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often-daydreaming · 23 hours

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Time Out

If you've seen The Sandman episode A Hope in Hell then you already know what I'm talking about but what if when the Justice League tries to summon the Ghost King for any number of reasons only they get Clockwork instead who forces them (or any hero really but I'm thinking of one of the Flashes or maybe Wonder Woman since Constantine has his own game planned for him) to play his favorite game, the oldest game and they have to win or else. He could genuinely be angry, I actually want to see a furious Clockwork more than ready to undo the very existence of the planet for daring to summon his protege but I can kind of see him messing around a little and playing up the whole titan of time, father of Zeus thing with the heroes as payback for messing around with the timelines so much.

It doesn't matter either way. What the Justice League wants isn't worth mentioning since Clockwork erased it from existence with barely a fraction of effort.

The biggest concern that has the entirety of Young Justice worried is the fact that the only person who got a free pass during that mess of a summoning was Bart and nobody can figure out why. Clockwork was more than willing to end the man of steel. He despised the other heroes and seemed annoyed at the sight of so many speedsters gathered together but after surveying the meeting room they used for the summoning he looked surprised then a little amused at the sight of Young Justice, smiling at Bart like he was genuinely happy to see him back there with the rest of his team. There wasn't even any mention of erasing his existence or anything as colorful as the threat against Constantine which was just rude. He could be a threat if he wanted (even if he kind of puffed up like an angry kitten when Clockwork started treating him like he was one of his grandsons) but he doesn't know (can't remember) that all of the Ancients and at least a dozen different pantheons have him on a very short list of people the Ghost King would gladly end the multiverse for after everything his past self/alternate did during the whole Dan problem. In Clockwork's eyes Bart has more than earned a free pass across the wider multiverse.

Cause, the thing is, the rest of the heroes might have died fighting for the world but the Bart from the darker timeline, the one who helped Danny traverse a literal apocalypse and pointed out way too many holes in Vlad's little monologue died saving Danny's life when Dan was trying to mess with the timeline which meant he unknowingly has the Ghost King's blessing and anything and everything on the more darker side of the supernatural can see the enormous 'Do Not Approach' sign that was basically Danny's mark (a necklace, pen, invisible magic whatever or something small he keeps on him without knowing why) claiming Bart as off limits.

Go mess with any other hero if you want, but this speedster, this little guy right here who has Clockwork treating him like a grandson has the Ghost King's blessing, the only blessing he's ever given out, permission to race across the crossroads of Infinity and the protection of a lot of powerful eldritch gods.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #bart allen #danny phantom

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just-a-sewer-goblin · 14 hours

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Part 6 of Butcher!Simon x gn!reader We get a glimpse of the boy's groupchat too, in this. Simon is still down bad. I feel like the quality of the chapters declined but I hope it'll get back to how it was soon Gonna toss this out there and hide

So you don’t immediately agree to go to the concert with him. Which, you know, kinda sucks. It would have been so perfect but he gets it. You wouldn’t be allowed to bring your mutt with you and he’s basically still a stranger to you (insanity, because he feels about ready to ask for your hand in marriage) so it would have actually been a surprise if you said yes.

Somehow though, he has no idea how, he convinced you to go get a coffee with him some time.

“How about a deal then?”

You’d perked up, one brow raised skeptically (an expression which had him fight the urge to get on his knees) and asked: “What kind of deal?”

“We’ll go get coffee together. And if you decide ‘m trustworthy enough, you’ll reconsider going wi’ me.”

You’d tilted your head at that brows furrowed adorably and he’d desperately wanted to kiss the cute creases between your brows and smooth them away with his thumb.

He stood stock still as you seemed to appraise him, looking him up and down. Your gaze way more intense than he anticipated but he found that he didn’t mind being looked at as long as it was you looking at him (god, he hoped you never stopped looking at him, please don’t stop looking at him).

Then you’d nodded and he felt his shoulders drop, having held them tensely in expectation.

“I want to decide where”, you’d asserted and he’d immediately agreed with a: “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t know what he’d be doing if you hadn’t agreed. Probably mope around at Gaz’ bar because that would have meant his chances of getting to know you are pretty much zero.

You did agree though and Simon is about ready to slap himself when he catches himself in front of his mirror with two nearly identical black shirts. Since when did he turn into someone with “I don’t know what to wear!” problems?

Since you. Simple as that and he’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t alone at home. The thought of meeting you for coffee makes him smile. He catches the soft raise of the corners of his lips and curiously watches himself in the mirror.

It’s weird, seeing himself smile and suddenly he’s even more giddy. He can’t wait to see you and make you his (whoa, there, he's gotta convince you he's harmless first, harmless to you at least).

For a second he wonders if you're going crazy over what to wear too (probably not but he can hope) and then he decides that it doesn't matter. He gets to meet you, that's the only important thing.

Honestly you could show up naked and he’d be ecstatic (okay that’s a horrible example, because he would be indeed ecstatic). No, you could show up looking like you couldn't care less and he'd be thankful that you didn't forget about meeting him.

He looks at himself in the mirror, sighs over his thoughts and decides on one of the shirts.

It’s no use, no matter what he wears he can’t hide that he’s big and burly and he prays that you won’t be put off (you seemed fine at the shop but how will you feel in another setting?).

He’ll be damned if he doesn’t do everything in his power to make the date enjoyable for you.

His phone vibrates and he looks at a text from Johnny in the 'Tea is for the weak' group chat (Johnny the little shit made it and refused to change the name).

🧼: Can we meet up today instead of the usual?

Normally Simon would immediately be on board and feel horrible if he missed their weekly night out, but this time a smirk plays on his lips when he answeres:

💀: No can do, got a date

He sets his phone aside and a second later the chat blows up.

🧼: DATE?

🧼: GHOST?

🧼: DETAILS???

Captain Price: Gonna need a debrief, Son

Gazelle: Tell me it’s the cutie you keep raving on about

🧼: No way

💀: Coffee date with the cutie

🧼: ABOUT DAMN TIME LT

🧼: Thought you’d lost your balls along with your uniform

💀: don’t project, Johnny boy

🧼: Uncalled for!

🧼: Just checked, still got both

💀: Yet I'm the one with the date

Gazelle: How about we make it at 2200 so you can come too?

Captain Price: Sound good, want the details

🧼: HELL YEAH

💀: you’re insufferable

Captain Price: You better show

💀: Affirmative, Sir

#the sewer writes #butcher!simon x gn!reader #butcher!simon x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #tf 141 #cod x reader

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zmediaoutlet · 1 day

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This world without apocalypse—or demons, or angels, or magic of any kind, as far as Dean can tell—is… fine. It's a craphole for all the normal reasons, what with climate change and war and gas over three bunks a gallon. But—as far as Dean can tell, if he went down to the ghost highway in Nevada it'd really just be a dumb story kids tell each other at summer camp and not something that'd get his lungs torn out through his throat. If he went down to a crossroads and buried his face and name in the midnight dirt, he'd just be down a decent fake ID.

It's not like the dream he had all those years ago, when the djinn tried to give him a fantasy that was rotten through its core. This world is sterile. All the problems it has, problems of its own making, with no fate or angels or anyone trying to load the dice. You die here and—you die, and that's all. Your body rots into the earth and grass grows from the dirt above and there's no heaven or hell and no deals to be made and no responsibility to things beyond the concrete meat in front of you. Freedom, more bare and wild than anything he'd ever imagined.

He's gotten through about half the bottle, eyes dry and sore from reading, when Sam reappears, looking harried. "Hey there, People's Sexiest Man 2010," Dean says. At least there's Sam's face, when he hears it. "You think they send you a plaque or something for that?"

"If they do, this guy's probably got it in a trophy room," Sam says, revolted. His eyes drift down from the terrible gigantic version of himself behind Dean's back and to Dean's face, which for some reason makes him frown even if Dean's just—what, he's sitting here. "What?"

"How was—" Dean gestures vaguely at the ceiling. He wandered through the house while Sam was doing his own search, saw the master bedroom with its california king mattress and the his-and-hers bedside tables and the gallon-sized bottle of Wet in the drawer. Sue him, he investigates shit for a living. "You were gone a while."

Sam's mouth gets thin. Prissy bitch. "Don't laugh," he says, and ignores Dean immediately saying no promises. "Said I had a headache. She applied, like. Essential oils. Said we needed to re-align my chakras."

Dean sits back in his chair, something tense that had been wrapping itself around his spine slowly uncoiling. "Tell me she used a crystal," he says.

"Amethyst," Sam says, grim, and Dean whoops. "Dude, this world sucks."

"Oh, I dunno," Dean says, kicking his boots up onto the desk. He lifts the glass of stupid-expensive scotch he's nearly drained. "Got some perks, at least."

Sam comes around the edge of the desk, takes the glass out of his hand, and drains it. Dean would sock him one but, hey, he had some not-Ruby weirdo alpaca owner trying to align his chakras with a purple rock. Instead he leans over and pours Sam another inch or two of liquid gold. He expects him to knock it straight back but Sam only sighs, leans his hip against the desk next to Dean's boots. His thigh against Dean's calf, warm. Real, in a way all this strange day has hardly felt. Like he's been walking around a dumb Hollywood set, like if he threw a punch it'd crack through cheap painted cardboard, but then here was Sam and—there was the world, as it should be. More or less.

"People's Sexiest Man?" Sam says, after a few seconds.

Dean snorts. "People's Choice, too, for… something or other. Looks like we don't win real awards but the fans are into it. Probably for all those abs." Sam rolls his eyes, sitting back on the desk. He sets a boot on the chair next to Dean's ass so their legs press against each other, hip to ankle. "I don't know, man. It's… look, you're rich, you're a movie star or something, you're married. Demons are a crappy special effect. It doesn't one hundred percent suck."

"Genevieve says we had an affair," Sam says. Dean chokes on air, coughs, and Sam hands the glass of scotch back over. Smiling slightly, the bitch. "She wanted to use positive language about—healing with honest communication, or something. We had a huge fight but I guess they managed to cover it up and now you basically live in your trailer. Well, not you—Jason Ackles, or whatever. She thinks I've been trying to make up with you."

"Can't resist this even in an alternate universe," Dean says, when he's recovered his air. An affair. Jesus.

Sam sighs at him. "I hate this house," he says. He slides his hand under Dean's calf, pressing their knees together. "I don't care about alpacas. I don't want to be People's Choice for anything. I'll take all the crap that comes with it if I have to but I want to be home, where I've got my own name and you've got yours, and we're—who we are. Sound good?"

Dean bites the inside of his cheek. Sam raises his eyebrows, waiting. "Yeah, okay," Dean says, voice miraculously clear, and gets Sam to squeeze his calf, to lean forward. His hand sliding up Dean's thigh, his eyes steady on Dean's. Dean swallows, catches Sam's fingers. This free thing spreading wings under his breastbone. "Just—Sammy," he says, and Sam hums, eyes dropping to his mouth. "Maybe we can steal that bottle of Wet before we go?"

#happy wincest wednesday #my writing #ww lottery #a random ficlet for episode 119 #genevieve being determinedly Enlightened about her husband fucking a man made me laugh #what can i say #otherwise this is just some words strung together #streak unbroken

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meduseld · 9 months

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Would Nick and Ziggy & their relationship survive living in a haunted house?

You mean other than the ones they live in now?

That's a joke but also not, Ziggy's house is haunted by her trauma and ever before Nightwing by the specter of generational trauma and familial alcholism, not to mention the fact that Shadyside itself is all quite literally haunted by Satan through his earthly agents.

Which brings us to Nick's haunted house of horrors, not just by generations of literally mass murderous Goode men but like. It's quite literally build over a Satanic Sacrifice Temple full of bodies and the very literal, very pissed off ghost of Sarah Fier. There's no house in the entirety of Union County that *isn't* haunted.

Basically since any house they live in, together or separately is a haunted house, that detail becomes a moot point in the survivability of the relationship. Which I think hinges on Nick's capacity or lack thereof for honesty about the nature of said haunting.

That all being said, if you mean they live in a more literally haunted house aka Sarah's flickering their lights and knocking glasses of the counter well. That's living with a cat and they can cope lol.

#this ask got stuck in my drafts for a bit but I really wanted to get to it #Ghosts are kind of the least of their problems so #Do like the mental image of Sarah knocking Nick's things out of his hands and Ziggy laughing bc c'mon. It's funny #nick x ziggy

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autisticlee · 1 year

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I always think about how nice and fun it would be to have friend who have the same interests and enjoy doing the same things as me.

but the reality is, most of the people I call friend or who try to be my friend have almost nothing in common with me. our interests are always different. we don't enjoy any of the same activities. there's never anything to talk about or do together. our vibes and energy dont match. our goals are different. it's a struggle to have a conversation beyond the dreaded small talk or figure out what to do if we hang out.

I usually try to befriend people based on a shared interest, usually being my special interest. usually that's the only thing we have in common, but it brings us together and we bond amazingly at first. once one or both of us lose interest in the thing, we slowly stop talking until we never speak again.

I never know how to talk to people I dont have anything in common with, especially if it's not the base of our friendship. I never learned how to do that. I often see allistics being friends when they don't seem to share interests of talk/hang out based on a shared interest and it confuses me. I don't understand how they do that. I wish I could. maybe it would be easier for people to not become bored of me or boring to me 😅

it still sounds nice to have friends that I have many things in common with, always have a thing to talk about and share with each other, and always have something to do together that we enjoy. how do you even find people like that 🥹

#lee rambles #autistic #autism #actually autistic #autism things #adhd #adhd things #audhd #i feel like this for me at least is both an autism and an adhd thing #either im super focused on my special interest more than them and its all i talk about and they get bored #or i jump interests too fast out of boredom and they don't care about those things and theres nothing to talk about #autistic friendship #adhd friendships #friendship problems #i had a friend really close to this though and ot was great....but then she replaced me or chose others over me and threw me out #i didnt see a problem but she decided she liked our other friends better and everyone decided to ghost me and alienate me #was great while it lasted. i want that again but better. no weird shady business and cutting me off #more common interests and sharing more together #we kind of grew some interests together and that was great. i'll take more of that #but she also was too closed off and detached so it was too easy for her to push me away....#i was a temporary replacement for her best friend who moved away and lost interest in her interests #them i got replaced by her new best friends. and i introduced them all together and was the one who got kicked out wtf🥲#oops i lost track of what i was talking about and now im just rambling in the tags like a lonely loser lmao oops #i havent talked about that whole situation here yet though. maybe one day i'll post about it here.#i think i posted it all on twitter so ill take that and paste it here one day maybe #or write a short post. idk

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death-rebirth-senshi · 5 months

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Society if Aqua got a more fully fleshed out moveset in kh3...

#spellweaver was cool but it has similar problems to BBS combat #somewhat mitigated by the fact that Aqua is herself a floaty mage type #but it makes combat in spellweaver kind of annoying at times.#I was mostly thinking “spellweaver should come with magic damage bonuses etc.”#ghost drive always sucked #Aqua may have been the worst character to play as in BBS. Or at least. She didn't get good personal. What were they called?#Command styles? Drive Forms? Whatever she didn't get enough personal ones to show off her personal style #spellweaver was always leagues above Terra and Ven's starter command styles though. I wish you could turn the elemental ones off #Looking at the mirage staff and thinking “Aqua deserves this”. It's really cool #games don't go all out with magic staffs often and let them be as flashy as swords or something so I'm really happy with it.#the regular combos the shotlock and the dodge clones shooting magic thing. All very neat.

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softgrungeprophet · 6 months

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sometimes when i make a playlist i don't care about the order... sometimes all i care about is that it's book-ended by two specific songs or that it starts or ends with a particular song, but other than that it doesn't matter.

and sometimes i have to inject artificial softening so i can transition more smoothly into a romantic soul song after ramping the playlist up to nine inch nails...

#like tonal dissonance isn't necessarily an issue for me—god knows my liked songs are all over the place but this is just a playlist where #i'm trying to do something specific and that something specific is... well. it's tonal dissonance on purpose but it also needs to be gradua #it's ALSO bookended by two brand new songs inside of that structure #think of unchained melody here as a like... secret track on an album...#except i can't figure out any songs that would fit here that end in thirty seconds of silence #thus dancing with a ghost which is admittedly not silent but at least ramps DOWN from NIN #part of the problem is just that the recording for unchained melody starts really abruptly so uh. it's kind of sudden.#nadia rambles #actually the metric song that kicks this playlist off is also intended as a bookend in conversation with unchained melody—#stylistically and as an oblique reference to the righteous bros song of the same name *taps head three times*#it's 1 am okay

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prismit · 8 months

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found a way to fix the weird problem where the home button on desktop tumblr doesn't work when endless scrolling is off unless you click it twice! i don't know if anyone else has the problem, but i'll share what i did anyways. also i accidentally posted this once before finishing typing it out so sorry if you saw that one :')

anyways, it's not the most elegant solution, but it's pretty simple and i don't know why i didn't think of it earlier lol. just get a browser extension that can change where links take you! the one i got is called Redirector by Einar Egilsson, which is the first one that came up and seems to have the best reviews out of what i could find.

then you just want to set it up so "https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard" takes you to "https://www.tumblr.com/" instead. problem solved! it does refresh the whole tab, so it's a little bit slower (especially if you have other extentions like dashboard unfucker), but it's worth it if you're REALLY annoyed by having to click something twice.

more specific instructions for the aforementioned extension under the cut, because it took me a minute to get it working.

go to the extension's settings, create a new redirect, and enter the following:

Description: (anything) Example URL: https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard Include pattern: https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard Redirect to: https://www.tumblr.com/ Pattern type: Regular Expression Pattern Description: (anything) ADVANCED OPTIONS Exclude pattern: (leave this blank) Process matches: No Processing Apply to: HistoryState Save

and that should do it! note that if you do this while you currently have tumblr open on any page of the dashboard, going to the next or previous page will trigger it to activate and you'll lose your place. this only happens the first time, and everything should work completely fine after that.

#ghost town... 2!#tutorial #btw yeah i contacted support and they couldn't recreate the issue and so weren't able to help me.. i still have no idea what causes it #for me it does it on any browser and any computer; even with all extensions + security settings + antivirus disabled #so it's weird that i can't find ANY mention of this problem anywhere. if anyone else has experienced this please let me know lmao #anyways i guess it has something to do with “HistoryState” since that's the only one that needs to be checked for the extension to work #but i'm not tech savvy enough to figure out anything further than that #i'm just glad i've found something to kind of fix it at least lmao

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ceilidho · 3 months

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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 2; ghoap x reader) part 1

The hard part is admitting to himself that he doesn’t know how to function on leave without Ghost’s voice in his ear.

Johnny’s two days into his annual leave when that stray thought crosses his brain. Out with chums even, packed into the booth of an old pub in his hometown, the leather well-worn and a match on the telly that he half watches while one of his mates goes up to the bar to order another round for them. In between his third and fourth pint of lukewarm mild, he thinks something like, wonder what Simon’s up to.

The thought comes and then keeps coming. Keeps cropping up when he least expects. At the pub (wonder what Simon’s up to), in line at the grocery store (wonder how Ghost takes his steak), drowsily puttering around the kitchen while making breakfast (no way he wears the mask at home), listening to some guy in front of him hack up a lung at the dry cleaner (Lt’d do his fuckin’ head in if he was here), and even in the shower with his head tipped back, rinsing out the suds (wonder if he’s got a girl tucked away at home).

Is it so unusual? Johnny can’t remember a time in his life when someone lived in his head night and day, but Ghost’s presence feels like an extension of his own these days. He’s cycled through girlfriends without a care in the world, without contemplating their existence for half as long, but they never cradled his life like a small bird in the palm of their hands and returned it safe and sound, did they?

Still, he feels it like a knot in his chest. Dreams about Ghost even; wakes up hot and hard, and scrubs his hand down the side of his face when he sits up in bed. Phantom memories of a body heavier than his weighing him down (just the duvet) and a thick hand curling around his dick (his own hand wrapped around his shaft, rubbing one out in his sleep).

He shakes it off, but it follows him out into the real world. Looking at the door of a coffee shop and thinking absentmindedly, Ghost would have to duck under that.

Johnny puts it out of his mind. As much as he’s able to, that is. Chalks it up to some kind of hero worship. He’s worked with superior officers before—plenty of times, hundreds of times—but there are few men of Ghost’s calibre, both in skillset and mystique. Not to mention the sheer size of the guy. And what is Johnny if not a moth to a flame?

Better not to ruminate. He casts the memory of seeing Ghost’s dick in the showers after their last mission (monstrous thing, uncut, pubes darker than the hair on his head, more than a mouthful—it’d give him lockjaw) out of his head. Doesn’t think about it. Laughs at a mate’s joke at the pub when he didn’t catch a word of it to mask the way he perked up at the sight of a wide-shoulder man until he turned around, giving Johnny a proper look at his face.

He’s not ready to think about it. Might never be able to really look at why he eats it up, why he struts around with his chin cocked just a bit higher than usual because he knows everyone else is watching him with equal parts envy and curiosity for being Ghost’s favourite.

Then, one day, he meets a girl.

Johnny’s not winning an award any time soon for world’s best son, but he knows a thing or two. The first thing being chocolates and the second being flowers. His sisters handle the rest; they fuss about the party, get a gift certificate to the spa, send out the invites—all that fun stuff. He’s sent off for the bare essentials. Practically kicked out of the house by his oldest sister—nearly brains himself on the asphalt and tugs his windbreaker on when it’s thrown out the door after him a second later, grumbling about being the errand boy.

He picks up a box of chocolates from the corner shop (not fancy enough, his sisters will probably bitch, but that’s a problem for later) before heading down the road to the florist. There’s a bench out front stacked with tin flower vases, the only spot of colour on a dreary spring morning. He spends a couple minutes chatting with the cashier and flirting a bit halfheartedly (he thinks maybe it’ll be worth it if it gets him a discount, even five percent off) until the florist comes out from the back.

“Jesus, who gave ye the right?” Johnny breathes, horse blinders on, vision narrowing on the object of desire coming out of the back in a linen apron and simple t-shirt underneath, scissors poking out of the front pocket.

“The right?” she repeats back, blinking.

“To leave the house lookin’ so fuckin’ gorgeous. Glad I wasn’t driving when I passed you by—woulda been in a twenty car pile up.”

She’s not impressed in the slightest. It’s thrilling. By that point, the cashier is long forgotten. Probably not the best impression he’s ever made, but he’s made worse ones. It’s not every day he comes across an angel. Hard to be polite in front of a real life miracle.

He wears her down over the week though, showing up each day for a new bouquet. His mam’s never liked him more, so at least there’s that. His sisters side-eye him whenever he ducks out of the house to head down the road to the florist’s, but even they know better than to bring it up and risk pissing off their mam. He interrogates her about flowers and her job, makes his presence unavoidable, a week long siege that ends with Johnny taking her out to dinner and then letting her take him to bed.

He wakes up nestled in her cozy apartment above the flower shop, stretching out and making himself right at home. When she trades in her linen apron for a terry cloth robe and stands expectantly by the door, Johnny just grins. Shows all of his teeth.

“Are ye just gonna use me and kick me out?” he pouts. Folds his hands behind his head and digs a foot into the sheets, trying to sink into the mattress. Little king in his castle.

“You know, you don’t have to pussyfoot around with me. Weren’t you just trying to get laid?” she asks, brow arched. The disbelief thick in her voice makes it clear what she thinks of him.

“No’ just some playboy, hen,” he scoffs. “I have feelings too.”

Her other eyebrow lifts. He’s tickled pink.

He plays the part well, he supposes. Lounges in bed and eats grapes all morning while she stares at him from the kitchen like he might dissipate at any moment. He’s used to leaving a false impression, like a lake that someone builds their house next to until years go by and someone says I think this was once a meteor.

When she comes back to bed around mid morning, Johnny wastes no time pulling her up onto the bed until she plants her cunt over his mouth and sinks down onto his waiting tongue.

Candy sweet pussy, he thinks blissfully, then says it out loud because he can never keep his mouth shut. It must tickle because she yelps and nearly pulls away from his face altogether, but he wrenches her back down, fingers digging into her ass cheeks a bit too forcefully. He’ll pay for that later.

In the aftermath, when she collapses beside him in bed and rests her head on his chest while he plays with her hair, he itches in his skin to message Ghost. It perplexes him. They never text, he and Ghost; they don’t call, they don’t write, they don’t email. For all intents and purposes, their relationship ends at the perimeter around base, dissolves to nothing. It’s not Ghost’s fault he trickles into Johnny’s dreams sometimes.

A week goes by. Calm the mind. He thinks of Ghost and his fingers tremble and the phone stays silent and he lets the thought go. Steady. Breathe in and out. His caryatid girl slips in and out of his sheets, hesitant always like he might leave. Johnny doesn’t know if she wants him to, wants to feel vindicated in her assumption, but of all her wants, that ranks the lowest in his mind.

He spirals deeper into it, infatuated. She’s sweet but snippy, candy sweet with a sour kick—everything he’s ever wanted in a girl. Ever unimpressed, watching him with a small, hidden smile, amused despite herself.

Johnny wonders if this is the universe waving its hand in front of his face. Yoohoo, missing something?

He looks pointedly away.

It’s new, but maybe he’s like every other military man in the world, unable to go with the flow, dissatisfied with seeing where things go. He needs instant gratification, everything now-now-now, the certainty of commitment—he spills blood with everyone he knows, so why would his girl be any different?

Returning back to base is harder this time around. The last day of his leave is an exercise in restraint, tempered only by her smile when he sees her off at the door to her apartment, reluctant to leave.

“C’mon, promise me you’ll call, hen,” Johnny mumbles into her mouth, catching her answer with a languid swipe of his tongue. His arms press her tight to his chest, digging his hands into her back pockets and giving a good squeeze, relishing in the way she squeaks. “How’m I gonna survive without ye, huh? They’re gonna have to jumpstart my heart after it gives out from missing ye so bad.”

“So dramatic. You have my number,” she says when he finally pulls back enough to let her speak.

“No, please, baby, please—promise me—”

“Oh my god, alright, fine—I’ll call. Now get going already.”

The drive back to base leaves him feeling bedraggled, lost. When he gets in, it’s straight to the barracks, an hour long nap before reporting to Price, dragging his feet the whole way over. Moping, for lack of a better word, until he rounds a corner and nearly collides with someone that stops him with a single hand on his shoulder.

When he looks up to eyes rimmed in black paint, the world lightens. His shoulders lift.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Johnny.”

It takes Johnny awhile to bring her up with Ghost. Something keeps holding him back, choking him when he tries to say it outloud. He blames it on uncertainty (had to be sure she was the one, Lt, ye ken?) but he feels the truth at the core of him. When he does finally muster up the nerve to pass his phone to Ghost where her photo is front and centre, no mistaking his intentions, he waits on tenterhooks for a reaction.

Only breathes out when Ghost asks to meet her. He can do that.

“Aye, Lt. Just for you.”

#99% chance im gonna edit this to fuck before i post it on ao3 because im trying to properly balance the pov switch #also its not done yet #ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost/soap/reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #ghost/reader #soap/reader

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jaxon-exe · 11 months

Text

Fighting for Friendship

So Danny ends up in Gotham, how is up to u, but he is put in the same class as Damian.

Now Gotham is weird. Amity Park is weird to. But they r two different kinds of weird. Like Amity park is the “oh ur a bit weird, cool, so is everyone” kinda weird where Gotham is the “wait ur weird?? Fuck ur gonna be a rogue ain’t u?? Get tf away from me. Go have ur villain origin story over there” kinda weird.

So Danny can’t really make any friends bc he’s weird weird. Tho he’s not the only one in his class with this problem. The other guy, Damian Wayne, mainly sticks to himself and seems to be the only sane person in this school. Well, to Danny at least. This made Danny want to befriend him. Even if only to not be alone in his suffering. More than that Danny can feel the traces of ectoplasm on him! Even more reason for him to be friend shaped.

The problem is Damian seems to be in denial about his friend shapeness. Well to bad for him if Danny is one thing it’s stubborn. But dammit Damian seems to be a new level of stubborn. Nothing Danny does works!! It’s almost like this kid is from a different world or at least a different time!! Before he gives up however he has one last attempt. All or nothing!!

So he spends an inter week annoying the fuck outta Damian!! Looks it’s not a smart plan but it is a desperate one. It is also a plan that works a bit better than expected!!

He started his plan on Monday and it took til Friday for Damian to crack. After a full day of maximum annoyance Danny started following Damian home. They made it several blocks before Damian dragged him into a nearby alley and started swinging.

Now this Danny understood!!!

The universal language of ghost, Violence!!!

So the two beat the shit out of each other and r pretty evenly matched. Both of them r on even levels when it comes to speed and battle awareness and while Damian is definitely the better trained Danny is stronger and more durable. Needless to say the fight goes on for awhile.

A few hours later Damian and Danny shuffle into Wayne manor looking like they lost a fight with a wood chipper and when Bruce goes to ask what happen Danny just smiles and goes- We’re friends now

With Damian nodding in agreement

#dp x dc #danny fenton #damian wayne #batfam #danny phantom

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 3 months

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DPXDC prompt: Valentine's day spirit. Superbat edition.

When Phantom sets foot on the Justice League base many years later, he expects anything but not Flash pointing finger at him and screaming about "legendary child who made Superbat canon".

~~~~

Being in Metropolis because of a ghost hunt right in the middle of a battle between Lex Luthor and Superman was not the best outcome, especially considering that Jack had his three-year-old son with him. But without such a combination of circumstances, they would never have found out that "Ghost!" "Daddy, no!" Ectoblast that Jack shot at the target of their hunt touches Superman and..really hurts him.

There were two sides to Danny-the ghostbuster's son and the astronerd. It is clear which half of him did not have a chance to win.

Danny threw his space rocket toy aside and grabbed father's arm. In the next second, boy had already sunk his teeth into Jack's fingers, forcing him to drop weapon. Youngling quickly jumped off and picked up ectoblast and then ran towards Superman. "Fly away! I'll hold him!" Danny stood up to try to cover up ghost (or alien?) in case Dad took not one but a whole bunch of shooting things with him again.

Jack: Get away from my son, ghost. Superman: Sir, I'm sure this is some kind of misunderstanding, I'm not a ghost. Jack: Danny, come to me, he's trying to hide his identity and manipulate us. Danny: No. If the heroes are being attacked, then someone must protect them too. Jack: But he's a ghost.. Danny: Alien or ghost is not so important, Daddy. He's in pain, and he's protecting this city, not haunting it. It's wrong to try to catch him for experiments. I forbid you to do that. Jack: Danny, champ, you're wrong.

Lex: Hah, what an interesting substance. Despite the other aggregate state, or rather its absence, it is so similar to kryptonite. Superman: Lex, is this a portable lab? Now is not the time, in case you haven't noticed. Lex: There is always time for science. I think my colleague will agree, right? "Similar to kryptonite?" Jack muttered to himself.

Jack: So Superman wasn't my target. And we are not colleagues. There is only one insanely rich man with questionable moral values with whom I am ready to do work, and your surname is clearly not Masters. Lex: It's a pity, but still, if you want to carry out the delivery of your wonderful weapons or exchange experiences, then call this number. Luther quickly shoves a business card into Fenton's hand. Jack*throws it away*: Come on, son, let's go back to the hotel, you've skinned your knees.

~~~The Evening. The Roof of the mentioned hotel~~~

"My friend Sam is also very frightening. And she also likes dark.“ The boy paused for a minute of thinking. “You want to kiss your goth friend?" "W-What makes you think that, kid. We’re colleagues, I respect him very much and.." "So you want to. It’s okay, I’d like to kiss Sam too but I’m afraid she’s gonna hit me. You have the same problem?" "It’s a little more complicated for adults." Kal begins to explain but stumbles upon Danny’s completely unimpressed look. Yeah, this boy apparently has heard 'kids would understand when they grow up' lectures at least thousand times. "But you’re basically right."

~~~~

When Batman himself comes to their hotel the next day as a representative of the Justice League to make sure that Mr. Fenton has no desire to harm Superman in the future and to tell that Superman is not going to press charges because of the ectoblast that injured him, Danny refuses to leave the room.

Jack: Oh, Danny, I thought you dropped your space rocket yesterday, it's a good that Alicia's Christmas present isn't lost. Danny: Well, dad, I left it on the roof of a bad bad man, yeah, but Uncle Kal returned it last night and we talked for a while. Jack: About what? Space, my little star? *Father immediately assumes that Danny would like to ask about everything real alien*. Boy*blushes and shakes his head negatively*: No, not about it.

Jack: Then what it was about? Danny: Secret superhero things. I can't tell you. I agreed to withhold that information as part of a pinky swear. Batman: And what about me, young man? You can tell me, right? Batman couldn't resist talking with such a cute kid. The boy thinks only for a second before hurriedly trying to push his father out of the room. Danny: Dad, come out for a minute and don't eavesdrop. I'll tell you when you can come in. The big man laughingly obeys. Lil child checks the reliability of the closed door and runs up to Batman. Danny: And so, Mr. Batman, first promise not to laugh or hit Uncle Kal. Batman: I promise? Danny: Good. This is very important information. Batman: I'm listening.

Danny: He thinks you're terrifying and wants to kiss you. And since he is afraid that you will hit him for this, I recommended him to appease you with a pie cooked according to his mother's recipe. Well, you know, since you love sweets and his parents' farm has the most wonderful apples in all states. He rarely cooks himself, but he will try for you, so even if he doesn't succeed, pretend that you liked it, please. Batman:...

Batman: Would you like to work in intelligence for the Justice League when you grow up? Danny: Actually, I want to be an astronaut. Batman: Our base is located in space. Danny:

Danny: Hmm, then I'll think about your offer.

Batman: Great. It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Fenton. You can count on a job recommendation from me. Do you want anything as compensation for your consultation? Danny: Actually, yes. Mr. Batman, tell me honestly, are you a bat on a frugivorous diet like Giant golden-crowned flying fox or you are a Vampire Bat? Sam says that such a big bat can only be a vegetarian and uncle Kal said your son was more than happy to steal strawberries from his garden with Superboy but..

~~~

Batman tries to behave naturally for a week. However, the sweet tooth inside him still makes him clamp Superman in the corner and question him. "Where the hell are the pies you promised to cook for me, Clark?"

#dpxdc prompt #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp #superbat

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months

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Hi, I just found your blog, and I love your Simon's fics! I was wondering if i could please request something where Reader and Simon had broken up bc he thought he put her in danger. After a few months, he comes to her after a mission and they spend the night but he leaves before she wakes up thinking hes doing whats best (and all that angsty jazz 🥲🤭) . A few weeks after she finds out shes pregnant and decides to take on her own, as reader thinks simon wouldnt care. But maybe one of the guys see her heavy preggo and tell simon, and hes fuming and super protective mode is on.

Sorry if it is too specific and for the terrible english. I just have this idea, and i dont think i can picture it right. Anyway, thanks for reading this and for your good work on your fics 💗 hope you have a lovely day

—Digging Gaze

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞

You knew it was the effects of a less-than-gentle breakup, but you should have at least cursed him out before you let him have his way with you on the living room couch. You’d woken up back in bed, alone, and had gotten dropped back to where you had been weeks earlier—stuck in the throws of confusion and hurt.

Simon had left you, and he never gave you a reason.

A part of you was heated; pissed off and feeling betrayed by the insult, yet, the rest of you knew that Simon needed to have his reasons—he always did. Even if you didn’t agree with them, and you knew he tended to look at life with a glass-half-empty type of glance.

So that left you here.

You were pregnant.

You’d found out two weeks after you’d slept together for that last time, your cheeks still hot from the memory and your fingers clutching the plastic of a test.

Pregnant.

It had been a shock, a deep panic. The both of you had been reckless. Stupid. And while you had stared at those two pink lines, you felt a sinking in your gut akin to a drowning ship. Should you tell him? It would be proper, of course.

But you don’t think you can face him again after you’d awaken to an empty bed—as if your entire relationship had only been about sex and not the deep nights of confessions and soft brushes of skin. You knew Simon Riley better than he probably knew himself.

And you wouldn’t put this on him.

At seven months, you couldn’t walk as much as you could before—and you would huff for breath as you went up the stairs to change the sheets—but who else could do it but you? Shopping also fell to you, and so, you pushed a large cart around and packed the metal basket with cravings and necessities. That was when you fell to a familiar face.

“Johnny?” You ask, blinking.

The Scot pauses, turning. His brows furrowed for a moment before a kind smile peeled his lips back.

“Hen!” He comes closer, laughing. “Well, I haven’t seen you in a good minute, then. What have you been up to in all—”

The man freezes at the sight of your stomach, jaw going slack as you fight an internal war with yourself to say pleasantries and leave.

“Hell,” Johnny clears his throat. “I guess you’ve been doin’ a great deal.”

You sigh, shaking your head softly. “Thanks, Johnny.”

“I’m just joking, Little Lady.” The man laughs and waves a hand. “Who’s the lucky man then? I’ll have to meet him one of these days.”

Your face blanks and your lips snap shut in an instant.

Blue eyes wait for an answer as the silence laps over itself. Slowly but surely, the realization dawns on his face in a tight pull of horror.

“You can’t tell him,” you interrupt his tight gasp. “Not a peep, MacTavish, you hear?”

“What the fuck,” he breathes at you, hand coming up to his mouth as he glances down at your swelling bump. “Holy hell.”

“Johnny,” you snap, his eyes jerk back to you.

“It’s bloody Ghost’s—”

“You can’t,” you growl, coming closer, “tell him.”

“What do you mean I can’t tell him,” Johnny hisses under his breath, looking at the people passing by and lowering his tone. “You’re pregnant and he doesn’t know!”

“That’s the point,” you ease out, exasperated and feeling drained already. Jesus, you needed to go lay down—your back was killing you. “Johnny,” you breathe, growing softer as you reach out a hand and put it to his arm. He grips it and holds on, looking incredibly concerned. “He doesn’t need to know, okay? That’s a lot of stress on him, and you know what he does for work. Even worrying about me was hard on him, what do you think a child would do?”

“You can’t think like that,” the Scot mutters. “He can help—what, you mean to tell me you plan to do this by yourself?” It isn’t malicious how he says it; Johnny’s worried about you. Incredibly. “Hen, no,” he shakes his head. “No, you can’t.”

“I can, Johnny,” you frown, dread filling your heart. “And I will.”

In the future, you really had to take into account Johnny’s flapping lips when under the spell of alcohol. Maybe you had enough faith in him to watch himself for the last little while of your pregnancy as he had into the latter half of the eighth month.

And then three firm knocks were at your door, and when you opened it, you were face to face with a painted balaclava and frazzled brown eyes.

Those eyes immediately snap down, and not even a word is uttered to your face until then.

The both of you are stone-still. Frozen. Dead to all else.

You swear it was hours of this—standing in the doorway with Simon’s fingers stiff in his pockets and his chest not even moving in a pulse or flare of his lungs. He doesn’t even blink.

“How far along?” His voice is monotone. A low drone in the ringing of your ears.

Damn that Scot.

“Eight and a half,” you say quietly.

Brown eyes shift up to yours. Simon stares, and you see his jaw clench under his balaclava, his shoulders moving. Again a long pause.

“When’s the next appointment—”

“It’s a girl.” You see his eyelids peel back and halt there, watching you. “In case you care to stick around and see her.”

Cruel perhaps, but it was nothing short of how he acted while leaving you.

Simon’s hidden face is slack, stuttering silently for a moment as the light fades outside.

“Didn’t…didn’t know,” he grunts out, blinking quickly.

“I know you didn’t,” you utter. “That was the point, Simon.”

“Johnny told me ‘bout it, didn’t believe him.” His brown eyes swirl, breaking. “Thought you’d mention it if you were.”

“You left,” you breathe. “Why would I reach out to someone that did that to me.”

“M’sorry, I-I don’t…” Simon clears his throat, looking away. His eyes are glossy, fingers moving out of his pockets so his twitching hands can splay out. “Could have explained, but I didn’t know how, Love. I’m not…this isn’t…”

Words fail him just like his ability to explain his emotions. Part of him was angry—angry that you’d gone all this time without reaching out when he could have helped.

A daughter.

But he was afraid, as well. Terrified. You were in the right and he knew it. Simon didn’t know the first thing about being a father…but then again, you didn’t know how to be a mother, either.

This was new territory.

“Marry me,” Simon pushes out with a quick force of breath.

“Wh—,” you choke on air. “What?”

“Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Gloved hands move at his sides, eyes honest but still shiny. “Wasn’t thinking—my fault and I can’t go on if I don’t know you’re safe.” He licks at the corner of his mouth. “...Both of you. Thought leaving would make the best sense, but I was…fucking hell. M’sorry.”

“Simon, there are many more ways other than marriage.” Your anger wasn’t something that could be washed away that easily, even if your heart fluttered at the idea and his apology.

You had more self-respect than that.

“Let me fix this,” he whispers, leaning closer.

Your hand rests over your stomach, staying there as the minutes draw. Simon waits, nervous and his fingers tap on his thigh. You know he’s afraid. You know he’s nervous about what he could bring home from work, even if those are only his paranoia talking in his ear like a demon.

You frown.

You huff.

And you open the door wider.

“The sheets need changing in my room. Get on it.”

The man says nothing before he enters the house and slips off his boots; disappearing into the linen closet.

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flamingpudding · 5 months

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Substitute City Ghost

Clockwork had a plan. Their young king needed to learn how to take care of people without the kind of hero like fighting he did in Amity Park. There was a lot to learn for the young halfa and his king classes could only cover so much. Thus he had found a plan that would give his king the perfect learning expirence while also helping out his recently new friend. Well not that new since his friend was quite an old ghost of their own. But he had only recently made direct contact with her.

Lady Gotham was an old and powerful ghost. Born from the beliefs of her city and strengthened by the once living and protecting it. But she was stretching herself thin. Managing her city, helping the dead find their way, looking out for the shades, and protecting the weaker entities, was already a lot of responsibilities for a city ghost. But Lady Gotham has added more to her plate, supporting those that protect her city. Mortals that she called her knights. Aiding them by controlling the shadows, guiding those that need help toward them, or the other way around, guiding her knights to those that needed help. She was strong, but even a ghost like her could grow exhausted. His friend needed rest and recharge. Surely Lady Gotham wouldn't say no if he invited her to a vacation to the Realms, and in that same invitation, he would direct his king to his new hands on training.

The bats and birds knew something was different about Gotham lately. It was strange and slightly unsettling. The change felt like it had just happened overnight. They were suspicious, wondering if they were sensing one of their rogues planning something big. Jason and Duke appeared to sense it the most.

At first, it didn't appear to be too big of a problem, but then strange things started to happen. Their rogues started tripping over, seemingly nothing. And if that wasn't enough it appeared like their rogues were a whole lot more inattentive to their surroundings. Now the Bats and birds were good at sneaking, but they had human limits. Yet there were times they snuck up on them like they weren't even seen.

Dick swore that one of the goons had stared at him and didn't see him, even though he had tried to pull the tap their shoulder and greet them before punching them act. The guy had turned around and stared at him before looking around like no one was even there until he punched the guy anyway.

And that wasn't even the weirdest part. Bullets, throwing knives or anything aimed and thrown at them never hit their marks. Not for the lag of them dodging but for the things they were sure they shouldn't have been able to react in time for. Tim espacially had pointed out that a bullet should have hit him once but it never even graced him. Yet when he checked the place after the arrest. There had been a clear bullet hole in the wall where he had been.

They weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. They had even tried to get a member of the Justice League Dark to look into it. But strangely enough Constantine had refused to even set foot into Gotham for once, and even insisted that the other do not either.

To say that Batman was not amused would have been a very big understatement. The man was brooding. And of course Dick had to jinx them too. The eldest bat kid had to mention that it at least wasn't getting worse.

And don't you know it. It got worse. Like weirdly alarming strangely worse.

Because, how else would you define it when you're in the middle of a briefing with your patrol partner for the night when suddenly a Lazarus Pit look alike portal opens below your feed swallowed you up and the freaking drops you into the middle of a crime scene or mugging.

It was only thanks to their training that they were able to react quickly enough after a bound of disorientation. But fuck did that gave them all a good damn heart attacks when that happened the first time to Damian of all people.

Something was definitely wrong with their city. Thankfully they had some sort of hint, because the first time the Pit portal happened to Duke, he claimed that he saw a white haired figure right before it had swallowed him hole and spit him out at a bank robbery.

Danny was honestly believing he was doing a good job as substitute city spirit while Lady Gotham was enjoying her vacation. Sure , he still had trouble with some things, but he was sure he was getting the hang of the whole supporting the cities vigilantes gig Lady Gotham had going on. The whole managing the shades and the dead spirits was still up in the air, though. But at least he had figured out a way easier way to guide the vigilantes towards the once that needed help.

Now he just needed to figure out what was wrong with that one guy in the red helmet and he was sure that both Clockwork and Lady Gotham would be proud of him and how he had managed her city during her vacation.

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redflagshipwriter · 3 months

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Mamabat- enter Jason 1/2

MASTERPOST

The air was different with Cass, now. Danny felt a little anxious as he followed her to the study after breakfast. Something about her was serious-determined-protective.

She always felt protective towards him. That was why he'd followed her in the first place. Some ghosts lied, but they couldn't do it with their aura. He knew what she really felt for him.

“Sit?” She asked him. She gestured at the big squashy chair. Danny did without complaint. Cass perched behind him and started dragging her fingers through his hair, relaxing him.

Man. She was good at this. Top tier mothering, right here. Danny went limp.

“I'm worried,” Cass broke the silence. She didn't sound worried. She never really did. Her voice was quiet and serious, but still kind. Her thumbs dug into his scalp. He pushed his head back against it. Bliss. “Barbara made you sad. Because you miss your sister?”

Danny tensed.

‘I should have figured that Batman would track me down.’

Maybe he had known, if he was honest with himself. It didn't hit him like a shock.

“Tim thinks your name is Fenton,” she added, brutally sensible as always. And yup, that was it. No point in denying it. “Declared dead. In danger?”

He sucked in air through his teeth. He wasn't going to lie to her.

“Worried,” she repeated.

He thought about it. He really did. Danny bit his lip.

She was liminal. That probably meant she'd come really close to death, in at least one sense of the word. Would that mean she was desensitized to it, or extra paranoid?

…It was hard to imagine Cass over or under reacting to a possible danger. She was just so steady. But would she see him as a possible danger if she knew what he was, what he really was?

He could feel it out before he took a plunge with the whole truth.

Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was invasive. She didn't seem to realize that she was liminal. That meant she definitely didn't realize how much she was communicating to him under her words and gestures.

But Danny deliberately tuned into her quiet aural communication and tested the waters. “Tim is right, I'm Danny Fenton,” he said. He knew he was too tense. She would definitely feel it. But what could he do about that? He was nervous. “I… Maybe I did die.”

Her heart dropped to her stomach. He could feel the crush of grief on her heart.

But it didn’t wash away the thudding repetition of love-protect-my darling. There was no suspicion, no guilt, no fear. It was just pain for his sake, with no calculation about how to solve a sudden problem.

God. He wanted so badly for that to have been how his parents reacted. His eyes started to sting.

Danny sniffled. He thought it was safe to tell her. “I died,” he corrected, and he knew he was right when Cass made a little wounded sound and leaned her body into him, aiming to comfort. “Not then, but a couple years ago. I’m different now, and it’s uh… It’s dangerous to be this way.”

“Affects?” Cass asked quietly. She started to pet his hair again. “Mood? Health?”

“...Huh,” he said, because that was a sensible question he hadn’t expected. If he really thought about his mood and emotions before and after the accident: “Yeah, uh, there’s sometimes a mood thing. I might be a little more aggressive than I was before? And I can get kind of intense sometimes.”

He had thought that was basically just a reaction to having a whole bunch of new threats in his life. But would pre-electrocution Danny have been able to actually stand and fight Skulker? He had genuinely been afraid of the jocks. Maybe… Maybe he was different. Sure, Sam and Jazz were up for shooting ghosts with Fenton tech. Would he have been if he was just human?

…He didn’t really think so.

Oof. Well, that wasn’t exactly great for his sense of self.

Cass shook him lightly. “Health?” she repeated.

Danny forced down that revelation to deal with later. He didn’t like acknowledging that he was kind of a chicken by nature, but historically, there wasn’t much evidence of bravery pre-mortem. “Uh, my heart rate is really slow, body temp is low, so I can’t really afford to go to a doctor for a checkup,” he said. “Uh, sometimes I’ve got none at all and my hair turns white.” He paused there. That was- that was enough, yeah? He was going to be honest with her because she deserved honesty from him. But that didn’t mean he had to explain the whole great beyond and his inhuman status.

“Sounds like Jason,” Cass said, after a long silence.

Danny short-circuited. “Wait, what?” He craned to look at her. “Who?”

Cass darted forward to kiss his forehead. “Little brother,” she said cheerfully. “Want to meet him?”

Uh, yeah. Danny nodded vigorously, wondering what the hell she was on about. “Do you mean he died?”

“Died,” Cass agreed, getting out her phone and tapping away at it rapidly.

“Not like, heart stopped for a minute on the operating table and he was revived, or what?” Danny pressed.

“Dead in the ground, came back later,” Cass said. “Dead for months. Now, very crabby.”

Danny balked. “What?”

“White hair too,” she said. Then her face did something funny. “I think he dyed it recently,” she said.

Danny huffed a laugh. “If it’s the same thing as mine, you can’t dye it.” He saw her look over his head for white streaks. He didn’t correct her line of thought.

He hadn’t thought that anything could top the anticipation of meeting Batman. But Danny had to admit the rest of the day was a wash. Apparently Jason couldn’t make it until the evening, about an hour before patrol.

Danny nearly paced a line into the carpet. He had enough energy to do that now, even without ecto. He was getting soooo much food here. A guy couldn’t even stress out for an hour without someone coming by to make sure he had fruit and yogurt or a hot drink.

He didn’t need someone to come and tell him that the much anticipated Jason had shown up. Danny knew it when he went to take a sip of cruelty-free chocolate milk (hand delivered by the most frightening child in the world) and choked on vapor.

Damian gave him a glare and snatched the drink away. “Are you incapable of drinking beverages?” he demanded. His face looked so goddamn cross but he was just worried.

Danny managed a smile. “No, went down the wrong pipe, sorry.”

Damian didn’t seem to even see the fog, so- so that meant that either he was really unobservant or he wasn’t liminal enough to see it the way people did in Amity. That was a small blessing. Danny appreciated it and he took back his drink to have something to hold onto.

That was a whole ass ghost. That was a whole ghost coming onto the property, one that felt big and mad and old. Danny smacked his lips, disconcerted.

He, uh, didn’t know what to expect from this.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #cassandra cain #red mama bat

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bet-on-me-13 · 28 days

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Steph's Year of Recovery

So! Danny noticed that a new face had made it's way into town. Two new faces actually, an older lady known as Dr Leslie, and a girl about his age called Steph.

He first met them when he was at the hospital for one of his parents. They had stood too close to an explosion again, and he met them while he was in the waiting Area.

Dr Leslie was a strict but obviously caring older woman, who seemed to be the one taking care of Steph as a kind of maternal figure, or maybe more like an Aunt. She greeted him simply and then walked away to talk with the Secretary, leaving him to talk to Steph.

Steph was a blond girl in a Wheelchair, and he could see bandages piking out of her clothes as he talked to her. She explained that she had been in an Accident a few weeks ago that left her wheelchair bound for a while, and that she had come to Amity for their surprisingly good Medical Centers.

He and Steph got along really well, and by the end of it he asked her for her Number so they could continue talking later. They stayed in touch, and when she was finally permitted to leave the Hospital, he introduced her to his friends. They all got along like a House on Fire, both figuratively and in one memorable case very literally (Vlad had pissed them off okay!)

Eventually Steph recovered enough that she moved from a Wheelchair to Crutches, and their shenanigans got even more chaotic (Vlad hadn't even pissed them off, this time was just for fun)

The only thing Danny could complain about was the fact that Steph was hiding something from them.

She said that she had been in an Accident a while ago, which was why they had come to Amity in the first place. But Danny knew it was more than that.

He could sense lingering traces of Death coming from her after all.

...

Steph honestly loved her current life.

Sure she had lost everything, her home, her health, her friends, her life, but she had gained new things too! Like Danny and the Gang! They were honestly some of the best friends she had ever had, and for some reason they just clicked with her instantly.

Danny was interesting and funny, Sam was vegan and a badass, Tucker was smart and witty, they all fit with her personality perfectly! It almost felt like she bad been friends with them for years. (She ignored the way her heart skipped a beat when she saw them)

But she still couldn't shake the sense that they were hiding something from her.

She knew it had something to do with the Ghost Problem in the town. And wasn't that a kicker, there was a whole Supernatural Ghost Outbreak in this Town and nobody knew about it. Dr Leslie had said that Amity was off the map enough to hide from Bruce, but she hadn't mentioned it was hidden from the Justice League itself!

Danny, Sam, and Tucker definitely knew more about it than they let on however. Whenever a Ghost Attack would happen, at least one of them would rush off with some practiced excuse and return after the Ghost Attack was over all dirty. She could guess what was going on, and she really didn't like it.

(This had killed her, she had died doing what they were doing, she didn't want to lose them)

Eventually she had to confront them, coincidentally on the same day they decided to confront her.

"Are you Vigilantes?" / "Did you die?"

"..."

"What?" / "What?"

#Dpxdc #Dp x dc #Dcxdp #Dc x dp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #Stephanie Brown #Stephanie Browns Death #Steph actually did die to Black Mask #Dr Leslie didn't manage to save her but did manage to bring her back #How she did it is up to you #But because if that Steph needs Physical Therapy and Treatments only found in Amity #Amity is also secluded enough that Batman won't find them there #Steph knows she died but is willfully ignoring it to the point of almost repressing it #Especially because she doesn't know how she came back to life #She doesn't like that her brand new friends are also Vigilantes because being a Vigilante is what got her killed #She doesn't want them to die like she die #She doesn't want to lose her new friends #Trauma #Steph is Traumatized #Also all of them are 17 in this #Stephs age when she died is very vague but 17 is the most reliable middle ground #So the Trio has been Vigilantes for 3 years now #They know what they are doing and have a system so they can share the workload #Sam and Tucker still have their powers #So they can help Danny with the workload #Idk if Steph would develop Powers from the Treatment or her Resurrection but I kind of like the idea #Also yes this is Poly Eternal Trio + Steph cause she deserves happiness #I NEED more Steph Ships cause she deserves more attention

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the-offside-rule · 7 months

Text

Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Explain

Requested: yes

Prompt: 18) "My mum thinks we're dating."

Warnings: Max being dumb asf

Y/n and Victoria had been friends for as long as they could remember. They would visit eachothers houses, carpool to school, go shopping on the weekends; you name it, they did it and they did it together. Now both girls had a set of rules for eachother and Victoria's number one rule was not a surprise at all; her brother was off limits. Y/n didn't have a problem with it because well, Max was older and they rarely talked. Even as children she didn't like him that way, mainly because as a child she thought he looked like a strange lizard of some sort. When Max became a Formula One driver, Y/n found herself with Victoria less and less due to her still having to stay in school, whilst Victoria travelled the world with her brother for a good part of the academic year. But it didn't tarnish their friendship in any way.

In fact, once Y/n graduated from high-school, Victoria managed to get her to a few races that the whole Verstappen family attended. She grew closer with the family as a whole and even became one of the regulars in the paddock after a while. However, Y/n went on to study in Italy and her paddock appearances were significantly lowered to once or twice a year.

The weekend of Monza 2023 was a special one to say the least. Y/n smiled as she walked into the paddock with Victoria, like she did every other time. The cameras took photos, like they did every other year and they walked straight to the hospitality. "I missed this place." Y/n sighed as she looked around the hospitality, holding her godson Luka's hand as he waddled about the place. "I know. They've changed a few things since you've been here last." Victoria smiled as she wheeled the stroller through the paddock. "And where is the golden boy himself?" Y/n asked, obviously referring to Victoria's now two-time world champion brother. "He's with Mama. They're having their weekly lunch like they usually do." Y/n nodded. "I can't wait to chill in the hospitality. I'd argue it'd my favourite place."

Just as she said she would, Y/n sat in the hospitality of Red Bull. She got her usual place; a table by the window that overlooked the whole paddock, and close enough to Ferrari so she could get a glimpse of Charles Leclerc walking by. All heads snapped around as the heard large footsteps pounding up the stairs and there appeared a delirious looking Max Verstappen. They locked eyes and Max began walking over to her quite quickly. Did he really miss her that much?

"Hi, Max. How are you-" Max sits down rapidly, making Y/n freeze and look at the dutchman as if he had two heads. "I have a problem. Well, no. We- we have a problem." Max said, stumbling on his words. "You look like you've just seen a ghost." Y/n chuckled as she continued to scroll through her phone. "I- I think I really messed up." Max muttered. Y/n scoffed in reply. "Can't be worse than the time you-" She paused and looked at the familiar face of Max's I fucked up face. "What did you do?" She asked, not putting the phone down. "I- You're going to hate me." Max said. "What have you done?" She asked again. "My mum thinks we're dating." Max blurted out, leaving both of them in stunned silence. "She what?!" She put her phone down and stood up. "I know! It was really dumb!" Max repeated over and over again. "Max! Why did you tell her that!"

"It was an accident!" Max replied defensively. "What exactly did you say?!" Y/n asked. "Well she said we would make a cute couple and I kind of joked that well, what if we were but nobody knew. And then she started smiling like that and asking questions so I just went with it so now-" He paused. "Now she thinks we're together." Max mumbled the last bit. "Max, you need to tell her we aren't!" Y/n said. "But why? She seems so happy-"

"Max! Victoria might actually murder me! I have known her since we were seven!" Y/n whisper shouted. "It'll be fine! She won't know, I am sure of it-"

"Y/n?" Y/n froze as she heard her loving friend Victoria call out her name. Max and Y/n turned to see Victoria walking towards them, almost in the same fashion that Max walked over just a matter of minutes ago. "Victoria, I can explain!"

"Oh I'm so happy for you both! It makes so much sense now! Why you were looking for him this morning, I mean." Vuctoria squealed, engulfing Y/n in a hug. Max stood up chuckling along. "You- you're not mad?" Y/n asked, audibly confused. "Mad? Of course not! Me and Mama have said it many times; that the two of you should be dating. It's about time, to be honest." Y/n smiled and looked between the two Verstappens. "And you! Oh thank goodness you found a nice girlfriend after that last one, she was horrible." Max nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Even Dad is happy about you two!" Max and Y/n didn't know what to say. "And you all want us to...date?"

"Yes! For the longest time. It was so obvious you liked eachother too. So, so obvious." Max looked down at Y/n. The pair's faces turned as red as the Ferrari garage next door. "Well, I'll let you two lovebirds have some alone time. Ill see you both later?" Victoria asked, getting ready to leave. "Yes. Definitely."

"That didn't go how I thought it would." Y/n muttered. "Are we missing something? Do we like eachother but we're just too stupid to tell?" Max asked. "I- I don't know." She whispered. "But, I think we should tell them we aren't together before this gets out of hand." Y/n went to walk, but felt her hand being grabbed. She looked back to see Max. "Or we just play along until it dies down." Max suggested. "That is possibly the most stupid thing you've ever said." Y/n retorted. "Bot really. We both get benefits out of dating. You get recognition for being my girlfriend which comes with brand deals, magazine shoots-"

"I would never date you just for the benefits. I date someone because I love them."

"So so you love me?" Y/n didn't really know how to respond to that. Her mouth opened and closed, searching for the words but she couldn't couldn't a singular sentence. Max's grin widened. "Don't even! I'll see you around." Y/n said storming off, her face red from embarrassment. "Okay. Bye my love!" Max teased. "Shut up!" Did she like him? Did she love him? No! Of course...well....maybe.

#f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen

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