#fog. danny we have a son-
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you're lying.............................💞💘💓💥💥💥

clown chibis ✧˖°꒰๑'ꀾ'๑꒱°˖✧
@frankenbridez @gideongrovel
#DEAREST MATEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 💓💓💓 !!!#oh mah goobness.... i am taken aback by how cute this is ;_; 💞#i was just thinking about rora and cacao stuff to draw and u bonked me on the head 🌀💫.....#gideon is right we look like precious moments figures ... carebears even i cannot even lie >_< those small lil beady eyes....i know them an#where 💘💘💘#MUSTARTTTT I HAVE TO PICK HIM UP (shoves art) MOVE BITCH#the lil -_- rat he is so stoic in nature...immune to anythang (we killed 2 people in front of him he dgaf) im taking him with me into the#fog. danny we have a son-#i love how me and art are sharing one big collar heheh two peas in a pod as u said >_o ✨#such small figures but the way u were able to make such fluid poses like with arthur and gideon is sooo +_+ pleasing to my eyeballs... and#the lil heart motifs everywhere uwaaa TT_TT valentines day core#EVEN THE ANIMALS HEUHUE theyre so cute in this style 💓💫 i wanna put them in my pocket#thank you for the sweet surprise mabby =>_<=) i loves this so muchhhh 💗❣️ im plotting. scheming. u_u <- me thinking and plotting#one javinolo in this style pwease. waiter. oh waiterrrrrr 💥💥💥#killer klowns 🐻🎪#for me! 💝
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The old men of One Piece finding out they have a child with you.
Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk X FemReader
Healthy mix of Angst and Fluff.
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Part 2
Buggy
"You two get your asses down now!" You yelled, trying to stop the two blue haired boys from destroying the restaurant further. Your two identical twins sons where only 11 years old but they were trouble- Double Trouble as everyone called them. Benny and Danny, who had given themselves the Nicknames of Bee and Dee- cause of course they did.
It wasnt just their dramatic tendencies, destructive nature or lack of volume control that made them silkar to a know pirate but also their appearance Who was non other then- Buggy the Clown. While they did lack the trademarked rounded red nose. They did get almost everything else- Long nlue locks, watercolor eyes and that crooked smile of theirs- it really wasn't fair how your genes didn't even have a chance-
It hasn't exactly been your best of moments when you conceived your children- Having been a performer on the famous pirate ship you ended up sleeping with your Captian one night on his Silly Throne. A few weeks later you started to feel unwell and realized you had been pregnant. In a moment of panic you fled the ship the next time it docked- Running from your Crew and Captian to never be seen again.
Once realizing you were on your own. You did what you could to make a living- opening a flashy little restaurant and using it to raise your two trouble makers. Dee running past you with a giggle snapped you from your thoughts, frowning as you set down your customers order infront of them before following the boy.
"Mom Mom! Look!" Bee yelled as he stood on one of the tables pointing out the window of the restaurant at the open ocean, Dee taking his place next to his twin. You walked closer to see what your son was looking at, the fog being thick that night as you tried to focus on what he was seeing.
Squinting your eyes you finally saw it- a Ship. As your eyes focused you saw the Jolly Roger and gasped, Ice feeling like it ran through your vain. You grabbed the boys quickly and backed away from the window. As if on cue the alarms set to alert that pirates had arrived. The sounds of canons hitting the town soon peirced through the alarms and the whole town erupted in chaos. You rush from the windows to the back of your restaurant.
Rushing down the stairs you knew Buggy and the crew would level the town to ashes. The best place to hid being the cellar, while it was small it would hopefully keep you and your boys safe. "Mom what's happening!?" Dee cried as he did his best to keep up with your fast pace. You didn't bother responding as you rushed to the old underground cellar lifting the rug and opened its little door.
"Mom I don't want to go down there!" Bee cried as you lowered him in the cellar first, Dee following soon after as you tried to sooth them.
"I know I know my loves, But do as I say- Stay quiet and-"
You paused as you heard the sound of crashing from out in the dining room followed by screams. Quickly you climbed in with your boys and lowered the wooden door of the cellar above you and frantically tried to place the rug so it fell onto it before plunging you and your sons in darkness.
You sat there shaking, holding your boys close to your chest as you heard the sound of someone walking towards you. Your hands shaking as you held them closer, feeling the moisture of your sons tears soaking into your dress.
You heard the sound of footsteps starting to search the room above you. Previously looking for valuables or anything interesting-
"Captian! I found the liquor!" The voice above you called out, Clearly grabbing the cases of rum that sat in the room above. Heavier footsteps followed into the room, hearing the cackle that made your skin stand up on end.
"Grab it all and whatever people you can find! We have a show tonight afterall!" You heard Buggy voice sound. The crew mate clearly rushing out with the cases while Buggy remained. You heard him turn through the room, ready to leave before his heavy steps landed on the cellar door above you it's old wood groaning at the weight. Your eyes widened as you realized you'd been caught, Without time to react the door was ripped open and you couldn't help but release a scream.
Buggy- In his hands you see his signature blades as he grinned down in the cellar. Reaching down and grabbing you by the hair and yanking you out-
"A new audience memeber!- wait" He raised an eyebrow as he held you up higher by your hair and looked over your crying face. His eyes looking over your face. "I know you... (Y/N)?" He asked questionably before his eyes shot to see a flash of blue dart at him and kick him as another one came to try and pull you from his grasp.
"Let her go!" "LEAVE OUR MAMA ALONE!" Your boys desperately screamed as they weakly tried to attack the man holding you. Buggy dropping you quickly as he stared down at the three of you, You quickly pulling the boys away from him and behind you.
A awkward silence following this as Buggy released a shaky breath before laughing loudly. A insane laugh that had him doubled over, before looking at you again with crazed eyes. A few crew members coming into the room after hearing their Captian laugh, especially at the sight of you, their former crewmate and two boys that looked like their Captian.
"Freaks, Take these three and lock them in my personal Quarters. We got a family reunion!"
Shanks
"Mommy I have Missy Luc-ia ready!" You heard your daughter call out. Setting out the freshly frosted cupcake, onto the countertop, that she was just barely taller then. Smiling down at the bright face before you- She may be only 4 but she was the sweetest girl.
"Thank you Vivian. Can you grab the order list for Mommy?" You ask, getting an exaggerated nod and running off. Her mess of bright red hair bouncing with each step. A little clone of her dad, The famed Shanks 'Red Hair' a former fling of yours.
It had been a nice little relationship you two shared, him coming by every other week to meet with you when his ship restocked. Buying random pastries you knew he bought to get close to you, always complimenting your Baking skills and sweetness. Which ended up to many passionate nights both in your own bed and on Shanks ship. The last time you met, Shanks told you he had to go for a while and didn't know if he's return. Tears shed as you watched him set sail- having the feeling you'd never see him again.
As if the gods had sympathy for you or wanted to use you as a cruel joke you fell pregnant. Giving birth to your daughter who ended up being a Shanks part 2. A giggly and happy baby with unique red hair, while she was a perfect mix of the two of you in terms of face she inherited Shank's smile, hair and eye shape.
As you packed the poorly frosted cupcake that your daughter had made. Ignoring the fingerprints in its frosting- you hit it in the back of the fridge you'd never tell her you couldn't sell it since she had eaten part of her work and replaced it with the true finishes product to be delivered.
As you finished your packing you heard the bell of your bakery door chime.
"Welcome to the Sweet treats bakery, how can I help yo-" the words froze to your lips as you saw Shanks. Eyes wide at seeing him again, it was clear he had delt with some serious wear and tear by how the world seemed to settle on his shoulders a bit more.
"(Y/N) long time no see" He said softly as he stared at you, mentally still trying to process what you were seeing. He stepped forward, Looking ready to explain himself away before the sound of tiny footsteps drew him in- Seeing the little girl holding a notepad with all your orders and running to you. Out of muscle memory you scooped your daughter and placed her on your hip, she smiled at you and held the order book out to you again which you gingerly took.
"Here you go Mommy!" She chimed, Looking at you as she noted your shocked face. Her gaze following the now shocked man, He looked like a breeze could knock him down as he stared at her then you then her again.
"Shes mine isn't she?" Shanks asked, his eyes never leaving the little girl on your hip. Vivian looking at Shank's then you confused at what was taking place. Before you could respond however it seemed Shank's answered his own question. Laughing loudly in utter joy and jumping forward towards you, scaling the countertop like it wasn't even there and crashed his lips against yours happily.
"Ha! I'm a Dad!!" He cheered, Taking his one arm around you and starting to spin you and Vivian who at first was scared. But hearing the giggles from the man started to as well- the two even laughed the same which made the Red Haired man even happier.
"Y-Yes Shanks. She is yours...This is Vivian" You said softly, watching Shanks lean in close to view his daughter. It was like he had found the most amazing treasure in the world and it shone in his eyes.
"Vivian, Such a beautiful name for the most beautiful girl in the world" He said in awe, earning a shy smile from Vivian.
"Vi, This is... this is your Daddy" You say softly, watching Vivian look up at you then back at Shanks. Hesitant at first before holding out her arms tk him, taking the opportunity he scooped her up in his single arm and held her close. Tears welling up in his eyes as he looked at her delicate face, her chubby little fingers touching his face and looking over him.
"You're my Daddy?" She asked innocently. A smile breaking over Shanks face as he nodded and held her close, tears pouring down his face.
"That's right baby girl- I'm your Daddy"
Mihawk
It had been 16 long years since you had laid eyes on Mihawk- a simple one night stand that had long consequences that followed. Your son, your beautiful baby boy who you named Alucare.
It had been at a bar, the two of you drinking and simply talking. Before one thing lead to another in the alleyway next to the bar- You truthfully cringed at the thought of how embarrassing it was to be undone by a few nice words, a charming warlord and some drinks.
"Mother, which one did you want?" Your son asked, snapping you from your thoughts pointing to the fishmongers selection, his emotionless face like a carbon copy of his father's.
Truthfully he looked too much like his damn father- same yellow eyes, black hair, very tall form, stoic face the only thing missing was the facial hair Which you thanked The Gods for since you didn't think you could stare at your one night stands face forever. Alucare did have some differences, he had your nose as well as kept his hair longer. The thick spicy locks hitting the center of his back which you helped him care for. But truthfully that was really it-
You also knew that other people would star long at your boy, a few times Marines having come up to see your son when he was walking to school or going to the market. He knew who his father was, having Marines who had seen him in battle tell him as much. However he never seemed to care, just giving them a frosty look that made them back away before leaving. Whenever you'd brought up the topic of His father he often would sit quietly for a few moments before saying he wasn't interested in such a conversation which you respected.
"Hmm, that one is fresher-" You say sweetly as your boy grabs the fish and plops it in the basket, Handing the merchant the berries.
Always the gentleman he would take your arm in his as the two of you walked. He would hold the heavier baskets and give you only bread or a small bag of fruit. He was too kind as a child, you felt bad at times at how his eyes seemed to know the struggles you had faced when he was born and tried to help you out now that he was older besides your persistence.
"Alucare, I heard from your teachers yoh got very high marks again. Do you want to celebrate? Maybe a nice dinner is in order? Or-"
"It's just a test Mother. No need for so much trouble" He said softly, giving a hint of a smile at his words. You chuckled at him and shook your head. Stubborn too.
You felt your son stop midstep- Glancing up at him as his face turned to stone before your eyes.
"Honey?" You call to him, before following his gaze at what had caught his attention. Across the market a dark figure stood, You immediately felt your heart drop to your stomach as you knew instantly who it was- Mihawk standing there with the same stoic expression as Alucare but his eyes seemed to be a bit wider. Most likely the closest to shock that could come over his face-
You tugged slightly to turn back, not wanting to create a accidental scene but your son clearly had other plans. Instead starting to walk again, His arm still holding yours as he kept his gaze at Mihawk. You expected Alucare to stop infront of Mihawk- a blowup or something but. No.
Alucare just walked past Mihawk- Like he wasn't even there. His face staying forward as no words passed. As you continued to walk you turned to look behind you where you saw Mihawk, he seemed to stagger on his feet like someone had finally peirced him with a blade.. but it seemed to be a invisible one to his heart.
#x reader#one peice x reader#one peice live action#buggy one piece#buggy the clown x reader#buggy x reader#hawkeye mihawk#mihawk x reader#one piece mihawk#shanks#shanks one piece#shanks x reader#one piece shanks
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I don't have much time but I wanted to share this with you while I can! I can't draw but I can write and this is the only way I can share this imagery with you!
The world is passing by in a flurry of colors.
Which usually isn’t that unusual for Clark…usually though it’s because his flying of his own accord. Now…now it was because he was hurdling who knows how fast in piece of metal that was more of a mobile armory then an actual RV then it supposedly was.
There were no support handles to hold on to for just a bit of comfort, no, that was replaced by a handle that would pull down and release a fog horn sound.
So all he could do was pull his knees up to steady himself against the front console, using his size to squeeze himself into a cannonball form in hopes he didn’t get dislodged on a particular rough bump.
Then again if he did, maybe he could get propelled forward and through the front and take the engine out on his way.
Wishful thinking…at least he was doing better then Bruce.
Who was currently sprawled out on the floor of the RV looking like a disheveled cat hanging on to whatever and however he could. Maybe it would look more natural in his Batman outfit but at the moment both if them were in civilian wear and seeing the ‘Prince of Gotham’ doing an impression of a deranged starfish just added on more to today’s bizarreness.
Jack Fenton was giving him a large smile as he drove through another wall, “Don’t you guys worry! I’ll get us to our boys! No speed limit or any barrier can stop a Fenton!”
Clark could only let out a groan of despair as a response...
AMG THIS IS LOVELY LMAO!!! Bruce just imitating one of his sons to keep himself from being thrashed around.. or worse... throw up. ahhhh imagine they both slump out of the rv when they arrive, shaking and so grateful to touch the ground. Bruce is definitely calling for a private jet after this and Clark might agree to ride with him just to have a slower ride.
Danny gives them pity pats when he learns... Jon and Damian like how bad could it be. Damian thinking his father been in a space ship and Jon like we fly that fast every- Only for them to be overheard by Jack by their curiosity, so they all end up being drove back by him. Which bruce and clark like OH GOD please- which becomes a little relief when it turns out Jack drives safer with children.... still deranged but one they can handle. Damian still doesn't see what got their fathers so twisted up. Danny knows though and then asks dad how long it took them. "Regrettably 3 hours son. I was hoping it would be two." Damian frowned and done the math then asking if there was a flying feature in the... rv? "AHA! Nope, but I've been trying to convince Mads to let me install one. She said it would cost too much in gas though, and take up room for the ghost scanner." Damian does the math.. then realizes why his father and clark are shaking in the rv.. even by the tiniest of amounts. "That's my dad! :D" Danny grinning. "He's cool." Jon says innocently enough, not realizing the horror of that statement until it takes them over five hours to get home. Jack decided to play it safe and follow SOME speed limits and road signs. Jack is never allowed to drive again next time they hang out. Bruce or Clark always gets the keys =w= or has limo. ahh sorry got inspired. I LOVE this snippet ;w; !!!! <3 Thank you for writing this. <3<3<3
Link to prompt
#dpxdc#dp x dc#superdads + Jack#jack fenton#clark kent#bruce wayne#asks#dc crossover#dp crossover#impyelam#fanfic#fanfic by someone else#<3#supersons + 1#dcxdp
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Hey lovely, can i make a request for Daniel Ricciardo fic based on But daddy i love him by Taylor? You can have free reign on it, but just that line "me and my wild boy and all of his wild joy" is so Daniel and has been stuck in my head for ages. Something fluffy and funny, so whatever you want (maybe even a pregnancy reveal 👀👀) if you see fit i just love that song and it's so big ric coded.
Love your work!!! Thank you so much 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
but daddy i love him (dr3)
(please bear with me this one is extra long, ily all)
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
the start of the most beautiful things in y/n's life were often masked by difficulties and plagued with the anxieties of life. but when danny was around, things just fell into place. time seemed to stop and the fast paced world began to still.
clutching their pearls, sighing "what a mess"
the air in your childhood home crackled with a tension thicker than the gravy simmering on the stove. you sat across from danny, his smile a little too wide, your dad's gaze narrowed like a hawk eyeing a squirrel.
"so, danny," your dad began, his voice gruff, "you're a… racing driver, is that right?"
"yes sir," danny chimed, a touch too enthusiastically. "formula one, actually! just signed with mclaren for next season."
your dad grunted, poking his mashed potatoes with a fork. "formula one, huh? sounds… dangerous."
"it can be," danny admitted, "but safety's paramount these days, you know?" he flashed a winning grin. "plus, the adrenaline rush? unbelievable."
your dad snorted. "adrenaline rush. sounds like you live life on the edge, son."
you shot your dad a warning glare. "dad, be nice."
he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "honey, I just want to make sure he's responsible. you deserve someone stable, someone who won't make you worry constantly."
"dad!" you exclaimed, cheeks burning. "he's not a reckless teenager, he's a professional athlete! and he takes care of himself."
screaming "but daddy i love him!"
danny, bless his heart, interjected, "exactly! I train like a champion, eat healthy, the whole nine yards. your daughter's in good hands, sir."
the tension remained, a thick fog in the air. dinner progressed in tense silence, punctuated only by the clinking of cutlery. you stole glances at danny, his usual sunny disposition dampened. it broke your heart.
suddenly, your dad cleared his throat. "so, danny," he began, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "you said you race for mclaren? ever met lewis hamilton?"
you watched in surprise as danny's face lit up. "met him? I race alongside him! absolute legend, that man. we have some epic battles on the track."
for the next hour, the conversation flowed. your dad, a former racing enthusiast himself, peppered danny with questions about the sport, its history, the intricacies of car setup. danny, more than happy to oblige, regaled him with stories, technical details, even pulling out his phone to show pictures of him with lewis.
by the end of the night, your dad was chuckling at a particularly funny anecdote about a rogue pigeon causing a pit stop delay. he clapped danny on the back with a newfound warmth. "alright, alright, danny. you alright in my book. just take care of my daughter, you hear?"
danny, his grin back in full force, squeezed your hand. "wouldn't dream of it, sir. consider yourself one of my biggest fans from now on."
as you walked danny to his car later, a comfortable silence settled between you. "thanks for being patient with him," you whispered, leaning into his side.
i know he's crazy but he's the one i want
he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "your dad just wants the best for you, that's all. and seeing you happy… that's all I want too." he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. "besides, I think I scored some serious brownie points tonight, wouldn't you say?"
you laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet night. "maybe just enough to convince him that a formula one driver can be perfectly responsible... especially when he makes my daughter this happy."
time skip
the sun beat down on the golden sands of miami beach, the gentle waves lapping at the shore lulling you into a state of pure bliss. sprawled out on your beach towel, sunglasses perched on your nose, you were lost in a trashy romance novel, the sound of danny's playful laughter occasionally breaking through your concentration.
suddenly, a shadow fell over you. you peeked over your sunglasses to see danny, a mischievous glint in his eyes, standing over you. before you could even register what was happening, he swooped down, scooping you up in his arms like a prize.
now i'm dancing in my dress in the sun and
"hey!" you shrieked, a surprised laugh escaping your lips. the book tumbled into the sand, forgotten.
with a triumphant yell, danny sprinted towards the ocean. the cool water rushed at you as he plunged in, carrying you with him. you shrieked again, this time with delight, water splashing everywhere.
when danny finally set you down, the waves lapping at your waists, you couldn't help but grin at him. his hair was plastered to his forehead, and a carefree smile stretched across his face.
i'm his lady, and oh my god
"you're a menace, ricciardo!" you exclaimed, shaking your head playfully.
he just laughed, the sound echoing across the beach. then, in a flash, he was pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. you giggled as he dipped you backwards, the cool water washing over you both.
when he pulled you back up, his eyes held a playful fire. before you could say anything, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was warm, sweet, and tasted faintly of salt. you melted into him, the world around you fading away.
me and my wild boy and all of this wild joy
the kiss ended with a sigh, foreheads resting against each other. you looked into his eyes, their blue depths sparkling with love and adoration.
"you're crazy," you whispered, a smile blooming on your face.
"only for you," he replied, his voice husky. he brushed a stray strand of hair from your cheek, his thumb gently tracing the curve of your jaw.
you sighed contentedly, leaning into his touch. in that moment, with the sun warming your skin, the sound of the waves crashing in your ears, and danny by your side, everything felt perfect. you wouldn't trade this feeling for the world.
time skip
you fidgeted with the hotel room balcony railing, the bustling city of monaco blurring below. danny, oblivious, was humming along to the pre-race hype blaring from the tv. today was his big day, the monaco grand prix, and the nervous energy crackling in the air was almost tangible. you, however, were grappling with a different kind of jitters.
taking a deep breath, you approached him, the small velvet box clutched tightly in your hand. "danny," you began, voice barely above a whisper. he glanced up, a dazzling smile splitting his face.
"hey there, sunshine," he said, reaching out to pull you into a quick hug. "ready for the race?"
"actually," you mumbled, biting your lip, "there's something I need to tell you before you go."
he frowned playfully, his brow crinkling in mock seriousness. "is it that you secretly placed a giant shoey on toto wolff's yacht?"
you laughed, a little relieved at the lighter mood. "no, nothing like that. it's… well, it's important."
he set the tv remote down, his smile softening. "alright, come here," he patted the space next to him on the plush couch. you sat down, fiddling with the box in your lap. the words seemed to get stuck in your throat, a tangled mess of nerves.
"danny," you tried again, voice shaking slightly, "we might need to… postpone those post-race victory celebrations."
now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned
he chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "losing faith in your honey badger already? don't worry, I've got this."
frustration bubbled up. "no, it's not that! it's… it's…" you squeezed the box so hard your knuckles turned white. "i'm pregnant, danny!"
the playful smile vanished, replaced by a look of utter confusion. "pre… what now?" he asked, brow furrowed.
panic clawed at you. was this the wrong approach? "pregnant! as in, a baby, danny! we're having a baby!" you blurted out, your voice bordering on a squeak.
i'm having his baby
the confusion on his face morphed into a look of dawning realization. his eyes widened, then welled up with tears. a choked sob escaped his lips. he whipped his head towards the balcony door and threw it open, a joyous yell erupting from his throat.
"we're having a baby!" he bellowed across the bustling streets of monte carlo, his voice thick with emotion.
i know he's crazy but he's the one i want
he turned back to you, a goofy grin splitting his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. before you could even react, he swept you into a tight embrace, the box tumbling onto the floor with a soft thud. he squeezed you like a lifeline, muttering incoherent words of joy into your hair.
his emotions were infectious. you clung to him, tears welling up in your own eyes. he pulled back, his hands cupping your face. he peppered your cheeks, forehead, your nose, with kisses, every kiss filled with a love so profound it took your breath away.
"this is… this is incredible, y/n," he finally managed to say, his voice hoarse. he pulled you close again, resting his forehead against yours. "we're having a baby. we're going to be parents."
he was chaos, he was revelry
the celebratory noises from outside were a distant hum, drowned out by the frantic thumping of your heart and the overwhelming sense of happiness washing over you. in that moment, in danny's arms, with the promise of a new life growing inside you, the world seemed to shimmer with possibility. you couldn't wait to start this incredible adventure together.
but oh my god you should see your faces
#daniel riccardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo#dr3#dr3 x reader#dr3 imagine#f1 edit#formula 1#f1 imagine#formula one#red bull racing#y/n#mcalren#redbull#fia#ferrari#romance#requests#ava speaks#daniel riccardo x reader
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LETTERS
Letter 2

Summary:
It's 1917 and you decide to write to a random man in the war hoping what words you give can him will help him, although no response back you continue to send letters and doing this you never have expected this nameless man to fall for your words.
"Life is a bitch but I'm determined to put a bullet between the fuckers eyes" - Thomas Shelby

With a heavy sigh Thomas takes a seat at a long table in the mess hall tent and rub his whole face with a dirty hand but he doesn't mind it one bit, it doesn't take long for Arthur and Danny to come over to where he sits after getting their own tray of food. Not even after two minutes of eat and chatting the young mail runner gose in looking around for someone but once his eyes landed on Thomas's back he immediately matched out and without a word he laid the mail by his tray before leaving.
"What does Polly and Ada say?" Arthur questioned while watching Thomas shuffle through the mail between bites which he only gives Arthur a glance before freezing at the sight of another letter from the mysterious woman, immediately Thomas hands the letters from Polly and Ada to Arthur before carefully opening it.
Dear Thomas Shelby,
Like I have said in my last letter things here in Small Heath is still the same gloominess but the fog is heavier with depression and hopelessness which we're coming to be accustomed to although we wish not to, many us now working women can feel it but don't dare to say anything about it out of fear of the worse happening. The quietness is still on going despite our best efforts to march forward with our lives but not matter what we do there's a empties we can not fill until our men returns home, the sky continues to remind us of this harshly with its long last grayness which is darker than usual now days.
The world seems to weep and wail at this war, the killing as lighting storms happenes almost every night.
|Newspaper clipping is glued here|
[A Sad Burning!
^A black and white picture of the remains of a burned house^
I am sad to inform that a house in the quieter part of Small Heath has burned down quietly in the night without a notice and around 7 this morning a neighbor had finally noticed black smoke and saw the remains of what was a house in the distance, sadly Emma Evans along with her two sons Ethan and Fred was found in the ashes of the house. The cause of the fire is still undetermined at this moment.]
It's sad that the good people goes first but I guess that's for the best as they're too good for this crazy and mess up world we live in constantly, despite the pain at least it ain't boring. Work is going slow as usual although there's a urgency in the air while working pushing us to go faster without being told to do so making me wonder if it's the same with you, what position you hold?
Last night I decided to pour you a glass of whiskey from a bottle I've been saved for hard times like this and hope that somehow you'll receive someday, after a minute of it sitting on the table in front of the chair where I placed it I had to drink it but the gesture counts in the end.
I wish you all the luck you can get, Thomas
Sincerely
(Your name)
Thomas frown deepens when reading the newspaper clipping about the house burning only for the corners of his lips turns up at the mention of you pouring him a glass of whiskey at the end only for Danny to snap him out of the trance he was in.
"That from her again?" Danny asked after a few moments of silence, him and the other two men at the are completely covered in dirt but don't even attempt to wipe it away only for it to return when they return to the tunnels.
"Her? Who?" Arthur immediately question in confusion and curiosity as he looks at the two from the letters he was reading and between eating.
"A woman send him a letter like week but Tommy won't let me read it..." Danny explained to Arthur but shut his mouth when Thomas gives him a glare as he folds the letter back up and back into the envelope which he puts it into the rest of his letters, back into his waist again.
"It's some woman named (Y/n)." Thomas simply stated hoping it'll satisfy their curiosity and stuff asking him about her but it only made them even more curious about her.
"Why is she writing to you? Dose she know who you are back home? Where does she live anyway?" Arthur questioned his brother in wonder on why in the hell a random woman is sending letters to his brother.
"Because she can and wants to." Thomas continues to eat not saying another word and ending these conversation about the woman although questions about her continue to fill his mind no matter how hard he tries to forget her, always hoping for another letter deep inside his heart.
_______________________________________________
#fanfic#peaky blinder fanfic#fanfiction#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinders#peaky fucking blinders#peaky blinders au#female y/n#y/n
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The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)
A/N: The urge to use Imagine Dragons songs is coming back and I'm gonna let it win -Danny Words: 2,104 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'End Of Beginning' -by Djo
XLVI: I Develop a Parasocial Relationship With the Voices
Ara gasps as her friends fall face-first into the room, she tries to run to their side with Hazel and Leo following. Then Clytius moves, standing in their way.
"Clytius, you've lost! Let them go, or you'll end up like Pasiphaë!" Hazel exclaims.
Annabeth sits up and talks in a voice that's definitely not hers. "I am not Pasiphaë. You have won nothing."
"Stop that!" Hazel gasps in fear.
"Not quite dead." Now is Percy talking with the giant's voice. "A terrible shock to the mortal body, I would imagine, coming back from Tartarus. They'll be out for a while. I'll tie them up and take them to Porphyrion in Athens. Just the sacrifice we need. Unfortunately, that means I have no further use for you three."
"Oh, yeah?" Leo scowls. "Well, maybe you got the smoke, buddy, but I've got the fire."
They realize his move is a mistake a little too late. Leo bends over in pain as dark smoke encircles his body and forces him to his knees. "No!" Hazel tries to get closer but then Leo starts talking for Clytius.
"I would not. You do not understand, Hazel Levesque. I devour magic. I destroy the voice and the soul. You cannot oppose me."
The black fog covering Leo spreads across the room and Ara hears a buzzing ahead, the Doors of Death are fighting against their enclosure. "Hazel," Ara says tensely, nodding at the doors and reaching for her Octopi to rummage through it for the right bomb to throw.
"F-fire," Hazel stammers, trying to distract their opponent. "You're supposed to be weak against it."
"You were counting on that, eh? It is true I do not like fire. But Leo Valdez's flames are not strong enough to trouble me." Annabeth responds.
"What about my flames, old friend?" Hecate speaks behind them.
The giant tenses, his anger is palpable when he talks through Percy. "You."
"Me. It has been millennia since I fought at the side of a demigod, but Hazel Levesque has proven herself worthy. What do you say, Clytius? Shall we play with fire?" The goddess asks, lifting her torches.
"Bold words." Clytius continues, the fog getting thicker. "You forget, goddess. When we last met, you had the help of Hercules and Dionysus—the most powerful heroes in the world, both of them destined to become gods. Now you bring... these?"
Leo winces and curls on the floor, Ara's heart leaps at the sight. He's not dying today, she'll make sure of it. The girl turns Almighty back into a sword and stands tall, her cloak moves behind her covered in dirt and stinking like the Underworld, but showing all of her seven blessings.
"Hazel," she speaks lowly, "bring them back to us."
"On it, Strategus," Hazel stretches out her palms, and somehow, the girl transports Leo, Percy, and Annabeth to their side of the room.
Hecate smiles faintly. "You're right, Clytius. Hazel Levesque and Arae Jackson are not Hercules or Dionysus, but I think you will find them just as formidable."
"What's going on?" Leo coughs out, coming back to his senses. "What can I—"
"Watch Percy and Annabeth." Hazel orders. "Stay behind us. Stay in the Mist."
"But—" Hazel glares at him and Leo shrinks in his place. "Yeah, got it. White Mist good. Black smoke bad."
Ara tosses her Octopi bag at him and he barely catches it. "Help Percy and Annabeth."
"Formidable?" The giant's voice sounds all around them. "Because the girl has learned your magic tricks, Hecate? Because you allow these weaklings to hide in your Mist? Arae Jackson... She's just a puppet of the gods."
Ara's ancestry has nothing to do with blood or place of birth, it's who came before her, who stood where she stands, and who got her to this point. The lessons her friends and the sons of Olympus gave her are what she's valuing in herself from now on.
Clytius makes a sword appear in his hand, made of stygian iron like Nico's. "I do not understand why Gaea would find any of these demigods worthy of sacrifice. I will crush them like empty nutshells."
Hazel screams and thousands of precious stones hit the giant like bullets. Ara runs forward, dodges the bad guy, and slashes the chains on each side of the elevator's doors.
"No!" The voice bounces off the walls. "You worthless—"
"Worthless?" Hecate hums. "I'd say Hazel and Arae know a few tricks even I could not teach them."
"So, daughter of Pluto, do you really believe Hecate has your interests at heart? Circe was a favorite of hers. And Medea. And Pasiphaë. How did they end up, eh?"
Clytius is trying the classic brainwashing move. The problem is Hazel and Ara have had enough encounters with manipulative jerks by now that they're immune to this tactic.
"Hecate will not tell you the truth. She sends acolytes like you to do her bidding and take all the risk. If by some miracle you incapacitate me, only then will she be able to set me on fire. Then she will claim the glory of the kill. You saw how Bacchus dealt with the Alodai twins in the Colosseum. Hecate is worse. She is a Titan who betrayed the Titans. Then she betrayed the gods. Do you really think she will keep faith with you?"
"I cannot answer his accusations, Hazel," says the woman. "This is your crossroads. You must choose."
"Yes, crossroads." The giant's laughter echoes. "Hecate offers you obscurity, choices, vague promises of magic. I am the anti-Hecate. I will give you truth. I will eliminate choices and magic. I will strip away the Mist, once and for all, and show you the world in all its true horror."
"You give no hope for a better outcome, and I already have too much of that crap in me," Ara expands her shield and Almighty turns into a javelin. "The Doors of Death are gone, so I have no reason to waste more of my time here."
"You can't seriously believe you have the strength," Clytius sneers. "What will you do, pelt me with more rubies? You'll bury me under a pile of compliments, daughter of love?"
Hazel and Ara share a look. Men. Then they charge. Ara gets his rear while Hazel strikes his front, the giant's unsure of who to attack first, and Ara forgets about being calculating and sneaky. He'd said that he fed on magic, voices, and soul, then Ara would use none of that, and he won't be able to stall her.
She makes use of nothing but fast and easy brute force. No blessings, he could absorb them and she won't risk losing that advantage. It's her, Almighty, and Hazel. Oh! And her flintlock. She shoots unsure of his weak point, if he has any, but she's trying hard to find it.
Clytius fights with wild rage, and before she can help it, he hits Hazel. The girl rolls away, clutching her ribs. "It's over, child of Olympus. Without your blessings, you alone cannot weaken me, and if you use them, I'll drain you out."
"Alone?" She turns her weapon back into a sword. "I've got Achilles and Hercules in Almighty, I carry Olympus on my back, and as the General of all armies, Clytius, I will personally kill you in the name of all demigods, Greek and Roman."
The air in the room shifts, Ara looks over her shoulder and spots a new group of people stepping into the scene through a newly made door: Frank, Nico, Piper, and Jason all ready to help.
"Sorry we're late," Jason speaks. "Is this the guy who needs killing?"
Ara laughs—one of her loud and melodic ones. "Took you long enough!"
When they move, Leo joins the fight without asking for permission. Ara panics for a moment, thinking it might be dangerous, and then scolds herself. She doesn't want to see him as a weakness anymore.
Nico's Stygian sword seems to suck in the fog that comes out of Clytius, and Ara remembers Lily's weapon and turns to Percy and Annabeth. "Lily's dagger!" She calls urgently.
Both teens are standing, though they're barely able to. Annabeth unsheaths the blade and slides it across the floor. Ara stops it with her foot and picks it up. Almighty and her shield shrink, the first to become a dagger and the other back into a hair-tie around her wrist.
Her hands have equal-sized weapons, and Ara feels ready to end this. It's a little hard to get back in without getting hurt on accident, but she manages to. "Leo, Jason! I need a grenade and a lift—in that order!"
Leo pulls out two grenades of Greek fire. He tosses one to the giant's face and temporarily blinds him as when Clytius eats it, and then he dumps the second into his breastplate. "Duck!" He screams.
Everyone drops and covers their heads as Clytius's armor blasts into pieces. Jason lifts Ara off the ground several feet up and throws her on top of the dazzled giant. The girl slashes his chest with Almighty first, then just as quickly she sinks Lily's dagger deep into the wound, absorbing the giant's energy.
"Good luck draining this," she mutters.
Clytius faints and Ara slips off, yanking the stygian dagger out in the process. The rest of her friends gather around her, and Hecate steps forward. "And so it ends," she says.
"It does not end." Clytius's words are slurring. "My brethren have risen. Gaea waits only for the blood of Olympus. It took all of you together to defeat me. What will you do when the Earth Mother opens her eyes?"
Hecate doesn't dignify that question with an answer, she just stuffs her torches in the giant's head, igniting his body so quickly that Ara doesn't even get to feel grossed out.
Hazel breathes in harshly and Ara snaps out of her murderous fit. "Broken rib," Ara says with concern. "We have to get you out of here."
"Yes, you should go now, Hazel Levesque. Lead your friends out of this place." Hecate tells her.
"Just like that? No 'thank you'? No 'good work'?" Hazel asks through gritted teeth while Ara helps her up.
"Let it go, Haze," Ara whispers.
"You look in the wrong place for gratitude," the goddess replies. "As for 'good work,' that remains to be seen. Speed your way to Athens. Clytius was not wrong. The giants have risen—all of them, stronger than ever. Gaea is on the very edge of waking. The Feast of Hope will be poorly named unless you arrive to stop her."
"We will stop them," Ara responds. "I've got a good crew."
There is a shadow of a smile when the woman talks to her. "Well, you are the voice of all demigods, so I shall trust your judgment." The ceiling starts crumbling and Hecate tenses. "The House of Hades is unstable. Leave now. We shall meet again." And just like that, she's gone.
"Never expect gratitude," Ara talks while Nico approaches and takes Hazel from her. "You can't control their sentiment, but you can rely on binding rules. Hecate will keep an eye on you now because you're her servant, that might save you one day."
Hazel looks up at her with soft eyes and takes a shaky breath. "Thank you."
Ara smiles. "It's my job."
"Birdy got taller?" Percy's hoarse voice catches their attention.
"Dude." Jason reaches Percy and wraps his arms around him in a crushing hug.
"Back from Tartarus!" Leo howls and whistles. "That's my peeps!"
Piper hugs Annabeth and cries, Frank goes to Hazel and takes her from Nico. Nico reaches Ara and offers to shake her hand. "Well done, Birdy. I told you the cloak would help."
She stares at his hand and then at his face. "I'm so sorry for what I'll do, please don't stab me." Ara wraps her arms around him and takes a deep breath of relief. Nico tenses for about five seconds, then stiffly and lightly pats her back.
"Thank you," she sniffs. "Without you, I wouldn't've gotten my brother back. Thank you, Nico."
"I promised I would," he responds curtly.
"Birdy?" The girl looks towards the voice calling her: Percy's clothes are torn, he looks sickly, and his eyes are bloodshot... but his gaze is soft and full of relief.
"Brother," she chokes out.
Ara rushes to them and pulls him and Annabeth into a hug that feels like heaven after a month of literal hell. The girl sobs as she squeezes them tightly against her, and uses her empath touch to absorb their ailings.
She kisses his brother's cheek and Annabeth's forehead, not needing to stand on her toes to do any of those since she's almost as tall as Annabeth. "I'm so sorry—"
"I'm not," Annabeth cries tears of joy. "But I'm sorry your T-Rex wasn't as lucky as us... it burned to death."
Ara laughs tearily and shakes her head. "I don't care—I've got my family back."
Next Chapter –>
Taglist.
@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes
#twoidiots writing#pjo fanfic#leo valdez fanfic#doo#leo valdez x oc#heroes of olympus#percy jackson and the olympians
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Father and Son
(TickleTober Day 5: Not Ticklish)
Summary: Daniel and Eric had another argument
Pairing: None, this is so incredibly platonic. the fact that I actually have to say that is just- 💀
Word Count: 1,091
A/N: I gave into the feminine urge to mend their relationship
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The tension in the Matthews household was thicker than fog. Eric and Daniel had had another fight, ending with both of them shouting and Daniel storming off and slamming his door.
Eric stood in place, rubbing his temples and contemplating all that was said. It was easy to lose your cool when dealing with an angsty teenager, but perhaps he was too hard on Daniel. After all, he was still just a kid.
As much as Eric wanted to talk to Daniel, he knew the kid needed some time to himself and he didn’t wanna invade his space.
They would sort it out later.
After some time, Eric decided Daniel had probably cooled off by now and decided that now was the time to talk.
He took a deep breath as he stood outside his son’s door, already contemplating what he should say. Finally, he hesitantly knocked.
“Daniel? Can I come in?”
“Whatever..”
With permission granted, he turned the doorknob and entered the room where Daniel laid on his bed with his arms crossed over his chest, an expression of irritation on his face.
Eric sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.
For a moment, the two sat in uncomfortable silence, both having a hard time looking at one another.
Finally, the man spoke.
“Look, son, I know I haven’t been as… present as I should be.” He started, trying to find the right words. “I know the divorce has been difficult for you and I just wanted to apologize for everything I said… I shouldn’t have been so hard on you, and I’m sorry.”
Daniel seemed to contemplate the apology before giving an awkward nod.
“It’s whatever… I was kind of a douchebag too.”
With the awkward exchange over with, the tense atmosphere still remained, though less suffocating than before. Eric knew he had to lighten the mood.
Thinking back to when Daniel was little, he suddenly got an idea. An idea that would either lighten the mood, or make Daniel hate him forever.
“Hey, Danny… are you still ticklish?” He asked, looking at his son to watch for his response.
And what a response it was.
Daniel quickly sat up and pulled his legs close to himself, his cheeks turning pink as his eyes formed a wary gaze.
“No, I’m not ticklish.. I outgrew that years ago!” He claimed defensively, though there was a tinge of nervousness in his voice.
Daniel often wore a tough facade. He’d built himself a wall of teenage angst and he refused to let it break. Though he knew that if the knowledge of his ticklishness resurfaced, that would get washed down the drain.
Eric was unconvinced. He knew his son too well for that lie to work.
“Daniel, how are we going to build a better relationship if we can’t be honest with ourselves.” There was a playful tone to his voice. Deciding to put his son’s claim to the test, - even though he knew it was a lie - he finally reached over and dug into Daniel’s sides, earning a surprised squawk from the teenager.
“ACK- Dahad!”
The rare sound of laughter filled the room, Daniel squirming and shoving at his father’s hands, his facade broken almost instantly.
Seeing his angsty teenage son laughing and smiling like a child truly melted the detectives heart. It had been too long since he’d seen the kid look so free and happy; the usual scowl replaced with a bright smile, just like the one he wore when he was a child.
“Well, Danny, I’m starting to think that you lied about not being ticklish.” He teased, relishing in his sons laughter.
Daniel’s laughter grew louder when the tickling fingers moved upwards to his ribs, massaging the bones and digging into his back ones, sending ticklish sparks shooting through his nervous system.
“STOHOHOP! YOU’RE S-SO AHAH- AHAHANNOYING!!” The kid shouted through his guffaws, though there was a hint of glee in his voice, showing that he didn’t hate this as much as he claimed.
“Well, am I as annoying as you are ticklish?” “YEHEHES!!” Daniel walked right into the trap.
“So you admit you’re ticklish!”
Daniel’s face turned red, realizing what the answer implied and immediately regretting his response. He kicked his legs and bucked his hips, tears of mirth forming at the corners of his eyes.
Eric recalled all of Daniel’s tickle spots, remembering one in particular that used to get some pretty big reactions.
“If memory serves- and mine is never wrong- you used to be pretty ticklish riiiight here!” He shoved his fingers under Daniel’s arms, scratching at the sensitive hollows.
Daniel let out a childish squeal, throwing his head back with unrestrained joy, gluing his arms to his sides and trapping his fathers hands.
“DAHAHAHAD!!! NOT THEHEHERE-”
The teenager was in stitches. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so hard, if at all. It was almost freeing in a way.
“Told you I was never wrong. You might be even more ticklish than when you were little, son!”
Eric was enjoying this moment just as much as Daniel, his chest tightened with affection for his kid, looking at his rosy cheeks and scrunched up nose and seeing the bright little boy that he raised.
In this moment, Daniel wasn’t an angsty teenager, he was just a kid.
Not wanting to push too far, Eric let up, pulling back and ruffling the kids hair.
Daniel laid catching his breath, a smile still glued to his face.
“You’re such an ahahass…” He tried to glare at his father, but it wasn’t very menacing due to the rosy cheeks and goofy smile.
“Watch it, son. Unless you want a round two-”
“Nonononono!! I’m good I’m gohohood!” The giggling teenager held up his hands defensively, sitting back up and shaking his head.
Eric laughed and pat his son on the shoulder, assuring that there would be no more tickles for the time being.
The earlier tension had been lifted, replaced by a comforting atmosphere. When Daniel finally calmed down, Eric wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close, holding him in a side hug.
“I love you, Danny. No matter how many arguments we have, you’ll always be my kid.”
Daniel smiled at that and leaned into the hug.
“I know. I love you too, dad…”
“Wow, not too cool to tell your old man you love him?” The elder grinned.
Daniel snorted.
“Shut up.”
With their differences set aside, the two would continue to improve their relationship, father and son.
#mess writes#tickletober2023#augtickletober2023#tktober2023#tktober#tickletober#saw tk#saw tickles#lee!daniel#ler!eric#father and son 🥺#Daniel matthews#Eric matthews#lee!daniel matthews#saw tickle fic#saw tk fic#saw franchise
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Sound Bites Presents: The Best of Hardly Strictly Bluegrass 2023
Editor’s Note: the 2023 edition of Hardly Strictly Bluegrass ended one week ago today. Having returned to backward Oiho after a glorious three days in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park, the blog recounts his favorite sets of the festival. Read Sound Bites’ full coverage here, here and here; and see more photos here, here and here.
Rickie Lee Jones - Horseshoe Hill stage, Sept. 29; Banjo stage, Sept. 30: Given 45 minutes for her festival-opening reading from “Last Chance Texaco” and another hour for music the following day, when she played the titular song from her 2021 memoir, Jones got more stage time than any other performer. And she put it to good use. After sound-checking with a snippet of “The Horses,” a high-spirited Jones read excerpts about her time as a 14-year-old hitchhiker in California and how her admiration of the hippie ideal eventually turned into contempt. She closed the session by playing a solo-acoustic version of “The Moon is Made of Gold,” a song written by her father.

The following afternoon, Jones and her band played to a ginormous crowd - “I haven’t seen so many people in front of me for so long,” she said, clearly enjoying the moment. Crooning at the mic on “One More for the Road;” playing guitar on a New Orleanian rearrangement of “Danny’s All Star Joint;” sitting at the piano for “We Belong Together;” and playing banjo on an untitled work-in-progress she had unveiled two nights earlier on guitar at the benefit for Camp Winnarainbow, Jones was effervescent and as appreciative of her audience as they were of her. Sound Bites obviously doesn’t know Jones, yet it made him so happy to see her so happy over the three days of performances he and Mrs. Sound Bites witnessed. Rickie Lee, gold.

Tommy Emmanuel - Arrow stage, Oct. 1 - Allotted a criminally stingy 50 minutes, Emmanuel was the only solo-acoustic act to make an audience stop talking and simply gasp at what they were hearing and seeing. That’s because he is a band unto himself and he introduced his phantom accompanists while playing bassline, percussion, rhythm and lead simultaneously on his acoustic guitar. “Sixteen Tons” and “Nine-Pound Hammer” found Emmanuel singing; “Imagine” was instrumental save for the audience and the guitarist’s famous, inhuman “Beatles Medley” closed the set, which should’ve run an hour.

Eilen Jewell - Rooster stage, Oct. 1 - Playing songs from her pre- and post-pandemic albums, Gypsy and Get Behind the Wheel, respectively, Jewell was positively enthralling during her 45-minute midday set, which wrapped with a near carbon-copy of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Green River,” allowing secret-sauce guitarist Jerry Miller to shine.

Christone “Kingfish” Ingram - Towers of Gold stage, Sept. 29 - At 24, Ingram sounds like he’s been playing guitar for 50 years already. This up-and-coming bluesman is going to be a huge star and he spent his 50 minutes demonstrating why he may very well be thought of in 2073 in the same way Buddy Guy is today.

The Travelin’ McCourys - Banjo stage, Oct. 1 - With Punch Brother Noam Pikelny filling in for Rob McCoury on banjo, the sons of Del played some of the least-Hardly Strictly music of the entire festival, as a large swath of the audience bounced along in unison while the band smoked a bluegrass “Scarlet Begonias” in the park the Grateful Dead filled with music so many times in the days of yore. “Seems appropriate,” Ronnie McCoury said.

Doc Watson Tribute - Horseshoe Hill stage, Oct. 1 - Joined at various points by Andrew Marlin, Valerie June and Jon Langford, Mitch Greenhill, Nora Brown and Stephanie Coleman offered an intimate set that included “Summertime,” “Handsome Molly” and “Tom Dooley” among others. It all ended with the life-affirming experience of a couple of hundred people singing “Keep on the Sunny Side” under a canopy of trees in a light afternoon fog.

Bettye LaVette - Rooster stage, Sept. 30 - At 77, LaVette remains a powerful performer, stalking the stage and employing her raspy voice to great effect. Bob Dylan may have written “Things Have Changed,” but LaVette owns it.

Irma Thomas - Rooster stage, Sept. 30 - Thomas, 82, played HSB’s most-rambunctious set, closing Saturday with a barnburner that reached its apex with “I Done Got Over It” -> “Iko Iko” -> “Hey Pocky Way” -> “I Done Got Over It.”

Honorable mention: The McCrary Sisters - Rooster stage, Sept. 30 - Rather than a full performance, which they merited, the McCrarys played a handful of five- to 15-minute spots that included uplifting renditions of Stevie Wonder’s “Higher Ground” and “Amazing Grace.”
10/8/23
#hardly strictly bluegrass#rickie lee jones#tommy emmanuel#eilen jewell#the travelin’ mccourys#doc watson#the mccrary sisters#irma thomas#bettye lavette#christone kingfish ingram#2023 concerts
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The quiet after Danny's departure settled over the park like a smothering fog. Talia stood unmoving, her expression unreadable, though her fingers had curled into trembling fists.
Batman and Robin approached with measured steps.
Damian's sharp green eyes flicked between his mother and the fading figures of Danny and the red-haired woman he had called Mom.
"Who was that?" Damian asked, voice clipped and low.
Talia didn't answer.
Bruce's jaw tightened. He already suspected, piecing together the fragments. The way Talia stared. The boy's words. His stance, his subtle movements-trained, but faded by years away from the League. And yet, unmistakable.
"You didn't tell me there was another," Bruce said coldly, voice carefully neutral.
Talia turned to him, a storm behind her eyes. "He was a failure," she spat. "Weak. Soft. Not fit to carry the Al Ghul name."
Damian blinked slowly. "Then why are you shaking?"
She said nothing.
Elsewhere - That Night
Danny sat on the motel bed, legs pulled to his chest, Maddie on the other bed quietly fiddling with a green-glowing device. She was giving him space-she always did when he got like this. When the old scars flared up under his skin and left him hollow.
She hadn't asked about the woman in the park. She hadn't needed to.
Jazz had always said that their mom was terrifying when she was calm. But Danny disagreed.
Maddie Fenton, ghost hunter, scientist, fiercely loving mother-not by blood, but by choice-was strongest when she didn't press.
Danny loved her for that.
"You okay, Dan-o?" she asked softly.
He swallowed. "Yeah. I just... forgot she existed for a while. Would've liked to keep it that way."
Maddie looked up, and for a second Danny saw that steel behind her eyes-the kind that had made literal ghosts tremble. "We don't have to go anywhere near Gotham again."
Danny smiled faintly. "Appreciate it."
Wayne Manor - The Next Day
Damian stood at the edge of the Batcave training room, not doing his usual warmups. His mind was elsewhere.
Bruce entered silently, eyes flicking toward his son.
"He's your brother."
It wasn't a question.
Damian nodded once. "Half."
There was no venom in the word. Just confusion.
"He looked... normal, Damian admitted. "But he
moved like one of us. And he called Mother 'no one important."
Bruce leaned against the railing above the training floor. "Respect is earned, Damian. Not forced. You
know that better than anyone."
"He didn't even look at me." Damian's voice dropped lower. "Like I wasn't even worth noticing."
Bruce didn't speak immediately. Then: "You've spent your whole life trying to earn Talia's respect. What if
he stopped trying long ago?"
Damian turned that over in his mind.
"And still turned out okay, Bruce added.
Three Days Later - Star City
The Fentons rolled into Star City with more gadgets than sense and a van that rattled like it was held together by duct tape and spite.
Danny was quietly hopeful. New city. New chance.
But of course, the universe had a sense of humor.
Because that very night, while he was checking out the physics department at a campus open house, a figure landed in front of him with a dramatic whoosh of a cape.
"You're Danyal."
Danny looked up from his clipboard, sighed, and
pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You're the demon brat, aren't you?"
Damian Wayne crossed his arms. "I came to see what kind of person you are."
"Should've just sent a friend request, man," Danny muttered.
"I want to know why she hates you so much."
Danny met Damian's gaze, something dangerous sparking behind his tired blue eyes. "Because I wasn't
what she wanted. And she doesn't know what it's like to love something without expecting it to be useful."
Damian blinked. That landed heavier than he expected.
Danny sighed, turning away. "Tell you what, Robin.
You stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours. I'm not trying to ruin anything you've got. I just want a
quiet life. That too much to ask?"
Damian hesitated.
Then: "Noted."
He turned and vanished into the night without another word.
And Danny?
Danny let out a long breath he hadn't known he was holding.
Star City might not be far enough after all.
Two Nights Later - Star City
The air in the park turned unnaturally still.
Leaves hung suspended midair.
Animals fell silent.
The kind of silence that made instinct scream wrong.
Danny felt it immediately. Not the cold of a ghost, not quite. But something older, steeped in arrogance and legacy. His fingers clenched around the thermos on his belt before he even saw the figure.
Ra's Al Ghul emerged from the shadows as if they bent to let him pass. Cloak trailing, stance regal, face unreadable.
Danny didn't flinch.
"Ah. I see the Lazarus Pit hasn't improved your taste in entrances," he said dryly.
Ra's smiled thinly. "Danyal."
"Ra'shole."
A flicker of irritation.
"You've grown," the Demon's Head remarked. "But not matured."
"You still talking like a rejected Shakespeare villain?
That's cute."
Ra's let the insult slide, stepping closer. "I heard of your little confrontation with Talia. I assumed you'd grown into a shadow, scurrying under false names in lesser cities."
Danny leaned lazily against a bench, entirely unthreatened. "Nope. Grew into a king, actually."
Ra's paused. "A king?"
Danny's grin turned cold. Eerie green light flickered behind his eyes like a storm on the edge of reality.
"Did you think your League was the only group with ancient power? You threw away a boy and I became a ruler of the dead. So thanks, Dad, for that one-way ticket to character development."
Ra's narrowed his eyes. "You believe ruling dead spirits makes you powerful? You are still but a-"
"Careful." Danny's voice dropped an octave, echoing with something wrong. "Say 'abomination' again and I will show you what I rule. The Zone doesn't take kindly to threats."
The air behind Danny rippled. A green portal flickered faintly into view, howling winds whispering secrets only the dead knew.
"You gave up your claim on me when you let your daughter toss me aside like garbage. My family? They found me. Loved me. Even when I glowed in the
dark and talked to ghosts in my sleep."
Ra's stepped back once, subtle. But Danny caught it.
He stepped forward. "So if you came here thinking I'd fall in line like a good little heir, think again. I don't
want your League. I don't want your name. And if you so much as breathe near Maddie Fenton or her family
-my family-I will unmake you in ways not even your precious Lazarus Pit can fix."
The green light flared behind him-taller, jagged with power.
Ra's met his eyes-and saw the truth.
This was no scared child.
This was the Ghost King, the ruler of a realm he could never hope to touch.
"...Very well," Ra's said quietly, his voice like steel cooling. "You have chosen your path."
"And you chose to be irrelevant. We're both happy.
Now get off my lawn."
Ra's vanished without another word.
And when the winds died down, the park was quiet again.
Danny exhaled and sat back on the bench, muttering, "God I hate family reunions."0
Danny and Damian are related, with a twist.
Danny is the son of Talia Al Ghul, however he is NOT the son of Bruce Wayne. Ra’s has had his eyes on various people across the world that have either impressed him or show a unique skill set that he’d like to have. One such person was under the both categories and he got Talia to collect a DNA sample and as a result Danny was born.
This was before Bruce’s time with the League by a few years, but very quickly Danny was not meeting expectations. And by the time Bruce did show up Ra’s had lost all interest in Danny, moving on to better things.
Talia always hated Danny because she was forced to have him with a man who she never liked in the first place. Furthermore, because his skillset was lacking she found that even more reason for her distain. In her eyes, he wasn’t worth even considering her blood.
Danny, knowing that he was doomed if he didn’t make an escape, left the league sometime around when Bruce was moving up the ranks and was making waves within the organization. Perfect timing honestly, any attention he might have had was quickly gone when this prodigy showed up.
Danny escaped the League and went into hiding quickly after, settling on a rural area of the United States after bouncing around countries for a few months. This was mainly because Jasmine Fenton saw a young boy pick pocketing strangers while her family was visiting Chicago and scolded him. Her mother and father saw the boy and also lectured him to which Danny responded it was his only option (he was trying to get this loud family off his back so he could sneak away). Eventually the Fentons decide that if he has nowhere to go he might as well go with us, and Danny decides blending in with a Nuclear Family is the best way to ensure that his peaceful life away from the League stays that way. Oh how little did he know.
Flash forward a few years, Talia, who was visiting Gotham to check on Damian, sees a glimpse of a boy (now man) she thought she had forgotten. Her blood runs cold, if this abomination is in Gotham then her son is likely in danger and she would never let anything happen to Damian.
#dp x dc#talia al ghul#talia Al Ghul bashing#Danny is a bitter bitter boy.#good parents jack and maddie#he wants nothing to do with Talia or her offspring#he bares nothing hateful towards Damian of course.#but he can't forgive Talia.#ra's al ghul#ghost king danny#zhelin-thames
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Seeds of the Father
{Read on AO3}{Chapter 1}
Chapter 2
Can You Look at a Seed and Count the Number of Apples?
Time passed as time often does: slowly, day by day, hour by hour until you look back and realize months have passed without noticing them going by.
Danyal Al Ghul and Madeline Fenton took a trip to Arkansas to visit Maddie's friend, Alicia. Alicia, Maddie had explained on the trip over, had been the one to help her escape the League in the first place. She had the skills to craft a new identity, and she had created the paperwork making them legally sisters. She lives off the grid since she's wanted by the FBI for doing some extralegal things to their databases. Two weeks later Daniel Fenton came back to Amity Park. He was the officially adopted son of Madeline and Jack Fenton. Well, as far as the US government was concerned.
Fall turned to winter. If Daniel was cold before, he was freezing now. Maddie bought him a warm red hoodie to wear, and he hardly ever took it off. It was easy to hide his wakizashi in the baggy jacket.
The arrival of winter also made Danny miss his brother more. Whenever he felt particularly homesick, he would climb up to the observation deck to look at the stars. Sometimes Jazz would come up and sit with him. She says it's because she needs air, but Danny suspects she does it to keep an eye on him. She had become very protective of him ever since the first time she saw him have a nightmare.
Some nights they would sit quietly as the sky slowly rotated above them. Some nights Jazz would tell him about her newest thesis. Some nights Danny would tell Jazz a story about the constellations. And on some rare nights when the wind blew just right Danny would tell Jazz a story from his past.
This night in the middle of December Jazz sat on the cold metal next to her adopted brother and watched the sky with him.
"Tell me about Perseus again?" She said after a half-hour of silence. Danny hadn't looked away from the constellation that whole time.
It took a moment for him to start speaking, and when he did his voice was quiet. "Perseus was the demigod son of Zeus and Danae, the daughter of the king of Argos. Because of a prophecy, the king had his daughter and grandson cast into the sea. A fisherman rescued them and took them to his island. The fisherman raised Perseus as his own son. When he became a man the king of the island sent him to kill the Gorgon, Medusa. He beheaded her while she slept." Danny stopped talking here.
Jazz knew there was more to the story, and some nights Danny would tell the whole epic tale. But tonight isn't that night. They were quiet for another long moment. It was getting late and she had school in the morning, but Jazz could tell that something was on Danny's mind. She was going to be here if he wanted to talk. After a while, Danny's watch started beeping. He took a second to glance at it before sighing.
"It's my birthday. I'm nine now."
Jazz startled. "What? Today?"
"Yes, today," Danny said with a soft look. "We would always stay up until midnight on our birthday."
Jazz stilled. On the rare occasion that Danny talked about his past he'd sometimes use the plural 'we' or 'our' instead of the singular 'I' or 'my'. This was the first time he had said it intentionally.
"We'd talk about what we wanted to do that year. Things we wanted Mother or Grandfather to teach us until we fell asleep. Mother would take us into town and we'd get hot Gulab Jamun."
Danny stopped talking, so after a minute Jazz risked a question. "Who is we?"
"Me and Damian, my twin brother."
"You have a brother." The statement left her mouth with a breath that fogged in the cold air. "He's still…there?"
"Yes. He will start training to be Grandfather's heir this year." Danny said a little sadly.
"Does mom know?"
"No. I haven't told anyone about Damian."
Jazz was torn. She was happy that Danny had trusted her with this information, but at the same time, she didn't like the thought of any child, let alone her little brother's brother, being trained to inherit a league of assassins. "If mom knew, she'd do everything in her power to get him out."
Danny blew out a breath and watched as the mist dissipated in the air before he spoke. "That's why I can't tell her. Grandfather will kill her, and you and Jack. Probably all your friends at school, too, just for good measure. He won't kill Damian. He needs an heir."
"Mom would say it's an acceptable risk."
Danny was quiet for a long time. Jazz was almost certain he was done talking for the night when he spoke up again.
"He thinks I'm dead. If he finds out I'm not, he'll try to kill me."
"What? Why?"
"Grandfather needs an heir. One heir. He decided we were old enough to begin preparing, so he had us fight. I won, but when it came time to finish the fight, I couldn't. I couldn't kill my brother."
“But, that’s a good thing, right? That you couldn’t kill him.”
“I beat him in a deathmatch and let him live. It’s like saying ‘I could kill you, but you aren’t worth my time.’ He would kill me, just to restore his honor.” Danny rubbed his arms. It could have been from the cold, but Jazz suspected it was something else. To test her theory she gently placed her hand on his shoulder. He tensed for a few seconds before melting under the touch. She wrapped her arms around her little brother and held him as we went practically boneless against her.
They were quiet for a long time until Jazz spoke up. “Do you want to know what I want to do this year? I want to find your brother and make sure he’s safe. No child should have to go through what you two have gone through.”
“I want that, too.” Danny said after a long moment, and if his voice was thick and tears were soaking into Jazz’s shirt? Well, she wasn’t going to say anything.
***
Jazz didn't tell Maddie about Damian, but she did tell her about his birthday. This was obvious when he came down for breakfast to the family sitting around the table, a bowl of golden brown balls of fried dough topped with almond slivers sitting in simple syrup sat in the middle of the table, the centerpiece of the breakfast
"Happy birthday, Danny!" Maddie said when she caught sight of him.
"You made Gulab Jamun." He said simply, glancing at Jazz who had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "Thank you."
"Of course, honey." Maddie said, spooning two pieces of the dish into a bowl for him. As if going out of one's way to prepare a dish for someone's birthday when you've only known them for a few months was just what one does. Danny sat at the table and took a bite. It was delicious. The sweet melted in his mouth and rose and cardamom filled his senses. A warmth bloomed in his chest right beside a yawning chasm. He wanted his brother with him to enjoy their birthday dish together.
Danny came to the conclusion then and there. He would find Damian, and he would save him. Even if his brother hated him for it.
***
Jazz had been correct when she had said Maddie would have been horrified if she knew about Damian. Except, she was more than horrified, she was enraged. They started looking immediately, but it seemed in the months after Danny left Talia had disappeared with Damian and no one knew where they had gone.
Danny and Maddie both kept their ears to the ground for any mention of Talia or Damian, but there was nothing. For a year and a half they searched with nothing to show for it until the mystery was solved on Twitter, of all places.
Bruce Wayne's Secret Love Child?
Under the headline was a blurry picture taken from a distance of Bruce Wayne getting into a car with a black haired child that Danny recognized immediately. Damian was safe with Father. He made it out on his own.
This was good, he told himself. Damian was safe, he didn't need Danny to save him.
He didn't need Danny.
He tried to ignore the pain that thought caused him.
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Adoption (part 2)
A gift for @a-flower-lover! This wound up being more along the lines of vignettes... Little snapshots into Danny’s life after being adopted by Clockwork. I hope that’s ok! (PART 1)
.
Mr. Lancer had met Charles Worth before, albeit briefly. The man had fostered a number of Casper High students and with that responsibility came parent-teacher conferences. He had struck Mr. Lancer as being steady and reliable, if, perhaps, impersonal, despite his predilection for clocks and ominous announcements. A decent foster parent, if not... ideal.
Mr. Worth just didn't seem to connect with his fosters, although he certainly didn't neglect them. Then, too, were the persistent rumors that his home was haunted.
Alright. So, Mr. Lancer didn't think Charles Worth was really a children person. Oh, he was a good person! It took one to do well as a foster parent, but... yeah.
Which was why the scene in front of him surprised him so much. Not the who of it, but the what.
The who was Daniel Fenton and Charles Worth waiting outside the office. The what was smiling and having a conversation. True, Mr. Fenton's smile looked like it was pasted on over several layers of anxiety, but it was genuine.
"Mr. Worth, Mr. Fenton?" he said, tamping down his surprise. "Come on in."
"Hi," said Mr. Fenton, his voice hoarse.
Mr. Worth smiled and nodded, pushing him up with his cane.
But Mr. Fenton must have noticed the curious look Mr. Lancer was giving him. "I knew Cl- Uh. Mr. Worth before this." He winced and smiled widely to cover it up. "So, uh, make up work? Since I missed the past week?"
"Yes, well, circumstances being what they are," aka his parents trying to murder him in public, in broad daylight (and didn't that give Mr. Lancer a chill?), "your teachers have put together a few packets for you to look over this weekend. They should get you more or less up to speed with where your classes are. I'm also willing to stay after school, to help you with anything you've missed in my classes."
.
Jazz knocked on the door of the Worth house. She had been made aware, via various supernatural (she did not particularly appreciate writing suddenly appearing on her fogged-up bathroom mirror) and mundane (Danny did have her phone number) means, that the man known as Charles Worth was actually the ghost known as Clockwork.
How this had occurred was not entirely clear to her. She assumed ghost powers, specifically time travel, were involved somehow.
But, to be honest, that didn't really matter to her. It was secondary, less than.
What was important here was that she hadn't been legally allowed to see her little brother in over a month. To keep her parents from contacting him. To keep her from letting her parents near him. Because they were legally barred from seeing him.
Because they had tried to kill him.
Jazz planned on never seeing her parents again, as soon as she got all of her and Danny's things from their house.
But now that prohibition had been lifted, because Clockwork had forced through what had to be the speediest adoption in the history of adoptions, and Danny was now legally his son. In the eyes of both humans and ghosts. Which was... Well. Danny seemed to be excited about it, anyway. He'd looked up to Clockwork for a while, from what he told Jazz.
Internally, Jazz had more than a bit of trepidation. She didn't know what adoption meant to ghosts, didn't have any context for it. And ghosts, even the good ones, even Danny, tended to be... obsessive. Extreme. She wasn't sure how that would translate when it came to interpersonal relationships.
The door creaked open, ever so slowly, the squeak it made grating on her eardrums. At first, it appeared to have opened on its own, then a hand gripped the edge of the door, and Clockwork, in human guise, leaned out from behind it.
Jazz raised an eyebrow.
Clockwork raised one right back. "This house is haunted, you know," he said.
Okay, never mind. The only thing she had to worry about was the fact that her brother and his mentor both had terrible senses of humor.
"Hi, Jazz!"
Being used to having a half-ghost brother, Jazz only yelped a little bit at his unexpected appearance behind her. Then she sighed and ruffled his hair. He hugged her and then bounced over the lintel into the house.
"Come on! I want to show you my room! It's so cool!" His voice became fainter as he went farther into the house, until his last exclamation was an eerie whisper.
Jazz looked at Clockwork as she stepped inside. "Is he doing that on purpose?"
Clockwork smiled blandly. "I am very fond of the acoustics in this house."
She looked at her surroundings with a skeptical eye. "It seems... dark in here."
"We are ghosts," said Clockwork. "Daniel is very excited to show you his room, by the way."
"He's human, too, don't forget," said Jazz.
"I won't."
.
The house was creepy.
Really creepy.
This was coming from someone who had spent most of her life living under the same roof as two ghost-obsessed mad scientists.
But Danny seemed to enjoy it, and he was the one living here. It wasn't like there was anything wrong with the house. Or anything in the house. It was just... off.
Danny was half-ghost, however, so maybe this was something he needed. Perhaps not all of his peppiness could be attributed to being the heck away from his murderous former parents.
Even so. Jazz had a duty, both as a big sister and an aspiring psychologist.
"I already read it," said Clockwork, setting a cup of tea down in front of her.
"What?"
"The book you were about to give me. I've already read it. And a number of others. I am not the kind of person who goes into things unprepared."
Danny rolled into the kitchen on the ceiling. This was easy to ignore. After her life, an Exorcist reference made by her over-excited younger brother, was, well. Underwhelming.
(Okay, she was a little distracted, but only by his glee.)
"Well," she said. "That's good."
.
"I know this house is out of the way," said Clockwork, craning his neck to look up at his coworker, "but you are rather conspicuous."
"Hm. Am I?" asked Pandora, craning her neck down to look at her comparatively tiny colleague.
"Yes. At that size, humans with average eyesight will be able to see you from town."
Pandora looked out over the trees. "Interesting," she said, mildly. "Do you think the ghost hunters will come?"
"You've spoken to Daniel."
"Yes. He stopped by earlier today, on his way to visit Mattingly. Although, I suppose you knew that already."
"Indeed I did. May I ask, is it your intention to lure the ghost hunters here, fight them, defeat them, and then leave them just close enough to here to constitute a breach of their terms of bail and the restraining order against them?"
"I am not terribly well-versed in human law," said Pandora, "but, why, yes. That is exactly what I'm doing. Best to get it done while Daniel is visiting friends, isn't it?"
"Yes. If you had done this while he was here, I would be significantly more annoyed." Clockwork smiled the sanguine smile of a parental figure who would commit murder if their child was upset.
Pandora returned a matching grin, one that promised retribution against persons who had harmed said child in the past. "Please, Clockwork. You know me better than that. I wouldn't subject him to being in the presence of those fools."
"Good," said Clockwork, eyes glinting.
.
"Hey, Clockwork? Do you know why there were police cars driving down the- Oh. Hello?" He stopped at the sight of an unfamiliar woman sitting at the dinning room table, next to Clockwork. He blinked and tilted his head to the side. "Wait. Pandora?"
"Perceptive," said the superficially human olive-skinned woman. "You seemed so happy when you stopped by, earlier. I thought I would come check in on you."
"You didn't have to," said Danny, beaming.
"Pandora has been trying to convince me to set her up as one of my relatives," said Clockwork, rolling his eyes. "Would you care for a cup of tea, Daniel?"
"Umm," said Danny, dubiously. "I'll try one, I guess. Does that mean you'll be my aunt?"
Pandora smiled. "Why, yes, it does."
Clockwork groaned theatrically.
.
"Ah," said Mr. Lancer, at the next parent-teacher conference. "Are you Mr. Worth's wife?"
"No," said Pandora, grinning. "I'm his sister."
Mr. Lancer looked back and forth between the two very different-looking entities. "I... see."
"We're adopted," said Clockwork.
"Oh! Alright then. Now, about Daniel..."
.
It was a bit strange to see Danny with so much energy, Sam reflected. Strange, but good.
It just went to show how drained he had become over time, how much the constant ghost attacks and worry, all the lies and stress and impossible expectations had worn away at him over time. She hadn't seen her friend this happy since freshman year. If that.
On the other hand...
"Dude," said Tucker. "Your house is spooky. And this is coming from someone who's been inside a literal mad science lab."
Danny rolled his eyes. "Mad science labs are campy, not spooky. Besides, you knew coming in that this house was haunted." He draped himself over the back of the couch, rolling until he was 'sitting' upside-down. "Anyway, what kind of movie do you want to watch? We've got a bunch, because Clockwork apparently collects media from doomed timelines."
"He's got a hobby?" asked Sam.
"Yeah, three," said Danny. "Gardening- you should talk to him about that, by the way, I think he'd like it- baking, and alternate timeline movies. And some books, too, I think. He's got a huge library back in Long Now. I've read like. Two books from it."
Clockwork's voice floated in from the other room. "You've read significantly more than that, Daniel."
"I guess," said Danny, doubtfully. He flopped off the couch, picked himself up, and started prodding at a shelf of movies. "This is from a timeline where the Earth got beaned by a massive asteroid. It's, like, a romcom, but it was made when everyone knew the asteroid was coming. This one is, uh, this is actually a dramatization of real events, apparently, but their timeline split from ours in like the fifties, so the events are pretty wild." He waved the DVD at them. "It's surreal?"
"How'd they die?" asked Tucker.
"Wacky superscience. No, really. Irradiated the entire planet."
"How do you know?" asked Sam.
"Oh, Clockwork puts notes on the boxes. He thinks it's interesting. And there does seem to be some correlation between how cursed the movies are and how bad the timeline was. Which maybe shouldn't surprise me? I mean, if they were bad timelines..." He shrugged. "Oh, this is a CGI Lion King. I can tell you: very cursed. Absolutely soulless. And this is from a timeline where copyright laws weren't changed, so Mickey Mouse and a bunch of other stuff was in the public domain."
"Isn't that a good timeline?" joked Sam.
"You'd think so," agreed Danny. "But apartheid in South Africa apparently never stopped, and they got a nuclear bomb, and, well... World War Three."
"Is that like, a domino effect, or...?"
"I'm not sure... Anyway. Uh. Genre?" He clapped his hands together.
Tucker leaned forward. "I want the wildest version of the Matrix you have."
"Ooh, good choice. There are, like, six with Will Smith. I haven't watched them all yet, but I think the one where they've got another sequel and Zion is also a- Wait, I shouldn't spoil it."
"After that, can you see if there's a non-crappy version of Dracula?" asked Sam.
"Sure. I haven't seen one yet, but I will look."
"I have popcorn," said Clockwork, entering the room, "and various baked goods. No dairy."
"You're the best."
.
Clockwork selected a thick blanket from the chest, then teleported himself to the living room to drape it over the three teenagers passed out on the couch. Overall, he found pretending to be human oddly enjoyable, but it could be trying at times. Tedious. All the finicky little motions humans had to go through to do the simplest of things added up over the day.
So, Clockwork tended to ease off of them when no one was watching. It made life easier.
Heh. Life.
(He would say that Daniel's puns were rubbing off on him, but in truth Clockwork's sense of humor had been like that for, well. Eons.)
He put the kitchen in order with an absent wave of his hand, and double-checked the stove out of habit. It wasn't nearly as good as his actual oven, back in Long Now, but it was serviceable.
One of Daniel's friends mumbled in their sleep, and Clockwork looked in on them. Still peaceful. It was good for Daniel to have them here. Beneficial for both his human and ghost halves.
He hummed to himself and patted Daniel's head as he thought about their plans for the weekend. He had arranged for some truly aggravating evangelical missionaries to darken their doorstep. It would do Daniel good to inspire a touch of terror. In an entirely controlled and risk-free way, of course. No matter how unpleasant the people coming were, Clockwork had no intention of harming them, or suggesting anything of the sort.
But, well. They were ghosts. Being feared was soothing.
(Clockwork knew this wasn't what Jasmine meant when she suggested Clockwork engage in family bonding activities with Daniel. But what she didn't know...)
.
"I think my teeth are getting sharper," said Danny, pulling a face at the mirror. "Is that normal?" The last was shouted, to get Clockwork's attention. Intellectually, Danny knew he didn't need to do that, but a lifetime of habit was hard to shake.
"It is difficult to say what is normal for someone like you, but many ghosts do have fangs," said Clockwork. "Including myself."
"Hm," said Danny. "This isn't, like, a ghost puberty thing, is it? Because I already used up most of my evil puberty jokes."
"Oh, only most?" Clockwork slid behind him and started rubbing the tension out of his shoulders.
Danny shrugged. "Eh, give or take. But, seriously."
"No, it isn't a ghost puberty thing."
"Oh, good. Because dealing with one puberty is more than enough."
Clockwork was silent. Danny looked up and met troubled eyes in the mirror.
"Clockwork?"
"Daniel," started Clockwork, before giving Danny an uneasy smile. "Speaking of puberty..."
Danny blanched. "No."
"What?"
"No. Nope. Not doing the talk today, no sir. I got that at school."
"Daniel, as strange as Casper High may be at times, I highly doubt they taught you anything about immortality."
"What."
.
"It's why ghosts put so much forethought into relationships like this," explained Clockwork, careful not to look directly at Daniel's hiding place. "They might last forever. I certainly hope this one does."
"But I don't want to be a teenager forever!" wailed Danny. He had mastered the art of making his voice sound like it was coming from a completely different direction than it actually was.
Clockwork was older than human civilization and had been worshiped as a god by several civilizations. He did not wince at the heartbreak in his child's voice.
"Your shapeshifting abilities should come in after a few years," said Clockwork. "You'll be able to pass as older."
Daniel answered with a moan.
"I must confess, I'm not sure why you are so upset about this. I can see that you are, but could you explain why for me?"
"I don't knoooooowww..."
.
"I don't want everyone to die and leave me alone," admitted Danny, hunched over a carton of ice cream. "I don't want to see my- my people die." He sniffled.
"We don't have to stay in Amity Park if you don't want to," said Clockwork.
Danny shook his head. "No! That's worse," he said, hating how his voice tilted into a whine. "That's- I can't abandon them! I can't- can't miss their time. I just..." He let out a huff of air. "It's hard."
Clockwork wrapped an arm around Daniel's shoulders. "It may not help much," he said, "but people in Amity Park have a much higher chance of becoming ghosts. It's the ectoplasm in the air."
"Promise?" asked Danny.
"Promise. Although, who, exactly, becomes a ghost is outside of my control. All I can tell you is that the people here have a better chance."
Danny leaned against Clockwork. "Thanks," he mumbled. "Clockwork?"
"Yes?"
"You don't think I'm a freak, do you?"
"Of course not."
.
Mr. Lancer squinted down at Daniel Fenton's latest assignment with a mix of appreciation, disbelief, and shame. This was easily the best work he had ever received from Daniel. In fact, it rivaled papers he had received from Jasmine.
It made him wonder- How long had Daniel been suffering? What had Daniel been suffering? He was no expert when it came to abuse, but all teachers had some training, and he knew that abusers tended to escalate, starting with something relatively innocuous and ending with a travesty. For things to progress to attempted murder... What had it started as? When had it begun?
(Could Mr. Lancer have stopped it?)
(That question would haunt him more than any ghost.)
Well, there was a silver lining to this, Mr. Lancer supposed. He had rarely seen two people who got along as well as Daniel and Charles Worth. It was good, he thought, for the man to have someone in his life on a more permanent basis, rather than the revolving door of temporary foster children.
How rapidly the adoption went through was a little odd, but... Mr. Lancer shrugged. Undoubtedly, Mr. Worth had taken the time over his years as a foster parent to familiarize himself with the system, and with Daniel's former parents unfit to be anywhere near children...
He shrugged again and stamped Daniel's paper with an A+.
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I Love You
My fic for day 5 of DP Side Hoes Week (yes I’m a day behind).
Character: Jazz Theme: Hospital
This oneshot exists within my Everything Was White fic series [ao3]. You do NOT have to be following Everything Was White to understand this fic, this one exists as a prequel in the timeline and I give enough context in the text for anyone to be able to understand it.
Okay, enjoy!
---
Jazz sat on the armchair, her gaze blank. Hazy. She hadn’t moved since she sat down some time ago. Time moved without reason, and she wasn’t sure how long it had been. Her back hurt and her lips were chapped, but she hardly noticed her discomfort.
The only thing that mattered was the person laying on the bed before her.
The person she hardly recognized.
Four weeks. That’s how long he had been missing from their lives, that’s how long the Guys in White had him. Twenty-eight days on the dot.
She could never forget his eyes as he was dragged out the door. They were wild, desperately staring down their parents who were both pinned down by government agents with guns trained to their heads. He screamed, struggling against his captures.
But it wasn’t enough.
Because in the end, he was thrown in the back of a white van. All while Jazz stood on the stairs doing nothing.
She should have freed him. She could have helped. But she was too weak.
Too weak.
Her eyes stung, and she wanted to cry. Break down. Sob. But she had already used up her stock of tears hours ago, when she finally saw him for the first time since he’d be transferred out of critical care.
He was frail, tiny. Nothing but skin and bones. His body was scarred, torn, encased in gauze and casts. Doctors fluttered about, talking in hushed tones as they analyzed her brother’s body. They tried not to show it, but Jazz knew they were baffled by him.
There was talk about his injuries. He hadn’t woken up yet, at least not completely, but Jazz was already told of the more...drastic injuries.
The Y scar on his chest.
The paralysis.
The starvation.
No one knew what the permanent effects were going to be. No one knew how he was going to fair once he woke up. But there was one thing they all knew for certain, a truth that none of the Fentons had said out loud yet:
Danny was not going to be the same anymore.
She crumbled, allowing her head to fall into her hands. Apparently, she still had more tears to give. A sob tore its way from her throat, pulling with it a wave of emotions that Jazz had just spent the last few hours desperately trying to repress.
She was tired. So, so tired. And yet, this nightmare refused to end.
“Danny, I—I’m so sorry.” Jazz’s voice was raw. The naked truth was hanging right there in front of her, the consequences of her complete failure.
She should have been there for him during the ghost fight. The one between him and Skulker that ultimately led to his revelation right there high in the skies in front of the entire town. She could have helped him.
She should have known the Guys in White would then come surround their house and take him.
She should have tried harder to find him and break him out of the government compound. They tried so hard, but they couldn’t find the stupid building.
She should have practiced her questions better in court. Maybe then the jury would have decided sooner. She could have gotten him released before he was hurt so bad.
“I’m sorry.”
He didn’t respond.
“I love you so much, Danny. I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t respond.
---
“You alright there, son?” Jack asked. He tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
It didn’t seem to matter. Jazz doubted Danny even heard their father’s question. She was honestly questioning if he even realized they were in the room.
His eyes wandered around the room as if he were still trying to take in the walls of the hospital. He woke up four days ago, and yet every day had been the same blank wandering gaze.
Jazz hoped it was just the pain medication the hospital was giving him. She desperately clung onto the belief that her brother would snap out of it one day and would come home and he would be back to normal.
Back to how he was before.
“Your mother and I are going to meet with the surgeon.” Jack put an arm around Maddie, pulling her into his side.
Her face was white, streaked with red as if she’d been crying recently, and the bags under her eyes had never been so pronounced. But Jazz couldn’t blame her. After all, she probably looked more or less the same.
“Stay with Danny, alright? We’ll come grab you after.”
“Sure, Dad,” Jazz said, putting on a smile she hoped was comforting.
Her mother muttered something that Jazz didn’t catch, and then both parents were gone.
And Jazz was alone. With Danny.
Again.
She turned back to face him. The doctors had said that he’d sustained significant brain damage, and they weren’t sure yet how much communication he would be able to do. He was too drugged up still, too out of it.
He couldn’t speak, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t understand her.
Or maybe that was her hopeful side talking again. She shouldn’t get her hopes up. She would only be hurt in the end.
“Hey, Danny,” Jazz tried. Her voice was thin. Dry. She tried to wet her lips and spoke again. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I hope you’re comfortable. If you were wondering, you broke your spine. I mean, I’m sure you already knew that but—” Her voice cracked. “—you know. That’s why you, um, might be uncomfortable right now. It’s the brace.”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at her.
Just continued staring at the ceiling.
Jazz wondered if anything was going through his mind. If he had any questions. She would if she were Danny.
She tried to imagine the sort of things he would say. His voice, crackling through the throes of puberty, as he poked fun at her in that annoying way only a brother could accomplish. She tried to envision a world where he could still do that.
And she tried not to think about the fact that there was a good chance that she’d never hear his voice again.
“Your SCI was incomplete, you know. So there’s still a chance…” Jazz shook her head.
There she was getting hopeful again.
“Everyone really missed you, Danny. I—I really missed you.”
He blinked slowly. In her imagination, Jazz heard him say “I missed you too.”
“I love you.”
He didn’t respond.
---
“What band are we in the mood for today?” Jazz asked, scrolling through her playlist.
Danny was starting to come to. He seemed to be able to hold eye contact, albeit not for very long, and his minute facial expressions showed at least some understanding of what was happening around him.
Although, he still hadn’t spoken yet.
Jazz glanced brightly down at him. Now that she knew he was conscious of her presence, she couldn’t afford to show up at the hospital in sweats with her tear-stained face anymore. She had to be there for him. She had to be strong.
Maybe she had been too weak to help him before. Maybe back then, she had failed him.
But she would be damned if she wasn’t strong enough to help him now.
“What do you think? MCR? Blink-182?” she asked. “I got these band names from Sam, by the way. So if she lied to me about what music you listen to now, don’t blame me.”
Danny just stared at her with his owl-ish expression.
“Here, if you want, you can choose.” Jazz held her phone screen out in front of him, watching as his eyebrows scrunched up ever so slightly as he gazed up at the screen.
Jazz felt her smile falter for a split second before she pulled her phone away and straightened herself up on her chair.
She had to be strong.
“It’s okay, I’ll just choose one.” She tapped the screen and set her phone down.
The sound of over-compressed guitars filled the tiny bluetooth speaker on the windowsill, and Jazz beamed down at Danny, waiting for that tiny flicker of recognition to hit his face.
And, to her delight, some of the fog in his eyes momentarily lifted. He looked over to Jazz as if he were seeing her for the first time, the shock and disbelief seeping through the blank slate that was his expression.
Jazz was hardly able to keep the glee out of her voice. “You like it?”
His eyes flickered between Jazz and the bluetooth speaker. Back and forth again before settling back on the ceiling.
“Well, I’ll have to thank Sam for the recommendation later! She can’t wait to see you, you know. The doctors are only allowing family in your room right now, but maybe next week if you’re feeling up to it, Sam and Tucker can stop by. I don’t want to make any promises right now, but you never know.”
Danny’s eyes slowly traveled around the ceiling.
“Are you thirsty?” Jazz asked. “Hungry? Well, you’re probably not hungry. Doctors have been monitoring your nutrient intake a lot. I’m glad, too, because you have some color in your face again.”
His eyes shut, and a content smile twitched on his face.
Jazz couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked so peaceful.
“I love you, Danny.”
He didn’t respond.
---
Danny was home now. That should have been a good thing.
It should have been.
And it was. In so many ways, it was wonderful having him home again.
But in so many other ways, it wasn’t.
Jazz had been under some illusion that once he made it home, things would go back to normal. Sure, he would be in a wheelchair until his PT started, and he might not be able to turn into a ghost for a few weeks either, but her brother would be home.
Except, Danny never came home. Physically, he did. But mentally he was still trapped somewhere far away.
He was talking now at least. He’d started talking the week before he’d left the hospital. He wasn’t able to speak in full sentences, at least not without pausing, and he wasn’t able to really understand long sentences either, but this was a start.
Jazz wanted to hope that things would get better, but hope was a dangerous drug.
After all, even though he’d started speaking again, he still refused to talk about what happened to him. Anytime Jazz would try to bring the conversation up, he’d clam up and close off for the rest of the day.
And that hurt. It hurt so bad. She so desperately wanted to be there and support him, to help him talk through the trauma he’d experienced, but he just didn’t want to.
But that was okay. It had to be okay. She had to be strong.
She stood in front of his door, pausing only to compose herself before knocking.
He didn’t acknowledge her knock, but Jazz wasn’t expecting him too. He was trying to isolate himself, and Jazz wasn’t going to let him.
She’d already failed him once.
“Good morning, Danny!” Jazz bursted into the room, her voice chipper despite the fact that she hadn’t slept last night.
She doubted that Danny did either.
Danny was lying on top of his comforter, already dressed. Their mom must have gotten him situated before shutting herself down in the lab.
Their parents seemed to be doing that a lot lately.
“Come on, get up. I come bearing an activity!”
“Too early,” Danny grumbled.
Jazz ignored him, sauntering into the room brandishing a large, easy piece jigsaw puzzle she’d just ran out to buy that morning.
It was hard to find one for kids that wasn’t either a princess castle or a race car scene. Fortunately, the store had one on sale that had colorful, cartoon baby ghosts covering the image.
“Either you get up, or I drag you up. Either way, you’re doing this puzzle with me.”
“Puzzle?” Danny asked.
Jazz tried not to stare as he struggled upright, only swooping in to set his pillows upright behind him. “Yeah, puzzle.”
She set the box down in front of him, pulling off the lid and revealing the large pieces in front of him.
“That’s...so Boring.”
“Well, the doctors still want you avoiding screens for a little while longer. I figured this was better than staring at the wall.”
Danny eyed the box, his face impassive.
“Here, wait.” She went out into the hallway, grabbing a large piece of cardboard from the wall. “I brought something to make the puzzle on. Figured it would be easier than the mattress.”
“Okay.” He picked up one of the pieces, inspecting it slowly as if he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
“So…” Jazz plopped herself down on the mattress next to Danny and put the cardboard over their laps. “What do you think we should do first?”
Danny gazed blankly down, his eyes trailing between the cardboard and the puzzle piece in his hand. He blinked, and then put the puzzle piece down on the cardboard.
“Okay, we can start with that one!” Jazz chirped.
“No…” Danny ran his hand through his hair. “No that’s not...need to sort.”
“Oh?” Jazz grabbed another piece from the box. “So what should I do with this one then?”
Danny gazed quizzically over at Jazz, grabbing the piece to inspect it. “Edge,” he finally said, setting the piece down on the opposite side of the board from the first piece.
“So we’re sorting the edge pieces from the regular pieces?”
Danny hummed, grabbing another piece from the box.
“Sounds like a good plan!”
They worked together in near silence after that, Jazz only stopping every so often when she could feel Danny’s attention slipping to ask him to help her sort a piece. It was almost cute how determined he was to complete the task correctly. It almost reminded Jazz of the quiet determination that would slip onto his features in the moments just before he transformed into Phantom.
Solving the puzzle was a whole different beast. If Jazz were honest, she wasn’t sure if they would have been able to finish in one sitting. Danny still tired far too rapidly throughout the day, and he still slept for more hours than he was awake.
But finally Danny snapped the last piece into place, completing their simple blob ghost picture.
“Nice job!” Jazz put her hand up for a high five.
Danny blinked, slowly processing the motion, before his brain caught up and he gave a little smirk, a tiny eye roll, but met Jazz’s hand all the same.
She put the cardboard with the now completed puzzle on the floor before sitting back against the fluffy pillows. Breathing out, she allowed herself to sink back into the cushions for just a moment.
She was so tired.
Her brain swirled, and she wanted to sink deeper into the darkness. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t allowed to.
“Are you asleep?” Danny asked.
“No.”
“Oh. Okay.”
A quiet trepidation settled over the pair. Jazz could feel the unspoken questions hanging in the air like forbidden fruit ripe for picking. But the apples were just out of reach, and she knew the branches wouldn’t sink lower until Danny was ready.
But he had to come home first. He would never be ready to tell her what happened until he finally came back to them. And Jazz didn’t know how long that would take.
“I love you,” Jazz said.
Danny didn’t respond.
---
Thanks for reading!
#danny phantom#dp side hoes week 2021#everything was white#no beta!!#my writing#phicc#i'll probs go back like next week and actually edit this oneshot#but not rn during the event week
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huh.
Kind of...want some backstory? Elaboration? There's a lot of ways to get to "my two loving husbands and one is a clone".
Does Vlad think so little of Jack that a "terrible" Jack for him is just a baseline clone and he didn't actually make a worse one? One with a bad temper or that has brain fog? Simulate a terminal illness?
(how do you make a person worse? in the aims of divorce? People deteriorate all the time from illness and marriages still last, what would Vlad consider a "final straw"? What does Vlad know/value about relationships?)
(joke answer: same error for Danielle happens with Jack. It's "Jackie" now and the hazmat suit still fits the same, and the kids have 2 moms.)
And now Vlad has a clone...how do we do the swap? Does he kidnap Jack and keep him in cryo? Throw him in the Ghost Zone? (honestly kind of want to see Jack meeting with Frostbite. Science Yeti's are fun.)
Was it just "swap" while Jack is working on his Ghost Portal? Or does Jack or Clone!Jack think he got trapped in evil Ghost Plasmius Lab and he had to "fight" to get out?
And if he sees the Clones of Phantom...does his Paternal Instincts kick in and rescue a teenager that looks like his son? Or do they both actually believe that they are the "real" Danny and Jack Fenton and team up to get out?
Or one or the other suspects that they're not actually "real" and is just putting up a front? (Jack knowing he's a Clone but also knowing he can't leave a defenseless teenager in the Lair of a Ghost. is killing me.)
But also after All of That, Jasmine opening up the house door, deep sigh. "Danny. Found out what Plasmius did."
Vlad clones Jack. His goal was to essentially make a shitty version of Jack to replace the real Jack, so that Maddie would leave him. Instead, he basically gave Maddie a second, just as loving husband, to dote on her.
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Taking Control
Prompt by Dekalkomania for Phic Phight 2021. Danny hasn't been feeling himself, blacking out and having strange dreams. Unbeknownst to him, Freak Show's staff was not the only artifact that could control ghosts. Even worse, Jack and Maddie are the ones who get their hands on that object.
"I'm not sure Jack," Maddie murmured, distrust in her eyes. She picked up the object tenderly, examining it. It was some kind of orb, about the size of her palm. Shining red and encased in an intricate wire structure. Even through her gloves a cold temperature leeched out from within it. "This is a great opportunity Maddie! How often do we get our hands on something like this?" It seemed nothing could dampen her husband's elation when faced with such an interesting project. "Of course, it is wonderful to find an artefact like this, and I will take great pleasure in examining it thoroughly, I just wonder how dangerous it could be." She delicately placed the orb in a glass box and slid a heavy metal lid over. She crouched down beside it, staring at it through the glass. There was something... compelling about it. Maddie didn't believe in magic or superstition, she only put stock in that which could be clearly defined and measured with science. Ghosts residing in latter category. This object though, well, it was like nothing the scientist had ever seen before; she had only read about the like in damp ridden, old textbooks on the occult. The swirling crimson pattern seemed almost to move as she stared.
"Let's get this show on the road," she said, reaching for the controls next to her. Maddie deftly flicked several switches on the machine beside the glass case and twisted a dial, causing it to generate a smooth hum. Jack was almost bouncing up and down with excitement. Maddie smirked at his child-like joy whilst maintaining her concentration on the equipment. She had no idea what kind of results they would uncover. The object began to shiver in its cage and Jack observed the fluctuating results, taking notes. In her mind, Maddie dredged up all her limited memories on studying ecto-artefacts such as these and their possible abilities. She hoped it would be some kind of device they could use in their ghost hunting, perhaps to capture, or control the spectral beings? Wouldn't it be great to find something that could properly capture that ghost kid menace: Danny Phantom?
*
The infinite fog rolled towards him in voluminous banks, the insubstantial trees beside him were withered and twisted. Harsh rain lashed down, stinging his face and eyes. The dark earth trembled and cracked beneath his feet. A disembodied voice drifted through the haze. "What?" The rasping words crept out, "how did you get in here?" A face appeared, mouth malformed, twisted and confused. Glass eyes like an insects shimmered in and out of sight. A scent of fear suffused the air. Glowing ruby trails traced an outline around a familiar room. His lips moved of their own accord. "You requested it of me," came out in a drawl. "Turn it off! Now!" Before he could react, complete darkness fell.
*
Nightmares were nothing new to Danny. Something about having died, facing horrible creatures everyday and fighting fearsome ghosts did that to a boy. But this dream, this nightmare last night... it was... different. He shivered in his bed, pyjamas sodden with sweat. He tried to recall what the dream was about. He couldn't remember anything particularly scary about it, in fact, he could only clearly see one image, imprinted on his mind. His mother, wearing her usual blue hazmat suit and red safety goggles. Danny shook of the vestiges of the dream and swung himself out of bed. It probably didn't mean anything important.
*
"Hey Danny-o!" The jovial voice greeted him as he walked into the kitchen. The large, blockish figure of his dad bundled across the room, obviously excited about something. "Hey, Dad," Danny responded, in a monotone voice that was his attempt at expressing his disinterest in whatever crazy experiment his dad was working on. Needless to say, his dad wouldn't pick up on anything as subtle as that. "Got some big stuff we're investigating today! Can't wait to show you!" His white teeth gleamed as he spoke. "Now Jack, don't go getting Danny intrigued. You know we can't show it just yet, not until we know what it does," his mum calmly chimed in as she finished her bowl of cereal. That actually made this project more interesting to Danny. His parents were not the kind of scientists to adhere to any kind of health and safety, or to purposefully shut him out like this. Danny had been allowed full access around their laboratory and usually informed about all of their work since he'd been about ten years old. "So," he said, trying to show a natural curiosity whilst busying himself making breakfast, "what does it do?" "Well, it's basically-" his dad started, but was abruptly cut off by his wife standing up and sharply clapping him on the shoulder. "Basically sweetie, we don't know... yet. And we couldn't tell you anything because we don't know, right Jack?" She turned to look at him pointedly, hand still resting on his shoulder. Danny sat down and started to eat, not surprised. He would have to find out about this experiment another way. "Yes... yes of course." His dad grinned with the secret and shot a sly, deliberate wink to Danny. "Danny, would you be a dear and wash up our dishes from breakfast? We've really got to get to the lab," his mum asked. Before she had finished speaking, a strange rush of feeling rose up in Danny, his stomach turned over like he had butterflies, his hair stood on end. Without meaning to, Danny got up quickly, dropping his spoon which clattered noisily in his bowl. He snatched his parent's dishes from the table and began cleaning them in the kitchen sink. "Yes," the one syllable word dropped out of his mouth, in a voice that didn't seem like his own. It was as if he was watching someone else washing up, with his arms, from the confines of his own head. "Oh... thanks sweetie!" His mum remarked, in a surprised tone, "it would be nice if you reacted like this every time your father and I asked you to do something!" Danny's head nodded, his eyes in the sink and on the task, unable to look anywhere else. He heard his parents footsteps leave the kitchen and go downstairs to the basement. His thoughts tumbled over in his mind, his vision growing darker around the edges. This sensation, it was too familiar. Then, as swiftly as it had come over him, he was back to normal. The dishes lay clean and dripping on the draining board. Danny slumped down in a chair, unnerved. What was that all about? He ran his hands through his inky black hair, trying to make sense of the experience. His mum had offhandedly asked him to do something, and he had been somehow forced to do it. Remnants of last nights dream came back to his mind, involuntarily. He racked his brains for an answer, for the familiarity of the sensation to explain itself. This must have had something to do with his parents' 'secret project'. He would have to go and investigate this for himself, now. Just as he reached for the power within him to turn into his ghost side, he blacked out.
*
"Maddie... Maddie... Maddie!" Jack shouted, either ecstatic or extremely anxious. Probably both. "Shhh Jack! I know," Maddie hissed through clenched teeth. She was gently shuddering with anticipation. Here it was, just as she had imagined, the ghost kid. In their laboratory! Dozens of mechanical objects whirred and ticked around the scientists. "Are you getting this data?" "Sure am," Jack whispered, pen flying across the page of his notebook, eyes darting to and from various devices and the floating ghostly child in the centre of the room. Maddie observed the phenomenon. It was, just hanging there, weightlessly, with a blank look on it's face. It's eyes were glazed and still and it wasn't exhibiting any of the usual traits they had associated with the ghost kid, namely being aggressiveness. In fact, it wasn't doing anything at all. The glowing, red artefact shimmered in her hand. It was obviously an ancient object used to summon ghosts. Since the phantom had appeared, the lab had grown cold; Maddie could see her breath drift in the air. In her other hand, she had an ecto-weapon directed at the ghost kid's head. If it noticed this, it made no sign. "What are you doing here?" Maddie asked, more steadily than she felt. "You requested it of me." The chilling voice echoed in the basement and reverberated in her mind. "What are you?" "A ghost." It's head slowly turned to look directly in her eyes. The unblinking, icy blue glare sent a shiver down her spine. She raised her weapon. "A human," it continued. "Now, that's not possible. A human can't be a ghost..." "Your son." These words from the spectre sunk into her chest, heavy. "No... no that can't be. You're not Danny, you're not my Danny. This is obviously a trick." Maddie turned towards her husband imploringly, eyes wide in suspicion. "Yeah, no putrid ectoplasmic manifestation is a son of ours!" Jack bellowed, as if he wasn't afraid, notes and pen forgotten. A solid thunk on the metal floor made them both jump. Maddie's eyes shot down to see she had dropped the artefact in her distress. The ghost seemed to flicker, it's face turning from Maddie, to Jack, then to the room around it. It appeared to regain control of it's limbs, it's mouth noiselessly hanging open. Maddie instinctively charged up the weapon and fired, but was left only with a black, smoking ring on the wall behind where the phantom had been. The lab was suddenly quiet. All of their equipment stood still. Jack moved quickly to her side, comforting her. "Don't worry Maddie, it was just trying to trick us." Maddie said nothing, only remembering in horror the look of fear and confusion on the ghost kid's face before it disappeared. In that one moment, it had looked too much like her son, like Danny.
#Phic Phight 2021#uh oh danny what you gunna do#danny phantom#phicc#fanfic#jack fenton#maddie fenton#mind control#mmm yah boy got some issues now
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if you have any behind-the-scenes takes about the nature has taught fic you wanted to talk abt I would be absolutely /thrilled/ to hear them!
Soooo many oh my gosh.
1) In the first iteration of this story, Danny wasn’t nearly as involved as he is now. I sort of used Mike Crew as a convenient reckless boy baby jail for the first draft, because he wasn’t as developed a personality in my mind. Then, he appeared in a different story idea of mine, affectionately dubbed the Himbois AU, and I ended up developing him extensively there and transplanted a slightly different version of him into this story and his role expanded as a result.
2) Probably the only reason why I kept developing Danny and decided to post this story at all is because I told my Himbois AU to my friend (the one I made mad with last chapter), and she loved it (and Danny in particular), and I kept telling other stories to her, and it made me happy that she liked it and I got to thinking about posting something. Usually I just develop them a lot in my head, write maybe a couple chapters, and then after that the Hyperfixation Bounces To A New Story. The first chapter for nhthcth has been sitting in my Google drive since pre-Covid. So like, she’s the real reason why this fic is out right now.
3) She calls herself the absentee father of this fic, because she has no idea what’s happening and has no part in the actual writing of it (though she did help me make kid!jon more child-like, and she takes full credit for that), but sometimes she stands in the metaphorical doorway and says “are you winning son.” If you leave a comment on a fic there is an extremely high chance I will immediately be texting her about it, we think y’all are hilarious and great and are utterly obsessed with everything y’all say
4) Jon’s personality in this is mostly me foraging around in canon looking for spare parts before I forcibly weld them to other bits of him from canon and drizzle in parts I think would result from the backstory I’ve built. Like, the skepticism from Season 1 had to go, this has been his entire life and there’s no benefit in denying it. And like, he’s been the person going to the Magnus Institute for help. He never forgot how afraid he was and how badly he just wanted a single person to help, and no one did.. He’s not going to approach Statement givers the way he did in Season 1. I also had to scrap Season 2, because It’s Not Paranoia If They’re Really Out To Get You And You’re Existentially Exhausted So Why Bother Being Paranoid About It. I ended up grabbing a lot of Season 4, late stage Am-I-A-Muppet-Or-Am-I-A-Man considerations and massive guilt complex, as well as his general Bitch Settings and his genuine desire to help people, to the point where he doesn’t consider his own safety or even like. Plan. At all.
5) I have a lot of “versions” of Jon based on the fic I’m working on, and this Jon is by far my favorite. He has very consciously decided to make his mindset “God has decided to let me live another day and I’m about to make it everybody’s problem” and I think that’s great for him.
6) The Leitner (a Spiral one that I made up) that they used against Nan didn’t make her forget it, per se. The line about it all being a bad dream soon was very literal. You believe whatever lie someone told you about what happened, it twists into the truth, so you can’t quite explain why you have such terrible nightmares about it going differently. Nan knows Jon ran away, she talked to all those--police officers, were they? So she can’t quite explain why her dreams are filled with fog, and emptiness, and that horrible man leading her grandson away by the arm. It felt way too exposition-y and out of character to have Wright explain that to Jon, so that didn’t go in, but that’s what happened there.
7) When Jon was Even Younger and Even More Bitter he used to fill out a damage to company property report every time he got hurt and Elias had to yell at him for three months to get him to stop
8) There wasn’t a good scene for this, but Jon dumped all of Mike’s moisturizer when no one was looking because he will singlehandedly stop Danny Stoker’s skin care regime even if Mike kills him over it
9) There are fun fonts on my original google doc that only my friend gets to see because I can’t figure out how the coding in AO3 works.
Okay, this got long. I’ll stop here. Thank you for reading and for asking!!
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A Shitty Love Song (Part 1) - Stiles Stilinski
Wild Ones
A/N: hey everyone! this has been a long time coming! thank you for lovely comments on my previous post, im super happy to finally be posting this. a HUGE thank you to @duskholland for helping me out so much with this series, ily to death bitch. enjoyy yall
Summary: Y/N is a 17 year old girl who struggles in an epic battle against herself. Whether it is amor’s icy grasp or life’s unexpected course that forces her to finally open up, only one thing is certain. The truth cannot be long hidden.
Warnings: underage drinking, party times, maybe a couple of swear words but im not sure haha
Word Count: 5,3K
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader (Y/N)
Series Masterlist

(picture is not mine -> credits to @ pechka on unsplash)
Seasons before, in the early fall where the leaves don’t yet want to leave their wooden hooks, Y/N had just started her junior year of high school. Being the new girl in school, she was afraid of being alone - something she had always been - but not this year. Whether it was chance or fate, she happened to fall upon a curious but wonderful group of people who quickly became her friends.
At its center, Scott McCall, young lacrosse player with a boyish charm and a heart of gold and by his side, Stiles Stilinski, an eccentric and spirited young man. Surrounding them were Lydia Martin, the fiery and confident genius, the sweet yet lethal huntress, Allison Argent, and finally Isaac Lahey, charming Mr Mischief himself.
This pack of wild cards had found a new companion, and Y/N fit in like a puzzle piece filling in its designated spot. She got along with everyone in the group, forming indestructible friendships with these eccentric teenagers, and she felt fortunate beyond belief. More often than not, she would eat with them by the walnut tree outside of the school. The group would share stories and food, complaining about the soporific lessons from the earlier period, or excitedly planning the next outing, the next party. Every week, the teenagers would go hang out in the woods by the mystical ruins of the Hale House, doing more of the same. Life was light and good.
The group had planned on hanging out by the Hale House one quiet September afternoon, but the universe likes to play tricks, and somehow Y/N and Stiles were the only ones to show up. Deeming it a happy accident, the pair walked through the damp woods together, talking about their day and slowly letting each other in. Laughter echoed between the trees and the wind turned.
🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙
A little more than a month had gone by and Halloween was just around the corner. Classes seemed longer than usual, bigger stacks of schoolwork forming daunting piles on Y/N’s desk. But school was the last thing she could think of when she got home after a long day of concentration. The only thing that mattered, was Stiles. Video calls, phone calls, and late night texts that seemed to never cease took over the second Y/N’s feet passed the threshold of her home. And nothing compared to these conversations.
“I’m sorry but no.”
“Stiles, stop, seriously.”
The mole-speckled boy lunged forward in front of the screen and passed a shaking hand through his spiky hair.
“There is no way you like the second trilogy better than the first one. It’s just not possible.”
“Well it is possible, because I do,” Y/N retorted, her unfazed expression gleaming back at him.
“Literally how? The group dynamic alone should make you see reason. I mean come on. Han and Leia? Han and Chewie? Han and Luke?”
“You do know Star Wars doesn’t exclusively revolve around Han Solo right?” she asked, her lips breaking into a smirk.
“First of all, no. Second, give me one single reason why the second trilogy is better than the first,” Stiles said, “I dare you.”
“One reason?”
The boy nodded, serious as a statue.
“Hayden Christensen.”
Stiles groaned deeply, his face buried in his large hands.
“Can’t even have a serious discussion about Star Wars with someone rational.”
“I’m not sorry.”
“You’re the worst.”
Y/N paused, holding a finger to her chin.
“Hmm, agree to disagree.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Hey! How can we have an intelligent debate about anything if you use swearing as a last resort.”
“I have given up on us. It’s over.”
Y/N laughed profusely against her pillow, shaking her head.
“You’re a drama queen.”
“FRIENDSHIP OVER!” Stiles bellowed and Y/N shot her head back, unstoppable laughter erupting from her stomach.
“It’s going to make things awkward at the party, Friday,” Y/N said between chuckles, her laughter quieting down.
“Who said you were even invited,” replied Stiles, adjusting his shirt, revealing a tiny patch of skin just above his sweats. Y/N’s eyes flicked over to the screen but the second had passed.
“Funny. Listen, I gotta get some sleep otherwise I’ll pass out in math or something.”
“Yeah, I should probably also go to bed sometime soon.”
“Hopefully before tomorrow morning.”
“Har-har,” said Stiles, smiling at the camera, his chocolatey irises beaming at Y/N.
“Goodnight nerd.”
“Goodnight loser.”
Y/N stuck out her tongue at Stiles before hanging up the call.
That night, as she carefully brushed her teeth and got her clothes ready for the next day, Y/N thought back on her video call with Stiles, a warm smile spreading on her lips.
🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙
The week passed so slowly, each hour lasting an exhausting eternity. School, demanding as ever, while keeping Y/N busy, was the reason why time seemed so lengthy. The nasty side-effect from tantalizing hours is the amount of thinking you do to keep busy. So Y/N did just that. She thought about how much she cared for her group of friends, she thought about the fact that she had never felt like she belonged like she did then.
She thought about how nice it was sitting by the Hale House, enjoying each others’ company, how life is so much lighter when you feel surrounded, how much she had learned about herself after meeting the pack. She thought about the band Stiles and her liked so much. She thought about Star Wars. She thought about the sound her computer made when Stiles sent her a message. She thought of his hair, his moles, his neck. She thought about how thrilling it was when he sat next to her. She thought about how much he mattered in her life, just like the others mattered too.
Y/N did so much thinking that week. But the funny thing is, amor has a way of tricking your mind. Your body believes one thing but your mind has been bewitched, and no amount of thinking you do can remove the fog clouding over your eyes.
When came Friday, Y/N was happy to be done with school, bursting through the doors of the establishment, excited to go home and get ready for Danny’s Blackout Party. She was thrilled about going, however nervous she felt.
She had never been to a party like Danny’s rave before and she had no idea what to expect. But more importantly, she was afraid of crowds. She had tried going out to packed bars with people from her old school, but the chaos and the drunks surrounding her made her feel beyond uneasy.
“Y/N! Wait up!” She heard Allison exclaim, and she slowed down her pace, allowing the brunette to catch up with her.
“Are you excited for tonight?” asked Allison, her light brown eyes gleaming brightly.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be...crazy.”
“You okay?”
Y/N forced a smile and nodded overenthusiastically.
“Yeah! Just tired. It was a long day,” she replied.
“Same here, which is why, we need to let loose tonight! Let’s get ready at Lydia’s, so we can all head over there together.”
“Sure. Quick question though, how did Lydia get us invited in the first place?”
Allison giggled, nodding her head towards Aiden and Ethan standing by their motorcycles.
“How do you think?”
The girl’s laughter echoed through the cool autumn air and disappeared with their cars. It was going to be a night to remember.
🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙
As Y/N and Allison reached Lydia’s house, Y/N couldn’t help but feel more and more anxious, tightly gripping her bag filled with clothes and makeup. The party was starting to worry her.
People had been whispering about it all day back at the high school, talking about the numerous illicit drinks that would be served and the intriguing entertainment. It seemed like the Danny had gone all out for Halloween. Still, not knowing exactly what to expect practically terrified Y/N.
She was outgoing, but big crowds and chaos were things that made panic bubble up inside of her very core, quickening her heartbeat to a frightening extent. She loved dancing and partying, and much like other people her age, she loved a good drink every once in a while, but huge events and big blowouts, she had never been a fan of.
Putting on a brave face, Y/N shut the car door and walked up the stairs to Lydia’s front porch, ringing the doorbell as Allison locked the car. After what seemed like mere seconds, Lydia opened the door, letting the excited girls in.
“Finally. I thought I was going to have to get going without you,” she said, smirking at the pair.
“Y/N couldn’t decide what to wear,” replied Allison, sending Y/N a look that made Lydia scoff.
“Excuse me if I've never been to a neon-themed rave. How am I supposed to know what to wear?”
“Well the name of said rave could be a pretty good indicator,” mocked Lydia as the girls walked up to her bedroom, shutting the door behind them.
“Ali, what are you wearing?”
Allison giggled with a smirk and did a demonstrative twirl, showing off her burgundy flannel shirt and black jeans.
“This!”
Lydia raised her eyebrows at the brunette, a confused expression etched on her face.
“Am I the only one here who understands the term “neon”?” she asked.
Allison shook her head then slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing a neon pink bra.
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. This stunt was definitely orchestrated for someone special.
“Wow. Isaac will love it.”
“It’s about time you two did something about your situation,” joked Lydia, reaching for an eyelash curler.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” replied Allison with an innocent shrug and a slightly less innocent wink.
“Well now that Allison’s outfit is sorted, it’s your turn, Y/N. Let’s see what’s in this enormous bag of yours.”
The strawberry blonde bent down and grabbed Y/N’s bag before she could say anything, emptying its contents in a flash.
“No, no, definitely not, no…Y/N, why are all of these clothes black?” inquired Lydia, with a look of disgust she had difficulty hiding.
“Lyds, I told you, I don’t know what to wear to a rave.”
“Show me your bra.”
“What?”
“Show me your bra. If it’s the right colour, we can just pair it with some of my clothes.”
Y/N reluctantly removed her white shirt, revealing an electric blue floral lace bra, much to Lydia’s delight. Allison whistled approvingly.
“Okay here’s what we’re gonna do.” Lydia walked over to her closet, carefully studying its contents. Allison and Y/N exchanged a glance as Lydia clapped her hands together.
“This goes with this, and you have to tuck it in, like so,” she said, “okay, try this on. Now.”
Y/N looked down at the outfit her friend had put together.
“Yes ma’am,” she mumbled, her face as white as a sheet.
Y/N walked to the corner of the room as the girls chatted and finished getting ready. Her heart thundered as she passed her neck through the bottom of the sheer black top Lydia had handed to her. Looking herself in the mirror, all she could see was a blushing dishevelled mess. Her bra covered most of her chest, but the curves of her breasts were only slightly hidden by the black mesh material she was wearing.
“Okay, this is okay…” she muttered to herself, trying not to panic.
Bending down, she grabbed the black layered skirt she had brought with her and brought it up to her hips, tucking the top inside. The skirt helped balance out the outfit, but still Y/N wasn’t fully convinced.
“How are you feeling?”
“Kind of nervous honestly.”
“I meant how do you feel about the outfit- but you’re nervous? Why?” asked Lydia, walking over to Y/N in front of the full-length mirror.
“It’s just- I’ve never been to a big party like tonight, much less looking like…this,” Y/N reluctantly replied.
Lydia bit her lip and sucked in some air before smiling widely at Y/N and taking a step forward.
“By “looking like this” I hope you mean by looking incredible. Y/N, look at yourself. You’re tall and confident, the outfit looks amazing on you. Your look is not the problem,” she said, gently.
“Then what is?”
“You tell us,” replied Allison, walking over to the girls by the mirror.
Y/N exhaled deeply and turned around to face her friends.
“I hate crowds. I love partying don’t get me wrong, I just- I get really really panicky around big crowds of people. The noise, the warmth, all of it, just terrifies me. I’m worried that I’ll hate it and freak out or something. I’m sorry, I probably should have said something before.”
As soon as the daunting words had slipped through her lips, Y/N felt a weight lift from her weary shoulders, a wave of relief passing over her entire body.
“Hey, it’s okay. Everyone’s got something they’re uncomfortable with. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” said Allison, sweetly.
“I know, it’s not that I’m ashamed, I just- didn’t wanna be a downer. I really am excited for tonight! I’m just nervous.”
Lydia placed her hands on Y/N’s shoulders and smiled brightly.
“Look, you’re gorgeous right now. Even without my help, you’re gorgeous. And tonight, we’ll be around the whole time. If you feel freaked out or you start to panic, we’ll go outside and get some fresh air. We don’t mind.”
“Exactly, we’re your friends. You know you can depend on us on occasion,” Allison joked and Y/N laughed, shaking her head timidly.
“Seriously, Y/N, we’re gonna have a ton of fun tonight. And if you need anything, whatsoever, we’re both here,” added Lydia.
Y/N’s heart swelled and she felt her eyes filling slowly. Blinking the impending tears away, she smiled widely, her radiant eyes following suite.
“Thank you, both of you. You’re the best.”
“Agreed. Now, that’s sorted. Are you comfortable with the outfit?” asked Lydia.
Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, analyzing every detail of her figure, taking in how “out there” the outfit was. After a few seconds, she nodded to herself and smiled.
“You know what? You only live once.”
Allison giggled and rested her arms on Y/N’s shoulder.
“Tonight is going to be amazing!”
🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙
As Lydia’s car pulled into the parking lot in front of the venue - a large concrete building comparable to a construction site - Y/N sent a text to her friend.
Y/N: we just got to danny’s party
Y/N: u guys here?
The girls looked up at the windows on the top level, the neon lights shining through catching their attention, the music already reaching their ears.
The group excitedly entered the building, Y/N’s heart thundering against her ribcage. Allison noticed the worried look on her friend’s face and she slipped her hand in hers, sending her a warm smile. Y/N took a deep breath, and the three beautiful girls went into the otherwise empty elevator. On the way up, Y/N’s phone vibrated against her palm and she looked down at the screen.
Stiles: we aren’t there yet
Stiles: Scott needed to go get something
Y/N’s heart couldn’t help but sink a little. She had hoped the boys were going to be there already, though why, she couldn’t say. Her phone interrupted her thoughts again.
Scott: by smth, Stiles means someone
Scott: and by someone, he means Kira
Scott: also we’re late because of the jeep
Scott: ;)
Y/N chuckled and texted him back, Lydia and Allison sharing an inquisitive look.
Y/N: figures :))
“Who is that?” asked Allison as the elevator doors opened.
Y/N winced slightly and turned to Allison.
“It’s the boys. Scott was just telling me they picked up Kira…”
“Oh.”
Lydia looked from Allison to Y/N, and back, the awkwardness beyond tangible.
“Are you okay?” asked Y/N, worried that the news had killed the mood.
“Honestly? I don’t love the idea of partying with my ex and his new girlfriend, but we broke up three months ago. We’ve both moved on. Besides, I really like Isaac. I’m not gonna let this ruin my evening,” Allison answered, a soft smile on her lips.
“Allison has Isaac, Scott has Kira, Stiles- well I don’t know about Stiles. That leaves you and me, Y/N. You can help me avoid Aiden tonight,” said Lydia, straightening her dress.
“Aiden, as in, the guy you hooked up with who just so happens to be the guy who invited you to this rave?”
“Precisely.” Lydia walked away hurriedly, and the girls laughed, entering the venue.
The grey concrete in the hall was uncharacteristically bland compared to the other-worldly burst of colours inside of the venue. Neon blue, pink, orange, yellow, and green exploding in every direction, paired with blaring purple lights attached to the concrete beams above the dancefloor where what looked like at least 70 people were jumping up and down to the beat of Losing It by FISHER. Strands of white UV tubes hanging from the ceiling all around the dancefloor lit up every white item of clothing in the room, turning the pure colour into a bright purple.
This giant nebula of chaos and colour made Y/N’s blood pump ten times faster throughout her body. That or the the bass blasting through the giant speakers by the DJ. Either way, the thrill of it made Y/N shiver, her whole body completely frozen in place.
“This is crazy!” Allison gasped.
“Danny really went all out,” said Lydia, staring at the dancing figures in the center of the room.
Y/N’s phone buzzing woke her from her trance and she read the text.
Stiles: be there in about 20 minutes
Stiles: can’t wait to embarrass you on the dancefloor
Y/N: oof
“Let’s go get a drink,” Lydia urged, walking over to the large snack table with numerous bottles. Y/N read the labels and nodded, impressed by the wide range of drinks.
“Wow. Jack Daniels, vodka, a shitton of beer, wine coolers, rum, Jagermeister…Danny really did go all out.”
“Pass me a cup,” said Allison.
As the girls filled their glasses, Lydia eyed Y/N’s cup.
“Y/N, are you sure you want to start with a triple shot of vodka?”
“Yeah, it’s fine!” Y/N exclaimed, downing the drink before anyone could stop her and gasping as the strong liquid burned its way down her throat.
“Ohkay, take it easy,” said Allison, shooting a worried glance at Lydia.
“I’ve got it under control,” replied Y/N as she refilled her cup.
“Let’s go dance!”
Allison dragged the girls away from the table, walking over to the dancefloor. Y/N downed her second drink and nodded wearily.
“Yesss, let’s do this!”
The looming herd of party-goers, intimidating as it was, seemed a little less daunting now that Y/N was actually at the party.
“How bad could it be?” she thought to herself before treading through the mass, occasionally bumping against people energetically throwing their limbs around.
In the middle of the chaos, Allison stopped and started moving her hips in sync with the song, Lydia quickly following suit. Y/N bobbed her head along to the beat of the bass, her arms swinging awkwardly on either side of her body. Allison laughed and grabbed her friend’s arms forcing the movement to flow through Y/N’s limbs. Lydia busted up and down, moving her waist so naturally it seemed like she had been born for this very moment.
Closing her eyes, Y/N tried to focus on the music vibrating throughout her body, the memory of the colours surrounding her floating behind her eyelids. Allison sang along with the lyrics of the current song, shouting out the words as she moved from side to side. Y/N slowly started to lose herself to the music, letting go of her inhibitions, forgetting the world around her.
When the beat changed, her feet jumped up and down, as if they had a mind of their own. Her head felt heavy yet no thoughts crossed her mind. The music had gotten rid of all concentration, the only thing left was the bass flowing through her veins, making her entire body pulsate to the beat.
Beads of sweat trickled down Y/N’s neck as she kept dancing, her feet starting to ache with every jump. It had only been about fifteen minutes, but to the dancers, it seemed like a wonderful eternity. Finally, Lydia tapped on Y/N’s shoulder and shouted by her ear.
“Let’s do some body painting!”
Y/N nodded profusely, a wide smile on her lips.
“Ali went to dance with Isaac!” Lydia shouted as the pair pushed through the crowd.
“Where’s the paint?” shouted Y/N, trying to hear her own voice over the music and failing miserably.
“Over there!”
A tall blonde boy holding brushes with purple and pink tips smiled as the girls reached him, his charismatic grin turning Y/N’s cheeks bright red.
“What can I do for you ladies?” he asked, his pearly white teeth a bright purple as his grin widened.
“My friend over here needs a lot of paint. Emphasis on lot,”Lydia insisted.
Y/N shook her head, giggling stupidly.
“Not too much paint,” she said warmly.
The boy smiled with a wink.
“Let me worry about that.”
Y/N removed her mesh top, holding it with her right hand, patiently waiting for the boy to start painting across her chest and back. She shivered as she felt the cool wet tip of the brush meet her sweaty skin, sliding a few inches down, a thick stripe of paint spreading across her back. Y/N giggled at the cold feeling, the alcohol in her system reaching her head. She closed her eyes and bent her neck to the side as the boy continued his line up to her collarbone.
“What’s your name?” she heard him ask.
“What’s yours?” she chose to answer, smiling wickedly.
She heard him laugh as he started painting little dots up her back.
“Jeremy.”
“Nice to meet you, Jeremy.”
“You know most girls like a proper introduction before getting this close,” he said over the pulsating music, his breath fanning over Y/N’s neck as he painted small strokes down her shoulder. Y/N grinned mischievously.
“I’m not like most girls,” she teased as she turned to face him.
“No, I guess you’re not,” the boy replied, his eyes darting towards her lips and back up.
“I’m almost done with your body- I mean with the paint,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. Y/N giggled and stepped closer.
“I’m all yours…” she replied.
Jeremy’s deep blue eyes lingered on hers before focusing on her chest. Y/N thanked the universe that he wasn’t looking straight at her, otherwise he would have seen her cheeks fill with red for the second time. He delicately placed pink and orange dots up and down her chest, careful as to not stain her bra and she watched him, observing his concentration with admiration. Finally, he looked up, smiling at her.
“My masterpiece is done,” he declared, placing the paintbrush on the body paint stand.
Jeremy reached for a mirror and handed it to her. She admired the strands and dots painted across her body in a chaotic waltz, the hot purple and pink clashing against her skin. Looking up at him, she grinned widely.
“You’re talented,” she said.
“It’s easier when you have such a good canvas to work on…” he replied, sending her a look hot enough to melt her.
Momentarily remembering the outside world, she looked around and quickly realized Lydia wasn’t there anymore, probably off dancing or looking for Allison. Y/N turned back to Jeremy.
“I’m sorry, I should probably go check on my friends…” she said, biting her lip as she slipped her mesh shirt back on.
“Of course. Maybe later, we’ll bump into each other on the dance floor?” he replied, a nervous smile etched on his lips.
“Yeah, maybe.”
Y/N winked at him and walked away, trying her best to keep her cool.
“Well that was something.” She thought to herself, a wide grin planted on her face.
Looking around, she couldn’t find either of her friends, nor could she find Isaac. Slightly disappointed, Y/N walked over to the table and poured some vodka in an unused cup before knocking her head back, letting the burning liquid run down her throat.
She eyed the dancefloor and thought back on her previous conversation with Jeremy. She was beyond nervous. She’d never actually kissed a boy before. The opportunity just hadn’t ever presented itself. But now that she was here, feeling tipsy as ever, a few feet away from the cutest boy at the party, she couldn’t help but think, why not?
Wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt and downing her fourth - albeit, strong - drink of the night, she nodded to herself and walked over to the dancefloor.
As Five Hours blasted through the speakers, Y/N pushed her way through the sweaty crowd once again, making her way to the center of the dancefloor. Ignoring the world surrounding her, she closed her eyes and gave in to the music, feeling every beat of the song pulsate throughout her entire body.
Colours, flashing lights, the feeling of people’s skin against hers, her head spinning and swaying in every direction, it made her feel alive. As the last drop of the song reached its peak, Y/N jumped with the crowd, knocking her body against complete strangers, feeling the warm and sticky air fill her lungs with every breath.
The song Too Much by Curbi started to play and Y/N felt someone’s body against hers. Closing her eyes, she turned around and felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist. She sighed lightly, enjoying the feeling of her skin against the boy’s. His fingers treaded down her back, firmly settling just above her ass, holding her steady in a sea of bustling bodies.
She danced against him, turning around again, her back facing his front. Moving against his body, she felt his arms tighten around her, pulling her in. His hot breath fanned over her neck and she moaned slightly, squeezing his hand reassuringly.
Suddenly, time seemed to stand still when his lips lightly touched her warm skin. Y/N inhaled sharply, her eyes still shut. The only thing she could hear now was the sound of her heartbeat furiously thundering against her ribcage. Slowly caressing the boy’s arm, she allowed further access to her neckline, moaning loudly as she felt his feverish lips plant warm kisses on her neck, inching higher and higher. Y/N’s hands reached for his and she tugged them closer to her body, her hips still moving against him. His lips danced furiously across her neck, leaving dangerously beautiful marks on her skin.
The music seemed only to heighten her senses. Her legs almost gave out when she heard the boy groan lightly against her ear, her response, a small whine at the loss of contact with his lips. She turned around and tried to open her eyes, the bright lights bursting through the gap in her eyelids. Squinting at his face, trying as hard as possible not to lose herself to the music again, Y/N’s eyes caught a glimpse of the boy’s face.
Bright pink dashes stained his cupid’s bow and the right corner of his bottom lip, the paint from her neck helpless in the face of a passion like this one. Y/N’s eyes scanned the rest of his face and widened slightly when they met amber irises, warm and inviting and so familiar. Her fingers threaded through his damp dark brown hair, her brain trying to comprehend what was about to happen.
His chocolatey eyes looked deep into hers and he licked his lips slowly, the world around them fading. Y/N felt her vision blur as she inched closer to him, her nose picking up the scent of old leather and pine trees and rain. His lips lingered over hers and she felt a chill as her name echoed through the air.
“Y/N…”.
Their lips connected in a frenzied blur, sending sparks of pleasure throughout Y/N’s entire body and the chaos surrounding the pair completely swallowed them. His teeth slightly bit her bottom lip and she deepened the kiss, ardently giving in to his deliciously demanding mouth. Unable to control her body, she steadied herself against him, tugging at his shirt with one hand, the other cupping his face as he sucked on her delectable lips.
Their bodies so unbelievably close disappeared in the crowd of dancers, the whole world somehow a thousand miles away.
Time, a forgotten concept.
A/N: I seriously hope u enjoyed this!! if u did please reblog :)) (would be super helpful especially with tumblr acting up w the tags and all that) <3 part 2 coming soon!!
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