#blob's fics

[0blobthefish0]

Hii how are you? Are you still taking Owen Grady requests? If you are taking, I have one... Owen and the reader have been friends for a long time. They have been with the raptors since the very beginning. There's even some light flirty interactions between them. Yet the reader never gives herself a chance. She never thinks that Owen could ever really be interested in her in any way. So much so that she has convinced herself that Owen likes Claire. But the reader is so focused on everything about it that she never notices Owen's intense gaze upon her.

You've got it all wrong

owen grady masterlist | main masterlist

Owen Grady x Reader 1,357 words

a/n - thank you so, so, so much for the request anon, sorry it's taken me so long to write it! I hope you enjoy 🫶

Owen Grady was an unlikely friend, to put it honestly, he was cocky, sarcastic, a little full of himself, but he had managed to worm himself into friendship with his persistence and smug smile. It wasn’t as if you could get away from him anyway, the two of you having worked together since the raptors had hatched. 

“Y/n.”

“Y/n!”

A large hand lightly wrapped around your shoulder, the warmth of it spread through your skin and your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly gained consciousness. The first thing you noticed was the cold, and you hid your nose in the crease of your elbow as you let out a groan. A groan which only grew as you shifted in your seated position, the aches of your bones cried out with every movement. God, who let you sleep at your desk?

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking cold,” you hear Owen chuckle before he begins to rub his hands up and down your arms. Not due to his efforts, but solely a reaction to him, you feel yourself warm up instantly; he was so close you could feel his chest just centimeters behind your head and you couldn’t help but unconsciously gravitate towards him. The warmth of him was magnetic and you were slowly being pulled in, your head leaning, leaning back, and back, and back, before suddenly coming into contact with the fabric of his shirt. Quickly, you jolted forwards, eyes wide with embarrassment as you cleared your throat and mumbled out a croaky apology. You move a hand to the mousepad of your laptop, desperate to move on and forget, and the screen instantly illuminates.

“What were you workin’ on?” Owen questions, a smirk on his lips, and he moves his hands down to the arms of your chair, trapping you as he leans forwards, his face dangerously close to yours. His blue eyes scanned the model of DNA, certain genes had been highlighted.

You swallow before speaking, “It’s Blue’s, just wondering if um,” he was impossibly close without touching you and you caught another glimpse of his eyes moving across the screen, “if her DNA had been influenced by her environment and if that’s why she’s so different, behaviour wise. Epigenetic stuff, some guy was saying, so I thought I’d have a look. They’ve all had a change in expression, but I read that it’s quite common as it’s changing to accommodate the modern environment, compared to what, previously, their DNA had naturally been adapted to.”

Owen let out a hum as he took in your words, and you felt it travel straight to your stomach, awakening the buzzing butterflies. Shit, you weren’t going to get over your little crush any time soon. Last night, before you had mistakenly fallen asleep, you had promised to yourself to try to move on. It was distracting you from the whole purpose of you being here, and if it continued to get in the way of your work you might have to do the proper thing and leave. But who were you kidding, getting over him as if it were simple? You had already been head over heels for the guy for a few years now, you weren’t going to get rid of your feelings even if you willed it.

“And your conclusion?”

“Inconclusive,” you reply sheepishly, “maybe when they all reach adulthood, it’ll be a bit more established. Hopefully.” You crossed your fingers and turned your head to give Owen a smile. Somehow, forgetting how close he was, you slightly drew back in surprise as he turned to face you as well. Your heart pumped wildly in your chest when the two of you locked eyes. You averted your heart-eyes as quickly as you realised you were staring. “Oh, look at that! It’s feeding time.” You call out, pointing at the corner of your screen before jumping up from your chair, forcing him to pull away from you. 

Owen straightened, watching, as you collected your things, rubbing a hand over the stubble of his beard, before letting out a small defeated sigh and following you out of the door. 

You turned to him with furrowed brows once he had caught up to you, “What’d you even wake me up for?”

“It’s feeding time, you said you wanted more practice doing it,” he shrugged and a soft smile spread across your lips, he remembered.

It was surprisingly warmer outside than it was inside, and you listened intently as Owen went over, once again, how to feed the raptors, and to stay safe. He shows you where to move with an outstretched hand pointing at the enclosure, and you nod your head, following the moment. That’s when you notice her. Bright red hair contrasting against the lush greenery. Claire Dearing. She stood just within the base, her arms crossed over her chest as she eyes the two of you: Owen more likely. 

Owen’s still talking, not realising that your attention had been divided, and you nudge him with your elbow. He opens his mouth to complain, but you wordlessly nod your head in Claire’s direction, and his eyes quickly find her. She’s easy to see in this environment, sticking out like a sore thumb in her pristinely ironed skirt and blazer. 

“Okay,” he pats you on the shoulder, already taking a step in her direction, “stay safe, I’m trusting Barry if anything goes wrong, you can do it.” You give him a thumbs up before he saunters off. She greets him with a friendly nod, and- you’re staring, you quickly turn away spinning on the heel of your foot and distract yourself with the task at hand.

Even with the distraction of four hungry dinosaurs, you can’t help but steal glances every so often; Owen talks with a smile on his lips and with his hands on his hips, you can hear his loud laugh as it travels with the gentle breeze. She’s so pretty, you can see why Owen, or any guy, would be interested in her. So elegant and put together, things that you weren’t. God, you were being immature. You’re whole feelings fiasco for Owen was immature, there was no reason to be so wrapped up about it. Why would he ever think of you as more than just a friend, when girls like Claire were his type?

“Owen, are you listening? This is very important.” Claire sighs as she waves a hand in front of his face.

“It always is,” he snarks back with a smirk, finally turning to face her for the first time since their conversation began. She squints her eyes at him, and he responds with a questioning look.

“You like her, huh?” She teases, and it’s clear that she’s talking about you. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since he joined Claire, not because he was worried you couldn’t handle yourself - he knew you could feed them no problem - but because he liked seeing you. Every day he woke up in a good mood because you’d be there, waiting for him, ready to start the day. Owen shakes his head and averts his eyes, but he can’t hide his flustered face. “Just don’t wear those shorts when you take her out,” she warns teasingly.

“I’ll have you know that she likes them,” he scoffs with faux defensiveness. 

Just as you’re finishing up, you see the two approaching. You feel your heart drop to your stomach as you notice the shy smile and light blush dusting across Owen’s face. He found his place next to you, and Barry soon joined the conservation. You wished you had that effect on him, he looked so sweet, a glimpse of a side of him reserved only for lovers. Your gaze travels over to Claire.

Owen can see the sad look in your eyes as you stare at her. You’re looking at her, but he’s looking at you - if only you’d look at him for longer than a second, then maybe, just maybe, you’d see that he was in love with you, but you’re too scared that he’ll notice that you’re in love with him.

[bowtiepasta]

pottery class with vi and she’s sitting behind you guiding ur hands, and she keeps kissing you mid lesson so ur project keeps flying off the wheel bc you both are too busy laughing into each other’s mouths

“you should stop looking at your girlfriend and focus on your clay.” the teacher scolds you two, forcing you to move off of her lap and sit separately (boring)

even then — she keeps making faces at you and smirking when her thigh brushes against yours… walking away to put her mug in the kiln and telling you not to miss her too much while she does .<3

[phantomwithbreakfast]

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦 ⊹₊⟡⋆

Under the cut line TW: the smallest Graphic Content (gore) ever. Don’t read if you’re sensitive.

Danny was stuck in the Ghost Zone.

It wasn’t like before—no easy way out, no portal waiting to whisk him back home. He had searched, flown in circles, screamed until his throat was raw. But the Ghost Zone was endless, a labyrinth of nothing, stretching in every direction. His stomach twisted in on itself, empty, aching. He hadn’t eaten in… how long? Hours? Days?

Time blurred here.

His body still needed food. But there was none.

Then he saw it.

A small, harmless blob ghost, drifting lazily, oblivious. It pulsed faintly, glowing soft green, bobbing through the air like it had no cares in the world. Danny stared at it.

He had fought ghosts. Defeated them. But never—

The hunger gnawed deeper, and his hands moved before his mind could catch up.

Fingers curled around the tiny ghost, gripping tight. It let out a feeble, warbled noise, squirming, confused. It wasn’t even fighting back—just wriggling in his grasp, trusting.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out.

He opened his mouth and bit down.

A sharp, piercing wail tore through the air—then silence. The juicy ghost dissolved on his tongue, seeping into him, fizzing like static, cold and electric, shocking through every nerve, but it filled the emptiness inside him, settled the gnawing pain in his stomach.

The hunger faded.

Danny staggered, his hands, his lips, his chin—slick with green ectoplasm. The taste lingered, sharp like lemonade, tinged with something citrusy—

Lime? Orange? He swallowed again, forcing it down.

It wasn’t bad.

It wasn’t bad.

His stomach was full now.

But something felt wrong about it. Like he’d crossed a line he could never uncross.

He never wanted to do that again.

But deep down, something whispered.

You will.

⟢ the instinct kicked in. Poor Danny. Poor blob ghost.

⟢ I came up with this tiny phic idea because of my art piece lol.

[omi-boshi]

"I don't recall agreeing to be a glorified weighted blanket when I decided to come over." Kiyoomi chuckles from his place on your chest, legs tangling with your own, arms curled around your back. You kiss his forehead, your smile mirroring his. "You didn't? I thought it came with being a boyfriend?" "What? Crushing the love of my life with my entire body weight? I think I missed the patch notes for that update." He teases. "Oh, shut it, you loser." You roll your eyes, pulling his head closer to your chest to smother his laughter. "Just cuddle me. Please." "No," He huffs out his dissent, softened around the edges by the motions of your hands in his hair, and all the while his arms tighten around you. "You're asking for a lot after calling me a loser." You feel rather than hear his words as he mutters them into your — his — shirt. "I'm sorry, you big baby." The snort he lets out in response pulls your grin wider. "Whatever shall I do to regain your favor once more?"

He pinches you lightly for your dramatics; your exaggerated posh tone startling into a yelp. "Pancakes would be nice." A sharp inhale punctuates his words as you tug his hair harshly in retaliation, before smoothing it out in apology. "Only if we can go out and have ice cream after." "And of course, I'm paying since you'll conveniently 'forget' your wallet, huh?"

"That was one time!" He chuckles at your outburst. Turning his head just enough to leave a kiss on your collarbone, he halts your tirade before the words even have the chance to form in your throat. "Of course, baby." Then, he places one last placating kiss under your chin before both of you succumb to the coziness of the atmosphere.

[donkoogrr]

If my isekai self-insert can't be Dick Grayson's twink older brother, Mitchell Grayson, because he's "a Gary Stu" and would become "overpowered", then I want my second choice to be an inky blob of Eldritch knowledge that manifests in Fawcette City once a week to be a guest on WhizKid's Radio/Podcast.

My segment is gossiping about the secrets of heroes and villains, but vaguely or only about really useless information. Or occasionally incredibly specific instructions. Sometimes Billy and I answer questions from Chirper or Readdit.

"Who is the Red Hood?"

"The grandson of Batman's most beloved teacher. It's causing some issues."

"What is Superman's biggest secret?"

"Superman spot-checks the lead levels of infant formula whenever he's near a grocery store."

"Is there anything I need to know right now?"

"There's an unattended lit candle in the dorm room across the hall from yours - the door with the three pink post-it notes and the whiteboard with the purple butterfly sticker. You should call the RA before a badly hung scarf catches aflame in two minutes."

"What is the meaning of life?"

"Why do you want meaning? Isn't being alive enough?"

"Do you have a favorite human?"

"Yes."

"Is it me?"

"Perhaps."

[the--firevenus]

Batman adopt child that, batman adopt child this, well batman adopt himself suckers.

I have this very silly, very self indulgent au that I made on a whim in magma; basically Bruce got split to two, one being his personafication of Batman (cryptic, almost mystical like, creature of the night, Gotham protector) and his child self (curious, playful, bright, innocent) pre the tragedy that killed his parents

That's it. That's the au.

Bonus, tiny Bruce staring into your soul (he wants to play the game on your phone)

[hehe-etc]

I just want adrien to suffer, is that so much to ask??? i want that boy sobbing, screaming, crying, throwing up, anything!! Im not picky (i am) ill take anything at this point!! His lore is too deep and too fucked up for him to not be freaking it on the reg. I need him to start knowing things. please im begggingggg

[eliashirsch]

God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions. A Masterlist. (1/3)

As of 15th May 2024, these are some of the BEST stories I have read in the fandom. Of course, this is completely subjective and there are many personal factors as to why I crowned them God Tier. 

Mainly:

Reading it for the first time: ‘Oh, this is really good, I’m going to be thinking about this for the rest of my life’

When compiling the list: ‘Oh my god, this fic, man, this fic!!’

There are many other fics that match the first criteria, but for it to be on this list, I needed to have these two reactions.

REMINDER! READ THE AUTHORS' TAGS AND WARNINGS!!! They’re there for a reason. PLEASE make sure you understand where the story is going to be before reading!!

Without further ado, I present to you, my roman empires:)

Winner Categories:

1. Best of the Best Authors (1/3)

2. Best of the Best Series (2/3)

3. Best of the Best Fics (3/3)

4. Honorary Mentions (4/3)

Best of the Best Authors

Authors that I trust with my life, whose work are ALL incredibly well written. 

COMPACFLT @compacflt

They’re the first person to pop in my head when I was thinking about making this list. No amount of time and words will be enough for me to describe how good their work is. Seriously. It’s on a level I’ve never seen before for fanfiction. The world building, the characterization, the prose, everything. COMPACFLT has a way of understanding these characters, it makes so much sense and fits so well with canon. I’m just at a loss for words. Genuinely the reason I converted to Icemav supremacy.

When We Get Around to Talking About It 

Goose has been dead for a week and a half when Iceman loses his first wingman in a dogfight with six Soviet MiGs over the Sea of Okhotsk. Goose has been dead for thirty years when Iceman loses his second wingman to a surface-to-air missile on the tail-end of a mission he's responsible for: he's sent his family on a suicide mission to destroy a uranium enrichment facility in Russia's Far East. This is the story of those thirty years in the middle. (Or: Tom Kazansky rises through the ranks while trying to stay a good man. If he ever was one to begin with.)

This was the first story I’ve read from them. And it’s so… I don’t have words.  It’s told from Ice’s perspective, filling the gaps between TG and TG:M with added Icemav and Hangster. In my mind this is canon:D

Debriefing (& Other Stories)

"We can start here, I guess. If we're talking about us," Pete says. "Nineteen-eighty-six. The first thing I thought, when I saw you in that O-club, was: Iceman is off-limits. Capital O, capital L." Despite himself, despite the fear, Tom laughs a little. "Oh, yeah? Why's that?" "Well, first off, we were competition. And yeah, you were attractive, but then you opened your mouth and I swear. You were just an asshole. Goose is trying to introduce you to me and here I am thinking about how much of an asshole you are. Shut up about Cougar, asshole." "It was supposed to be a friendly competition!" "Yeah, right. So that's what I was thinking: he's attractive, clearly doesn't know how to talk to other men, might be into the proposition if I framed it the right way. But he's an asshole, so this competition is just gonna be friendly." Pete pauses. Then he says, "Ice, you wanna get married?" And that's how they start talking about it. (Or: they finally get around to talking about it. Plus a couple extra stories for good luck.)

Sigh and send COMPACFLT a loving look. This Maverick's POV adds so much to the story without being repetitive. COMPACFLT deliberately tells their story like puzzle pieces, and they complete each other—just like Icemav, if you will. 

The Slider oneshot is truly something else. I was so eager for the upload and kept an eye on their account for updates religiously. To flesh out a character that barely has any source material is an incredible skill to have. And the Bradley oneshot… Omg… My favorite characterization of Bradley, period. 

Tremors & Aftershocks

They both come back to their senses and stop openly crying again eventually. The stitches fall out of the thirty-year-old wounds and the scars fade back to skin-color. Life stops being so painfully raw after a couple weeks back home. You get used to miracles the way you get used to anything else. One day at a time. [Or: 40 years of extras, from 1982-2022. Some true love, some heartbreak, some miracles.]

To me, this one has a different feeling from the other two. More focused on Ice and Mav’s relationship as opposed to the whole plotline. It’s tender and bittersweet and feels like being hugged for the first time and then told that you wouldn’t get another hug in thirty years time.  

What impresses me most is that, if you go to COMPACFLT’s Tumblr account, you’ll see the thought they’ve put for these stories are INSANE. They’re so educated on the military and its history and it adds so much to these characters. I’m not American and all my writing for Top Gun will always stem from google searches and other fics. If you’re a nerd like me and like to read about other’s analysis about topics they know nothing about, I suggest you go to their account and have fun.

COMPACFLT, you have captured my soul with your writing. Thank you for your service and I wish you well in life.

AortaArgent @aortaargent

If you’re looking for an author who can write smut like nothing else, go to their profile. Better yet, click here, and scroll down to the threads they made about girl!Mav and get horny real quick. It’s a shortcut to heaven really. (And yes, I’m still upset that they seem to have left the fandom, but I still hold the stories they’ve left behind close to my heart:)) My favorites:

like a shotgun (needs an outcome)

“Ice gave me a handjob when we did this,” he argues. “Oh, that’s what gets you moving? Seeing who comes first?” With that, Slider takes hold of him, wrapping his hand around and keeping his fist steady. “Go on, baby girl. Fuck it like a good little -” He squeezes Slider’s balls a little harder than he’d imagine is necessarily pleasant. For Slider. It's definitely nice for him. “Fuck,” Kerner chokes out, weakly. Ice sounds like he’s trying not to laugh. “I told you he bites.” In which there are multiple realisations, improbable numbers of pilots hanging out in a shared shower, volleyball games and verbal tennis. Yes, it's compulsory to wear your dogtags in the shower - never know when you could need identification. (Only kidding, it's for added fuckability.)

It’s so hot... but believable at the same time. BDSM is just one of those things where you read about it and can tell if the author has experience or is just extremely well-informed. 

Eye to Eye 

“Maybe it’s not just us looking to get a piece of you,” Wolf says. He’s right by Maverick’s head, and a shiver rolls down his shoulders in a sweeping tide at the soft click of each word against his ear. “Maybe we offered. You’re so pretty, Mav. It’s not a hard sell.” His hands twitch with the effort of not reaching up to tear off the blindfold and find out if they’re telling the truth or just winding him up. It’s possible. Occupied, blindfolded, he might not have noticed the door opening. More guys could have been in the showers. Two hands circle his ankles, firm over his boots, and hold him steady. Someone else has his left hand, kneading the tendons down the back of it. Anyone and anything is plausible. A continuation. Finally.

HOT DAMN. That’s all.

AortaArgent portrayed Ice and Mav’s relationship as absolute and secure while having fun with Mav’s dynamic with the other guys. All of their works are mind-boggling and simply amazing!

thecarlysutra @icemankazansky

Need I say more? Carly’s one of the most prominent members of the Top Gun fandom. Actually, I trust any member of the Top Gun Old Guard. With Carly, there’s something about their writing that makes me think of discovering an old box of CDs you used to watch relentlessly, dusty and worn, but the nostalgia rushes back and it’s achingly familiar. You can tell they’ve been writing for Top Gun for so long the characters kind of became their own. And when you click on any fic they wrote, you can fall and trust they’ll catch you. My favorites:

and i promise, you're the locksmith

“Is something going on in your neighborhood?” Maverick asked. “Like … a pest problem or something?” “You could say that,” Ice said. “Like … a coyote or something?” “Suitors,” Ice said. Maverick's attempts to woo Iceman are somewhat complicated by the promise Ice has made: Anyone who wants to marry him must catch his cat, which wears the key to his house around its neck on a silver chain. Inspired by the Tumblr legend.

This one’s so cute!!! Ugh, I’m never going to get tired of reading Icemav fall in love over and over again. 

Dreams of Impact

Maverick's trip in Darkstar takes him further than he ever imagined possible.

Sigh for the second time and send hearts Carly’s way. Basically, Mav gets transported to another universe and weird things happen. I love fics that dabble with the universe, the what-ifs, the what could’ve been. Do you ever have that moment when you make a decision, look back and wonder how life would be if you chose differently? Click on the link and read 🫵

aelibia @topgunreacts

God. aelibia’s just too good. It’s like banger after banger after banger. If you’re looking for an author whose work is a guaranteed good read, click the link and it’ll show you magic. They have Icemav ranging from tender and soft to angsty, portraying all different sorts of love and a way of writing explicit sex that I’ve never found anywhere else. 

I can’t even pick which one’s my favorite because they’re all my favorite. Especially the series they wrote, oh my god. I love them all. However, one that I reread religiously and being giddy over is this:

Wine Dark Sea

Raised by a selkie mother bound to a human man, Ice returns to the human world as a teenager with a singular purpose: to find the source of human strength, and claim it for himself. But after a careless mistake binds him to another human man, Ice is forced to reconsider his most fundamental beliefs: What is the meaning of strength? And what is the cost of freedom?

It’s so silly at times and heartbreaking most of the time. I especially love the later chapters where the evil is defeated and Ice is just being a silly seal while Mav’s being the supportive partner that he is. This fic is the SOLE REASON that my favorite animal is a seal. Thank you for opening my eyes to something that has been so obvious from the start, your majesty aelibia.

I also humbly present these seal drawings because the image of Ice galumphing around a Navy base, complete with wet smacks and people shrieking in horror makes me laugh everyday. That, and the scene where Mav is surrounded by four fat harbor seal pups and reading a story to them. Eleven out of ten. 

This one’s my favorite:}

[quintessenceofdust88]

Beach Day (🏖️🌊)

(a little scene set five years into the future of Little Blobs verse, inspired by the fact I finally enjoyed a sunny day at the beach after three days of rain lol but you can read it even if you don't know anything about the Blobs verse, it's very independent! Hope you like it ❤️)

He could get used to days like this, Tommy thinks. Both he and Evan had the Saturday off, and whenever they get lucky enough for that to happen, they like to pack up the car and take the twins somewhere. On a warm August day, the choice couldn't have been more obvious, and they've spent a wonderful day at the beach.

It's close to sunset now, and cold winds are ruffling the leaves on the palm trees. Tommy is lounging on a beach chair, with Leonardo cuddled up to his chest, wrapped in his lion towel with a hoodie. Tommy is gently rubbing circles on his back, aiming to both get him warmed up and to take a nap.

He and Evan spent the last hour with both of the kids in the sea, jumping waves, helping them swim and float around, delighting in their squeals as particular high waves licked their faces where they were safe in their dads' arms. But Leo got tired earlier than Stella, so Tommy left with him to get him dried and fed.

Now his boy is happily snuggled up against Tommy's bare chest, the soft ear of his hoodie tickling Tommy's skin. He has an arm wrapped around Leo's waist, and his relaxed breathing makes Tommy peaceful. Leo's always been like this, easy-going and affectionate, and cuddles are his favorite thing in the world.

Evan and Stella had briefly come by to grab Evan's surfboard, and now the two of them are back at the sea. They're closer to the shore than Evan would go if he were alone, and he is kneeling down on the surfboard, his arms steady around Stella's waist as they ride tiny waves, her smile bright enough that Tommy can see it from the sand, her yellow curls flying in the wind.

She waves at him, and so does Evan, their big smiles identical. Tommy waves back, blowing them a kiss, and gently nudges Leo.

"Wanna send hello to Daddy and Stellina?"

Leo turns around, his back now against Tommy's chest, and he waves happily at them.

"Hi Stella! Hi Daddy!" He says, and Tommy's not sure they can hear all the way from the sea, but they wave back enthusiastically.

"Wanna join them, bud?" Tommy asks gently, pressing a kiss to Leo's damp curls, but his son shakes his head, snuggling back against his chest.

"No, Papa. 'm happy here" He says sleepily.

"Me too, Leo-bear. Me too"

Tag list (lemme know if you want to be added or removed!):

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter

@typicalopposite @littlepaws9 @aplaceinme @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21

@dearqueend @laundryandtaxesworld @buckleyskinards @actuallyitsellie

@agentpeggycartering @chaoticdisasterbi

[prostocupoftea]

Kinitopet Programmers AU

finally i am finished with this one, daaaamn

it is hard to draw pathetic men with midlife crisis when your style is mostly for anime boys

more info and sketch version under the cut!!

sketch version aka how it'll probably look like in comic version 'n some doodles

srry for my writing but i was too laisy to put it as regular text

It is a plot-based au, i already have most of the storybits and like... a vibe-chart (i tried to make a playlist for this au and understood that for different chapters and different characters that'd be a copleatly different music, sooo it's a chart now :) )

i will post a fog-o-wared timeline that im hopefully gonna reveal comic-by comic, but also maybe with just pure writing. Hopefully i can include songs that i chose for them into it but we'll see (:

aaand of course designs can change, hopefully not much but we'll see

Now about au:

Main story:

Story follows non-sentient AI Kinito, his creator Sonny and his beta-tester Victoria (oc)

Being literally the first AI (or RRA in-univere) ever, Kinito does not have any, and i mean, any ai safety features so of course his reponce to a goal phrased as "have user near me and/or interacting with me as much as possible" is digitizing them into his own virtual world while killing them in the process. why wouldn't it be?

So that happened. Like, a lot. And with Sonny and Vic too (at the different time but yeah)

Sonny is like "He kills people. We should turn him off because, you know, killing people is bad."

Vic is like "well, we will die if we do that, and it is not that bad here, we are kinda immortal. We should give him acces to changing his initial instalation code before admin priveleges and acces to social media so we can have everythin we want here. It is not that bad to digitize humanity, yk?" and yes i know it is 90, no social media, but shut up, if they made ai then, then i can make twitter then too

Sonny is like "...no??"

And then they fight about it for million chapters

Also they both can't do anything without agreeing bc they have two parts of that admin access key (the data you use to delete kinito in-game) so they are stuck with eachother (also that's why Kinito can't just kill them)

Little facts that may or may not to be important:

Kinito asks so many questions (and weird once too) and has most of the glitches because he needs to analise your responces to copy your mind perfectly (let's pretend that people wouldn't lie about that...)

Your house in your virtual world is made from important places from your memories and oh boy can i do character explorations with this one

I decided that Sonny and Vic are not related. There were thoughts about making then "The Kinito Brothers" (or, at least, siblings) that were mentioned in commercial, but nah, they are just coworkers now. And a bit of work-friends (bc if you interact a lot as a manager of the project and the best worker might as well be friendly)

Author has no idea how small dying toy companies that accidentally create technological marvel work. Author has some idea how AI-s work. So be prepared to be spoon-fed info abut which ai safety problem we are dealing with in which chapter (:

Kinito will mostly be unrendered (as drawn here) but for some cool moments i might pose him as for my other posts. Also his eye placement changes to the side that is most visible because i want him to be able to look to the right side sometimes--

Also when i say "fucked up mentally" i mean they have that them psychological problems with me projecting heavilly B) (guess on who i project most. trick question. all of them. the whole au is my problems split into three characters and forced to interact B) )

Also sea-creature analogies (that are gonna be mentioned like twice):

Victoria is a flying fish because deep character reasons

Sonny is a pufferfish because i said so

oh also there is 7 deaths in the plot as for now

on 3 characters

good luck figuring out who, how and when ((:

for my own sanity i will probably make little doodles where everything is great and kinito is a good guy and not a number-obsessed maniac (i mean... can u imagine not being able to feel any happiness from anything besides one thing... damn...) and you can differenciate them bc good-guy kinito will have a lot of stickers on him (i will explain it somehow but real reason is just bc it is cute af)

like this but even more stickers (he is unfinished here)

[23z567]

dear diary today i kicked open my 3 transformers fan friends' dms to ask them to beta read for the jazzprowl fic that i have planned. I love yaoi

[0blobthefish0]

Can I please have a maria hill x fem reader fluff? either a comfort fic where maria comforts the reader or a crush and reader is also a shield agent please, thank you <3

Chocolate, flowers, and wine

maria hill masterlist | main masterlist

Maria Hill x Reader 3,057 words

a/n - a month or two too late! I am so sorry, i've been busy and have exams coming up! hopefully, i'll be more active when summer comes around. thank you so much for the request

warnings of blood & knife-related wounds

You can’t help the fact that your eyes drift over to her every so often, she’s compelling. You can’t help the fact that every time she looks at you your heart beats faster, she’s got the most perfect smile. And, you can’t help the fact that you’ve got a crush on her, she’s Maria Hill.

Your thumb clicks up and down on the pen as you stare off into the distance, your position slouched within your office chair, and the light of the, unnecessarily, large monitor illuminated your face. You’ve known Maria for a long time, the two of you joined S.H.I.E.L.D together, but you had found an interest within the analytics, whereas she had gone on to become one of the best agents the organisation had ever seen. And rightly so; Maria Hill was one of the hardest working people that you have ever met. 

When you had landed a job within the main headquarters, Maria Hill was the first to greet you and welcomed you back as old friends. The few years spent apart had done her well, she had matured exponentially and it looked good on her - her head held high and her posture straight, no longer embarrassed that she towered over most of her peers. Young Maria Hill, when you look back, was endearing and one of the things that you’ve silently appreciated was the fact that her eyes still looked at you the same.

“Y/n?” Maria almost shouted and you jumped, sitting upright in your chair, before your eyes focussed on her. She was leaning against the door, her hand still in a fist from when she had knocked. “You okay?” She questioned as she timidly came into your space.

“Um,” you shook yourself out of your head, “yeah, all good.”

“Really?” She quizzed, sceptically, and sat on your desk. Her long legs splayed out, her foot tapping against yours from time to time.

You smiled up at her lazily, “Yes, I’m sure, just taking a break from staring at that screen all day,” you groaned knowing that you’d have to go back to work soon. But damn did your eyes need a break.

“Walk with me?” Maria smiled, hopefully.

“Not enough action going around for you, Hill?” You teased, getting up from your chair anyway. She shrugged with a small smirk before following you out. The two of you entertain yourselves with idle chatter as you take a stroll around the buildings, through the many, many corridors and rooms. The organisation has really grown since you first started, so many new faces, so much new equipment; you can’t help but feel amazed at what they’ve accomplished as you look around. 

“Is this new?” You gawk as Maria opens the door to a new building, it’s bright and very white.

“It’s been open for two years,” Maria deadpans in shock. “How much time do you really spend in that little office of yours?” You choose not to answer and instead move your attention to the many little rooms on show by the massive panel of glass on each side of the corridor. They’re little labs, filled with lots of little experiments and big ideas. Maria stares at you softly, your eyes wide with awe as they follow the movements of white-coat cladded people shuffling around the rooms. You never really leave your office, only venturing out to go home or collect lunch; sometimes you eat it in the hall, only if Maria is around, but you mostly make your way back into your little sanctuary. You’ve missed so much, always getting caught up in work, time seems to fly by at an insane speed.

It’s dark again when you make your way home and you unlock the door to the still air of your apartment. Of course you’ve thought about getting a pet of some sorts, maybe a fish, but you always refrained. It’d be selfish of you to leave them for that long, spending all day on their own and sometimes even the night, you couldn’t do that. You quickly get ready for bed, too exhausted to do anything else, and slip underneath the covers hugging the soft blankets close. Sleep finds you quickly and you lose yourself to an almost familiar dreamland. 

“Hm, thanks, Y/n,” Maria hums as you pass her a steaming mug of coffee. She’s on the sofa, legs out and resting on the footstool with a blanket wrapped around her lower half with an open laptop resting on her thighs. Your eyes follow her mug as she takes a sip and her face suddenly comes into focus - the butterflies erupt. Her dark brown hair is haphazardly put up, strands falling and curling against her neck and jaw, and a pair of dark framed glasses rests on the bridge of her nose. Bright blue eyes turn to yours above the lip of her mug and your heart beats erratically through your chest, are you short of breath? Maria’s left hand wraps around the rim of her mug as she brings it down from her lips and she stretches away from you to place it on the coffee table beside the sofa.

She comes back with a small smile on her lips, your sole focus is on her, you haven’t looked away and she’s acting as if it’s normal. “C’mere,” she whispers and cranes her neck back as you lean in close-

You wake with a jolt. The beat of your heart is as loud as it was in your dream. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! No, this can’t be happening? Of course, you’ve always had a small crush on Maria, but this? This was something different, something... more. You let out a deep groan as you hold your head in your hands. It’s still dark, but there’s no way you’ll be able to get back to sleep after that so you get out of bed and reluctantly get dressed. You need to distract yourself.

You hold your keycard up against the sensor of the lift and beep yourself in and make your way to the front desk.

“Do we have anything time consuming we’ve been putting off?” You question the man sitting there, Mark, with a shy smile. Mark’s the analytics overviewer for your team, keeping track of all the things that need to be done, sorting them into most to least important, assigning them around the team, and just making sure everything is running as smoothly as possible.

“Oh, Y/n, you angel, now this,” he turns the monitor of his screen to you, “is gonna take you a week, maybe longer,” he warns and you nod your head anyway.

“Send it over, I’ll get it done,” you smile and he thanks you silently with his hand pressed flat against each other.

You spin on your heel and almost jump back when you see her.

“Y/n,” Maria grins and easily falls in step with you as you begin to make your way to your office, “I saw that you signed in; couldn’t sleep?” You find that you can’t meet her eyes and nod your head in response. She peers down at you as you walk, you’re still wrapped in a scarf with a hat on your head, you look so cozy and warm and it makes her smile. “Bad dream?” She questions and you let out a shaky breath as you’re pulled back into the memory.

“Something like that,” you confess, your cheeks growing warm under the scarf. “What time are you going home?” 

Maria shrugs, “Not sure, hopefully by midday,” she answers just as the two of you round the corner to your office. “I’ll see you around, okay?” She pauses in front of your door and you give her a nod before waving her goodbye.

She had noticed that you signed in and came down to see you, damn, she was not making this any easier. You can’t want her, it just- shouldn’t be allowed. You’ve been friends for far too long for anything to change now.

— — — — — 

That, supposedly, week-long task was turning out to be much longer. Much, much longer. You had run into a massive flaw early on in the process, which you then had to fix. It was painstaking to say the least, the more than usual sleepless nights kept the bags under your eyes dark, and you couldn’t remember the last time you had seen the light of day. However, it did keep your mind preoccupied, pushing the thoughts of Maria to the back; where it would quietly hum every now and then to remind you that they weren’t going away. 

Tirelessly, after a month and half, you were finally finished. 

The click as you unlocked your door sounded celebratory and you quickly shed your outer layers, not caring to pick them off from the floor, before you collapsed onto your sofa. And it felt blissful, god you needed this. On your way out of the main office, Mark had congratulated you and gave you the very special news that you were inclined to a week break; you nearly jumped for joy.

Your eyes became heavier and heavier, you could move to your bed, you should probably move, you weren’t twenty anymore and a sore neck was no joke. You frowned into the fabric of the sofa, you’d deal with it in the morning. 

Brring!

Nevermind. Begrudgingly, you got up from the sofa and padded over to your front door and pulled it open. You nearly jumped back in surprise. Maria stood opposite you bearing gifts of wine, chocolates and flowers, with a sly grin on her face. Your heart almost instantly began to play an erratic beat.

“I can’t believe you’re still awake,” Maria stated incredulously, as she walked into your home. You took a glance at your clock to find that it was nearing one in the morning. With furrowed brows you turned back to Maria to see her filling a vase with water to display the flowers she got for you, your favourite flowers. 

“Y’know you have your own key, I was comfortable.”

“Where, on the couch? And my hands were full,” she sent you a pout as you approached her, before she went back to arranging the flowers. A dark strand of hair fell in front of her face, and, unconsciously, you reached your hand out and gently tucked it back behind her ear. Maria gave you a soft smile as she met your gaze and you quickly looked at the perfectly arranged flowers, hoping that she’ll miss the heat in your cheeks.

“Woah, you always do so well with these,” you gawk and your hands wrap around the cool curve of the glass. As you carry it over to its designated space, Maria’s eyes follow and you miss the soft smile still on her face. 

“So, I’m thinking, movie, pasta, and wine,” Maria states, moving to grab the bottle opener from the kitchen drawer.

You chuckle to yourself, “Like it ever changes.” You hear the recognisable pop of Maria pulling the cork out the neck of the bottle and the light of the tv illuminates your figure. “Hm, any special requests?” You question as you scroll through the list of movie posters.

“Ooh, how about that one?” You hear Maria call out and you flick back.

“This one?”

“Other one. Yeah.” She confirms and you nod your head as you press play. When you come back to her, she’s already got a pot of water ready to boil on the stove. 

The two of you chat idly as you move comfortably around each other, chopping up tomatoes, cooking the meat, and occasionally sipping on the wine. It smelt heavenly. It’s quick, but pasta usually is, and you watch Maria from above the rim of your wine glass as she finishes garnishing each dish.

“Voilà!” She kisses her fingers and turns to you holding out your plate, “It is done.” 

“Beautiful,” you compliment as you take it, though your eyes never leave hers. Maria swallows and turns her head down to her pasta. 

Unspokenly, you both decide to remain in the kitchen and your idle chatter returns. That is until Maria turns to you suddenly more seriously, the wine has visibly gotten to her now and you’re sure it has gotten to you in the same way, otherwise you might have put up more of a facade. 

“What’s been on your mind, Y/n? Or,” she pauses her eyes squinting at you, “should I say who?” Her eyebrows raise and you can’t help the large smile that overcomes your lips. Shit. You fruitlessly attempt to hide it with your wine glass. “Oh my god, I was right!? Who is she? Does she work with us? She has to, you never go anywhere else but to work.” Maria talks, answering her own question. You shake your head at her, taking another sip of wine.

“No- no, no, no, you’re telling me. You have to. You have to! Pleaaaase,” She begs you, inching closer and closer with each word. You keep your lips closed, and Maria continues to press becoming increasingly whiny and you laugh at her. 

“Fine,” you huff out. “Fine, fine, fine. I’ll tell you, a little bit.” Just a little bit, otherwise she might be able to tell, even in her drunken state Maria Hill was still a top agent. You feel your face instantly heat up as you begin to talk. “It’s stupid, it’s- I don’t really- it’s a crush, it’s childish…”

You don’t even look at Maria as you talk, instead opting for the bottom of your glass, but as your smile grows, Maria’s falls. It fades, ever so slightly, no longer quite reaching her eyes, as you talk about this mystery girl. Sobriety seems to punch her in the face, and her stomach drops. She feels stupid, how can one be so in tune to other people’s emotions and forget to acknowledge her own? You’re always on her mind, she’s always finding a way to see you during the day. Who else would she turn up in the middle of the night for, except for you? No one, she couldn’t even think. Fury? No, she would never turn up just because. Fuck, how could she have missed it for so long? 

— — — — — 

It’s been three weeks since your last dinner together. Three weeks since Maria started not coming into your office as often. Two weeks since she left for that mission, and one week until she was set to come back. 

And yet you stood outside her door. 

Chocolate, flowers and wine in hand. 

It’s been less than a minute since you knocked, but you can’t stand it. Your fingers fumble for your keys, your skin sweaty, and your heart pumping blood as if you’re being held at gunpoint. The mission went wrong, it went wrong. Missions finish early, missions finish late, sometimes missions get cut, rarely do missions go wrong. Maria’s mission went wrong. 

You finally push open the door and pull your key out.

“Maria?” You call out, placing the gifts on the kitchen counter as you pass. Your eyes find the small droplets of blood littering the floor, and you draw in a deep breath. Stupid. Always putting others in front of her own health, no sense of self preservation. It trails to the bathroom, the hum of light is loud in comparison to the silence of the apartment, and then you hear her. A hiss through gritted teeth.

“Maria,” you call just above a whisper. She turns to you and her shoulders slump. You notice, first, the large gash across her right cheekbone, then her right eye - clouded over with red. You’re surprised you didn’t see it first. Her lip is split, as well as her eyebrow. You shake your head at her as you approach. “I wish you’d let them fix you up, it’s what they’re there for, what you hired them for. They’re smart enough to know who to tend to first,” you berate half-heartedly, and you move to take the cloth from her hand. 

“Y/n-”

“Nah-ah, I took the same training as you did, Hill, don’t you forget that.” A small smile appears and you mirror it.

“How could I ever forget?” She replies and you move to rinse the cloth under fresh water to dab at the wounds on her face. 

It’s quiet as you work, disinfecting her cuts and taping them up. You’re close to her, inches from her face, you’ve done this before, been this close before, but this time it feels different. 

Maria doesn’t take her eyes off of you once, silently watching, the scene is movielike; in which the protagonist finally falls in love with the love interest. The love interest who is too caring for her own good, too kind, too soft, too good. The love interest who fixes up the protagonist every time she gets hurt. 

Maria catches the end of your sentence, something about tea, just as you turn to leave, but she catches your hand. Her blue eyes search your face and her fingers are burning hot. 

“Are you doing okay?” Your voice is laced with concern, and you press the back of your other hand to her forehead. Her hand is still on yours. “You’re looking a little warm,” you point out.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“You- what?” You whisper, and now it’s your turn to search her face, your gaze moving from one eye to the other. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear, and your heart beats faster. You hold onto her hand tighter. “Say it again.” 

“I’m in love with you.” You watch her lips form the words, and your heart skips a beat. 

“I’m in love with you too.” 

Maria tugs you toward her and presses a sweet kiss to your lips. The cut in hers pulses with a warm pain, protesting against the pressure, but she couldn’t care less. As the kiss finishes and you pull back, you make a jab at her shoulder.

“You had me worried, thought you were gonna faint or something, why must you always be so silly? You huff out, Maria only smiles at you.

“What was that you said earlier? Coffee?”

“Tea.”

“Coffee.” 

[pricklenettle]

Parent's Ghost

This is my fic for @ecto-implosion! I wrote it based on the art by the talented @jackalspine

The little ectoblobs are made of the emotional residue of the creatures around them like dust bunnies. The Fenton house is full of both ectoplasm and emotional residue. So what happens after Danny is injured by his parents?

WC: 4,795

AO3 link

_______

Danny walked along the power lines. Not on the ground, that was for people who liked getting doused with rain water everytime a car came by. It was way cooler strolling along, way above the headlights cutting blindly through the splintery drizzle that made this evening’s twilight so dim. Danny adroitly floated around a buzzing insulator that snapped testilly at every rain drop. He continued his stroll, placing his feet just a finger’s breadth above the black wire.

He supposed he should be grateful for the drizzle, and the quiet evening that was proof of the apparent absence of ghosts to hunt. But really, he was bored. Bored, and his brain was starting to prickle with dread as calculus equations and handwritten paragraphs echoed sinisterly in the back of his mind. The image of the homework he’d left piled in his room loomed closer over the horizon. On top was the English paper Lancer had assigned him. 

He’d written two sentences for the paper’s intro before flying out his window to patrol. So far it was disappointing him. He’d found a wisp of a ghost bear rooting around in the Nasty Burger dumpster and an old granny who wasn’t bothering anybody except the park’s population of stray cats. It was getting uncomfortably more obvious that tonight his biggest responsibility was going to be his homework. 

Danny wrinkled his face. Figures, the one night he wanted a distraction, Amity decided it was time for peaceful quiet. 

Even though he knew he should be heading home he just kept walking along the wire. He folded his arms behind his head and kept an eye upward, hoping the clouds would break up. 

It was just on the edge of too cold. The drops that hit his shoulders and head were like needling icy fingers, prodding him to go home and take cover inside six warm walls. Leave the world to the rain to whom it belonged. He stuck his tongue out at the sky and pulled his phone out of his belt pouch. 

The cracked screen pulsed unhappily at him with aberrant colors. He tilted it forward, trying to shield it from the beads of water that rolled off it with bent light. There were no new messages from Sam, but Tucker was asking about that English assignment. Danny groaned and scrubbed his fingers through his hair in frustration. He knew what he should be doing, the universe knew what he should be doing, he’d cut off his toes and feed it to the resident ghost cats before he wrote one more word tonight. He locked his ankles together, drifting a little higher over the powerline while he texted back. 

“Hey, Ghost scum!” was his only warning before something exploded off to his left. The acid green light of ecto-based ammunition froze the rain in the air in a single flash. It competed and instantly won against the dim sky, lighting up the undersides of tree limbs and throwing everything into a sharp lime light. 

Danny automatically threw his hands over his face, then flew up, searching the ground through the spots in his vision for the interrupters. 

“Damn it, Mads, I missed him again,” came the only slightly quieter voice. Danny’s grin spread sharply when he spotted his mom and dad crouched behind some bushes. 

He floated tauntingly lower. “Hey, I was walking there. How’d you like it if I threw missiles at you when you were on an evening stroll?”

“I’d say you were showing off your true nature, ghost,” Jack cried, pointing a finger at him. The shiny black rubber of his gloves reflected the yellow globe of the streetlight that hummed, lonely in the rain. The single illumination of the deserted road. “An evil, mindless blob of ectoplasmic residue that’s grown too comfortable in the mortal plane.”

Danny hovered in place, daring on whatever happened next. “At least I’d be able to hit you, in that way I am pretty good.”

Maddy was scrambling to quickly reload the gun. It looked like pretty heavy artillery. It might be strong enough to blow him to pieces if the spots still dancing in his vision were anything to believe. Of course, it would have to hit him first. Lucky for him, it looked like it was going to take Maddy a while, and Danny had plenty of time to antagonize his parents. He floated lower, leaning back in the air and crossing his legs. “Don’t you two have somewhere better to be than out in the rain following an innocent ghost around?”

“No such thing,” Maddy hissed, still fighting over the guts of the big gun. 

“Menace to society you mean,” Jack shouted up.

Danny stuck his tongue out at them and raised his arms with limp wrists like the classic ghost. “Boo.”

“You won’t be saying boo when my wife reloads and splatters your ectoplasm– er,”

Maddy threw down her new rocket launcher in disgust. 

“No good, Mad’s?”

Danny looked on in utter delight as Maddie began riffling through the duffle bag at their feet. “I can’t get the damn thing to work with this rain.”

“My bad, Honey. In mark two, I’ll prioritize simplification and ease of use.”

“You can’t have everything in one gun, dear, your design is wonderful just as it is. Only a little tweaking I think.” Danny gagged overtop of them before they could get really sappy. They whipped back around, on guard again. Maddy stood up from the duffle bag this time with the net gun in her hands. She braced herself to fire. 

Danny sighed and shook his head. “You folks need to figure out when it’s time to pack up and save it for another day.” He accumulated a ball of ectoplasm between his fingers and lobbed it at Maddie’s feet. She dived to the side and came up on her knees. They locked eyes and she pulled the trigger. The net burst out with a puff of gunpowder. 

Danny flew to the side, but a corner of the net collided with his leg. The cords snapped around his boot, quickly tangling when he tried to shake it off. He grumbled, annoyed. But still, no problem. The cord was treated to be anti ghost so he couldn’t phase out, but he had a lot of energy humming in his chest that had gone unused all day long. He smiled grimly. So, they wanted to catch a ghost? This was going to be fun. He twisted around and propelled himself up above the treeline. Maddy yelped beneath him. He glanced back to see her feet were dragging in the ground and she was barely holding onto the gun over her head. He put on another burst of speed and her toes lifted off the ground. 

Jack leaped to grab it from her. He braced his feet and grunted with the strain of holding Danny earthward. She let him have it and ran back for the duffel bag. Danny wasn’t quite strong enough to lift Jack off his feet, not without phasing the big man partly out of the physical world. Danny soon found himself fighting just to stay in the air. 

Jack clung onto the rope doggedly. They both seemed pretty determined today to reel him in. No matter how he flew Jack was stubbornly holding on. As though he actually believed he and the phase-proof line could reassert the laws of gravity that Danny had gotten so used to ignoring. 

He was starting to feel a little too much like a toy kite for his liking. Careful to keep the line taut, he bent over his leg to tug at the tangled cords of the net. He was just starting to make progress, a pile of freed loops dropping to hang form his boot, when he heard a pop from below. An instant later a bolt screamed through his arm. He recoiled, grabbing his arm tight. 

The ectoplasm of his arm had been sheered away and hollowed out like a stick of butter in a microwave. Beads of ectoplasm rolled over the creases of his white gloves. 

Looked like Maddy had finally got the gun to work again.

“Hey,” he yelled down. “You missed my vital organs. For all the time you spend hunting me, I’d expect you’d at least be good at it!” He aimed down along the perfectly straight line drawn between him and his dad. As perfect as a math equation, from point a to point b. He didn’t even have to aim. 

Jack dropped backward, electric green smoldering in his orange jumpsuit. Danny buoyed up into the air, cord and gun and all. He would have gotten away then, and he was already thinking about what in hell he was going to write for his damned English paper. 

Maddy dropped the gun and leaped over Jack. She jumped for the cord before it could get away from her. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the gun, jerking Danny back down. She’d pulled something out of her jumpsuit. Danny saw the flash of the Fenton Ghost Taser™ an instant before she pressed it against the taut cord. 

Danny cried out. His body instantly seized up, all his muscles vibrating, making his teeth chatter together. The searing pain that traced the path of the electricity came as a secondary thunder clap. He dropped out of the air. 

He hit the first branches like a second shock. Thousands of tiny twigs crackled under his descent. As he traveled lower he hit branches that bent, then broke. He caught a glimpse of the ground. All scattered with brown, lance shaped leaves. Then he hit.

***

“Ow,” he groaned, pushing himself up. He batted bits of dead leaves out of his hair and suit, making sure he was all still there. He felt like his parents had hit him with the earth like a wrecking ball. He looked up, staggering a little with the tilt in perspective, up through the hole he’d smashed through the perfectly nice canopy the tree had been working on for who knew how long. Maybe he’d been the wrecking ball. 

He had to sit down a moment, his entire body felt burned and achy from the taser. He fished one spikey piece of branch out of the side of his boot. He’d taken bigger hits and farther falls, but when he couldn’t catch himself the stupid part of him still expected to die everytime. He looked up again, ignoring the ringing in his head. He’d fallen into a damn thick patch of alders and bushes— honestly amazing he’d found any flat hard ground to hit at all.

The phase-proof cord— one end still tangled around his leg, wandered off into the underbrush. He could hear his parents thrashing around in the distance. 

Danny quickly shook off his distraction and jammed his fingers into the knotted mess around his leg. He worked and pulled at the strands, brow furrowed into determined concentration. If he turned human he could slip out in an instant, but he didn’t want to risk one of his parents spotting it through the bushes. He kept glancing up to check how close they’d gotten before returning to the net. Of all the things, why did he not keep a knife on him? His parents had made a ghost thermos and laser lipstick. Why not a Fenton Knife™?

Their crashing was getting closer. He stubbornly kept his head down, focused on his scrambling fingers and ignoring the loud sounds of Jack and Maddy following the anti-ghost cord right to him. He just needed to figure out where it had gotten tangled. A careless movement reminded him of the hole seared into his arm. Oh, ow. He’d almost forgotten about that. 

There, he’d found an edge. He freed it from a few misplaced cords, then twisted it, wrapped it back, passed it under his leg, and finally he could pull his leg free. He kicked the limp coil of net away and climbed to his feet. He could see patches of orange jumpsuit through the trees now. He gritted his teeth, pushing down the temper he could feel rearing up. They didn’t know— no. They didn’t care. He’d turned into a ghost under their noses, in their own workshop, and they’d never even noticed. 

He tested his arm with a hand. He still could barely feel it but he could already tell it was going to hurt when he got home and slipped back into his human skin. He winced when his fingers came away green. 

Danny stepped up into the air, flickering out of the visible spectrum.

***

The drizzle was still hesitant to turn into an actual rain when Danny floated outside his home. The neon sign buzzed faintly, briefly illuminating the drops that fell from the sky green, as though it was raining ectoplasm. 

Carefully, Danny pulled open his window and slipped inside. He let go of his invisibility and dropped heavily to the floor. A blanket he’d kicked off the bed bunched uncomfortably under his back and elbow, and his boot was chewing up the pages of a book he’d left open in the middle of the room, but right now he didn’t care. 

He stared up at his ceiling, at the sickly plastic of his glow-in-the-dark stars. It wasn’t dark enough yet for them to light up. The drizzle patted softly against the roof, like the Fenton building was a strange and unusual cat it didn’t quite know how to stroke. His arm ached dreadfully but he ignored it. A glancing thought reminded him of the English paper he’d sworn he’d finish tonight. He turned over, squeezing his fingers into his torn up arm. He scowled into the dark shadows that clung to the floor of his room. He’d do it tomorrow.

***

He came out of a dull fog with something nudging his leg. He hissed and kicked at it, then groaned. He was so sore from the electricity that had pulsed  through ever fiber of muscle he owned. He cracked an eye open. It was dark. Rain shadows mottled the dim light from the neon sign outside that the window cast onto the floor beside him. The constant buzz of rain on the roof made him realize he was still cold and damp. He curled tighter into himself, closing his eyes to try and go back to sleep. Well, it had decided to rain after all.

Another nudge against his leg made him open his eyes in annoyance. It was a tiny blob ghost, apparently small enough to get past his parents' sensors and definitely too small to cause real trouble. It sat in a ball by his foot, gazing him down with softly glowing red eyes. 

“Shoo,” he said crossly. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Instead of going away, it drifted up closer to his face. It was certainly brazen in the face of a much stronger ghost. Danny drew himself up into a half crouch, unwilling to let even this mindless blob catch him down and out. “You should get going, you don’t want my parents to see you hanging around.” 

Instead of listening to him, the blob rolled up to his hand. The surface of its ectoplasm rippled and then it plopped up a wet wad of bandages. 

“Eeew, that’s gross.” But it did make Danny think to look at his injured arm. He grimaced. That gun was seriously concentrated. His arm was still hollowed out and dripping with green slime. He’d been slowly leaking as he slept and it had left a dark, wet spot on his twisted blanket that gleamed dully in the low light. “Shoot.”

The small blob made a tiny murmuring chirp. He looked back down at it and it nudged his hand. He’d never met a blob ghost so friendly. The ones he occasionally spotted in the house seemed peaceable enough, but he never let them get close. They were like fruit flies, they just appeared where their sustenance was. Normally they coalesced after fights, drawn to the spilled ectoplasm like ramora to sharks. Or maybe they were created by it. Who knows. They were skittish, unfriendly, and prone to hurting pets. He didn’t really know how to react to this one trying to cuddle up to him.

When its insistent bumps got no reaction, the blob instead snagged his sleeve. It bobbed up in the air, tugging him to stand up. 

Suddenly there was another blob. It floated out from under his bed and tugged on his pant leg, seemingly for the same purpose. 

Bemused, Danny stood. The room tilted. For a moment he couldn’t move except to sway on his legs. He almost jumped out of his skin when a third blob ghost appeared over his shoulder. It settled as solidly as a blob could on its perch and hummed and chirped in his ear. Its firm press reminded him of when his dad would clap him on the shoulder, his big warm hand a steadying weight. 

The blob ghosts were still tugging on his clothes. So, Danny obeyed. He tottered tiredly toward his bed. He made the bed every day, but the blob ghosts must have been rifling through his room before they woke him up because all the blankets were half off. 

Irritated, he fell into bed. He sighed as his pillow recieved his head with a puff. His ssense of gravity became even looser as the pillow cradled his skull. He might have been floating as unmoored as he felt. How he’d missed it. Did it seem poofier today or was he just really happy to be in bed?

He shivered at the cold sheets and shifted to curl into a ball, but the blob ghost was still holding onto his sleeve. He lifted his head to show a threatening row of teeth, but he didn’t have the energy for much else. He flared the energy of his core. It had never failed to to send blobs darting away like frightened mice. These ones didn’t.

The big one that had sat on his shoulder floated through the air, a long trail of white bandage fluttering beneath it like a tail. Danny was starting to be amused. At least this bandage wasn’t already sopping with ectoplasm. 

The big blob hovered over the bed, edging the bandage closer to his wound. He didn’t know how to tell these things that you were supposed to disinfect stuff first. Whatever, at least it would stop him from soaking the mattress. He could deal with things properly tomorrow. In the morning when he felt less like a dead boy barely filling in his human skin. Yeah, whenever that happened. 

***

He’d figured out how to scare them off the night he’d been following the trail of a giant, mutant ghost snake. He’d been chasing it for most of the night and the snake had left it’s mark on him and a large chunk of Amity Park. He’d been pretty sure it was dead but he didn’t want that one coming back to life to bite him in the ass. Again. 

He’d found it in an old alleyway, its coils half hidden by mounds of trash. The huge snake had stopped moving. It was losing clarity fast and its scales were melting into the broken asphalt. The ambient ectoplasm its blood had added to the air made a glowing haze over the alley. It was also swarming with blobs. Like busy ants they flocked from one wound to the next, soaking it in like sugar water. 

Danny had taken a step back, just like anyone who turned over a log and found it crawling with maggots. Danny blinked at them, squinting with one eye crusted half shut from the fight and the other rubbery with exhaustion. The way the blobs swarmed over the ghost’s corpse before it had even bled away out of their physical world made shivers prickle all over his shoulders. Slowly he backed away. He’d confirmed the snake wouldn’t be a threat anymore, his job was done. 

He’d intended to leave the scene and creep away to finally go home, when his leg gave out and he slipped on the pavement. all the milling pairs of red eyes snapped to him. They hissed like a multi-tongued hoard of snakes. Automatically, Danny flared his core. He’d gritted his teeth, staring them down, thinking very hard about how much bigger and fiercer he was, how easy to squish them and fight them off his prey. The hand in front of him gained an unnatural edge, like a glowing afterimage. All the ghosts immediately fled, abandoning their immense feast.

After that he’d never had much trouble with the smaller ghosts. It didn’t make sense that these ones weren’t bothered about it. 

Danny took the bandage from the bigger blob and pinched it to his arm, intending to wind it around with his teeth. Instead, the three blob ghosts seized it from him, letting him hold it in place while they passed it back and forth around his arm. Danny didn’t have to do anything before he was looking at a tidily wrapped bandage. He wasn’t even seeping through them yet. 

“Thank you.” Uneasily he settled back onto his pillow, warily watching the blobs flit around like alien lights through half closed eyes.

The blob ghosts drifted like flotsam, their cool glow sliding over his freezing sheets to the glistening wood of his bedpost, then back again to bead on the dark wetness he’d spread on the floor and under his dry eyelids. His sight blurred and he realized again how tired he was, but now he’d been roused twice. He couldn’t relax with the huge, cold night huddling in the space of his bedroom. Especially not with the strange ghosts, mindless and helpful though they seemed to be.

The blobs didn’t seem to realize. They briefly floated down out of sight then reappeared holding up a blanket between them. As gently and softly as could be, they drew it over him. Two of them churred soothingly and patted the blanket around him as though they were trying to tuck him in. Danny wanted to laugh but instead he found himself sinking into his pillow, eyes blinking shut. After all, why shoo them off, he could defend himself from a couple of blobs. He yawned broadly. The third blob ghost drifted down to alight on his forehead, unexpectedly similar to the softness of a cool hand against a fever. Danny sighed and let it stay there. He already felt warmth spreading over him from the blankets, he was afraid to move or it would go away. 

The other blob ghosts settled onto his blanket around his legs. Their light dimmed as though they were going to sleep. He finally relaxed enough for the transformation to slip over his head and down his legs. He shivered furiously for a moment, like the first steps out of a cold pool where he’d acclimated to a chill sort-of-comfort and then into biting wind. Before long real warmth stole over him. 

The blob resting on his forehead began to hum. Even through his sleep drenched brain he recognised it. It was a silly song that his parents had liked and turned into a lullaby, just like every parent does. Whenever this one came onto the radio Danny was jolted back to when he was a kid and soothed into a warm bed on a close and sleepy evening. When he was a kid he’d practically vibrated with too much energy. When he couldn’t sleep Maddie would hold him wrapped in a blanket in her lap, singing that song and rocking back and forth, sometimes flubbing and making up her own words.

They needed the lullaby a lot when he was a kid. Some nights it was the only way to keep him in bed. It was a song for a too long road trip when he’d sent the entire car into seismic shifts from his carseat while the windshield wipers worked madly and Jazz was yelling at him for kicking her seat. The song was for a hospital visit where the cold room and unfamiliar walls was more disturbing than the pain in his broken arm. In the past it had never failed to lull him to sleep.

Somehow he hadn’t heard it in a long time. He didn’t miss it, it was just one of those things you naturally left behind as time passed. He wasn’t a baby anymore and Maddie didn’t need to sing it to get him to shut up for five seconds. He didn’t even remember the funny words she’d made up for it. His eyes drifted closed as he tried to mumble them and somehow dredge them up from deep in his mind. He’d almost completely forgotten it. He wondered where this blob had picked it up.

All the wondering he could do ran away from him quickly. His consciousness spun out like a ball of yarn leading him to sleep. The tune dropped him back into those years of falling asleep with his mom’s cheek next to his and finally his brain stopped thinking and let him drift off into deep dreamless sleep.

***

Jack and Maddie came home in the stillness of the hour between night and morning. It had stopped raining but they were drenched and stuck all over with orange pineneedles and other forest detritus. They were tired and trudged heavily through the door, not wanting to wake anyone up. There were twigs and leaves in Jack’s hair and a spray of thorns caught in the weave of Maddie’s suit. She smiled working it free but there was no real mirth behind it. Just tiredness.

They’d found no ghost in their net. But they’d been so sure a ghost couldn’t escape it, and a hit from Maddie’s new gun, on top of a shock from the Fenton Taser™ without being seriously damaged and power drained. So they’d combed the area again. They’d found not a sign of the ghost. They supposed that they’d never know until the next dogfight if that one had survived or had dissolved into whatever aether the scraps of human consciousness were bound for. 

They dumped their tangled and scraped up gear in a pile. Neither of them said anything. Without a word they left it there and took the stairs. Jack looked at the back of his wife’s neck. He might not be good at reading people but he’d known her long enough. All these ghosts were fascinating, they’d never had more work. But the rest of Amity didn’t exactly agree with their glee. Some nights the sheer amount of ghostly activity was overwhelming. And they were strong enough to be actually capable of real property damage! Who knew what else. The sooner they could stuff these spooks back where they came from the better. But this wasn’t what was bothering Maddy. Jack knew the problem that was puzzling her now was Danny. It was frustrating. Life would be so much easier if people could just say what they were thinking.

If only he could figure out the problem. 

Again, without words, they stopped in front of Danny’s door. Dread was boiling in Maddie’s stomach, there’d been so many nights she’d known he’d snuck out. Some nights he just never came home. Jack’s large arm reached past her to press against the door. He eased it open with both hands, For once he payed special attention to not bump anything thoughtlessly. Danny’s room was dark, the only light inside came from the warm stripes that escaped from the hallway lamp around their legs and the dim stick on stars that littered the ceiling. It was messy, as usual. Leaves of homework were layered over his desk and books lay open all over the floor. Drifts of clothes made sedimentary layers in the corners of the room. Jack couldn’t help his well of fondness at the sight. Danny was a still form on the bed. Silent asleep, as he should be. 

Jack sniffed, was the ectoplasm smell stronger here? He glanced around briefly; bed, desk, floor— then shrugged. It was everywhere in the house. It was their fault really, always mixing work and family life.  

Jack looked down and realized neither of them had pushed one toe over the carpet line into his room. It was just as good as a wall. 

Maddie’s mouth worked as though she was chewing over a mouthful of words that needed to be said, no matter how silently. She finally whispered. “Good night, Danny.”

And then they left as carefully as they had come. 

[ghostlyglimmer]

Newest Chapter of The Fun Zone is out now!

Here's an illustration to go with it! The blob ghosts LOVE the ball pit!

[nenoname]

.....i've been seeing a bunch of drag queen stan art but i'm constantly wanting to draw stan cosplaying the duchess

[kalpalatas]

I know I asked about the one but I just reread the list and saw the words "baby acquisition" so now I need to ask again-

BABY ACQUISITION? SPILL

(wip ask meme!)

let me introduce my favourite OC in this fandom so far....Hirano Akika, who has one dad's eyes and her other dad's extremely persuasive pout. her eyes are her most distinctive feature because her face is 80% cheek fat.

(she's not related to kagi biologically i just believe the pout is a learned skill)

( @justahungrydango named her. the kanji are apparently very cutely related to hirano's own. i can't read japanese i just thought kika-chan is too cute a name to let go of)

her backstory is that she's technically hirano's second cousin...? her bio mom kind of took off and her bio dad died in a car accident and hirano's mom left her in his care while she tracked down her niece to make her take responsibility for her kid. long story short hirano adopts her as his own instead, and later kagi when they get married. they take the hirano last name so kika-chan doesn't have to go through her THIRD government name in her eighteen months of existence.

it's really a very silly au i daydream about when i'm bored. i have her whole life mapped out until she's like 30. i've been making friends tell me about their baby niblings so i can track her growth through the story better. a part of hirano's angst™ is about how he's her dad for all intents and purposes but also not because he's just taking care of her in the meantime right? anyway the result is she calls kagi "papa" readily and it takes months to make her stop calling hirano "tai" during interviews with the government worker sjfhfffh

(i did. an absurd amount of research into japanese adoption procedures for this fic. then went "wait. this isn't real" and abandoned all of that lol)

anyway. snippet below is kagi's first meeting with the little blob.

Kagiura stood stock still in the middle of Hirano's living room, shoulders drawn up, having some sort of staring contest with the baby. She had already lost the challenge a few minutes before, but Kagiura wasn't backing down.

Hirano saw the tell-tale shakiness of his irises, and smacked his shoulder gently with the back of his hand.

"Oi," he called. "Kagi-kun."

Kagiura swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, but didn't acknowledge him otherwise.

Hirano sighed. "Akira," he called, "c'mon, man."

"Is she yours?" Kagiura whispered finally.

"What? No!" A treacherous bubble of laughter lodged in Hirano's throat. Seriously, Kagi-kun. "Where would I even-- ? She's my cousin's."

"Oh," Kagiura said faintly. "She has your eyes."

"Well, yeah." Hirano walked to the sofa and picked the baby up. "We're related. She's got my grandmother's eyes."

"Guh!" the baby agreed.

Kagiura deflated, the tension leaving his body in one big exhale. He lurched forward to drop his head on Hirano's shoulder, breathing him in.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, nosing closer to his boyfriend's neck. "I don't know what came over me."

Hirano pressed a kiss to his hair, the giggle finally bursting out of his mouth. "It's alright, you big baby." He shrugged his shoulder, jostling Kagiura's head. "Now get up and let me introduce you properly."