Josh isn’t gonna die. But yeah, it’s scary. I hear you. I’m way more used to us being sick or injured together, honestly.” 

I sighed, bringing the blanket further up my chest. “I don’t wanna grow up.”

Jake chuckled. “Me either.”

After a moment I asked, “You really think he’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, I do.” Jake shuffled a bit more and I could hear more than see that he was directly facing me. “You said it’s just been a few days, right? It’s bound to get better.”

“Yeah. The doctors know, I’m sure.” We both stayed quiet for a minute before I said, “I’ve just never seen him like that. So exhausted and weak. And when that doctor said his pulse or his heart rate or whatever was too low? I mean, that’s scary.”

“If you weren’t here, Josh would’ve never gone to the ER,” Jake said. “Who knows how much worse it would’ve gotten then. But they said he’s probably gonna come home tomorrow. We’ll stick around if you want help.”

“I don’t want you guys getting sick, too. I’m probably gonna get sick next.”

“All the more reason for us to stay and help.” Jake sighed. “I miss being super close all the time anyway.”

I smiled a little to myself. “You do?”

“Yeah, of course,” Jake said and I could hear the smile in his own words. “Sometimes I feel like I’m babysitting, dude. Josh was always sort of our leader. Yeah, it was different when we started the band and he started school but still. He was always there.”

I rolled onto my back. “Sometimes I wonder if he regrets not joining you guys. We’ve talked a lot about it and I know he’s happy where he is now but–I don’t know. I could see it, him being part of the band. But I’m glad he went to college instead. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met him.” I stretched, feeling better, feeling myself edge a little closer to real tiredness. “My life would’ve turned out so boring without him. And all you guys.”

“You take good care of him. He needs that.”

I laughed softly. “He’s good at taking care of himself, too. And of me.” 

Jake yawned and I heard him settle back down in the sleeping back. “We’ll go back first thing in the morning. I bet he’s already dying to come home.”

---

Tagging: @jjwasneverhere @bizzielisteningtogreta @clairesjointshurt @lightsofthe-living-gvf @starbuggie @sparrowofrhiannon

If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can go here or DM me :)

[adamwatchesmovies]

Cujo (1983)

Cujo is a fine adaptation of the Stephen King novel of the same name. It’s a good “animals attack” movie thanks to the time spent developing the characters and the effort made to create a realistic - and relateable - scenario. Despite this, I don't see this as the kind of film you'll be drawn to watch over and over. That’s ok. While watching, you’ll enjoy it.

When Vic (Daniel Hugh-Kelly) goes out of town for work reasons, his wife Donna (Dee Wallace) takes their car to be repaired by mechanic Joe Camber (Ed Lauter). Upon arrival, she and her son Tad (Danny Pintauro) realize he isn’t home. The car breaks down, leaving the family stranded, trapped inside their vehicle and with no escape thanks to Cujo, a formerly friendly St. Bernard now infected with rabies.

The film’s most memorable element is the titular dog, who looks increasingly menacing as the plot goes on. Its fur is matted with blood and mud, its face dripping with infection. The canine’s sheer size makes it a threat but it isn’t really the dog that makes this nightmare scenario scary, it’s all the little things compounded. The family’s car has broken down in the middle of nowhere. The heat is unbearable and hope for salvation is just out of reach. If only Donna could make it to the Camber's phone through their broken window, she could call for help. It’s just a matter of time before the opportunity presents itself but meanwhile, her young son is hysterical. They’re both without food and dehydrated. Every passing minute decreases the chance of a happy ending but there’s no room for error so they’ve got to take their time. It’s a great big time clock that cranks up the tension.

Aside from a scene towards the end where director Lewis Teague indulges in a couple of horror-film cliches, this doesn’t really feel like a horror film at all. It’s a drama featuring ordinary, likeable people going on about their regular lives. The fears are real-world fears. Donna worries she will get bored with her marriage. A crisis at work drives a wedge between her and her husband. Not helping is how... close she's gotten to her high school sweetheart Steve (Christopher Stone). There's a story already happening and it gets interrupted by this crisis. The whole time Tad and Donna are in the car, you’re wondering what you would do, which of their mistake you would avoid. You don’t think of them as characters in the film. They're real-life human beings thanks to the excellent performances by the child actor and the boy playing his mother.

Cujo builds slowly but steadily and delivers the terror and intensity you want during its climax. Bolstered by strong performances and good cinematography, it’s a scary film that isn’t so intense that it will cause you to wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night… unless you already have a phobia of dogs. (On Blu-ray, March 14, 2019)

[danielfuckingricciardo]

Not Safe For Work - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader 

Prompt 89. “YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!”

Pairing - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Word count - 1430

Content Warnings - Swearing, sexual innuendo, sexual references, bad puns

Synopsis - Your boyfriend Daniel Ricciardo sends you some messages while you’re in a work meeting, which particularly annoys the presenter. She insists you open them, but little does she know of the NSFW content contained within them.

Author’s Note - My first fic for this blog! I used a random number generator to choose which prompt I should do and boy did it choose a good one to start with as I really love writing these kind of comedy fics! Hope you enjoy!

You take a quick glance at the clock on the wall and sigh internally. You’d been in the same meeting for an hour, some health and safety nonsense that could have easily been an email or a pamphlet or something, rather than the waste of time lecture you were currently stuck in. Blinking to refocus your eyes which had fully given up on even paying attention, you notice your coworker sat opposite you was dozing off, only his hand stopping his head from hitting the desk. You lean back in your chair, now very much focused on the events unfolding in front of you, preparing for shit to very much hit the fan when the inevitable happens.

Unfortunately, your coworker is awoken by the buzz of your phone which sits face down before you on the desk. Your eyes widen, you thought you’d put it on silent, shit, fuck, shit. You hurriedly reach for your phone to fiddle frantically with the button as everyone in the room turns to stare at you, including the incredibly dull HR woman giving the presentation. “Just a reminder, phones should be off or on silent during work meetings, thank you” The smug HR woman says, obviously directed at you. The sarcastic sweetness in her tone made you roll your eyes at the guy opposite, who was now fully conscious and pretending to be listening once again. He offers you a small nod in solidarity, but is then interrupted by a yawn which he unsuccessfully tries to suppress.

You lean back in your chair, folding your arms and crossing your legs tightly. You try and focus on the slides and the woman’s dull, monotone voice droning on about something to do with the damn water dispenser, when your phone buzzes again. ‘Shit, I thought I’d turned it off!’ You thought, grabbing your phone off the desk, ready to turn the thing off if necessary to avoid another sarcastic comment from the boring presenter. “Are we keeping you from something?” The woman says, leaning so that she is directly in your line of sight. “No, no, sorry” You respond, choking back your desire to cuss the bitch out over her sarcastic tone. “Go ahead, check your phone, it’s probably something really important if they’re texting during your work hours, especially during a health and safety training session which is very important to foster a healthy working environment.” She says, voice practically dripping with sarcastic spider venom. “It’s fine, probably spam.” You say, sinking down in your seat. “I insist you check, we’re all waiting.” She says, offering a sickly shit-eating grin. It’s at this point you realise everyone in the room is staring at you and you’d be quite happy if the swivel chair you were sat on turned into a killer bear and immediately swallowed you whole. You gulp and unlock your phone.

Three notifications - Three texts - from Daniel. ‘What the fuck does he want?’ You think. Your eyes dart around the room. This was the most interesting thing to happen in the last two hours, so naturally everyone was looking on in anticipation as if you were about to perform a lost Shakespeare play. “It’s just some texts,” You say, “from my boyfriend,” you add. “Open them” She says, that same shit-eating grin plastered across her face. You gulp, before opening the messages.

Danny <3 You like what you see? 12:58pm

Danny <3 Attachment: 1 image 12:58pm

You didn’t mean to, but your finger slips, and before you could do anything to stop it, the picture loads. In high definition, on your giant smartphone screen, in front of everyone, is a picture of your boyfriend’s cock. That would be bad enough normally, however, your boyfriend just so happens to be Daniel Ricciardo, the very successful Australian racing driver. And the entire office pretty much just saw everything he has going on down under.

You claw at your screen desperately, trying to get the picture off the screen in such a panic you forget how to work your damn phone. Eventually you manage to lock the stupid thing, and you stuff it in your jacket pocket. You look up, and everyone is staring at you still, each person with a different expression on their face. Some shock, some horror, and some seemingly rather impressed. Your colleague across the table quickly flashes an ‘okay’ sign at you as he struggles to hold back his laughter. The HR woman, however, was not impressed.

“In future can we not go around flashing pictures of people’s nether regions in the workplace, please (y/n)” She says with a scalding tone. It feels almost as if you’re a naughty schoolchild being told off by the teacher. “I apologise if anyone saw a certain not safe for work image, pardon the pun, on my phone, but this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t forced me to open the messages.” You say, trying to hold back your laughter, both at the absurdity of the situation and your accidental pun. Your coworker collapses into full on hysterical laughter which earns him a stern look from the woman. “Perhaps it would be better if you returned to your office. I’ll send someone to talk to you about this incident later.” She says, maintaining her sickly sweet smile. ‘Oh shit, maybe I shouldn’t have talked back?’ You thought, grabbing your things and heading for the door like a kid who’s been sent out of the classroom.

You arrive back in your office and collapse into fits of laughter. You’re not sure if its the anxiety or the ridiculousness of what just happened that’s making you laugh so, or maybe it’s a combination of the two. Either way, you knew what you had to do. You had to call Daniel.

You unlock your phone, and are immediately greeted by the image of your boyfriend’s cock. You smirk to yourself, it’s a good picture of an even better cock. One that’s all yours, even if half the office have seen it. You shake your head and dial the phone. He answers immediately. “You like my picture?” He says, before you have the chance to speak. He hears you giggle and you can practically hear his confusion through the phone, “is there something weird about the picture? Do I need to see a specialist?” “No, no, it’s a lovely cock, promise babe,” you laugh, exhaling loudly in preparation of the amazing story you were about to tell him. “Then what’s so funny?” He asks. “You do know how to pick your moments, you know that don’t ya?” You say. “Why?” He says nervously. “Well, I was in some fucking boring health and safety meeting at work when you sent them. And my phone wasn’t on silent, and it really pissed off the salty old bag doing the presentation.” “So…” “She made me open the messages, in front of everyone, and everyone was looking at me. So, essentially, half of my department have seen your cock and balls mate.” You say, before erupting into laughter. “They saw my nudes?” Daniel asks. “Yeah, they saw the whole thing.” “Were they impressed?” “Trust you to ask that bloody question!” You exclaim, “but for the record, James seemed impressed, and while a lot of people looked horrified, I think most of them were just self conscious, or jealous of me.” “So, what happened in the aftermath?” He asks, laughing to himself. “I just got kicked out of the meeting like a naughty schoolchild, and I might get the sack. Worth it though just to cause a bit of chaos and to see your glorious package.” “Why don’t you leave?” Daniel asks, a certain naughty tone appearing in his voice. “What, leave work? Then I’ll definitely get the sack you idiot.” “Ah fuck ‘em, it’s a stupid job anyway. Come home.” He pauses, before lowering his voice, becoming more gruff and sexy, “you know, it looks great in the picture, but it’s even better in 3D.” “Ah, fuck it, you’re right. There’ll be other jobs. Ones that don’t make you show your boyfriend’s knob in work meetings. I’ll be home in half an hour, pop that bottle of champagne. Screw 3D I want the full 4D experience.” “Very naughty,” he laughs, “I’ll be ready and waiting.”

[yetanothergreyjedi]

What We Might've Been: Part 3

Part 1 Part 1.5 Part 2

Part 4

Inspired by @liminalhollow 's spork AU

For @dargeon-lissa @dp-marvel94 @aethtalon

Also if you like this story, you might like Warped Mirror by @ectoentity

(Comments and questions are appreciated)

...

The next conversation was painful. Not literally, but that was only because they hadn't let Mr. Uses-the-word-'ghost'-as-an-insult get his hands on anything that could cause pain. (Tucker was trying to think of a time when Danny would've said something like that. It would've had to have been pretty early after he got his powers, but there really wasn't a big window between 'Oh, ghosts are real' and "I'm a ghost?' so Tucker didn't think there was any point when he would've. It wasn't even that creative.) Actually, that wasn't the only thing that didn't quite line up about this guy. Like the hazmat suit, it was like his before the accident only... armored? Slightly? It was different and something Tucker would've absolutely remembered. Then there was fact that he hadn't seen him use any ghost powers... Yeah, they were going to bring all this up when they got to Clockwork.

Anyway, the conversation when about as well as could be expected when the person with most of the information didn't want to talk, thought one of you was a ghost that had stolen his life, and became more mistrustful when they tried to defend him. Honestly, whatever ghosthunter had decided to publish the 'Ghosts are highly manipulative' line, Tucker hoped they became a ghost when they died.

But, yeah, words had gotten them nowhere, didn't seem to be getting any closer to anywhere, so Sam knocked the guy out. They'd dragged him into the Specter Speeder, and were now on the way to Long Now. Hopefully he wouldn't wake up until they got there.

Right.

Maybe he should just give up the word 'hopefully' because 'hopefully I can relax this weekend' had turned into time travel shenanigans and now the guy was already shifting back there. (shifting as in movement, not shifting as in dying/going ghost, Tucker smiled at his little joke. He'd have to figure out how to use that later.)

"Guys, I don't want to freak him out again." Danny whispered as he faded out of visibility, like that was going to do anything? Well, maybe jumpsuit guy would just assume they had the air conditioning up to high and the other off-putting vibes were just the ghost zone... yeah, guy was gonna freak out no matter what. At least Tucker was driving, then if he got violent Sam could knock him out again.

Jumpsuit guy... No. Dan. Time-traveled other Danny's get called Dan, for efficiency. Dan made some waking up sounds and after a minute asked "Where am I?"

Great, he's still freaked out... that's fair, they did kidnap him, but like its just so inconvenient.

"In the specter speeder." Sam answered.

"The what?"

"The specter speeder, did your parents not build that yet?"

"Uh... no? What is it...?"

"A... Vehicle"

"Sam, don't bother dancing around the point, all he has to do is look out the window."

"Tucker! I was trying to break that slowly!"

Tucker could tell that Dan had looked out the window by the frantic founds of seatbelt unbuckling. Yeah, that probably wasn't his brightest move. "Sorry..."

"What is wrong with you guys?! Don't you know how dangerous-"

"We're in here at least once a month will you calm down!"

I'm-to-flustered-to-make-words-work sounds, (that sounded a little like ghost speak which was oddly comforting if Tucker was being honest...) "That's not- Safe!"

(Oh! It was similar to Danny's acting-on-my-obsession noises, just without the static and overlaid creepy. Right! Past-Danny...) Tucker cut off whatever Sam was saying, "We did lots of tests before we came in here originally and we know how to be safe in here."

"But the Ghosts!"

"Typically mind their own business unless you do something."

"but in Amity-"

"Amity is like a magnet for the ones who want to cause trouble. And I don't think we should be explaining everything because of the timeline." There was a pause, good, he was using his brain.

"Wait, you guys actually think this is time travel?"

"Yeah, what do you think it is?"

"The clock ghost is helping the other one pretend to be me, for some reason... I don't know what they're planning, but-"

"Danny, stop." Sam's voice was clear and gentle reason. "Some of the things you have said today, I know you never would've said, even when this all started. Some of this still doesn't add up, but the idea that you went on some sort of time adventure makes some sort of sense with how you are now and the Danny I remember. Just trust us, okay? Even if you don't trust your other self?"

"Ok..."

"I'm gonna turn visible now,"

"He's been here the whole time!?!?!"

[angelic-ish-phantom]

Danny has been having the same dream every full moon since he was five.

He doesn’t know why it’s so specific in its timing, but it’s one of those things that he doesn’t really want to think about too hard.

It’s not an unpleasant dream. It’s warm, like a cherished memory. It’s a little to strange in places to truly be a memory, but Danny knows it so vividly he thinks of it as one.

It’s always the same.

There is a man sitting in the grass, wearing the most purple cloak Danny has ever seen anyone wear. But then Danny hasn’t ever seen anyone wear a cloak that wasn’t on tv.

He walks over to the man.

He knows he’s not supposed to talk to strangers, but this man looks cool, and Danny wants to talk to him. If he asks his name, they won’t be strangers anymore.

“Hello.” Danny says walking into the man’s space, coming closer until he’s right next to him.

The man turns looking perle- purplex- a tiny bit confused. He tilts his head and Danny notices sees he’s smiling. It’s a small, thin smile, like it was drawn on in marker.

Danny doesn’t think about that very hard, because he almost immediately notices the man is blue.

People can’t be blue can they? Danny doesn’t think so. It’s probably face paint. Maybe he’s a clown? Would it be rude to ask if he’s a weird clown? What if it’s a mask and this guy is an actor. Actors wore all sorts of things.

He’s so busy contemplating over clowns and actors he almost doesn’t hear the man speak.

“You aren’t supposed to be here.” The man says, which Danny thinks is ridiculous and says just as much.

“Everyone is allowed in the park. And my sister said I could.” Danny argues.

The man hums, staring at him. His eyes are red. This guy looks so cool. “I suppose you do then.” He says simply back to Danny after a while. Danny feels like he’s impressed by something.

Suddenly, A dog rushes into the brush and it’s huge and brown and angry looking. All at once, it stops running and looks towards the man.

“Back the way you came little one, we all have places to be.” The man says and Danny’s pretty sure he’s talking to the dog.

It stares for a second, before trotting back in the direction it came, calm. That was neat. The man must be one of those people that whisper to dogs. Only that guy didn’t whisper at all so maybe he’s something else…

The brush is silent again until Danny asks, “Are you a magician?”

He chuckles quietly, “Of sorts.” The stranger says mysteriously. Danny remembers he still doesn’t know his name.

“What’s your name?” Danny asks simply.

“It’s rude to ask for someone’s name before you’ve given your own, child.”

Danny pouts, because that is a stupid rule he didn’t know about. He opens his mouth to give his name but…

He does not think that he should give this man his name.

“I’m Daniel.” He says anyway, because that is what his teachers call him; his name is Danny.

The man pats him on the head as though he’s congratulating Danny for something. “Very well then Daniel, you may call me Ananke.”

Danny feels kind of guilty about telling Anana- Anka- the cool man the long name he doesn’t like. But he’s happy they’re sort of not strangers anymore.

“It’s very nice to meet you.” Danny adds, because he knows all the manners and is in fact not rude at all.

The man rises from the grass, “You are quite the polite child aren’t you.” He says as he begins to walk. He has the sharpest teeth Danny’s ever seen.

Danny beams and nods, making to follow the man, but stops. He hadn’t noticed it before, but there is a ring of (glowing?) mushrooms on the ground.

It doesn’t feel like he’s allowed to leave.

But then the Anananaka man calls him over with a short, “Come along.” And it’s like a weight is lifted.

They walk in a happy silence for a few minutes before the man speaks again. “Perhaps, young one,” he starts, “The next time we meet, I’ll give you a truer name.”

That’s a good idea! Then Danny can tell him his name too. “Me too.” Danny answers, entirely forgetting the man shouldn’t know he half-lied about his name.

Danny scowls a bit. The man looks all colorful and cool now, but what if he looks boring later? How will Danny know it’s him?

“What if I can’t remember your name?” Danny asks shyly, not wanting to upset this man, his friend?

He stops and crouches down. “You will.” Is all he says before kissing Danny on the forehead.

Danny blinks. It feels like ticking clocks and rising suns. It’s warm.

The man holds out his hand to Danny and it feels like a bit like goodbye, but more like a promise. Danny grabs the too-large gloves with both hands and shakes.

“Okay.” Danny says and he too is sure he will.

And Danny does remember. He hears the name spoken over and over in his repeating dream.

He remembers the ring of mushrooms as he looks into the mouth of his parents portal and can’t help but notice how similar they look.

It doesn’t quite make sense, but it feels just as inescapable, just as bright with foreign energy.

And as Danny hesitates, he thinks he can hear ticking.

The portal feels like a cashed in favor, like inevitability.

It feels like it’s calling Danny in to dance forever.

[britcision]

Okay we’re gonna roll back the clock real quick for how this band misunderstanding occurs because I am Having A Vision

Starfire causes a karaoke night after a particularly rough mission

Jason secretly has a fucking killer voice that only Alfred knows about because yes he does play himself theme music inside that hood and sing along under his breath while beating guys to shit

Jason (or Roy) shows Danny the karaoke video as a joke one day and Danny goes “oh cool is that with your bandmates?” Because he’s overheard about the Outlaws a couple times when Jason’s hurriedly asked him to empty his fridge cuz he’s got an emergency mission

(Danny loves emptying Jason’s fridge Jason has Actual Real Food and Good Leftovers this is totally worth being key buddies

Danny also hears Jason singing in the shower and calling missions a “gig” precisely once and came to his own conclusions)

Jason, startled, asks what Danny means “his band” and Danny just gives him a knowing look

It’s cool if Jason doesn’t want everyone to know but they’re key buddies, Danny will keep his secrets, and it’s actually a great excuse for Jason’s weird hours so Jason buys in

And Danny? Well, Danny doesn’t sing, but Ember did teach him guitar

Jason mentions to Roy that his neighbour thinks they’re a band just to chat, as ya do

Roy was raised by Oliver Queen, he’s had a good fucking time on a drum kit before

Starfire has a full on alien instrument because it’d be double cool for a punk band to literally have an instrument not of this earth, and is actually frighteningly good at full on death metal screaming

(This is ABSOLUTELY used to prank all the former Teen Titans you know it is the second the boys find out)

Roy, accordingly, makes them play Rockband after their mission, Starfire loves it even if the “guitars” aren’t as good as her own instrument, Jason appreciates the bit

And it gives him a chance to shoot a lil video of “the band” for Neighbour Danny

Danny then starts begging to go to a gig

Jason, luckily, has the excuse that the Outlaws are very rarely working in Gotham. Sorry Danny, would love for you to come, but Kori and Roy both live across country and fly Jason out to them for gigs. Big sorry

Danny insists he could come and roadie, and manages to meet Roy when he comes to get Jason for one day

(Headcanon that Roy hunts Jason for sport when neither of them have anything better to do, I’ll explain later)

Danny begs to see the band play, or at least one of their own original pieces on recording

Roy, loving Jason’s discomfort, promises to try and dig something up

Jason’s a fucking nerd you KNOW he has written some of his own songs and you KNOW he has a hard time refusing Kori when she asks him sweetly to show her

There is ONE video in the world of Robin!Jason singing a song he wrote

Jason very nearly murders Roy

Danny gets the video

Roy asks Danny if he wants to join the band for karaoke when they bring Jason back, cuz he knows a crush when he sees it and likes bullying Jason

Danny… Danny doesn’t sing well but he does sing with enthusiasm and that’s almost as good! And promises he’s better on bass

Kori exclaims delightedly that they do not have a bassist

Danny begins planning to join the band and even makes an audition tape

This is now completely fucked as a cover and actively threatening Jason’s secret identity, especially when an innocent “hey did you call yourselves Outlaws like the movie or like the vigilante group?” Happens

Roy and Kori have no fucks to give they like Danny and they’re all pretty sure he’s a retired vigi after his comments

Danny asks if he can join the band if he gets them a gig

Jason, sure he will fail, caves

Danny gets them a gig with Ember

Jason is forced to dig out ALL his old songs and filter through those and the new ones to make a full original setlist, and chords for his three bandmates, within a month

Roy, Kori, and Jason practice rabidly because if the choice is “admit the lie” or “commit to the bit” we know what happens

Danny’s first practice with the band is ALSO the band’s first practice as a band, but luckily they all know each other real fucking well

Ember also gave them a couple months to get good before the gig to fold Danny in, SHE knows on sight they’re a very fresh group but she ain’t saying shit she sees the Tension™️

The three original Outlaws are now deathlocked in intense Bit Commitment Chicken waiting to see who blinks first

(Kori is actually for real entirely unconcerned she’s having a great time)

(Roy and Jason are too stubborn to quit)

The gig actually goes super fucking well, it’s a whole thrill, no one tells Jason or Roy that all of Young Justice have acquired tickets

Danny is ecstatic he’s in the band, Jason is 1000% fucked when the next mission comes in, Roy is just happy he’s gonna win by default when Jason has to find a new excuse

Shenanigans ensue, maybe a triumphant night on the town and DANNY saves the group from a rogue attack

Danny joins Both sides of the Outlaws

Two years later someone casually mentions that Kori is an alien and Danny Loses His Shit

DP x DC Phantom Punk: We are the Outlaws

Back on my punk Danny AU

So punk is pretty anti-authoritarian, loud, fast, and contains a lot of anger, anger at how the world is. It can also be very compassionate to the downtrodden an those the system fails

You know who else has a lot of anger and compassion?

Jason Todd

Jason Todd, the second Robin, the Red Hood. The man was born to be punk.

Danny just works as a punk. His villains range from the government to a Billionaire to a ghost cop. It makes more sense than not for his experiences to have turned him in that direction, and let's face it one Sam Mason would have helped, even if punk and goth are different

So we have one dead punk boy living in a shitty apartment in Gotham, and we have another dead punk boy moving into a shitty apartment in Gotham

They're neighbors(I'd say roommates for the meme but Jay needs the added privacy)

So now we have two punks with messed up sleep schedules living next door to each other. They clearly vibe, they hang out, go to each other's apartments and Jason practically force feeds Danny a healthy meal that has enough preservatives in it to give Ra's a run for his money

Then Jason got careless

Jason, after accidentally mentioning the outlaws multiple times during a phone call, now has to deal with the fact that Danny thinks it's the band he's in. It's fine, all he has to do is play it cool, roll with it and it'll be no big deal

being unable to shut his mouth, he actually digs himself deeper. Now, Danny doesn't just want to see them play, he wants to join, and Jason has made the mistake of saying he needs to ask the band first, only to call Roy who is a little shit and goes "Yeah he can join our band."

Cut to Jason, Starfire, and a sheepish Roy scrambling to actually be a punk band as they get sucked further and further into committing to the bit

or

Fake Band au, like a fake dating au but with more people and instruments and probably ends in polyamory

[beigehearts]

All right it is time- drabbles about the yandere adult trio and how they kidnap you

I reblogged something about this- yandere content is not really reader friendly- it is fun to read for some people but for some people it is triggering- please don’t read if it’s not suited for you: each part will have it’s own word count This is a fem!reader- if you would like me to write a different one please let me know

CW: kidnap, alcohol consumption, drugs, physical abuse, needles, language

Hisoka 1,172 words

It’s a quiet night in your small town. Here, everyone knows everyone and there are no such things as secrets. There’s the lightest of drizzles on this cloudy, chilly night. The bar is almost barren except for you and a group of your friends. Even the bar tenders are your friends. Everyone is emptying glasses and telling lame funny stories that you’ve all heard before but still enjoy listening to.

Your body is warm, alcohol running through your veins. You shrug off your jacket, and place it on the coat rack at the entrance. Before you can even turn around someone latches onto your arm. A smile greets your face when you see your friend holding your arm.

“Come on y/n! Danny and Vanessa are making jello shots!” Danny and Vanesa are the bar tenders, they brought jello packets with them knowing it would just be this group of friends here tonight. Your friend clinging to you, Ashley, drags you back to the bar as if you had been protesting, which you definitely were not. The jello shots are poorly made and are more like water with jello packet flakes in it. Though none of you seem to care, taste is not the goal here.

It’s a long night, the clock strikes 1:30 am and Vanessa waves her arm in the air, “Alright kiddos, it’s time to close shop. Get out of here- be safe!” 

All of your friends call out and thank her, and everyone puts on their coat and does as Vanessa says. The slight breeze and cold droplets sends a shiver down your spine and you hold your coat closer to you. You can barely make out the moon through the clouds, but your attention is taken by a large breeze and your friend yelps out. 

“Let’s go! I’m cold! Who’s house?” Ashley asks. Usually all of you sleepover at each other’s houses after a night of drinking, the group collectively decides on going to the closest person’s home. Tido groans when hearing this, knowing that it’ll be his house.

The group all huddles and scampers towards his house, trying to conserve warmth. A blast of hot air hits you when you step inside, and everyone sighs with relief at the warmth. 

Tido turns towards everyone and points at you all, “It’s bed time dumbasses. No more drinking, I’m tired. If a single one of you wakes me up there will be hell to pay.”

You chuckle and nod, “Just go to bed Tido, we’ll be quiet.” Tido trusts you the most out of the group so he doesn’t protest, he sends you a spiteful look and stomps away to his room. He can be such a handful. Though you managed to get your friends to quiet down and speak quietly before they passed out. 

The house is quiet. The only sounds are the quiet snores and shuffling of your friends. You’ve been laying at the couch staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours. Eventually you get up and go to the kitchen. When with your friends you find it hard to sleep, some motherly instinct coming over you and making you alert. 

You know where Tido keeps his stash, you’re the only one of your friends who knows where it is. He told you where it is for nights like these. You open the cabinet, and grab a sugar jar from the back of it. When you open it the smell assaults your senses, you grab the ziploc bag and put the jar back. Once you’re sitting outside on his back porch, you roll it nice and neatly, and you can’t help but smile at your handy work. 

It hits your drunk body quite quickly, and you move to the rocking chair and cover up with a blanket. You turn your head when you hear the back door open, and see Tido’s head pop outside. “I thought I smelled something.” He says and closes the door behind him. There’s a swing on the porch and he plops down on it, and the beckons for the joint. You hand it over and he takes a deep inhale, holding it for a while before exhaling. 

He pats the seat next to him and you sit next to him, pulling your knees up into your chest. 

The next hour or so is spent philosophizing and staring out into the woods of his backyard. Your head feels like a fishbowl, the fish being your brain. Eventually it goes quiet. Tido throws his arms back, wrapping one around your shoulders. 

“Y/n.” He points into the forest, “I can’t look at those trees anymore, they’re just staring back at me.” He huffs and looks at you, his eyes finding your lips and slowly moving up to your eyes. “I’m going to bed. You should do the same.” 

You nod and he stands up, “Just remember to lock the door before you go to sleep.” He adds. He seems somewhat awkward standing there and you can’t help but laugh, his usual confident personality façade always disappears when he’s around you. 

A cough escapes his throat and he mumbles, “Goodnight y/n, go to bed soon okay?” He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You hum and return it, these small nights you spend with him always end like this. You’re just waiting for him to actually take you out somewhere else than his back porch. 

He shuffles inside and you watch until the door closes. You aren’t quite sure about your feelings for Tido, but it’s not too concerning at the moment. You enjoy your time with him, and enjoy your kisses, that’s enough for you. 

Maybe you should go home... You can always fall asleep in your own bed. Yeah that sounds good. Usually Tido walks you home at this time of the night but he’s already gone to bed and you don’t want to disturb his beauty sleep. Even though he probably wouldn’t mind much. 

You grab all of your things and put on your coat and shoes, you take one last glance at your friends and smile. They would understand, you’ve done this before. 

It’s only colder, the breeze only blowing harder. When you check your phone it’s 4:17 am. Good thing you don’t have work or classes tomorrow. There’s no way you’ll be able to wake up until 2 pm. Even though it’s cold and breezy, it’s a nice walk, you walk into the town and look around at the shops. You’ve passed them millions of times but they always look different when you’re high. Though you’re not that high anymore. The only light illuminating the streets are the street lamps, well the ones that actually still work. You don’t bother avoiding the puddles, stepping in them and your feet become wet. It’s no longer raining but you can still smell it in the air. 

The town is always so nice when it’s quiet, it’s so serene and surreal. Your steps come to slow halt when you see someone standing on the sidewalk a few yards ahead of you. You can’t make out their face, but they’re tall, really tall. You squint and try to see if it’s someone you know. After all, everyone knows each other here. Is that... Tasha? No, Jordan? Your guessing is cut short when he begins walking towards you. 

Soon enough you come face to face, you tilt your head up and can barely make out his features in this light. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” Your voice echoes around the street. 

He’s chuckling, and it turns into a full out maniacal laugh. Once he gathers himself he wipes a tear from his eye. “Didn’t anyone teach you not to talk to strangers?” His hand lays heavily on your shoulder, “It’s not safe to be intoxicated in public you know.” He brings his head towards your neck, pressing his nose against your bare skin, “It seems my pet has been smoking too.” 

You push him away with all your strength, your slow head still processing what’s happening. He frowns and you have no time to react when a hand wraps around your neck, and pushes you against the brick wall of the store. You groan, your head pounding now and when you try to gasp in air you can’t the wind has been knocked out of you. 

His lips meet your ear and you can’t fight back, as you’re still fighting for air. “You’ve been playing around with other boys. Are you trying to make me jealous?” He breathes in you scent, and a hand grabs your hip. Finally you manage to breathe in some air but by the time you’re ready to fight back he tightens his grip on your throat, making it hard to breathe again. “Don’t you think it’s mean to mess with a man’s emotions?” 

Gasps, that’s all you can manage, you’re gasping but can’t catch your breath. Your vision begins going black, becoming fuzzy and blurry. Your eyes start to roll back in your head, but right before you lose consciousness, you fall to the ground. 

“Oh pet, what ever am I going to do with you?” 

Your throat aches and your lungs burn, you’re left on the ground in fetal position, sucking in as much air as possible. But you don’t get a break, your hand that lays against the concrete of the sidewalk take away all the pain of your lungs. His shoe digs into your hand, and he moves his foot side to side, rubbing your hand against the ground, until you see tracks of blood following your hand. You scream out but it only gets worse. He lifts his foot and before you can retract your hand, stomps on your fingers. Your screeches can be heard by no one but this man and to him they mean nothing. 

You bring your hand to your chest and cradle it, 3 of 4 fingers are broken, and most of the skin has been rubbed raw, and blood makes it hard to see your wounds. 

“See what happens when you’re not a good girl?” You don’t answer, more focused on your hand. The pain is so intense, it burns it stings it aches it’s so painful. 

A hand grabs your hair, and you yelp when he holds you up by it. His face gets close to yours and he whispers, “But it’s okay, I’ll help you.” He lets go of your hair and your head falls, slamming against the concrete. Your vision goes dark and the last thing your hear is, 

“Oh you’re so pitiful y/n.” 

Illumi 1,133 words

You’re lucky to be surrounded by friends who give you hours and hours of laughter every day. Each day with your friends is a blessing, and each moment is a miracle. Life is good, you go to work everyday, working at a local daycare in the busiest part of town. The children all love you, and some even cry when they have to leave. You spend your days reading books to kids, and giving bottles to babies. Though the diaper part of the job isn’t the best. 

It’s 6 pm, and the last girl to be picked up is sitting on your lap as you have an insightful conversation. 

“So that’s how I know,” She throws her arms into the air and giggles, “that zebras are white and black!”

Her logic may be flawed but she makes a good point, “I had no idea!” You exclaim. 

The familiar ring of the door opening sounds out and the little girl jumps from your lap and to the gate separating the children from the front desk area. She shakes the gate and yells, “Mommy!” 

A tired looking woman who you see every day gives you a weak smile and picks up her daughter from the other side of the gate. “I’ll see you tomorrow y/n.” You wave at the little girl who waves back as her mother carries her out of the building.

As much as you enjoy your job, it gets really tiring. You let out a sigh and stand up, all that’s left is to clean up and lock up. Your co worker who was spending her time cleaning a mess in the bathroom looks more than disgusted when she comes out with gloves on and a bucket. 

“Did you even know that kids can produce that much?!” You laugh at her comment and she shoots you an evil look. 

The toys are put back into bins and the plastic chairs are tucked back into the plastic table of the kid’s room. You put away bottles and lost binkys from the baby room, and lock up all the first aid stuff in a cabinet. Looks like that’s the day. Your co worker already left, you thought you might as well give her a break since she did have to clean the bathroom. 

It’s 8 pm by the time you’re turning off the lights and locking the front doors. The last mother actually picked up her daughter much earlier than usual, the town is still bustling. Why not do a little window shopping? 

You walk around the streets, looking at clothing and other things, occasionally going in and touching things. Now that you think about it though, you have been wanting to get a dress. Your birthday is coming up and your friends are taking you somewhere nice, they won’t tell you where.

There’s a nice shop only a block away that has really cute dresses that aren’t too expensive. You step inside and look around. They have summer dresses, daily dresses, prom dresses, and formal dresses. If you had to guess, getting a formal but cute dress is probably what your friends expect. Eventually you find the dress you want, a black open back dress that hangs loosely at your waist and stops a little above your knees. You pay for the dress, owing a grand total of $68, cheap for a dress in this town. 

Eventually you make your way home, you kick off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You’re exhausted but you really should eat something before you go to bed. You grab a hot pocket, not really feeling like making a home cooked meal. Before you put it in the microwave, you turn on the tv and put on a show you’ve been watching. 

Once the hot pocket is in the microwave, you press a few buttons and listen to its mechanical whir. What a day, you lean against your fridge and close your eyes, you could fall asleep right here quite honestly. You peel your eyes open when you hear your tv turn off. 

Huh? You look around your unlit apartment and don’t see anything, maybe it just glitched out. You couldn’t really care less at the mom-

Something whizzes past your face, and strikes your microwave. The microwave turns off and quickly you jump up from your leaning position and look at it. There’s a needle lodged in the door of the microwave. You turn around and go wide eyed when you see someone standing in your living room. 

“Ah, I missed.” He says in a nonchalant tone. You look around for a weapon, going to reach for a knife but stop when a hand grabs your wrist. “Don’t bother y/n. It’s futile.” How did he move so quickly, how did he get around the counter so quickly?!

“What do you want? You can take my wallet, take what you want.” You try to keep a cool tone but your voice still shakes and cracks. 

His grip tightens on your wrist and you wince. “You can make this easier for yourself and just give up.” 

You shake your head and try to kick him, but he grabs your knee and pushes you against the counter. He’s holding one of your legs to your chest and using the other to hold your wrist. “Will you go willingly or not?” 

You struggle against his grip and with your free hand try to look around to grab something on the counter behind you. “What do you want?!” You yell out. 

You find a glass and swing your arm to break it against his head but he drops your knee and grabs your forearm so tightly that you screech and drop the glass, it shattering on the floor.

“If I tell you will you calm down?” He presses his body against yours, holding both of your wrists so you can’t attack him. “You are the perfect subject to be my wife and future mother of my kids.” 

Tears stream down your face and you shake your head violently, “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m not going to be your wife!” 

He sighs and tilts his head backwards some. You notice just how long his hair is when he does so. 

“I tried to make this easier for you y/n.” He moves both of your wrists to one hand and uses his other hand to grab something from his jacket. He pulls a needle out of his shoulder and sobs begin to rack your body. Who is he? Why is he doing this? What the hell is going on? 

He puts the point of the needle against your forehead and you begin to feel woozy, “You’ll learn in time.” Are the last words you hear before everything goes black.

Chrollo 945 words

After your upsetting break up with your ex a few months ago, your friends decided they had enough of your complaining and signed you up for online dating. You’ve talked to so many people on these apps and yet all of them just don’t do it for you. 

But you began talking to one man and it just clicked. He was so kind and respectful and knew when to say what. The both of you had many text conversations, and he finally asked you out on a date. You are going to meet at a very nice restaurant on the outskirts of town. All of your friends were ecstatic to hear that you would finally go on another date.

They really don’t want you to fuck it up, so a few of your friends came over to help you get ready. It was like clockwork, the put you in one outfit and then rip it off to put on another one. The process is more exhausting than the date will be. Eventually the three of you decide on an outfit. Skin tight pleather pants and a frilly blouse that looks Victorian almost, and some nice short boots with a big heel. After the hour of finding the right outfit, they sit you down on your bed and do your makeup. Quite honestly they did a good job- but you wouldn’t admit it to their egotistical asses. 

“You’re gorgeous!” Rose says. You roll your eyes and give yourself one last look in the mirror, admiring yourself for a moment. Shannon hugs you from behind and giggles, “Our girl is finally dating again!” You have to pry her off of you just so you can get out of your room, knowing you’ll be late if you stick around with these two. 

As you get in the car Shannon and Rose wave at you from the front door and Rose yells, “Our girl is growing up!” Shannon follows up with, “Don’t fuck it up y/n!” How very helpful

The taxi driver confirms your destination and then you’re off. You look through your most recent texts one more time, just because.

Him 9 PM at the Cavern on the south side of town

Me Alright! See you soon 

Him I can’t wait

After the twenty minute drive, you step out of the taxi and stretch your arms in the air. You look down at your phone and see that you’re two minutes late. Oh no, late on your first date? That definitely doesn’t give off a good impression. You rush inside and give the name of your date to the woman at the front and she leads you to a table in the back. 

He stands up from his seat, and he’s much more handsome than you were expecting. His black hair is slicked back and he’s wearing a suit and tie. There’s a cloth wrapped around his forehead but you aren’t given much time to think about it when he approaches you. He kisses your cheek and then pulls out your chair. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I feel so bad. Did you wait long?” You voice and he shakes his head.

“Don’t be, I didn’t wait long.” You let out a small sigh at his words and sit down, thanking him. He pushes in your chair and returns to his own.

You smile as he pours you a glass of wine, “It’s so nice to finally meet you Chrollo.” 

“Same here. I was worried I might be catfished.” He chuckles and his eyes meet yours as he hands you a glass. He’s just so captivating, you can’t take your eyes off of him. You’re left gazing at his face when he clears his throat, “So tell me, how did you get here?”

You snap out of it and shake your head a little, “Oh, I took a taxi. I wasn’t sure if we would be drinking or not.” 

He sips his wine and you copy his action. His smile is just absolutely captivating. “I’d be lying if I said I weren’t a little anxious about tonight.”

“Oh why?” You ask. 

“You just seemed so wonderful on text that you seemed too good to be true.” He looks down at his wine, “But I guess it is true.”

Dinner is quite nice, you’re just so relaxed with him and he is fascinating. He knows so much and he could talk for hours and you would listen without saying anything. 

After the both of you finish the bottle of wine, you decide it’s time to go home. You wrap your arm around his and the both of you walk outside, and the alcohol seems to be catching up with you. Though you really didn’t drink much. 

The both of you walk to his car and talk there for a while. 

“I’m gonna call a cab. Do you mind waiting with me?” You ask him. 

He smiles sweetly, “Of course not.” You call for a cab and they tell you that they will be there in five minutes. 

The alcohol is really catching up to you. He asks you if you’re okay but your lips feel numb and you can only mutter what resembles words. Your knees start to feel weak until the buckle underneath you, and he catches you. You try to say something, move, anything, but your head is swimming and you can’t form any words. 

He shushes you, and pets your hair while holding you up. “You’re alright.” He kisses your forehead and opens up his back door, laying you gently on the seat. Before he closes the door he says,

“Come on honey, let’s go home.”