#i just really love them okay

[quinnigallagherjones]

maeveaimee have a chance at being endgame, in this essay i will...

no but like aimee writing about a girl in her wank diary hello????

and also her painting boobs !!! (she's definitely realising she's sapphic in this final season PLEASE)

and THIS HUG HELLO ?!??!??

ANYGAYS i will ALWAYS be a maeveaimee truther and they can't fool me with that trailer i don't CARE

[sexyleon]

PLS TELL ME HEADCANONS

I HAVE SO MANY THERE ARE SO MANY!!!!! I'm going to use this ask to talk about what I think happened in the immediate aftermath of Resi 4 tho!!

Okay, first, I don't think Ashley's rescue was covert at all! Leon doesn't just get to jetski to a designated landing spot and fly off into the sunset without the Spanish government getting involved and causing an international incident BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE TOO EASY. It's a very public affair, and while Leon is protected and never really reaches the limelight, Ashley has to publicly defend herself and her father in a media shit show (my zine piece in @relentlesszine is about Ashley coping with this!)

Anyways, after the initial confusion/chaos of American/Spanish officials struggling to find a solution on what to do, Leon and Ashley are rushed to a Spanish hospital once it has been confirmed they were infected by an unknown parasite. They're both in shock, but Leon takes it upon himself to endure the brunt of it: the interrogations, the questionnaires, the stressful explain what happened parts. He's still in fight-or-flight mode, and his only goal is to protect Ashley in any way he can. Eventually, they're to be separated and put into isolation chambers where they will have no contact with the outside world until they've been completely assessed by a team of doctors. Leon doesn't take this well. It's too familiar, it reminds him of when they took Sherry, and he'll be damned if he lets the same thing happen to Ashley. He adamantly refuses until they allow him into the same ward as Ashley (he's not violent about it because he's very aware of the situation they're both in, but he's not exactly nice about it either-- he's not going to let Ashley from his sight until she's in her father's arms). They wind up in separate rooms next to each other.

The ward is the hardest part for Leon. The doctors won't just let Leon stay by Ashley's side since he needs to be evaluated too. They make him lie down, force needles into his arms, take care of him-- which he thinks is a waste of time. They need to focus on Ashley.

He can't sleep. He wants to go home. He wants to take Ashley home. He wants to be anywhere but in this hellhole of a hospital. Every time he closes his eyes it's a different flashback. The villagers, innocent people turned monsters-- people he had to kill, people he lost count of killing. Luis and Mike, watching good people, his friends, die. Ada...God, he doesn't understand why he keeps going back to her. He doesn't understand why he trusted her. Dying is better than dealing with this. He wishes he could ask for morphine, but it'll just be another chance for someone or something to hurt Ashley.

This is how Ashley finds him, sneaking away from her room one night after being repetitively told they can't visit each other. He sits up from his cot when he realises she's there, all the worry in his face turning to relief. He wants nothing more than her safety and happiness.

“Ashley?”

“Sorry Leon, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

He gestures for her to come closer, offering space at the end of his cot for her to sit. They stay like that for a little while, the silence washing over them with the unspoken knowledge of what they'd been through. Leon does not mind the companionship, but can't help to feel guilty about everything that had happened. If he was better, maybe they'd already be home.

“I.... I want to thank you.”

Leon knows he should acknowledge it, he knows he should respond with grace, but the sinking feeling in his heart deepens. He doesn't deserve her thanks. He could've, he should've done better.

He settles on a “don’t mention it” with a wave of his hand, no big deal. He hopes it is enough, he doesn't want to think anymore. He can't look her in the eyes.

“Leon, I—"

“I said don’t.”

It comes out firmer than he means it, and when he looks up at Ashley to apologise it's too late. She’s already crying, ugly sobs filling the room as she gets up to leave.

“I’m sorry I’m such a burden! You should have left me to DIE!" are the only words he gets before she leaves.

Leon feels awful, and he's so so angry. It's not her fault for being kidnapped. It's her fault for being used to control her father. It's not her fault only one man with no info and little help was sent to save her. It's not her fault a sick man destroyed the lives of hundreds of people. None of it was her fault, but he knows nothing he can say right now will change her mind. So he lets her be and lies back down with his nightmares.

Later, after the doctors have done their rounds, he sneaks out to find her. She’s curled up on her cot, the vision of a young girl who has gone through hell. He knows the feeling, he remembers it well.

“Go away.” 

“Ashley, I just want to talk,” his voice is soft, resigned.

She hesitates before stretching out a little and sitting up, patting the cot next to her with a tiny "okay."

Leon sits down, the silence once again enveloping them as he works up the courage to speak. The words feel thick in his throat. He never expected to be here again, having this conversation again. It's all a little too much, but he knows it's his responsibility.

“Well?!” Ashley snaps at him. He flinches and looks down at his lap. She's angry too, he figures. Angry, sad, and scared.

“I guess I deserved that,” he frowns, nodding to himself. She's about to say something else when he cuts her off, “Look. I’m sorry for how I spoke to you earlier." Good. An apology is a good start. "We went through a lot. It's a lot," he pauses, the full weight of what has happened on his shoulders, "But we’re here now...Together, and I wouldn’t have it any other way."

It's then that he looks up at her, all the earnestness in his eyes. “You’re not a burden. Without you, we wouldn’t have made it-- I wouldn't have made it." He reaches for her hand, pulling her up so that she can look into his eyes. "None of this is your fault. Krauser and Salazar and Saddler did this, not you," he pauses for a moment, all the emotion welling up in him..

"I am happy you're alive.”

---

LSDJLKSDJFLKSDJLFJS anyways this ended up turning a little fic-ish?????? SORRY lksfjlsjfdslf this is how i think it happened tho and it lives in my mind rent free lsdfjlskdfjlsdfj

Leon loves Ashley the way he loves Sherry and they are trauma bonded for LYFE. He's been through what she's going through and he wants nothing more than to take all the pain away and give her a normal life, the only things he wishes for himself

@thebisexualmandalorian

[theangrypomeranian]

if anyone besides me ever writes for Henry and Susmita I will kiss you on the lips

[eydilily]

would you bite the hand that feeds you?

[storyof-eden]

Andrew Minyard really looked at David Wymack with that med-induced grin and said "I don't give a shit about stickball or school. But my brother wants to be a doctor. And my cousin deserves something good for taking care of us the last few years. So if you sign them, too, I'll pretend."

And David Wymack really said "okay, kid."

[hinamie]

in spite of everything, I had fun <3

[captain-krow-drozdov]

Danny Is An Alternate Version Of Ra's Al Ghul And Flash Already Called Dibs On Adopting Him

Danny In All His Sleep Deprived Slightly Scuffed Up From A Fight Glory Is On His Way To Clockworks Tower To Hopefully Get A Nap And Maybe Some Homework Done When A Natural Portal Opens Up In Front Of Him And Proceeds To Unceremoniously Drop Him In The DC Verse Just Outside Of Central City Before Promptly Closing Leaving A Tired Danny Behind In A Run Down Abandoned Parking Lot.

It's Times Like This When Danny Regrets Putting Off Learning How To Make His Own Portals, Cause Now He Is Very Much Stuck For The Foreseeable Future And He Has No Idea Where Or When He Is. Luckily For Him However Central City Isn't Too Far Away, Unlucky For Him However Is That Once In The City He Realizes This Isn't His Dimension. He's Pretty Sure He'd Remember Something Called The Justice League.

So What Do You Do When Supernatural Bullshit Fails You? You Fall Back On Your Mad Scientist Roots And You Make A Portal Gun. So That's Exactly What Danny Plans To Do.

Unfortunately Staying Alive And Building Questionably Safe Portal Technology Requires Money And Supplies, So He Ends Up Wandering From City To City Doing Odd Jobs/Fixing Up Busted Tech For Cash Or Unwanted Electronics For His "Operation: Get Home" Needs. This Obviously Ends In A Few Superhero Encounter Shenanigans.

Though He Always Ends Up Back Near Central City, Both On The Off Chance The Natural Portal Will Open Up Again And Because Out Of All The Superheroes That Apparently Exist In This Universe The Speedsters Are His Favorite (Red Robin Is Solidly His Second Favorite Ever Since The Gotham Vigilante Gave Him A Large Coffee Filled With Enough Caffeine To Kill A Man).

Unbeknownst To Danny However Is That Every Hero/Vigilante He Has Encountered Has Come To At Least One Of The Following Conclusions; 1. Run Away Meta Who Is In Desperate Need Of A Good Meal/Adoption Bait. 2. Possibly Red Robin/Tim Drake Clone 3. A Good Kid But Could Possibly Be A Future Rouge If Left Unsupervised. 4. Did Bats Get A New Kid And Why Is He Here?

All Flash Knows Is That He Saw The Kid First And Therefore Has Dibs. Suck It Bruce.

Fast-forward A Few Months And Danny Gets Hurt During A Rogue Attack While Trying To Help Some Civilians Get To Safety (Old Hero Habits Die Hard (Ha Die Hard) And All That Jazz) And He Nopes Out Once Everyone Is Safe And When The Paramedics Are Busy With Other People Unaware He Left A Blood Sample Behind.

One DNA Test Brought To You By Paranoid Bat Concerns Of A Possible Red Robin Clone Later And They Find Out That Dannys DNA Matches One Ra's Al Ghul.

They Now Think Danny Is An Escaped Ra's Al Ghul Clone.

Memes For The Vibes:

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

A whole new meaning to Gay Chicken.

(For: Anonymous raffle winner!)

[medicalunprofessional]

sorry guys they finally showed me peak fiction . Its called “phantom of the paradise”

[mroddmod]

she’ll be alright because she had you.

[egophiliac]

Hi it's just to let you know that the official romanization of Revaan's name is Raverne ! Also they have romanized Baul's name to Baur !

Twst coming back at us again with the least expected romanization! thank you everybody (oh god my inbox) (no it's great, I literally asked for this and the reactions have been INCREDIBLE, thank you all!)

I do like Raverne though, I think it's got a nice fancy sound to it! (I had kinda suspected it was going to be an R instead of an L, so the fact that it's SO close to Laverne except for that is hilarious to me personally.) and Dragoneye Duke is honestly probably the best translation for his title, I wasn't envying the localizers that one. :') Baur instead of Baul I was NOT expecting, but in retrospect I think his name's supposed to be a reference to the Bauru crocodile, so that actually makes way more sense!

someone else also said Meleanor has become Maleanor, which is the REALLY weird one to me, because I was so surprised it was written as Mel instead of Mal in the first place?! oh god no I can't decide which one I like better. 😭 (I wonder if they might change it to Mal...they have made romanization changes before) (like I remember House of Distraction being corrected to House of Destruction in Playful Land) (I did check and she's still Mel for now, but I dunno, they might Mal her up and some point and save me from having to make a decision about which one to use) (HECK I CAN'T DECIDE)

uhhhh thank you for letting me ramble about anime names, let's just say MONOGRAMMED SWEATERS FOR EVERYONE

[slfcare]

the most difficult thing about growing as a person socially, as in getting out of your shell and noticing that you are, is that there will still be times when it doesn’t feel like you’ve grown at all! times when you can’t really connect with anyone around you, times when you fail to enter into an existing conversation, times when you say the wrong thing (or nothing at all when in hindsight you probably should’ve). but that’s also kind of the best thing, because that’s the thing that helps you realize that sometimes, it’s not you or your lack of skills or any shortcoming. sometimes certain environments just aren’t for you and certain people aren’t your people, and that’s okay. that’s human. it’s okay to not feel the progress you have made all the time.

[roosterforme]

SYLVIA. SYL-V-AAHHHH!!!! The Bradshaws are taking over the Burgh, and I am fully in support of this. They went to Primanti's!! Ev has a favorite sandwich! But even after the draft, all he really wants to do is play ball in the park with his DAD.

Draft Day | Rooster x Reader

Summary: If Bradley knew anything about his son, he knew Everett wouldn't be happy with a normal job. Not after wishing and hoping to play major league baseball for most of his life. But when Draft Day turns out even better than expected, Bradley becomes a viral sensation.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing

Length: 2600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

This is a Batting Practice one-shot but can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32

"I hate flying commercial," Bradley grunted as the enormous Boeing 747 touched down on the rainy runway in Pittsburgh. "These pilots couldn't land smoothly for a million dollars."

You kissed him where he was crammed into the economy window seat, his broad shoulders hunched slightly in discomfort. "I told you before we took off to go up to the cockpit and show them how it's done."

Bradley snorted. "And I told you that even though I wanted to, we'd get kicked off the flight. And tomorrow's too important to miss by being grounded in San Diego."

Bradley reached for your hand when it was time to deboard, and he ended up practically dragging you through the airport to the baggage claim area. "Can we slow down?" you asked with a laugh.

"No. Come on, Kitten. Ev's flight from Nashville landed forty minutes ago." 

"Okay, okay," you muttered as the two of you ran toward an escalator. The entire airport was swarming with media groups and college aged players hoping to get drafted by an MLB team tomorrow. And your son was one of those hopefuls.

You had barely taken a step off of the escalator when Bradley said, "I see him." And you kind of loved the way he released your hand to rush toward Everett. Your son looked tall and strong in his Vanderbilt tee shirt and backwards Phillies cap, and a second later, he was hugging your husband.

"Hey, Dad," he said with a laugh as Bradley kissed his forehead and folded him up in his arms. "Hi, Mom." And then you were pulled into the hug, too. 

"Did you get your bags yet?" Bradley asked. 

"The last one's coming around now," Everett replied, and he bent to pick up the long, thin luggage that must have been filled with his baseball gear. "I'm starving. Where are we eating dinner?"

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

After Everett had two enormous roast beef sandwiches filled with french fries and coleslaw, Bradley said, "I was about to ask if you were still getting enough calories every day, but I guess it's safe to assume that yes, you are."

"I'm just always hungry," Everett replied from across the booth, patting his flat belly. "I think the fact that my baseball scholarship covered the cost of food on campus saved you guys from bankruptcy." 

You pushed some of your uneaten fries to the side, and Everett started picking at them. "We would have had to sell the house," you said, shaking your head as your son polished off the rest of your meal, too. 

"So what's on the agenda tomorrow? What time do we have to be at the field?" Bradley asked. "Some of the kids at the airport looked really young. Are you nervous?"

Everett just shrugged. "Nah, what's the worst that can happen? I don't get drafted? I mean, I'm still not twenty two quite yet. I skipped the draft last year so I could finish college, and I have a degree now, so I could always get a normal job. Or join the navy. I already have a call sign."

But Bradley knew his son didn't want a normal job. When he'd gotten an invitation to the draft, he called Bradley immediately and told him how excited he was. "You can't wear that cap tomorrow," Bradley said with a grin. 

Everett spun it around so the battered Phillies P was facing the front. "You're right," he groaned. "I'll have to retire my favorite hat! But at least that would mean I'm pitching for another MLB team, you know?"

"Yeah," Bradley said with a nod as he pulled out his credit card. "It'll be worth it."

Once the three of them were settled into the two bedroom hotel suite, Everett headed right for his room. "You know he just wants to text his girlfriend all night," you said. 

"She's not my girlfriend," he replied with an eye roll. "Goodnight." And then he closed the door with his phone already in his hand. 

"She's totally his girlfriend," Bradley whispered, heading for the other bedroom with you right behind him. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it next to his suitcase before dropping onto the bed. 

"She totally is." You climbed into bed with him as he turned on the TV to ESPN. They were already showing live coverage of the MLB draft preparations. Reporters were interviewing coaches, and they were starting to remove some of the tarps and set up the stage at PNC Park as the rain had finally tapered off. You were just starting to get comfortable curled up on Bradley's chest when he jolted so hard you yelped. 

"Baby! They're talking about Ev."

You listened to the analyst on TV as he said, "And Bradshaw out of Vanderbilt, well he skipped the draft last year to finish his degree. That's almost unheard of! But his senior year stats were his best yet, so maybe he knew what he was doing. There are a lot of National League teams looking for a young ace pitcher who can also show up at bat, and he looks like he's just going to keep getting better. He should go late in the first round or early in the second."

Bradley's eyes were wide as he laughed and rolled you onto your back. "There are literally ESPN analysts talking about our son, Kitten." Then he kissed you softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands were inside your shirt and you were giggling. 

"Hey, you seem excited, Coach." Bradley groaned as his hand drifted down to the fly of your jeans. "Okay," you agreed, "but we have to be quiet." And then your jeans were off and your husband showed you exactly how excited he was.

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

"Oh my God," Bradley mumbled over and over again as the three of you headed up toward the enormous stage that had been erected on the outfield at the ballpark. The weather had mostly cleared, and the city skyline looked gorgeous lit by the late morning sun peeking through the clouds. 

"Third row, Dad," Everett said, guiding them toward their assigned seats. Bradley and Everett were both wearing navy blue suits, but while Everett had chosen a neutral looking yellow and white tie, Bradley's was red. If they were going to have to start wearing a new team's jerseys and colors, he wanted to at least have one last hurrah. 

Bradley let you go into the row first, and then he took the next seat so Everett could sit by the aisle. And when everything started up, the ballpark got loud. The regular seats were filled with spectators, and it was so surreal that Bradley was sitting down here with the draftee hopefuls and his own family. 

You pulled out your phone and said, "Aunt Molly wants a selfie." Bradley grinned as you and Everett both leaned in closer to him and smiled. You snapped the photo and said, "I'm sure she's going to want a ridiculous selfie, too." So the three of you made obnoxious faces, and then you sent them to your sister with a giggle before letting your cheek rest on Bradley's shoulder. 

It was starting to get hot in the sun now as the league commissioner made her way up onto the stage and announced that the draft was officially beginning. "Holy shit," Bradley whispered, reaching for your hand. He was so excited, practically shaking. And he cheered politely as the crowd screamed when shortstop Javier Marianas was chosen first by the Milwaukee Brewers. 

"He's really good," Everett remarked, completely calm while Bradley was sweating bullets. "He went to USC and I pitched against him once. He nailed my slider."

Bradley could only grunt in response as the Toronto Blue Jays were up next. He had no idea how everyone around him was so calm when he thought he might throw up. He looked up to see the teams listed in order on the jumbotron. The Phillies had the sixth pick, which surely would never happen, but the Padres were drafting twenty third. Having Everett close to home in San Diego for most of the year would be amazing. Bradley was already crossing his fingers. 

The Texas Rangers, Washington Nationals and Chicago White Sox all chose power hitters. Bradley tried to sit still while Everett told him that the player chosen by the Rangers was his roommate a decade ago at the Little League World Series. But Bradley was too distracted to listen to much of anything as members of the Phillies organization walked up onto the stage, and the clock started ticking down until their draft selection needed to be turned in.

And then Bradley could tell that while his son seemed calm on the outside, he was a little anxious after all. He saw the prominent bob of Everett's Adam's apple as he swallowed and whispered, "Would have been cool, huh Dad?"

Bradley gently let go of your hand and turned a little bit to wrap his arm around Everett's shoulders and pull him close. His son smiled at the awkward hug, and Bradley told him, "Kiddo, any team would be lucky to have you." He wanted to give him some more reassuring words, but there was nothing else to say. If Everett was selected, the team that chose him would be gaining an amazing pitcher, sure, but also a solid teammate and someone who cared about more than just himself. 

So Bradley kept his arm around his son as the league commissioner returned to the microphone. There were Phillies staff members ready and waiting with a jersey and baseball cap, and they all looked excited for their new player to be announced. The commissioner cleared her throat and said, "With the sixth overall pick in this year's draft, the Philadelphia Phillies choose pitcher Everett Bradshaw."

"Holy shit," Everett whispered as he stared up at the stage with his mouth hanging open. 

Bradley jolted forward in his seat as you scrambled to get your phone out again. "Holy shit," Everett and Bradley said in unison as the crowd started to cheer when Everett's stats started scrolling along the jumbotron screen.

"Ev!" you shrieked, and Bradley jumped to his feet. 

"Kiddo! The Phillies!" he said, and slowly Everett rose to his feet too. "The Phillies!" 

And then his son was in his arms, slapping him on the back as he said, "Dad. Oh my God! The Phillies!"

Bradley kissed his cheek and squeezed him. "The Phillies! Go up and get that fucking jersey!" And then Everett leaned in to give you a quick hug before he very gracefully walked down the aisle toward the stage. 

But Bradley was absolutely losing his mind now as the cheering around them grew louder. "Yeah! The Phillies! Kitten, the fucking Phillies!" He raked his hands through his hair. "Our son is going to Philadelphia!"

"He got drafted!" you screamed over the crowd, and Bradley vaguely registered that you were holding your phone up as you jumped around. 

"He got fucking drafted! By the best team in baseball!" Bradley shouted, pumping his fist in the air. And then there was a champagne bottle in his hands, and he started chugging it before screaming, "Yes!" He was jumping with you now, spraying champagne all over the place as he watched Everett take some photos on the stage in his brand new Phillies cap with the jersey held up in front of him. "That's my son! That's my son! I love you, Everett! He's a Phillie! Hell yeah!"

Bradley lunged for you and your shriek of ecstatic laughter had him scooping you into his arms. "Coach! He did it!"

He smothered you in kisses as you took the bottle from his hand and drank some of it. "That's our son! I'm so proud of him!" 

"You did this, Coach! You're the one who made this happen!"

Then he shared so many champagne flavored kisses with you as Everett was escorted off the stage to riotous cheering.

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

A couple hours later, the three of you were back in the hotel room, all sticky from champagne with enormous smiles on your face. You watched as Everett kept hugging Bradley, and now both of them were wearing brand new Phillies caps turned backwards. "Thanks, Dad."

"You need to stop thanking me," Bradley replied softly. "It was all you. I'm so damn proud, Kiddo." But he did look pleased with himself. "Hey, my phone keeps blowing up. Everyone is so excited. I've got about a hundred texts from Maverick, Bob and Molly." But then Bradley froze and squinted down at his phone screen. "Charlie and Flora sent me links to a video they said went viral?"

"What is it?" you asked, but as soon as you looked at the screen, your eyes went wide. "Oh my God."

You watched as the video you had taken of Bradley screaming with the champagne bottle played on his phone. 

"The Phillies! Kitten, the &%@#ing Phillies! Our son is going to Philadelphia!"

Everett erupted into laughter as Bradley just stared at the screen. "I feel like maybe I should be embarrassed?" he mumbled as he continued to watch himself spraying champagne everywhere.

"He got &%@#ing drafted! By the best team in baseball! That's my son! That's my son! I love you, Everett! He's a Phillie! Hell yeah!"

"How did Yahoo Sports get this?" Bradley asked as the video started to play again on loop. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

You were gasping as you tried to stop laughing. "I don't know! I only sent it to Molly!" 

"Molly," Bradley growled, cradling his forehead in his hands as he blushed deeper.

"Dad, it's got half a million views already! This is the funniest thing I have ever seen in my life! I'm sending it to everyone I know!"

And when you turned on the TV in the hotel room, the video was playing there. And when you went back to that sandwich place for dinner, Bradley pulled his cap down lower over his face, because it was playing there, too. And you and Everett couldn't stop laughing no matter how hard you tried.

"It's okay, Coach. If you weren't the biggest Phillies fan in the world before, you certainly are now," you told him. He squeezed into the booth first and then pulled you in to shield him as the people sitting at the bar were laughing at his viral video. 

"Nah, I'm just the biggest Everett Bradshaw fan in the world. But listen, we need to come up with a game plan," Bradley said, pulling up the notes section on his phone. "The Phils want you there by next month, Ev. So we all need to fly out and find you an apartment. We can pay the first month and the security deposit until you actually have your signing bonus available. And we also need to go over that contract with a lawyer when we get back home to San Diego. Kitten, can you call that lawyer in your book club?"

But you just kissed him on the cheek as Everett leaned over the table with a smile. "We'll figure it out, Dad. But actually... I was thinking after we eat dinner, you and I could go to that park down the block from the hotel? I brought all my gear with me. Maybe I could pitch to you until it gets dark?"

Bradley immediately dropped his phone onto the table and squeezed his son's hand while tears stung his eyes. "Yeah, Ev. I would love that. The perfect ending to the perfect day." 

And then he watched his son eat two more huge sandwiches and half of your fries as he gushed about how excited he was to play major league baseball for his favorite team and Bradley's.

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

I love thinking about how Everett becomes known as the player with the "really excited dad". Thanks for reading! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

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[spacedace]

I love me some eldritch, incomprehensible ghost speak in fics, but in my heart ghost speak sounds like a theremin being played.

Like, it's one of those instruments that can sound so much *like* a human voice, and sound nothing like one all in the same song. It can make kind of chipping noises, it can make some truly horrifying sounds. It can be beautiful, it can be creepy, it's peak ghost speak to me

(Also just love the idea of people playing the theremin at ghosts to join the ghost speak convo being like the meme of when people meow to their cats, but like are saying "taxes" or "ketchup" in response to "hi" lol)

Anyway please juat imagine Danny & the other ghosts sounding like this while they talk/fight:

[fiendishartist2]

guy who doesnt dance x guy who will drag you onto the dance floor

[ewwww-what]

friendship so strong it grants you a sixth level spell slot. I have words to say.