#ty writes

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You rolled over in your bed, the usually comforting plush of your mattress feeling awfully cold today. You sighed, closing your eyes and quietly hoping to just fall back to sleep. Things had been… difficult recently. Losing your job had definitely taken its toll on you – on your mental health in particular. Even when working from home, you still had to make the time to leave every so often and interact with the real world. But with everything that had happened recently with the dateviators, you hadn’t been able to leave at all.

Of course, you still had the objects. And they were great company! Most of them anyway. But it didn’t stop you from feeling a bit… alone sometimes. You sighed softly, finally accepting the fact that sleep wasn’t coming. You looked over to your end table at the dateviators. You had a lot to do. It was really overwhelming, honestly. You hadn’t even met all of the objects in the house yet, let alone made any progress towards realising any. You had made a lot of close friends through them though. And even one very special, different relationship…

Even just thinking of Mateo brought a slight smile to your face, cheering up your bleak mood ever so slightly. If you’d told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d soon be dating your blanket… well, considering your track record with love, it wouldn’t be all that surprising.

You bit your lip, reaching over to the dateviators. You popped them on, blinking at the warm, pink hue that enveloped your vision. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to this. In a second, Betty had materialised in front of you, perched on the edge of the bed – or uh, on the edge of herself. She gave you a soft smile.

“How’re you feeling today, gorgeous?”

You made a face. “Well for starters, I don’t feel very gorgeous,” you reply groggily, sitting up as you wiped a hand over your tired face.

She chuckled. “Sweetie, you’re always gorgeous to me. But what’s got you so down? You barely slept last night, or the night before… should I be offended?” She was clearly joking, but there was a definite tone of concern in her voice.

“Nah, it’s not you, it’s me,” you admit, looking down at the sheets. “I just… I don’t know. I feel so… heavy? I’m so tired, all the time. Which makes no sense, let’s be real, I’m doing nothing all day but..” You trail off, unsure of how to word it. “I just can’t sleep though. I can’t relax. I feel so tense all the time and I don’t see a way out of it. Easier to just lay in bed, I guess,”

She looks at you, worry in her eyes. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked. You try your best to force a smile.

“Not really. I think it’s just… something I have to deal with on my own,”

She frowned. “Honey, I don’t think-”

“I’ll see you tonight, Betty. Thanks for the talk,” you said quickly, standing up and heading to the bathroom, leaving Betty sitting on the bed, her face twisted in concern.

-------------

You’d spent most of the day dodging the other objects. Mateo especially. You just couldn’t bring yourself to talk to anyone right now. You left the dateviators on the table next to you, doom scrolling on your phone until the socially acceptable time to hit the hay. You were planning to go straight to bed, not call on anyone with the dateviators. The idea of bothering any of them, of forcing them to sit and listen to your silly problems was excruciating. But as you settled down into bed, trying in vain to close your eyes and let sleep come for you, there was only one thing on your mind.

You knew how upset Mateo would be if he knew you were avoiding him, especially if he knew it was because you weren’t feeling the greatest. Helping others is what drove him, it was the one thing he took pride in the most. He’d never let you wallow in your own self pity. You glanced at the glasses on your bedside table and sighed in defeat. You slid them on slowly.

You hadn’t even had them on for a few seconds before Mateo was materialising. You didn’t expect him to be right here, waiting for you. He was usually in the living room, caring for the inanimals. That man never took a break. When you saw the worried expression on his sweet face, you wanted to break down there and then.

“Ah mi vida, finally!” He said, sitting down onto the edge of the bed. “I’ve been waiting for you all day,”

You flushed in embarrassment. So he’d been watching your pathetic display of self-loathing, huh? “Sorry, Mateo… I’ve just been, um, tired,” you said, avoiding his eyes. If there was anything in this world that could make you immediately spill all your darkest secrets, it was Mateo’s big, brown eyes.

“I’ve noticed… my love, I’m worried about you. Betty came to me earlier and told me you haven’t been sleeping. Is that true?” He asked tactfully.

“Betty said that?” Betrayal, you thought.

“She was worried. Honestly, a lot of us have been worried. You haven’t been acting like yourself for a while now. If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, you know you just have to ask, right? I would do anything for you,” he said, a small blush rising to his cheeks. “I mean, I’d hope you’d know that…”

You finally look at him, truly seeing the concern on his features. His bedhead was especially messy today, as though he’d been running his hand through it every five seconds. His usual easy smile was replaced with a small frown and you realised something. In that moment, you would do anything to see that smile again. As you were preoccupied with gazing into his eyes, Mateo took this opportunity to place his hand over yours. His touch was feather soft as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. You could almost feel your anxiety melting away.

You finally spoke.

“Mateo?”

“Yes, amor?”

“Could… could we cuddle?”

You ignore the burning in your cheeks and make your request, looking down at his hand still on yours. You focused on his touch. His touch seemed to make many things a whole lot easier.

At your words, a huge grin took over Mateo’s face. “You never even have to ask,” he said, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a soft kiss onto the back of it.

You manoeuvred yourself so there would be room for Mateo beside you, turning so your back was towards him. He wasted no time in enveloping you in his arms, pulling you into the comforting warmth of his chest. His face snuggled into the crook of your neck and he took a deep breath in.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this. The inanimals have missed you too…”

An arrow of guilt hit you right in the heart.

“I’m really sorry, ‘Teo… I-”

“You have no reason to be sorry, amor. Look, I can tell you’re struggling right now. And there’s nothing wrong with that at all, you have nothing to be ashamed about. But you have people around you that can help share your load, okay? You taught me that when we first met. When you bottle it all inside, it’s just too heavy for one person to handle. I want to help you. Please let me,”

Tasty---Cookies:

Does What a Coincidence! count? I'm still working on the last few chapters...

Soul and a Half

Tarot Truthlessage

King's Jester

Just get the worms out, not gonna be a long fic

healeraisinfount

most of these wips will never be actually completed and are mere writing exercises, but i still consider them WIPS. Though some are already completd and I just haven't released them to the public for edits....

and then for the styck figure ones....

Shadow of your former self? nah, shadow of someone else LMAOOO

Perscription Glasses with Rose Tinted Lenses

Synthdragn

Avmxcrk

who do i tag. um.

It hadn’t been Buck’s intention to end up in the hospital again. Given the choice however, he would do it all again. He and Eddie had been sent back into the crumbling building for one final sweep. There were reports that there should still have been a family in the building. Neither man knew at the time, but the family wasn’t even in the state at the time of the fire. The two had searched where they could before the orders were given to evacuate. Eddie ran in front, with Buck close behind in. The creaks were ominous in the building. Buck only saw the ceiling starting to cave because he was further back. There wasn’t enough time to do anything. He knew Eddie would be mad at him. It was a risk Buck was willing to take to be sure Eddie was safe.

Buck sped up and shoved Eddie outside the door. He watched for a split second as Eddie stumbled but made it out. His relief was brief, as Buck felt one of the ceiling beams hit the side of his helmet and fall onto his shoulder. He had broken enough bones to know that he definitely broke his collarbone and potentially his shoulder. He considered himself lucky that it was only the end of the beam and he could get himself out. He did know if he hadn’t shoved Eddie, odds were Buck would not have been hit, but Eddie would have. 

It didn’t matter to Buck if he got hurt. What was another broken bone. It was more time off work, probably some grueling physical therapy, a session with a therapist to remind everyone he was fine. Yes, Buck did always calculate the risks, it was just he would rather he get hurt and see all of his friends safe. 

The two made it far enough from the building they could have a second to recover without worrying about the building. They both ripped off their helmet and mask, taking deep breathes. Buck saw the anger brewing behind Eddie’s eyes. He knew Eddie would be mad at him. Eddie almost always was a little mad when he got hurt, especially when it was at the expense of someone else. Safest course of action here was to avoid the confrontation now. He could handle being yelled at once they were off the scene, once he knew for sure Eddie would be safe from the building. He could never explain to Eddie why he did what he did. There was no way to express his feelings on it that were healthy. It was something he should eventually address, but he sometimes just wanted Eddie to hear him out. Let him know that yes, he knew he was important to those around him but it was always just easiest for Buck to be the one getting injured. He could tell Eddie was about to start yelling, but their radios crackled to life.

“Buckley, Diaz. Come in.” Bobby’s voice came through the speaker. 

Before Eddie could even think of saying anything back, Buck made sure to speak first. “We both made it out before it came down Cap. Whole place was empty, so the family must have gotten out a different exit. We’re heading back your way.”

Buck started walking back towards the trucks. They were on the far side of the building, so it wouldn’t be the quickest walk. He did not need to say anything to Eddie, knowing he would be following behind. The dull throbbing on his right side was getting worse. He could have told Bobby over the radio, but it wouldn’t have done any good. Hen and Chim could take care of it when he got back to the ambulance, as long as there weren’t any patients who needed it more. He was pretty sure he could help still. He couldn’t man the hose, but he could be in charge of the water flow. He only needed one arm for that. 

“Buck. Stop. You can’t keep doing this!” Eddie shouted. He still hadn’t started to follow Buck yet. Buck kept walking. He really did not want to have this conversation right now. Based on the heavy footfalls, he didn’t get much of a choice in that. Eddie was suddenly in front of him, blocking his way forward. “We would have made it out fine, you didn’t need to risk yourself to make sure I got out.”

“We both got out fine, we need to get back to Cap to go help with the rest of the fire.” Buck was trying to keep his tone level, but he could tell he probably had a concussion. Between Eddie’s voice and all of the other sounds that came with a structure fire he knew what the pounding in his head meant. He tried to step around Eddie, but the older man moved into his way. “Eddie, we have to get back.”

“No Buck. This is the third time in the last week you’ve done something like this. I can’t keep standing by as you just keep putting yourself in harms way.” Eddie was trying to reason with him, Buck knew that. He just didn’t want to hear it. Not now at least. He could let Eddie be upset once they were back with the team.

“We have a job to do. You can yell at me later.” Buck started to walk around Eddie, but there was suddenly a searing pain in his arm. He stifled down his cry he wanted to let out, but a whimper slipped past his lips. He prayed that Eddie didn’t hear it over the other sounds. However, his luck for the day had run out. 

“Are you injured? Did something catch you? Why didn’t you say anything?” Eddie’s anger turned to worry. He tried to start undoing Buck’s turnout jacket so he could inspect whatever damage it was hiding. 

Buck pushed his hands away. Eddie looked hazy, but it must have been smoke from the fire. “I’m fine Eddie, Cap’s going to send someone to look for us if we spend much longer here and it’s not safe for them.” 

“You always say how you hate when I’m hurt. Why can’t you understand it might be the same for me. Please just let me look.” Eddie was pleading now. 

Buck got it, normally. He knew that Eddie cared. He wanted Buck to be safe. It was one of the many things he loved about Eddie. But he was in pain, and he could feel all the adrenaline crashing completely only making it worse. If he was able to think straight, he would have realized that the concussion was worse than he thought. It was a real miracle Eddie wasn’t picking up on the symptoms. 

“I know it isn’t the same Eddie, and you know it.” Buck spoke through gritted teeth. An wave of nausea came over him. He swallowed the bile down. He couldn’t read the emotions in Eddie’s eyes now. Normally he could. He knew what he was looking at, but his head was fuzzy. It was just outside his grasp. 

“What do you mean it isn’t the same? We’re partners. We look out for each other.” Eddie’s tone was soft. That was a bad sign. It meant he knew something was up. Buck was not going to be able to hide his injury. At this point he didn’t plan on it, but he just wanted to be away from the roaring fire. 

“Because I fucking love you”  Buck shouted at Eddie. Buck’s anger drained out of him, and so did his consciousness. He remembered falling to the ground. He could hear Eddie yelling at him again.

“Evan!” 

Buck didn’t remember much besides flashes of the ambulance, and the bright white lights of the hospital. When he finally came back to some level of consciousness, he didn’t want to open his eyes. He did slowly crack them open. The lights in his room had been significantly dimmed. He felt floating in the way that indicated he was on the heavy painkillers. He didn’t love being on them, but from what little he remembered it was probably best to not feel whatever was going on with his shoulder. It was in a hard cast that he could feel wrapping around his torso. Must have been a pretty substantial break. 

--

That is, until he noticed it while getting changed one day.

When a ghost bested another in battle, they earned a tattoo in glowing, ghostly ink, representative of their victory. There’s no rhyme or reason to where they appear, only that they will eventually. The thing was, Danny didn’t know this. His parents never got close enough to a ghost that won fights to have any data on it, and since he never seemed to get any he figured it was just a fashion statement.

The tattoo was small, barely larger than a golf ball, and glowing a faint, neon green. It appeared to be a small target with long crosshairs extending from the edges, done in green ink so dark it almost looked black. If it weren’t for the crosshairs, he would’ve thought it a weird bruise, especially since the only reason he’d noticed it was that he’d bumped that arm on the counter while getting out of the shower.

He quickly checked himself for any other mystery tattoos, even twisting around to try and see his back, but couldn’t find any others. Granted, he may just be unable to notice them around the still-healing bruises and faintly glowing scars, but at least there weren’t any other noticeable ones. He sighed in relief, before realizing he’d have to figure out how to hide the one he did have from his parents. They were already on edge from him breaking curfew so many times, he didn’t want to give them any more of a reason to think he was going off the deep end.

It was a bit too low on his bicep to be covered by a t-shirt, but it was getting colder anyway, so that was less of a problem. He couldn’t wear long sleeves forever though, so he needed to find a solution. Fast.

--

Between school, ghosts, and trying to get even a crumb of decent sleep, Danny forgot about the tattoo. Could you blame him? It’s not like he spent all day staring at his arm, so its easy to forget about. At least, he forgot about it up until Tucker asked about it.

“The what?” he asked, confused. Tucker raised an eyebrow, obviously just as confused.

“Your tattoo? On your arm?” he repeated, gesturing at said limb. “I didn’t notice at first, but it looks pretty neat. Still, where’d you get it? I don’t think there’s anywhere that’d do a teenager,” he added, crossing his arms.

Danny blanked for a second, gears turning, before he remembered. “OH! That, yeah. I didn’t get it done anywhere. It just showed up one day, I think it’s a ghost thing,” he explained, finishing pulling a new shirt over his head. He caught Tucker’s incredulous expression out of the corner of his eye, and waved his hands like he was trying to bat away the suspicion. “It’s true! I noticed it....I dunno, like a week ago? I bumped my arm getting out of the shower, so I thought it was just a weird bruise. I know it’s a ghost thing because it’s glowing, I don’t think human tattoos do that,” he said, slightly defensively.

He offered his arm to Tucker, who squinted at the target like he was trying to dissect the very ink it was made of. He jumped back slightly, eyes wide, when the tattoo seemed to move, pulsing slightly like it didn’t enjoy the attention. “Okay yeah, definitely a ghost thing. Why though? I didn’t think ghosts had tattoo artists,” he said, stepping back and fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. Danny shrugged slightly, pulling on a hoodie and sitting heavily on his bed.

“No clue. Most ghosts I’ve fought have em, except the animal ones. Boxy and Skulker don’t, but I think in Skulker’s case it’s that I don’t see his actual self very often. I never saw any on myself, so I never thought about it,” he explained. Tucker gave him a flat look, and Danny squirmed slightly. “What?” he asked, slightly defensive.

“Dude.....you wear a full-body hazmat. Of course you’ve never noticed any, you aren’t showing any skin!” he said, laughing slightly. Danny blinked, before facepalming.

“I completely forgot about that,” he muttered. Then, he perked up slightly. “Think I could remove the suit? I know I can take off the hood, but think the rest of it comes off?” he asked, now fully invested.

“I mean, only one way to find out, but let’s call Sam first. She’d kill us if we did this without her,” Tucker said, pulling out his phone. Danny shivered, nodding quickly.

--

Once Sam was caught up to speed, they locked the door to Danny’s room and shut the curtains. No need to invite trouble, even if his parents weren’t planning on coming out of the lab any time soon. Sam and Tucker looked away when he switched forms, the bright electricity sparking brightly before fading away. “You’re good,” he said, taking off the hood to his suit. No matter how many times he took it off, it always came back the next time he changed. Strange, but he didn’t think about it too long. He didn’t want to risk remembering, so he never gave it more than a passing thought.

“Okay, can you take the gloves off?” Sam asked. Danny hesitated, before shaking his head.

“No, they’re attached. Mom says it’s to reduce risk of stuff getting in from the sleeve. Same with the boots,” he explained. “I’m pretty sure there’s clothes under here though, it’s a pullover suit,” he added. Just in case, he turned around before fumbling with the zipper, thick gloves making it hard to maneuver. He managed to get it unzipped, relaxing slightly when he saw the t-shirt under the suit. He turned around, unzipping it the rest of the way, and pulled his arms out of the suit’s sleeves. He wasn’t worried about putting it back on, as he figured it’d do the same as the hood.

“Dude, those pants are ugly as hell,” Tucker said. Danny blinked, looked down, and grimaced. Color swapped denim was apparently an eyesore, the regular dark blue having turned into a truly disgusting bright orange.

Sam shook Tucker’s shoulder slightly, practically bouncing in place. “Forget the jeans, look at his arms!” she said, grinning widely. Danny laughed, remembering the whole reason he’d taken the suit off in the first place. He looked at his arms, not expecting much more than the target-shaped tattoo he’d noticed earlier, but he was taken aback to see his arms were almost completely covered in ink.

Twisting vines spiraled down his left arm, with sharp thorns appearing to dig into his skin. His scars cut through the vines, seeming to originate from a thick patch of stormy, ink-wash style clouds. The target was still there, but none of the vines cut through it. Instead, they appeared to be going around the target, which had its crosshairs centered on a patch of skin with a small skull and crossbones.

The other arm had what looked like sheet music spiraling down his arm, with flaming music notes scattered along the staff. Shards of what looked like broken glass was poking out from under his sleeve, disappearing under his shirt. “Woah....” he said softly, enamored with the intricacy of the designs. He pulled his shirt and sports bra over his head, holding them in front of his chest. He twisted slightly to get a better look, seeing the shards were actually falling out of a familiar mirror. “Is that.....Is that Sidney’s mirror?” he asked, turning slightly so they could see. He was startled by the sound of a camera shutter, jumping slightly and resisting the urge to turn around.

“Sorry, sorry! It’s just uh....Your back,” Sam explained, holding her phone guiltily. He sighed, pulling his shirt back over his head and moving to sit next to them.

“It’s fine, not a big deal. Not like this, anyway,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “What was it?”

Sam opened the gallery, holding her phone out so both he and Tucker could see the photo. The first thing Danny noticed was the thick webbing of his death scar spiraling out over his left shoulder, glowing a toxic, poisonous green. He forced his eyes away from it, focusing instead on the large tattoo taking up the entirety of his upper back. It had two hands with intricate, swirling designs covering the palms, cradling a flaming crown of thorns. The crown sat above two long horns, one broken and snapped in half. Below the horns was a single green eye and two dragon wings, the whole thing looking like some sort of crest.

Parts of it looked familiar, now that he was focused on it. The eye looked to be the same as Dora’s amulet, and the wings just reinforced that theory. The crown was obviously the Crown of Fire, which would probably make the horns be Pariah Dark’s. The only one he couldn’t figure out were the hands, as they seemed a little out of place. He shelved it for now, looking at the other tattoos dotted around his hips. One looked to be a neon green circuit board pattern, wrapping around his ribs on his left side. On the right was a large, opened cardboard box with two glaring eyes peering out from the shadowy darkness within. Two cartoony chicken legs were floating out of the box, and he started to realize why he was so inked up.

“These tattoos..........they’re the ghosts I’ve fought.....” he muttered. As soon as he said it, it felt true. “No, wait. Not just fought, but.....beaten, I think.” He stopped, eyes widening. “It’s coming through to my human form. If I keep fighting ghosts....Eventually, I think my parents are gonna find out.”

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