She/her Fairly new to the spn fandom I was dared to make a account by some of my lunch buddies Destiel and sabriel shipperI also enjoy Lucifer, marvel , mha, demon slayer, etcHave a good day
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AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
I fuckin love this series! Can’t eait for both more art for it and more chapters!
Hello!!! This is some fan-art of jaemyun's DPxDC fic Who You Gonna Call?
I don't have much to say, this fic is amazing. I really liked Phantom's design in it, so here we are! I tried to incorporate some of the uncanny-ness of the guy's long arms, and I imagine him being pretty spindly? I also threw some minor head-cannons in there.
The sketches at the end are some visual concepts of Danny, Tucker, and Sam. Definitely gonna rework Sam's design if I have time between college stuff, I don't think the way it is now really looks like her.
Anyway, I am a firm believer in tall Danny(at the very least), that boy is the son of a brick building of a man. Also, I tried to incorporate a little bit of Dan-ness in his face, just because I think it would be inevitable for him not to share some resemblance as he gets older, which is my reasoning for him looking the way he does.
Either way, both Sam & Danny are probably gonna get re-vamped if I end up drawing their Gala outfits from chapter 8. Tucker will probably not, I like how his face turned out.
Blah! Whatever :D! Go read jaemyun's fic, it's amazing! Their characterization is bonkers-over-yonkers insanely good, I cannot state this enough!
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For safe keeping inside of my reblogs!
Great art!
Hello and welcome to the start of my Danny Phantom rewrite I'm calling Danny Phantom: Revived
This is not going to be a quick thing and I won't have a set schedule for updates as we all have to make that bag. bleh. That being said, I'm super excited to finally start sharing this project :)
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This is a work of art! Saving it to read again later in my reblogs
chromatophore
@jackdaw-sprite
For Dannymay 2025, day 6: transformation. I'm late!
.
The ribbons were the first sign, a vibrant magenta against the dark greens, snowy whites, and subtle blues. It wasn’t a color often seen in the Far Frozen, even if it was common among other polychromatic denizens of the Ghost Zone. There were hundreds of them, tied together in huge, arcing loops.
The sight made Danny pull up short.
“What is it?” asked Tucker over the Fenton Phones. They liked to come with him to his check-ups. They seemed to think that if they didn’t, he’d skip his appointments.
(Just because he missed one–)
“I don’t know,” said Danny. “There’s something about the color magenta in the Far Frozen, but I can’t remember exactly what…”
“Can you remember approximately what?” asked Sam, also in the Specter Speeder.
Danny hummed uncertainly. “I know that doors colored magenta are dangerous, and Frostbite told me not to go through them,” he said, finally. “But this is a lot more than coloring a door magenta. I don’t know if it means something different.”
“Great One!”
Danny rotated around the axis of his navel to see a yeti approaching. That was odd. They usually didn’t meet him this far out. Not after the first couple times, anyway.
“Hi!” he called, waving. “What are all the ribbons for?”
“Stay there!” shouted the yeti. “I will come to you!”
Danny nodded, then relayed the yeti’s words to Sam and Tucker, who couldn’t hear him from inside the Speeder.
“Great One,” said the yeti, by way of greeting, once he got closer. “My apologies. We knew you would come soon, but we did not know from which direction, so I was set to watch.”
“Icespear,” said Danny, now recognizing the yeti. He was one of the Far Frozen’s warriors, and one of the only ones who would still watch when Frostbite was training Danny in the arena. “What’s wrong? Why is all this stuff here?” Danny gestured at the ribbons.
Now, while he would like Icespear to tell him that it was all in preparation for a festival or something similar, Danny sincerely doubted that was the case.
“The Far Frozen is under quarantine,” said Icespear, tiredly. “Two weeks ago, one of our merchants caught the white death, and it has since spread rapidly through the village.”
“The white death?” asked Danny, alarmed. “That sounds bad.”
“It is,” agreed Icespear, “though it is not quite as dire as you imagine. Many ghost illnesses have the word ‘death’ or something similar in them.”
That… sounded like something ghosts would do, honestly.
“I guess my appointment is canceled, then,” joked Danny. His smile felt weak on his face and quickly fell off. “How bad is it?”
Icespear’s muzzle twitched up, exposing teeth. “Bad. For most, even if they were willing to break the quarantine, they couldn’t. The white death lowers core temperature. Some of the worst off are freezing solid.”
“Is there anything I can do? I mean, I’m not a doctor or anything, but if there’s something I can get you… Aspirin? Antibiotics? Cough syrup?”
If it came to it, Danny would be… Well, saying he’d be okay with robbing a pharmacy was vastly overstating things, but if it meant the difference between someone in the Far Frozen surviving or fading, he’d do it.
“Yes. In fact, I have a letter for you from Chief Frostbite. If you will read it, I can answer any questions you have.”
Icespear reached into the sash that held his kilt-like garment in place, and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Danny. Danny slid his thumb under Frostbite’s blue ice seal and opened the letter, drifting back towards the speeder so Sam and Tucker could try to read over his shoulder.
“He wants me to try and get this plant, then?” asked Danny. “It’s a cure?”
Icespear shook his head. “Nothing quite so miraculous. It is only an ingredient, but we have all the others. It is only that moly tinctoria is the most difficult of the ingredients to get, since the Painters consider it sacred.”
Danny nodded. People were always weird about sacred things. “So, how do I get it from them?” He scrunched up his nose. “They probably won’t sell it for anything within my budget, so am I going to have to fight them for it?” That felt worse than knocking over a pharmacy. Pharmacies had insurance and stuff. Sacred stuff usually couldn’t be easily replaced.
“Oh, no,” said Icespear. “No, we’d prefer to have good relations with them. When we tell them what it will be used for, they will be willing to let us harvest it. However…” Icespear sighed. “They require that anyone who is to touch their sacred herb undergoes a purification ritual, and we yetis are unable to do it.”
Danny frowned. “Why?”
“We have fur,” said Icespear with a shrug. “Their paints do not stick to us very well, and when we do, the shape of the brushstrokes is warped.”
“That sounds sort of… discriminatory?” said Danny, making a face.
Icespear shrugged again. “They have always been willing to let us try. It just doesn’t work very well, and each person can only do it once. And, I understand that the rite is important for practical reasons as well as spiritual ones. They are often identical here, in the Infinite Realms.”
“What happens if you don’t do the ritual?”
”I fear I do not know,” said Icespear. “But the Painters are very insistent on it.”
“Okay,” said Danny, re-reading Frostbite’s letter. The shakiness of the writing showed that Frostbite wasn’t feeling well, himself. “Sam, Tucker, do you want to do this, or should I take you guys home first?”
“We’re sticking with you,” said Sam, obviously unamused.
“Okay, okay,” said Danny. “I was just asking. This is probably going to take longer than my appointment, after all. I don’t even know which way to go…?” He looked up at Icespear questioningly.
“That is one reason I am coming with you,” said Icespear, “and why I have this.” He pulled out the Infi-map.
“Wow,” said Danny, reaching towards it. “I thought it was locked away, after, um, the incident.”
“It would be the height of foolishness to have something like this and not use it in our hour of need,” said Icespear, twitching the scroll away from Danny’s outstretched hand. “You are still banned from using it, however. I will be directing us.”
Danny let his hand drop, disappointed. The Infi-map was still one of the coolest ghost artifacts he’d encountered. “What are the other reasons you’re coming with us?”
“Security,” said Icespear, “and to make sure everything goes smoothly. There have been disruptions in the past. Thefts, mostly. The plant is a valuable one, as well as being sacred.”
“Well… Do you guys have any questions?” He turned slightly towards the Speeder, inviting Tucker and Sam to weigh in.
“What’s in the ritual?” asked Sam. “That seems important.”
“I’m not as familiar with it as some,” admitted Icespear. “I was chosen mainly for my good health and fighting ability, given that I will be carrying the Infi-map outside our borders. But it is my understanding that the main portions of it are ritual body paint, a bath, removing the paint, and incense. It is not a physically taxing ritual, merely difficult for us.”
“Alright, then,” said Sam. “I just wanted to make sure that it didn’t involve cutting off a finger or human sacrifice or something.”
“Sam! These guys are our friends. Our allies.”
“Lady Sam is wise to be cautious,” said Icespear. “Many otherwise innocuous rites and customs could be dangerous to you, Great One.”
Danny made a face. “But nothing in this one, right?”
“Not that I know of,” said Icespear.
“Great,” said Danny. “Let’s go.”
.
In a typical example of how ghosts liked to theme themselves, the entrance to the Painter’s Realm looked like an art gallery. If an art gallery had decided to turn itself into an avant-garde piece of artwork itself, splashing multicolored and in some cases eye-searing paints all over the front, then painting over that with layered dots and curlicues.
Icespear went in right away, through the glass door, to negotiate with the Painters. Danny stayed outside, for the moment, to help Sam and Tucker land the Speeder on the thin strip of land in front of the building.
“Do you think those are supposed to be nazars?” asked Sam, climbing out of the cockpit and pointing at the nearest wall.
“Do I think what is what?”
“Nazars. You remember, the eye beads.”
Danny looked at the wall, and he could see what she was saying. The dots on the wall were concentric, solid circles of dark blue, light blue, black, white, and ghost green, in no particular order.
“I don’t know,” said Danny. “They do look sort of similar.”
Icespear returned and motioned them inside. Standing next to the largest painting inside, a big, abstract one, was a thin ghost whose haircut made her look like a paintbrush, which was probably the point.
“Who is it that wants to harvest?” she asked, frowning at the three of them.
“Me,” said Danny, raising his hand.
She looked him up and down. “To complete the ritual, you will come to the deepest of our depths, where we will paint you. Then, you will go to the chamber of cleansing, where you will be sealed while you bathe to remove our paints. When you finish, we will judge your work, and if it is satisfactory, we will allow you to harvest what is necessary.”
Danny nodded. “That seems pretty easy,” he said. “I mean, I got the impression that some parts were tricky.”
The ghost nodded. “Some would say so, but occasionally, it is the simplest things that are the most difficult.” She looked at Sam and Tucker. “You are welcome to observe, like Icespear, but you must not interrupt the cleansing, or else the Far Frozen will have to seek out a new proxy.”
“Got it,” said Tucker, while Sam nodded.
“Very good. I have sent word ahead to our best artists, and they will meet us there. Follow me.” She looked at Tucker's PDA, and added, “No photography.”
As Tucker sulkily put away his PDA, the ghost flew briskly into the gallery, somehow looking even more like a paintbrush with her legs pressed together and her toes pointed.
As they followed her, the gallery became… older. At first, it was just that the exact nature of fittings on the walls began to look more old fashioned. Then, the style of the paintings shifted. Cigarette smoke permeated the air for a short time, then dissipated. The walls changed, too, first just in the texture of paint, then in substance and decoration, the moulding going from minimalistic to a work of art in its own right. But that passed, too, and soon those palace-like walls became castle-like, illuminated by torches, then simpler, cruder, paintings losing perspective, then briefly regaining it in plaster painted directly on the walls. They continued, and eventually, they were walking down a bare stone tunnel, the paintings on the walls lit only by the ghosts’ own glow.
This tunnel opened into a larger cave. There were people there, ghosts, all of them dressed in white artist smocks, with paintbrushes in their pockets. A stream, a tiny trickle of water, ran through the room, starting as a waterfall high on the cave wall, near the entrance, and running out an exit on the opposite side.
One of the white-robed ghosts stepped forward. “You wish to be cleansed, so that you may harvest our sacred herb?”
Danny flinched slightly at the word ‘wish’ (you never knew when Desiree might be around) but said, “Yes. Um, is there something special I need to say, or–?”
A younger-looking ghost with purple paintbrush pigtails giggled. “It's not that kind of ritual,” she said. “The one where people talk a lot and everyone has to say exactly the right thing.”
“Oh,” said Danny, “okay.”
“But we do need your consent,” said the other ghost, “because you'll need to strip.”
“So you can paint me, right,” said Danny. He considered the chilly temperature of the room, then the number of painters that were girls, and decided this would be unpleasant. He looked over at Sam.
“What?” she said.
Danny raised his eyebrows.
“Are you serious? I’ve seen you naked before.”
Everyone had seen Danny naked before, courtesy of Vlad. Yeah, Danny had done that first, but Vlad had started it. Sort of.
Sam rolled her eyes and turned away from Danny, crossing her arms as she did so. “Are you going to make everyone else turn around, too?”
“Um,” said Danny, looking at the ghosts. There were a lot of
“That won’t work, I’m afraid,” said the ghost that seemed to be the leader.
Danny sighed. “Okay,” he said. He started unzipping his suit.
“I’ll leave it to you,” then, said the thin, suited… receptionist? She left, flying back towards the more modern part of the Painters’ Realm.
Danny rolled his suit off his body, the plasticy fabric sticking to itself before dissipating into gaseous ectoplasm, and took off the clothing beneath it. “It’s okay that I stay in ghost form, right?”
“You should,” said Icespear.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cold in here,” said Tucker. “Stay ghosty, stay toasty.”
“I’m colder as a ghost, you know,” said Danny, amused, even as he took off his undershirt and underwear. It was cold, but nowhere near as cold as the Far Frozen. The main discomfort was the dampness and the breeze. And, of course, the star-shaped death scar in the middle of his chest.
Sometimes, he forgot it was there. He never saw it, after all. He rarely needed to take off his clothes in ghost form.
“Yeah, exactly,” said Tucker.
While Danny undressed, the Painters started their preparations. About half of them had mortar and pestles, and the other half pulled dried plants, rocks, little colorful pucks, and other things Danny couldn’t immediately identify. They crushed them, turning them into fine powders, then passed those powders on. Some of them were, to Danny’s surprise, set on fire, making plumes of fragrant smoke. Others were mixed with water, turning them into paints and inks. Danny saw blue, green, white, black.
The painters nudged him into the center of the room, to stand ankle-deep in the small stream. Bowls of eye-stinging incense were passed under his nose, then arranged in a rough circle around him. Then, the Painters approached with their paintbrushes, circled Danny once, clockwise, then stepped forward, past the bowls of incense.
Danny felt the brushstrokes in cold wet lines against his skin and tried not to feel apprehension. Yes, he had volunteered for this, of course, but it was still unnerving, making him feel vulnerable, even though he had access to all the powers he usually had. There was a sense of disorientation, too, as the room filled with smoke and frigid water swirled around Danny’s ankles. It made his skin feel tight, electric.
At first, each brushstroke made his skin flinch, but he grew used to them, and as he learned to be more still, the Painters started to do more detailed work, layering the initial blobby shapes with finer, smaller ones. He felt dots, spots, curlicues. They were building up patterns, paint on top of ink, like the ones on the walls outside, the ones that Sam said looked like nazars. On his skin, Danny thought they looked more like the spots on a leopard, or an octopus.
The pigtailed Painter bounced up in front of him, her mortar of paint in hand, grinned, and painted a stripe across his nose, pausing to make the ends wider than the middle. The ghosts that followed her added to her work, emboldened. Danny got what felt like artificial blush stickers and a series of improbable freckles.
The paint smelled. Not badly, exactly, but strongly, dancing on the edge of unpleasantness. For some reason, it made his mouth water, and he had to swallow.
Some Painters knelt to paint layered rings around his fingers. One lifted one of his feet after another to paint his soles and toes, even though he had to put them back down in the water a moment later.
But what they didn’t touch was his death scar. They avoided it, outlined
Between the layered spots of paint and the scars, his skin was still visible, but it seemed oddly colorless in contrast, like it had borrowed some conceptual quality of invisibility without actually being invisible. Combined with the tingly, too-tight, too-dry, almost too-hot feeling, and the sensation of the paint drying, it made Danny feel like he wasn’t supposed to be in his skin.
Then, all at once, the Painters stepped back.
“You must now enter the chamber of cleansing,” said the leader. “We will seal the way behind you, and you will not be able to leave until you have removed all the paint from yourself, or failed to do so entirely. Your friends will not be able to come with you. Do you understand?”
“I won’t be able to leave until I’m clean,” said Danny. “Or until I really screw things up, somehow.”
“Close enough,” said the Painter. They gestured to the other opening in the cave wall, the one that the stream flowed into.
Danny glanced back at Sam and Tucker. Tucker gave him a thumbs up. Sam’s back was still turned, but she must have sensed his eyes on her, because she waved her hand at him. “Good luck,” she said.
“Thanks,” he said, before walking towards the exit. Around him, the Painters picked up the bowls of incense, then set their remaining paint on fire. The act made him pause, but they just lined up behind him, so he shrugged and continued.
He wanted to scrub the paint off. It was making his skin feel itchy and weird.
Walking down the stream, however, proved strangely difficult. He stumbled over small rocks and his own feet, swaying into the close walls every so often, but flying seemed improper, and probably not all that much better, with how narrow the tunnel was.
Soon, the tunnel ended in a small, bulbous cave with walls worn smooth and round, like a bubble of stone. There were niches carved high on the walls, and the Painters put their burning bowls of incense and paint in them - or did the paint count as incense, now that they were burning it? Danny wasn’t sure. The smoke they produced was colored, too, although not always the same color as the paint.
Otherwise, the room was full of water, its floor completely covered. When Danny went to stand in the middle, it came up to his waist.
One of the Painters pulled a bundle of washcloths from one of the niches and handed them to Danny, before leaving. Danny watched them go, wondering how they were going to seal the room. There wasn’t a door they could close, or a rock they could roll in front of entry.
As he thought this, the walls shuddered and pinched, the entryway sucking in on itself, then smoothing over until it looked like there had never been a door there at all, and the walls of the room had always been an unbroken circle.
Well, that was one way to do it.
Danny dipped the washcloths into the water and began to scrub. The wetness, cold, clean, and thin, not like the viscous and sometimes gritty paint, was sitting against his skin.
At first, some of the painted color dissolved and peeled off into the water, leaving clear trails, sinking in swirls, twists, and spirals. Then, the dots shrank, the outside paint wearing away faster than the centers of the dots. But the underlying ink layers, nearly flush against his skin, seeping into his skin, were a different story. None of the layered dots Danny scrubbed away came off entirely. The amount of paint coming off into the water slowed, then stopped. Danny thought that, maybe, some of the dots got bigger when he wasn't looking at them.
Danny doubled down, leaning against one of the walls to get at his feet more effectively.
The water was getting higher. There must have been a source for it, other than the entrance. Cracks in the stone?
Danny paused in his scrubbing and considered the situation. He floated up out of the water, hoping to get a better view of the paint spots. They were flatter, but they were still there. Blue, black, white, green, different shades layered on each other in a variety of orders.
The smoke was thicker up here, near the ceiling, and Danny found himself dozing, suddenly sleepy. He blinked back awake when he dipped into the water.
Oh. That probably wasn't good. He went back to scrubbing. His skin felt raw, but also like it needed to be peeled off, bit by bit, section by section. He ducked himself under the water, hoping to soothe the sensation away. No luck.
He reemerged. The water was up to his shoulders, now, the whole lower half of the room submerged.
And, Danny noticed, it was speeding up.
The smoke was thick enough and drowsy enough that he kept finding himself with his eyes closed. He felt worn and exhausted without having done much of anything. When he dozed, he had snatches of dreams, more impressions than anything. Or, maybe, they were better termed hallucinations. Memories of brushes on his skin, which turned into fingers, poking, prodding, scratching.
He didn't need to breathe in ghost form the same way he did in human form, but he heaved in long, slow, smoke-flavored breaths, panting. Colors scintillated behind his eyelids, more saturated, more vibrant than they should be.
It would have been nice if someone warned him the incense was hallucinogenic. Or maybe it was the paint, acting through his skin. Either way…
The water reached the level of the niches, briefly lifting the bowls. The bowls were too heavy to float for long, though. The small waves Danny was making swamped them, and they sunk, extinguished.
All at once, the water drained out of the room, and Danny with it. The door was back. He sprawled in the small stream as water backwashed into it before sloshing back out. He pushed himself to his elbows as ghostly glows fell on him.
Danny looked up at the Painters, Icespear lingering behind them, and Tucker far in the back, then down at his still-painted limbs. “I'm sorry,” he said, ashamed. He couldn’t even clean himself right. He was such a screw up
“Whatever for?” asked the leader. “You have completed the trial. You have proven that you are worthy. ”
“But I couldn't get off all the paint?” said Danny, confused.
“Well, you wouldn't be a very good canvas if the paint just washed right off you,” said the pigtailed ghost. “We're Painters, not window-washers.”
“Not quite the way I would put it, but not incorrect.” The leader of the Painters offered Danny her hand.
“How do I get it off, then?” Danny, feeling a little noodly, took their hand.
“Time will– Oh my.”
The marks on Danny's skin had changed, moving, contracting and expanding, reminiscent of the movement of iris and pupil. Danny blinked at it, faintly appalled.
“Chromatophores!” said the pigtailed ghost, delighted. “When was the last time someone got those?”
“Over a century,” said another of the ghosts. “You really must be true of heart.”
The leader ghost, meanwhile, ran her finger up Danny's arm, and he watched in disquieted fascination as the robes of color followed its path like they were water on a shower door. “Your skin hasn't just accepted the color, it has incorporated it.”
Danny, a little overwhelmed, flitted over to Icespear, hiding half behind him. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing much. You just won't be getting rid of those,” said the pigtailed ghost, cheerfully.
Danny looked up at Icespear.
“I am no doctor, Great One.”
Danny made a squeaky, wheezy noise and looked down at his arms again. The patterns moved and pulsed in a way that just screamed anxiety, the colors expanding and contracting, like the hallucinated colors behind his eyelids. Looking at them made him feel dizzy.
He paused. Had the colors behind his eyelids been hallucinations? Or were they just on his eyelids.
“Well!” said the Painter. “I expect you’ll want to be shown where you can harvest, yes?”
“Yeah,” said Danny. “Yeah, just, let me get dressed and talk to Tucker, first.” He turned around to face his friend. “How bad is it?”
“You look kind of like someone poured a bucket of paint over you. Artistically!” he added, looking over Danny’s shoulder at the painters. “Or like those really poisonous octopuses? I bet Sam will be into it. She loves poisonous stuff.”
Danny blushed. He saw colors move across the corners of his eyes.
“Ooh,” said Tucker, tracking something across Danny’s chest and face. “You’re not going to be able to hide anything, like that. That’s worse than if you had cat ears.”
“Please don’t give the universe ideas,” said Danny.
“But it would be hot,” said Tucker.
Danny stared at him. It was Tucker’s turn to blush, the tips of his ears going darker than cherries.
“You know,” said Sam, “I’ve been waiting here not looking at anything for forever. Some updates would be great!”
“Let’s just–” said Danny. He shook his head. “You know, if this carries over to human form, I’m going to scream.” He transformed. “Well?” he asked, not quite willing to look down at his arms.
“No, you’re good,” said Tucker, giving him a thumbs up. “You might have some more freckles, though?”
“Okay,” said Danny. “Screaming later, then. We’re coming, Sam! We are coming, right? The plants are up there, somewhere, right?”
“Yes,” said the lead Painter, bemused. “Your friends can come, but they can’t touch anything.”
“Okay. These plants aren’t going to turn me weird colors, are they?”
“Not permanently,” said the Painter.
That was, probably, the best Danny was going to get. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the lack of smoke, then let his breath rush out in a giant sigh. He went ghost again, because even with his t-shirt and pants, it was chilly in the cave. With the new transformation, he regained his suit. A noise of disappointment escaped his mouth when he saw that there were black and white copies of the ‘chromatophores’ on his suit.
He was going to be really upset about this later. After the Far Frozen was cured.
Tucker gave him a double thumbs up. “Trust me,” he said. “It looks good!”
Danny gave him a flat look. “You said I looked like someone dumped paint on me.”
“In a good way!”
“Great One,” said Icespear, “I hate to hurry you, but we are on an errand of some importance.”
Danny blushed again, and nodded. “Sorry.” He shook himself, then flew up the tunnel.
Everything would be fine. Probably.
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i'm explorin
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Ahh yes… the trumpet a very nice shiney one.
As a trumpet player I approve the fact that we have commandeered all the others.
One of us….one of us…
I didn’t know I could play so many instruments .
But I found a funky looking shiny kazoo!

FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DO NOT KNOW
THIS IS A TRUMPET

THIS IS A TROMBONE

THIS IS A TUBA

AND THIS IS A FRENCH HORN

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME
#a fine addition#hellsite (affectionate)#art#i found a cool thing#ha ha funny#yes it’s art#I do really play trumpet#I’m pretty good too#I can really toot my own horn here-#haha get it?#it’s a Jimmy joke.#nvm#I’m dumb#bands#memes#band memes#the cycle#it confuses me#but even so it continues#🫡
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I love how I play most of these trumpets….as a fellow trumpet player I am very talented in areas I didn’t know existed…. I wondered how long it would take for me to find this post tread of….
My favorite thing in the world
One of them shiny ass kazoos

FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DO NOT KNOW
THIS IS A TRUMPET

THIS IS A TROMBONE

THIS IS A TUBA

AND THIS IS A FRENCH HORN

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME
#a fine addition#hellsite (affectionate)#art#yes this is an art form#hiya pal#I’ve done my part as a band nerd officaially#I can’t spell#my bad#let me redeem myself officially#there we go#thank the lord for auto correct#also i always have my ringer off so i never read them on time#but I love all likes and revolts#*reblogs#Nevermind fuck auto correct#band#memes#band memes#i’m funny you can laugh#danny fenton#i found a cool thing#ha ha funny
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For safe keeping in my reblogs
The Finished Animatic!!!
I’m so excited to share this with everyone!! This is definitely the biggest project I’ve ever done before and I’m so proud with how it came out
Enjoy the little gay ghost guys!!!👻👻👻
#danny phantom#teddy ghost#dandash#dash baxter#danny fenton#sam manson#tucker foley#art#greater than great#swagger bishie
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It’s-a-me!
I’m reblogging because I recognize the art style and have made it before!
Very fun would recommend playing. And my mutuals all know how correct that quiz was.(except for the flirting part)
Consider yourself tagged if you are reading this:
Make this picrew of yourself
Take this uquiz (How Fandom Would See You If You Were A Fictional Character)
Thank you for the tag @machiavellli !

#the greatest horse cocktail#made me do this#what a good friend#warms my heart to think that all the tumblrinas calling for more weird characters would hate my guts#uquiz#hehe itsame#I tried to make it actually me#but I guess horsey can be the real judge of that
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I’ve been fluurred !
And it doesn’t bother me! It helps me see what I treats you at any current moment and allows me to make sure that you’re well enough to doom scroll on the internet!
Feel free to do this without worries about me being upset! 🫲🏻😁🫱🏻
@willowthefoxxo @sunifixation @speakofthedebbie @theelectrichighlighter @mod-coffee-is-here @zoerislovely @certainobservationcandy @moots in general
#thanks for being here#yall are awesome#mutuals r keeping me here tbh#your good girl#we besides this happens#off topic#I do care#it’s fun for me#also I always have my ringer off so I never read them on time
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I am realigning this bitch because I want to be able to find it easily, the best scene ever has just happened and I want fast past access to the best scene EVER.
Also kudos for drawing all that, and the story is well thought out and cohesive, great work overall.
DP Mechanic AU- Part 8
Masterpost
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

It was easy to piece together what had happened, seeing the Phantom trio huddled around their cars in the school parking lot, hoods popped and jumper cables at the ready. Without hesitation, Dash changed his trajectory from his own truck to the group.
“Who’s car won’t start?” Dash asked when he was within hearing distance.
All three teens turned in surprise before offering up a variety of greetings to their newcomer.
“Mine won’t start” Danny said in answer to Dash’s original question.
“You could have called.” Dash stated as he stepped up to the cars, taking a peek under the hood.
“Eh, we at least know how to jump a car.” Danny shrugged.
“With instructions” Tucker muttered from where he stood to the side, a forum pulled up on his PDA outlining how to start a dead battery. Danny elbowed him.
Dash turned to Sam as she went to connect the positive cable to her hearse’s battery. “I have a portable jump starter in my car if you don’t want to kill your battery.”
That successfully stopped her.
“That would be great actually.” She answered, back tracking and removing the cable from both batteries. Dash nodded to her and left to track down his truck, returning a few minutes later with the necessary device,
In no time Dash had Danny’s car up and running. Nobody said it, but the trio was grateful that the professional had taken over. They could have managed eventually, but it was only due to Tucker paying for data on his mobile devices and their shoddy reading comprehension that would have kept them afloat.
As Dash was closing the hood, he turned to Danny.
“If you want, you can come over real quick and I can test your battery to make sure it’s not actually the alternator.”
Danny perked up at that.
“Yeah, sure! I just have to drop Tucker off first.” He responded.
A half hour later found Danny back at Dash’s house, his car parked in the garage and its hood popped to allow access. With a newfound familiarity, Danny found his way to the stools that had been his spot the first time he had been in Dash’s garage. Both boys could feel the lack of discomfort that had been ever present in their first car experience together.
“Good news, it’s the battery.” Dash announced as he removed the reader and put it back on the tool chest.
“That’s good news?” Danny asked, warry to hear anything wrong as a good thing.
“Yeah, they cost is about the same, but a battery is hellava lot easier to replace than an alternator.” Dash explained as he grabbed his keys. “Come on, I’ll drive.”
Without question, Danny grabbed his bag and hopped into the passenger’s side of Dash’s truck. As he buckled in, he noted the air freshener was doing a worse job than before at hiding the smell of sweat and plastic from football gear that had sat in the car a hair too long.
Feeling comfortable enough to give in to his curiosity this time, Danny reached up to grab the fuzzy dice wrapped around the rearview mirror.
“Paulina got me those.” Dash responded as he backed his truck out, his arm around the passenger seat and his focus directed out the back window.
“Hmm.” Danny hummed in response to show he was listening while he stared at the strong line Dash’s neck made while his body was turned away. He dropped the dice and looked away as Dash faced forward again and put the truck into drive.
“She got them for me when I started driving. I think she thought they were funny at first, but she ended up getting some for herself too. I do like them.” Dash continued
‘She should have gotten you pink ones though.” Danny joked.
Dash huffed a laughed.
Danny let Dash take the lead when they got to the auto store, following him as he navigated the isles with practiced ease. He watched Dash grab the right battery, present his ID number for a nice discount and manhandle his way into paying.
“You know,” Danny started as they got back into the truck, battery stowed safely away on his lap, “I know I said I’d take advantage of your offer to do everything for free, but I didn’t mean to do it this much. Mostly I meant if for the water pump.”
Dash just shrugged in answer.
“Like, I can pay for the parts at least.” Danny explained further.
“I know what you’re getting at Fenton.”
“Then I can give you money for the battery. You didn’t have to pay.”
“And I said I’d fix your car for free.” Dash returned. “If I wanted you paying for parts I would have said so. Plus, I make good money at my job, and from what I can tell you don’t make anything for being a ghost hero.”
Danny couldn’t find a rebuttal, so with a huff he turned to stare out the passenger window. If asked, he would swear he didn’t pout as he muttered “I like it better when you call me Danny.”
Dash smiled at the road ahead of him.
When they got back, Danny refrained from pulling out his homework and instead watched Dash as he worked to grab all his tools. He watched him load up a cart with a wrench, a rachet and a few other things before wheeling it to the waiting Honda Accord.
As Dash attempted to attach the correct socket to his rachet, it managed to slip out of his hand. A sharp metallic noise rang out as the socket connected with the floor, causing Danny to jump a bit. Immediately he slid off the stool and reached down to grab it as it rolled towards him.
“I got it” Dash said, coming forward at the same time, trying to catch the runaway tool.
Both boys moved too fast to stop from colliding into each other, an audible thump was heard as their foreheads connected. They both fell back with a curse, automatically grabbing the afflicted area as the socket lost momentum, coming to a stop between both their feet.
As Dash dropped his arm, he looked at Danny also rubbing his forehead.
“You okay?” Dash asked. Without thinking he brought his hand up to caress the side of Danny’s face, his thumb rubbing the spot where they had collided. He caught himself glancing down at Danny’s lips before making eye contact with a very flustered Daniel Fenton.
As if on fire Dash snatched his hand back and grabbed the fallen socket, his heart beating a mile a minute as he processed what he had been doing. Rather than trying to figure out an explanation, he just muttered a quick “sorry” and fled back to the car, ducking his head under the hood. His hands shook with a mortifying energy, almost dropping the socket again as he tried to attach it to the ratchet for a second time.






The sound of a car pulling into the driveway brought both boys back to reality. Dash shot away from Danny like a bullet, rushing to the large toolchests against the wall and messing with anything close at hand in an attempt to look busy. He took a deep breath trying to calm his frenzied heart and will away the heat from his cheeks. He’d never felt so much like a deer in the headlights.
Danny found himself frozen against the car as he processed that he’d just made out with Dash. He jumped a little when the car door closed, shocking him out of his stupor and kicking him into gear to stumble back to his seat on the stools.
“Sorry dad,” Dash called in a shaky voice, turning to address the older gentleman walking into the garage. “I thought we’d be done before you got back. I’ll repark your car when we’re finished.”
Danny realized he’d never really seen Dash’s father. As he looked at the tall, middle-aged, all-American man, he could tell who Dash had gotten his genes from. It was hard to pinpoint the greys amongst the man’s blond hair, but he had the same square jaw and hooked nose that his son had inherited. He looked like someone who had also played sports in his prime, but rather than letting himself go as one might think, he maintained a strong stature.
Said man realized they had company and sent a questioning look in Danny’s direction. Danny gave a small wave and the man nodded back in acknowledgement.
“No need to move my car,” Mr. Baxter said, returning his attention to his son. “Your mother and I are going to dinner with the Jacksons tonight.”
“Right” Dash nodded, “I forgot that was today.”
His father nodded in response. “I take it something broke” He asked, taking in the scene as a whole.
“Battery died.” Dash answered, starting to walk back to the Honda. “I told Danny I could check it wasn’t his alternator before he bought a new one.”
Danny was impressed at how steady Dash’s voice was knowing that he himself was having a hard time wrapping his head around the very surreal experience they were having. There was a tension in the air that was almost palpable and he had to resist the urge to turn invisible. He could see Dash was also uncomfortable by the stiffness of his shoulders and his stilted movements.
“I see.”
“Figured I could help install it. It’s easy enough.”
Mr. Baxter nodded before turning his attention to Danny. “Have you been to Dash’s shop before?”
“Yes sir.” Danny answered quickly, startled at being addressed.
“What do you think of it?” Mr. Baxter asked.
“It’s nice. They’re very helpful.” Danny replied cautiously. He got the vague sense he was being interrogated.
“They are.” Dash’s father agreed. “The Harpers happens to be good friends of mine; I hope you continue giving them your support.”
Danny nodded his head. He felt like the comment was pointed, but he couldn't figure out what the man was implying.
“Dash, can I talk to you for a minute?” Mr. Baxter requested before turning and heading into the house. Dash followed at a reserved pace.
As he entered the house, he saw that his dad hadn’t gone far, choosing to stay in the small laundry room that connected the garage to the main house.
“Why’s the Fenton boy in our garage?” Mr. Baxter asked, his arms crossed but his face neutral.
Dash had to calm himself down a moment, his heart attempting to claw its way out of his throat.
“He’s been helping me with my physics homework recently, so I figured this made us even.” He lied.
“I don’t remember your grades going down.”
“No, but this unit’s been hard.”
“Hm.” Dash’s father contemplated. “Is there anyone else you can ask for help?”
“Probably,” Dash responded. “he’s just been the most convenient.”
“I understand,” Mr. Baxter sighed, uncrossing his arms. “I just don’t want to associate with the Fenton’s. They’re strange people and I don’t think it’s best to be seen with their son.”

Dash nodded, keeping his head down as he waited for the conversation to be over. He heard his father sigh.
“Will you be fine on your own tonight?”
Dash nodded again, not trusting his voice.
“We’ll be back around eight.”
“Okay.”
“…Okay”
His father left the laundry room, heading into the main house.
Dash could feel his nails digging into his palm as he clenched his fists. It took two breathing cycles before he had enough control over himself to be ready to face Danny.
Dash kept his head ducked as he re-entered the garage. He was tired. Too much had happened too fast. His heart fluttered as he picked up the ratchet, remembering the feel of Danny’s lips on his own. His chest grew heavy while he loosened the battery as he remembered the judgment on his father’s face.
“Do you need me to leave?” Danny asked quietly.
Dash looked at him in surprise. “No, why?”
Danny gave him a sympathetic look, “Your dad wasn’t exactly quiet.”
Dash’s face fell at the admission.
“Fuck” he cursed. “I’m sorry.”
Danny shrugged and gave him a resigned smile. “It not the first time I’ve heard something like that. You should hear Sam’s parents complain.”
“Still. I-“ Dash stopped. He didn’t know what he wanted to say- he just felt guilty.
“Trust me, I don’t like it.” Danny cut in “but I don’t blame you for what your parents think.”
He sighed before continuing “And I know my parents. I love them but I know they’re loud and I know everyone talks… I don’t like it, but I get it.”
Dash just nodded as he fought off another wave of guilt. He had already had an excuse ready for being seen with Danny had a situation like this occurred, but it hurt knowing his precautions had been necessary. He knew years of listening to his father talk down about the Fentons had been the kindling his anger issues needed to start bullying Danny ages ago. He knew how his father still felt and he hated that Danny had to bear witness to it.
But Dash didn’t know how to express any of this, so he did what he knew he could do and turned back to Danny’s car to fix a problem that required a physical solution.
It took less than five minutes for Dash to change the battery, putting the old one in the bed of his truck so he could bring it to work for proper disposal.
“Go ahead and turn your car on” Dash instructed, is voice still subdued.
“Cool.” Danny responded, slipping into the driver’s seat.
Danny let out a small “Whoo!” as the engine roared to life effortlessly with the new battery in place. He left the car running as he got out to grab his backpack.
“Want to go on a test drive with me?” He asked Dash
Dash shot him a questioning look, knowing a test drive wasn’t necessary.
“Let me rephrase that. Dash, you don’t look like you want to be home right now and also your dad doesn’t want me here” Danny smiled slyly at him “shall we both leave on a test drive?”
Dash let out a surprised huff.
“Alright.” he replied as he hopped in the passenger seat.
Dash could feel his stress diminish the farther they drove from his house. He was exhausted all the way to his bones.
“At least it started nice” Dash thought wistfully, glancing over at Danny and remembering the noise he had made when Dash kissed the spot behind his ear.
Leaning back into the seat, Dash let his eyes fall shut as he focused on the subtle movements of the car accelerating.
Dash wasn’t quite asleep as the car came to a stop, but he still felt groggy as he took in his surroundings. Looking up, he saw the city’s most obnoxious building- the neon Fentonworks sign brightly lit despite the sun still being up.
Dash furrowed his brow in confusion.


Wow! What a fast three weeks!
Jk, I genuinely thought it was going to take a few weeks for this to get finished, but I underestimated my need to draw these two kissing. So, I hope ya'll enjoy the fast update. It's the part we've all been waiting for
There for sure is two more parts, but there's also an interlude and a few side stories I want to do that aren't integral to the story but take place between parts 9 and 10. I haven't decided what order I want to make them all, but that's at least a look at how much more we have until this AU is officially over
See ya'll next time!
Masterpost
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
#dp mechanic au#danny#danny fenton#danny phantom#i found a cool thing#dash/danny#they are so gay#but we love them for that#not cannon#but definitely could be further down the line#great googly moogly#super gæ
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This is so good!
I wouldn’t have guessed it was a first
Great job!
Danny phantom animatic
!! Mild flash warning !!
This has been in my head for a while now and hoodedjellies animatic gave me the kick in the ass to finally see it through.
Ive been staring at this so long I cant tell if i like it anymore lmao but im quite happy with it for my first animatic.
Song: Who are you really? - Mikky Ekko
#danny fenton#god im a sucker for first transformation angst#danny#phantom#phandom#danny phantom#phanart#animation#animatic#danny phantom angst#oh my gosh
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Honestly I’d fuckin drink it, looks delicious. yum.
Going over to the fentons house for dinner like

#danny phantom#lmfaooooo#repost#i’m funny you can laugh#i found a cool thing#my autistic tendencies are showing#danny fenton#Fenton house
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Hey! Fun game if you’re bored.
Ask your phone a question then,
Pull up your Pinterest and the first memes you find are to be interpreted as the answer.
Me and my friends have gotten some really funny answers to really random questions.
Reblog with your answers if you want.
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Just a few snippets of me being a menace online in a twitch chat. Enjoy


I find it funny
#i found a cool thing#I’m funny you can laugh#but not really#shitpost#hahahahahah#twitch#ha ha funny#just a small silly for a big day#enjoy
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ASL format from a class me and my friend are taking.
My poor teacher has to put up with it.
I doubt they mind it that much.
#i found a cool thing#hahahahahah#asl#language classes#holy shit#shitpost#ha ha funny#american sign language#eating grass#my poor teacher
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I might have found one of them
Your all welcome


LISTEN TO ME : AU where Cas gets rescued by a gang of bikers after season 8, instead of getting all the s9 shit (Inspired by some fanfics I’ve read)
Poor Dean’s not gonna know what hit him
Hoo boi I spent so much time on this I can’t look at it anymore so let’s consider it done. Hope you enjoy anyway.
#spn#supernatural#castiel#destiel#spn fanart#biker!cas#destiel au#sfdkmhgqf#idk man#I think I found it#motorcycle#abhhhhh#public service
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I’m stealing this from you
Thanks
Destiel fic recs
Another round of brainrot. I hope they never fix what's wrong with me.
Beggars Would Ride by Tiamatv (Explicit, 118k)
You had me at Aladdin AU. When Dean Winchester is caught stealing, he's given one chance for freedom. Go into the Cave of Wonders, grab the amulet, and get out. Things don't go as planned. Now he's got a moody ancient genie to contend with. But maybe he can use up two of his wishes and then grant the genie his wish: to be free. What could go wrong?
This fic is an absolutely delight. I laughed so hard, especially at the fun ways Tiamatv played with the SPN canon and the Disney movies. But beyond the humor is some really fantastic world building and a beautiful story about finding your way when you feel trapped by life.
Genie Cas is very cute and grumpy and sassy, and it's fun to watch him start to care. And Dean has so much heart it will make you ache. Sam and Jess are disgustingly cute but both are also whip smart and fun. And Jo (Jess’ sister in this) is the knife girl of my dreams.
This one is hard to put down.
Tourbillon Dreams by kayliemalinza @kayliemalinza (Mature, 40k)
Dean uses Bobby's life insurance proceeds to buy a hoarders house stuffed to the brim with cursed and haunted objects. But when he finds a clock that also happens to be an angel, things take an unexpected turn.
It sounds cracky and there is some delightful humor, but this fic packs a beautiful emotional punch. Dean is in his peak caretaking, competency mode and Clockstiel is adorable and entranced with Dean in a way that is just immensely readable.
There is something starkly gorgeous about the way Dean and Cas are physically so different and yet they find each other in meaningful and beautiful ways.
Love Is a Meat Loaf Song by followyourenergy @followyourenergy (Explicit, 68k)
A reimagining of canon where Dean is never saved and becomes a demon. He's bored waiting for the apocalypse when he happens upon a certain blue eyed seraph and they decide to work together.
This fic has all the delightful sassiness you expect of Demon!Dean and especially when he spends time with his frenemy, Meg. It also has just absolutely amazing angel lore and a deep dive into Cas and his trauma. All of this is wrapped up in a soft love story about two beings finding each other and seeing each other and breaking down each other's walls.
It's the entire package of funny, sincere and romantic.
Where there is Darkness by quiettewandering @wanderingcas (Explicit, 91k)
I may have popped this on at some point when it was a WIP but I have to renew my recommendation if so. Dean and Sam are lighthouse keepers, but Dean keeps driving off the third member of their team until Cas shows up. But will they be able to overcome their past to carve out happiness?
This Dean and Cas are so delicious. I am deeply fond of them both. They are fighting against so much baggage and yet they find in each other something so special. Sammy is also perfectly oblivious in the best way. It's hard to explain what makes this fic special except that it is so engrossing, you will be slamming next chapter
Valley of God by ValleyDean @valleydean (Mature, 145k)
I know. I KNOW. The MCD tag is daunting in a fic like this but I promise that while it is accurate, then ending is softer than you think and it's really the way it should end.
So there are a few things about this fic that make it absolutely delicious. First, it really delves into Cas’ trauma in a really gorgeous way. We don’t have enough fics that look at his angel trauma (we can't for me tbh) and this one uses a religious cult situation to delve into it. Second, Dean and Cas in this fic are just so messy and delightful. Dean wants to believe that Cas is good so badly. Cas wants to protect Dean the same way. It's crunchy. Finally, the atmosphere is amazing. It's creepy. It gets under your skin.
Is it dark? Absolutely. But it's also amazing.
The Darkest Sunshine by StarlightOfFandoms @starlightoffandoms (Explicit, 35k)
If murder husbands is your thing, this one is a delight of a fic. Dean Winchester is the Righteous Man serial killer, a notorious murderer who goes after monsters (in human form). People who are guilty of abhorrent crimes. But when he goes after Cas, a professor believed to have murdered several students, he discovers an innocent man being framed. Together with Cas and his team, Dean decides to find the real killer. He just has to pretend to be Cas’ boyfriend until they succeed.
The fake dating trope in a murder husbands fic was a total delight. So was the fact that Dean doesn't work alone and has a full support system to go after the worst of the worst. It's an intriguing concept done really well. Dean in this fic is an interesting blend of sociopathic tendencies, a strong sense of justice, and a willingness to do anything for those he is loyal to. Cas is intrigued by Dean and accepts him as he is. It's a really great combination.
A Weed In Any Other Place by VioletHaze @scones-and-texting-and-murder (Explicit, 63k)
On the other end of the spectrum is this fluffy rom com. There is some angst, but most of it is soft, sweet falling in love along with supportive friends and family.
Cas is a writer. Well, Cas had a book published and now he's desperately trying to write his second while convincing himself the first was probably just a fluke. Writers block is a bitch. That is until his car breaks down and he ends up at a little shop called Winchester and Son. By some weird trick of fate, it's exactly what he needs. He has the most productive day in years sitting in their waiting room. So he comes back, and keeps coming back. The extremely cute mechanic with green eyes doesn't hurt.
Cas is a disaster at social situations in a relatable way. Dean is struggling to put away some bad lessons from his dad so that he can find what he wants instead of what his father pushed on him. Both have a lovely support system. Charlie, in particular, makes me deeply fond in this fic.
i like your shoelaces (thanks! i stole them from the president) by you-cant-spell-subtext-without (ayreisha) @you-cant-spell-subtext-without (Explicit, WIP, 33k so far)
My lovely Tumblr wife is back at it, writing the most delightfully chaotic fic based on Misha's prompt awhile back for President Cas and Fast Food Janitorial Staff Dean Winchester. It's a Cinderella story and in equal parts hilarious and adorable. Also it is a Dean-saster/Cas-tastrophe pairing which is always fun plus there's a 2 person love triangle situation.
Dean's stuck in a miserable job with his only escape being his love of How I Met Your Mother and the Tumblr blog he devotes to the fandom. But when a handsome man walks in one night after hours, things heat up. Too bad the man in question is actually the President.
It's a romp and a love letter to fandom.
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