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Language:
English
Series:
Part 582 of one-shots , Part 167 of DP one-shots , Part 192 of Collab stories , Part 324 of Modern AU , Part 118 of Ceci Spirit , Part 118 of Specter14's AU , Part 49 of Journaling , Part 502 of gift fic , Part 523 of collection stories , Part 304 of Nicktoons One-shots
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Ceci Spirit Reverse Halfa AU
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Published:
2025-04-02
Words:
378
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1/1
Comments:
4
Kudos:
4
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2
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121

Journaling 49

Summary:

After their chaotic meeting at the diner Box Ghost decided to write down his feelings about in his own crazy way.

Notes:

For Both Journals:
"Dear Diary" Moment – Both Barnaby and Carl are essentially journaling their thoughts, even if they're using unconventional materials (boxes and junk mail).

"We’re Not So Different" – Both characters realize they share a common struggle despite their differences.

"Tragicomic" – Their dramatic frustrations are played for humor, but there’s a genuine emotional core to their grievances.

"The Unappreciated One" – A key theme in both entries; they both feel ignored by the living despite their important roles.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

 

 

Journaling Title Card

 

 

 

 

 

The warehouse stood abandoned, forgotten by the living, but it was the perfect sanctuary for Barnaby Bubbleton—no, the Box Ghost! He drifted through the dimly lit aisles, his translucent form flickering against the rusted shelves. Cardboard boxes were stacked in uneven towers, their surfaces smooth and waiting.

With a dramatic flourish, he summoned a thick marker from the void and uncapped it with his teeth. The scent of ink filled the stale air as he scrawled his thoughts across the first box, his grip unsteady, his letters barely legible.

"I, THE BOX GHOST, HAVE EXPERIENCED A MOST UNEXPECTED EVENING!!!"

He moved to another box, pressing the marker hard enough to make it squeak.

"Through fate’s mysterious whim, I have encountered a kindred spirit—nay, a fellow VICTIM of this cruel existence!"

He floated back, admiring his work, then scowled. The words slanted downhill, growing messier. Whatever. The truth had no need for neatness.

He scribbled furiously on another box.

"This world does NOT RESPECT the forces that uphold it! The sacred domain of the Box is MOCKED! The noble art of MAIL is TAKEN FOR GRANTED! Does the living world not see? DO THEY NOT UNDERSTAND?!"

A dramatic pause. He turned, grabbed another box, and continued.

"And yet, despite such injustice… I have found an ally. Carl Clatterbuck (a name both ridiculous and CURSED) shares my burden!"

Barnaby winced at the sight of his own name scrawled in messy ink. Ugh. Why did I write that? His face—if it could—would have turned a shade of blue deeper than usual.

He let the marker drop, floating back to survey his masterpiece. The boxes, now tattooed with his frustrations, stood solemnly in the flickering warehouse light.

With a dramatic sigh, he drifted to the floor, reaching into his spectral void of storage. His fingers closed around the small paper bag, crinkling slightly as he pulled it out. The donuts. The ones Carl had given him.

Slowly, cautiously, he lifted one. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but when he bit down, the powdered sugar dissolved on his tongue, the soft dough melting into an explosion of sweetness.

His eyes widened.

Then, in a whisper barely above silence, he muttered:

"Perhaps… some things are worth delivering after all."

Notes:

For Barnaby’s Journal (Box Ghost):
"Overly Long Gag" – His overly dramatic writing and all-caps ranting are both funny and exhausting in a way that fits his character.

"Cursed with Awesome" – He hates his real name, but it makes him strangely endearing.

"Write Back to the Future" – While he’s not literally writing to the future, he’s using his surroundings (the boxes) to leave behind his thoughts.

"Self-Demonstrating Article" – Complains about not being respected while writing on abandoned, ignored boxes.