#fernefic

[fernegirl]

sally face baking headcanons ft. larry & lisa

some fluffy headcanons about sal fisher as a baker, set in the early days at addison apartments

→ Sally fucks heavily with baking. I think he'd see Lisa baking something and then it would click in his head as something tangible he can do for the other Addison Apartment residents. So he picks up tips and tricks from her, since for a period of time he practically lives in her and Larry's apartment.

→ His dad doesn't really care what they buy at the grocery store as long as it's technically food, so he barely notices when Sally begins picking out the basics: flour, baking powder, cream of tartar, etc.

→ He practices over and over, eating his fair share of burnt cookies and soggy cake. There are no cookbooks at home, but once he discovers that Gizmo doesn't mind watching cooking shows with him, he improves.

→ The first ever thing he bakes for another person is his Dad. He gets Lisa's blessing to use her kitchen and he and Larry get to work late one night under the guise of a sleepover. They print out a recipe from the internet in the school library and bring it home.

→ It makes his chest hurt, looking at the recipe for a lemon cake with vanilla frosting--the closest recipe he could find to what his mom would make every year for his dad's birthday. She called it "lovely lemon" cake. She always did like alliterations.

→ It takes then far too long. Larry mostly provides moral support, cheering him on and keeping him company as he measures and rechecks everything. Its worth it though. The resulting cake looks good, lopsided but, ultimately very cake-like, with "happy birthday dad" written in blue icing in between candles.

→ makes henry smile for the first time in months

→ after that sally begins learning all sorts of recipes to share with his neighbors. he makes a little chart of birthdays and anniversaries so that he doesn't forget anyone's special day.

→ develops a real habit of stress baking. when things aren't going well, he can usually be found blasting metal music and whipping up a batch of muffins.

[the-haiku-bot]

that multimillion

dollar mouse does not give a

fuck about us.

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

hey can everyone stop praising disney when talking about how good the representation is in the owl house??

that multimillion dollar mouse does not give a fuck about us.

instead we should be praising dana terrace and the rest of the team

this is their win, not disney's.

[fernegirl]

larry johnson + being pretty headcanons

fluffy hcs about larry's appearence (ft. the sf gang) author's note: the larry simping is real and i will not apologize >:)

→ larry doesn't have bad self esteem, it's more that it's entirely neutral. he doesn't think of himself as attractive or unattractive, just not someone that people consider. no, those are never the words that comes to mind.

→ he's aware of the impression he makes on people, with his long hair, pierced face, and looming stature. he's seen the way that people's eyes will widen before they politely shy back.

→ larry johnson is scary, seems to be the consensus.

→ he can't help the dark circles though, they're genetic on Lisa's side, and even if he could change them he wouldn't. he's happy to look like her--she's never been short of beautiful to him. It's a badge of honor to look like his mother with her warm eyes and broad smile.

→ he could cut his hair, but he's always liked it. ever since his mom let it slip that his father had long hair before going bald, he's never thought twice about it. besides, what's the point in headbanging without hair, that's half the fun anyway. same with the grungy band shirts--they're a part of him now. his armor.

→ sure, the piercings didn't help but those match with sal and ash (hell, even todd got a cartilage so they'd all have something linking them). besides, larry's never been a fan of needles. it took a fair bit of nerve to get these ones and he doubts he'll have the stomach to get them re-pierced.

→ so in short, he's got no plans to change, despite the apparent discomfort of strangers.

→ it doesn't bother him most of the time. really.

→ except for occasionally, when he makes eye contact with a girl at a bar and she looks away like she's been spooked. or when the cashier at the grocery store seems to actively avoid his gaze. or when guys step between him and their girlfriends (as if larry even noticed them in the first place).

→ so sometimes it stings. not that he'll ever say anything. he knows how minor it is in comparison to the way sal and ash are treated for their appearances, positive or otherwise.

→ he can deal with scary. he gets used to it, like a lumpy mattress.

→ really though, there are so many other qualities about himself that he never even thinks to notice

→ long eyelashes, like seriously eyelashes for days. always gets asked if he's wearing mascara (he isn't, he tried it once but he rubs his eyes too much for it)

→ does wear waterproof eyeliner sometimes, when he goes to shows or out for the night

→ is a big fan of chapstick since he often gets chapped lips. his favorite ones are ones with weird flavors, like cinnamon bun or hot cocoa

→ he's been painting his nails black for as long has he can remember, but only starts trying other colors once he becomes closer with sal and ash

→ generally wears dark colors, mostly because paint and ink shows up on them less and he hates worrying about stains. accidentally results in him looking like he has legs for daysssssss

→ assumes that people are scared of him or find him intimidating (which is sometimes the case) but it never occurs to him it could be for any other reason

→ ash and sal try to hell him that sometimes people are just...shy but it never really sinks in

→ in short, larry johnson is one pretty motherfucker and everyone but him seems to know it

[fernegirl]

"Leave me and my five teeth alone, Larry."

a sally face moodboard to inspire me to keep working on my fic.

[fernegirl]

been drawing another piece of sally face fanart and it's embarrassingly obvious how pretty i headcanon larry to be. like i know that sal is often thought of as a classic case of attractive but unaware, but we need to talk about how Larry is probably an absolute heartthrob with -1000 self esteem. He's so wrapped up in the ghost hunting and looking after his mom that it never occurs to him that maybe people stare at him in public not only bc he's a metalhead that's 6'3", but also bc he is a pretty mother fucker

[fernegirl]

never coming home | prologue.

↳ summary:

Summoning ghosts, fistfights, shredding on guitar, murders, running from the law, cheap motel rooms, and seeing beyond the veil of the afterlife: what would you do to keep those you love the most? For Sal Fisher, the answer is simple—he'll do whatever it takes, till the very end of the line.

A rewrite of Sally Face's ending beginning at ep. 4, in which some things are different and others are not. Sally and his friends face down the Devourers of God while struggling to hold onto their minds—and one another—despite the odds. This fic reimagines the story of SF while doing its best to remain true to the canon material in terms of lore, tonality, and plausibility.

↳ read it on ao3 here [x]

↳ parings: sally/ashley/larry, todd/neil · genre: canon-divergence/fix-it 

↳ warnings: 18+ ONLY, minors DNI + just as dark as canon, same triggers apply

series masterlist [tba] | next chapter [tba]

The longer she stands outside, her breath forming small clouds in front of her face and the rain creeping beneath the collar of her jacket, the more Ash reconsiders whether coming to this party was a good idea. Sure, at the time that she—well, her roommate—had been invited, it seemed fine. Now though…not so much. She knew it would be big, all of the ragers in the warehouse district are. The promise of live underground music, cheap beer, and substances that she couldn’t spell brings in all sorts of people. 

“Are you sure about this?” She asks, glancing over at Tara who is far more absorbed in her cellphone than the surroundings. 

She glances over at her and nods reassuringly, her blonde bangs bobbing with her head. “‘Course I am. Have I ever steered you wrong?” 

Ash bites back the quick response of ‘yes, absolutely’ but she knows nothing good will come of it. Tara’s sweet. Normal. A  regular girl dipping her toes into a world like this in the name of some boy she’s talking to and she’s bringing Ash along with her. Not that she really minds. The girl is trying. She’s always done her best to connect with her, despite their contrasting interests. Plus, she’d mentioned this being a ‘roomie send off’’ or something like that. A final epic excursion for the two of them before Ash finishes packing her worldly possessions and leaves campus. 

A viking funeral, college-girl-style. 

The gesture had been thoughtful enough to her Ash this far, out this late. Even though now it feels less worth it by the minute. 

“Come on. Didn’t I tell you about the rumors?” 

Tara had. “You did. This is some kind of underground show or something?”

Tara bobs her head again, reminding Ash of a chickadee, golden and fluffy. “Yep. No idea if it’s true or not, but Jared says heard that some band is friends with the guys that are hosting–they might make a special appearance or something.” 

“Any idea who it is?” 

“Sanitary Filth?” 

The name is awful. Perfect for the type of band that would play this venue. “Never heard of them.” 

“Me neither,” Tara shrugs. “Doors should open soon at least.” 

Her phone pings and she returns her attention to it, an excited smile on her face. It’s sweet and thankfully Jared seems to be a half decent guy. She’s happy for Tara, really. Or at the very least relieved that there’s something to distract her from Ash’s departure. 

Really, she’d give anything for the same. It’s not that she’s explicitly not looking forward to her return to Nockfell. She is. It’s been far, far too long since she saw her friends, her family. The familiar trees, cracked streets, and the distinct crooked shape of the Addison Apartments building. 

She misses it. She swears she does. 

Which doesn’t explain why every time she looks at her calendar, at the date next week, circled in red for her homecoming, a pit opens in her stomach. 

Not that she’s looking to self-analyze. No thank you. She’d rather do anything else. 

Which is exactly why she’s here, with Tara, in the pouring-ass rain at nearly midnight, waiting to get into what will no doubt be an underwhelming rock show. 

“This has got to be the stupidest thing we’ve done in a while,” a dry, familiar voice says. 

Ash shivers, skin going somehow clammier. There’s no way that it’s who she thinks it is. 

She stretches up onto her tiptoes to peer over the shoulders of the group in front of her. 

“Really?” A deeper, slightly more nasal voice replies. “Of all the things, this? Come on, man.” 

“Pneumonia no laughing matter, dipshit.” 

“Whatever you say. ’s totally worth it in my book.” 

She knows. In her heart of heart’s she already knows. To see it with her eyes is just a formality at this point because those voices are emblazoned in her memory, resurfacing in her sweetest dreams and most bone-chilling nightmares. 

The crowd shifts and she catches sight of them, her heart stuttering to what feels like a standstill. 

A tall man with long dark hair stands beside a shorter man with electric blue hair.  Fucking hell. They turn, looking at one another as they break into laughter. They’re different from the last time she saw either of them. Both are taller. Larry’s put on muscle and a bit of facial hair. She’s never seen Sally with his hair down before. His mask is the same. Still white except for the pink patched piece. It looks like there’s eyeliner smudged on it, no doubt for the show.

As if it could be anyone but the two of them. She shrinks down, slouching to ensure the crowd covers her, while her mind races to figure out why the actual fuck they’re here. 

Oh. Of course.

“Tara,” she swallows hard, and does her best to keep the shakes out of her voice. 

Tara looks up from her phone, her smile bleached bright under the streetlamp. “Any chance you got the name of the band wrong? Could it have been Sanity's Fall?” 

Her eyes light up wide with recognition. “Yes, that’s exactly what it was, how did you figure that out?” 

“Lucky guess.” 

She smiles again, and is distracted once more in moments. Not that it bothers Ashley. No, she’s grateful that she’s invisible to her soon-to-be-former roommate at this moment. Means that Tara doesn’t notice as she cranes her neck to catch another look ahead.

They don’t notice her. Why would they? The sidewalk is packed. Then again, she doubts that makes any impression on either of them. They’re laughing at a grainy picture that Larry is showing Sally on his phone, their shoulders pressed against one another. They seem…happy. Content. At least more so than the last time she’d seen them. 

Maybe this is why she doesn’t want to go back. Because even in the final days she’d been there, she could feel this…distance. A separation that she couldn’t pretend was either of their fault. 

No. It was her. She couldn’t make the leap of faith into the belief in the supernatural the way that they did. Couldn’t brush off the soul-deep terror that took root in her after she fell into that pile of bones below the apartment building. 

It wasn’t them. The boys were the same as ever. Or maybe they’d grown up. And she hadn’t grown with them, but rather away. 

Still. It’s not as though she doesn’t want to see them. Not as though she won’t go back. She will. They’ll accept her, that much she’s certain of. With warm hugs and dumb stories. Rock music, bean bag chairs, scary movies, and too-salty popcorn. 

She’s just so fucking scared that this time…it won’t feel like home. That instead of a ghost from the past haunting them, it’ll be her. Just a faded version of who she was. 

Her hands shake as she wrestles her cell phone free from her jacket. Fingers numb from the frigid rain, she finds Sal in her contacts. 

To Sally: hey, srry. can’t come back this week, xtra covers at work :( :( 

He might not buy it. She’s told them about her crappy bartending job and what a pain in the ass it is. He won’t question it though, won’t push. 

She stares at the message for a moment before hitting send. She’ll go back. She just can’t tomorrow.  

An obnoxious alert plays somewhere in front of her–a snippet of an overly-loud guitar riff that sounds like it’s been recorded on a tin can. 

She waits, breath held. Nothing good can come from this–from waiting for her message to elicit a response. There is none. Sal and Larry’s conversation about some nonsense involving Gizmo never halts.

Logically, she knows that Sal’s too polite to take out his phone while talking. He’ll check it later, and tell her that it’s alright. That it is too bad, but he’s still so excited to see her the week after. She’ll text the same thing to Larry and get an almost identical response, except with more expletives. 

Like clockwork. No, the boys hadn’t changed. So why is there a pit forming in her chest? 

“Hey, Tara?” She waves her hand in front of her phone to catch her attention. “That boy of yours was going to give you a ride back to ours right?” 

Tara nods, her plastic jewelry clicking together. “Yep, Jared’s driving me.” “Cool, then I might bounce,” Ashley rubs the back of her head, trying to shove down the guilt rising up at Tara’s disappointed expression. “Migraine has been trying to set in all day and I think going to a rock show might actually kill me.” 

Of course, because she’s a good person, Tara’s disappointment morphs into genuine concern in moments, which somehow only makes Ash feel worse. She reaches out, smoothing her hair back from her face, a habit that often makes her wonder if Tara sees her more as a cat than a roommate. 

“Of course, that’d be the worst thing for it. Jared’s almost here. I can ask him to give you a ride ba–” 

“Don’t worry, I’m alright to drive,” she says firmly. “Just don’t want it to get worse.” 

She doesn’t look fully convinced, but doesn’t bother arguing. “Alright, but promise me you’ll text me and let me know you got back safe, ‘kay?” 

“Promise.” She bumps their knuckles in a weak fistbump that makes Tara giggle. “Catch you later tonight, I expect a full report.” 

“Sounds good.” 

She turns, hurrying away from Tara before she can second guess the decision. 

Distance will make it easier–will clear her the cobwebs in her head. Sure, a migraine had been an exaggeration, but she can feel a bit of an ache in her temples that will no doubt bloom into something irritating. 

When her bike comes into view at the far side of the parking lot, it’s accompanied by a rush of relief. She really needs to name it before she sees them, or else Larry will ask and then blurt out something stupid that will stick forever. Just like how Sally’s mask got nicknamed Samuel somehow. 

For a second, she contemplates going back. She could talk to them. It’s not like they’d be anything less than thrilled. They’d hug her like old times–squeezing her so tightly that her ribs would ache–they’d ask about her haircut and her motorcycle. It could be good. 

But she can’t. Not yet. Not tonight, when the perfect moment already seemed to exist in front of her. Without her. 

She pulls her helmet on, exhaling heavily. Nothing left to do but go. 

So she kickstarts her bike and peels out of the parking lot, a little too fast, but it’s not like there are any cars to hit this late.

The rumble of the engine and the rush of the frigid air around her does a good job of driving the thoughts from her mind. 

She’ll go home again. Just not today. 

a/n: thank you for reading the first chapter! i hope you enjoyed it! reblogs are much appreciated and please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist :3

[fernegirl]

and always will, u n t i l t h e e n d.

↳ 18+ only, minors DNI, please.

it's on sight guys, make it clear that you are legal adults & not bots. as an veteran internet user, i just feel more comfortable if my blog is followed by other adults. thanks homies. x

↳ ferne · she/her · 25 · better on paper

multifandom writing & art blog (mostly sally face + death note + horror). dark content + creepy + spooky stuff ahead. ye be warned.

↳ n a v i g a t i o n.

full fics → my ao3 or writing masterlist (pending) drabbles and fanfic stuff → #fernefic tag fanart → #ferneart original writing → #ferneopus tag original art → #fernegallery tag

all other posts will be tagged accordingly by fandom and type