#yeah no Ribbons is fucking terrified of him

[fujii-draws]

Tw for implied death/strangulation

Night terrors

[dollcherray]

୨୧ LAMB WITH TEETH ♡.°୭̥

Scout and Medic meeting an cutegore!reader ⁎⁺˳✧༚ 

Triggers: gore, lots of descriptive death, its TF2 so its the basic.

Reader's info: Reader is heavily implied to be a girl, very small (like five feet tall) and does blood rituals.

type: headcanons, romantic/platonic

୨୧ THE SCOUT ♡

୨୧ When scout first met you, he was heavily convinced you were not going to last in the battlegrounds, by your height and the way you dressed all in pink and cutesy ribbons, Not to mention that you had a bunch of stuffed animals in your bags.

୨୧ He would mock you for the first few days, calling you "short ghost", since you were always so quiet and observant, you didnt even greet him properly when he talked to you for the first time.

୨୧ The mockery would be often until the first day you had to fight together, and oh boy, shocked wasnt even close of how he felt after seeing you all covered in blood and pieces of organs.

୨୧ Your delicate and fluffy pink dress being painted by the vibrant red color of blood along with small pieces of the members of the enemy team's organs.

୨୧ Your chainsaw as pink as your dress, turned on and sawing your enemies in half without mercy, the sound of the chainsaw almost drowning out the enemy team's spy screams of pain.

୨୧ You turned off your chainsaw, leaving it aside stuck in the spy's stomach, you dashed away from the gory scenario you caused, pulling out a knife with a pink decorative bow on it, you were laughing like a maniac, ready to stab some bitches.

୨୧ he already was terrified by the thought that he understimated you who turned out being an total psycopath, and the sight he had of you chasing the other team's scout like your life depended on it didnt help at all.

୨୧ "IM GONNA USE YOUR HEAD AS MY DECORATION WALL YOU FUCKING BRAINLESS DEER" you shouted in the most terrifying, shivering voice chasing the enemy scout that was screaming like a fucking siren for his life.

୨୧ after the battle was over, Scout got real quiet around you, he wouldnt apologize or anything, he just would silently avoid talking to you.

୨୧ you noticed that, of course, but you didnt care at all, because you had other things to attend to.

୨୧ After a while, Scout little by little started trying to interact with you, to, you know, take away that guilt that he was excluding you from behind his back (or the fear that you will suddenly appears in his room to take all of his teeth out while he sleeps as revenge).

୨୧ and it turns out you're a chill person when not in killing mode or when your in "dont talk to me" mode, Scout hitted himself internally for subestimating you AGAIN.

୨୧ You two turned to be great friends in the end, but he still gets the creeps from you because of your brutal habits.

୨୧ he stays away from your room AT ALL COSTS.

୨୧ Seriously, the last time he entered your room without knocking, he witnessed you performing an creepy blood ritual with an Spy head (you TOTALLY didnt steal it from medic).

୨୧ You just waved to him like what you were doing was totally normal.

୨୧ But when hes not scared of you, he jokes with you alot, especially in the battlegrounds, he uses you as a threat alot to the enemies, or as a special weapon.

୨୧ "SAY HELLO, TO MY LITTLE FRIEND" he screams as he pulls you out of nowhere and throws you in the enemy heavy's face like a fucking bug.

୨୧ One time, you decided to pull a little prank on him, you hid yourself in his room's shadows, and when he finally entered, you jumped on him with the most terrifying screech ever.

୨୧ Lets say that Scout turned into Ariana grande that day.

୨୧ "ooo yeah your real scary." Scout said trying to keep his "toughness" after the most girly, feminine high pitched, chipmunking scream ever.

୨୧ meh, cant say that i see him dating someone as cruel as you, so 100% platonic

⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ MEDIC ୨୧

୨୧ OH NO, NOT HIM.

୨୧ Ok, i dont think he would take a liking to you at first, he would just ignore you, only thought he would have about you is that the way you dress is cute, but he would assume you were weak.

୨୧ Another one who would understimate you, the only difference is that he wouldnt mock you, its Medic, hes more mature than Scout. (anyone is more mature than scout.)

୨୧ He wouldnt even bat an eye on you, at most only wave or greet you shortly because he knows you're eerily quiet and doesnt really have a big habit of talking, until you two were in battle.

୨୧ He was healing heavy that time, and thats when he saw you stabbing an enemy demoman in the cheek repeatedly. your maniacal laughs almost silencing the demoman's screams and begs.

୨୧ He was STUNNED, he swore that he started seeing everything going in slow motion, your silky hair moving with each brutal and fast movement you did, the scarlet liquid flying into your delicate face and soft hair.

୨୧ You finished the demoman with only one hard and brute swing with your arms, your little delicate hands clutching the knife handle so hard that they were a little bit red, and with only one hard moviment, you carved your knife into the demoman's head.

୨୧ “Look! now your an unicorn” you mocked the now dead demoman infront of you, before grabbing your pink knife decorated with your enemy's blood and brain, getting up and running away like a possessed bug.

୨୧ The ex doctor's heart was beating like crazy, he didn't know what caused him to fall for you in that moment, you killing the man so brutally, or if it was your delicate pink clothes being dyed with blood. (or maybe both)

୨୧ After the battle, you could feel medic burning holes into you, he was staring you like crazy, not that it bothered you, it was just unusual for people to stare at you like that, especially when no one really dares to look at you out of feat.

୨୧ Medic would try to strike some conversation with you regardless if you answer him or not, he would just be happy with you listening to him.

୨୧ The thing that Medic most likes in you is how you can balance your cute aesthetic with your creepy habits, its really impressive to him, for him its either one or another.

୨୧ When he saw you doing your blood rituals, he would be interested, since.. you know, he already got involved with the devil himself, sometimes if you need he'll gift you with a kidney or two.

୨୧ "Well, my friend, i must say that i have subestimated vou in the first time we've met! i should judge a book by its cover less." he would confess in a casual discussion between you two.

୨୧ I think he would ask you out by gifting you a head with a note attached written: "will you steal organs with me?" real cheesy but creepy.

୨୧ He used uber on you once, not really a good idea... for the enemy team.

୨୧ You were tearing bitches left and right, there was guts and blood everywhere, in your face, body, floors, walls, EVERYWHERE.

୨୧ You only stopped when you met your demise, and medic was admiring you the entire time.

୨୧ Medic likes your killer-machine behavior, he says it adds to your cuteness ♡

[thissortofsorcery]

A little more Witch!Steve and Werewolf!Billy pspspspspspspsps

It’s juicer this time

—

"Billy? What the hell happened?!"

Steve has said these words before, in a variety of tones and levels of exasperation, but now they ring out to the open sky with a sharp note of desperation.

Billy's bleeding in his backyard.

Steve kneels down beside him where he's slumped over one of the lounge chairs, arms akimbo and on his side. There's a faint whistling sound when he breathes. Steve hasn't really been trained in healing past the basics, nothing like his mom was, so he doesn't know exactly how bad it is. He just knows it's bad.

"Billy?" Steve says, voice trembling to match the hand hovering over Billy's head. Billy doesn’t answer, hasn’t answered this whole time, and Steve is starting to panic. “Billy, come on!”

Billy starts awake when Steve’s hand lands on his shoulder, flinching away and immediately groaning in pain. But he relaxes when his eyes settle on Steve, bruised and swollen as they are.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Billy slurs, making an attempt at a smirk. It comes out more of a grimace.

“Billy, what the fuck,” Steve says. He can’t see where Billy is injured in the position he’s in, but even his denim jacket is stained a horrible, dark red. “Let me see.”

Steve tries to move Billy onto his back, touching him gently; perhaps more gently than he’s ever touched anything, even Nancy. Still, a thin moan of pain escapes from Billy’s throat, and Steve bits his lip so he doesn’t start yelling his head off. He needs to keep cool right now, or he won’t be any help to Billy.

He has the awful urge to vomit when he sees Billy’s front; what’s left of his white t shirt is soaked through with blood, and it’s in ribbons. So is his abdomen.

“How did this happen? Talk to me, man,” Steve pleads, touching Billy’s chest with a careful hand. It’s the oddest thing, though, barely any blood stains his fingers when he shifts, as if the blood is almost dry. Like the wounds aren’t fresh.

Steve’s never seen Billy with wounds older than, like, fifteen minutes. He heals fast, even for a wolf.

“You should see the other guy,” Billy mumbles. It sounds like bullshit.

“Billy, why aren’t you healing?” Steve asks. “I’ve seen you heal a broken leg in two minutes, man, what the fuck.”

“I’m fine,” Billy grunts. Then he tries to push himself up, like he’s going to try to leave.

“Stop doing that, dickhead, you’re gonna make it worse!” Steve snaps, trying to keep Billy still. They stare each other down for what feels like eternity until Billy huffs and lies back down. “You’re obviously not fine.”

“I’m gonna heal eventually,” Billy insists.

“Before you bleed out? Or can you heal from that too?!” Steve says, voice ringing sharply in the open yard. “Tell me what happened so I can help you! Are you poisoned? Why aren’t you healing?”

“It was just a fight,” Billy says, but he doesn’t have the energy to make it sound like the truth.

“Yeah, with a fucking dinosaur apparently,” Steve grumbles, while trying to push Billy’s clothes away to get a better look.

He looks awful. He looks like he should be dead. For a moment, Steve feels hopeless; he doesn’t know enough about healing to fix this, not if there’s anything in Billy’s system that’s keeping his own advanced healing from kicking in. Steve feels terrified, and young, desperately wishing his mom was here. She’d know what to do. But she’s out of town.

Steve can’t leave Billy like this. He’s gonna have to do something.

“Okay, I can do this,” Steve mutters under his breath, taking a deep breath.

—

Then something happens, I haven’t thought about a magic system yet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ don’t kill me

[reallyromealone]

Uncanny Valley reader 7

Warning nsfw

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

(Name) stood before his plush toys with an intensity Rans never seen before, he never thought this would be the thing (name) would be so stuck on but here (name) was.

"How about this, what ones are you less stressed about cleaning when I bend you and fuck you" Ran whispered in (name)s ears and watched the man straighten up a bit, back stiff and Ran smirked at his reaction as he grabbed his non rare stuffed toys that could easily be washed and wandered back to the bedroom and set them down on the bed.

Rans penthouse--- their penthouse was less showroom and more homey, the cats enjoying the sunlight from the large windows and Ran placed (name)s throw blankets around when the man was hesitant to take up space.

Rindō was already being an annoying sibling to (name), he could see how (name) and ran looked at one another, (name)s looks far more discreet than Rans blatant love struck expression whenever he looked or thought of (name).

Rindō and Ran also bought (name) clothes, casual clothes that matched the man's love of cute things.

"Maybe you could wear this... In the bedroom" Ran asked (name) while he hugged him from behind, the information broker looking at the maids dress "this isn't very good night wear" (name) said to him almost like he was stupid and ran chuckled "not for sleeping smart ass" Ran said groping the others hips "what...Oh" (name) said with realization and ran didn't miss the slight blush on the man's face "perhaps" he said letting ran pull him close "yeah? Gonna let me dress you up all pretty and fuck you good?" Ran said sneaking his hand up (name)s shirt to fondle his flesh and kiss his neck "can I introduce something to the bedroom?"

Ran wasn't expecting to be tied up while (name) touched the pretty ribbons "shibari? Who knew you were so kinky" ran teased as (name) kissed him "you look good like this" (name) said methodically as he traced rans tattoo "you look pretty good too, lower the top for me baby" ran commanded his boyfriend who did so and Ran suck on his chest while (name) stroked his cock, the two had a very fun time experimenting sexually.

(Name) had taken the time to deep dive into things sexually and Ran was more than happy to test those curiosities.

Ran had the memory of (name) hung up by ropes getting fucked by ran and fucking a flashlight in his mental spank bank forever.

(Name) rubbed their cocks together and both men let out soft breaths of pleasure as ran moved to kiss (name) and slipped his tongue in, enjoying seeing his boyfriend so flushed and needy.

Though Ran wasn't much better.

Bonten was persistent but (name) had a way to deter them.

"August sixth, 2004" (name) said simply as he looked Kakucho dead in the eyes "kakucho couldnt find a--""Ok! Thats enough" kakucno said shutting (name) up "you have made your point" he said seriously "really because im more than happy to talk about april fourth 20-""NO!"

They forgot (name)s profession.

He could find anything about anyone.

He found people who were "dead" god knows what he could find about criminals like them.

It was impressive truly.

(Name)s office was bare, no personal affects and the bare minimum.

Everything he needed on: 3 usb sticks, an external hardrive and his laptop, All secured in a triple armored safe hidden not in his office but around bonten itself. His other laptop hidden under a fake flooring in the penthouse. He had dirt on politicians to average people, he had reason to be paranoid with it all, the computer fundamentally impossible to hack into from everything he had done to it along with his phone.

(Name) was truly valuable and even more terrifying with the advancements bonten had given him, the reach he had was horrifying.

(Name) never looked real, somehow he always looked slightly photoshopped when conducting business "I-I swear I have nothing" a traitor cried out as (name), Sanzu and Rindō stood around for "questioning" as (name) looked absolutely unsettling "you signed your life to Bonten yet you betray the thing that keeps you alive" (name) said simply as he pulled out a binder "you die regardless though I should tell you, did you know you had a daughter?"

"W-what?"

"Yes, a daughter... With that woman you loved? What was her name... Ah yes Yuu" (name) said and the man looked wide eyed "they are coming tomorrow to see you, so she could introduce you to your daughter and maybe start a new life..."

"No..."

"Yes and you threw all that away because like the grub worm you are, you branded yourself a traitor" (name) smiled softly, not uncomfortable but sadistic "it will be quite tragic... What they will see"

"Food?" (Name) looked curious at the food Ran was preparing as he returned home, it was Rans day off and he decided to surpise his boyfriend "it is, thought you might be hungry" (name) looked VERY interested in it and Ran let him taste and it was worth it as his reaction was pure bliss "go set the table its almost done"

(Name) set the table quietly as ran put the food into (bowls/serving plates) and set it down.

"whens your birthday?" Ran asked curiously as he looked at the daily horoscopes "I dont have one" (name) shrugged as if it were nothing and ran looked genuinely startled at this "how do you not have a birthday?!"

"I don't have any family to tell me, the people I grew up around didnt care about those things"

They spoke in snippets about his past, it was vague and confusing and left ran with more questions than answers.

"... why not make today your birthday?"

"How would we know its my birthday?"

"How would we know its not?"

[hairmetal666]

Bing Crosby's voice warbles from a portable stereo propped up near the sink, singing about a white Christmas; red-ribboned garland lines the windows and door frame; small wreathes bedeck the cabinet doors; and Steve Harrington stands at the kitchen island.

He turns when he hears the slip of Eddie's socks on the tile, grin already blossoming across his face, and they're hugging before he really processes it happening. Steve mumbles, "it's good to see you, Ed," in his ear.

The hug is too tight and too long for what they are to each other now.

They break apart, Steve immediately turning back to the baked sugar cookies spread out on the island.

"Wanna help?" He asks.

Eddie sticks his hands in his back pocket, walks to stand next to his ex, his best friend, his--everything in the world that matters. "What are we making, Stevie?"

"Frosting sugar cookies. Think you can handle it?" He wiggles a pipping bag in Eddie's face.

"No way," Eddie says.

"Yeah, c'mon, you're a good artist."

"With like, pencils and shit. Not icing."

"You'll do great."

"You sure about that? Remember when--"

Steve snorts. "Oh, you mean the last time you tried to bake, and I had to mop chocolate batter off my ceiling? And I found dried splatters of it for months? Yeah. I remember."

Eddie hides his laugh in a cough. "Sorry?"

He wanted to bake a cake for Steve's birthday, back when they were together, made a mess instead. Steve had just laughed and kissed him, started cleaning.

Their relationship started out hot and heavy in the months after Vecna. They got caught up in it, threw themselves headfirst into the kind of love that sucks you under, turns you inside out, leaves you with nothing. It ended, like it was always going to, when Eddie couldn't get out from under the shadow of his own self-loathing. Terrified he was fucking everything up, he packed his bags and left in the dead of night.

They're older now, though. More settled. The trauma softened by time.

"Coffee?" Steve asks.

"Please."

Steve gets it brewing, pours a couple mugs, adds the cream and sugar just like Eddie likes. Of course.

They ice cookies--and okay, Eddie's not so bad at it--and they chat and it's good. Nice. Two old friends catching up.

"Hey," Steve says.

Eddie looks over, would never not when it's Steve asking. The man in questions smiles at him, big and guileless, which is all the warning Eddie needs. He doesn't quite manage to duck in time, and Steve swipes frosting covered fingers across his face. He makes a pained noise, an injured little squeak, that has Steve in hysterics.

"Steve!" He shrieks.

The culprit is doubled-over, clinging to the countertop to stay on his feet, shaking with laughter.

"You--you," Steve half-sobs. "The look on your face!"

Eddie grabs a mostly fully piping bag. "You're gonna get it, Harrington."

"No--no," Steve darts sideways. "This sweater is dry clean only!"

"Should have thought of that." Eddie manages to smear frosting across Steve's wrist. "No one actually uses the dry cleaner, anyway."

They tussle around the island, giggling and shouting. He finally manages to catch Steve, drawing lines of icing over his face to the sounds of spasming giggles.

"Okay, okay," Steve says. His chest visibly heaves from exertion. "We should clean up."

Eddie shrugs. "You brought it on yourself."

"Yeah, yeah. Here." Steve hands him a wet towel and they spend the next few minutes smearing frosting off their faces.

He tosses his red and green smeared towel into the sink. "Happy with yourself?"

"Uh-huh, yeah--Oh, you've got a little--" Steve points towards Eddie's chin.

"Here?" Eddie wipes haphazardly at his face.

"No, it's--Can I?"

Eddie nods and then Steve is pressing his index finger to the corner of Eddie's bottom lip, gently swiping. Their eyes lock and there's nothing else in the room.

"Got it," Steve whispers. He doesn't pull his finger away.

"Thank you." Eddie's not sure anything but air comes out.

Steve's eyes dip down, fixing on Eddie's mouth and the spot his own fingers rest.

Eddie thinks he might die.

On the other side of the house, there's the sound of a door closing, the thud of approaching feet.

Steve pushes away, grabs a cookie and a piping bag.

Eddie has a few seconds to settle himself, figure out how to breathe. He's barely calm when Mark's deep voice rumbles through the kitchen, "Hey, babe. How's the baking?"

"Good," Steve says. "Work okay?"

He can't be rude, has toacknowledge that Mark is here, in the room, co-owner of the house.

"The usual." Steve and Mark smile at each other, soft and intimate.

When they kiss, Eddie drops his eyes.

"Eddie! Good to see you, my man!" Mark says, wrapping him in a loose hug.

Eddie pats his back, says, "Been awhile."

"Yeah, you should come around more often. Know Steve here would love to see you. Guess LA is keeping you busy."

"Guess so," Eddie agrees.

He's desperate to get out of here, dying for a break, to blot their easy intimacy out of his brain. "I--uh, think I need a cigarette break. I'll be back in a minute."

"Don't take too long," Steve says. He doesn't look away from Mark, so Eddie doesn't bother answering.

He steps out the back, cigarette and Bic already in his hands, lights it before the door is back in the frame.

--

Hours later, he slips out to the front porch, this time for a second to breathe. Even outside, he can hear Mike and Dustin yelling, the girls chiming in, Joyce and Hopper and Wayne laughing, "Rockin Around the Christmas Tree" blasting.

He walks to the side of the house, steps stuttering in the snow when he sees the glowing ember of a lit cigarette.

"Eddie?" Steve asks. "Need a smoke?"

"Nope, just wanted to clear my head." His heart thuds loud enough he's sure Steve can hear.

There's a beat, only a second or two, before the cigarette falls to the snow with a soft sizzle and Steve's hands are bunched in his shirt.

The kiss is hot, hard, desperate. His fingers dig into Steve's hair, pulling tight.

"Baby, baby," Steve murmurs, their mouths not even parted. "I missed you so much."

Eddie whimpers, clings tighter. "I know, sweetheart. I know, but we promised--"

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I just--"

"Stevie." His thumbs caress the planes of Steve's face. "I can't do this anymore. We said--"

"I know, I know. But I can't stop thinking about you. It's all the time. I miss you so bad that it hurts. Right here in my chest. And fuck--I lo--"

"You don't," Eddie says. Vision obscured with tears.

"I do," Steve's fingers grip around him tighter. "I always have. I never stopped. I thought you--I thought--"

"Steve?" Robin's voice calls into the night.

They let their hands drop away from each other, step apart so they're no longer entwined.

"Be right there, Rob," Steve says.

Eddie lights another cigarette. "You should go in," he says.

"Yeah." Steve nods, won't look in Eddie's direction. "Merry Christmas," he says, walks back toward the house.

He thunks his head against the red-brick of the house, staring up at the gleaming white lights lining the edge of the roof, finally letting the tears fall.

"Merry-fucking-Christmas," he echoes.

[ashamedart]

I'm trying out my first (kind of) g/t fic on here ahaha I'm so scared

Things not seen (title may change)

Chapter 1: The Demon

… the bell rings. Oh. I forgot I was in school… it’s the last period on the day before spring break, and it’s… terrifying. I’m graduating so soon... I snap back to attention and quickly start piling all my stuff in my backpack. A few mechanical pencils, lots of books, a sketchbook and a writing notebook… I don’t need half of the things I bring to school, but I still want to. And I feel like I should. I walk out the classroom door, avoiding eye contact with my teacher and classmates, and into the crowded hallway, packed with noise. I practically press myself against the walls to try to avoid physical contact. Thankfully, I make it outside without being trampled by the horde. It’s at one of those temperatures that makes it a bit too warm with my sweater on, and a bit too cold with it off. I feel a hand on my shoulder and jump, spinning around to be greeted by Fiona’s grinning face. She’s always been bolder than me in terms of the way she dresses, her outfit consisting of a pink sweater over a short black skirt, fishnet tights, and combat boots. There are little things in her hair, stickers on her shoes, and pins of games and shows all over her bag. I could never just have my interests on display like that…

“Oh. Um. Hi.” “Hi!!”

“Are we going to the tree today?” “I would love to, but… actually, I came to find you to tell you something… I’m gonna be gone for the whole break.”

My heart sinks, but I put on a smile.

“Really? Where to?”

“Ireland! My dad’s taking me to see my grandma and uncles.” Ireland!? She’s going to a different country!? But I was looking forward to spending the break with her! I had basically everything planned! “Oh, wow! Heh, lucky you… when do you leave?” “Uh… sometime soon?” “... like, today?” “Yeah.” “What?? That’s something you have to pay attention to!” “I dunno, my parents’ll let me know.” “You don’t know when you’re leaving! Don’t you need to pack or anything??” “Oh, I already did, like, a week ago.” “Thank goodness, why didn’t you say that??” “Why would I, you didn’t ask.”

“... I don’t know, but it would have been nice.” “You assume I wouldn’t-” There’s a muffled pinging sound. Fiona pulls her phone out of her pocket, sighing, and stops the sound. She opens her phone and I can see her looking at texts.

“What was that?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. My dad pinged my phone because I missed some texts from him. Asking where I am. Guess it’s time to go soon.” “Already?? I thought you meant, like tomorrow!” “Nah, I guess it’s now. Hey, don’t worry, you’ll be fine on your own.”

“... I wasn’t thinking that.” “I know you-” Her phone pings again, and she has to once again stop the sound.

“Fuck, okay, sorry Mallory. I’ll see you when we get back, I guess! I’ll text you nonstop!” She gives me a quick hug and sprints off. … I’ll be without my best and only friend for two weeks. I’m not a very sociable person, but one friend was all I thought I wanted and needed. Turns out, it just means I have nothing to do when she’s gone. … what do I do now? Just… go alone? … I guess. Better than being home all break. I slowly begin to make my way to the treeline behind the high school. Even though I’ve done it so many times before, it feels… wrong, going alone. I walk down the slightly beaten path to the treehouse. I put ribbons in the bushes and trees to mark the way to go, but I’ve done this so many times that I don’t even need them anymore. I recognise each tree, every patch of flowers, the creek flowing through the path…

And there it is.

A giant oak tree with a large treehouse resting in its branches. There’s a woven swing hanging from a limb, a hollow on one side with pillows and blankets piled in it, a ladder leading up to the 10 foot tall door, as well as the platforms around the tree. It’s a big treehouse, with a high ceiling, a balcony, closet, windows, and trapdoor to the roof. I didn’t build it, of course, I just found it and repaired it with Fiona and her mom. It really is beautiful, I could just stand here for a while. But I won’t, I didn’t come here to stand here and stare at the treehouse, I came here to go inside. I move to grab the rungs of the ladder, but freeze halfway there. It sounds like something’s up there. I feel my heart skip a beat. Slowly and quietly, I ascend the ladder and creep over to the door. I have to cover my mouth to keep myself from screaming, and duck out of the doorway. There is someone in there. Or, something… it isn’t human… whatever it is, it has a humanoid shape, but is way too big to be a human. … it’s flipping through my notebooks. My blood boils over with rage, despite the lingering fear. How DARE it!? Without thinking, I stomp into the treehouse and look around, picking up a fairly large stick and hurling it at the thing.

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!? GIVE ME THAT!!”

It pauses, and its gaze slowly shifts to me. I freeze, fear filling my mind as I realise what I did, but I try to hold my ground and seem somewhat intimidating.

“... th-that’s m-mine…”

Shit, I’m stuttering… it rises to its feet and approaches me. I instinctively back away until my back hits the wall…

“S-stay back!”

It continues in its approach, coming to a stop right in front of me, absolutely towering over me. I want to scream, run, shut my eyes, but I can’t move, other than trembling. It holds out its hand, the one with my sketchbook in it. … is it actually giving it back?? I glance between its face and the book in its hand, before quickly snatching it and stepping back. It also steps back. It’s huge, at least twenty feet tall, with tan skin, pink hair, and icy blue eyes with black sclera. It has a thick reptilian tail with a tuft of pink hair at the end, two small black horns, and I’ve caught glimpses of claws on its hands and sharp behind its lips. I have no idea what it could be…

“Is this your house?

… it talks. … I did not expect it to talk. Its voice is fairly deep with no real distinctive gender, but does possibly sound more feminine. I take a deep breath and try to talk.

“Y-y-yes…”

Still stuttering….

“Oh. … I’m sorry I was in here, then. I just smelled something good…”

Smelled something..? I glance over at the shoe box of snacks in the closet. Maybe it’ll leave if I give it something. Or at least be less likely to kill me...

“... my, uh… m-my snacks? Y-you can h-have some.. i-in the cl-closet…”

It walks over to the closet and takes the box down. It glances back at me before hesitantly opening it and looking through it. I cautiously take a step closer to the giant…

… it’s wearing clothes. I hadn’t registered that before, likely due to shock, anger, and/or fear.. but it is. A black cloak, jeans, boots, and… glasses. Where did it get glasses? Wait, where did it get any clothes that fit it? Why am I wondering this about it? … what do I think I should be wondering about it? It pulls out a plastic baggie of homemade chocolate chip cookies. I forgot I had those. I made them a few days ago. They’re a little lopsided, but still pretty good.

“What are these?”

… really? It doesn’t know what cookies are?? … it’s baffling, but it does make some sense. I don’t know where it would have access to cookies, being a giant monster…

“... th-those? Cookies? Th-they’re, uh, sweet f-food?”

It stares at me for a moment before looking back down at the bag and taking one of the cookies out of the bag and examining it. It hesitantly raises the treat to its mouth and takes a bite. Its eyes widen and I can see its face light up…

“WHERE DO YOU GET THESE!?”

Ow- oh wow it’s loud..

“I-I, uh… I made them…”

“You can MAKE these!?”

“Yeah? Just, uh, flour, sugar, sometimes chocolate, a few other things, and heat it up.”

“What’s chocolate?”

It quickly finishes the rest of the cookie. … it doesn’t know chocolate either, huh… how am I supposed to explain chocolate to someone that’s never had it? It’s such a unique flavour…

“Chocolate is, uh… how do I… th-there’s a box of chocolate at the bottom of the box somewhere… the big plastic-wrapped thing. .. brown.”

It digs through the box for the bar of chocolate, slowly removing it from the container. It glances back at me again. It struggles a bit, figuring out how to go about opening the wrapper with its large hands, but does get it pretty fast, tearing off the wrapper and biting a small piece off the corner. You could practically see the stars in its eyes, its tail thumping against the floor. I instinctively recoil at the sound, but… it suddenly seems much less intimidating…

“I think I LOVE chocolate!!”

“Yeah, it’s, uh… pretty good… you’ve really never had any chocolate before..?”

“No. I can’t really just walk into wherever you get it.”

… that’s… fair. A giant… demon thing (?) anywhere too close to the town would be a disaster… I watch it finish off the rest of the chocolate bar in one bite.

“... what are you..?”

“Wh- me? … uh… honestly, the best answer I can give you is ‘a monster…’”

“So… you don’t… know?”

“I’ve never seen another thing like me, and humans definitely don’t know what I am, so nobody’s ever told me…”

That’s… kind of sad… I wonder where it came from, what its life is like… I let out an involuntary yawn. Everything that’s happened today has been pretty exhausting… it’s probably starting to get late, too… I pull out my phone to check the time. The numbers across the lock screen reading 6:26. … it’s 6:26! I was supposed to be home almost 30 minutes ago!! No, I almost never come home more than a minute late!

“... is something wrong?"

“I-I was supposed to be home a while ago…”

“... isn’t this your house?”

“Oh, uh- no, I don’t live here. I guess it is my house, but I don’t live here, I only come here a lot. I live somewhere else. And my mom’s gonna be pissed that I wasn’t there half an hour ago…”

… it stares at me for a moment, then gets up and starts to descend the ladder. I don’t know if I want it to leave or not…

“A-are you leaving?”

It holds its hand up to me from the ground and smiles. … should I…

“Do you want me to take it..?”

Its smile grows wider. I guess I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ I walk out of the doorway and glance cautiously between its face and hand. I don't really trust it, but... I cautiously place my hand in its much larger one. … it suddenly grips my arm and lifts me off my feet, lowering me down onto its shoulder. I let out a startled squeak and wrap my arms around its neck as my feet touch the fabric of its cloak, terrified once again.

“So, which way’s your house?”

“Uh… th-that way…?”

I say shakily and point in the general direction of my house. I’ve been here so many times, I know the way back. … is it going to take me there..?

“Alright, hold on!”

"wh-"

Before I can fully register its words, it sprints off in the direction I pointed it in. I shut my eyes and press myself against its head, my cheeks hot and heart beating fast, afraid to open my eyes and see myself falling… It’s terrifying, but… the cool evening air, warmth of the creature under and next to me, wind against my face and hair… it’s exhilarating… and oddly comforting… I slowly open my eyes, squinting them in an attempt to block out the wind rushing at them. It’s going so fast, things are rushing past me in a blur. I have so many questions and theories about it… I see my house appearing through the treeline.

“Ah- th-there! Stop here!”

It comes screeching to a halt, the momentum causing it to fall forward onto its face, and myself to fall off its shoulder and land in the dirt. I push myself upright  and brush myself off, looking over at the creature. It groans and sits up, cleaning its glasses off on its sweater. I softly laugh at the sight, and it smiles awkwardly at me.

“I probably shouldn’t go any further…”

“Yeah, people would really freak out, wouldn’t they? … w-well, uh… goodbye… I guess…” I don’t know what else to say. I turn and begin walking to my house when it puts its glasses back on and speaks for the last time.

“Emory.”

I turn back towards it.

“... what?”

“Ah- my name. It’s Emory.”

Emory. It’s a strangely human name for them, but it’s nice. It fits.

“Emory… it’s nice to meet you. I’m Mallory.”

They smile and wave at me, before slowly disappearing into the darkness of the surrounding woods… 

*******************************************************************

... wow. It’s hard to believe any of that just happened… I’m so tired… I turn back towards my house and prepare myself for what’s going to happen when I cross the threshold of the front door. And I approach. I stand before the entrance to my house, heart pounding. I reach into my pocket to pull out my phone and check the time again, as if I thought it might have somehow gone back. 6:31. … I steel myself and place my hand on the knob to slowly turn it, just opening the door a crack, attempting to sneak in as quietly as I can. The sound of the door creaking and clicking shut echoes through the house, seeming loud as thunder. I can already hear the sound of her green slippers stomping against the floor, approaching  from the living room, and wince. When I turn, I can practically see the smoke pouring out of her ears like a tea kettle. I flash a sheepish smile and force a small wave.

“H-heeyy, mom…”

“Excuse me?? Take this seriously, I was worried! WHERE have you BEEN!? You never come home this late without letting me know first!”

“I know. I’m sorry, I just lost track of time…”

“NO. You don’t ‘lose track of time,’ you’re always here early! So what happened? Why didn’t you tell me?? Was it that friend of yours? Were you at a party?? Did you do drugs!? Is there a boy!?” “What!? Mom, no, I hate parties. And Fiona isn't bad... I’m telling the truth, I was just reading and lost track of time…” I really hope I don't look like I'm lying. Besides, I don’t even like guys. Not that I would ever say that in front of her. I have do idea how she would react. She narrows her eyes at me, having to look up a bit. “Well. This is your first strike. I’m trusting that you’re telling the truth because I believe you’re a good kid who wouldn’t do that. But, you still got home very late, so no dinner, and get to your room.” “Yes, ma’am…”

I quietly begin to ascend the stairs to my room. I hated that. I hate that she treats me like a fucking child who can’t take care of herself. I know she loves me, and she’s just protective, but it can be humiliating… I slam the door shut behind me and wince, hoping she didn’t hear that. … thankfully, I don’t hear anything but my dad’s snoring coming from the other room. He tends to work a lot and sleep in. I feel kind of bad for him. … I might go to sleep early, too… everything that happened today has been exhausting… I flip the lights off and turn on the white noise machine. With all the noise from the other room, I need it to sleep. I climb up onto my bed, not bothering to change into pyjamas, just throwing off my shirt and skirt. I lie down and cover myself with the blankets, and as I stare up at the glowing stars stuck to my ceiling, my brain runs through today’s events. Was that even real..? My mind feels so fuzzy now as my eyelids fall over my eyes.

Ugh... I’m so… tired…

So I'm a very beginner writer, I'm not great at coming up with names, and I feel like this story might be too rushed. I am okay with and encourage constructive criticism. I am in love with these characters and they will appear again on here :D

[cellythefloshie]

;; Champagne Problems cellythefloshie's snapshot series

Summary: Charlie is hit by the repercussions of her actions. Adam had a solution. Snapshot for: Just Me & You Kinks & Tropes: n/a Word Count: 1.3k+

Heels in hand, Charlie could feel the morning dew as it dripped off the edge of each blade of grass she stepped into. They sprouted between her toes, bringing the slightest of chills during the hot summer night. No, it was morning now. Early morning. The music had long since faded, and guests had left in cars and convoys, while others returned to the cabins, intoxicated zombies craving their bed and dreading the hangover that would come in the morning. Charlie’s head had yet to hit the pillow, but it felt like she was dreaming all the same. 

Only in her dreams the company she kept would be Adam. Yet, there he was walking by her side, Banks running off ahead of them through the lawn after a late night of being cooped up in the cabin. He had more energy that she could fathom having, with sleep heavy on her tired eyes while her heart raced and her mind raged with thought. 

So much had changed since she had arrived at the cabin. Charlie had arrived with Wesley, living the falsehood of being happy with her life in so many ways. She told herself she was in love. That she loved the life that she had with Wesley in their condo in Calgary. She told herself that her job as a realtor was the one she had been working towards her entire life when, in reality, she was just doing whatever Wesley told her to do. She had done that every moment since she had met him, but she was rid of him now. For good. 

That thought alone excited her and left her terrified all at once. 

It left her hand lurching out for Adam’s, and she gripped it tight. The mere feeling of him was enough to rid her of all the worries that thinking of Wesley brought, but flooded her with a whole new concern. 

What if Adam ghosted her again?

The thought alone left her stomach lurching - or maybe that was multiple glasses of wine she had consumed throughout the night, and continued to drink as Adam handed her a half empty bottle or white wine that they had been nursing since they had stolen it from the drink tent. 

Charlie took a long swing of the wine, her head tipping back until her mouth was so full the threat of spitting it out burned at the back of her throat. But maybe if she drank enough, she could calm the anxiety as she tried to convince herself that things would be different this time. That while hockey still consumed his life, and probably always would, he was grown up now. 

They both were. 

Yet, he was the one who had his life together, while hers seemed to be falling apart. 

She was single - or maybe she wasn’t?

She didn’t have a home to go back to. 

The only thing Charlie knew was only if what he had said was true, she had Adam - and he wasn’t going to let her forget that. 

Adam tugged his arm from her tight hold slowly, and Charlie fell away from him like a ribbon. Her body was loose, her arm falling back to her side and sending ripples through the satin of her dress. She could feel his eyes move over her body, admiring how the dress moved over her hips - but it wasn’t enough to distract him as they came to a standstill in the center of the lawn, standing between the old summer home and the flower bed that was still in need of repair since Banks' hand greeted her mere nights ago. 

“You’re quiet,” Adam hummed slowly, his hand reaching out to take the bottle back from her. “What are you thinking about?”

“Everything,” she sighed. 

“Hey.” Adam’s neck craned to look down at her as she stepped forward to fill the space between him. He made her feel small - she was small. “You can talk to me. You know that, right? I know when I first got to Winnipeg, I was stupid. I fucked this up, but I think we’re working on moving past that now?”

Charlie nodded slowly, and a single hand raised up to push back her dark hair as it fell into her face. 

“Yeah,” she breathed out, the single syllable unsteady, “I just,” her voice broke, “when this weekend is over, and you’re back in Winnipeg, what do I have left?” Charlie looked up at Adam, and his expression was blank - and she was sure his mind was too, as he searched for just the right thing to say. He was drunk, they both were, and he had used up all his sweet words when he had proclaimed his love for her in the middle of the dance floor. Or, it just could have easily been the fact that he knew nothing about her life. 

The two of them still had so much more catching up to do. 

“A job I hate,” Charlie started to list, “and no place to call home. I don’t even have a car to take me back to the city-” 

A sob caught in her throat, hot tears building up in her eyes like acid. If it had been anyone else with her, Charlie would have blamed it on the blinding light of the sun as it came up over the trees. But with Adam, she let them fall. He had seen her cry many times before, and if he was going to be in her life again, it wouldn’t be the last. 

The tears branched down her cheeks in hot streams that spilled over the swell of her lips. She licked them away, tasting their salt as her face contorted with frustration. Charlie tried to turn away, to hide the ugliness of her tears, but Adam’s arms were quick to take her. They coiled around her middle tight, his arms reaching up so that his hands gripped at her shoulders. Her brows furrowed for a moment as she wondered where the bottle of wine went, but then she felt it spill over the ground, leaving her feet sticky with its sweet liquor. 

“Shit,” she felt the warmth of his words against her neck as she clung to him, his strength hoisting her out of the wine puddle effortlessly and Adam just held her to him and he let her cry. 

Adam didn’t let her go until her tears had dried and her sobs had been silenced. Not once did Adam complain, or hush her, like Wesley would have. That fact left a weakness in her chest, one that had her clinging to him. His back, his arms, even as he began to pull away, Charlie grasped at his biceps, desperate to keep him close. 

Adam didn't go far. A single hand raised up and found her cheek. The warmth of his touch embraced her as he wiped away her tears. Charlie leaned into his gentle touch. It was there she found her calm, but his next words sent her heart racing;

“Quit your job,” Adam's words were a mere whisper, “and come to Winnipeg with me.” 

Jaw slacking, Charlie leaning back to look up at Adam and his soft gaze. Her lips wavered, struggling to find the right words to say, even if all she wanted to do was scream yes. But was that moving so fast? Maybe they could revisit the offer again in the morning when they hadn't drunk numerous bottles of wine. Or she could dive into all that was Ad-

Her eyes went wide as her gaze fell to the sight just beyond Adam. In the flower bed where she had hidden from him nights ago was Banks, his fur already caked with mud. A hand raising to her forehead, the dog's name leaving her lips in a sigh before they both moved to chase Banks through the muddy flower bed. 

Taglist: @mp0625 @starshine-hockey-girl - and not on my taglist but tagging miss @wyattjohnston who enabled me to create Charlie and her world with Adam for a fic exchange <3

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - The Green Ribbon Is Staples

@astatia-ghast @q-gorgeous @mr-lancers-english-class @tourettesdog

Danny gets a lot of injuries but every so often he gets one he’s never gotten before, normally that’s just a pain since none of the trio usually know what exactly to do about it but they eventually manage; unfortunately this time it’s a little too revealing.

Chap. 1:

Decapitation Station

Okay. So. Danny’s got a problem. Or twenty. Twenty problems sounds more accurate. Why? Well um, lets rewind a little. 

See he was heading home, from detention due to missing homework, like usual, when his ghost sense did what his ghost sense does. So, you know, he had a fight to fight, ghostly ass to kick. It was good ol’ Boxy because of course it was, he should have figured honestly. But the surprising part? The real cut throat turn of events? Yeah apparently Boxy got his hands on multiple boxes -read: more than two- of barbed wire, ecto-barbed wire because apparently Jeb was trying to protect his chickens -he has chicken in his houses tiny back yard for some fucking inane reason, like seriously why? Ugh- from a ghost kitsune. 

So Boxy threw the boxes at Danny like he normally does. 

Danny let the boxes phase through him like he normally does, because come on? regular boxes are a shit weapon. 

But surprise! That turned out to be the dumbest decision he’s made in a long fucking time. Why? Well because the ecto-barbed wire inside the boxes, that he obviously could not see because the boxes were fucking closed, did not go through him like he expect. 

They did go through him though. Just... not the way he wanted them to. 

Meaning they went through him by cutting through him very literally. He’d realised his fuck up quick enough to minimise the damage but that was because the first box was aimed at his goddamn head. The Box Ghost got to be cut throat for the first time in his entire existence, at the cost of Danny’s head getting fucking whole ass flung into a grocery store wall. 

At least this is how Danny got to find out he could still move his body without its head. It’s also how he found out that decapitation is terrifying to ol’ Boxy. 

“I! AM SORRY! THAT IS NOT OKAY! I mean you are less circular now!”.

Danny takes the time to have his headless body kick The Box Ghost in the shin as his hearing cuts out before using his thermos, it’s hard as fuck to aim without being able to tell what he’s looking at. Since, apparently, he could use his body without a head but couldn’t use his head without it being still connected to his core, fucking great luck there. 

It’s still pathetically easy to catch Boxy, even effectively blind. Using the feel of ecto-energy and ghostly pressure, no matter how weak, to figure out his own location and Boxy’s, aim and fire and he gets the ghost on his third try. No quippy wit of course, since he was down a fucking head holy shit. 

At least he manages to find his head, it, unfortunately, does not auto reattach. 

... And he can’t see to stitch it on himself. Meaning he needs Sam or Tuck, preferably Sam. But she’s not a ghost, meaning he can’t just locate her ecto-signature. He also can’t just float around Amity cradling his head and hoping she fucking sees him. He also can’t call, because no mouth obviously. So that’s either three or four of his twenty some issues. The fifth is just the pure fact that Boxy of all ghosts is the one to put him in this situation in the first place, talk about embarrassing. Ugh. 

Danny settles for calling Tuck, who can absolutely trance the call with ease, and just scrapping the phone speaker on the floor and making thumping noises with his feet. He’d look up morse code if he could see. Zone if he didn’t have Tuck on speed dial he’d be fucked... on second thought he might not have even managed to call Tuck. 

Should he try again? 

Well it can’t make things worse. 

He calls about twenty times and maybe some go through maybe some don’t. He can’t hear if there’s a voicemail. Fuck how is he even gonna know if Tuck does show up? If he had at least one of his heads senses he’d be cool, Tuck always smelled like meat and metal, his voice was an obvious easy identifier or whatever, he did in fact know what the guy’s skin tasted like, and sight was easy. 

But touch was all he’s got right now and unless he’s touching a ghost, aka something with an ecto-field, he can barely tell the difference between people. Maybe whoever will clue in and write their name on his arm or something? He can only hope to be that lucky. 

…

He is not that lucky. 

In multiple ways.

Who ever he’s called is definitely not lean or skinny. Meaning they’re not any of the people he was cool with calling. It’s not Sam’s lean muscled arms with sharp pointed nails. It’s not Tuck’s skinny arms and calloused fingers. It’s not Jazz’s skinny arms and would have been shaking hands. Zone it’s not even Val’s lean toned arms and firm grip. 

Whoever it is has thick muscled arms and rough large hands. If the hands where bigger he’d think he really fucked up and called his dad, but they’re not. Plus, his dads hands would probably not be shaking. His dad wouldn’t be freaked out by an injured ghost. His dad would not be handling an injured ghost with gentle care. His dad would not be seemingly attempting to help. His dad would either ‘study’ him or hurt him or capture him. 

This person is doing none of those three things. This persons hands are shaking, they are freaked out, and they are helping. Meaning he should be okay enough at least. Problem is he doesn’t know if this person can do stitches well enough to align and reconnect stuff, or if this person is actually anyone he called and not some random person who just happened to be around. 

Danny’s got his head cradled in one arm and pressed against his stomach, the person is holding onto that arm, so Danny uses his free hand to point at his head then at his neck, making vague stitching motions and hoping the message is getting across. 

He can feel heavy breathes brush against his jumpsuit so he’s guessing that who ever took some restorative breaths, good? Hopefully otherwise he might be very fucked until someone else shows up. Either way Danny moves his head so that he can kinda feel the mangled detached end of it brushing against the mangled detached end of his neck, he thinks he got his head on the right angle but whoever hopefully can line up his spine for him. 

Wait shit, if this isn’t Sam, Tuck, or Jazz, which it obviously isn’t, then they won’t know he has a fucking spine since ghosts don’t normally have that shit. 

Quickly lifting his head up making the person definitely jerk, to flip it enough for whoever to see the spine end. Gesturing vaguely where he thinks the spine end is, then leaning his body/neck forward and physically grabbing his spine and tapping on it. Hopefully they get it, he gives whoever a thumbs up for moral support before going back to aligning his neck ends and holding his head steady with both hands. 

The person goes around his back, their knees pressing up against his lower back and ass, whoever was tall damn. Not his dad tall but definitely at least six foot. Even their knees are shaking though so that’s not great; hopefully they have a decent therapist. Great now he sounds like Jazz, ugh. 

The person does tentatively touch his spine bit and Danny’s pretty sure he can feel his heads bit of spine pressing into it. He keeps holding his head when the other person feels to get up.

... 

They didn’t just leave did they? The fuck??? Even if he is a ghost that’s still pretty fucked up to just leave him, especially when whoever poked at him and maybe tried to see if they could help. 

... Did they maybe go to grab some shit perhaps? Right yeah most people didn’t just walk around everywhere with medi kits and shit.

...

It is taking whoever a while if that’s what they’re- oh wait nevermind, based on the vibrations on the ground he’s going to guess the person is back and it seems like they’re running. Cool. Okay. Definitely had gone to get stuff. 

The person damn near knees him in the back when they get back down on the floor with him. Jerk. Danny would scoff or scowl if his head was freaking attached. 

They’re grabbing at his spine again so it’s definitely one hundred percent the same person. Good. Cool. He wasn’t totally abandoned headless by a random grocery store. 

Then he feels some seriously jarring vibrations travel down from the bit of spine attached to his skull, officially very confused. What the actually crap did whoever run off to get??? Then he feels cold metal on his bodies exposed section of spine, it feels kind of like a flat bar? Oh! OH! Okay he is absolutely getting a metal bracket drilled into his spine to hold it together, that was actually pretty fucked up. Effective hopefully but wow, oof. This was gonna suck so much later.

And now he can’t tell if the person is shaking because of being freaked out or because of the goddamn drill they’re taking to his spine. 

He thinks whoever drills on three brackets or metal rods, before the drilling fully and finally stops. He’s starting to get some feeling back in the rest of his spine and the bottom bit of his skull but his actual skin and hair and senses are still a lost cause. Whoever taps he’s shoulder very cautiously and draws a question mark over his jumpsuit, so Danny moves to hold his head up by the hair and takes the other hand off of his head to try and pinch the jagged detached edges of neck skin together, then making the stitching gestures again. He needs his skin at least somewhat securely connected for things to heal at a remotely functional degree, annoying but whatever. 

The person writes ‘ok’ on his skin, at least the person was calm enough to try communicating with him now. Neat but Danny’s not going to push shit, instead going back to using both hands to hold his head steady. Unfortunately he had expected this person to, you know, use a sewing needle or something and some fucking thread to stitch his skin up. What he hadn’t expected was the sudden feeling of being shot with two extremely shallow and thin bullets straight in the neck. Ancients fuck what the hell?!? He absolutely jerks from that. 

Okay so, this fucker is using a goddamn staple gun he thinks? Did whoever run off to a fucking hardware store? The next staple is a lot shakier and Danny makes a point not to jump, which gets him rewarded with the next staple being less shaky. Danny’s just going along with this because it should? maybe? actually work? Hard to say since he’s never reached for goddamn staples when he’s needed a bit of patching up. This person was probably hoping that securing his spine would be good enough. Well tough shit, his luck ain’t that fuckin’ good. 

...

.......

It takes a goddamn while, and he thinks the person is taking fortifying breathers every so often. Which is fair. Stapling a persons neck back on had to be super upsetting and freaky. But! He can actually hear -yes, hear!- the staple gun noises now. It’s alarming a little, way too much like the sound of some of his folks guns but he can take it. But eventually whoever does stop. 

“Holy shit this is, so fucked”. 

Wait... holy shit, Dash???? Why him of all people???? The fuck? Well... okay guess Danny can’t be complaining too much. The guy had a ton of hero worship going on, so he wasn’t going to dick his goddamn idol over. 

Danny tentatively lets go of his head and, when it doesn’t flop over or anything, he gives Dash a double thumbs up. 

“Oh, oh thank zone his heads not loling over. Holy shit”. 

Danny taps on his ears and gives another thumbs up. 

“Are... are you trying to say you can hear again? Fuck this is so screwed up”; it kinda sounded like he ran his hands through his hair roughly. 

Danny gives another, but far more eager, thumbs up. 

“That’s? That’s good right?”.

Another thumbs up from Danny.

“Okay good. Good. This is so not how I ever wanted to run into my hero. In to you. What the zone even happened?”.

Danny doesn’t know how Dash expects him to answer him. So he makes an ‘x’ with his fingers over his mouth or where it feels like his mouth is anyways. 

“Still can’t speak huh?”, he actually snorts even if it sounds shaky as Hell, “that must suck for you”.

Oh hundred percent yes. Danny’s a talkative bastard. Danny flips him off. Apparently that’s really funny because Dash just starts wheeze laughing, it sounds like he flopped down on the ground which is honestly probably really gross, fuck knows what’s on it. 

“Zone I just stapled Phantom’s neck together and he flipped me off, what the fuck is today oh ugh”.

Hey if anyone’s having a shit day here it’s him. Sure having to fix him would be pretty fucked but at last Dash wasn’t the one dealing with being fucking decapitated and oh hey his visions coming back some. Blurry as hell but he can, in fact, see. He glances around, there’s a lot of glowing green stuff, probably his ecto, he should probably clean that up; also, he now knows why he usually fixes himself up with thread and not staples, shit is tense and makes his skin pull. 

Eyeing Dash, who’s staring at him Danny thinks, Dash jerking and sitting up, “hey the blank stares gone, you got vision back?”.

Danny wiggles his hand back and forth in the air and makes a weird squeaking sound, shrugging. Dash shakes his head disbelievingly, “I can’t believe you can survive losing your freaking head. Man that’s cool. Super freaky and I’m going to have so many nightmares now”. 

“Air pee”. 

Dash looks at him deeply concerned, opening and closing his mouth a few times before shaking his head and getting up. “You good? I can leave? Wait shit, sign my arm!”. 

Danny rolls his eyes but does as he’s asked because he is not nearly enough of an asshole to refuse after the guy stapled and drilled his freaking head back on. Danny also gives him a pretty solid back pat, “you ‘ight”. 

“Thanks but no? I’m raiding my dads liquor cabinet immediately”.

Danny can’t even give him shit for that, even if even he knows that ain’t the best way to deal with fucked up shit. Shrugging and stretching out, a lot of things cracking and popping, nice he’s seeing actual proper details now and his spine feels more proper spine like. Shit was gonna take so long to heal though. “Jus’ don’ mae rum ceral an’ don’ wine up inna ‘rigerater”. 

Dash sounds horrifically disgusted, “ew and... I won’t?”, the jock somewhat cautiously walks away. Fair enough, Danny just put him through some whack ass shit and then basically admitted to having had rum cereal and crawling into a refrigerator.... 

Him and his stupid fucking mouth. 

...

Okay so what now, if he changes back right now he’s going to start bleeding red everywhere. Fuck right, he’s gotta clean up his ectoplasm. At least that’s a simple thing, floating back down towards the ground and setting it all on fire. Watching the blue flames for a bit and realising that he absolutely can not hide Dash’s patch job for shit.

Well.

Fuck him entirely.

And by ‘him’ he means himself, not Dash. Dash did the best he could and Danny could not expect anyone to do a stellar job of reattaching people’s heads. In fact, someone being remotely skilled at that should be deeply concerning. Even a ghost having that skill would be concerning.

Alright so first things first, find something reflective and check Dash’s work out. Hmmmm. Okay so a chunk of shiny metal will have to do. Him lifting the piece up and around his neck to check it out, flames still burning away, as Sam arrives.

“Danny why did I get a soundless thumping call and why is this entire area on fire?”.

So Dash did a pretty okay-ish job, like yes all the staples are almost all uneven and less than straight, some aren’t in properly and one looks like it got bent to fuck. But his skin is knitting itself back together.

Danny turning around to wave at Sam gets him an instant gasp of horror. “Oh fucking zone, what happened!”.

Danny holds up a finger, “so I can survive decapitation and Dash know’s how to use power tools”, and floats himself around her enough for her to look at his neck, even she’s being leery about touching it or moving his head around. At least his vocal cords have put themselves back together, even if it sounds like he’s eaten an entire box of nails.

“Damn your voice sounds like shit”, she winces, poking one of the staples which Danny absolutely twitches in a bit of discomfort from. Okay so this shit was gonna hurt like a bitch when he changes back, ugh. Her frowning and digging in her pocket, “okay sit down, I’m at least attempting to straighten this shit out. I’m not taking out the staples, it’s healed some so it’ll do less damage to just let your body dissolve the metal”.

“Yeah he also drilled fucking hardware brackets into my spine”.

“Why would let him use that!”.

“I couldn’t see or hear or speak! Sam! I couldn’t tell who it even was that was trying to give me a patch up!”.

Sam rubs her temples sighing, pointing at the ground which fine Danny floats back down towards. At least the flames are dying out, yay for not leaving a crime scene level of ectoplasmic mess that could be traced back to him! Her getting to work immediately, “geez he pulled your skin too tight in some spots and not tight enough in others. Some spots aren’t even lined up well!”.

“Sam give the guy a break, he was terrified! And remotely normal people do not know how to put skin back together unless they’re literally doctors”.

“Yeah well this is going to heal really nasty, it’s already healed nasty”, she points at his face with a slightly ectoplasm stained finger, “and you aren’t missing any jumpsuit meaning unless you feel like adding a choker to your costume you can’t cover this up”.

He was unfortunately aware of that. As Phantom it wasn’t… too big of a deal. It would just raise questions about ghosts being able to get scars and how he got it and if he had more. Zone his folks might even rework some of their research over this. But… it would make people worry and he didn’t want that. “Considering the choker wouldn’t even be part of my actual form, I’d just wind up wrecking it. But-”.

She huffs, unclipping her own choker and holding it in front of his face, “you better have been about to say ‘but I should at least cover it up while it’s healing’ Danny. I have a million of these things, go ahead and destroy a few”; she drops it on his lap and continues moving his floating ass around to stitch between the staples.

Danny sighs to himself, careful not to swallow or move his Adam’s apple too much, “fine, but I’m just going to wear turtlenecks as Fenton, a chokers a little too attention drawing when I don’t normally wear that shit”.

She just scoffs as she continues her work.

Would a turtle neck hide this shit? Not if anyone remotely looked at him with any degree of attention even slightly. Like a child wouldn’t notice purely by being a lot smaller than him but that’s it. Unfortunately a choker or handkerchief will just make people more likely to look at his neck, and bandages would be even worse. Aka he doesn’t really have any options here.

Sam nodding and leaning back, “okay, you’re good. This is a seriously messed up injury though, you caught the ghost who did this? It was a ghost right?”.

Danny blushes immediately, “it was a ghost yeah, and ugh, I’m never living this down”, sighing into a hand and trying to ignore the way the staples pull, “it was fucking Boxy”. She laughs scandalised at him. Danny groaning more, “yeah yeah laugh it up. He actually scared himself”. She laughs even more and fine he joins in a little too. Fuck today so much.

…

After a bit she pokes his floating ass, “you should change back, so you get over the pain before we get you home and in bed. Your parents are still doing late night hunts right?”.

Danny sighs, putting his feet on the ground and nodding, “unfortunately, yeah”, moving to rub his neck before remembering that would be a fucking dumb idea and scratching his hair instead, his head felt unpleasantly fresh, “sure it means I don’t have to deal with their questioning but ugh”. They would somehow manage to get themselves involved in one of his late night ghost fights and shoot at him, it was annoying and every time it happened whatever ghost he was fighting legit debated throwing hands with his parents for real. Some purely because the Fenton’s shot first, others because they were interrupting their chosen ‘Phantom fist-a-cuffs’ time, others because they knew Phantom wouldn’t do it himself.

Anyway.

Human time.

Ha. This was gonna suck. Sure not as much as that time Tuck had to haphazardly shove his organs back inside him and Danny had to change back before said organs could reorganise themselves, but still. He cringes his whole face up in anticipation as he lets the change flow over him. “ANCIENTS FUCK!”, bending over, one hand on a now shaking knee, and the other tenderly over the front of his neck.

Ow.

Holy shit.

Fucking Hell he is never getting decapitated again. Oh Ancients.

He can taste metal inside his throat and he can’t tell if that’s blood or actual literal metal. The spine bolts are awful actually, he should not have let Dash do that. Oh he is regretting everything so much. “FUCK! OW! WHY DID I LET HIM DO THAT!”.

Sam pats his back as he drops his hand from his neck, touching would only make it worse, both hands on his knees and wheezing now. His neck was on fire and extremely cold all at once and it was fucking stupid and he hated it. He can feel his ecto attacking the metal, it burned more than he’d like. Swallowing, “oh that was such a bad idea”, he is not eating anything for a while. Pushing himself to stand up and blinking tears out of his eyes, “I, ow, am phasing all my food directly into my stomach for a while. Oh zone, this sucks”.

San pats his back again, “figured. Definitely no swallowing utensils for you for a bit”.

“Sam, if a fork prong got caught on or nicked the stupid bolts, which some are definitely partly inside my throat and bolted back to my spine, I will scream immediately”. Zone he would have screamed from changing back if he hadn’t been prepared for it to hurt like a son of a bitch.

She nods, “and I wouldn’t blame you”, scowling, “I still can’t believe you let Dash drill fucking Home Depot bolts into your neck. You know how dirty those things probably were? Ugh. Now stand still, you’re leaking”.

Danny has to clench his fists something fierce, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands, to keep from flinching as she wipes a cloth around his neck. Rolling his eyes at her whipping the side of his mouth too with a stupid smirk. “How bad does it look?”; he does not feel like going through the effort and pain of trying to use that bit of metal to look it over again.

“Bad. Danny. Gnarly and jagged. The staples stick out really harshly”, frowning and crossing her eyes as they cautiously and carefully make their way out from behind/around the grocery store which was thankfully closed. “When I stitch you up I always try to make it blend smoothly with your skin as much as possible, Dash was definitely not thinking about that, which fine I can’t blame him for, but still”, grimacing, “you better be really careful about what turtlenecks you wear, otherwise the staples are going to catch on the fabric”.

Danny full body winces, oh zone that would suck. He might maybe be able to resist screaming at that but he’ll definitely at least suck in a really ragged breath and curl in on himself. He was used to pain but still; he doesn’t even want to move his head or neck around. And of course his voice still sounded like hot garbage but considering the bolt attaching the inside of his throat to his spine that made sense. He really wishes Dash had positioned that one bracket and set of bolts differently. He can absolutely feel the metal bar being squished between his throat and spine. Ugh.

Shaking his head as they finally make their way back to FentonWorks. Sam giving him another pat, “you good to see yourself to bed or am I helping the injured baby”. 

Danny snorts, “oh shove it”, chuckling, “I can handle my self but I am absolutely taking the fuzzy blanket off of my bed because I do not want to get woken up by my bed ripping out a staple”. 

“Smart choice”.

She heads off with a simple wave and chuckle at Danny sticking out his tongue, at least he had motor control of said tongue again. Okay, now get lunch and go to bed before his parents possibly show up. 

He grabs out the left over chilli, that is thankfully not sentient or moldy, and phases it into his stomach. Was it going to take a bit to digest? Yes, obviously. But he was absolutely not chewing this shit and swallowing it. He’s had enough unintentional pain for one day that he absolutely does not feel up to adding in any intentional pain. 

The fluffy blanket that was super comfortable especially when his muscles were all achey, gets torn off and left on the floor in a heap. His floor isn’t exactly ‘clean’ but that doesn’t really matter to his sorry ass; he is going the fuck to sleep. 

“Nocturne bless this fucking bed”. 

Chap. 2:

The Un-hide-able Kind Of Damage

Did Danny sleep the whole night away? Obviously not. That never fucking happens. But no one serious showed up and every single one that showed up took one look at his neck and noped out. Apparently there was a bit of a code to not mess with Phantom if he was rocking some injury that was really fucked up. It’s didn’t help that it looked gnarly regardless of form... the choker barely helped and he forgot it almost every time. 

But he managed to make it to morning without further neck or throat damage. He also did not see any online photos or videos of the damage, so far so good. 

He absolutely meticulously inspects his turtleneck options for loose thread or snaggy material. He’s left with a total of three wearable sweaters, not great but not, you know, bad either. The one he goes with is a dark red, in case he bleeds a little, and has a burning Christmas’s tree on it, because anytime is the right time to say fuck you to Christmas. Dumbass holiday, that one. He phases the thing on because he is not dealing with trying to get his head and thusly neck through the long turtleneck part, shit’s painful enough as it is. Him fiddling with the collar in the mirror, the wound is still jagged enough that the fabric brushing against the edges sends twinges of pain up and down his neck. It’s not great. Not at all. Plus, it covers the wound about as well as he expected it to; if anyone one stares or specifically looks at his neck then he’s screwed. 

He’s seriously tempted to just... not go to school. Zone spending the day laying in the park would be better. But the lasts thing he needs is the school calling his parents and them wanting to have a talk with him. Or everything forbid he runs into them while he’s supposed to be in class. Even if he was still getting along with them, which he’s not going to be anytime soon, he wouldn’t want them around him to possibly notice he’s injured. 

Meaning school pretty much has to happen. Sighing to himself and moving down the stairs gingerly enough to not make his sweater move, heading out to go suffer through wildly unnecessary schooling. 

…

He waves at Sam and Tuck, they’re huddled by his locker, man does he ever love them. Tuck looks so worried at him, “show me immediately. What the hell, man”. 

Danny smirking and gingerly pulling out and down his sweater, wincing a little from the pressure against the back of his neck, “Sam told you?”.

Tuck’s entire face cringes up, “damn that’s hardcore, did you actually thank Dash for doing that to your poor neck”. 

Danny letting go of his sweater and bopping the techno geek on the head, “he literally reattached my head, of course I did”, shrugging, “sure the way he did it is a little shit and a pain in the ass but at least I have a head again”. 

Both of them roll their eyes at him but they’re smiling so it’s pretty clear it’s all in good fun and jest. Tuck poking him, “oh and we’ve already agreed that we’re taking your notes because you absolutely shouldn’t be lifting and lowering you head constantly for hours. You should be attempting to heal”.

“Pfft, since when do I go out of my way specifically for healing but I’m lazy and you guys know that, meaning you know I’m not gonna say no”. 

All three chuckling as him and Tuck head to their first class, Sam going her own way after a bit. 

Danny makes it though exactly twenty three minutes of class before his ghost sense goes off. At least the ice going up his throat felt faintly soothing, as he shoots his arm up, “bathroom”, and leaves without being given the go ahead. No one ever tried to stop him anymore, all he would get was annoyed glares or sad ones in Lancer’s case.

Pulling into the bathroom and changing, relishing the lack of pain for a bit before zipping up invisibly through the ceiling; he’s got a ghost to track down. 

He has absolutely no issue finding the ghost. Why? 

Because he immediately head butted a motorcycle the second his head exited the fucking roof top.

His poor neck. Zone. Why him? 

Danny floating backwards, rubbing his head and grumbling, “Johnny? What the hell, man?”. 

“Oh damn you really did get decapitated, huh?”. 

“The fuck you think? Duh”, sighing and crossing his arms at the ghost, “did you just show up to see for yourself?”. He’s going to be a little pissed if that’s the case. He can do without the ghosts doing ‘wellness checks’ on him anymore than certain ones already did. 

Johnny snorts, “surprised it didn’t wind up mounted on a wall”. 

To be fair, that’s kinda what Danny himself thought would be what happened if he ever did lose his damn head, but that was mostly because of Skulker being the only one that usually tried to ‘relive’ him of his head. Scoffing, “as if I’d ever let Skulker’s sorry ass take my freaking head. Now are you gonna leave peacefully or are you gonna start doing donuts on the rooftop?”. 

“That second one sounds pretty solid but I don’t feel like dealing with your head falling back off because that looks like a damn hack job”.

“Hey! You try fixing anything while blind, deaf, and unable to taste or smell!”.

“Damn”. 

Danny chuckling, “I know, right? Now you leaving or?”, and making shooing motions. 

Johnny smirks, revving his engine. Danny sighing mentally because he knows that translates to ‘let’s play tag, mother fucker’. Johnny shoots off with a, “depends if you can catch me, Phantom”. Typical.

“Damn it, Johnny!”. And now Danny’s off chasing Johnny and his stupid motorcycle. He rarely actually tries to shoot the guy because it feels like a dick move when all the guy generally does is street race and drive on roofs. Hell some of the twenty-something’s actually adored the biker and would race him; which fine Danny let slide because he thought it was a nice human/ghost bonding experience even if it was technically a crime. But hey, Danny’s existence was technically a crime too so why should he care anyways? 

Plus, if he’s being honest, chase racing him was kinda fun, felt a little more like being his actual age again. It’s was practically play for him, which was slightly sad, but they only make it a few streets down and destroy one streetlight before Danny’s got Johnny souped. Danny flipping the thermos in the air a little sillily.

“Oh zone! are you okay!”.

Danny jerks in the air and looks somewhat down at the person that looked to be having tea on their balcony. “Yes, worry not citizen”.

Fuck Danny’s luck, the guy points at his own neck, “uh, you sure about that?”.

Crap. What should he say? “Worry not, it’s not fresh and is healing perfectly fine”. Danny salutes and basically flees the conversation. Especially since he heard the guy whisper about how ‘holy shit ghosts can get actual long term injuries???’. Not good.

He basically speed walks to his home ec class with Sam. Poking her a little hard and trying to ignore the stupid pain in his throat and the fact that he’s pretty sure headbutting a motorcycle bent on of the brackets Dash drilled to goddamn his neck, “a civilian noticed”.

“Well shit. Not surprised but still”, Sam shrugs, “well Tucker’s got any mentions of you set up to ping him so we’ll see if this person keeps things to themselves or not”.

After all, there really wasn’t much else any of them could do.

…

Does he get a ping from Tuck? Absolutely. It takes all of eight minutes. Danny groaning to himself, he’d thump his head on the table but that would probably hurt something fierce.

Treft26fu: @ whoever DECAPITAED Phantom, you suck and he is weirdly okay with it

Treft26fu: or maybe whoever just wrapped a cord around his neck and TRIED to decapitate him

Treft26fu: anyway this just in ghosts can get proper people like injuries

The guy goes on a tangent for a while actually. Tuck’s managed to actually block the comments from being visible to anyone, thank fuck. Tuck throwing a proper text his way.

Geek: what do you want me to do if he notices no one’s responding to his comments?

Danny humming to himself, the vibrations down his throat aren’t great but aren’t bad either. Well most people would be annoyed if they found out Phantom was silencing them or someone else.

Ghost: pretend to be the G.I.W. silencing people from releasing ghosts are sentient feeling beings

Geek: *snort* nice. So that’s ’I’ll take anti-G.I.W. propaganda for $100’.

Ghost: I’ll take subtle beginning of an uprising for $200

Geek: creating deepfakes in 3… 2.. 1.

Danny just rolls his eyes at the guy not responding after that. Mrs. Canecher snapping, “eyes up here, Fenton”, startling him a little and making him jerk; more than a few people laugh at him. Jerks.

At least he makes it through the rest of his class, goddamn.

Of course that’s exactly when shit goes south. In the form of one Dash Baxter… again kinda. Dash bodily shouldering him into the wall as soon as Danny makes it out of the classroom. And of course Danny winces from that, because getting bashed into a wall is kind of jarring to the fucking bolts and staples in his fucking neck, thank you very much Dash.

Dash’s sneer is practically a growl, even if his eyes don’t really look to be in it, “aw look at little pathetic Fen-tiny flinching from a wall. How ‘bout I give you a real reason to flinch from me”.

Dash grabbing his sweater collar and yanking him up off the ground at the same time as both Danny and Sam snap, “don’t!”.

Dash of course scoffs at their attempt to stop him, sneering down at Danny and ramming him into the wall. Danny closing an eye, wincing, and hissing in pain and frustration. Why did Dash have to be such a fucking jerk all the time? And oh great it feels like that bent bit of metal bracket is being pressed into a fucking vein or something since a quarter of his neck is going numb and fuzzy. Fucking ow. He can feel some portions of nails getting pushed deeper into his skin and blood welling up around them. Wheezing, “put me, down, Dash”; wow his voice sounded extra shit. Like he’d gone and rubbed sand paper on all the nail cuts.

Then Sam, his boss ass him-damned friend, has her boot off and wielded in record time, fully prepared to beat Dash with it regardless of Danny making it very clear he doesn’t want his friends doing that shit to Dash or any other bullies for his sake. He’d rather himself be bullied than anyone weaker/more fragile. Hopefully the fact that she’s doing that when she normally doesn’t is enough to make Dash realise that she’s serious and he needs to fuck off.

Course Dash doesn’t even seem to notice, instead glaring down at a glaring Danny. Which at first makes Danny think this is some ‘dominance’ crap where Dash is just trying to get him ‘scared’ and get him to ‘back down’ and act meek. But a second or two going by and Dash’s glare looking progressively more horrified, gets Danny to actually slap Dash’s wrist off of him.

Shit.

Okay.

Flee?

Flee.

The second Danny’s feet are back on the ground he grabs Sam’s wrist and books it; Dash too stunned to do anything till Danny’s got them around a corner. Danny turning the two of them invisible immediately so he can tenderly put a few fingers up to his throat and wheezing in pain.

Sam whispering, “you good”. Danny shaking his head, blinking away a bit of tearing, and whispering back, “honestly no. He’s, he’s, probably, the worst, person to, notice, this”.

“Considering it’s his handy work?”.

Danny winces a little, nodding slightly and being mildly pissed at the way that pulls on the staples.

Both stilling and staring when Dash, still looking a little horrified, appears around the corner and looks around, him frowning in confusion, “what? Where?”. When he seems sold on currently being alone he stares at the ground, then at his slightly shaking hands, and mutters, “am I just hallucinating now?”, and actually curls in on himself a little as he walks off quickly.

Great. Now Danny feels bad. He’s not trying to make Dash question his own sanity! Ugh. And then Danny feels something hard and definitely metal drop in his throat, instantly sending him into a coughing fit, and practically collapsing to the floor in pain; he absolutely drops the invisibility without really paying any attention to having done so. Sam following him down to ground, worried.

Of course all this results in Dash basically rushing back to see Danny kneeling on the ground, one hand on his throat and another on the ground, while Sam is rubbing his back and glaring bloody murder at the returning jock.

Danny coughs up the end of one of the fucking bolts, it clinking on the ground is extremely loud and it fucking rolls away because of course it does, rolls away right into Dash’s shoe. The clink of it falling over feels like a thunderclap while Danny’s still wheezing and screwing his face up in pain.

At least no one’s in the hallway now, having moved quickly off to their classes the second Sam started actually threatening Dash with her boot; her wrath was well-feared, good. She’d be proud, if Danny wasn’t currently groaning into the floor.

Danny lifting up his head enough to eye Dash staring down at the bolt end touching his foot, Danny deciding fuck it and flopping onto his back on the ground with a wet cough and wince. Sam glancing down at him, “you going to just lay there?”, then going back to staring at Dash.

Danny groans again, absolutely crying a little, “I, am ’ever, lettin’, ‘one bolt, my fuckin’, ’eck, agin”.

Dash fucking squeaks of all things and shuffles over to stare down at Danny, cautiously avoiding the glaring goth. Danny glares at Dash without much feeling, “what? Go’, any ‘ore insuls, to ‘row, my ‘ay?”, coughing wetly and wiping at his mouth with a sleeve, careful not to jostle his head, “or ‘eel, like tossin’, e ‘round, ‘ore?”.

Dash blinks harshly and speaks again, “Phantom? You… coughed up a bolt end”, the guy is fiddling with the damn corroded off bolt end, the green burning on it is very stark. Why the fuck was the guy fiddling with that thing? Ugh.

Sam jerking out a hand, glaring at the jock, “give it and go away”.

“What? I- no! Screw off Manson!”. Ah Dash sounds slightly more normal now. Still freaked but not weirdly flat anymore.

Danny snickers, wincing from his throats bullshit, “I ‘ean, ur the one, eno ‘rewed my, ‘roat”.

Sam groans immediately at him, “goddamn it, Danny”.

Even Dash winces down at him, “Zone fuck, holy shit, you’re… Phantom?”, the guy drops the bolt and runs his hands through his hair, “oh zone I reattached Fenton’s head, zone”. Sam running after the rolling bolt, “damn you too, Dash”. Danny has faith she’ll get it before it causes any issues. Dash is busy pacing in circles currently so…

Yeah. Not helpful.

Fuck his neck felt kinda totally raw in spots and based on the wetness on the back of his neck and head he’s gonna guess he’s making a bit of a puddle of blood. Fun. Ow. Wheezing, “this, this is, ‘finitly the ‘econd, wors’ ‘jury, I’ve had”. He can feel one of the holes in his throat sliding back and forth across the length of the bolt when he talks or swallows. This is hell a little bit.

Dash stops and crouches down on his ankles near Danny’s head staring at him but only kinda seeing him, “second? Worst?”, sputtering, “decapitation? Is second place? What? And I’m? Staring down at Phantom?”, blinking harshly, “Fenton’s-your Phantom?”.

Sam comes back and smacks Dash over the head, “you better keep that to yourself, jackass, now help me move Danny to a bathroom or else”, and grabs one of Danny’s arm, Danny just smacking her with the other as a way to give it over. At least Dash jerks up harshly and does grab his ankles, because yeah Danny’s not standing up right now, not a chance. Dash muttering, “never met your heroes, you might have to put their head back on and find out they’ve been letting you beat them up”.

Danny, with his head resting on one arm so he doesn’t have to strain his -very injured and still stitching itself back together- neck muscles to hold his head up, “gla’ ta see yur handlin’ tis well”. As it is, all this being moved crap is making him feel like one of the staples has popped out partly and is just swinging around tugging on bits of still attached skin.

“Danny, shut up before you jack your throat up even more”. Danny huffing an extremely cold breath at her for that. Her glaring down at him, “jerk”, he can tell her hearts not really in the insult though which was absolutely because he was being an ass purely because his throat felt like it was trying to rekill him and AND now someone has basically figured his shit out. Ugh.

At least they make it into the bathroom, without anyone noticing. Of course the door swings back open the second it closes though, it’s Tuck thank everything; meanwhile Sam vaguely gently puts Danny’s arms, and thus head and neck and upper back, down. Sam and Tuck rounding on Dash who’s still holding Danny’s ankles up for some dumb reason, they point aggressively at the jock, growling, “you”.

Danny wheezing from his less than comfortable position only halfway laying on the floor, “‘ash, if ya ‘on’t, put me ‘own, Imma, ‘ick ya”. Dash doesn’t even react to Sam’s and Tuck’s fingers pointing in his face so Danny absolutely intangibly frees an ankle from the guys hand and kicks him one in the chin; Dash sputtering and dropping Danny’s other ankle immediately.

At least he’s now back entirely on the ground, the nice cold sweet ground. The faint metallic plink on the ground absolutely means he definitely lost a staple though, way too quiet to have been a whole ass bolt; plus he’s pretty sure there’d have to be a big gapping hole for one of those to actually fall through a hole in his skin then onto the floor. The plink also getting Tuck’s attention, him lifting Danny’s head up gingerly and pocketing the kinda eroded staple, Danny doesn’t even look at him, “today is ‘hit”.

Tuck ruffles his hair quickly, “and you sound like shit”, before standing back up and crossing his arms at Dash.

“Ya rye ahvin’ a suck in’ ‘roat wound”.

Sam sighs, explaining to Tuck for Danny, “he coughed up a bolt end and even though I told him to stop talking he won’t shut up”, glaring at Dash more aggressively, “so?”. While Tuck gives Danny a chastising, “dude”. Danny just shrugging his shoulders, wincing at the neck movement, and going back to staring emptily at the bathroom ceiling.

He really shouldn’t have come to school. Like at all. Absolutely terrible decision. Stupid him. Stupid stupid him. Ugh.

Dash’s swallow is loud and makes Danny internally cringe at how much swallowing that aggressively would hurt right now. “So the thing I gave myself a massive hangover over has come back to haunt me on Fenton’s neck, what the fuck”.

Danny blinks, wheezing instead of chuckling, “ah. Ya ‘ctually raid-ed, folk’ lior’ cabnet?”.

Sam and Tuck giving him judgemental looks, while Dash throws his hands out baffled, “I spent an hour shaking and stapling my heroes neck what of course I did-what-oh-my-zone-this-is-a-nightmare”, and starts pacing in circles again.

Tuck chuckles though, eyeing the jock, “are you saying that because Phantom’s Fenton or because of having to deal with a horrific injury”.

“Both!”, Dash stops and gestures aggressively at the geek, “both”, sticking both arms down at Danny, “how even? Zone fuck did your parents experiment on you or something?”, screwing up his face and seemingly speaking more so to himself, “can I get away with beating the Fenton’s up?”.

Danny snorts, wincing, “ow fuck. Naw, my ‘ad, will ‘reak you, ‘ike a ‘ooth-ick, ‘ash”.

“That doesn’t mean he will!”, shaking his arms at Danny, “you didn’t”,

Sam scowls down at Danny, “Danny, shut. Up”, then walking closer to Dash and pointing a finger right in Dash’s face, “one, Danny will be mad if you try to fight his dad. Two, he’ll stop you and fuck his throat up more anyways. Three, it was an accident that you have no damn right to know anything about you asshat. Four-”, signing and dropping her hand, “-my opinion of you just, unfortunately, went up a notch”.

Danny blinking and turning his head, ow, enough to look at her, “oily ‘hit”,

“Shut. Up”.

Danny huffs at her, pushing himself to sit upright with some effort, pointing at Dash then shrugging and dropping his hand.

Dash blinks, “how are you so calm if you’re not dead”.

Tuck groaning, “oh he is dead, just not entirely”.

“That makes zero sense, loser”.

Danny is having none of that, he lifts a hand up again and ecto-blasts the bathroom stall next to Dash’s head. Dash jumps, squeaks, and slowly looks to stare at Danny wide-eyed. Danny quirking an eyebrow, “bad”.

“I- um- okay?”, Dash still sounds squeaky, looking at Sam and Tuck, “holy shit you’re sidekicks”.

For once both Sam and Tuck facepalm for a reason other than Danny being a dumbass. Tuck laughing while Sam sighs, “yes, Dash, obviously”, gesturing at Danny who grins dumbly, “you really think we’d let this dumbass do shit on his own? He’d do something stupider than he usually does”, grimacing at Danny, “Danny, you’re leaking again”.

This time it’s Tuck sighing and grabbing some paper towel to clean Danny’s throat and mouth off. Danny’s almost tempted to wheeze really hard to maybe get blood splattered around but that would be really dumb and really painful for no good fucking reason. He just really hates today and his stupid body right now. Grinning instead, “‘ink ya can un’end a bracke’? Kinda ‘ill ’on’t have feelin’ in ‘art of mi ‘eck”.

Tuck glares at him, “what”, sighing disbelievingly, “you shoulda mentioned that immediately, man. Why do you do this shit to us and yourself”.

Dash flinching, “did I mess up?”, while Tuck moves around to where Danny’s tapping his neck. Danny shrugging, “I ‘ean, num’ ‘eans naw pain, sew”, and shrugs. And sure, part of his mouth was also numb which wasn’t great but hey at least the pain is mostly only radiating from other sections of his neck, giving him one little area of relief.

Sam gestures at Danny though still staring at Dash, “see what I mean. A Dumbass”.

Dash actually nods agreeingly, jerk, before backing up a step or two when Tuck pulls out his personal media kit and one of those sharp art knives from inside, tweezers too but that was probably less startling to the jock. “Going to have to rip a few out, man. And probably cut some stuff”. Him yanking out a staple actually takes so much effort Tuck falls on his back.

Danny cringing, ow, “my ‘ody sure ha’ attichme’ isdues, huh?”. Tuck pushing himself up and clamping down on another staple, “you suck. Sam you wanna help instead of glaring Dash out of existence?”.

The goth huffs, points aggressively at Dash, “you. Stay”, before moving over and grabbing the wannabe scalpel; Danny gripping his knees at the almost feeling of sharp metal on skin.

Oh great it kinda looks like Dash is shaking a bit again. Lovely. But the guy shakes himself off somewhat and actually comes over to help, sorta help at least, too. Grabbing Danny’s shoulders to, Danny guesses, keep him steady.

Danny absolutely feels the second Sam, or Tuck he’s not looking, gets the metal unbent. Him jerking forward, a hand to his neck and headbutting Dash’s chest, “ow! Fuck! Shit! Agh!”. Okay note to self, no pain for a while thanks to numbness equals sudden intense pain when numbness goes goodbye bye. Ow. Why is he so stupid? And Dash is so startled he doesn’t even move or do anything more than huff like he just got the wind knocked out of him which he probably did; Dash falling on his ass seconds later, “shit Fenton! Ow!”.

Sam moving quickly to stitch up the hole she had to cut in him to get good enough access to fix his shit, “stay still, your lucky you didn’t rebend the thing”, grumbling to herself, “at least that jerk bought solid brackets”.

Dash wheezing a little and rubbing his chest, “I wasn’t going to patch freaking Phantom up with cheap shit he’d break in a fight”.

Tuck getting up to clean things, and himself, off in the sink, “that’s actually smart, congrats”, eyeing Sam and Danny, “how’d it get bent anyways”.

Sam growling without looking away from the work she’s almost done, “Dash here slammed him into a wall”.

Danny, kinda staring at Dash as something to do and trying to ignore the pain and pulsing, “actulie I head’utted Jon’s ‘ike”,

“Why would you do that!”.

“Acci’en’! Gosh!”.

Sam huffing, “well the wall didn’t help”, then looking at Dash as she cleans her own hands, “like I said, he’s a dumbass”.

Dash nods slowly, “yeah”, looking down at Danny, who’s just sitting on the ground slightly curled in on himself, “is, are you gonna be good? And why did this hurt but not me drilling your spine?”.

Tuck actually gives Dash a supportive backhanded swat on the arm, grinning, “don’t worry about it, he heals like a beast. Also, he doesn’t feel pain as Phantom”.

Danny straightening out some and stretching, wincing at the throat hole moving over the exposed bolt again, “a ‘essing and curs’”, and promptly coughing again, spitting up metal bits, at least he caught all the shreds and corroded bits in his hand this time. Grimacing at the mess of spit, blood, and metal; getting up with a stagger to wash his hand off, “ew”.

Dash gestures aggressively at Danny as Danny turns around to eye him, “I wouldn’t call that ‘healing’ at all!”.

“Dude, ya re-atta-ed mi ‘ead! Imma ‘ay Imma doin’ a damn ‘ood job”. Oh hey, it’s slightly easier to talk now, cool. It feels like that one hole is closing up now, that musta been where the metal he was just coughing up came from.

Dash opens and closes his mouth, humming and shrugging after a beat, “yeah I guess that would kill most people, huh”. Danny wheeze laughing as Sam and Tuck shout, “YES!”, at that.

No one says anything for a bit until Danny clears his throat, which was dumb to do, and winces. At least one throat hole is gone now, he is so not going to class until he apparently coughs up the other bolt end. “Okay. So. We ‘ood?”.

Tuck grinning at Danny, “well you sound slightly better”.

Danny shrugging, “bye bye ‘aping throat wound”. Tuck gives him a thumbs up like a real friend. Then, of course, he feels the other bolt end inside his throat fall, fuck. That of course causes another coughing fit that sends him to the ground again, Tuck and Sam rushing over to pat his back hard till the damn bolt gets coughed up. Danny just groaning and rolling to lay on his back again, “mevar ‘ind”.

Dash wheezes, “I- um, we’re good. Yeah we’re good. But if I ever run up on an injured Phantom I’m calling your idiot friends since I clearly suck at it”,

Tuck waving Dash off, “Dash, none of us would have known what to do with a decapitation. That was a first for Danny-dude”.

“Yay ‘or mi”, Danny shaking away a few tears, man his body was an asshole. Sitting up enough to look at Dash more properly, “ya ‘id ‘ood”.

Sam snapping, “no he did not!”.

Danny pointing aggressively at her,“tis ’raight an’ ha-n’t fallen oof”.

“That doesn’t mean much”.

“Be ‘orse it I ‘ried to mi ‘elf!”.

“Your head would be backwards and upside down somehow if you did it yourself, moron”,

Danny flips her off. Dash actually chuckles though, “this is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever been in, wow”, then collapsing against a bathroom stall, which causes the doors to open, which results in Dash falling backward with a yelp and fucking knocking himself out with the toilet.

You.. you gotta be kidding? Seriously? Danny blinks, “‘eri-yous-lie?”. Sam actually bursts out laughing while Tuck runs over to help get Dash out of the stall, him snapping, “don’t you even try to think about helping, Danny”.

“Eh I ‘ink I ‘elped enou’ bi ‘ockin’ ‘im out”.

“No”.

“Yes”.

Sam and Tuck glare at each other before laughing, all three of them winding up on the floor laughing, or wheezing in Danny’s case. Dash groaning from the floor a few seconds later, “did I just get knocked out by a toilet?”.

Sam snorts, smirk showing in her voice, “yup”.

“That’s really hilarious actually”, Dash shakes his head, “if I wasn’t probably high on Advil my head would kill me”.

“Hey, at ‘east ‘vil actu-eel ‘orks on ya”.

Dash snorts, “that’s rough man”.

“Eel mi ‘out it”.

“I have no idea what you just said”.

“Piss oof”.

Danny and Tuck pushing themselves to sit up, meaning that now everyone’s basically just sitting in a sorta circle in a men’s bathroom. Cool. Man his throat is killing him though. The fresh stitches on the back left side of his neck stand out in the swath of pain pretty noticeably, why? Because they hurt less. A staple gun was never, ever, getting added to the medi kits; Ancients.

Tuck eyeing Dash, “so, are you actually going to keep your mouth shut about this? About finding out your idols secret identity?”.

Dash puts up his hands, “I’m not Wes, I’m not that stupid”, flushing a little, “but I definitely did tell Kwan about, uh”, gesturing awkwardly at Danny, “patching you? up? Yeah”.

Danny shrugs, trying not to move his neck with the motion, it kinda works, “eh, figs”.

Tuck chuckling and shaking his head, “he means ‘figures’, which yeah even Sam can’t blame you for venting to your best friend, that would be a dick move. Right Sam”.

Sam scowls, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, before sighing, “fine. It really would be”. Danny giving her and the jock thumbs up, because yeah, talking was not helping his healing ass like at all.

Dash chuckles awkwardly, “yeah, Kwan’s the best”.

Sam sighing, “Kwan will also realise Danny’s Phantom if he sees”, rubbing her temples, “meaning we still have a jock to keep an eye out for”.

Absently, Danny knows it would be a massive dick move to force Dash to keep this from his best friend. Granted Sam and Tuck might also beat him if he gives the jock the go ahead to tell Kwan. But unfortunately Dash continues, “and he did tell Star, who told Paulina, who, uh, told all the cheerleaders, who probably told everyone”.

Sam glares murderously at Dash then Danny, “I’m going to kill him”.

Danny pouting, “‘am, it is ‘ery rude ta ‘reaten ta kill some-on in ‘ront of a ‘hos’”; and then spits up some metal and just rubs it on his pants, he’ll wash them later maybe. All three grimace at him. Whatever.

“Um, let me point out that they did tell everyone and I did not expect to witness hardcore medical drama and hear mind breaking info when I decided to take a smoke break inside for a change. Hi”.

All four jerk and slowly look at the guy peaking out from a slightly open bathroom stall door. Well. Damn it. Screw his existence entirely. Dash and Sam getting up instantly and both looking ready to beat this guy into silence for Danny’s sake. Aw, they’re bonding over murderous intent, how utterly evil and adorable. Meanwhile, Danny decided fuck it and grabs out his phone. Moving to the Amity Teens chat:

thealivedanny: those whose eyes see have mouths that don’t move

Haleykaley: that’s ominous hot shit

Bailnwail: has Fentons phone been possessed again?

Tuck’s phone pings, “Danny… why did my phone just ping the sound it does when you message a public chat?”.

“Eye do ya hav’ a ‘iose spec-fy for mi?”.

“I’ve had one ever since someone accidentally messaged the very public gaming chat a death threat meant for Vlad and a picture of your broken arm with exposed bone”, Tuck glancing at his phone, “ah you’re just terrorising the masses, I see”.

The guy comes out of the bathroom stall entirely, hands up at the goth and jock, “hey I ain’t my fault you guys didn’t do a sweep of the place before starting your soap opera medical drama”.

Danny holding up a finger, “echly it’s a super-atura drame”.

“Debatable”, the guy clears his throat, “look it doesn’t really look like there’s any point in silence here but I ain’t no fucking punk ass snitch”, dropping his hands and shrugging, “just ignore me stealing baby formula for my kid brother and we good”.

Danny pushing himself to stand up, his throat felt less hole filled now, “man, I’a eel tha’ shit fer ya”. Then glancing at his phone when it pings, it’s freaking Dash in the teen chat room.

Football king: those whose eyes see have mouths that don’t move

Danny looking at the jock with a quirked eyebrow, said jock gives him a slightly too wide-eyed thumbs up, “you, uh, seem to have this covered so I’m going to go drown myself-”.

“Didn’ ta toile do tha’ ger ya already?”.

“In Advil, Fen-taco or Danny, whatever”.

Danny snorts, wincing a little, “eh don’ ‘ange. An’ ‘on’t haveta craw to hospit”.

“Screw you, oh this is stupid”, Dash scowling, “and like the guy who crawled into a refrigerator should have any say”.

Tuck eyeing Danny, “oh you told him your stupid rum cereal story?”.

“He ‘ad plans ta get ‘runk, it wah apple-cable!”:

The dude wheeze laughs, “fucking ‘apple cable’, nice”. Danny absolutely flips him off, but the guy smiles, “nice to know our little hero is a dumbass”.

Sam eyes him and decides he passes whatever mental test she was giving him, “yeah. Yeah he is”.

Danny rolling his eyes and looking at his phone, at least nine more people have posted the same ‘those whose eyes see have mouths that don’t move’ message. Well shit. Okay. Well… at least Danny’s got a clue for how many people have seen and just fucking put two and two together to get four. Wes also threw in a ‘those whose eyes see have mouths that do move’, because he’s an ass. Fucking Wes, goddamn. No chill. At least a ton of people respond back either insulting or threatening Wes. Good. And Dash also leaving shaking his head is probably good too.

The guy eyes them before jabbing a thumb towards the bathroom stall he came out of, “am I cool to finish my cigarette? Since I put that shit out as soon as you guys hauled ass in here?”.

Sam sighing, her, Tuck, and Danny all exchanging shrugs before Sam gives the guy a go ahead, “sure fine, whatever. But yeah, that snitches get stitches and wind up in ditches thing can absolutely be very literal”.

“Tell that to the whole school then”.

“I will”. Sam basically grabs Tuck and Danny and drags them out of the bathroom. Her grumbling at Tuck as she continues dragging them, likely to their next class, “how bad is it”.

Tuck speaking while scrolling through his phone, “bad, there’s really no way to keep a cap on this”.

Danny hums, which doesn’t hurt nearly as much now that the bolts aren’t inside his throat. Pulling out his phone and dropping a link to one of the many videos of his folks ranting about ‘evil ghosts’ in the chat. Which gets the chat bombarded with ‘THOSE WHOSE EYES SEE HAVE MOUTHS THAT DON’T MOVE’ and he’s pretty pleased with himself over that.

Tuck snorting as Sam pulls them to their seats, “smooth dude, now everyone who didn’t already know, knows it had to do with ghosts, GrEaT iDeA”. Oh the sarcasm was thick there.

Sam pulling out her own phone and scrolling, smacking Danny on the arm, it would have been a head slap if his neck wasn’t still fucked, “idiot! But ugh, at least it seems like it’ll keep people quiet. At least from the Fenton’s and maybe adults in general”.

Tuck shaking his head, “yeah, I still don’t get why all the adults have such a hard time seeing that, at the very least, Phantom’s good”.

Sam growling right back, “because they’re stupid and think that just because they’re adults and we’re kids that there’s no way they could be wrong and us right. And that if kids all agree on or do something then it must be dumb, wrong, or immature”.

Lily turning to face them, “a lot of us also do stupid shit, case and point”, pointing at Danny, “you coming to school with a barely attached head that looks awful holy shit”.

Ah crap, Danny mildly panicky readjusts up his turtleneck, fuck him so much. Tuck and Sam just sigh tiredly at this point, and another ‘those whose eyes see have mouths that don’t move’ gets added to the chat. But the girl grins at him, “you could totally get an awesome tat to cover that though”, leaning over, “I know a guy”.

What?

Sam is interested immediately, “oh do tell, I’ve been dying to get some webs on my shoulders”, grinning evilly, “especially because my parents will stop trying to stick me in strapless dresses then”.

The two girls absolutely do exchange info while one of the cheer leaders, Brittney he thinks, be-lines to his desk. Shit shit shit. But all she does is slam down a thing of lozenges, “here, we use these after practices and games since all that cheering makes for a wicked sore throat”. Danny is confused, “thanks?”. She cringes, “wow you do need them”, smirking, “at least you sound like a gruff musician now”; and walks off to her seat.

Apparently everyone takes that as a sign to give Danny stuff, because goddamn everyone brings him something and by the time the teacher shows up Danny has a little mound of random trinkets and things on his desk. Sam and Tuck are wheeze laughing at him. The teacher quirks an eyebrow at him, “Mr. Fenton?”.

“I’m a ‘agon apparently and tis my horde”.

“Are you sick?”.

“No physicals but in da head prob”.

The teacher rolls her eyes at him before starting the lesson. He spends the entire class getting bombarded by direct messages.

‘Get lots of sleep’

‘There’s some stupid powerful muscle relaxers in my locker’

‘West side bathrooms water is green again so don’t use that to wash up’

‘Do you have enough food’

‘I’m giving Dash first aid lessons against his will for you’

‘You want some apple pie’

‘Whoever did that is going down in my notes as ‘head stealing asshole’ forever more’

‘I cleaned your blood up, no worries’

‘You want more losengezes’

‘I’m making everyone sign a get well soon card bye the bye, it’s glittery and cute’

‘There’s balloons in your locker now, open when most chaotic for maximum chaos’

‘I will cry on your shoulder to feed you emotions if that’s a real thing ghosts do’

‘I’ve got a great emotion support ferret if you want something to pet’

‘I shall supply you with an alarming amount of soothing teas’

And on and on it went, he had to put his phone on silent for fucks sake! It was kinda cute and nice though. Even if it seemed like the entire school had now decided to baby him. And as soon as class ends he gets jumped by one of the drama kids, who throws gauze around his neck.

Danny sputtering and taking a ‘no limbs are allowed to touch’ stance, the gauze hanging like a scarf, “why!?”.

“To wrap it so it doesn’t get infected, obviously”. The kid just walks away.

Tuck, looking at his phone, chuckles, “dude, you’ve been given the ‘is baby’ role”. Danny just pouts and pulls the gauze off from the back of his neck. This wasn’t useful for him, he’d dissolve it, but hey the sentiment was nice.

Jasper chuckling as he comes out of the classroom behind them, “yeah because you’re not taking care of yourself apparently”.

Someone actually gives him a whole ass pie in the hallway before the trio manages to get to their next class, he’s pretty sure they all actually missed lunch somewhere in the time they were dealing with Dash. So hey, free food! Definitely appreciated. Even if he hunches over it to make the fact that he’s just phasing pieces into his stomach not super obvious, and it’s not as good as Skulker’s but the teacher doesn’t give him shit for eating in class beyond glaring… which half the class glares right back at the teacher for.

Then, of course, his ghost sense goes off. Fuck him entirely. Hand shooting up, “bathroom”, and him fucking off. This time he’s careful about potential headbuttable objects when he phases his head through the school roof.

By the time he finds the ghost, it’s Technus annoyingly, there’s not much for him to do. Why? Because at least twelve teens and goddman twenty little kids are kicking and throwing things at the ghost and shouting about leaving Phantom alone. Technus is actually curled up crying, “I CAME TO CHECK ON HIM! PLEASE STOP SMALL CHILDREN!”.

Danny is so fucking confused.

Him floating down slowly, “uh? Whatcha doin’?”.

One of the teens stops, huffing, “well you need to heal, dontcha? Literally no one’s actually seen you with an injury that lasts more than a few seconds”, shrugging, “so no fighting for you”.

Is… is this how he’s going to have to tell the town that he actually likes getting into fights? Oh man, awkward. “I enjoy it though”.

“You are injured. No fighting. In fact-”, the girl digs in her pocket and holds out some tickets to him, “-you shouldn’t even be in school. Go have fun at that little petting zoo in Elmerton”.

Danny takes them because it would be rude not to, right. Blinking at the whimpering ghost, “I’m… still gonna soup him”.

“That’s what you call it? That’s adorable”.

Danny blushes and quickly captures the beaten miserable ghost, immediately leaving. Making it back to class at the same time that Sam and Tuck get bodily pushed out of it. Danny blinking at them, “uh?”.

Sam shakes her head fondly, “apparently we’re supposed to go to a petting zoo?”. Tuck chuckling, “we’ve also been given firm instructions to swaddle you, but I am not caring you around in a teenager sized fabric baby swaddle”; he actually holds up a bunch of fabric.

Danny blinks harshly, “what”, shaking his head and holding up the tickets, “some kids were curb stomping Technus mosh pit style. I’m legit a little touched”. Sam gives an impressed whistle before snagging the tickets, shrugging, and dragging both boys off. Guess they are indeed going to a petting zoo.

“Hey good morning guys, welcome to the Elmerton petting zoo. We’ve got brushes and some treats to the side, or you can just give them pet downs and love with your hands and hearts; everyone here is super friendly, though Flapjacks the black goat is a headbutter”.

Sam snorts eyeing Danny, “you’re a goat, Danny”.

“Goated, you mean”.

She absolutely smacks him for that.

The lady continues, “most places won’t let you hand feed but we gave up on that because you Amity kids are a nightmare and never follow rules”.

Tuck snorting, “how’d you know we’re Amity Parkers”.

“You’re skipping school boldly and look dead inside, obvious tell”. Danny absolutely doubles over wheeze laughing at that, a rabbit sniffs him cautiously.

“And just like goats, you guys are always finding new and interesting ways to nearly kill yourselves. Muffintail got stuck upside down in a random bucket last night and screamed bloody murder till one of the dogs got him out”, pointing to some signs, “we have more neat info about goats over there besides their desire to die”.

Danny snickers, smirking at Sam and Tuck, “Muffintail huh? ‘It’s muffin time, who wants a muffin, please I just wanna die. Please somebody kill me, please it’s muffin time’”.

Tuck wheezes, “fuck that’s so old Danny, zone damn it”. The petting zoo lady laughs to herself too.

Sam wandering off to grab some carrots and poking the roasters with them, at least the roosters actually eat said carrots. A peacock jumps on her head though, Danny and Tuck both absolutely taking a photo of that shit. The zoo lady smiling at that before speaking up again, “before you start wandering around too much, Amity Parker’s aren’t allowed in the horse or deer area since all that ghost smell freaks them out. Please don’t scare our horses and deers. And since there’s blood on your sweater, please leave the wolves alone as they will bite you”.

Tuck laughs while Danny’s face heats up something fierce, he absolutely didn’t bring a spare sweater though so… Danny muttering, “I forgot about that”. Tuck patting his back before he does actually wonder off to bother the other rabbits.

Of course the second Danny’s left up to his own devices he immediately gets rammed in the back by a black goat, which proceeds to walk on his back when he falls over. The petting zone lady scolding it, “Flapjacks no”, when the goat physically jumps up and down on him. Sam absolutely got a video and sent it to the teen chat along with a ‘can’t go anywhere with this dumbass’. There’s mass responses of ‘bad goat!’ and one person commenting that ‘oh I know that one, he’s called flapjacks because he’s a jackass’. The lady does get Flapjacks off him long enough for him to get swarmed by curious bunnies, Tuck following after and laughing at the bunny pile that Danny’s become. That also goes into the chat and gets far more ‘cute’ responses.

The amount of time Danny gets followed around by bunnies is adorable and weird, Danny blinking at his bunny herd, “I think bunnies like me”. Tuck pouting, “I want the bunny love”; Danny gives the guy a bunny, it kicks him immediately. Poor Tuck, Danny snickers at him.

Sam walking over with an owl in her arms, the petting zoo lady looking confused in the distance. “You would think bunnies would hate you, since you’re basically a predator”.

“I don’t eat ghosts, Sam”.

Tuck snickering, “You should, get that ecto”.

“Ew! Tucker!”, Sam smacks the geek, “they are sentient beings!”.

“And sentient beings are delicious, my point stands”.

“Blood mouth”.

Danny laughing at the mild argument, laughing until one of the bunnies decides to bite him right in the fucking throat, “augh! ow what the fuck!”, the bunny runs of with a staple in its mouth. “No no no no no no no no, give that back!”. Danny winces and chases after the bunny even with bits of pain shooting up the side of his neck now; it was doing a pretty good job of healing. Was.

It takes ten minutes of him, Sam, and Tuck chasing the bunny for Sam to catch it and get the semi-dissolved severely ecto-contaminated staple out of the bunnies teeth. The bunny is very mad about loosing its prize and immediately starts biting Danny’s shoes. Danny huffing, holding a bit of fabric to his neck to stem the renewed bleeding, asking the petting zoo lady, “what’s that one’s name?”.

“I Eat My Cereal Dry”.

“Well I Eat My Cereal Dry is a dick”.

She laughs at that at least, while the trio continues wandering around the area.

Lindsey thinks that outside of the bitey rabbit and back-butting goat the whole trip turns out pretty good for the three kids. Sure after school let’s out the place basically gets swarmed by Casperhigh students to the point where the place hits max capacity. She’s frankly flabbergasted and vaguely overwhelmed, especially when most of the students are more interested in the kid with the extremely disturbing neck injury that keeps getting harassed by bunnies.

Like… they’re damn near hand feeding the kid more than the animals, giving him head pats and arm pats and back pats; Millie the goat gets jealous and starts trying to get them to stay away from the boy. Adorable but strange.

At least none of them go near the horses or deers.

Thankfully Danny’s able to go home without running into his parents or any ghosts, seemingly Techus or Johnny or Boxy told everyone to fuck off; Technus getting ganged up on was probably a pretty solid warning to most since everyone really only wanted to fight Phantom specifically or cause random chaos, not get assaulted by children with severely brutalised senses of danger.

Zone, he even makes it through the night uninterrupted for a change!

And checking his throat out in the mirror in the morning, moving it around and prodding at the stitching, and scars from all the staples that have since dissolved. It still ached a bit but there’s no actual pain. The steel brackets are definitely still there because Dash went and grabbed thick ass fuckers but all the bolts are gone for sure, so swallowing and physically eating still made a bunch of pressure on his throat; meaning he’s still sticking to phasing food into his stomach instead of chewing shit.

Jazz bangs on the door a little aggressively, Danny sighing as it just pops open, her staring at his neck, “seriously? Are you okay?”.

Danny sighing again for good measure and rolling his eyes at her, “I am now, yes I know the scarring is gnarly, that’s because of a not super great patch job and not because of how bad the injury was”.

Jazz sighs shaking her head, “I saw the chat by the way”, her leaning on the doorframe, “so, everyone knows now, huh?”.

Danny groans exaggeratedly, he’d tilt his head back dramatically if he wasn’t still slightly injured, “just the teens thankfully”, eyeing her, “they're a lot better about ghosts than the towns adults”.

“You mean the Fenton’s”.

“I mean all of the adults, Jazz. Mom and dad… are just the worst of them”.

She hums at him, which he ignores, “are you even bothering to cover it up now?”.

He knows exactly why she’s asking that, he’s in just his standard simple long sleeve that he always wears nowadays meaning that everyone and anyone will be able to see the scars and bits that are still healing. But he grabs up a handkerchief from the counter, “I’m still covering it, just not really caring about whether I draw attention to it or not”. After all, adults generally won’t ask, teenagers definitely would have… if they didn’t all already know what was up.

“I still don’t like it”.

Danny huffing, “it’s not really your scar to like or show off or not, Jazz”. Zone, with this there was almost no point in bothering to hide any of his scaring anymore, but going bare arms might be pushing it right now, considering how severe some of the scaring was. Eh maybe someday, but not today. “It’s not like mom and dad will really notice”. She cringes but he doesn’t really care if she doesn’t like the honesty.

Jazz nods a little, “well I’m off, try to stay in school?”.

Danny waving her off as he’s grabbing up the handkerchief, “yeah yeah yeah, the ghosts have backed off to let me heal a little so I might be able to actually do that”, chuckling, “apparently decapitation is freaky to them. Who knew”. That does get a laugh out of her at least, before she fully leaves.

Danny not too far behind.

…

Sam and Tuck eye the handkerchief and chuckle to themselves. Sam smirking, “nice neck piece, bored of sweaters already?”.

“Pfft, you know how I like to keep things interesting”.

Kwan shouting, “Fenton! How’s your headless doll situation!”.

What? Danny looks to the jock, confused, “what are you even talking about, Kwan?”.

“You know, like that thing where a ladies head is held by a ribbon? Except you’ve got bolts and staples and thread?”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “that green ribbon story? That has nothing to do with dolls man, but it does have to do with dead people and a decapitation, I guess”, and shrugs, pointing to the handkerchief, “ain’t perfect but my heads almost fully reattached, nothing is actively holding anything on anymore”. At Kwan pointing at his own neck and tilting his head, Danny just assumes he’s asking further about his fashion choices, “it’s still healing, man, it looks gnarly”.

Kwan waves that answer off, “pssh, who cares. Scars make men of boys!”.

Danny, vaguely insulted, grabs the bottom of his shirt and yanks it up aggressively, gesturing at his torso and the aggressive amount of scaring there. Including the nasty, repeatedly reopened, and rarely stitched back together right, Y incision. “You sure about that one?”.

Kwan gapes a little, “dude, you are ripped”.

Of course that’s what he cares about, Danny facepalms immediately. Dropping his shirt and sighing, “I’m still not walking around with a fucking barely healed decapitation scar, Kwan”. The guy has the audacity to pout at him.

Then someone yells, “nice neck! You goof!”.

Danny chuckles to himself, everyone in this goddamn town was so fucking weird and he loved them for it.

He really only keeps up with wearing the handkerchief while shits healing and when he knows his folks are gonna be around, every single teen just seemed to think it was cool. He got lots of lanyards with pins to ‘decorate’ the scar, some weird handkerchiefs, Emilie even knitted him an infinity scarf. The one that made him laugh the most, and realise that things definitely were going to be just fine, was him getting mobbed by the art kids sticking temporary tattoos all around and over the scarring; it looked so damn silly seeing one of his gnarliest scars just covered in unicorns and seagulls and stars and an angry goat. Somehow everyone having fun with it and him not being bothered by it kept the adults from ever even trying to ask about it.

End.

PRompts: Tooth-rotting fluff occurs at Casper High after Danny's secret identity is revealed. Identity reveal. Dash finds out Danny is Phantom. What happens? Could be swagger bishie or not, either or is okay. Danny, Sam, and Tucker go to a petting zoo. Danny receives an injury or scar that he can't easily hide in one form, let alone two.

[everchanging-cryptid]

live reacting to The Amazing Digital Circus Pilot because I just realized it came out

it’s all pixelly and then not, neat Ooh, ringmaster’s a fun character, love him

oh, Cain, like the Bible brother maybe?

Time loop?

Lol the flowerpot glitching through the floor

Hostile VR, nice

Haha, no swearing

I would very much like to live in this building

Can relate to Kinger, I too would love to chat with people about an insect collection

The ribbon guy reminds me of Will from the webcomic Nevermore

Blue screening when you need to come up with a list, same

I can’t tell if he’s gonna be a scary character or a funny character, that’s really cool

Why does the moon want to fuck him

Why are you like this

Ooh he’s hiding something yeah

Ok, he does not have control over minds, good to know, and he said “one of the few” so maybe he can’t control other things

Never tell a fae-like entity “I don’t care, just pick anything”

“Whaddya think of: *mouth keysmash*” lol

Pomni, that’s a fun name

“YOU PARASITE!!!” Had me laughing for like 2 minutes straight

Just pop the interrupting people

r u b b e r h o s e a n i m a t i o n b u n n y yeah favorite character material right there

I love how they all just talk over each other but you can still hear what they’re each saying

Assigned “Most Mentally Stable” at mental breakdown

Ooh, I see a bunch of X-ed out faces on the doors, did they get permakilled or something?

The framed artworks make me incredibly happy

Uhoh, Pomni went to the petrified place /reference

Where did you get a centipede???

Ooh that’s not good

he reminds me of a corrupted gem from Steven universe

Ooh that looks painful ouch

Love those broken object physics, beautiful

I love the sense of perspective, when the camera is further back and Pomni looks so isolated

I think Kinger might be the most relatable character tbh

Kaufmo just is not funny is he

God the comedic timing for Jax is PERFECT

RADICAL

Love a good bowling pin joke

Ok I take it back the comedic timing on Kinger is the best I was crying at the perfectly cut scream

Hmm I think poor kiddo Pomni here needs a break to cry

Ooh water cube room I like that

oh that’s terrifying they can just shoot faces at you

Well that’s certainly not Cain

Pfft they rock paper scissors and he won but did the thing anyway

“Oh.” *watches his hands float away*

HIS EYES DID THE CLOCK THING

Can the next person teleported in be a therapist because hot damn have we got some trauma up in here

:o barrel of monkeys! :D

NOOOO THE MONKEYS

Oh door?

Nope nope nope nope nope nope

Oh that’s some backrooms shit right there

Hot damn take a chill pill bro you already got him he’s dead

“This is dumb and weird.” Yeah im gonna quote that forever now thanks

“Ah thank GOD you’re okay, you didn’t experience a game show in there did you?” “Uhhhh… I— What are you talking about?”

Abstracted, like becoming abstract? Becoming just a vague feeling, a mere idea? Ooh that’s some good stuff right there

I too love the sound of a silent moving staircase

Oh this is gonna be fuckin terrifying I see how it is

Musty old computer causes mental breakdown? Interesting

C&A CAIN AND ABEL I FREAKIN CALLED IT YES oh that has some interesting implications now doesn’t it hmm souls trapped in a computer perhaps?

Oh shit it’s the void

I’ll take 5 wacky watches please

ha fourth wall break

oh Pomni is actually broken aren’t they

oh are those all the others who were crossed out

ooh healing spell

Pomni is not okay

analysis on digital eating okay sure

oh that’s an earth shattering ending oh my gosh I feel like I just experienced eldritch enlightenment

Can not wait for more possible episodes! It’s incredible, I highly recommend checking it out! ^^

[arwainian]

Reading This Week 2025 #1

Happy New Year! And so I welcome the first full year in my life that I will not be a student for part of it. This feels very strange. There will be no one setting my reading list for me at all I have complete and total freedom! A bit terrifying. I want to stay committed to continuing to reading theory and literary analysis beyond university, but doing it entirely on my own and with no set schedule or deadlines like a looming thesis is going to be a challenge. Besides that, my reading goals for the year are to read more indie and self-pub, and to maybe set up a proper non-tumblr blog to share long form writing on the books I read, and other stuff for public viewing. we shall see what I come up with and what methods I pick for setting up a website. okay, NOW i'll tell you about what I've read

Finished:

The Night Guest by Taylor Titmouse This was technically read at the very end of last year but it was still during the week I'm covering. I treated myself to a bundle of Taylor Titmouse's erotica and romance works right at the end of the year and will be slowly working through them when I want to read some fantasy erotica. the night guest was pretty fun though I think I genuinely hated the oni guy in it for most of the time. SO irritating in possibly every way. I am glad that the innkeeper milf had fun with him though

Unpainted by Dani Finn I also will be taking a dive into Dani Finn's work, thanks to a nice holiday bundle that got me most (or maybe all?) of their current work. I think this wasn't the best book of theirs for me to start with tho, because I might have felt a bit less lost and a bit more engaged if I started with a different book from this setting. ah well, it was still a mostly pleasant experience even if I have a few structural gripes

Assassin's Fate by Robin Hobb, audiobook narrated by Elliot Hill at long last.... I have read all of the mainline Realm of the Elderlings books. my reaction to this book took up a full page in my reading journal. i will condense it here for brevity. 1) I love Bee with every ounce of my heart which at times made this book very difficult to read. she is the specialest little girl in the world and has suffered more than Jesus Christ himself. I think she should get to kill anyone she wants forever and no one gets to scold her for anything ever. 2) the journey to Clerres was excrutiating, as it could be labelled Fitz's transmisogyny arc. his hatred toward Amber specifically as a way for him to process his hurt feelings and distrust of Beloved was such a nightmare to get through. 3) the ensemble cast in this book is excellent. Love Ash/Spark, Lant, Per, Motley, getting to see the cast of the bingtown and rain wilds books again! all really well rendered, wonderful characters. 4) oh I LOVE the way prophesy and foresight work in ROTE through dreams. prilkop's hand on bee's foot, explaining how he knew the flame in his dream was her.... that nothing happens to her she happens to the world!! fuck yeah

North Continent Ribbon by Ursula Whitcher What a luck find at the library! I had been considering buying it when I fortuitously ran across it in my library's new purchases section. I think my favorite stories are the final two in the book where the Fishercats and the worldbuilding around engines are properly built out. it made the whole setting snap into focus for me. I like the way it approaches questions of what happens if we let AI/computers make decisions that affect peoples lives, what happens when someone gets hurt, who do we blame it on? this setting answers that all along there are exploited people behind those computers, who might be held to account but those at real fault who created the unjust and exploitative system will hide happily behind those disposable lives

[autumnshowell]

who: @autumnshowell where: Hawthorn Park midday.

New Year's Day and she's thirteen days out from having to do it all over again. Hindsight’s twenty-twenty, sure; there is no - or very little - fixing what happened two weeks ago. Every time her mind finds a space of time that isn’t concerned with picking up pieces she’s left beaten to bits on the floor of that basement, she thinks about Amanda Howell, half eaten and rotting ignoble in the dirt.

She’s spent these weeks piecing together broken shards of what she did that night. She remembers things in hazy vague shapes. Trying to act, in her day-to-day, as if nothing has changed. Playing the part of the reasonably distraught, if estranged daughter when the police show up to tell her Amanda's been reported missing. Dutiful driver for AJ, driving where he wants and when he wants. Human being with friends and aspirations and goals. All a bunch of masks that don’ feel like they fit anymore.

Nevermind the question of Aria. Autumn'd made sure enough through word and deed alike that Aria isn’t going to seek her out.

One hand scratches at the side of her head while on the other, a sharp fingernail digs into the wood of a damp picnic table, peeling back a thin ribbon of paint and wood, one of dozens and dozens today alone, hundreds that have been pried loose and blown away by the wind in the past days as she haunts a pavilion at Hawthorn Plaza, eyes traveling between paper pages and the freshly scratched wood and slushy snow that keeps catching orange lamplight as night-time creeps in and lays its embrace on the park. The change has left her different, both in body and mind.

She hears somebody speak, then, looking up and around, and its then she realizes that there’s no scent - no sound of approach - and the voice, it came from all around, and nowhere, all at once.

Turning around and searching for it, she’s taken aback when she looks behind her, only to see a familiar face, sitting there on the other table in the pavilion, as if he isn’t dead.

“Olivier?”

"Yep. That'd be me, poor fucking sod, right?" Even in his ghostly form, he's got a cigarette hanging from his lips and a crooked grin. "I saw you sprouted fur."

His candor marks him as true-to-life, or death, or whatever. She feels she should be terrified at the thought of seeing him sitting there, but terror's set a higher bar these past couple weeks. Maybe this is part of it. Maybe she's insane now. What does it matter alongside everything else?

"Yeah, and it fucking sucked." Autumn follows his direction and turns back to him, looking him up and down, all glitzy and transparent. The way he talks about his death strikes her, and in a way, its comforting to know something like that can still affect her at all. "Yeah I… I saw the photos - they brought me in for questioning and everything. I'm… I'm sorry I didn't check in sooner, or more often. Maybe I could have, I don't know, maybe this wouldn't be so novel."

"You? Pfft. Dumbass. It was that guy I was working with for the short." But he shakes his head. "Nothing you coulda done. So, we got some time. Sing to me, Paolo. I saw shit, but I wanna hear it from you."

"Well, uh. you'll know Tate canned me from the Bowling Alley, said I broke policy. Which… true, kind of. I'm pretty sure I ate him." She flips her hair out of her face. "And like… I almost ate Morgan - I don't know if you ever met her, runs that Arcade that my friend Kevin works at? I almost ate her, too, I think. And like… god. I really, really wish I felt worse about Tate but…" She trails off, because now she's thinking about Aria again, and she has sharp nails digging at the wood again, creaking under strength she still doesn't really get how to manage. "Some of it I feel… really bad about."

"Fuck that guy. That was a case waiting to happen. He deserved to get ate. Glad that the arcade lady didn't get got, though. Dunno if I ever met her.." He flicks the cigarette and the ashes tip off and disappear into nothing in front of both of them. "Wanna get it off your chest?"

She stands from her table, and crosses over to him and sits beside the shade of him, worming her hands out of the sleeves of her borrowed hoodie and jacket, counting on her fingers. "Let's see: Killed and apparently ate my mom, well… not even my mom, just… like that's a whole other thing. Probably caused thousands of dollars's damage to Morgan's Arcade, nearly killed her. And like, most importantly, lost my temper so badly on my girl friend who is probably only still alive because she's already dead." She sighs. “Losing my temper is… probably not the best way to describe it…”

Gesturing with her hand like she's throwing the handful of counted crimes into the wind, she lets out a huff of a sigh. "I literally drive around Port Leiry’s biggest resident Ego and then go mope. And god, he doesn't shut up with the dog jokes, he's insufferable." She scratches at her wrist, sniffs, and maybe its the cold but it's also the sad. "And like, I can't go back to her. I - I almost killed her, Liv. What if she hates me? What if I hurt her again? I can't hypnotize her, just… what, hope she's crazy enough to not run away. I can't make myself do it."

For all his snobbery and shitty attitude, Olivier shuts the fuck up and listens. Because what else is he going to do? Go haunt some asshole who barely knows him? Autumn's the closest thing to - no, the only friend he had. And hell, she needs to get it out and why not play the ghostly mentor? "Sounds like you're torn up." About all of it, really. But he figures, if he was in the same position, then he'd be freaking out, too. And he didn't even get a damn girlfriend before he got killed. "You almost killed your dead girlfrind-- Nice. Uh, have you tried just fuckin' texting her and asking if she wants to talk? Or are ya tuckin' your tail between your legs and hiding?"

Autumn, maybe a bit sheepishly for somebody who has spent at least one night as a giant wolf, pulls her phone out of her hoodie's pouch, looking at its surface, spider-webbed with cracks at this point. She pulls a face at the tail tucking imagery, mean mugging him. "Maybe you're right. It'd get it over with, anyways. I don't want to text though. This whole thing started with texting stupid things at inopportune moments."

"Alright, so - Fucking talk to her. Stop being a little bitch about it." He's slipped back into old ways, but this is how he's always talked to her before he died. "Seriously, A. Get your shit together."

Autumn nods, biting at her bottom lip. "I uh... yeah, if anything, I need to... I need her to know I didn't..." a long sigh breaks the sentence, because its the first time she's voiced it aloud; "... I need to own up to this shit... New year, new me right? No more... running from things that I can fix." She smiles - a small, flickering thing that isn't at all set or safe. "I'm... glad I'm having this vision or dream or... whatever, I'm glad we get to at least say good-" Turning to look up to him, he's gone, and she's alone there in the quiet morning. "Goodbye." === written with: @photoaria

[xx-crystalshards-xx]

[Item successfully loaded in]

Once he knew he was far enough out of earshot, Caclifer would hit the side of his head with his cane. Not each to cause any damage, but enough to attempt to knock some sense back in to him

“Damnit… damnit, damnit, damnit, damnit damnit DAMNIT! Whot the FUCK was that Calcifer?! 'Oh yeah sure let me give her a kiss on the knuckles to try and test the wat'ers to see if she likes me even though she has told me several times she's only seen me as a friend.'"

He groans a bit as he rubs his eye

" 'm going daft without even havin' a drink..."

He groans again, though this time it sounds more like a wimper. Like he's somewhere in between crying and losing his mind - which in this instance he definitely was.

"Just needta...sleep whatever the fucks goin' on with me off...yeah. that's what I need."

He continues the rest of the way back to the arena silently, mentally reassuring himself that all he needs is sleep.

. . .

Dark, cold, lifeless. The building is practically the exact opposite of how Cosmia's shop was set up. Maybe a few decorations wouldn't hurt next year.

He opens the door and the smell of something tart hits him immediately, the smell permeating throughout the building. Holly? Mistletoe? Whatever it was it was unexpected...and made him dizzy and nauseous. It smelled so familiar yet so...different. Nothing like the general cheerful smells the circus contained.

Wrong. It smelled wrong. He didn't leave the arena like this. It never smelled like this before. Why the fuck did--

His eyes landed on a wine bottle, sitting pristinely on the countertop of the welcome desk.

Another break-in another gift perfect.

He set down his other gift and hesitantly went over, picking up the bottle. Immediately a sense that he's seen this bottle- hell even held it before washes over him.

Cranberry Wine.

As he reads it he clicks his tongue, the sensation of red wine on his tongue appearing again, this time with more force. He's had this before. He has never seen the bottle in his life but he's more than certain he's had this before. Poured by hands that were not his own, yet drunk with a smile on his face.

His heart started racing in fear, though he couldn't put the bottle down. He turns the bottle, reading the tag that was attached to the neck of it with pieces of red and green ribbon

'~ Merry Christmas C ~'

Nothing else. No other explanation. Another gift without a sender.

To say he was terrified would be an understatement.

Just...open the windows to get rid of the smell and go to bed.

Yeah.

That sounded like a perfect idea.

[libraryofgage]

I know it's not the WIP Wednesday yet, but it is my birthday, so I'm gonna share the complete first chapter of Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins for your reading pleasure lmao:

"Now, Steve, you know we support you. Your father and I didn't bat an eye when you came out, and we look forward to meeting whichever nice young boy or girl you bring home. But, dear, violence is never the answer."

The words go in one ear and right out the other as Steve watches buildings rush by outside the window. He’d slip on the headphones around his neck, but Steve knows he at least owes his parents the courtesy of naked ears after they bailed him out. Really, he just wants to take a shower and change into clean clothes after spending a night in jail surrounded by equally sweaty and beat up parade-goers. Don’t get him wrong; the people were great, but the smell was atrocious. He lets his head fall against the window, eyes shutting as he breathes through a bruised rib, split lip, and swollen eye. 

"Steve, are you listening to your mother?"

"Yeah, violence bad," he mumbles, just loud enough to be heard in the otherwise silent car. At this point, he’d even prefer the stadium country that usually plays when his dad drives. 

He wishes he were back in the jail cell, swapping stories with the others who got arrested for fighting homophobic protestors, who started it, by the way. He knows his parents are disappointed in him for fighting (and, even worse, getting caught and potentially causing An Incident for them), but he felt genuinely happy sitting on the concerningly sticky floor in that cell. Even if he could go back to yesterday, he wouldn't change a damn thing after seeing three poor kids surrounded by people shouting the most vile things. 

They had looked terrified, tears crowding in their eyes as they clutched at each other, and Steve had seen red. It was a fucking pride parade, a place where kids should feel comfortable being themselves and seeing themselves in the smiling, laughing faces of strangers whose mere existence proves they’re not alone and they’ll survive. But they were being harassed by people with nothing better to do than let hate shrivel their hearts.

Steve, thankfully, hadn’t been the only one who’d seen red. He’d locked eyes with someone who had top surgery scars and a sash across their chest that read “Queer” in sparkling, rainbow letters. Next to them was a shorter woman with close-cropped hair and a flannel shirt (how she wasn’t dying in the heat, Steve will never know) with a white t-shirt underneath that had “Resting Butch Face" emblazoned across the front. The three of them had shared a nod and marched over to the kids.

He later learned that the person wearing the sash was named Daze (“They/them pronouns, unless it’s comedically appropriate to use something else,” they’d said in the jail cell, winking playfully at Steve). The butch went by Mar; she’d excitedly told Steve in the jail cell how her girlfriend would bust her out only to laugh her ass off when said girlfriend was shoved in by two cops not a second later.

What had followed the nod was Mar and Steve standing in front of the kids, creating an unmoving shield while Daze quickly gathered them close. They smiled at the three, quietly complimenting one’s rainbow hair ribbon while Steve tried to be the voice of reason (he shouldn’t have bothered, but he’s still got a little optimism inside).

The first punch was thrown by the ringleader of the protestors after Mar not-so-subtly implied that maybe he’d rather be partying with them and getting his tongue down some cute twink’s throat instead of holding signs and shouting. She’d taken the punch like a champ, and Steve’s grin mirrored hers when the wonderful, incredible term “self-defense” suddenly became applicable. 

Daze had gotten the kids out of there, keeping them calm even as more people joined in the fight, turning the little skirmish into an all out brawl. It had lasted five glorious minutes before cops finally broke it up, forcing protestors and pride-goers into cars together in zip ties. They had realized that was a bad idea when a drag queen headbutted a protestor for what he called her.

After a night in jail, bonding with his cellmates and writing down numbers with some femme’s spare lipstick on the back of a flier from an AT&T booth, his parents had arrived to bail him out. Steve had taken one look at them, at their business clothes and designer watches and worried, beyond confused expressions, and almost said he’d rather just stay behind bars for now. 

Instead, he convinced his parents to post bail for a few of his new friends, waved off their gratitude (they’d been through battle together, after all), and followed his parents out to the car after a few hugs and promises to make a group chat so they could hang out later. 

“You’re just lucky no charges were filed,” his father says, pulling Steve from his thoughts. 

He sighs, slumping down in his seat. A few seconds pass before Steve admits, “I’d do it again.” It’s the truth; he wouldn’t fucking hesitate to throw himself into the fray again. He doesn’t even know those kids’ names, but he knows they deserve more than being afraid of who they are and the monsters that masquerade in human skin around them. 

His parents glance at each other, a thousand words spoken in the brief moment of eye contact. “Steve, are you…okay?” his mother asks, her words hesitant. “I mean, you can tell us anything, dear, and we’ll do anything to make you feel better.”

Steve bites his tongue, refusing to ask how they’d manage that when they’re barely fucking home in the first place. They have a whole multi-million dollar company to run, so he gets it. They have to travel a lot, and they used to bring him along until just dropping him in Indianapolis sophomore year of high school (right after coming out to them, which he understood but was still hurt by) to have a “more grounded high school experience." Somehow worst of all, they try to make up for it with extravagant gifts and awkward conversations about whether he’s still gay or if he’s decided to be straight for the day.

They’ve yet to fully understand the concept of bisexuality, but this is far better than being kicked out of his home.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Steve says. Because he is. He’s just…tired. 

He’s tired of feeling alone in Indianapolis despite being surrounded by people. He had tried making friends, but everyone is so fucking awkward in 10th grade anyway, and the best Steve could do was embrace the “new rich kid” persona people created for him. He’d soon gained the nickname King Steve, which had only worked to make him feel like he’d somehow done something wrong in living up to their expectations. The closest he’s gotten to feeling like himself, to feeling accepted and embraced, was in that fucking jail cell.

Even worse, Steve is tired of this ache that tugs at the base of his spine and the pit of his heart like he’d find something that’s missing if only he’d just follow the pull. 

He doesn’t know how to explain any of that, though, so Steve just sighs again and says, “Maybe…maybe I could do with some down time. Like, a gap year before college or something. I think I just need some time to figure myself out a little more and decide what I want to do with my life before jumping right back into school. Does…does that make sense?”

“Yeah, Steve, it makes a lot of sense,” his father says, flashing him a tiny smile through the rearview mirror. “So, where do you want to go? Hawaii? Miami? Venice is nice this time of year.”

Steve can’t help a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Nah, nothing like that. I think small town vibes are more what I’m going for here.”

His father just hums quietly, sharing another one of those looks with Steve’s mom. He misses this one, but he’d probably be suspicious of them if he hadn’t. He would have known immediately that they were about to do something absolutely ridiculous but well-meaning but so clearly telling of their ignorance when it comes to how people who aren’t wealthy approach problems.

But he doesn’t see, so he doesn’t know.

And when he looks back on this moment a few months later, after the absolute ride of his fucking life, Steve will think it’s a good thing he didn’t notice. If he had, he’d have said something, and then he’d have missed out on all the fun.

[lolotheparagon]

What are the various Rogues' opinions on Scarecrow's new daughters minions?

Riddler:

I know I’m the best supervillain Gotham has ever seen, but I always had a humble respect for Crane. The man has elicited terror and fear thoroughout Gotham for many years and is a profilic terrorist and scientist. So it baffles the mind that he has taken upon himself to be a parent, oh wait I mean (snickers) boss to a bunch of tiny pastel ponies so he can scare the whole populace. It’s almost comical how stupid that plan is. Oh sure, the average Neanderthal slumping around the streets would be scared of these sickeningly cute critters. But that’ll wear off soon enough and you don’t see Two-Face or Harley Quinn afraid of them! What will be your plan next? Face it, Crane. You just want to play house with these ponies because you’re so desperate to have a goal in your life, you’ve resorted to parenthood like a lonely housewife in a loveless marriage. Pathetic!…What? What do I think of the ponies themselves? What’s there to talk about? They’re annoying, disgustingly cute and clearly lack any intelligence whatsoever! They’re also relentless, whenever Crane’s not around, they always force me to partake in their juvenile games. Do I look like a babysitter to you?!

Penguin:

Don’t remind me of those little bastards. When I found out that the Scarecrow himself had employed these tiny ponies to be his minions, I was laughing for days. Look at ‘em, you’d think you can easily just kick those little tykes to the curb, swot ‘em like a fly. But no, not only are they immune to bullets, they took down half my men, tied me up in ribbons, put bloody makeup on me and turned my club into a BLOODY ICE RINK!! Ohhh, you think you’ve won this battle, Crane. Think you’ve humiliated me. But mark my words, once your back is turned and your mind focused on the Bat again, I’ll take your little ponies and put ‘em in a glue factory!

Two-Face:

Oh yeah, those little…things. (Shudders) Their cuteness is so overwhelming they creep me out NEXT WE SEE ‘EM, WE SHOOT THOSE CRITTERS AND SMEAR THEM ALL OVER THE WALLS. You’re just pissed off cos they did our makeup. THOSE LITTLE BITCHES DREW ALL OVER OUR FACE I know we look stupid but you don’t see me raging about it SHUT UP, HARV! NO ONE WILL TAKE US SERIOUSLY WHEN WE GO ON CRIME SPREES WITH THIS SHIT PLASTERED ON! No one took us seriously anyway. WE’RE MEN! MEN DONT WEAR MAKEUP!! WHAT ARE YOU, GAY?! …I really need therapy.

Poison Ivy:

Those ponies are herbivores, nature is part of their diet. Normally, I would be against them but I just can’t say no to kids. These little ones have an unspoiled innocence that I hope their time in Gotham would never taint it. I feel almost sorry for them. Crane is a smart man, but he is cold and ruthless, not exactly father of the year material. But it is rather amusing to see himself run ragged trying to keep a bunch of ponies in order. Especially that unicorn following him around like a puppy. He’s stuck with all of them for eternity so I can’t wait to see how this will unfold. My bet is that he’ll have a mental breakdown within a few months. And I’ll have front row seats.

Harley Quinn:

What?! Dr Crane has magical ponies as his kids?!. Oh my god, that’s hysterical!! Wow, I mean, I know the Bat beat you pretty bad and you’re out of ideas, but that is a whole new level of desperate! Whats next year’s Halloween’s plan, he’s gonna sic Starbright Sprinkle and Princesscake on us? Ohhh, I’m so scared! But ya know what, good for him for finding a new career that suits him: a fucking loser! By the way, which ranch did he get those ponies from? Cos I want one! In fact, Crane, can I have the pink one? No, wait, I’ll trade ya for the flying fairy one!

Catwoman:

I always see the little guys running around at the mall, playing dress up and terrifying thugs with their mere existence. Its funny to see a bunch of grown men terrified at something so cute. Honestly, I have no idea why Crane of all people is in custody of these ponies. To see the master of fear being a dad and a decent one to boot is…weird. I don’t know if he’s just putting it on to regain some scare factor or if he’s genuinely enjoying it, but at least the ponies seem happy. However, if he does put any of those kids in danger, I’ll tear his stitched ass apart.

Killer Croc:

Doesn’t matter, they’re all just food to me. Those little things don’t scare me. Nothing scares me. Not even, you, Crane.

Mr Freeze:

He has what? That is…concerning. I do hope those little ponies are treated properly. Are they well-fed? Do they have proper education? He doesn’t experiment on them, does he? No? Oh thank goodness. Well, are their mental and emotional needs met? Does he spend quality time with them? …Sorry, I have a few arctic hares that I keep as pets that I’ve grown very attached to over the last month. They’re like children to me. So I just hope Crane is taking the responsibilities of parenting seriously.

[thedawnjester]

I made a Welcome Home/Undertale AU while I was high, and I can't get it out of my head. I've decided to call it Welcome Tale, and it's an AU where the Welcome Home cast are monsters in the Undertale world. They still look and act the same, though. They just have those cool attacks and stuff, lmao. (I'm still high while writing this, I'm sorry.)

Anyways, in this AU, Home basically creates this pocket dimension for Wally and the gang to protect them from the human vs. monster war because Home is just that powerful. We love you, Home! <3 (Home actually terrifies me outside of this AU, lol.) So, anyways, Home makes that pocket dimension, and it works for many years to keep Wally and the neighbors safe.

Until one day, somehow, Wally slips through the dimension and wakes up in, you guessed it, the underground! (*trumpet noises*) And, of course, Home is like, 'Ayo, what the fuck?' and tries to get him back immediately. But something (Gaster) gets in the way, and instead of Home getting Wally back, Home gets Frisk (that's right, baby, we're doing a swap). So now, Frisk is stuck in the pocket dimension, and Wally is now stuck in the underground. The whole AU revolves around that.

I might try to explain more later when I'm not high, lmao, but for now, I'll leave some facts that my brain won't leave me alone about.

- ok so I obviously think Wally is gonna be reminded of Poppy when he meets Toriel and vice versa with Frisk when they meet Poppy

- speaking of Frisk and Poppy Frisk definitely stays with Poppy while they’re in the pocket dimension cause Frisk was not comfortable living in well a living house (sorry Home) anyways Poppy adopting Frisk real

- Sans definitely reminds Wally of Barnaby so he tends to hang out with him a lot Papyrus tends to tag along

- speaking of which I like the idea of Papyrus seeing Wally for the first time and turning to Sans like “IS THAT A HUMAN?!” and Sans just sits there like “I…I don’t know”

- Wally likes talking to Flowey

-Flowey doesn’t like talking to Wally (he finds it frustrating)

- Frisk and Wally are wearing each other’s shirts cause I said so also instead of the ascot Wally wears the Faded Ribbon around his neck like a cute bow

- I think Home would try to hide the fact Wally is missing for awhile but it couldn’t do much to stop the neighbors from seeing Frisk since Home couldn’t just lock Frisk up that’s just be rude! (looks at all the angst stuff of Home locking Wally up)

- it actually doesn’t take long for the Neighbors to notice Wally is missing Barnaby is definitely the first to find out noticing how weird Home was acting whenever he asked about him

- until Frisk tells them the Neighbors think the Human vs Monster war is still going on and Immediately start to panic upon finding out Wally slipped out of their Pocket Dimension (I’m not saying they thought he was dead but….I’m saying they thought he was dead lol)

- they actually couldn’t be sure if Wally was ok or not though cause well they have no way to contact him but Frisk tries to assure them that Wally was probably with Frisk’s friends so the neighbors hold on to that hope some not actually believing it (gotta have some angst am I right?)

- Frisk has a good time playing games and hanging with the neighbors but they really miss their friends and want to get back so they can help them get rid of the barrier

- oh yeah so basically in this au Frisk was doing the pacifist run ya know but they hadn’t gotten to Asgore yet before they got swapped with Wally so the barrier is still up

- Toriel definitely thought Wally was a child at first he politely corrected her when she did

- Wally definitely needed help with the ruin puzzles luckily Toriel is very patient with him

- Wally stays with Toriel for awhile before convincing her to come with him and leave the ruins (don’t ask me how he’s a very convincing little man how else do you think he got all these people hyperfixating on him?)

- Toriel is very over protective of Wally she’s very worried he’s gonna get hurt due to how passive he is

- Flowey is the only person to know Frisk is gone Flowey was the only person around when they got swapped after all everyone else is completely clueless

Ok that’s it for now this post is probably very messy (Edit: I tried to fix it a bit lol) I’m sorry lmao if you have any questions I’ll be happy to answer idk if I’ll make art for this au cause I’m not very good at drawing haha but I might try!

[flamingbluepanda]

Alicia my love please let’s talk more about tongue piercing Mickey!!! You can’t bring it up and not share more thoughts!

Oh my god okay so last night I was thinking a LOT about Mickey experimenting with gender like!! There's so many things he always wanted to do and explore!! He always wanted to dye his hair and get piercings and the tongue piercing was his first drunken foray into "fuck it, Im gonna do what I damn well please"

Ian 100% goes with him to get the tongue piercing put back in, and Mickey gets his right ear pierced on the same day -- it hurts way less.

A few weeks later, Mickey gives in to Franny's longest standing request and let's her paint his nails. Next comes a little eyebrow piercing, then some highlights to his hair. He paints his nails a dark red instead of black. He gets his other ear pierced. He changes his tongue stud for something else. He lets his hair grow long enough for a lil ponytail.

One day, months into Mickey trying new things, Ian comes home to find Mickey locked in the bathroom.

He frowns, knocks gently. "you okay?"

"yeah," a beat, "no. I mean, yeah, I'm fine, but... I did something."

"... Something bad?"

"maybe?"

"okay," Ian says. "Do you wanna tell me?"

"... I wanna show you, but you have to swear not to laugh or tell anyone."

"I promise," Ian says quizzically, confused because he didn't laugh when Mickey got a plug stuck in his ass, they're past laughing at eachother in inopportune moments-

Mickey opens the door.

The dress is black, with lacy cap sleeves and the bottom flares out around Mickey's knees. There's a white ribbon around the waist that's clearly meant to be tied, but it's hanging at the sides. There are some shiny sequens on the chest.

Mickey looks utterly terrified.

"you," Ian says after a long moment, low and serious, "are the most handsome, beautiful person I have ever seen."

Maybe Mickey never wears them outta the house, maybe he uses they/them pronouns for a bit, maybe he buys more dresses.

It's new, it's different, and it's him, fully.