#i want to pin him under a microscope and study him like a bug

[ahdriking]

Khem meet Wichien for the first time

- Mansuang (2023)

[macdenlover]

My fucking god. There is so much to take apart.

This episode gave us a peak into Dennis’s mind and it’s the closest thing we’re gonna get to putting him under a microscope like a little bug and studying him in a lab. It isn’t what I expected from this episode but man oh man am i glad to have it. There’s a few things we need to establish first that’s gonna be the basis of my analysis. Dennis is angry, but he ultimately uses that anger to mask fear, pain, and every other emotion that he doesn’t allow himself to feel. Also, the entirety of the episode— every little detail was intentionally conjured by Dennis’s mind either consciously or subconsciously so none of it is off the table to dig into.

There’s two big things at play here— one, his desperate need for control; and two, his instinct to self sabotage. This episode did one hell of a job at showing how woven together the two are.

The essence of Dennis’s character is this impenetrable shell he’s built to protect the vulnerable part that sits at his core, and we finally got to see HOW he builds that shell piece by piece. This is the pressure-cooking of the diamond— if you apply enough pressure it’ll harden the shell.

Everything is thrown out of balance when Dennis learns about his high blood pressure, but what really bothers him about that is the inevitability of aging— something we’ve seen him be insecure about for many seasons. But what’s different about this episode is that while his usual fear of aging comes from vanity, this time it’s combined with Dennis being so afraid of the world around him changing and leaving him behind. This follows the thematic trajectory of this season— all the characters struggling to cope with inevitable change. 

A stress-free day at the beach is a pipe dream. Happiness is something so hopelessly distant from him that he builds a fantasy about chasing it while never getting there— sabotaging the plan because he either thinks it’s too impossible, something he doesn’t deserve, or both. This is not the first time we’ve seen this from him. In The Gang Saves The Day, the rest of the gang’s fantasies revolve around them finally getting their dream ending, while Dennis’s stuck out from the others as a barely comprehendible mess of his own misery. (I’m gonna rewatch this episode soon and give you a full breakdown of my thoughts). Dennis self sabotages in his own fantasies because he can’t imagine a reality where he is capable of getting what he wants. Dissatisfaction is something so permanent to him, and Dennis Takes a Mental health day is all about him trying to cling to things that are permanent to regain his sense of control. He is creating uncertainty in his own fantasy so that he can be certain about it. He is such a broken man and it is such a fucked up cycle— one thing continues feeding into the other. “The pin’s the key to the phone, the phone’s the key to the car.” 

The primary source of his frustration in this episode was the automated systems, which I think holds place to represent more than one thing. It’s a symbol of the changing world that he can’t control or escape from, but it also represents the parts of himself he’s fighting against. He forms systems in his life that are so methodical and complicated that it gets in the way of his ability to have real human connections. They went right on the nose with it in this ep by having him spelling out his own name as an acronym in a fit of rage. Subconscious Dennis’s d.e.n.n.i.s. system is fucking crazy. 

D- “Deliver me from this”

E - “Engage with human”

N - “Nightmare”

N - “NIGHTMARE”

I - “Is this real?”

S - “Somebody help me”

If you interpret this as his frustration with not only the state of the world but himself and his perpetual loneliness it gets incredibly heartbreaking. Guys I’m really tearing up here. 

His interactions with others in this episode also say so much about him and the inner conflicts he’s experiencing. He knows he establishes control by taking his frustration out on other people, but he simultaneously struggles with that making him a bad person. He yells at the customer service workers and then APOLOGIZES and reassures them that it’s not them who he’s really mad at. He doesn’t mean to take it out on them. (Potentially wild implications for Dennis woobifiers here.) He wants to take his frustration out on people who he believes deserve it, like the CEO. He gets to see himself as a hero in this story even if he’s miserable. If happiness is a pipe dream, he can settle for second best which is the rush he gets from taking his pain out on the guy who fucked him over. But he is simultaneously the person he spent his entire fantasy craving a real human connection with. He doesn’t know how to do that. It got weird and a little sexual (he definitely wanted to fuck that guy till the room stank). he is vindicated with violence at the end, which is ultimately what he will always resort to because it gives him the sense of power that desperately needs to make the frustration, vulnerability, and weakness go away (mentally AND physically). This is his cycle. 

I’m not sure Dennis could have an episode where he breaks down and cries and has a huge cathartic moment and then goes back to his regular self the next episode the way Mac and Charlie have. Dennis is a whole other can of worms. RCG are comfortable with exploring different sides to these characters as long as they are kept in a state of limbo for the length of the show, but letting Dennis openly express his feelings (even to himself) might make it impossible to come back from because this is literally the entire crux of his character. The last time he opened up emotionally he fled to another state only come back a year later more hostile and emotionally distant than ever. They had to put a hard reset on him after season 12 because they knew that version of him didn’t have longevity in the show. I WISH so fucking bad that they would explore the vulnerable parts of him more explicitly on the show but for now I will settle for being a little vulture and picking it out of the carcass of this season. 

[demcnsinmymind]

walriding​:

      He has a moment to briefly wonder if this is what it feels like to be a bug under a microscope. Pinned and wriggling and so very very small under the gaze of something so much larger it might as well be incomprehensible. The Walrider had felt like that for a long time. More of an observer than a true part of him, its very consciousness so much more than what Miles could handle. It wasn’t a god. Not in the way that any human had ever conceived of a god – not in any way that had ever been worshipped. Which may or may not actually preclude it from the category. Miles doesn’t like to think of it like a god, if only because that’s too much for him to wrap his head around. And he doesn’t know what that would make him. Still, that doesn’t make comprehending it any easier. It’s beyond him, beyond any level of humanity, and what does that foster but a sense of divinity that can only result in bowed heads and averted eyes?

      Is that how an insect would feel trapped beneath a scrutinizing lens? Like god was looking down at it, ready to pinch off its wings?

      “It’s in your nature to induce madness. Intimidation and fear are naturally pathways towards that conclusion.” Something it’s more than familiar with. That’s what it thrives on, after all. Nothing corrodes and erodes the mind quite like fear. Miles isn’t a fool either – he recognizes the look of a predator when he sees one. Gods, monsters, predators, who gives a fuck what you call them. All they want is to watch humanity squirm.

      Neither Miles nor the Swarm entertains the assumptions of protectiveness with a response. Neither want to give the other unnecessary ammunition or indication of weakness, because that’s certainly what their attachment would qualify as.

      He snorts then. “Why should we tell you shit? If you’re really some all-powerful… whatever the fuck you are, you shouldn’t need the history lesson.” The less it knows – the less anyone knows – about the Walrider, the better. There’s safety in being something of an enigma. 

“Is it?” Azathoth asks, and surprisingly enough, it doesn’t sound quite so sarcastic and above it all. It seems to genuinely wonder, though sure enough, it’s pretty quick to give the other another chuckle anyway. “Given your...hearty reaction, I suppose it is” it answers its own question, stills keeps Lance’s body at a distance.

“Nature. I like that.”

For a moment, Lance wishes that he could be part of this whole discussion. In charge of his own body and mouth, so he can ask it his very own questions. He knows that technically, he can ask it regardless. In his head, where they’re talking all the time anyway, but still. Sometimes he wishes he could come face to face with it, the same way he’s face to face with Miles and that thing inside the other.

What are you really. Why don’t you know any of this yourself? Why do you behave like a child would at times? So oblivious to your own nature and everything around you? I thought you’re a fucking god. You bend time and space. So why don’t you know everything? Who are you, really?

The right corner of his mouth inches upward and a soft snort escapes him. Other than that though, it does not provide any answers. Miles, or that thing inside him, proceeds to ask the very same questions. In their own way. And surprisingly enough, Azathoth chooses to answer them instead. Fucking figures. It walks back over to the desk and the things it has already touched and studied before, eager to get handsy with them once more as it speaks.

“As much as I adore my dearest pet, being bound to a human body and mind  does come with its limits” it replies as it keeps leafing through some of Miles’ research on the table now. It shoots the other a quick look and lopsided smirk. “Don’t get me wrong. There’s a lot of energy to be had in here, given how delightfully paradoxical he’s become. Just as much in flux as I am, all wrong and against nature. I’m sure you’ve noticed that by now” it goes on and on, making his own voice sound so fucking proud of, yes, all the things that had gone wrong for him the moment he set foot in that building. Having the wrong age now after ending up in the wrong time with the wrong ‘people’.

“But even his mind would just...” CRACK it suddenly goes, as the coffee mug on the table splinters into hundreds of tiny pieces, which then start to burn and turn to dust within an instant. “...the second I use the tools my all-powerful nature provides. Besides...I’ve been asleep for so very long, old friend.” Just like that, the huge grin is right back for a second.

“I’ve got so much catching up to do. That’s why you should tell me. We’re kindred spirits, are we not? We can learn so much from each other. You’re right. I don’t need a history lesson. I don’t need anything. I want.” For a second, all hairs on Lance’s body stand up a bit as the room gets charged with a sudden tension, intensity. That all too familiar sensation of hunger overcoming him, driving him fucking insane with just that. Want. Yet, this goes away as quickly as it’s come, the look on his face turning almost...sweet.

“And right now I want us to be friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. So what do you say?”

[notcaycepollard]

Every take on Israel Sadsack Hands I have seen slash said in the last three days:

I want to study him like he's a little bug in a jar

my favorite queer homophobe

YOUR HONOR HE IS A FREAK BITCH

I want to introduce distressing items into his enclosure and examine his reactions. Like enrichment activities for a tiger in a zoo but the opposite.

he needs to be pickled

the very definition of “I can make him worse”

I like that if I stepped too hard near him he'd lose his balance

I want to put him in a jar and shake it violently

Izzy's internalised homophobia 🤝 my internalised homophobia

he needs to have a shiny hat glued to his stupid fucking head

I love this sad garbage dead dove of a man

I want to smash custard pies in his ratfucker little face and make him die inside when people call him sweetheart

he's just neat, what can I say?

Izzy is a masc4masc simp

he is both the donkey and the tail to be pinned

if Izzy wasn't literally unbearable to witness as a person, yeah he'd be hot

I love this little rat freak with my entire heart but I do want him to get punched

I feel like izzy would listen to creep by radiohead

“I can fix him” why fix something that is perfect broken

I love him unironically

Izzy Hands is t4t representation

I think he needs to eat at least one more toe before he can have a redemption arc

no no he's hot you're right

the scrunkly

I waded through the sweet soft topsoil layer of ofmd fanfiction to find those nasty little izzy nuggets at the bottom

i ship izzy with mutiny

he was not upset enough about eating his toe. suspicious

izzy my beloathed

Izzy Hands has 68 mental illnesses and has been banned from most public places

izzy hands my babygirl <33

things that feel gay and homophobic at the same time

he's canonically divorced blackbeard

if he and Blackbeard slept together he would be so much less of an asshole

Izzy “pick me” Hands

obsessed with this little freak

I want to feed him the rest of his fucking toes

absolutely unhinged behavior from the jump. icon.

he is fantastic representation for us haters and I really appreciate that

we are all just scrambling around in this little fucker's head like a museum after dark touching all his thoughts and moving things 2 inches to watch him squirm about it

I want to pin him down like a butterfly and look at him under a microscope

quite fucked up! very good!!!!

I'd feed him the rest of his toes but he would probably like that

he's done nothing wrong ever

man is made out of 100% concentrated brat energy

he's my favorite character but I also need him to pay for his crimes

[kinglazrus]

Crystal Heart

Phic phight 2020

Submitted by @that-dumbass-on-a-horse: Ghost sickness. Maddie and Jack try to fix it, but make it worse instead

Summary: When a ghost boy becomes a ghost man, his body goes through certain changes. And when his parents find out and try to help him, they inevitably almost kill him in the process. Almost.

Warnings: non-graphic body horror (melting)

Word count: 7248

I had to look up pictures of blood cells under a microscope and that was actually super cool. I love it when fanfiction involves fun research

As soon as Maddie saw the green flush on Danny's cheeks, she knew what it was. Some dastardly ectoplasmic pathogen from the Ghost Zone had infected her baby boy. It must have been from all the time he spent in the lab. Too many times, Maddie had caught him sneaking up from the basement with a sheepish look on his face. Occasionally, Sam and Tucker were with him. Maddie would have to get them tested for whatever illness currently afflicted Danny.

"I'm telling you, I feel fine," Danny said, looking anything but fine. He lay in bed, cheeks flushed an unearthly green. Sweat shone on his forehead.

"Good try, mister. Maybe I'll believe you when you stop covering your mouth like you have to puke," Maddie chastised her son. Standing with her hand on her hip, she shook her head. She had heard of teens faking illness to get out of school; it was so touching to know her boy wasn't like that.

"Mom, really, I'm fine," Danny insisted. He covered his mouth as he spoke, earning a very pointed glare from Maddie.

"I've already called the school. They know you're staying home today. Don't worry, your father and I will get you fixed up."

Panic and desperation filled Danny's eyes. It warmed Maddie's heart to see it. Who knew he cared so much about his classes? With how his grades had been dropping over the past year, she thought he had given up on school.

After pinning Danny with one last stern look, Maddie left his room and headed down to the kitchen. There should be a few packages of chicken noodle soup in the pantry for her to make. They usually kept a well-stocked supply dry soups, pastas, and other side dishes for the days dinner came to life. Maddie scanned the shelves, dragging her fingers across the various boxes, and grinned when she found the one she wanted. Pulling it out, she saw there was only one package left. It looked like they would need to restock soon.

Maddie quickly set to work making the soup, throwing the mixture of noodles and powder into a pot of water, turning the stove on low to simmer, and setting the oven timer to remind herself when to check it. With that done, she headed down to the lab.

Jack was hunched over his workstation, beakers laid out on the counter in front of him. Bubbling mixtures of various consistencies and colours filled the beakers, steam rising from more than a few even though they weren't set over heat.

"Danny's staying home today," she told Jack. "I think he caught a ghost bug."

"No son of mine is gonna get taken down but a ghost! I'll squash it like a fly!"  declared.

Maddie smiled fondly and shook her head. "No, Jack. Not a bug ghost, a ghost bug. He's sick."

"Oh. Well, we'll squash that sickness anyway! And then we'll squash the ghost that gave it to him! And then we'll squash Phantom!"

"You said it, honey!" She kissed Jack on the cheek before heading to her own station. Taking a test sample kit out from the cupboard, she pulled out a Fenton Swab and a Fenton Tube. They were nearly identical to the standard cotton swab and sample tube they were modelled after, except the Fenton versions were designed to withstand ectoplasm's acidic properties. They also had the word Fenton on them.

"Whatcha doing, Mads?" Jack asked, briefly looking up from his work.

"I want to rule out environmental factors. Danny spends so much time down here, and he never wears a jumpsuit since his got misplaced. We need to make sure the portal doesn't contain any contagions that could make others sick," she explained. Sticking her thumb against the DNA scanner, she opened the portal doors.

Green light spilled over the lab floor, rippling over the metal panels. Carefully, Maddie took the Fenton Swab and stuck it in the portal's swirling mass. It wasn't like sticking something in water. The ectoplasm in the portal had no resistance. Even though it looked opaque from afar, up close it more resembled a colourful mist. Swirling her hand around, she dragged the swab through the ectoplasm, coating it thoroughly.

It was mesmerizing. Despite how long she and Jack had studied ectoplasm for, she still didn't understand how its state of matter worked. It could go from solid to gas in an instant, or hang in the air like a fog and become liquid the moment it touched something. Sometimes it took minutes to dissipate, other times it took hours. There were so many contradicting circumstances, it was fascinating.

Perhaps ectoplasm was its own state of matter that couldn't be defined by Earthly physics.

Maddie waited until ectoplasm was practically dripping off the cotton end before pulling her hand back out, dropping the swab into the sample tube. Analyzing it would be easy enough. They had studied samples from the portal before, but ectoplasm's most consistent trait was how inconsistent it was. You could take two ectoplasmic samples from a single entity one week apart and their surface properties would be completely different.

The one core characteristic was a unique pattern of crystallization, visible with careful observation under a microscope. Each ghost seemed to have their own pattern. In some cases, they were highly personal. The ghost who liked to shout about boxes all the time had a square crystallization pattern.

If she could isolate the ectoplasm making Danny sick, she could compare the pattern with the portal and see if they matched. If they did, then she could study the rest of the portal sample and see what was making Danny sick.

Maddie tapped her foot as she placed a drop of ectoplasm on a slide and put it under the microscope, setting the rest of the sample aside for later testing.

"No need for that!"

Maddie paused just before putting her eye to the lens, turning to face Jack instead.

He grinned widely at her, holding out one of the beakers from his desk. "I've got our solution right here!" He wiggled the beaker. The thick purple substance inside barely jiggled. "It's the newest version of ecto-dejecto. This time, it actually works."

Reaching out, Jack took the sample Maddie had put aside. He stuck the swab into the purple goo; it stayed standing upright when he let go. The goo around the swab hissed and steamed.

"Is it supposed to do that?" Maddie asked.

"Uh, maybe?"

Green bubbles bloomed across the top layer of goo, quickly expanding upward. Jack yelped and dropped the beaker as the ectoplasm foamed over his hand. The beaker shatterd as soon as it hit the ground, glass shards going flying. The goo kept expanding, fizzing and frothing as it changed from purple to green, growing until it was a mound as big as a medium sized dog. With a few final hisses, the ectoplasm settled.

"It doesn't work yet, but it will," Jack said, confidence unshaken.

"I know it will," Maddie said. She had complete faith in her husband. Jack might bumble around sometimes, but his mind was truly brilliant. Where other people looked at things and saw only what was on the surface, Jack saw everything. He always excelled more on the chemistry side of things, even if he had a few mishaps every now and then.

It's what made them such a good team. Maddie handled the math, physics, and most of the weapon construction while Jack handled the ideas. She brought his head out of the clouds when he went too far. He raised her up so she could see all the possibilities and push them farther.

"Well, hey, I've got more ectoplasm to test with now," Jack said. He bent down and prodded the quivering mass.

In the silence, Maddie heard the oven beeping upstairs.

"Oh, shoot, Danny's soup." Maddie leapt out of her seat. She snatched a spare swab and sample tube from the counter and took off for the stairs. "Don't forget to clean up the glass!" She tossed the words over her shoulder, hoping Jack heard her.

On the stove, the pot was boiling over. Water hissed as it doused the element, steam and smoke clouding over the stove. Maddie grabbed a tea towel and shoved the pot off the element, accidentally splashing more water out.

"Oh, no," she grumbled, shutting off the stove. She took in the mess with a defeated sigh. There was more soup on the counter than there was in the pot. The timer must have gone off some time ago, or she had set it for too long. Tossing the tea towel over the spilled soup, she left it there to soak up some of the mess and went to the fridge instead, hoping they had something she could give Danny.

Her prospects were slim. Some questionable lunch meat that was about to expire. A door full of condiments. A ceramic pot that rattled every few seconds. Its lid was tied down to keep the reanimated fruit cocktail from escaping. Overall, the fridge was woefully empty. Maddie really needed to go grocery shopping.

She ended up taking a carton of orange juice from the door, pouring a glass, and decided Danny would have to settle for this until she came back from the store.

"Danny, sweetie?" Maddie asked, gently knocking on his door. It creaked open. Peeking inside, she saw his empty bed. A clatter from the bathroom drew her attention. "Oh, Danny." She shook her head, setting the glass of orange juice down on his dresser, and headed down the hall.

The door was shut. Soft white light shone underneath it, not nearly as bright as it should have been. One of the lights above the mirror must have burnt out again. Gently, she knocked and called Danny's name.

"Uh, just a minute!" Danny said.

The light under the door flared, then settled. Maddie heard the toilet flushing, followed by a quick burst of water from the tap. Finally, the knob turned, the lock clicking out of place, and Danny eased the door open. He kept one hand over his mouth.

"Hey, Mom. What brings you here?" he asked. Behind his palm, Maddie saw his lips twitch into a smile.

"You do, young man. I told you to stay in bed," Maddie said, crossing her arms.

"Bathroom. Had to go. You know how it is," Danny said. Using his elbow, he bumped the door open wider, his other hand pressed against his head. He squeezed past Maddie and shuffled backward toward his room. "But bed sounds like a great idea. In fact, I think I'll have a nap. No need to check on me or anything. You don't even need to open the door!"

He chuckled weakly, sidling into his room, and kicked the door shut.

Maddie wasn't sure what to make of all that. Danny hadn't even shut off the bathroom light. Reaching through the doorway to do just that, she noticed something odd. The toilet lid was down. Danny had the habit of leaving it up, no matter how much she reminded him not to. It was a small detail, but an curious one nonetheless. She decided not to dwell on it. More than likely, he was finally starting to build up the habit.

Maddie was halfway down the stairs when she remembered she needed a spit sample from Danny. Heading back up, she paused on the landing when she heard Danny talking, voice low.

"I don't know what's wrong." He sounded panicked. "I've only been awake for a couple hours but it's getting worse."

Maddie stopped. Instead of pushing Danny's door open, she crept forward, holding her ear against it. While she would never let Danny get away with eavesdropping, as his concerned mother, she had the right to listen in on his conversation.

"I don't know. My mouth was kind of hurting yesterday, but that's a whole other thing, right?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Tucker! I'm being serious here! First it was the blush, and then it was my hair." Maddie frowned at that. "What's next? My eyes?"

Danny's dresser rattled—she hoped he saw the orange juice—and he groaned. "Yep, it's the eyes now!"

Maddie really should go in there. Her baby was clearly panicking and needed her help.

"I don't care about my teeth!"

In a minute. She would go in, in a minute.

"Ugh, fine, whatever." Maddie heard Danny shuffling around, drawers opening and closing. It lasted for a full thirty seconds before he spoke again. "Okay, I got it. Happy now?" His words slurred slightly, as if he wasn't closing his mouth all the way.

Deciding enough was enough, Maddie pushed the door open without knocking. "Sorry, Danny, I forgot that I... needed..." The excuse died on her lips as she got a good look at Danny.

Green swirled in his eyes and a white streak cut through his hair. Danny spit out the large Saturn pendant of his chewable necklace and whispered into his phone. "Tucker, I got to go." Tossing his phone back into his bed, he stepped forward and raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Mom, I can explain."

"Oh, my poor baby, you're so much worse than I thought," Maddie said. She rushed forward, taking Danny's face in her hands, and turned his head to the side so she could examine the streak in his hair. His bangs were white from root to tip. Using her thumb and forefinger, she pulled his eye open wide and examined his iris.

It looked like the infection was spreading. She thought it was a simple case of contamination, but that wouldn't do this. The green blush, yes, but changing his hair and eyes? Altering his physical and chemical makeup? This was serious.

"I'm sorry, Danny. Your nap has to wait. You're coming down to the lab with me now." Taking Danny by the wrist, Maddie pulled him out of his room.

"It's really not what you think!" Under his breath, he added, "I hope it's not what I think, either."

"Danny, your father and I are experts. Whatever you think it is, it isn't. Your dad is working on a cure right now. But at the rate this is accelerating, I can't let you out of my sight. I have to check all your vitals and keep detailed notes about how this progresses," Maddie said. "This is nothing like the ghost flu your father and I had."

"I still say that was just a regular flu."

"Now is not the time for your sass." Maddie dragged Danny all the way down to the lab.

Glass no longer littered the floor, although the blob of ectoplasm still sat beside Maddie's chair. Pulling the chair out, she pushed Danny into the seat and wheeled him across the lab to the medical station. Setting him out of the way in the hollow of the safety shower, Maddie opened the cupboard beneath the eyewash station and pulled out what she needed.

Beyond the run of the mill first-aid kit, the lab had a few tools you would find in a standard health clinic.

Danny squirmed and tried to leave his seat a few times, but Maddie kept pushing him back down. She didn't let him stand until she had taken his vitals, checked his eyes, nose, and throat, and gave him a thorough physical exam.

"Mom!" Danny whined when Maddie lifted shirt. She ignored him, looking over his body for signs of discolouration. There weren't any, yet. She suspected it was only a matter of time.

"Jack, how's that ecto-dejecto coming?" she asked.

"Almost got it!"

"Ecto-dejecto?" Danny paled.

Maddie sent him a reassuring smile. "It's okay. We're fixing the recipe so that it destabilizes the ectoplasm rather than makes it stronger. It will make it easier for your body to flush out the toxins." Her eyes dropped to the pendant around Danny's neck, his conversation with Tucker returning to mind. "What was Tucker talking about with your teeth?"

She had only spared them a brief glance when checking Danny's through, more concerned with hidden rashes or pustules.

"You were spying on me?" Danny's cheeks flushed in anger. "So not cool!"

"Danny, I'm your mother and I'm worried about you. You're sick."

"I'm fine! That doesn't make it okay to spy on me."

"You'll understand when you're older."

Danny tipped his head back and groaned.

"Now, open your mouth."

Danny squinted at her, which earned him nothing but a motherly glare. Stubborn but relenting, he slowly opened his mouth. Maddie rolled her eyes at her son's antics. Once his mouth was open wide enough, she checked his teeth. Nothing looked out of the ordinary.

"What's bothering you about them?" she asked. The hair and eyes were undoubtedly ghost-related matters. So far, Maddie was inclined to agree with Danny that his mouth pains were simply a coincidence.

"My gums just started hurting yesterday. Like there was a lot of pressure or something," Danny explained.

"And the necklace?"

"Chewing on something kind of helped, I guess. That was the first time I tried it, but it felt okay."

Something about that resonated with Maddie. She leaned back, frowning. It sounded like what happened when children teeth. When Danny was a baby growing in his teeth for the first time, he chewed on everything to make it stop hurting. Maddie had to throw out so many of his stuffed animals because he chewed on them until they were too dirty to keep.

"Can you pull your lips down?"

Danny obliged, raising his chin so Maddie could get a better look. The gums looked fine, no bumps or bulges, and his teeth were still in line.

"Top lip," she said.

Hooking his finger under his lip, Danny pulled it up. Maddie's eyes widened immediately. On the left side, between his canine tooth and lateral incisor, the sharp tip of a new tooth poked out of his gums. It looked like it was growing over his other teeth.

"You have an extra tooth," she declared.

"A what?" Danny shouted. He ran his fingers along his top teeth, pausing to feel the new one growing in.

"It's fine," Maddie said, waving off his concern. "Your father had one growing behind his incisor in college. He just had to get it removed. It's not related to whatever this," she gestured to his hair and eyes, "is."

"Oh." Danny deflated, looking relieved, although he didn't take his finger out of his mouth. He kept touching the new tooth. Swivelling in the chair, he leaned toward the wall, examining his reflection in the shining surface.

"Mads! I did it!" Jack's heavy steps thudded across the lab as he pounded over.

Content that Danny was occupied and wouldn't slip away the second she took her eyes off him, Maddie focused on Jack. He bounced on his heels, holding out a test tube filled to the brim with a yellow-tinged liquid.

"It's all about using the ectoplasm's natural properties against itself. If we can lock it in a liquid state, the ectoplasm loses hold of its form and liquifies! Just watch." He scurried back to Maddie's workstation.

With a careful tip of his hand, he poured a single drop of ecto-dejecto on the solidified ectoplasm. Sickly yellow patches spread across its surface. The ectoplasm started breaking down. Sloughing off in chunks, layer upon layer melted away, dripping down to the floor until only a wide green puddle remained.

"It's perfect! Pass me the syringe."

Jack got the needle ready in record time. Maddie wasn't concerned about giving Danny the ecto-dejecto without doing trials on living creatures first. Anti-ectoplasmic agents, by their very nature, did not harm living tissue. They isolated and attacked ectoplasm and ectoplasm alone. For this reason, anti-ghost weaponry was completely harmless to humans. Ghost shields, ghost guns, none of them could hard people.

It was also was the very same reason why Maddie and Jack did not have strict rules barring Danny and Jazz from the lab. They wanted their children to be curious. What better way to promote an interest in science then let them explore it in a safe manner with chemicals and compounds that would not harm them?

Danny was still examining his reflection, although he was probing something on the right side of his mouth instead.

Maddie pushed up his t-shirt sleeve. "Hold still, sweetie," she said, and stabbed his shoulder with the needle. Pressed the plunger, she injected him with the ecto-dejecto.

"Ow!" Danny flinched, jerking around to face Maddie. His gaze caught on the needle in her hand. "What was that?"

"Don't worry, you'll be all better by tomorrow," Maddie assured him.

"No, really." Danny stood up. He swayed, careening into the wall, and gasped. Staring down at his hands, he flexed his trembling fingers. "Seriously." He looked up at Maddie, helpless. "What was that?"

His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.

"Danny!" Maddie dropped to her knees beside him, Jack joining her a second later. Panic overwhelmed her. That shouldn't have happened. The ecto-dejecto was perfect. It should have worked flawlessly. Instead, Danny's skin around the injection site was quickly turning a dark, sickly green. His breathing was shallow, and his eyelids fluttered.

Pressing two fingers to Danny's neck, Maddie felt his pulse, erratic. What happened? What went wrong? What did Maddie do? She couldn't shake the feeling that she had just sent Danny to his grave.

"Mads." Jack's voice snapped her out of her spiralling thoughts. "We need to get him to the hospital. I'll carry him up to the RV. You call Jazz. We'll get her taken out of school."

"Right. Right." Maddie nodded, swallowing thickly. She had never been more thankful to have Jack by her side. Right when her vision started narrowing and all she could see was one outcome—Danny dead, Maddie his murderer—Jack was there to pull her up.

Moving back, she gave Jack room to gather Danny up. Jack was a big man, with thick arms and heavy-looking hands, but he cradled Danny so gently, as if he was a baby again.

"See the big picture, focus on the little steps," Jack said.

"Big picture, little steps," Maddie repeated. The words rang out in her head, over and over like a mantra. Big picture, little steps. Saving Danny, calling Jazz. Her phone was at her workstation. While Jack carried Danny upstairs, Maddie sprinted over to her station, snagging her phone off the counter. She easily found the number for Casper High.

"Casper High, this is Connie Burjan."

"H–hello Ms. Burjan." Maddie took a deep breath and smoothed out her voice. "This is Madeline Fenton, calling for Jasmine Fenton. I'm her mother."

"What can I do for you?"

"There's an emergency and we need to pull Jazz out of school. She needs to be with her family right now."

"Of course. I'll call her to the principal's office. I hope everything will be alright."

Maddie gave a rueful grin. "So do I." She hung up and headed upstairs.

Jack already had Danny in the back of the RV, laid out on one of the benches. He looked so small curled up on his side, shaking and shivering. Seeing him like that sent a surge of loathing through Maddie. She did this.

"You take Danny to the hospital. I'll pick up Jazz," Jack said, motioning to the little-used family car.

"No, we can't," Maddie said. She cursed softly. "We never got the transmission fixed."

They used the car so little. It was a relic from days past, the same vehicle Jack had in college. These days, they preferred the RV both because of its size and its ghost defenses.

"We pick up Jazz on the way," Jack said.

Maddie didn't want Jazz to see her brother this way, but she nodded anyway. They could leave Jazz at school for the rest of the day, but that didn't feel right. The whole family needed to be together.

Jack climbed into the back with Danny, sitting on the floor rather than the bench opposite his, while Maddie got in the front seat. Starting the car, she practically tore out of the garage, ripping through the back alley behind their house. She may have been a less hazardous driver than Jack, but she was just as fast.

"It's okay. You're gonna be okay," Jack whispered. Looking in the rear-view mirror, Maddie saw him running his hands through Danny's hair in a soothing gesture. It reminded her of when Danny was little. He used to get sick so easily, stuck at home for days on end with a cold or flu. One of them would sit with him until he fell asleep, reading books about astronomy and brushing his hair like Jack was doing now.

Maddie's grip on the steering wheel tightened. This was nothing like back then. The bruise on Danny's arm had spread, a spotty discolouration taking over the whole limb.

When they got to the school, Jazz was already waiting outside, standing on the front steps. She ran up the sidewalk the second the RV came into view, bounding toward the vehicle. Jack threw the door open for her.

"What happened? Ms. Burjan didn't say," Jazz said. Her gaze fell to Danny. She paled, cupping her mouth. "Danny!"

She clambered into the car, leaving Jack to shut the door again, and immediately knelt in front of her brother. Her hands hovered over him before she touched his forehead, feeling his temperature. "What happened?" she asked.

"He was sick. Some kind of ghost sickness. We�� I gave him ecto-dejecto to flush it out," Maddie explained shakily. She couldn't meet her daughter's eyes.

Jazz stared down at Danny. Gnawing on her thumbnail, she kept swivelling her head back and forth, glancing between Danny, Jack, and Maddie. She looked conflicted.

"Jazz?" Jack asked, seeing the same indecision as Maddie.

"You can't take him to the hospital," Jazz said. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Danny, and pulled him into a protective embrace.

"Jasmine! Your brother needs a doctor!" Maddie said.

"No, you don't understand!" Jazz shook her head vigorously. "You can't take him, they'll– they'll find out."

"Find out what?" Jack asked.

She bit her lip, holding Danny closer. Whispering an apology in Danny's ear, she raised her head and glared defiantly at Maddie and Jack. "They'll find out Danny's not human!"

Maddie slammed her foot on the breaks. Jack's arms shout out to brace himself on the sides of the RV. Jazz yelped, sliding forward, and curled around Danny to protect him as he fell halfway off the bench.

Panting, Maddie turned around and stared at Jazz. "He's what?" she asked.

Jazz shifted, putting herself between Danny and Maddie, as if he needed protecting from her. "He's not human," she repeated. "He's... his accident. It did something to him." Shaking her head, she continued, "If you take him to the hospital, they'll report him. It's in that stupid ecto act the G.I.W. have. Any cases of ecto-contamination need to be reported so they can take care of it."

Maddie's mind refused to process that information. She heard it, loud and clear, but she couldn't comprehend it. Of course Danny was human. He was her son, her baby boy, her flesh and blood. She brought him into this world. To say he wasn't human was just ridiculous. Impossible. No accident could change someone that much. No accident could take away someone's humanity.

The streak in Danny's hair stood out, glaringly bright, against his dark locks. The bruising had spread to his neck now. It would only be a matter of minutes before it touched his cheeks, too.

"Jazz, what happened to Danny?" Maddie was afraid of the answer.

"I can't tell you," Jazz whispered. "It's not my secret. I already said too much. But anything that could help him? None of that is going to be at the hospital. If ecto-dejecto did this to him, he doesn't need human medicine."

Maddie paled.

"Jazzypants," Jack said softly, reaching out.

Jazz scooted back, taking Danny with her. "We have to go back home. And you have to promise me. You have promise that, no matter what you find out, you won't hurt Danny."

"Jazz–"

"Promise!"

"We promise," Maddie said.

"Okay." Jazz nodded. "Okay. Let's get Danny home."

Facing forward, Maddie turned the RV around.

—

The couch was hardly sanitary. Jack and Maddie had to carry it in from the garage, and it was covered in dust. Maddie told Jazz as much, but her daughter refused to let them put Danny on the examination table.

"I can't let him wake up like that, lying there, with you looking over him," Jazz said. "It's his worst nightmare."

It broke Maddie's heart to hear that.

Jazz sat with Danny, his head in her lap. She had taken Jack's place stroking his hair. Maybe that was for the best. Based on what Jazz said, Danny wouldn't react well to either Maddie or Jack being the first face he saw if we woke up.

When, Maddie corrected herself. When he wakes up.

The couch sat all the way across the lab, as far from Maddie and Jack as it could get. Not to keep Danny away from them, but because they hadn't cleaned up the puddle of ectoplasm on the floor yet. It was a medical hazard, not to mention an accident waiting to happen, but they had other things to focus on right now.

Maddie forced herself to look away from her children, a heartfelt scene, and turned back to her microscope. She had a sample of Danny's blood underneath it and was looking for signs of crystallization. If she wanted to treat him right, she needed to know just how ghostly he was, and if he was even sick in the first place.

Danny himself said he didn't know what was going on.

Zooming in forty times, one hundred times, four hundred times, Maddie scowled in frustration. She could see his blood cells, but she couldn't see any crystallization. It didn't make sense.

"Anything, Jack?" Maddie asked, pulling back from the lens.

Jack, sitting beside her, leaned forward and scrutinized the computer screen. It was plugged in to the microscope, showing the same view Maddie saw of the sample. He shook his head.

"I don't get it. It should be there," he said.

Maddie nodded. Switching out Danny's sample for the ectoplasm from the portal, she shifted closer to Jack and scoured the screen. The image was blindingly bright. Unlike human blood, which could be seen as individual cells when you looked close enough, ectoplasm remained one solid mass no matter how far you zoomed in. The only thing that seemed to change was how large the crystallization lines were.

In the portal's sample, they swirled together in spiral patterns. It mimicked the way the ectoplasm moved in the portal itself.

Maddie wondered how that worked. Other ghosts had some form of conscience that seemed to influence and be influenced by their ectoplasm, resulting in unique patterns. The portal, however, had no consciousness. Perhaps all ambient ectoplasm from the Ghost Zone would bear an identical pattern. It was something they would have to look into, once Danny was fine.

Staring at the bright screen too long hurt Maddie's eyes. She was forced to look away, rubbing spots out of her vision. There had to be something they were missing.

Jack drummed his fingers on the table and hummed.

"What is it?" Maddie asked.

"Ectoplasm isn't blood," he said.

Maddie blinked, confused. "Yes?"

"So, why are we looking at Danny's blood like it's ectoplasm?"

Maddie blinked again. Her thoughts snapped into place. "Of course!" she shouted. She switched the ectoplasm with Danny's sample once again, zooming the microscope in to one thousand.

"Enlarge the image," Maddie said.

On the computer keyboard, Jack tapped a few keys, doing as asked. The image blew up to fill the screen.

Maddie pointed to one of Danny's red blood cells. "There," she said. She traced her nail along a thin line just barely visible, cutting across the cell. "Ectoplasm is one solid mass, as far as we know, but blood isn't. The crystallization appears on the individual cells, not around them."

"You found something?" Jazz called from across the room.

"You betcha, Jazzypants!" Jack whooped, throwing up his arms.

Maddie left him to celebrate, focusing instead on the pattern she could see. It looked like starbursts. Of course they would, this was Danny. She expected nothing less from her space-loving son. Scanning the image over and over, she tried to see if she could tell exactly how ghostly Danny was. The crystallization appeared fainter, but there was just as much of it as any ectoplasmic sample, simply reduced to a smaller space. Maddie's gaze caught on one of the cells in the corner of the image.

"That's odd," she said. "Jack, look at this." She beckoned him closer, pointing to what had caught her attention. "That cell there. It's the same swirl pattern as the portal.

"You're right," Jack murmured, fascinated.

Tapping her finger on her cheek, Maddie kept staring. There was something else about the pattern, something that nagged at her. It was almost familiar, which should be impossible because every ghost was unique.

"Jack, compare this sample to other ones we have logged in the system," Maddie said.

Behind her, Jazz called, "You don't need to do that!"

"Yes we do."

On the computer monitor, Maddie saw Jazz's reflection. Jazz carefully lifted Danny's head, sliding off the couch, and set him back down. Scurrying across the lab, her socks slipped on the metal tiles.

"Jazz, be careful!" Maddie swivelled her chair around, reaching out to Jazz, but was too late to catch her. Jazz's feet shot out from under her and she hit the ground hard. She groaned, rubbing her backside.

"You should be more careful, you almost fell into the..." Maddie's words died out. The puddle of ectoplasm was gone. "Jack, did you clean up the mess from earlier?"

"Hm? The glass? Yeah, I got it all," he said.

"No, not that, the–" A green blur shot across the lab.

Maddie leapt to her feet, instinctively reaching for an ecto-weapon, but she wasn't wearing any. The green mass zipped back and forth, moving erratically, too fast for Maddie to see. Until it stopped over Danny, hovering.

The ghost was small, about the size of a puppy. It had no arms or legs, just a shimmering body. Spiral patterns danced across its skin, shifting constantly. Yellow rash-like patches smothered the spirals in some places.

Maddie's gaze fell from the ghost to where the puddle of ectoplasm had been mere minutes ago.

"It didn't work," she said quietly, gaping at the ghost.

"Maddie, you should look at this."

"No, Jack, it didn't work!"

"Baby, you really need to look at this!"

Maddie turned, annoyed Jack wasn't listening to her, and froze. The computer had found a match in the crystal patterns. Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom, one hundred percent.

—

There were only so many dramatic revelations Maddie could handle in one day. First Danny had a ghost flu, then it was worse than a flu, then he was dying, then he wasn't, and then it turned out he was dead all along. Her heart couldn't take it.

She sat on the floor in front of Danny's couch, watching him sleep. The reanimated ghost slept with him, curled up on his back. It was almost cute. Normally, Maddie would have blasted the thing to shreds by now for even getting close to Danny, much less touching him. But right now, that ghost was a sign of hope.

Not only did the ghost recover from the ecto-dejecto, but it gained consciousness. Unless, of course, the portal was conscious after all. That thought sent shivers up her spine. What did that say about Danny, who shared key DNA elements with the portal's ectoplasm? What did it say about the newly birthed ghost that already seemed so attached to him?

It was just Maddie, Danny, and the ghost in the lab. Jazz and Jack had gone upstairs to eat, at Maddie's insistence. It had been a harrowing day and it was barely past noon. Inching forward, she rested her elbows on the cushion beside Danny, folding her arms. The ghost on his back shuffled and yawned, but otherwise didn't acknowledge her. She took that as a good sign.

Danny had stopped shaking not too long ago. The discolouration on his skin had started fading, although not the way Maddie wanted it to. Rather than disappearing completely, it was turning a light salmon colour, a couple shades pinker than a nasty sunburn. Judging by the yellow stains that had yet to fade from the portal ghost, Danny's pink patches would not disappear completely. The sight of them sickened her. Not because they were ugly—Danny could never be ugly to her—but because they were a sign of what she had almost done.

The first few seconds after learning Danny was Phantom, Maddie felt betrayed. How could her own son not trust her with something so monumental? The second thing she felt was a cathartic realization as all the pieces fell into place. The failing grades, the absences, breaking curfew. All their inventions reacting to Danny. It explained everything. Looking back, she should have seen it sooner. Maddie really despised hindsight.

She reached out and brushed Danny's hair away from his forehead, briefly checking his temperature. Disturbingly cold, but Jazz said that was normal for him. Maddie had no choice but to trust her information.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. How many times had she threatened Danny to his face, without knowing it was really him? All the experiments she and Jack had proposed, all the ways they would take Phantom apart to figure out how he ticked. It was horrible.

"I'm so, so sorry." She ran her hand through his hair. Her palm came away wet. Confused, she stared at the ectoplasm streaked across her hand. Pushing Danny's hair back, she checked his scalp for an injury, finding a viscous patch of skin. Before Maddie could process what was happening, Danny was already halfway gone.

"No, no!" She tried to hold him together, but it didn't work. Beneath her helpless gaze, Danny melted, leaving her kneeling in a pool of his ectoplasm, horrified. Her voice caught behind her tongue and refused to move any farther. Cupping her mouth, she croaked pathetically, squeezing her eyes shut. A horrible sob tore through her throat.

Maddie gripped the edge of the couch, punching the cushion. The ghost laying there squawked in protest. Maddie's head snapped up.

"You," she said. Pulling herself up, she braced herself on either side of the ghost. "This happened to you. You came back. How did you do it? Make him come back!"

Crying out in grief, she lowered her head against the couch, shaking. Danny was supposed to be fine. He was supposed to wake up and realize Maddie and Jack knew his secret. He was supposed to wake up and smile because he didn't have to hide anymore. He wasn't... he wasn't supposed to... he couldn't...

A soft white glow filled the room. Maddie opened her eyes, nearly blinded by the light. It came from the ectoplasm. Bright stretching over the puddle, rippling outward from the center at Maddie's knees. The ectoplasm started rising, the rings rising with it, cascading downward.

Slowly, a shape took form, growing out of the ectoplasm. A faceless blob that quickly grew a head, a torso, arms. An achingly familiar form. The ectoplasm creeped back together, sucked inward as the last of the rings faded, and Danny Phantom fell forward into Maddie's waiting arms. She buried a hand on his hair, pressing his face against her shoulder, and let out a broken laugh.

Danny shifted, his arms raising, wrapping around her. "Mom?" he asked, lifting his head.

Maddie wiped her eyes on her sleeve and pulled back so she could see him. He looked different. Where white strands had glistened in Danny's human hair, a black streak now marked his ghost form. His eyes were brighter. Green flecked sparkled on his cheeks like stars. Two new, sharp teeth sat over his canines and lateral incisors on either side of his mouth. He even looked a little taller.

The discolouration remained, though. Grey instead of red.

He tipped his head down, focusing on his body. Startled into action, he yelped and scrambled away, putting distance between them. "I– I mean, Maddie. Madeline. Madeline Fenton. What are you doing here?" he said in a false, deep voice. "In your own lab. What are you doing here in your lab?"

Maddie couldn't help it. She laughed.

"Mo– addie. What, uh, what's going on right now? Am I being punked?" Danny floated back, casting a nervous glance around the room.

"I'm sorry, it's just." She paused to giggle. "How did you ever keep this a secret from us? That voice is so terrible."

"Hey! I like my voice!" Danny shouted, dropping the false voice. His eyes widened and he quickly resumed the charade. "I mean, I like my voice. This voice. This is my voice. And you... you are still laughing."

"Danny..." Maddie wiped her eyes again, this time tears of happiness. "We know."

"You... know?"

"We know."

Danny gawked at her. All it took was Maddie opening her arms and he flew forward, crashing into her.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lied," he whispered.

Maddie nearly started crying again. "I'm sorry you had to."

"I just, you and Dad. Fighting ghosts is what you do, and I panicked and didn't tell you, and then it felt like I had waited too long. But I... how do you know?" He peered up at her, tilting his head.

"Jazz told us. We thought... we thought you were dying."

"I felt like it."

Maddie cringed.

"Oh, no, geez, I didn't mean it like that. I meant before you got me with whatever that was. I don't remember anything after that and now I feel kind of great actually," Danny said in a rush. Standing up, he flexed his fists and looked down. Following his gaze, Maddie saw he was examining his reflection in the floor. "Did I go through ghost puberty or something?"

Silence stretched between them for a second.

"Oh my god," Danny said, eyes widening. "I totally went through ghost puberty."

He leaned down to get a better look. Before he could, the portal ghost barrelled into his chest, throwing him back against the couch. The ghost zipped around him, nuzzling him and saying gibberish words. At least it sounded like gibberish to Maddie.

Danny caught the ghost in his arms, trapping it against his chest in a bear hug. "And who's this?" he asked.

"Your new best friend," Maddie teased.

"Damn. Sam and Tucker will be so disappointed." Danny flopped onto his back, holding the ghost above his head as if it were a cat.

Maddie felt a sense of calm wash over her. She didn't realize she had still been nervous, but hearing Danny's sarcastic voice, seeing him play with the new ghost, her worries finally disappeared. Everything was going to be okay.

[littlelovelyspiderling]

The Photo Shoot

Here’s my take on the adorable request given to me by  @a-bad-actor !! Hope you like it!

Tony needs a photo of a young and happy face to put on Stark Industry’s website and requests Peter’s aid. When the grumpy kid can’t seem to smile normally, Stark takes matters into his own hands.

word count: 1,800

“Mr. Stark, couldn’t you find someone else to do this…?”

Peter squinted uncomfortably beneath the harsh lights, pulling at his collar. He felt like a bug being studied under a microscope—a bright, judgmental microscope. Tony Stark stood behind the camera, fiddling with the settings.

“Nope. You’re the only intern that’s here this late. And the youngest, therefore the most endearing and inspirational to potential applicants.”

“But I’m not even a real intern, Mr. Stark. It’s a front, remember?”

“Who cares? You think the 20-something-year-old grad students scrolling through the Stark Industry’s website are going to know that?” He narrowed his eyes as he racked the lens. “I just want a nice picture of a welcoming face to put on the online brochure. It’ll help encourage youngsters such as yourself to apply for all the internship positions and project grants my company is now offering.”

“That’s really cool of you, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, swallowing. “But, um…I’m just not very photogenic. I hate getting my picture taken. And my face is crazy broken out right now, so can’t you just hire someone tomorrow to pose for—?”

“The re-vamped website goes live at midnight, so no.” Tony clicked one last button on the camera’s screen, then stepped away. “Relax, kid—you look fine. Just think how awesome it will be to show all your friends a pic of your handsome mug on Stark Industry’s home page.”

Peter hung his head. “Yeah. So awesome…”

Tony scoffed. “What’s your problem? I thought you’d love this.”

The kid shrugged haphazardly. “Whatever. Let’s just get it over with.”

“Alright then, grumpy pants,” he snorted. He held up the shutter remote and gave it a shake. “Say ‘cheese’.”

The smile Peter pasted on his face was so pathetic, Tony thought he was just holding back a sneeze. Or crushing something between his teeth. He stared at him with a mixture of confusion and amusement, waiting for him to actually attempt to smile, his finger hovering over the shutter release button.

“Uh…seriously? That’s the face you’re going with? That’s what you want a quarter million people to wake up to tomorrow morning?”

Peter huffed miserably. “I told you I’m bad at this, Mr. Stark.”

“Just smile. Like you always do. Don’t think about it so much.”

The kid rolled his eyes and tried again. This time, it looked like he was in actual, physical pain, like someone was holding a knife to his back and threatening to kill him if he didn’t pretend to look happy. 

And boy, was he bad at pretending. 

Tony took a picture just to see if he’d look any better on camera. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t. If anything, he actually looked worse. Stark couldn’t help but laugh.

“Geez, Pete, are you trying to look constipated? Is that the new fad among you Gen Z types? Cuz if so, you are killing it.”

Peter blushed and stared at the floor. “I hate you.”

Chuckling, Tony stepped forward. “Here,” he said, giving his shoulders a shake. “Loosen up. Don’t stand so stiffly.”

“Why don’t you just take a picture of yourself? You’re so much better at this kind of stuff.”

“The whole website is already plastered with my face. We need a dash of youth and freshness to spice things up.” He licked his fingers and ran them through Peter’s hair, making him grimace. “But if you want, I can show you how it’s done.”

He walked behind Peter and struck a few casual poses, boasting a subtle yet winning smile. He snapped a few photos just for show while the kid threw his hands in the air.

“But see, that’s what I’m saying—it’s easy for you. For me, it’s just…not. I can’t do this. I give up.”

Tony caught him before he could sulk away. “Just one more try, that’s all I’m asking.” He turned the dejected teen back to the camera. “Imagine you’re receiving an award, or smiling at a girl you like. Anything like that. Think of something that makes you genuinely happy, and channel that energy into a nice, natural smile. You can do it.” He took a few steps back and to the side. “I’ll stay behind you so you don’t feel pressured.”

Peter sighed helplessly and stared into the daunting eye of the lens. He tried his best to do as Stark said, he really did. It wasn’t working in the slightest, but that was okay. Because Tony didn’t expect it to work. He just needed something to keep the kid distracted while he executed his real plan to make the kid smile.

When Tony stopped firing the shutter, Peter figured he was doing something wrong, and let out a frustrated groan. “I’m telling you, Mr. Stark, I can’t do it. Either find some other stupid intern for your photo, or steal a stock pic from the Internet. I just—I can’t—”

Peter’s angry rant was interrupted by two hands seizing him around the middle and squeezing his sides just above his hips. The kid let out a shriek of surprise, followed by a flood of laughter.

“AHAhahack! Whahat the—?” He sprung away, wrapping his arms around his midsection, flustered to his core. “Mr. Stark! W-what was that for?”

“Ha! I knew that would work.” Tony stepped around him and turned the camera screen for Peter to see. “Look at that smile! It’s perfect!”

In the photo, Peter’s eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was wide with smiley laughter. His head was tilted back while his cheeks glowed a gentle pink. He looked truly, genuinely happy; Stark could hardly believe it, especially compared to the slew of depressing shots taken previously.

Upon seeing the picture, the kid’s face burned. “No, no, please don’t use that.”

“Why not? You look so happy. It’s like you’re in an Old Navy ad.”

“But it’s…embarrassing,” he murmured.

Tony smiled softly. “No. It’s cute. Anyone who sees it will love it.”

“Not me…”

Stark sighed and faced the camera back towards the teenager. “Fine. I guess we’ll just have to keeping taking more until there’s one we both like.”

Without hesitating, he marched up to him, causing Peter to wince. “W-wait, what—?” Before he could get away, Stark scooped the kid into his arms and started drilling his tummy with tickles, kneading his fingers up and down his sides. The response was hysterical and instantaneous.

“Whaha—AHAHA NOHOHO! M-Mihihihister Stahahahark!” He kicked and squirmed and laughed like crazy, grappling at Tony’s wrists, his face bright and happy. “Stohohahap—wahahahait! Eheeheehahaha!”

“But this is the only way to make you smile normally,” Stark replied, chuckling at Peter’s adorable squirminess, “which would’ve been nice to know about a lot sooner. Now I know exactly how to cheer you up whenever you’re being a grouch.”

Peter managed to flail right out of his arms, but that only led to Tony pinning him to the ground and spidering his fingers underneath the kid’s T-shirt, scribbling his bare tummy in tickles. His laugher jumped in both volume and octave; his wriggling transformed into wild floundering.

“AHAHAHAHAAA!” he cried, whipping his head back and forth, bucking and squealing like a helpless piglet. “OHO SHIHIHIHITNOHOHOHAHAHA!”

“All we need is one good picture we both agree on, and then we’re done. Since you’re so picky, I’m trying to make sure we get every angle.”

“AHAHAHANY ONE! USE AHAHAHAHANY ONE! I DOHOHOHOHON’T C-CAHAHARE HAHAHA!” Tony’s evil hands clawed all over his ribs, belly, and underarms, driving the ticklish teen mad with giggles. “JUHUHAHAST STOHOHAHAHAHAP! MIHIHISTER STAHAHAHARK! EHEHAHAHAHA!”

When Stark saw tears flooding the poor kid’s eyes as he fought pathetically to escape, he finally let up. Peter was left in a bundle on the floor, panting with relief. Tony smiled down at the giggly hero. He was so cute, it almost made him sick.

“You think we got one you might like?” he chuckled.

“M-Mihihister Stahark…” he moaned, laughter still clinging to his words. “Whyhyhy…”

Tony sighed solemnly and offered him a hand. “Look, if you really don’t want your picture on the website, I won’t put one on there.”

Peter stared up and him, blinking in surprise.

“I can figure something else out. Maybe stick some silly graphic on it. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Peter hesitantly accepted his help and stood, blushing at the floor. “N-no, it’s fine. Go ahead, I don’t care.”

“Yes you do.”

The teenager winced. Tony narrowed his eyes.

“Why? What’s got you so worried about it? 99% of the people who see your picture on there won’t even know you, and probably won’t pay it a second thought.”

“Yeah, but I…” He paused, licking his lips. “I don’t know. I’m used to seeing Spider-Man’s face online, in newspapers, whatever. It’s just freaky to think about my actual face on an important website, without my mask on.”

“Don’t you use Instagram and Snapchap or whatever? You post pics of your face on the Internet all the time.”

“Yeah, but I’m in control there. And my Instagram only has, like, eighty followers, so…” Peter scratched the back of his neck. “I just wish I could have my mask on for the photo. Could we do that instead? People would much rather see Spider-Man on your website than me.”

Stark’s heart tore as he stared down at the kid. At his center, Peter Parker was still just a teenager, with all fears and insecurities that came with it. Like any teenager, he’d much rather present a facade to the world than something authentic: his true self. Tony knew it could be scary. Releasing a slow breath, he placed his hand on his head and ruffled his hair.

“But they would be seeing Spider-Man. The real Spider-Man. The best part of Spider-Man.”

When Peter’s expression stayed stony, he fluttered his fingers against his neck, causing him to cringe and giggle.

“And I for one would much rather see Spider-Man’s smiling face than some dumb mask that hides it.”

Peter glanced up at him with a shy grin. It was the most endearing thing Stark had ever seen.

Tony walked back to the camera to look through the media. Not, of course, before snapping a quick photo once he was out of frame.

“Now come on. You pick which pic makes the final cut.”

…

As anticipated, the photo didn’t stir up much of a buzz. Peter did feel a bit like a celebrity among his friends, especially the ones who refused to believe that he worked with Tony Stark. Until now.

Peter would never admit that he actually liked the picture. And Tony would never admit that he had all the pictures from the laughter-filled photo shoot saved on his network, and that he would look at them as a choppy video sequence whenever he was feeling down.

[levencamthenone]

Jerma anon back. not youe jerma posting giving me an italicized 'oh' moment. he is scrunkly, he is the moment, i think he's eaten aquarium gravel, he is a prince of the subway tunnels who will never ascend to the throne, i want him carnally, i think he's weird, i wanna put him in a specimen slide and look at him under an electron microscope, he needs to be pinned in a felt backed case and studied like a bug, i am transfixed, i am perturbed, i wanna put him in my terrarium

LITERALLY

[gothamincarnate]

this was supposed to be an ask response for @strongwilltm about Bruce and Lex’s first time. This ended up more of a drabble, so if it doesn’t line up with your bruce that’s totally cool they just kind of got away from me, the perils of having written bruce before is that i have my own ideas lol 

-- They’d been drunk in their dorm, unwinding from finals and projects. Friends becoming more, or maybe they had always been but neither one had made the first move. Not out of fear, but just... complacency. A few drinks had served to push them over into kisses, quickly devolving into more. He was a Luthor, and that’s what Luthors did. They never took things slow, and Waynes didn’t either.

Bruce was biting his way down Lex’s chest. Nibbling at the soft round flesh-- normally it would bother him, but it was Bruce, so it was alright for now. Many-a-time that Bruce had to help Lex struggle in or out of a binder.

 A soft tongue worshiping a nipple, strong thighs straddling Lex’s own, pinning him to the couch. Bruce was so much larger, made him feel small and wiry. Maybe a little dysphoric, a body that he could never have even with his workout routine and all. But for now he was too lost in lust, so he did his best to tuck it away. To try to focus on the sensations instead of his own mind.

Fingers brushed at his belt, a slight pull away as Bruce noticed the hesitation. “Is this ok?”

“Of course it is.” And he pressed on with another kiss, intent on taking what he wanted, but Bruce put a steady hand on his shoulder. Pushing him away-- the nerve! He was a Luthor, and Bruce had been fine with this just before and here he was, being rejected! Ready to struggle and hiss at the man for taking this too slowly, until he saw the sheer pain in the man’s eyes.

“I’m not going to let you do this, to use me like this.” And his words were monotone, icy but not and determined yet not cruel. It was what Lex knew best though-- sex as a weapon, or a tool for self gratification and self harm in equal measure. To escape, to ignore everything else for a while. Easier done with some anonymous body at a club, but simple enough to do with a college roommate if you just... locked everything up in a box afterwards.

Lex told him as much in response. “It’s what I want. The only way I know how to want this.” An honest answer, because it was Bruce, because he knew him, had known him off and on since they were both young. And because Bruce knew his game because he played it himself sometimes. He was being called out, being told to correct his actions, in a way that only a select few would dare, and fewer that he would even consider listening to.

Bruce pressed a softer, far gentler kiss to Lex’s temple, and Lex shivered at the idea of being loved and cared for. “Lex, you always dive into things. You hurt yourself, you hurt everyone. I don’t want this if this is how you’re going to do it.” Again, that chilling but loving tone: “Talk to me.” A finger brushed at his lips.

Lex let his muscles sink and relax against the couch. “You’re so fucking beautiful and I--No matter what I try, no one will see me the same as you.” And maybe, if he could have this, if he could have Bruce’s body, the curves of muscles under his fingers, the straight lines of his chest and hips. He could pretend for a bit.

And it was more than physical-- the Waynes were a renowned name in Gotham, one of the few good ones that no one dared sully. The inverse of his own-- a name with new money, oft-whispered conspiracies as to just how someone like that got so much in so little time. His father’s dirty business practices that he was the heir to.

The boy with dead parents, god rest their souls because they were saints. Look at him, rising above his trauma and going to college. The demon child with a dead mother and a ruthless father. Well no wonder he turned out this way, he’s going to graduate and become the next great tyrant.

They were so similar, and yet there was so much dividing the two.

He sat up on the couch, forcing Bruce to sit up as well. That wide hand and too-strong arm held him close, protecting him from his own mind. But Bruce more than anyone, knew that sometimes when the mind went to these dark places, there was nothing to be done except to ride it out until it passed.

“Too many thoughts.” Lex rested his head against Bruce’s chest, waiting for Bruce to chide him again. But he allowed it, with that studying bug-under-a-microscope look that was far too sober. Lex leaned off of the couch, pouring another snifter. Again, Bruce didn’t reject to this. Apparently hiding away from your anguish by drinking was allowed, but hiding away in physical pleasure wasn’t.

Bruce ran a hand along Lex’s arm, holding him close. “You could just come to the gym and work out with me. I could help you.”

Lex nodded, a tiny smile as he kissed at Bruce’s jaw. “That sounds nice.” And he tried again, a little nibble where he had just kissed. “Can we do something if I promise it’s not out of my patented billionare’s son self hatred?”

Bruce sighed, dropping his head and kissing Lex’s scalp. “Later. If you survive our first workout together.” A smile against Lex’s skin, a promise of things to come. “Let’s just get to sleep for now.”