#ghosts head canons

[moo9395]

I’ve been having thoughts (always dangerous)

Fanny Button Alloaro??

Think about it, she conducted that affair with Humphrey’s body who, to my knowledge, couldn’t reciprocate romantic feelings towards her and so their relationship was entirely sexual.

(Having said that I don’t really understand romantic attraction so for all I know that could’ve been romantic)

And then when Humphrey’s head joins the party and suggests a more conventional romantic relationship, she’s disgusted and calls it off.

Just some thoughts

#ghosts bbc #bbc ghosts fanny #bbc ghosts #ghosts uk #alloaro #aromantic #aro #aromantic headcanons #ghosts head canons #bbc ghosts headcanon #fanny button #lady button #humphrey bone #aro headcanon #sexuality headcanons

[snaileer]

Obsession

The thing is this. For all his friends teased him about a protection obsession, for all they poked at him for his constant inability to let things go without helping… he didn’t think that was it. Of course he would step up every time, but it wasn’t a pulling, consuming need, it was guilt, knowing the ghosts were his fault in the end.

If you asked Danny, he’d say his obsession was the stars, the world just past our planet’s atmosphere. A place so vast and so amazing that he couldn’t help but pause and stare sometimes. He’d say his obsession was his curiosity, his wonder, his desire to simply know.

But if he was honest with himself; truly, actually honest… that wasn’t it either.

They say your obsession forms by your last thought when you die. Your last thought in your mind, in your heart, the last thing you want before it ends. And if it’s powerful enough, if you want it enough, and there’s enough energy to power it…. You’ll become a ghost.

Danny’s last thought wasn’t about protecting.

It wasn’t even about his love of space.

When Danny had died, 14 and isolated in a machine of his parent’s making, his last thought had been not unlike that of the many others who are lost too young and too soon.

‘I just want to live.’

And when there’s enough energy, and the desire is strong enough… the last thought before death can be powerful enough to determine a ghost’s existence.

And all Danny wanted was to live.

So when he stumbled out of the machine, hair white and eyes glowing,

Danny Fenton lived.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp #Sam manson #Tucker foley #dp au #dp fic #dp head canon #dead danny phantom #ghost king danny phantom

[deunmiu-dessie]

ⅱ ▬ ⁽ 𝑔𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₈ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, dubcon, rape/noncon elements, explicit content, spectrophilia, ghost/human, rough sex, "unprotected" sex, creampie, somnophilia, cunnilingus. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: after coming home from a grueling day of work, instead of being able to relax, the feeling of someone watching you has you scared. ꒰m!ghost ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

CLICK

𝒯 he soft glow of your lamp casts a warm yellow light throughout the desolate home, but it fails to dispel the darkness that lingers. You make a mental note, weariness seeping into your thoughts, to buy a new lightbulb from the mart later in the week. The dimness of the room matches the heaviness in your heart, as you feel the weight of loneliness settle upon your shoulders, part of you knows you should be used to coming home with no one to greet you, but it still stings nonetheless.

Struggling to remove your gym shoes, you let out an annoyed groan, exhaustion causing you to stumble and collide into the wall with a thump. Finally freeing your feet, you stretch your arms above your head and let out a tired sigh. Your muscles ache from the long day at work, and the fatigue seems to seep into your bones. Your eyes flutter closed from the effects of sleep deprivation but your stomach grumbles with a ravenous craving for a thick pastrami sandwich. The thought of sinking your teeth into the juicy meat and tangy mustard momentarily distracts you from the weariness that engulfs you.

Discarding your wool coat onto the carpeted floor, you shuffle yourself wearily down the hallway towards the kitchen, fully expecting it to still be a mess from three days ago. The cluttered countertops and unwashed dishes serve as a constant reminder of your chaotic schedule and the lack of time you have for yourself. It’s as if the mess mirrors the disarray in your own life, and you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by it all. At times you missed living with your parents and not having any responsibilities. Being an adult was so stress-inducing you just wanted to lay in bed and cry sometimes.

Leaning against the hallway wall, you find solace in pressing your forehead against the cool, flowered wallpaper. Sleep weighs heavily on your eyelids, momentarily clouding your vision and tempting you to succumb to its embrace. And just as your legs threaten to give way, a gentle chill dances down your spine, jolting you awake with a surge of electricity. A tired sigh escapes your lips as you run your palm down your face, mustering the strength to continue towards the kitchen. The chaotic mess that greets you almost makes you cry.

Resting against the entryway to the kitchen, a pang of regret washes over you. Deep down, and not even buried that far truly, you wish you hadn’t taken your coworker’s shift. Despite your fondness for the woman, working two consecutive twelve-hour shifts was more than you could handle. And as the new nurse in the hospital, you were an easy target for those who wanted to shirk their responsibilities, they left you to run around like a headlesss chicken.

You finally gather the energy to carry yourself into the kitchen, reaching for a cup from the cupboard and turning on the sink faucet, allowing lukewarm water to fill it. Impatiently you can’t wait for the tap to run cold and quickly knock back the glass, the satisfaction of quenching your thirst outweighs the temperature. Slouching against the sink, you take a moment to stretch, feeling your joints crack and your muscles slacken. You flutter your eyes shut to stop yourself from gazing at the mess that’s your kitchen.

Placing the glass on the worn countertop, you set your medical bag on the kitchen island and head towards the staircase, overwhelmed by the longing for a shower and some rest. However, as you approach the hallway, a sudden shiver runs down your spine, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. Your legs momentarily go numb, and you manage to grab hold of the stair railing, preventing yourself from stumbling. After being on your feet for a whole day, you were shocked you had not immediately collapsed when you walked in the door.

A sudden sense of unease washes over you when you survey your modest home, the horrid sensation of being observed seeping into your skin and festering in your mind. It’s as if the feeling surrounds you, leaving you breathless and on edge. Your eyes dart between the dimly lit kitchen and the shadowy staircase, it’s as if the shadows themselves are in motion. Objects seem out of place, and didn’t you leave your bag on the island?

Confusion creases your brow as you search for your bag, it takes a while but you discover it leaning against the couch’s armrest in the living room. Your unease deepens, causing a slight twitch in your eye. The entire situation leaves you unsettled. Anxiously, you bite down on your lower lip, feeling the sting as your teeth sink into the flesh. Once more, the sensation of being watched intensifies, as though someone is observing your every move, listening to your every thought, and knowing your every action. Goosebumps raise on your skin, skittering down your back.

You shake your head in disbelief and pinch the bridge of your nose, the weight of exhaustion and hunger bearing down on you. ( the latter was something you would fix in the morning, as you did not have the energy to cook anything.) The darkness of the hallway only adds to your supposed delusion. With a heavy sigh, you push yourself away from the railing and begin the arduous climb up the stairs.

Stopping just shy of the top of the stairs, you reach your hand out and glide it along the cool walls beside you, feeling for the light switch— one may think that you would know where the light was in a house that you’ve lived in for two years, but you seemed to fail to find it every time. Your palm glides along the walls, desperately searching for the elusive light switch. It’s a futile attempt, as if the house itself is playing tricks on you. The anticipation builds as you inch closer to the top, your body tensing with each step.

Finally, the click of the switch echoes through the silence. But it’s not your doing. Panic sets in as you realize someone else must be in the house, but soon the hallway is bathed in harsh light, exposing every shadow and corner. Yet no one is there. You stare at your hand, questioning whether you had unknowingly flipped the switch.

Ignoring the fear that threatens to consume you, you force yourself to continue. Quickly, you make your way to your room, seeking solace behind the closed door. But even within the confines of your sanctuary, the feeling of being watched persists. It’s as if an unseen presence lingers, peering into the depths of your soul.

Your skin tingles in question as the ethereal sensation of fingers delicately cupping your cheek sends shivers down your spine (truly almost nonexistent). A surge of unease washes over you, even though you can’t see anything, you can sense an intense, ravenous gaze fixated on you. Shaking off the remnants of your episode, you take a hesitant step forward, determined to overcome any lingering apprehension. With a burst of courage, you scurry to your dresser and retrieve an oversized T-shirt, a memento stolen from your older brother years ago, along with a pair of plain black cotton panties.

No matter what strange occurrences were unfolding, you refuse to let them hinder your plans for a hot shower. The past twenty-four hours have left you covered in sweat and grime, and you are determined to cleanse yourself of it all.

With eager anticipation, you make your way to the bathroom, barely bothering to close the door behind you. Placing your clothes in the sink, you turn towards the shower, pushing the curtain aside to adjust the knobs and pull up the shower valve, spurring on the hot water. As the bathroom fills with steam, your breathing becomes slightly shallow, the heat causing your cheeks to flush.

Stepping back towards the sink, you gaze at the fogged-up mirror, your reflection blurred and distorted. Like a scene from a horror movie, you raise your hand and press it against the glass, wiping downwards and watching as the water droplets cascade lower, dripping on your discarded clothing below.

As your eyes meet your reflection once more, they immediately lose focus and fixate on the imposing figure standing just a few meters behind you. Towering over six feet tall, his muscular frame exudes a suffocating amount of dominance and power. A scream of terror and disbelief escapes your lips, and in a panic, you grab the hand soap from the sink and swiftly turn around, hurling it towards the intruder. The bottle soars through the air, crashing into the wall before landing on the tiled floor.

There was no one there; you were going crazy.

“Calm down. You need to sleep. It’s been a long day; your mind is playing tricks on you.”

You were just full of excuses, desperately trying to maintain your sanity. But surprisingly, those excuses provided a strange comfort, no matter how unbelievable they were. So, you decided to settle yourself down, shedding your work pants and kicking them aside. Your shirt and undergarments followed suit, as you let go of all inhibitions. In that moment, the fear that had consumed you was momentarily forgotten.

You gazed at your reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to wipe away any imperfections. Your eyes wandered down to your body, taking in the soft ridges of faint stretch marks on your breasts with your fingertips. As your palms venture lower, they lovingly caress your thighs, reveling in the velvety softness of your skin and the warmth that radiates from them.

With a shake of your head, you release a sigh of surrender, allowing your hands to fall gracelessly to your sides. You take a step closer to the inviting tub, parting the shower curtain to reveal the steamy water within. As you enter the embrace of the hot water, a soft moan of pleasure escapes your lips, the heat enveloping your entire being and melting away the tension in your muscles. This shower was exactly what you craved.

After diligently scrubbing your skin until it’s both raw (and irresistibly smooth), you find yourself sitting on the floor of the tub, relishing in the sensation of the water cascading over your hair and body. However, as much as you yearn to stay in the blissful sanctuary that is your tub until the water turns cold, you reluctantly acknowledge the losing battle against sleep that you’re already engaged in.

Carefully rising from the bathtub, you extend your hand under the cooling sprays of the water to twist the knobs and halt the shower, pushing the valve down afterward. Exiting the tub, you forgo the use of a towel and opt to let the air dry you while reaching for your toothpaste and toothbrush from their respective places. Relocating your clothes from the sink to the nearby shelf, you proceed to brush your teeth swiftly, counting to fifty before spitting and returning everything to its original position.

You grab your face wash and dispense a small amount onto your palm, with gentle strokes, you massage the cleanser into your skin, creating a lather that removes the remnants of yesterday morning’s messy makeup. Switching on the tap, you lean over the sink, allowing the warm water to flow into your hands, smoothly gliding it across your face and rinsing away the soap.

Your back divots suddenly with a delicate grace as an ethereal caress firmly grasps your sensetive hips, eliciting a startled gasp of surprise from your parted lips. Your eyes pop open, darting around in a hasty manner, well, stupidly, seeing as you hadn’t quite finished washing your face--- the remnants of soap trickling into your eyes. A sharp hiss escapes your mouth as you instinctively lower yourself to rinse away the discomfort.

Once more the tantalizing trail of fingers tracing along your spine is undeniably present. You remain still, your muscles tensing in anticipation, trembling as the touch ascends higher, encircling your neck. With trembling hands, you turn off the faucet and inhale deeply, attempting to steady your racing heart. The deep, seductive timbre of your name being whispered intimately close to your ear fills you with a bone-chilling terror. Quickly, you snatch your garments from the nearby shelf and flee into the sanctuary of your bedroom, momentarily struggling with the bathroom door.

“Calm down, calm down; this is not happening. You’re hallucinating.”

You erratically throw on your shirt, using it to also dry your face, and shimmy your panties up your legs, the soft cotton resting comfortably on your hips. You quickly crawl into bed and pull the comforter up to your chin, shutting your eyes and tucking your bottom lip into your mouth. (Your hair could wait, you were not getting out of bed.)

“Hey, Alexa, turn off: Bedroom Lights. ”

You can’t even recall switching on the overhead light, but honestly, you’re past the point of caring. The mechanical response plunges the room into darkness, and the moment your head hits the pillow (as comfortable as it can be when cold and damp), you’re fast asleep.

You’re unsure how long it’s been, but your eyes flutter open, heavy with sleep when you feel the sensation of large, calloused hands gliding up your stomach softly. The touch is unfamiliar, but it doesn’t necessarily frighten you as it should, instead, you can feel yourself throbbing in your panties, gentle and shy. You blame your sleep deprivation on the lack of fear.

The hands approach your bare breasts, a thumb rubbing over the taught peaks of your pebbled nipples causing a soft gasp to escape your luscious lips, your cheeks burning with fiery heat, and your body arching ever so slightly from the bed, offering your breasts to the awaiting, eager palms.

Your pussy, warm and slick, constricts and drools with your arousal. Maybe it’s the thrill of imagining a supernatural encounter, but you’ve never felt as aroused and eager as you do at this moment; dripping and throbbing.

You feel a surge of anticipation as your panties are gently shifted aside, a trail of your desire following suit. Ghostly fingers swiftly trail up your inner thigh, getting closer to your sopping pussy, and despite the uncertainty of the situation, the mysterious touch ignites a fire within you. The paranormality behind the sensation makes your heart pound and your pussy salivate with need. Lost in a whirlwind of lustful thoughts, a soft caress on your clit causes your hips to involuntarily buck, your lip bruised from the force of your bite. “Ah~”

Your voice comes out as a breathy, needy whine. The suspense of where and when the next touch will land sends shivers of excitement down your spine. And as soon as you're almost on the verge of begging, a rush of hot air sweeps over your dripping core, causing your pussy to clench instinctively. Your throbbing clit pulsates with an insatiable ache, lost in a haze of pleasure, and your eyes roll back, unable to fully grasp the intensity of the experience.

As the sensation engulfs you, your throbbing bud is devoured by their hungry mouth. The combination of their saliva and your own intoxicating arousal trickles down, moistening your tight, quivering entrance. The sensation is nothing short of divine, as if their touch is delicately fondling and slurping at every nerve within your shuddering body.

Your hips, moving with a will of their own, rise from the bed and writhe. You can’t help but squeal softly as firm, powerful, and large hands encircle your hips, forcefully pressing you down onto the mattress, indulging in your warm, sticky juices; skillfully teasing your clit with its tongue. Your cries and pleas echo loudly, a stark contrast to your usual quiet demeanor when having sex with men.

Oh, but you felt like a bitch in heat, like your entire being was engulfed in flames and burning you from the inside out— it made you want to scream and cry.

Your body trembles uncontrollably as the knot tightens, gripping your stomach, thighs, and lower abdomen. In a desperate bid for relief from the agonizing pleasure, you instinctively gyrate your hips. Your vision blurs and fades into a blinding white haze, signaling your impending climax. But just as you teeter on the edge of release, the touches abruptly cease, leaving you yearning for more.

You whimper and attempt to reach down to your soaking pussy to pat and rub at your engorged clit, but you unintentionally freeze in place; a small knot of fear causes your eyes to well up, yet it only intensifies your craving for its caress. When nothing further occurs, you start to plead, like a desperate whore— as if you hadn’t been touched in years.

And as if pleased, the ghostly caresses return to your sensitive clit, moving with a deliberate slowness that sends shivers down your spine. You can’t help but let out a series of soft moans, as you offer up sweet words of gratitude to the mysterious entity pleasuring you.

“Ah, yes, yes, please!”

Your body tenses as the knot tightens, aching with a mix of pain and pleasure. Your hips move uncontrollably, seeking more of that sweet torment. Yet, it stops once more, leaving you to come down from your ruined high. You’re a sobbing mess now, grinding against the air, waiting for something, anything.

Your throat constricts suddenly, leaving you breathless as fingers delve into your tight, dripping pussy, curling and prodding your spongey g-spot. The digits seem to know your pussy like the back of their hand, stroking every nerve inside of you. The squelching sound of your arousal drowns out your heavy breathing and mewling moans. The entity suddenly adds its thumb to the mix, circling your clit quickly. The pleasure escalates swiftly, and your eyes squeeze shut as a rush of pure ecstasy overwhelms you, leaving your thighs quivering and twitching from the deep, blissful climax.

After the high subsides, you pant for air, the tension easing from your throat. You sprawl sensually on your bed, clit throbbing and arousal coating your sheets. A tepid, exhausted breath escapes your lips as a thickness delicately nudges apart the folds of your pulsating entrance, prompting an instinctual urge to flee. However, unyielding hands firmly pull you closer, and your legs reluctantly surrender to their command.

You can feel a bulbous, mushroom-shaped tip forcefully penetrating your quivering, weeping pussy eliciting a mixture of pleasure and pain at the invasion. Your pretty eyes roll quickly to the back of your head as the unknown entity plunges its heavy, thick cock into your tight entrance, your thighs pressed to your chest and legs draped over broad shoulders.

You keen softly, as your pliable walls ensnare his cock in a vice-like, velvety embrace. “More, I need more; please fuck me, please.” Your plea is abruptly silenced as its thick length withdraws from within you, only to resume with an intense, unconventional rhythm—leaving you no opportunity to adjust to its entire length.

The unyielding grip on your waist marks you in the most delicious way, leaving behind a trail of bruises that only heighten the pleasure coursing through you. Your pussy feels so full and sated, despite nothing physically filling you, you throb with satisfaction.

Lost in the depths of your pleasure, the reasons behind your desperate pleas elude you, but you continue to spill them forth without hesitation, unable to think. Once again, your breath is stolen away, your throat constricts, and an intense orgasm surges through you like a forceful tidal wave. A delicious warmth then radiates from your core, spreading through your tummy.

The most painful and pleasurable feeling of being filled with cum has you aching for a taste of it. Your body goes limp, but whatever is fucking you doesn’t stop; their cock pistols into you despite you slowly losing consciousness.

As your eyes flutter open, you gradually rise from the bed. The room is shrouded in darkness, leaving you disoriented about the time you’ve spent asleep. Urgently, you rush to the bathroom due to your full bladder. Stepping out of bed, a gasp escapes your lips as your foot lands on a cold, damp object. Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s your panties. Blushing, you drop them and shake your head, with your hair still slightly wet from the previous night’s shower.

As you enter the bathroom, you opt for the wall light switch instead of the one on the ceiling, casting a gentle, warm radiance throughout the room. Oblivious to your reflection, you casually stroll past the mirror, too exhausted to spare a second glance.

As you ease yourself onto the toilet seat, your tired eyes gently close, and the tinkling sound of you using the bathroom lulls you into a state of sleep for a brief moment. A few moments pass, and you linger a bit longer before reaching for a flushable wet wipe, dutifully cleansing yourself before discarding it into the swirling abyss of the toilet bowl.

With a swift flush, you rise to your feet and shuffle to the sink to cleanse your hands. However, as you slowly open your drowsy eyes and catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, a sudden chill runs down your spine.

As you gingerly raise your shirt, a gasp escapes your lips. The sight before you is both shocking and unsettling. Crimson and violet bruises, resembling the imprint of a colossal hand, encircle your throat, cascading down to conceal your collarbone and shoulders. As your eyes wander further, a gasp escapes your lips. Vivid handprints, a testament to an intimate encounter, mark your hips in crimson and violet, while a constellation of hickies adorns your tummy.

As you gaze into the mirror, you suddenly catch sight of a man standing behind you, from earlier. Surprisingly, he seems closer than the last time you saw him, and you can feel the warmth of his body through your shirt. He stands tall, with bulging muscles and an overwhelming presence that leaves you breathless. However, his appearance remains a mystery, as you struggle to make out his features. Just then, the bathroom door slams shut, plunging the room into darkness as the lights flicker off. Your heart skips a beat as you feel hands slowly trail up your shirt, eventually cupping your pussy.

His voice is like a warm embrace, wrapping around you with its deep, sensual, sinful, and amused tones.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

#monsterfucker #monster fucker #monster smut #monster headcanons #terato #monster lover #monster nsft #monster x reader #monster x human #monster x you #monster romance #tw monsterfucking #fantasy #female writers #possessive #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #female reader #monster imagine #ghost smut #spectrophilia #ghost x reader #supernatural #smut #very nsft #ghost #afab #nsft post #head canon

[yesandpeeps]

Copia can be a bitch, as a treat :-)

#yesandpeeps #ghost #art #cardinal copia #papa nihil #saltarian #sister imperator #prequelle #restating for context: nonsense head canons based how copia danced during rats and his use of a cane during his cardinal days

[iwasbored777]

The fact that all Gwen knows about her variants in other universes is that they're dead is so sad. Like imagine you want to know what happens to you in other dimensions and it turns out that wherever you look you mean nothing, you're so unimportant that there's no bigger role for you other than dying.

And I've seen you guys pointing this out, where she's looking at what looks like her own death and even if it's not this is not just a "love interest" Gwen, this is a superhero who is supposed to mean something, but she doesn't. She's only here to die. And so far this (our) Gwen doesn't have any reason to believe that she won't die very soon just like other Gwens.

I think that one of the main reasons why she's rejecting Miles is not just her trauma and all shit she's been through and the fear of dying like other Gwens when they're involved with Spider-Man, but also because if they start something and she dies this will hurt him too.

It's easy to say "canon events aren't true she shouldn't believe in that" but this isn't just a regular risk, this is her life we're talking about.

#my baby just wanted to stay alive #her death just casually appeared above her head and she's expected to continue the conversation normally #and it doesn't look like she died peacefully at all look at her #spider man across the spider verse #Spiderverse #across the spiderverse #gwen stacy #spider woman #spider gwen #ghost spider #to anyone who says that this is kravens last hunt he injured peter badly in that comic almost killed him #but that doesn't mean that she won't die either in hands of kraven or anybody else #or that this is just one canon event she has more but as far as she knows she'll die if she touches spider man or just die like that #but I'm not sure if it's even kravens last hunt pic she doesn't look well here either way #to me it looks like she's hurt here I didn't think about other possibilities until y'all said it could be but it's sus i think she's hurt

[honimello]

gritty close ups of terzo that i adore:

#he’s so textured i love him #if anyone has any more of these types of photos i would literally love them so much #papa emeritus iii #the band ghost #i really wanna draw a what terzo looks like in my head vs canon drawing lol #i think the really close up eye one is my fav cus i struggle with eye contact cus it feels too intimate #and that pic gives me butterflies ☺️☺️☺️😳😳

[temeyes]

random cod oc post, but anyway: their and Gaz's dynamic

#yes.. mila is a lieutenant!!! a 2nd lieutenant!! #man i have their lore and entire romance written in my head but im TOO LAZY TO WRITE IT DOWN #mila doesn't like working w/ others!! not cuz of trauma or anything. they just don't like interacting with people LOL #hashtag justintrovertthings HAHSAHSHA #“lieutenant what do we do now??” “...ehhh i dont really know...” “HUH?” #sorry gaz.. you have to work with a stubborn ass superior officer..... (worse than price and ghost themselves probably) #my art #2024 #my ocs #cod oc #call of duty oc #oc #ocs #call of duty #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz #gaz cod #oc x canon #gaz x oc #art #fanart #original art #digital art #digital drawing #sketch #doodle #video games

[starry-bi-sky]

clone danny's accident in the clone^2 au

Im thinking about clone^2 danny's accident in this au. he doesn't have his halfa powers in this au. He has his scary eyes and the ghost sense and the ability to see ghosts - kinda takes up a psychopomp role with his ghost cases - and enough ectoplasm to trigger the ghost defenses in his parents' house. But he doesn't have his ghost powers or his ghost half. He's just very strongly liminal.

And im just mmmmm thinking about how that came to be. When I originally made the clone danny au back in the summer i couldn't think of how he had his accident without putting him inside the portal, and I couldn't put him inside the portal and have it turn on and then just say "oh! he doesn't have any powers. he got hit with the full concentrated power of the sun a dimension with just a scratch"

like - like i can't do it. i just can't. i need some plausibility in my aus or i hit road blocks and can't continue (see: my jason variant au and why that took so long to post). but i was at work today thinking about clone^2 au and it hit me like a lightning shot. I think said in the original clone danny post that maybe he got electrocuted by the on button on the outside of the portal. But i was never really satisfied with that answer - it felt too placeholder-y to me. too simple. Less plausible to me than I liked.

so, solution: he still gets shocked by the portal outside, but its from a wiring issue that he spots outside of the portal. My first thought is; the portal had a wire that was unplugged. His parents, essentially, forgot to plug it in. Or maybe in all of their excitement they accidentally unplugged it and didn't notice. It just sounds like the right amount of cartoonishly silly that the Fentons are known for. "We put a second "on" button in the inside portal" -> "we forgot to plug it in"

Danny notices it while he's showing Sam and Tucker around the lab and the two of them are checking out the portal. Something caught his eye from the corner and while Sam and Tucker were talking, he went over to investigate. If this were canon, this would be just before Sam tells him to put on the hazmat suit and go into the portal so she can get a photo (iirc). (So he's currently in reg clothes)

And im imagining it as slightly off to the side. Its two black cords - an extension cord to the outlet and then the cord to the portal. and danny crouches down over it, frowning. his eyes follow the cord to the outlet, and then the cord to the portal, and he picks both up.

'did they forget to plug it in?' he thinks, turning his head to look at the portal's entrance. and logically he knows he should probably put the cords down and tell his parents, let them handle it since they have the expertise for this stuff. But...

his eyes draw back to the plug. it's just a plug. it'd be fine if he plugged it in, wouldn't it? surely, it'd be fine. he thinks about it for a moment.

he plugs it in.

immediately, the energy that had been building up slowly through the wires of the portal - the latent ectoplasm in the room being funneled through whatever tech his parents used to make it - goes through the cord. Like a dam bursting. In a flash, the portal turns on with a worrying bang.

At the same time, Danny is hit with a near-lethal amount of electricity. While not as agonizing as being inside the portal, danny still mentally checks out with pain. and he blacks out. when he comes to, he's laying on his back, still in the lab, with sam and tucker kneeling over him. they're talking - probably yelling, with panicked looks on their faces.

He can't hear a thing they're saying, his ears are full of the overly rapid, irregular beating of his heart and the pounding of his blood. His chest hurts like he's having a heart attack, and he grasps at his shirt as his breathing comes in short, labored.

"Hospital" he wheezes out, and sam gets up and sprints out of the lab upstairs. everything else feels like a blur - his parents and jazz are by him - his parents completely ignoring their swirling, working portal, someone's calling 911, danny's being loaded onto a stretcher with an oxygen mask over his face.

danny gets discharged from the hospital a week later, and sick leave from school for another two. his parents refuse to allow him back into the lab, stating it was too dangerous, and their work comes to near grinding stop to watch over him. It's honestly kinda sweet, but the hovering is annoying him - stubborn, independent teenager that he is. When he gets back to school he's still relatively sat out for phy.ed - he's been getting random heart palpitations (which had been at its worst when he was still on sick leave) and what the doctors think is a strange case of arrhythmia. Although Danny insists that he's fine - he's breathing, alive. Nothing feels wrong with him.

Then one day in class, Tucker turns to him to say something - a joke -and yelps - "your eyes!"

Danny on instinct turns his head to the window, frowning. And in the faded reflection, his eyes are burning shade of green like that of the portal. He blinks, breathing in sharply, and they're back to the his old bright blue.

Unfortunately, they're in english class, and the entire room was staring at them. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Foley?" Mr. Lancer asks from the front. Tucker is still wide-eyed and in shock, and he looks quickly between Danny and Lancer.

"I- no, um- Danny's eyes- they- were, um..." He looks panicked, confused.

Danny steps in, and leans over to Tucker. "I think he just spooked himself, Mr. Lancer." He says, looking frontward with his brows furrowed. "Sorry, it won't happen again."

Mr. Lancer looks unconvinced, and suspicious, but he lets it lie. "Are you feeling alright then, Mr. Fenton? Do you need to see the nurse?" It wasn't a secret to the school or student body that he'd been to the hospital from a lab accident - and that it'd resulted in heart problems that he was recovering from.

Danny grins at him, and pounds his chest lightly, "I'm fit as a fiddle, Mr. Lancer. No heart attacks here." He jokes, and leans back into his seat. Mr. Lancer stares, eyes squinty, and then returns to the lesson.

It keeps happening. Danny's eyes turn green at the most random of times, and the three of them begin wittling down what was causing it. In general, Danny's eyes were turning green whenever he was engrossed with something, or when he got emotional - when he was laughing, angry, upset, anything. Sometimes it resulted in heart palpitations, sometimes it didn't.

his ears were hurting too, aching, like when they were cold. Danny wakes up one morning and spends twenty minutes in the bathroom turning his head left and right - his ears were beginning to point. Sam thought it was cool - Danny just thought it was concerning.

He was seeing things too - apparently. He struck up a conversation with someone on the street once - a strange looking man who looked terribly pale and wore old clothes. He looked delighted to be talking to Danny - and then Sam and Tucker walked up to him and asked who he was talking to.

("What do you mean? I'm talking to him.") ("Danny, there's no one there.") ("What?")

After multiple instances of this, they configure that the accident had given Danny some sort of ability to see ghosts.

("So you're meta now?") ("Mm... I don't know. That doesn't feel right.") ("Oh come on, that basically fits the name to a tee!") ("I know, but I just- it doesn't feel right to call myself meta.") ("If you don't like meta, why not just call yourself liminal? Since the portal is supposed to access the afterlife and it gave you powers to see ghosts.") ("Huh, good idea, Sam. Liminal it is, then.")

And as time goes on - and his parents begin to catch and experiment on ghosts - danny adjusts to these weird new abilities. It's not so bad, he supposes, its just some creepy eye magic and a ghost sense. He can live with that, and no one needed to know. He could go back to being normal - right. ...Wrong.

Do his parents really have to catch ghosts?

plus additional sketch that i made at like 3am last night because i needed to draw it down -- aha ignore the inconsistent drawing ability that i have. i'm more of a writer than i am an artist.

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #clone^2 #dpxdc crossover #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp dc #dp x dc au #dc x dp crossover #danny fenton is a clone #danny's accident in the clone^2 au #clone^2 danny before damian's arrival #danny having arrhythmia from the ghost portal - or what the doctors think is arrhythmia. him having health issues from the accident is #interesting to me but not something i think i'll get into too much other than the aforementioned heart problems. mostly bc i dont think #i'd be able to properly showcase it #also im a little embarrassed by my art skills but i just dont draw often so its about as good as im gonna get with a sheet of paper #i can do like. front poses really well but i struggle so much with drawing a head that i like that doesn't fel juvenile or amateurish #so i just gotta keep practicing lol. and find a tutorial that works suppose. #14yo danny's hair being shorter prior to when damian meets him >> its still longer than it is in canon but shorter than it will be. #i think i accidentally gave him a tim haircut. oh well. hair is hard and practice makes improvement #depending on where my motivation is at i may or may not make another post about danny finally becoming phantom in clone^2 #half tempted to add a prompt tag to this because mAN do i wanna talk to people about this au and other potential stuff that could happen #like how people will take a prompt and interpret it differently than the person next to them. i love talking about different ideas of #the same thing. #does the comic imply there was something compelling danny to check it out and plug the portal in?.... maybe.

[ghouljams]

Ghost and Goose are autism4adhd and I think that’s beautiful. I don’t need to explain myself on this. I’m just gonna write out some small moments of them caring for each other's needs, plus Ghost being Murphy’s least favorite customer.

You hold out a pair of earplugs for Simon as he walks past you, feeling his fingers close over them quickly. He twists them into his ears as he goes to help Soap set up the arsenal of fireworks he bought. When he comes back to you he settles a hand on your lower back, appreciative. He doesn’t have to say anything.

-

You snap at Gaz when he tries to ask you about horse tack and Simon looks at you like his ears are burning. He makes a soft motion with his hands, waving them back and forth. You shake out your whole body to try and get yourself back to equilibrium. When that doesn’t work he comes over and roughs up your hair until you’re laughing and pushing at his hands. 

-

You and Soap have been chattering in overlapping voices about almost nothing for the last hour. Simon’s leg bounces rapidly as he sits next to you trying to focus on the game. He stands and leaves without a word, you smack a hand over Soap’s mouth when he tries to call him out on it.

- 

Simon grabs Soap by the back of the neck and hauls him out of the kitchen before you even notice he’s there. Your brain laser focused on the budget sheets laid out across the table.

“You’re a cruel man starvin’ me like this,” Soap complains.

“You just had lunch,” Simon tells him shortly, “Let Goose work.”

-

You hand Simon your monthly list and make sure he knows your prices are non-negotiable. Murphy swears as soon as he cozies up to the counter. Simon sets the list down, slides it towards the old man with his fingers.

“What do you want first?” Murphy eyes him, eyes the list.

“Corn feed.”

“50 a bag.”

“15.” Simon tells him smoothly, Murphy sputters.

“15? 15!? You’re out of your spectral mind if you think I’m going as low as-”

“15.” Simon repeats.

“Now 40! I could maybe do 40,” Murphy tries, “40 would be reasonable!” Simon stares at him.

“15.” He says firmly.

“If you were asking for 25 I would consider us friends! 15! You’re trying to put me out of business!” Murphy presses his hand to his heart, “Have you no sympathy? I’m an old man, just trying to make an honest living before I pass on.”

“I’d put you in your late 60s, hardly old,” Simon tells him, “15.”

“If you think-”

“15.”

“If Goose thinks!”

“It’s 15.”

“Alright it’s 15,” Murphy sighs, jotting down the fair price on his notepad. “You know you really take the fun out of this.”

“I get that a lot.”

#cowboy!Ghost #oc: Goose #oc: Murphy #Cowboy!Soap #I love them your honor #I've been back and forth on posting this #I know people have their own head canons on the COD boys #but I think Ghost is autistic #I'm not gonna fight anyone on it but I'm right #he gets overstimulated and he just leaves the room #goes and smokes or just sits in the barn with the horses #until Goose comes to find him

[plutonicbees]

underrated cool kid duo (plot twist they're both secretly losers)

#funny story. i thought hobie brown was THE gay spider-man for like a year until i searched it up and found out that i made it up in my head #like he gave off such queer vibes that web weaver was not even on my radar. spider-punk canon queer to me bc my brain said so. #hobie brown #gwen stacy #spider punk #spider gwen #ghost spider #spider woman #spider man #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #marvel #pride month #lgbtq+ #queer #transgender #queer art #artists on tumblr #spider gwen fanart #gwen stacy fanart #hobie brown fanart #spider punk fanart #fanart #marvel fanart #art #my art #spiderverse fanart #atsv #atsv fanart

[greenlaut]

they’re in love your honor

#FUCKING GUESS WHAT #soapghost brainrot real #THIS ONE FOR THE BITCHES WHO ENJOY THOSE STUPID FLUFFY CIVILIAN FICS #ME IM BITCHES #u can take it as canon soapghost #but in my head this is florist ghost with tattoo artist soap #god i love that fic so much #or yknow what this can also be that one fic #where ghost is a veteran in an antique store and johnnys a famous footballer #me drawing simon: im about to make this bitch look like he never seen the sun #me drawing johnny: im about to make him Devastatingly Bright #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mctavish #simon riley #john mctavish #soap x ghost #ghost x soap #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod #modern warfare 2 #mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare 2 #my art

[moo9395]

My ghosts sexuality hcs

I literally change these at any point to fit my mood/ daydream so I've included a few different ones for some characters

Captain:

Obviously he's canon gay but I also occasionally put him ace spec

Mary:

Lesbian/ Bi/ Homo-flexible

Screams she/they

Robyn:

Aro

Pansexual

When he's not Aro he's also pan romantic

Poly (Canon I think)

Pat:

Pan icon

Thomas:

hes asexual and I will die on this hill. Did you see the fear when Alison started taking off her shirt. Bro nearly died.

Sometimes I do him as Cupioromantic but that does make me sad.

Sometimes bros just bi (sexual and romantic)

Sometimes he's straight

But he's always on the ace spectrum.

Annie:

Lesbian. Moving on.

Kitty:

Bi.

Humphrey:

I feel like he could be bi.

Maybe hetero flexible.

He defo has a preference for women

(He/They kind of slay though) (that rhymes)

Lady B:

She's probably straight.

And that's okay.

We love our straight queen.

(I don't see her as a lesbian I'm sorry.)

Maybe hetero flexible or a male preference bi icon

Julian:

Aromantic icon.

When he's not aromantic he's aro spec.

(we adore the aro but not ace rep)

Probably poly as well

yeah.

#bbc ghosts #ghosts head canons #sexuality headcanons #ghosts uk #the captain #pat butcher #julian fawcett #thomas thorne #kitty higham #lady button #fanny button #Robyn ghosts #robin ghosts #humphrey bone #mary ghosts #annie ghosts #I hate spelling Robyn with an i

[shyravenns]

Talking with my friend @injestedsoap about what it would be like to date the 141 guys~

Ghost: Hesitant, and would be extremely reluctant to date a civilian. I feel like he's a short term relationship kinda guy, but he's a gentleman when he's with you and he tries his best to make the experience at least somewhat memorable. Charming in his own quiet way and is a sucker for someone who not only gets his lame jokes, but laughs at them. Is more than a bit guarded esp if he's with you during a mission, but he can skate around an unwelcome conversation just fine. Not a perfect boyfriend, but he tries even if you have to pry him out of his shell little by little.

Gaz: Almost tries too hard to be perfect and normal. He knows how busy he can be and the time you spend together seems to get less and less. He has a bad habit of overcompensating. Big romantic dinners, long days spent in bed, and him trying so very hard to be attentive to your issues (even if he can't relate to them). Has more anxiety than he let's on esp when he's not in the field. Patient and understanding, but I feel like he needs someone who makes him stop and calm down. Chill in a very quard dog way, but friendly overall.

Price: Same with Gaz, but he can be distant. That doesn't mean he doesn't love you, but it's been ingrained within him to keep his private life separate from his personal. workaholic and an ex alcoholic, he tries his best to be as mentally present with you as possible.He feels guilty 90% of the time when he sees a house that looks lived in, but lonely. Would def be insecure about how much he doesn't think he deserves you, and tries to buy your forgiveness (even if there's nothing to forgive) with gifts. Bit of a hopeless romantic, but you'll never hear it from him. Would come home with a puppy for you tho

Soap: Falls in love fast and quick, and burns out twice as fast. Can be a bit intense at first, but he's loyal. Weirdly observant, and is the type to bring you a present from some forgotten conversation betweenn the two of you. Much more comfortable being FWB with someone as relationships aren't his go to. Compared to the others, he's more well adjusted to being in a relationship and he's a good boyfriend all things considering. Struggles to relate to civillians at times, and is used to being around soldiers. Can be distant and a bit dismissive, but he doesn't always mean it THAT way. Def a lust at first sight to oh I wanna keep you forever type guy

#cod #cod x reader #gn reader #John price #john soap mactavish #ghost cod #gaz cod #price x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #141 #call of duty mwf2 #they're all shelter dogs your honor #head canons

[icarustypicalfall]

A new series :)

a group chat of cod men and yn who is a medic

idk this felt silly in my head to unleash my dump jokes I cant put in fics also i decided it'll be fem reader cuz idk i just wanted also it's not like anyone will read it im flopping soo bad but whatever enjoy this meal pookies I'll add new parts soon

someone with my two brain cells will fall for this

PART 1

guess who kidnapped yn hard edition

MASTERPOST • SERIES

#cod group chat #cod written by faith #faith isn't available rn #call of duty #cod headcanons #cod memes #trying #funny stuff #maybe #task force 141 #call of duty fanfic #call of duty headcanons #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #alejandro vargas memes #rodolfo rudy parra #soap cod #phillip graves #head canons #captain price #könig cod #könig #kyle gaz garrick

[st-danger]

Swiss + Phantom, Swiss underneath phantom, fucking him while phantom's bent over backwards (like that one pic), his back to swiss' chest. His legs hurt from being in the position for so long but fuck is it good

Doesn't matter how flexible he is after awhile; the stretch of his thighs, the tension he carries in his entire body is a lot. He's a guitar string tuned to high. Desperate to snap. He feels the hair on Swiss's chest against his back, Swiss's hot and insistent breath against his neck and hair when he gets particularly close. Loving hands holding terribly hard. Swiss finishes like that and stays inside while Aeon jerks himself and finishes on his own belly.

#it's the truth #trust me you gotta trust me on this #st-speaks #ghost #the band ghost #ghost fic #ghost fanfiction #ghost head canons #swiss ghoul #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss/phantom #swiss/aeon #swiss x phantom #swiss x aeon #nameless ghouls

[lokisarmyjustinvadedmidgard]

Rebels fans have been consuming anything and everything in relation to our Ghost Fam for years, yearning for more, grasping at strings, tearing through fan fics

It's like oxygen to us, it all we think and breathe

And now, now we get more!

#random #star wars #star wars head canon #ahsoka show #star wars rebels #star wars rebels headcanons #ghost family #ghost crew #star wars funny #sabine wren #kanan jarrus #ezra bridger #hera syndulla #chopper #zeb orrelios #we live through them #they are our life