#spwrites

[saintpavlov]

he doesn't mean to make you sad, you know that. it's just that, when atsumu's upset it becomes everyone's problem—yours especially.

you don't know how it starts. atsumu had been bouncing off the walls just a moment ago, drunk off of booze and the afterglow of victory. you don't know which one of his teammates had invited her to the after-party, just that right now, you can't help but hate them.

it's just for a second, but you catch it. the way his eyes immediately dim, how his hand falters around yours. you don't want to jump to conclusions, but it's obvious—atsumu's in love with her. painfully so.

he drops your hand as if burnt and turns away, letting himself be carried off into another conversation. atsumu laughs loud enough to be heard over the music, a deafening house mix that thuds through your chest like a second heartbeat. anyone else might not spare him a second glance, but you know that when atsumu laughs that loud there's something he's trying to hide. then, as if remembering that you're still there, atsumu turns over his shoulder. you answer before he can ask the question.

"no no, go ahead. go have fun!"

atsumu tilts his head, though you know he's only asking to be polite. "are you sure?"

you smile. "no worries."

it's a bold-faced lie, but atsumu's never been that good at paying attention. he returns your smile with an excited nod, letting himself be led away by the shoulders. "don't go anywhere!" he shouts, though you know later on he'll forget to come find you. that's the way it always is. always has been.

you nurse your drink against your chest—water, you don't have the stomach tonight—and try to look on the bright side, if there is one. atsumu had been the one to invite you, hadn't he? and though you're still "just friends", he'd held your hand earlier, so that has to count for something, right?

it's useless. you down your water in one go, figuring that if you treat it like alcohol it might work like it is. it doesn't, and now you're alone at this party with an empty cup and an even emptier hand.

you sigh and snake your way out of the kitchen, making your way up the stairs to the first door that opens. the upstairs is off-limits, but you hope that whoever owns this room is drunk enough to be forgiving. you don't even bother to turn on the lights, and instead flop backwards onto the bed. you feel the music downstairs rather than hearing it, a steady thump-thump-thump that shakes through you from head to toe.

you close your eyes, trying very hard not to think about atsumu and the girl he's still in love with downstairs. it's not your place to be bothered, that you know, but something in your chest still aches at the thought. you've loved atsumu since before he met her, after all. it's a shame he hasn't noticed. or maybe he's not noticing on purpose, which is considerably worse.

"woe is me," you say to no one, your voice biting with sarcasm. you're not shocked at how things are turning out, moreso that you thought it'd turn out any differently. with a sigh, you close your eyes. atsumu will find you eventually. and if he doesn't, then someone else will. you'd rather be cursed at for trespassing than anywhere downstairs, faking a smile as you wait for atsumu like a well-trained dog. at least here you can lick your wounds in private.

you don't know how much time has passed when you feel something press into your side, warm and solid. arms wrap around you: one slung over your waist, the other snaking its way under your head. you turn in confusion, seeing nothing in the dark.

whoever's holding you down reeks heavily of liquor, and their arm feels like a dead weight around you. when you try to pull it off they hold onto you tighter, mumbling something incoherent under their breath. "um, hey," you say loudly, voice hoarse with sleep. "get off of me."

the person beside you stirs, and the bed dips slightly as they prop themselves up. they mumble your name under their breath, and in the dark you can make out the vague outline of a face.

with a start, you realize you recognize that voice. "...osamu?"

he lies back down, bringing you along with him. "h-hey," you start to protest, but osamu's grip grows stronger in response.

"don't leave," he mumbles, as you try to sit up.

"but—"

"m'head hurts. shhh." osamu shushes you, curling up against your side. his hair tickles the side of your reddening cheek.

"hey, osamu." you try to move out from under his arm again, to no avail. "you're really drunk."

"and?" he counters, pulling you closer, almost possessively. "just pretend for a little while."

that catches you off guard. "pretend?"

"it's dark, so it's easier," osamu refuses to elaborate. "c'mon. it's my birthday."

"osamu, your birthday's in october."

"is it?" there's an uncharacteristic cheekiness to osamu's voice, one that makes you turn your head towards him in surprise. you can't see him, but you can tell from the warmth that his face is only inches away. "well it's somebody's birthday, somewhere."

something touches your cheek—osamu's hand? no, his face. somewhere near his chin, guessing by the stubble that scratches your skin. "just do me a favor and pretend i'm him," osamu says, and in that moment he sounds scarily sober.

"wh-what?" you can't help the way your mouth hangs open at the request, your stomach feeling like it's about to drop out of you.

"you heard me," osamu mumbles, back to being drunk again. "pretend i'm him. you know what i mean."

"you—what—that's not—"

"am i wrong?" osamu presses, raising his voice like he's imitating his brother. it works. osamu's fingers trace across your face, reading the shock on your face like braille. you turn your head and press your nose to his neck—no cologne, only the soft smell of skin. it can't be atsumu, but for a moment, you're fooled.

osamu tilts his head and sighs, slow and sweet. and when his lips brush your forehead, it's like everything you've ever dreamed. "i'm right," he breathes, nestling his head against your shoulder. it's not a question anymore, but a fact. "i'm right," he sing-songs, still painfully drunk.

"osamu—"

a hand covers your mouth, warm and firm. softer than atsumu's, and just a bit bigger. "don't say my name like that," he whispers, his voice hot against the shell of your ear, "say it the way you say his."

you swallow an audible gulp. "osa—osamu?" you try again.

osamu shakes his head. needy hands pull you in by the waist. you feel osamu's lips kiss up the side of your neck. "not like that," he murmurs.

"o-osa...mu..." you're breathless and dizzy. you feel osamu's smile against the underside of your jaw.

"better," he grins, and this time, his lips find yours.

it ends before you can even react. osamu pulls away with a shaky exhale, as if he's slowly waking from a dream. his eyes shine back at you in the dark, wide and unblinking.

he opens his mouth to speak. "i—"

"you're drunk," you say immediately, and push him away by the chest.

osamu doesn't let you. he brings his hands over yours and keeps them there, and under the thin cotton of his shirt you feel his heart beating rabbit-fast. "so? i'll still want you when i'm sober."

his words choke your own out of your throat. "osamu...i can't—"

"so don't. don't do anything. just stay the night." there's a desperation in his words that makes your stomach flip. osamu holds onto you like he's afraid to let go. "please."

it's late, and you're tired. atsumu's in love with someone that isn't you, but osamu's arms are warm enough to make you forget. you think to yourself: is it selfish if he's willing? are you cruel for wanting to pretend?

you wrap your arms around his neck and osamu relaxes, melting into you the same way butter does on toast. he's soft, comforting. familiar, but not the same. osamu's lips brush on your neck again and the impact shudders through your spine like electricity. he takes his hands and rubs them over your arms, thinking that you're cold. you don't want to tell him that in reality you're burning up, feeling hot everywhere he touches.

"thank you," osamu murmurs into your hair.

"for what?"

"stayin'."

and when osamu kisses you a second time, you don't have the heart to push him away.

[serpercival]

I've been working on an anthology style fic about Time Lord biology for the longest time now, but I've unfortunately been stuck on a chapter for ages. I really like what I have so far and am eager to introduce it to people, so I'm sharing some little excerpts to motivate myself :)

Honestly, just once, he’d like to go to a planet that didn’t look like a quarry or have creatures that had evolved to look like bubble wrap and foam. Where was the advantage in that? It would only get you popped, sooner or later.

Harry, flustered, pointed at the Doctor. “He doesn’t even have lungs, you know.”

“Why did you stop doing the… you know,” Sarah said, making a vague motion with her hand. “Ha-cha, that sort of thing.” “Venusian Ai-kido,” the Doctor supplied. For a moment Sarah could hear the other Doctor in his cadence, understood that he was still the same man. Then he flopped around gracelessly like a rather scarfy fish out of water to lay on his back and the moment was gone.

It was impressive, the way he made himself seem like the authority on all things True while he was dressed in that outfit and sitting on the ground next to a tin dog.

“You only talk like a thesaurus in a washing machine when you’re trying to distract someone,” Peri argued.

“If it’s an… alien thing, I won’t judge,” Bill said. “I’ve got a crush on a puddle.”

Hopefully I'll be able to write more of this now...

[jackdraw-spwrite]

Day 03 - Black Cat

I confess, sometimes I think what if Danny were a cat. And then I think that he would be very small and very fluffy, given how very unruly his hair is.

Anyway, have some skrunkly kitten Dannys, and of course the required lost time:

He's just a tiny little soot poof of a kitten...

[jackdaw-sprite]

I have an infestation in my brain

[fascinatedscrawls]

Phic Phight Prompt: Clockwork Takes Danny Stargazing

Word Count: 1320

For @jackdaw-spwrite

Summary: When Danny agreed to put effort into his study habits in exchange for some out of this world stargazing, this isn't what he imagined. It's so much better.

"This way."

Danny meant to follow Clockwork and his directions, but when he followed him through one of the many doors in the older ghost's domain he felt himself stop short mid-flight.

Unexpected sights, sounds, and scents flooded in - tall trees with shiny bronze bark and almost clear leaves that rippled like water, thorny bushes that looked wild as they rustled only to fall into and out of almost recognizable shapes, little rivers and ponds splashing with something more orange than blue. The last might be due to the ceiling, or rather, the startling lack of one.

That might be the strangest thing of all because Danny could swear that they were walking further in to Clockwork's maze of a home.

A home that was firmly in the green and purple tinged Ghost Zone.

The ghost zone which didn't have red-orange sunsets like the one lighting the garden and the sky above it.

A quiet thunk of something hollow against a rock drew Danny out of his distraction with only a small, guilty startle. The garden wasn't large enough that he'd lost sight of Clockwork, thankfully, so it was a quick, short flight that brought him back to the cloaked ghost's side.

Growing older in a way that felt pointed, especially when paired with that knowing smile, Clockwork tapped the large round paver that sat below them. It bisected two curved spaces whose complete outline looked like an hourglass with each half filled with a different set of plants.

Danny thought he recognized maybe three of the flowers he saw growing in both and even that was a generous assumption. He wasn't even sure if that thing filling with water until it tipped over before setting back into place with a thunk was even made of bamboo like the one Jazz had in miniature in her room (she claimed it was for meditation, but how something slowly tapping away could help someone concentrate was beyond Danny) - it was electric blue with silvery edges.

"You know, when you promised to take me stargazing this isn't what I imagined." Danny pointed out looking back up at the cloudless and, more importantly, starless sky before raising his brows at Clockwork expectantly. He didn't do all that studying, listening to lectures and letting himself be quizzed on the different leaders of the Infinite Realms for nothing. Clockwork bribed him with some 'out of this world' stargazing and Danny was going to hold him to it.

Though, he had to admit, the garden was pretty cool. He would need to see if he could get some pictures or something for Sam so she didn't interrogate him later for more information.

Well, she'll probably do that either way, but with pictures she might feel generous enough to let him eat and sleep occasionally while grilling him for answers.

The not-bamboo thunked again and Clockwork gave the paver another tap.

"Be sure to stay within the circle."

Because Clockwork was sometimes (frequently) allergic to explaining, that was all the warning Danny received before the colorful garden vanished into inky darkness.

Danny held still, straining his eyes to try and make out the shape of the paver below them. If this was another test instead of a reward he may just scream. A quiet scream, but a scream none the less.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for his eyes to adjust - Clockwork's faint glow along with his own even more muted shine eventually assured him that he hadn't moved. If that was a test, hopefully he passed.

Putting that aside for now Danny looked up and felt his jaw drop because the garden wasn't just in shadow.

It was gone.

In its place was a vast array of stars, the pinpricks of light almost flickering through a bright fog - clearer than any view he's ever seen on Earth. He squinted as he tried to differentiate the brighter lights from the dark, trying to pick out planets and stars that he knew, his brow furrowing as he couldn't quite manage to place any of the clusters he was seeing.

"Where are we?" How far was Clockwork able to take them? What kind of power was this? Could Danny do something like this?

Oh, no, wait. Danny didn't want a power like this because he was sure it would leave him stranded light-years from home without anyone to help him get back. Well, except for Clockwork. The minor reassurance was enough even if the fear lingered a little longer than he'd like in the face of this cosmic beauty.

"Closer to home than you might think." The ghost in question assured him, flickering into his more childlike form before pointing behind Danny. "If you turn around you may find something a bit more familiar."

Spinning in place Danny squinted even harder at the distant stars as clouds of gas and dust shifted slowly between him and them.

Except the clouds weren't moving slowly anymore. As he watched they started moving faster and faster, going from indistinct fog to thicker streams and threads then swirling into knots until an indistinct shape started to appear. Around them distant stars winked, flickered, and died while others newly sparked into being.

Light grew at the center of the undulating clouds, particles moving inwards before bursting out again and again.

"No way." All the stars around them paled in comparison to what he now suspected was happening. Danny didn't even realize he was drifting forward until a light hand landed on his shoulder.

"We are currently in two times while also being in neither." Clockwork informed him, unoffended by the way Danny couldn't look away from the star - the earth's star - his star - the Sun - as it formed. "I do not want to test which one you would find yourself in if you left."

One hand moving to cover Clockwork's, Danny couldn't find the words to tell him that leaving was the last thing he wanted to do right now. How he was glad his eyeballs couldn't dry out so he didn't have to blink, that he didn't have to worry about oxygen or radiation, that this might be the first time he was truly happy he got in that lab accident because without it he would never get a chance to see this.

Because Danny loved the stars, the light they provided, the life they could support, the hope they could bring. He loved every one of them.

And no other star ever loved him back more than this one, Danny was sure of it.

His vision blurred and he blinked away the water gathering there as he tightened his grip on those increasingly knobby fingers.

"Thank you."

That ghostly hand was cold, but the gentle squeeze Clockwork gave him in response was warm and fond.

"Worth memorizing the whole lineage of Royal Roses?"

Danny barked out a laugh at the now distant frustration he'd felt while going through fourteen generations of people who were minor players in the Ghost Zone at best.

"Absolutely." Danny tried to devote at least the same amount of attention to memorizing the play of light on the gasses and rocks around them. "Though I'm not sure how you'll ever top this as far as bribes go."

Clockwork hummed.

"There are plenty more stars to gaze upon." Something thunked, not his staff but the not-bamboo thing, reminding Danny just how accessible the stars might be when they were visible like this from Clockwork's garden. Smugly, Clockwork continued, "And when you get bored of stars, there's always planets."

Danny's scoff at the thought of being 'bored of stars' cut off as he whipped around to see if Clockwork was joking. Judging by the tilt of his head he wasn't and, yeah, alright. Turning back to stare at his favorite star once again, Danny resigned himself to being Clockwork's best student.

He'd do a lot to see something like this again.

[lycansprites]

"The one thing they leave out when they say to be yourself is what the hell to do with all of that rage"

-Different Constellations, Dalton Deschain & the Traveling Show

[trinoxtrinox]

Time for some Lost Time quality time XD

I tried to color this in pastel colors, however in the middle of it I learned that I don't know how to do pastel colors not what they actually are, so here it this this piece with the classic white outline that has no shadows. I still loved coloring this whole thing though, so many thanks to @jackdraw-spwrite for making this Lineart, it's absolutely beautiful and I loved coloring this :D

[ashspecter]

Phic Phight 2024 Master Post;

I participated in Phic Phight this year on Team Ghost!

Please see the links to all my fics below.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Once you click on a fic, please read the tags! Some themes may not be suitable for some. Trigger Warnings are provided.

Total Words: 62k+

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ONE

@pennerjones's prompt: Clockwork tends Pariah Dark’s wounds after a hard battle.

All We Wanted (CW patches up PD's wounds) || Tumblr; Ao3

TW: needles, wounds, etc.

TWO

@ashesoriley & @underforeversgrace's prompts: A look through Mr lancers eyes as he tries to figure out what's up with the Fenton kid (&) Lancer notices Something is up with the Fenton kid and intervenes.

Didn't You Know (Mr. Lancer Helps Danny) || Tumblr; Ao3

THREE

@lavendarlily's prompt: Who knew Danny Fenton was so agile? Paulina makes it her personal mission to get him on the cheer squad.

Gonna Make You a Star (Cheer AU) || Tumblr; Ao3

FOUR

@aggressivelyclueless's prompt: Backstory: pick your favorite ghost and flesh out their history a little. How did they die? What do they miss most about being alive?

All Boxed Up (Crack fic about BG's death) || Tumblr

TW: character death

FIVE

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme and @bellsandmischief's prompts: Danny is a merperson who has always been fascinated by humans (&) Danny, but make it Disney prince/princess.

The Little Phintom (Mer AU) || Tumblr; Ao3

TW: Dark Magic, Body "Horror" (Danny gets legs), Body Modification

SIX

@duchi-nesten's prompt: Danny’s been enjoying spending time with Nocturn lately, even with the unfortunate side effect of his skin being replaced by stars. That’s… probably fine, right?

Becoming (Mentor Nocturn AU) || Tumblr; Ao3

TW: Body Horror, Body Modification

SEVEN

@fangirlwriting-stories, @xscarletsakurax, @summerssixecho, @46-reasonable-hamsters, & @ikiracake prompts (I'm not going to post the prompts here lol):

I'll Be Your Hero (No One Knows Except Dash AU) || Tumblr; Ao3

EIGHT

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme and @bellsandmischief's prompts: Danny is a merperson who has always been fascinated by humans (&) Danny, but make it Disney prince/princess.

J.O.Y. (Just One Yesterday) (Vlad Time Travels) || Tumblr; Ao3

TW: False Hope

NINE

@currentlylurking & @duchi-nesten's prompt: Nobody really knew anything about how the Ghost King was determined, but that didn’t change how sure they were that Danny Phantom would be the next king. It didn’t change how wrong they were, either. (&) Who knew being the ghost king included having to hold a tea party for all the still-existing, previous ghost kings? Surely not Danny.

Peace of Mind (Ghost King Danny) || Tumblr; Ao3

TEN

@jackdraw-spwrite & @ave-aria's prompts: There are more rooms in Clockwork's lair, Danny thinks, than he could find in a week of looking. So he opens doors, flies through windows. Explores. Clockwork lets him, and that means he can't get in too much trouble doing it, right? (&) "Someone once told me you can bring a person back to life just by remembering them."

A Haunting Melody (CW has a painful secret) || Ao3

TW: Implied Child Loss

ELEVEN

Chrysanthemum, @sidewalkgloom, @scarletsaphire, @hannahmanderr, @ghostlyhabato's prompts (I'm not going to post the prompts here either lol):

Boundaries & Baggage (CW has a curious past with PD) || Ao3

TWELVE

Dekalkomania, @kinglazrus, Saphir, @raaorqtpbpdy, @TourettesDog, @littlebadger, @fangirlwriting-stories, Lumi, @fentoaster, Ghxstkids, & @Anguished-Lurker's prompts (not posting prompts here):

Lightning In a Bottle (Danny is dying slowly) || Ao3

TW: Heavy Angst, Anxiety, Trauma, Abandonment, Character Death

THIRTEEN

@aggressivelyClueless & @bloggerspam's prompts: "Backstory: pick your favorite ghost and flesh out their history a little. How did they die? What do they miss most about being alive?" (&) Danny and Ellie Parent Trap a Fighting/Divorced Johnny and Kitty:

Fate Deals In Bad Luck || Tumblr; Ao3

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If links are broken or incorrect, please let me know! I'll fix them right away!

[raaorqtpbpdy]

The Westons out West

The Weston Family had lived in the town of Amity for some time when the Fentons moved there. And even for strangers, those Fentons sure were strange.

For the prompt Old/Wild West AU [from @jackdraw-spwrite]

Read also on AO3

[Warning for mentions of guns]

Wes Weston worked at the general store. His father was a salesman, but that alone didn't keep food on the table, so he and his brothers all had to pitch in their dues. His eldest brother Easton did some bookkeeping for the local businesses, and his older twin Kyle was a stable-hand. And even between the four of them their mother still had to play piano in the saloon for tips from time-to-time.

Still, as lean as times were in the West, it had been worse back home.

When they'd first moved out here, looking for opportunity and a little sunshine after the dreary days behind them, they couldn't tell the difference between a cowhand and a homesteader, but that time was past. This little western town of Amity was home now. Barely scrape by, though they did.

A lot of folks came through the general store, locals and and strangers alike. Some came in weekly to resupply their cupboards, and others stopped by on their way through town to somewhere else to pick up a bag of horse feed, a bottle of whiskey, and some chewing tobacco before moving on. Working there, Wes had come to recognize a lot of familiar faces, and seen twice as many strangers, but none were so strange as the kid.

Wes eyed the kid from the moment he walked through the door, hair as black as night and ice-blue eyes that shone with secrets. Truth be told, he and Wes couldn't have been too far apart in age, but if Wes was a kid, then so was he. He smiled at Wes, the kid did, with teeth too white and far too sharp, and asked if they happened to sell any kind of chocolate.

"Sometimes merchants come up from Mexico with some to sell to us, but we haven't got any in stock right now," Wes told him.

The kid clicked his tongue. "Shame. Ma was planning on making some fudge to greet the new neighbors."

"You just moved to Amity?" Wes asked.

"Yep," the kid confirmed. "Name's Danny Fenton. My family just moved out here for a little more open space."

"A little more open space?" Wes repeated, unconvinced.

Danny smiled again, that too bright, too clean smile. "I never got your name," he said.

"Wes," he replied. "My family's lived around here for some time. I'm sure you'll recognize them out and about. Every redhead in town is a Weston."

Danny barked a laugh. "Not anymore," he said, and then he left, without even looking around, let alone buying anything.

Everyone became aware of the Fenton Newcomers almost overnight, but none was more aware than Wesley Weston.

He knew he was a curious boy—some said he was too curious for his own good—but he was a clever boy, too, and he knew when something was going amiss in his town, and right under his nose. He'd kept one eye on them, and especially Danny since they'd first moved into town, spotting right away that something was off about them.

On the surface, they looked alright. Jack Fenton was a mountain of a man, with an affinity for orange and holster on his hip that housed a pistol like no gun Wes had ever seen. His wife, Maddie, wore her skirt hiked up well above the ankles in a scandalous style that gave a lot of men around town the wrong idea about her. She set them straight right quick, though. The two of them claimed to be scientists, and spent all their time holed up in their house, rarely showing their faces to the rest of the town.

Their daughter, Jazz, was a proper, well-read young lady. She tied her hair back in a long braid, and wore her skirt at a much more appropriate length than her mother. She could usually be seen carrying a book, and the mayor had quickly offered her a position as a school teacher, as the town had been wanting for one since the last was taken by fever. She accepted, though she claimed it was only to keep her out of the house most of the day. Both her and her mother had bright red hair, which explained Danny's rather cryptic response to Wes when they first met.

Danny, their son, well he was the queerest of them all. He carried no gun, which was odd, but not unheard of given his age of only fourteen, though Wes had carried one since he was thirteen to scare off rowdy customers at the store. Danny had a strange quality about him, and strange behaviors, and the more Wes watched him, the more certain he became that Danny Fenton was no ordinary boy.

It was about a month after the Fentons first came to town that the first specter followed. A shadowy figure in a white get-up and a black hat, who carried himself like a lawman, and looked like bad news. Wes knew right away that he was a ghost. He knew by the faint glow of his pale skin, the shine of his eyes, and the hiss in his voice, like he'd swallowed a live rattlesnake, and it was still rattling around.

When asked, he said his name was Walker, and he was looking for an outlaw who called himself Phantom.

No one in town had ever heard of someone called Phantom, and the description of a boy with white hair and dark clothes didn't match anyone they knew.

Then at high noon a boy came down from the sky. His clothes were black. Cloud-white hair poked out from under his stetson, and a black bandana was pulled up over the bottom half of his face. Everyone was so shocked at seeing him come out of the sky like an angel from heaven that Wes was the only one that noticed he carried no gun.

Neither he, nor Walker said a single word as they stared each other down.

Walker's knuckles cracked as he positioned his hand over his holster, and Phantom's eyes shone a bright and glowing green like no one in Amity Park had even seen before.

Walker drew, but Phantom was quicker. A green beam shot out of Phantom's finger and hit Walker's shooting hand, knocking his gun to to floor. Then, Phantom hurled something metal at the other ghost that crackled like lightning, and when the light faded, Walker was gone.

The only sound was the rustle of wind and the clink of Phantom's spurs as he walked to where Walker had once stood to pick up the tin canteen. He bent over, gathered up the canteen and Walker's dropped gun, and when he drew himself back up to his full height, which couldn't have been more than five foot two, he disappeared. Vanishing in broad daylight, in full view of a dozen people.

Wes couldn't be sure of anything, but a theory formed in his head after that day. A theory about the strange ghost boy that flew into town before mysteriously vanishing... and the strange human boy that had moved into town not long before.

When they were younger, driving their wagon out west, Wes and Kyle would around the fire while their older brother Easton told them scary stories. They didn't know where Easton had learned them all, but he knew a lot. He told stories about death coming round in a carriage collecting lost souls, about vampires that lured people in to drink their blood, about monsters that skulked across the prairie. But Wes' favorite stories were the ones about ghosts.

Easton, it had always seemed, knew everything there was to know about ghosts. Whatever questions Wes asked him, he was always quick to answer.

That had been years ago now, but Wes had one more question for him.

"Easton," he asked one evening after dinner when they were all fixing to sleep. "You remember all those ghost stories you used to tell us, way back when?"

"'Course, Wes," Easton said. "What about 'em?"

"Do you think there could ever be a person who was a ghost, even though they were still alive?"

Easton paused at that, his face a mask of concentration as he considered the question.

Kyle scoffed. "There can't be anyone like that because ghosts plain don't exist. Those were just stories Easton told us, nothin' more." he said, but his brothers ignored him.

"I reckon I don't know," Easton said finally. "Could be, but I've never heard of something like that before."

Wes nodded mutely and went to bed.

After a few months of continued watching, a few more ghosts riding into town to challenge the unknown Phantom to a duel and quickly lose, though Phantom carried no gun, a few sleepless nights to skulk around and search for proof, Wes was sure of it.

Danny Fenton and the Phantom were one and the same.

[battle-subway-ghost]

I miwght just comwe to the picnic mwr pawwris and give youwr rwats a gentle pwat owo

Mr Spwrite put up wehere it was on the intewnret so silly!!

You realize there's going to be other people there? You wouldn't be allowed anywhere near even if you tried.

[ladybuvelle]

// *cracks my hands in 50 different places*

I need to get some writing in. Time to reblog THE prompt.

[saintpavlov]

masterlist

under construction. bear with me lol

osamu x reader drabble

[serpercival]

Why are Harry and Four such awkward little bastards. Kiss already. I'm the one writing you, you should really be more cooperative.

[jackdraw-spwrite]

Day 5 - Hunt

I've never drawn Skulker before, so I figured this would be a good opportunity :)

[jackdaw-sprite]

I'm still obsessed with him

look at him, small enough to use the crown as a bed

he's so shaped

he can be a worm

he can be a cat

(reference)

adorable or vicious or adorably vicious

(reference)

maybe when he's happy he does the banana pose like seals do

(reference)

One thing is for sure, though:

I want to roll him out like cookie dough.

and bake him.

[lycansprites]

I just think that you should be able to die non-permanently and without physical consequence. Emphasis on physical because mental consequence is fair game, what's a little death without coming back a little wrong