#and yet i have still crocheted my rows. i get knocked down but i get up again. you're never gonna keep me down

[uncanny-tranny]

Blessing of the knitter/crocheter: may your hands never have cuts, bruising, sores, hangnails, or any other nuisance that would make your craft painful. May your hands and wrists never ache 🪷💛

#art #knitting #crochet #i just figured out that the reason i feel like my yarn is burning me is because i have a cut right where my yarn goes #AND it's on the knuckle. this is so fucked up.... #hate and sadness on planet earth #and yet i have still crocheted my rows. i get knocked down but i get up again. you're never gonna keep me down #that cat meme of that song has stayed in my head since i first saw it. i think it's saved my life actually #also this blessing goes double if you have a disability especially of the hands 💛🪷💛

[keepcalmimthecupcake]

She’s From Boston part 8

Steve McGarrett x ofc

Word count : 1616

Warnings: None

A/N: I have and will be taking some creative liberties as to Sophie’s schooling. Kind of combining a few different ways schools run and such. Shhhh. Just let it happen. XD Once again, thanks to my lovely beta @fandomoniumflurry  If you want to catch up on the series, here is where you can find the other parts: 1  2  3  4  5  6   7  Feedback is lovely and fuels my muse’s fire. If you enjoy my work and would like to buy me a coffee, you can do so here.  You can find all my works here.

H50 taggers:

@fandomoniumflurry

@hawaiianohana15

Steve had taken Sophie to the Culinary Institute of the Pacific admissions office less than an hour after she’d disclosed more of her past to him and had waited there while she filled out her application. There was a fee, of course, and of course the commander paid for it, much to Sophie’s dismay. She appreciated his help, but she didn’t want him paying her way all the time. “Consider it an investment in the future.” he said, echoing Michael’s words before she’d left Massachusetts. “You learn to cook even better than you already do, I get to reap the rewards of being your guinea pig. It’s a win-win situation.” Steve stated with a bright smile. Sophie couldn’t argue with him, especially when he flashed that mesmerizing grin at her.

She was anxious and on edge every time she checked the mail for the next week and a half. The admissions process was stressful with all the waiting. This was the only school she’d applied to so far and if she got in, she could start within a month. She busied herself with cleaning up the house. Laundry was done, floors swept and mopped, windows washed, on just the first day. Steve came home that night and chuckled as he looked around. “The place hasn’t been this clean in years. You know, you don’t have to do everything in one day.” He gave her a smile and a gentle hug. “It looks really good but seriously. Don’t wear yourself out. You’ve done a lot today. Junior should be here soon. Let’s all go grab dinner somewhere.”

That night was her first time at the restaurant of the Hilton Hawaiian Village. She’d stayed there two weeks when she first arrived, but never dined in their restaurant, always choosing cheaper food from a small grocery store a few streets over. The place was fantastic! The entertainment was amazing and of course, the company was great. She found herself examining the food when it was brought to them, noticing how it was presented and other such things she was sure to learn when she got into cooking school. It wouldn’t hurt to take some notes beforehand.

The dinner was great and by the time the trio arrived back home, Sophie was more than ready to fall into bed. The next few days she busied herself with some light cleaning and some reading. On the third afternoon, she decided to go online to see if there was a craft store nearby. To her happiness, there was! And, she discovered, it was on the bus line. She took what little money she had left and made her way to the shop.

She hadn’t been in a craft store in many years. Brian had never allowed her to do much that she sought pleasure in. Crocheting certainly was off the list. But as she looked around at the rows and rows of different yarns on the shelves, her eyes glistened with tears. She remembered sitting on Nana and Papa’s front porch trying to learn how to begin a project. It took her a few times, but Nana had been very patient with her and exclaimed with joy when she finally got it right.

The blanket that she’d abandoned after her parents were killed still sat unfinished in a box in Michael and Lydia’s garage. Maybe one day she would finish it. But now, she wanted to begin something new. She picked out several skeins of yarn, the colors of camouflage, and found a few hooks that were the sizes she would need. Once the items were purchased, she made her way back to the house and begun what would be a gift for Steve.

Over the next several days, after her housework duties were finished, she worked on the commander’s present. It got a little frustrating on a few parts, but she was able to figure it out and things were coming along quite nicely now. It was almost finished. On day nine, Steve had come in with a few pieces of mail. “Is there a Miss Sophie Russo in the house?” he’d called out, a bright smile on his face. “I have what could be a very important letter for her.”

Sophie rushed out from the kitchen where she was fixing herself a light snack and snatched the envelope from him. She tore it open and her eyes began welling up with tears as she read. She had to read it over a few times before the message sank in. “I got in.” she stated flatly. “They…...I GOT IN!” Her face broke into a huge smile and she flung her arms around around Steve’s neck. “Thank you, Steve!” She showed him the letter, the smile never leaving her face. He, too, was all smiles as he read the letter and congratulated her. “This calls for a celebration! I need to make some calls.”

He went upstairs to shower and make his calls as she sat looking over the materials the package contained. She’d have to get some supplies and books, but that could wait til tomorrow at least. Tonight, she would bask in this victory to reclaiming herself in full. When Steve came back down, he informed her that they were going out for dinner with the ohana. Jerry, Kamekona, Flippa, Lou, Adam, Tani, Danny and Junior would be joining them to celebrate Sophie’s big day.

She once again took some note of how the food was presented but didn’t allow herself to think too much on this. Instead, she got caught up in the atmosphere of the night. Their party was a little boisterous, but everyone was in good spirits and she laughed more than she had for a very long time. That was, until the waitress kept trying to make passes at Steve. Sophie scowled slightly at this, but didn’t say anything. Steve was free to talk to or date whoever he wanted to. One of the times, she noticed Adam looking at her during a scowl and he raised a brow. She quickly looked away and was very interested in the conversation Jerry was having with Lou.

Several times this waitress came back and tried to capture Steve’s attention and it annoyed Sophie. Still, she kept quiet about it. She didn’t understand why she was feeling so annoyed by this. Steve was her friend, her roommate, her employer even. Why was this stupid waitress getting on her nerves so much? Steve hadn’t responded to her advances, Sophie was glad to see, but that didn’t stop the wench from trying. Maybe she’s just trying a little too hard to get a good tip Sophie thought, and put the girl out of her mind to enjoy the rest of the evening.

Much food and many drinks later, the group dispersed to go home. Steve, only having had a couple beers, drove Tani and Danny home, then returned for Sophie and Junior. Once they arrived back home, Sophie sleepily wished the two men a good night and trudged up to her room. She’d intended to work more on Steve’s blanket, but instead she fell on her bed and went right to sleep.

The next morning when she woke, the house was empty. There was a note from Steve on the fridge telling her that they’d had to get to the office early today. She went about making herself some breakfast then did the dishes before putting a load of laundry in the machine. While the clothes were washing, she sat down and worked on the blanket. With any luck, she’d have it finished by this afternoon. The sun was bright and just as she decided she wanted to go sit in the back yard and read for a bit, there was a knock on the door.

She opened the door and was surprised when a delivery man from a florists’ shop stood there. “Sophie Russo?” he asked and she nodded. He smiled and pushed a beautiful arrangement of flowers toward her. “If you could sign right here……” She signed his paper and thanked him, then took the vase inside. There was a card in the middle that said simply “To Sophie. From your secret admirer.”

Her brows narrowed as she thought about who these could be from. She didn’t know many people here yet and most of those she did were already taken. None of them had shown any interest in her in that manner. She allowed herself a smile when she wondered if they were from Steve. This would be something he would do just to brighten her day, but it was still early and he was at work. He wouldn’t have had time to call for the delivery. Then panic set in when she thought about someone else they could be from. Had Brian found her? Did he know where she was staying? Suddenly, she didn’t want to be home alone anymore.

She was startled by the buzzing of the washer indicating that the load was finished. She quickly shoved the clothes in the dryer, turned it on and made her way outside and across the street to Miss Kala’s home. She knocked on the door and was glad when the woman answered. Sophie asked for a ride into town and Kala grabbed her keys and the pair was off. Sophie tried to keep her panic to a minimum and not let anyone know she was upset. When she got to the office, she greeted Jerry with a smile. “Hey, Jerry. Mind if I hang out a little while? It was kind of boring sitting at the house by myself.” was all that was offered as an explanation.

#She's From Boston #Hawaii Five-0 #H50 #Hawaii Five-0 fic #H50 fic #Steve McGarrett #boo writes

[jemej3m]

Professor

In which Andrew didn’t choose Exy but still chose Neil, which meant Neil had to learn how to talk about something other than stick-ball. 

warning, mention of implied sexual assault/non-con

Lucy had not anticipated what she was dealt. 

Her first day of second year brought a tone of finality to it all: it wasn’t just a year-long dream of terrible decisions and alcohol and chaos. It continued on, and so would she. 

Her first day also happened to bring Professor Andrew Minyard, five feet and blond and utterly terrifying. 

Introducing the course had started off mundane enough, until Eddie Court – an asshole she’d regretted sleeping with dearly – decided to lean over her shoulder. He never got the chance to say anything because a pencil dotted him squarely in his forehead, so hard that a tiny droplet of blood threatened to bead. 

Everyone stared. Shocked, confused, but remaining in complete silence as they  – Lucy included – tried to remember if anyone had mentioned anything about the man, whether or not this was normal or out-of-the-ordinary behaviour. 

“Name.” He sounded bored. 

Eddie rose his fingers to brush his forehead, smearing the tiniest of droplets. He stared at his fingertips, then at Minyard, then at the pencil that had clattered on his desk. Then at Minyard again. “Eddie Court.”

“Court. Christ.” The professor said, with a palpable distaste to his tone. “I will say this once, despite having to repeat it every year, because students seem to get thicker with every new class.” His face was blank. Stone. Lucy had never heard someone utter insults with such apathy. She didn’t know whether or not to be scared or curious: Such a mask was difficult to maintain. “Shut the fuck up, or get the fuck out. Understood?”

Swearing in class. At the students. Completely against protocol. 

Lucy couldn’t help but smile. Just a little. 

Within weeks, the class had learned how to abide by Professor Minyard’s rules. His previous students were sought out, but they merely grinned at the mention of his name. One student dared to ask another law professor, questioning the teaching methods of the criminology expert. They shook their head, leaning to the professor next to them and sharing a laugh, an inside joke that none of the second years were a part of. 

Yet. 

Curiosity won out over fear eventually, and what that said about Lucy, she wasn’t sure. Eventually, he won her respect: The piece of white chalk he’d flung had imbedded itself in her tightly curled hair when she’d fallen asleep at the eight AM lecture on a Tuesday morning. 

“You think I want to be here, Rone?” 

That piece of chalk rested on her bedside table. Lucy didn’t want to be weird, especially considering her professor hadn’t played Exy since college, but he’d played with Neil Josten and Kevin Day. The Neil Josten, and the Kevin Day. And if she had spent nights watching old Palmetto State Fox games, sitting in awe as she watched him flick balls away from the goal like it was absolutely nothing, no one was going to know. 

He was just as apathetic as he had been back then. Lucy had decided he was just emotionless: That didn’t make him any worse at teaching, so it wasn’t really her problem. 

And then she became his problem. 

Her grades had dropped dramatically low. Andrew stared at the results that he’d just drawn up, picked the paper up off the desk, and leaned back in his chair. 

It was a midterm. He’d eyed Lucy Rone’s bad results in the past two mini-quizzes, her surprisingly worsening attendance, and this was enough to force his hand. 

Half an hour later, he was convinced this was abnormal behaviour, if her patterns rang true. 

Caring, caring. Perhaps the internal monologue would never leave him alone, but he knew better than to listen to it’s mocking tone. Watch yourself turn into Wymack, why don’t you. Call Dan and say you’re taking over as coach of the Foxes. 

He almost told himself to shut up, but the chime of his phone snapped him out of his head. It kept chiming and he sighed, picking it up and wedging it between his shoulder and ear, returning to stare at the mark scrawled in the corner of the exam paper. 

“Are you going to be here for dinner?”

“Not if you’re attempting to make something.” Neil had improved past the broke-college-student level of cooking skills, but he wasn’t apt enough to cook dinner without some form of disaster. 

It hadn’t taken long for Andrew to learn the sound of Neil grinning through the phone. A particular tone of voice, a particular exhale. “It’s already done. Just has to be heated up again.”

“Edible?”

“Can’t really be the judge of my own creation, can I?”

“I’ll be home soon.” Andrew liked the way his mouth curled around the word home.”Lucy Rone. Sound like someone problematic to you?”

“Not particularly. Lucy’s always been the name of that old woman sitting on the front porch, knitting. Five cats, crocheting and all.”

“So, you?”

“If old ladies swung heavy sticks at other people, sure.”

Andrew let himself smile. He allowed himself this. The small curl up on his lips. He’d earned that, after all this time. “Sure.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Unusually bad performance. Moved from sitting front and centre to back corner. Shit attendance.”

“You’re probably a much better judge of character than I would be, now.”

Because I’ve studied criminal, suspicious and victimised behaviour for a long time, Andrew wanted to remind him. But this was no longer a sore spot for Neil: He no longer needed to read people’s intentions in need to survive, because he was safe. He could let that overly-analytical part of himself behind. It had been almost 12 years since their first win against Edgar Allen. He was still alive, well. 

Happy, even. 

Hard to believe that was partly Andrew’s fault. 

Focus. 

Andrew emailed Lucy to visit him before their next class at nine o’clock the next morning. 

She was five minutes early, he was five minutes late. He couldn’t say anything about her appearance, considering he was wearing Neil’s jersey under his coat and that he had walked out of the door with a coffee, slippers and nothing to comb his hair with but his fingers. 

His students knew not to say anything. 

Lucy sported a pair of sweats that had her high school’s initials printed on the front, with a pair of exy sticks embroidered just underneath. Her name was printed on the back pocket, and they only just came down to her ankles. 

Exy fan, then. Andrew wouldn’t have guessed. 

She didn’t say anything, sparing him a hollow looking before following him into his office. He’d used to share it, until he’d bribed the finicky financial law to move somewhere else. It was entirely his own space, clean and devoid of decoration. 

He motioned towards the desk and she leaned against it, clutching the binder to her chest. 

Brown skin didn’t usually lose this much of it’s valour, even during winter. 

And winters in South Carolina were hardly anything worth mentioning. 

“Your grades.”

She was staring at the floor. Her eyes didn’t move when she nodded. 

“All I need is a reason.” 

She said nothing. 

“It’d probably be easier on you if you told me. I’m your criminology professor: I’ll find out eventually.”

“I’m not on drugs.” She said, quickly, but not so quickly that it was an immediate red flag. An orange flag. Andrew settled back into his seat and propped his ankle on his knee. 

“Never said you were.”

“I’m fine.” 

Andrew gave her a flat look. “You know who also says that?”

She shook her head. 

“Surely someone who still wears her high school’s exy uniform would have an inkling. Yay-high, hair like a fire-engine siren, mouth like one too.”

Her eyes lit up. “I’ve always wanted to ask if he knows that you wear his old Palmetto jersey. I thought he hated you?”

“I hated him.” Andrew corrected her. “I hate him.” He corrected himself. “And he knows.”

She looked wistful. “Cool.” 

“Lucy.”

She looked back at him. 

“If there’s a problem, you come to me. Alright?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

“Because you can trust me. I can be a lawyer, a therapist, an advice column, what have you.”

“Can I trust you?”

“When you’re ready to.” 

She seemed satisfied enough to nod, murmur a timid thank you, and slipped out the door. 

Lucy banged on the door, feeling sick. She couldn’t go back to her dorm, because it made her want to crawl into a corner and be enveloped in a shadow. To be the smallest, most insignificant thing. 

She wasn’t sure how on earth her criminology professor was supposed to empathise with her, when he was the human embodiment of a brick wall, but here she was, trembling, feverish, panicked, and knocking on his office door at ten o’clock at night. 

He opened the door with a mildly annoyed expression, which flattened out immediately at the sight of her. 

She’d only seen him this morning, but that felt like a whole world away now. 

“Hello.”

She wanted to ask why he was still here, on campus, this late at night. What on earth he could possibly be working on, at ten o’clock on a Tuesday evening. Instead, she blurted: “What does it mean if I didn’t say no?”

He stilled. 

Too much, too much, too much: She had asked too much of him, a middle aged professor who apparently had two cats and a boyfriend, if the senior’s rumours were true. Criminology professor aside, this was the last thing someone like him would want to be dragged into –

He stood aside and motioned for her to come in. She shuffled by him, arms around her stomach. He shut the door. 

Lucy wanted to be sick. 

He pulled a pen out of his pocket – professors always had pens on them, didn’t they? – and tore a corner off a piece of paper, scribbling down a phone number. 

“This woman helped me.” Betsy. “She can help you, too.”

“You said you could be a therapist.” Lucy hedged. 

He sighed, and she’d never seen him so reflective. “I have my limits.”

She nodded. She took the piece of paper. She left. 

“Where the fuck is Court?” Andrew leaned on the edge of his desk at the front of the lecture hall, eyeing the empty seat. Second lesson in a row. 

Lucy Rone sat in front of it, back straight, gaze steady. 

“Suspended.” 

Andrew looked at her. “For how long?”

There was a hesitant smile. “Undetermined. Charges have been pressed against him.” 

Andrew drew a long line through Eddie Court’s name on the attendance.

Lucy waited by the door and saw her professor approaching, with the stack of papers in his hands. She was anxious about this mark, more-so than the others. Her dip in performance would be hard to get back up from, but if she could do it in criminology, she could do it in the rest. There was a cluster of students waiting to get their essay’s grade back, but Lucy was first in line. 

“Yay or nay?” She asked. 

Professor Minyard gave Lucy a flat look, and opened the door. 

Lucy promptly had a heart attack at the man beyond the door. 

“Feet. Off.” Her professor said, looking flatly at Neil Josten, with his feet propped up on the desk, arms folded. He, too, was wearing a faded jersey of the Palmetto Foxes’ colours, but it was too bunched up for Lucy to read the name. 

“Surprise.” Neil Josten said, and Lucy wanted to scream. 

“Get your fucking feet off my fucking desk.” Her professor dropped the large stack of papers next to where Neil Josten had propped up his heavy boots. Neil did not get his fucking feet off the fucking desk. 

Lucy almost had the nerve to scream: do you know who that is? Do you have any clue how famous he was? But she remembered that the two of them were friends. Sort of. She held her tongue, and let her heart thrum in her chest, happy to be completely ignored. 

“Leave.” Professor Minyard flicked Neil in the temple. 

Neil smiled. Neil Josten smiled. 

Lucy was having heart palpitations. 

He slowly drew his feet away from the desk to stand, still smiling. “Have a nice day.”

“You weren’t meant to be here till tomorrow evening, Josten. Explain.”

“You’re busy. Later.”

Lucy watched her professor’s arm reach out to brush along Neil Josten’s forearm as he slid past, and there was a startlingly foreign crinkle of warmth in his eyes. 

The back of Neil’s Palmetto jersey read Minyard. A thin platinum ring, identical to the one her professor wore around his neck, clacked against the doorknob as he pushed it open. She remember her professor occasionally wearing Josten. 

There was a startling curve of her professor’s lips, an almost smile that made him look almost human. 

Neil grinned before slipping out the door. 

Oh, Lucy thought, and then she said it aloud. 

Her professor turned on her, pointing. “If you dare to ask me for a single autograph, I will fail you.” 

Lucy was still smiling. 

“If any word about this gets out, I will fail you.” He warned. 

“Are you married?” Lucy laughed. 

His face was stone. 

“Holy shit. Professor Josten-Minyard. Two cats and a husband.”

“It’s Minyard-Josten.” He said coldly. “Get out.” 

Lucy got out.

By the next class, everyone knew, despite Lucy not breathing a word. Which meant the entirety of Neil Josten’s personal but still public Instagram account displayed his home life. But that was none of his student’s – or anyone’s– business. 

And if Neil started coming in with breakfast on those Tuesday morning lectures during his off season, that was none of their business either. 

#hahahaha this cracks me up #professor minyard #andrew minyard #neil josten #dan wilds #tfc #aftg #professor!au #jem writes

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Reapercussions

Sam finds herself enjoying the fruit of her research, Jazz has a minor internal crisis, and Tucker had a bad night.

While Danny had rushed home to explain to his parents, Tucker and Sam walked first to her house and then Tucker was on his way.  Sam had a large grassy lawn, manicured hedges and shrubs dotting the fence that bordered their entire property. The fresh air smelled of cut grass and flowering plants, a soothing balm to Sam’s nerves.  She’d become a dragon, turned into something fueled by her anger and set fire to the football field. “That’s definitely not how I wanted to protest favoritism for the sports department at all.”

Sam stood in her doorway, thinking back to what she’d read in the book she bought from the Skulk and Lurk.  “If it’s true…” Sam reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a single red oak seed which she had plucked from the trees in the park at the bend of the creek.  “If it’s true I can learn how to be something just like that, but in control of myself.”  Moving into the grass, she dug up a small depression in the earth. “I could do so much for the environment and my friends.”  Sam whispered to the seed, “I return you to the Earth.” She placed the seed. “I claim the gift that is my right.”

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.  Another and Sam stood, sighing in disappointment.  Before she could even think oh well , electricity ran through the framework of her body, lighting up her nerves and filling her bones with a hum of energy.  The world blurred with impossible colors and Sam staggered backward. When everything stopped spinning, she grinned and flexed her fingers.  “Well, time to test this out.”

Jazz looked out at the football field wearing her usual black sweater and a thick jacket her father crocheted for her out of wool.  The chill that ran down her spine could have nothing to do with the Minnesota September chill even if she desperately wished it did.  A construction crew did it’s best to move the overturned bleachers off the field to be disassembled and replaced, but the trench dug in when it slid against the ground were still easily picked out scars in the earth, even from her distance.  The grass was charred where the flames - green flames that took too much water to put out to be natural - had reached - maybe even started.

A dragon.  Danny’s claim was hard to believe, practically impossible, but with the proof of it all laid out in front of her, Jazz could hardly say it was anything else.  It didn’t exactly have to have been a Ghost per say, of course. Their parents were frankly silly for thinking that was possible. But one of the portals, maybe the red portal, opening up and a dragon finding its way out?  Well, opening the portals at all likely created some link between home and the destinations, and if the Stone Henge Incident was any indicator portals could open at any time any place. It was possible they’d simply not looked in the right place for life in the red portal.

Everything beyond it was on fire though so they couldn’t exactly be blamed.

Jazz was struggling to wrap her head around the idea of her baby brother fighting a dragon that could tear apart such a large area in so little time.  How he survived at all, let alone won, was the biggest mystery of Jazz’s life so far. He was barely even 5 feet tall, how could he avoid getting hit? How did he even fight the thing in the first place?  Questions Jazz wasn’t sure she wanted answers to.

One thing is for sure , she thought, the media will try to cover this up with the biggest load, and I want to see what lies they come up with for this .  Pulling out her phone while walking away, Jazz opened up CNN to prepare for the chatter at school.

Danny didn’t have anything against chorus kids, heck he was one in middle school, but this was downright ridiculous.  Sam had been showing off her coolest find yet - actual magick. She turned herself into a barn owl with ink black feathers and flew around the lab in the eerie silence that barn owl feathers granted them.

As though offended that silent phenomena occurred, the air near the portal rippled and flashed with green sparks.  Sam perched on Danny’s head and Tucker nearly dropped his PDA as the green sparks tore the air asunder into a swirling pane of light.  Twelve ghosts, all singing off key and out if harmony, flew from the portal, and it snapped closed as soon as the last pair were out. Quickly fed up with the noise they were making, Tucker took aim with his Wrist Ray ™ and demanded “QUIET!”  One of the ghosts took exception to that, and Tucker felt like he’d had the life drained out of him directly at his shoulder blade, knocking him onto his knees. “ FUCK!”

Danny was filled and surrounded by void faster than ever before, and the nearest Fenton Ecto Rifle ™ was in his hands.  The discharge pushed him back a little but seeing the offending ghost get knocked back and burnt was worth it. Sam returned to Sam form and light rushed from her hands to bathe Tucker, giving him the look of kneeling in the summer sun.

The ghosts evacuated the lab, fleeing the angry teen and his gun while Tucker slowly stood up.  Danny rushed over, hand hovering an inch from Tucker. “Are you ok? That looked like it hurt.”

“Hurt like Dash punching me three times in a row full force.”  Tucker rolled his shoulder and winced. “Still not so good on moving.  Thanks though, Sam, how’d you do that?”

“I have no clue, that wasn’t a spell I spent time studying.”  Sam checked her pistol and and frowned in concern. “You good to move?”

Tucker stretched himself quickly, testing his range of movement.  All things considered, he gave a thumbs up and picked up a Fenton Ecto Pistol ™ himself.  “Yeah. Let’s go hunt down that chorus and hope we can do it by curfew.” Tucker nodded to Danny and the ghost boy grabbed his friends, who held their breath while they were pulled away from it.  Top side they breathed again and got on their scooters immediately.

It took nearly an hour and a half of following the noise, shooting the pairs of ghostly chiormen into submission and sucking them into thermoses, but they rounded them all up.  Thanks to getting the drop on each pair and offering no mercy, the trio was able to catch them in two coordinated shots. Danny hit one, Sam and Tuck the other, then they switched, and the ghosts were down for Tuck to get in the thermos.

Unfortunately, upon getting the last pair near a warehouse on the docks of the river, the Trio found yet another rip in the air, an odd shifting thing that refused to stay as one shape for Tucker and Sam to see.  Helpfully, Danny supplied, “It’s a tesseract. That’s fucking amazing to see, it’s so cool.”

And because Danny had the sheer gall to be impressed by geometry the universe punished his nerdyness by shoving a ghost out of the portal, ethereal form twisting between sizes and shapes before cubic chunks of green settled as a blue skinned man in denim overalls.  Bright red eyes blinked out at the teens and they sighed. Sam nearly had time to say hi when the ghost lifted his hands over his head, wiggling his fingers and shouted at them. “BEWARE!”

“Ok,” Tucker said as he fired his ectopistol at the ghost, blasting him back a bit.  The blue man dodged out of the way when Sam shot at him as well, right into Danny’s reach.  The punch had the ghost backing up into a wall yet again. “This is ridiculous.”

“The only thing ridiculous is how doomed you all are when I, the Box Ghost, destroy you with the power of cardboard!”  Danny snorted at the dramatics of the guy, and despite knowing damn well how dangerous a ghost could be, he found himself laughing.  When a shipping crate from below was lifted up and nearly slammed into him, Danny thanked the stars he had 360 vision. There was an uncomfortable wrongness as the box sailed through him, covered in Box Ghost’s aura of creaking crates, loud machines moving every which way and the impact of something heavy.

“That was legitimately sad.  Did you forget that we’re ghosts?  Boxes aren’t gonna hurt me dude.” Danny bared a ferocious grin as the Box Ghost reared up, looking ready to twiddle his fingers again.  “Also, Box Ghost ?  Really?”  Twin rays of ionized ectoplasm struck the Box Ghost with enough force to push him through the wall intangibly.  “No points for creativity on this guy.”

Danny slipped through the illusionary construct of the wall in front of him - he could so easily see beyond it, just had to look the right way - and stayed intangible as the box ghost threw someone’s stuff at him.  “Literally someone’s fucking mail, dude, why are you so fucking rude?”

Tuck and Sam busted through the door dramatically and Tucker aimed the Fenton Thermos.  “Seal for delivery.” The blue ghost got bluer and soon was gone. Danny dropped to the ground and flipped onto his back.

“Seal, an aquatic mammal in the arctic.  It uh, barks?” Danny looked hopeful. Sam looked less so.

“Sorry brain boy, that is yet another wrong answer.”

“Hey, I’m an Astrophysist, mechanical engineer and artist, not a biologist.”  Danny grumbled. “Speaking of biology, how you doin Tuck?”

Tucker spun the Fenton Thermos ™ on his finger like a basketball.  “I’m feelin a bit sore still but I’ll be way better once we all get home.  There’s still an hour before curfew and that’s all we need to study, right?”  Danny offered a thumbs up and Sam shrugged.

Then the thermos fell from Tucker’s finger right on the release button and all their hard work filled the warehouse before getting away again.  

“Tucker.”

“Yes, Sam?”

“When you’re feeling better I’m going to hurt you.”

“Right.”

Considering it took them over two and a half hours to find and catch - or in Box Ghost’s case splatter - all of the ghosts released by Tuck’s blunder, everyone got home at around midnight, leaving no study time for Danny.  Running a highly demanding brain and body on only five hours of sleep was Not a fun endeavor. Danny inhaled his breakfast, and if an upward glance was anything to go by spiked the electric bill with his secondary eating.

Jazz decided to be gratingly cheery anyway, like she always was.  “Mom! I just got the news from Genius magazine!”  Jazz was holding up a cover of said magazine and Danny rolled his eyes.  “You’re gonna be on the cover!”

“Genius Magazine?”  Dad grabbed up the magazine and stared at it for a moment before a low and potentially upset tone carried out, “is it the swimsuit issue?”

“Dad, please ,” Jazz rolled her eyes and narrowed them.  “this magazine is for, by and about women geniuses!”

“Firstly,” Danny said, holding up his spoon.  “Is Dr. Saturday in it?”

“…No.”

“Then they missed a genius.”  Danny felt his face twist up. “Secondly, I’m trying to eat and you bring up Mom being in the swimsuit issue of a falsely named magazine?”

Jazz ripped the magazine from Dad’s hand and groaned in frustration, her page flipping now the slamming of book covers.  “I signed Mom up so that the world can see that she’s a genius and not a ghost hunting freak!” Danny winced, rubbing his neck.  Sounded like Jazz heard as much of it as he did. Unsurprising, kids were assholes.

“They’re not ghost hunting freaks,” Danny said with only a touch of offense in his tone.  “They’re Ectologists, contracted regularly by the government. They’re also right about ghosts being real.”  Jazz opened her mouth to challenge that claim but even groggy and under fueled Danny’s brain was quick.  “Just check the football field for proof.” Quick but filterless.

“Well sweetie,” Mom said to fill the ringing silence. “If I’m going to be on a cover - which you should ask me for permission for before you go doing it - then I want Jack right there with me.”  Mom pulled Dad’s bulk to her, impossibly, in a hug. “We’re a team after all!”

The man in question beamed and pulled out… something.  Danny didn’t have the brain power to analyze tech at the moment.  “That’s right! Together we built the Ghost Gabber™! It translates the odd noises that a ghost makes, dissonant whispering sounds and all, into language that you and I can understand!”

“In what language?”  Danny frowned. “If you’re gonna sell this - which please don’t this is ridiculous - then it should be in like, all languages you’re gonna sell to right?”

“Mandarin, Spanish, English, Hindi and Arabic so far,” Mom supplied.  Danny nodded and slurped down the last of the milk in his bowl. “It’ll work for any language when it’s done!”

Danny stared at the thing and narrowed his eyes.  “Boo.”

“I am a ghost,” the thing rattled off back to him.  Which, well, fuck. That’s what I was thinking at least.

“It’s busted, responded to human speech.  Or you guys have the worst humor and that’s preprogrammed.”  Danny grabbed his lunch and headed to the door.  “Love you byyye!”

School was as mind numbing as ever, some privately funded construction crew contracted to fix up the whole school as fast as possible.  Luckily only one bathroom was quarantined by the construction, the rest of the damage on the football field. Which meant that Falluca’s test on biology was still a go.  Yay. Brain sluggish from last night’s hunting and lacking on biology knowledge to begin with, Danny was unsurprised yet pissy when he was handed back a D.

Taking their lunches into the library, the Trio ate quickly, everyone still feeling yesterday’s activities.  Soon as he was out of food to shovel in his mouth Danny was glaring at his test again. “I can’t have a D on a test!  I’m a Fenton!”

“The American Public education system is a relic and fails to accurately quantify intelligence.”  Danny stared blankly at Tucker, who shrugged. “Sam’s activism rubs off when she’s right.”

“If I come home with a D my mom’s gonna put me through martial arts training and have Dad  give me lessons on whatever it is I failed on.” Danny waved his paper aggressively. “My Dad teaching me biology guys, it’s horrible!”

“Well since you need to boost that grade I have an extra credit idea for you,” Sam said at one of the computers.  Danny turned to look at her screen and furrowed his brow.

“A purple backed gorilla?  Why is it’s back purple? That’s not a naturally occurring pigment in mammals.”  Danny turned to Tucker. “Right?”

“While I’m the last person you should defer to for knowledge on organic coding, you’re right.  I can only think of birds and uh butterflies? Those can be purple. Rarely though.”

“Extremely rare, only two males left.  Which is why you’re going to write a report studying it on why it deserves to be set free!”  Sam beamed at him with that smile she used when she wanted something out of him. Her aura sounded oddly like the cooing of an owl, with a hint of a cat’s meow.

“I don’t have time for extra credit, or your agendas, Sam.”  Danny groaned. “Gotta find that Box Ghost idiot before he manages to actually hurt someone.”

“Actually,” Tucker cut in, holding up his PDA.  “You do have time. You just need to manage it better.  Which is why I’ve elected myself to be your time manager.  Least I can do after Sam let all those ghosts out.” Sam glared, that meowing turning to a low growl, and Danny tugged on his jacket.

“I dunno…”  Could Tucker be trusted to manage even his own time, let alone Danny’s?

“It’ll be my job to manage your schedule so that you can do your schoolworkand catch that Box Ghost dumbass that Sam let out.”

“You do remember that I can turn into any animal I’ve seen right?”  Sam’s glare intensified, and Tucker swallowed. “I’ve been to the zoo many times, Foley.”

“Remember what happened when I let you manage the thermos, Tucker?”  Danny arched a brow, crossing his arms.

“I’ve already set a reminder,” the geek held up his PDA which flashed with bright green letters.  “Don’t let Tucker handle the Thermos.”

“What the hell?”  Danny sighed. “I guess we can do a trial run.”

“Sweet!  I’ve also scheduled some time for us to go check out that gorilla once classes are over.”

“Before I even said yes to doing a report on it, yay.  Aren’t you just the best?” Danny jabbed Tucker lightly in the arm and frowned when Tucker winced.  “How’s the shoulder?”

“Getting better.  I think I just need to rest.”  Tucker let Danny tug the collar of his shirt down though and Danny couldn’t hold back a gasp.  The flesh where Tucker had been hit looked to have rotted in the shape of a fist. “What?”

“Sam, that thing you did last night with the light, think you can manage that again?”

Sam walked over and sucked on her teeth.  Holding out her shaky hands, Sam willed that summer sun to her fingertips and pushed it into Tucker.  Danny watched, counting the seconds as the cell death was lit up with that rose gold light, burning away in waves until Tucker had a healthy back again.  It was a good thing he did, too, since Sam’s legs wobbled and Danny barely managed to catch her before she fell. “Well shit,” she croaked like she’d swallowed sandpaper.  “Gotta practice that more often.”

Danny and Tucker helped Sam into a chair and Sam gave a thumbs up.  Rolling his shoulder, Tucker’s gaze flickered between his friends rapidly.  “I feel awesome now and all, thank you, but that was a little extreme for a sore back.  That was a bruise, right?”

“No, Tuck,” Sam said between breaths.  “Necrosis. Don’t look it up. Shouldn’t be able to survive something like that untreated.”

For once, Tucker could tell from his friends’ faces that he didn’t need to have this information.  “Maybe… maybe the portal did something to all of us?”

Danny nodded, taking a seat and hoping his lunch didn’t decide it wasn’t too fond of what all he’d seen.  “I uh. Maybe? The radiation from the portal opening might’ve changed you guys too. I had a hazmat on and look what happened to me.”  Danny zipped up his hoodie, shivering. “Stars guys, I’m so sorry .”

“Said the guy who I pressured into the portal,” Sam countered.

“To the guy who coulda said enough is enough and stopped you,” Tucker added, ruining Danny’s angsty bad times.  He had negativity to feel dangit!

“You guys are dumb.”  Danny pulled the two into a tight hug.  “Thanks. I dunno what I’d do without you.”

“Probably finish dying, let’s be real.”  Tucker earned the punch he got from Sam, he really did.

The bell rang, and the Trio sighed.  “Well shit. Time to go back and do all that school stuff.”  Danny pulled away and grabbed up his bag. It was one of the few classes he had without Sam and Tuck next.  “See you guys later.” A few goodbyes later and everyone left to zone out in class and contemplate what that day in the lab had really meant for them.

While Sam was taking in all the key points of the lesson, she was also noting that she knew this part of history like the back of her hand.  The majority of Sam’s attention was on the spell she had jotted down in her notebook over the weekend but never got to actually go over until now.  She’d thought it could wait but with what had happened to Tucker… suppressing a shudder, Sam decided that learning a dedicated healing spell was wise.  By the time school was over, Sam was pretty sure she had the spell down, having written the words down on a notecard while whispering them until she’d filled it.

Once Sam found Tucker and Danny at the exit, she draped her arms over both boys’ shoulders and kept walking.  They caught up to pace quickly enough. “So, the zoo first or looking for Box Ghost first?” The three joked about that name plenty through the day, along with the ghost’s general goofiness, but Sam wondered what had to have killed the guy to have him fixating on boxes.

“Ghost first,” Danny said after a few minutes of contemplation.  “If we catch him right away we can get to the zoo and spend more time fully focused on it.”

It took them a trip home each to grab their scooters, then two hours of searching four different warehouses before the group actually found the Box Ghost.  When they found him he was going through mail yet again, and Danny transformed in a flash next to her. Sam held up her wrist ray, as did Tucker and Danny, who rose up invisibly to get a better angle.  Sam wasn’t sure how they coordinated the way they did but within a beat of each other, Sam, Tuck and Danny all fired on the ghost.

The Box Ghost tumbled backwards and into a wall, shaking his head and glaring at Danny.  A box was surrounded in a nebulous carona of green and rose in the air. “You DARE to attack THE BOX GHOST?!  IMPUDENT CHILD, SUFFER MY CORRIGATED CARDBOAD VENGENCE!” Danny phased through the thrown box, and with two shots from Tucker and Danny both, the ghost was not simply done, but yet another disturbing stain splattered on the wall of the warehouse.

“I hope you’re sure about the whole ‘rebuilding their bodies’ thing Danny.”  Sam didn’t want to be the person who killed a ghost the second time. That’d be beyond cruel.

“I’m sure, Sam.  That dragon ghost burned my ghost away till all that was left was my human body, remember?”  Danny gestured to his entire self, looking and sounding entirely confident. “Pretty sure I rebuilt my ghost body overtime.”

“True enough.”  Sam was still the first one out of the place though, and sighed in relief when Danny went human.  “Alright, to the zoo.”

Sam looked out from the observation deck binoculars at Sampson, taking her turn on gorilla watch.  “He’s so beautiful, so intelligent, so majestic!” Watching the gorilla pace in his cage Sam was sure he would be infinitely happier in the wild.

“What we’ve learned thus far, Sam, is that gorillas like to scratch their butts.”  Danny yawned, turning to Tucker. “How long have we taken to learn that?”

“Five hours.”  Tucker yawned, sitting on the floor.

“Time flies when you’re majestically scratching your butt.”

“C’mon guys, we could learn something about Sampson no one else has!”  A thought occurred and Sam turned to Danny. “You should try commun- oh.  Wow.” The boys were on the floor, both clearly conked out from the lack of sleep last night.  And Danny rolled over to cuddle Tucker in his sleep, which was sickeningly cute. “Maybe there’s a spell for it in my book… in the meantime…” Sam took a picture of the boys, chuckling.  “To the scrapbook it goes for when these idiots finally get a clue.”

By the time she got to the gorilla enclosure, she heard a loud roar from elsewhere in the zoo.  Presuming it was just a tiger or two waking up, Sam looked into the cage to see Sampson pulling on the bars of the door to his cage.  “You poor creature, stuck in here when you should be in the jungle.” Sampson saw Sam standing there and pulled even harder on the door, howling at her and staring desperately.  “…You want out?”

Sam decided to use her own Dumbass Teenager Action of the month and blame it on her own sleep deprivation.  She also blamed it on the control panel having an easy to get to, easy to use Open Cage button.

Sampson practically flew out of his cage and Sam followed after him.  She stopped, shock freezing her muscles up as Sampson tackled to the ground a… “Is that a fucking robot?”

The man made of steel and wearing black leather and a shoulder pad kicked Sampson off and Sam found herself caught between rolling her eyes at the mohawk and goatee made of green fire and backing away from the glowing ghost robot.

Sampson charged again immediately after being thrown, knocking the robot to the ground and rolling onto his back.  Sam felt herself laugh as the robot was tossed around by Sampson’s feet but it all felt so unreal. Is this what my life has come to?

Sampson was blinded by goo and Sam felt it time to act.  Reaching into her pocket, Sam pulled out a yellow rose she had collected from home for such an occasion.  Holding the rose with the petals in her palm, Sam whispered the spell she’d practiced maybe a bit too much.  That rush of warmth flowed from the center of her chest down her hand and into the rose. It grew, quickly, into a long whip with inch long thorns on it.  Directing it more with her mind than her hand, Sam swung her weapon at the ghost and the thorny vine lashed around his arm. Hooked into the arm, Sam yanked on it with the vine and pulled whatever weapon he had in mind off course.  A net launched out of a compartment too small for it and Sam held up her other hand, which had her wrist ray attached. “Zoo’s closed asshole.”

The shot of ionized ectoplasm left a crack in the shoulder plate of the robot’s armor.  He raised his other arm and the barrel of a cannon sprung up from his wrist. “You are in the way of my hunt, wench.”  Sam jumped to her left just in time, the returned fire striking the ground where her feet were moments ago. “You and that damned ape.  Thought I’d gotten the last one with me.” Speaking of, Sampson got the gunk out of his eyes and charged the hunter again, though the ghost dodged out of the way, phasing through a backhanded swing.

“So you’re the one who went around poaching the furs of purplebacked gorillas?  This is your fault? ”  Sam felt her blood boil and fired off another shot with her wrist ray, leaving another dent in the robot and knocking the ghost back.  “They’re going to go extinct because of you!”

“All the more reason to get the last ones in my home.  Unfortunately, you can put several bullets into something and it can still eat you before it realizes it’s supposed to be dead.”  The robot looked down at his body, which was now beginning to spark up, and growled. “Let’s see how well you can replicate that, shall we?”

Before the ghost could fire his cannon at Sam, Sampson grabbed him up from behind and tossed the ghost hard.  Sam’s whip fell to the ground as a rose once more, stem ripped in half. Scooping it up, she ran to the observation deck to get to Danny and Tucker.  “GUYS, GUYS WAKE UP!” Filling the rose with magick again, the stem grew out into a whip once more and she send it flying to the highest rung of the ladder it could reach.  It wound around the metal, clinging tight, and Sam willed it to shrink back to normal size, carrying her with it. The muscles in her arm burned with the strain of pulling herself up into the air like that, but the teen survived it.  Opening the door she saw the robot ready to pounce on her friends, and fired another shot. “Fuck off!”

Between the sound of her Wrist Ray™ going off, the robot stumbling backward and Sam’s naturally loud voice, it was no surprise when Danny and Tucker jolted upward in each other’s arms screaming.  Sampson leapt in through the open door howling in rage and tackled the robot to a table, slamming both fists onto his back. Sparks and pieces flew everywhere, and the ghost reached back with a strain to it’s hydraulics that Sam could hear even past the boys’ screaming.  Sampson was tossed off of the robot but immediately charged after him again, and the ghost vanished from sight.

“Holyshitholyshitholyshit!”  With that flash of light that Sam couldn’t look directly at, Danny was a ghost and grabbing up a raging Sampson by his underarms, flying off toward his enclosure.  Sam let out a sigh as she watched Danny put Sampson back and lock his cruel cage back up. When her friend came back, Sam waved. “ Why did you think lettin a gorilla out was a good idea?”

“He seemed pretty desperate to get out.”  Tucker had his mouth open and Sam covered it with a hand.  “We should go to Danny’s house immediately. There was a ghost here, a fucking robot with a flaming mohawk, and I think he was after Danny cause he didn’t come back to fight me or Sampson when we threw him in this general direction.”  Danny raised his hand and slowly gestured to the wall that had been destroyed by said ghost crashing in. “yes, the ghost being thrown by a gorilla may or may not have made this hole in the wall.” Thankfully the wall pieces were mostly in the observation deck.  And so, Sam held up her hands and started pulling on her magick. While utilizing the first spell she learned to put the wall back together, she explained what happened.

Danny flew them and their scooters back to his house himself.  While Sam and Tucker both got changed for a sleepover, Danny went down to the basement for something, coming back with a look of relief on his face.  “I hope Agatha doesn’t need to go back to the Zone tonight cause the Fentonworks defense system is primed and ready to fire on any ectosignatures it finds for the next 8 hours.”

“You have a… you know what never mind.”  Sam shook her head. “Of course you do. Let’s just… go to sleep and talk about what to do next in the morning, ok?”  Tucker and Danny agreed with her and the three of them found some spot in Danny’s bed, drifting off to sleep.

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Tucker Foley #Sam Manson #Jazz Fenton #Box Ghost #Maddie Fenton #Jack Fenton #Drew Saturday #Skulker #Fanfiction #Phanfiction #Homo Ecto Sapiens