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#get schooled imagines
inkskinned · 8 months
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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kizzer55555 · 2 months
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DP x DC: The Most Dangerous Card Game
Ok so Danny has essentially claimed earth as his. And he is fully aware that there are constant threats to the planet. Now he can’t stop a threat that originates on earth (that’s something he’ll leave to the Justice league) but he can do something about outside threats. Doing some research on ancient spells, rituals, and artifacts, he cast a world wide barrier on the planet to protect it from hostile threats so they cannot enter. This will prevent another Pariah Dark incident. However, barriers like this come at a price. You see, there are two ways to make a barrier. Either make one powered up by your own energy and power (which would be constantly draining) or set up a barrier with rules. The way magic works is that nothing can be absolutely indestructible. It must have a weakness. The most powerful barriers weren’t the ones reinforced with layer after layer of protective charms and buffed up with power. Those could eventually be destroyed either by being overpowered, wearing them down, or by cutting off the original power source. No, the most powerful barriers were the ones with a deliberate weakness. A barrier indestructible except for one spot. A cage that can only be opened from the outside. Or that can only be passed with a key or by solving a riddle. So Danny chooses this type of barrier and does the necessary ritual and pours in enough power to make it. And he adds his condition for anyone to enter. 
Now the Justice league? Find out about the barrier when Trigon attempts to attack, they were preparing after he threatened what he would do once he got to earth. How he would destroy them. The Justice league tried to take the fight to him first but were utterly destroyed, so they retreated home to tend to their injuries, and fortify earth for one. Last. Stand. Only when Trigon makes his big entrance…he’s stopped.
The Justice league watch in awe as this thin see-through barrier with beautiful green swirls and speckled white lights like stars apears blocking Trigon and his army’s advance. The barrier looks so thin and fragile yet no matter how hard the warlord hits, none of his attacks can get through and neither can he damage said barrier. That’s when Constantine and Zatanna recognizes what this barrier is. Something only a powerful entity could create. For a moment, the league is filled with hope that Trigon can’t get through yet Constantine also explains that it’s not impenetrable. And clearly Trigon knows this too for he calls out a challenge. 
And that’s when, in a flash of light, a tiny glowing teenager appears. He looked absolutly minuscule compared to Trigon and yet practically glowed with power (this isn’t a King Danny AU though).
And that is when the conditions for passing the barrier are revealed. And the Justice realize that the only thing stopping Trigon and his army from decimating earth. The only way he can get through….is by beating this glowing teenager in a card game. 
Not just any card game though. The most convoluted game Sam, Danny, and Tucker invented themselves. It’s like the infinite realms version of magic the gathering, combined with Pokémon, and chess. And Danny is the master. So sit down Trigon and let’s play.
(The most intense card game of the Justice league’s life).
After Danny wins, this happens a few more times with outer word beings and possibly even demons attempting to invade earth, yet none have been able to beat the mysterious teenager in a card game. Constantine might even take a crack at it and try to figure out how to play. He’s really bad though. Every time this happens, the Justice league worry that this might be the time the teenager looses. Yet every time, he wins (even if only barely). 
Meanwhile, Danny, Sam, and Tucker have gotten addicted to the game and play it almost daily. Some teachers might seem them playing the game are are like ‘awww how cute’ not realizing this game is literally saving the world. Jazz is just happy they aren’t spending as much time on their screens playing Doomed.
#DPxDC#dcxdp#Danny makes a card game to save the world.#Technically he worded the ritual so that they had to ‘beat’ him as those are the most powerful barriers and most reliable.#keys can just get lost or stolen (like the one to Pariah’s Coffin)#A riddle would be useless once someone figured out the answer. Like how no one takes the sphynx seriously anymore.#(Sorry Tuck. But it’s true).#And there is NO WAY Danny is just leaving a hole open for anyone to pass through. No thank you!#So…beating him. But it’s not like Danny wanted to fight so…he edited the ritual a TINY bit. Card games are good. Much less painful too.#Danny Tucker and Sam made the most complicated card game they could imagine.#It’s based on their strategies for fighting ghosts. Capturing them in thermoses. And MUCH based on a on field battle strategy.#It often requires spontaneous thinking on the spot. So Danny? In his ELEMNT. It doubles as practice for his actual ghost battles too.#They had SO much fun making this.#Sam added an entire series of plant cards that act as traps and healing ointments and duds that just take up the field.#Tucker added legitimate hyroglyphics combined with Latin as well as English and ghost speak.#Yes. You actually have to speak that language to play. With proper pronunciation. (Amity Parker’s think the three are talking gibberish.)#I headcanon Sam and Tucker are fluent in Ghost.#Constantine WILL figure this game out SO HELP HIM!#Some of the cards also have combinations related to constellations either in name or placement on the board.#By the way the board is based on a Hexagonal summoning circle with Rhunes along the edges#And the placement of the cards on the board and on what rhune MATTERS.#Also the cards move disintegrate and have certain abilities. Think of Harry Potter Wizard Chess.#But they are normal when Danny plays at school. This is just for ✨effect✨ Against invaders.#Danny faces multiple opponents. He also halts alien invasions.#While Danny COULD stop crime on earth he’s not sure how to fight a normal human and hold back so he sticks to ghosts.#The Justice league are going crazy trying to figure out who this entity is and after deep research are convinced this is some sort of#Ancient being who has protected earth for millenia. They have paintings on ruins and everything.#Danny is not aware they think this.#Raven starts praying to Danny as if he is a god and wrangles the other Teen Titans into doing so as well. Danny is still unaware of this.#Danny is not a King or an ancient. Just a very VERY strong ghost.
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forestmossling · 1 month
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reporter @ an accomplished rockstar!eddie’s boyfriend, steve harrington, a middle-school teacher in a dorky sweater vest: how does it feel dating somebody who’s waaay out of your league?
eddie, pushing himself in front of the camera: amazing, i never thought i’d be this happy
inspired by @singswan-springswan’s meme
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noxious-fennec · 11 months
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Snapshots of simpler times..
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minty364 · 5 months
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DPXDC Prompt #127
Clockwork knew it was getting dangerous for Danny in his dimension. His parents were getting dangerously close to finding out his secret and unfortunately this timeline they were leaning towards not accepting him. He decided to step in before things got out of hand and sends Danny to another dimension. He sends Danny to live with his granddaughter, Diana, and gives her a cryptic message.
Diana is unsure about the teen that was dropped off seemingly randomly by her grandfather. It takes her quite a while to decipher as she had to return home to decipher the last part of it. When she’s done she’s slightly horrified to find the kid that’s been staying with her for months is a baby ancient. Specifically the ancient of space. She vows to protect him at all costs.
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tlou-reid · 6 months
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!smut, mdni!
thinking about spencer reid who has had a crush on the pretty BAU agent at the desk across from him ever since she started. she has been so swamped with work and paperwork and life recently and spencer notices the small changes in her behaviors because he notices every little thing about her. he sees the tighter grip she holds on her pens, making the ink bleed through the paper just slightly. he notices the way she starts to slam her coffee cup on the desk as opposed to gently sitting it down. he notices the heavy uptick of the amount of cups she’s having.
and it’s worse when they’re given a case. naturally, since they get along so well and since they’re probably the two smartest people in the world, hotch pairs spencer and his crush up throughout their time in phoenix, arizona. spencer sees the way she’s always cracking her knuckles and rubbing at the small of her back. he hear the tone in which she talks to the officers.
so, when they’ve finally caught their unsub just 6 days later, spencer makes sure to pick up her case files before she can even make it from her hotel room. he tucks them neatly under him as he sits down on the jet, carefully hiding them from her. he holds them hostage, knowing if she doesn’t see them, she won’t worry about them. out of sight, out of mind, as they say. she falls asleep quickly in the seat across from spencer. he can’t help but ogle at her beautiful sleeping form, knowing she really needs the rest.
and, once they returned to the musty bullpen that belongs to the BAU, spencer stays with her. he watches as she starts the paperwork he’d sneakily put on her desk, not letting her catch on to the fact that he’d taken it. he tries his best to focus on his own work, but the way she keeps groaning as she rolls her head back has him completely distracted. he’s barely three pages in when hotch emerges from his office, bidding both of them a goodbye and complimenting their work on the case
that just leaves spencer and the pretty agent across from him in the space.
time moves slower now, spencer thinks, which makes it even more agonizing to listen to her try to work out her over-exhausted muscles by herself. he can’t help himself as he breaks the comfortable silence that had been established.
“hey, y/n,” he inquires, knowing she probably doesn’t want to be disturbed right now. his suspicions prove to be true when she doesn’t look up, letting out a less than enthusiastic “hm?”.
“do you know the benefits of getting a massage?” this piques her interest, wondering where spencer was going to take this. sure, the recent stress in her life had her muscles aching at every hour of the day, but she didn’t think anyone had picked up on it. “i know the basics, spence.” she giggles, finally looking over at him.
he can’t dwell on the fact that this is the first time she’s smiled in about two weeks because his brain starts moving too fast for his mouth to keep up, “yeah, most people know they helps with muscle aches but they actually have a lot of benefits. massages help improve circulation and joint mobility. there’s also research that connects them to cosmetic effects, like improved and more even skin tones.”
he doesn’t expect her to still be paying attention to him, but he’s pleasantly surprised at the small smile spreading across her face. “hm, that sounds amazing. if only i wasn’t trapped here doing paperwork at almost three in the morning.” she answers sarcastically, turning back to her work. “i could give you a massage.” spencer stumbles out.
her cheeks start to heat up as she makes eye contact with him, wondering where he would take this. “i mean,” he backtracks, “i’ve read books on how to do shoulder and back massages. my eidetic memory means i could probably do an almost perfect one, if you’re interested. i’ve noticed the way you’ve been struggling with muscle aches.”
her face feels like it’s on fire with the way he’s making her blush. “um, sure, spencer, if you don’t mind.” she stutters and stumbles as she tries to accept his offer. he excitedly pushes himself of his hair, pulling up a closer one behind her.
his large hands start to knead at the knots at the base of her neck. he can feel the tension she’s built up over the past couple of weeks and tries to recall the techniques he’d read about so long ago.
this quickly becomes a challenging feat, as he moves his hands along the expanse of her back. she lets out light moans when he massages a particularly tight part of her muscle. the moans and grunts she’s making are going right to spencer’s cock. he’s so glad he’s behind her, because the tent in his pants continues to grow as he reaches the base of her back, where most of her pain had been.
her light moans have now increased in volume, and spencer is sure he should stop. he was not expecting to have this reaction from her, or react this way to her. his mind is cloudy and beginning to fill with filthy images that match the sounds she’s making now.
and god, he should stop. he knows he should pull his hands away from her, especially as he feels his stomach tighten and his dick throb in his pants. but he can’t. he needs to reach his release so bad, so he presses his fingers harder into her back, listening to the joyful sounds she’s letting out.
he doesn’t pull his hands away until he finally cums in his pants, too embarrassed to keep going. “thank you, spence. i feel a lot better. a lot less tense now.” she thanks him as he turns away from her, pushing in the chair he’d pulled over. he makes a few exclamations, saying it was no problem at all, before dashing off to the bathroom to try and get himself cleaned up.
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rochenn · 1 month
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The Jedi Order mainly being an institution about teaching makes me sad that we never see more "Jedi classes" outside of the popular ones like martial arts, healthcare and Force wackery.
Alongside basic language and science education etc there have to be at least some trade and college courses on offer, right? The Jedi need a bunch of their own people with law degrees. Proper pedagogy studies for future crèchemasters. Cooks. Managers. All types of engineers. Electricians. Accountants. Researchers. How many Jedi hold a doctorate or professorate? Because I think a large number of them do. Their databanks are filled with millennia of dissertations. You can still find Yoda's articles from 500 years ago and cite them in your history research paper.
The Order just having its own micro-economy going on and every member getting their own regular job education next to all the lightsaber swinging adventures... pls
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shower-phantom-ideas · 7 months
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Danny is just a kid ya know? Like he is just a little guy. A baby really. 14? Tiny child! Look at him, he needs to be protected. Someone has to help this poor little dude. I mean he forgets to use his own powers to avoid attacks all the time.
Anyway cut to Batfam not knowing all of Dannys power set cause the lil dingus keeps forgetting he can do that stuff in the heat of battle.
Danny uses his invisibility all the time… to avoid being followed. But in a fight? Oopsies hes too busy thinking of funny one liners to realise he could do that.
Intangibility? Give the guy a break. I mean who calls themselves condiment king. Even he was stunned.
He so rarely actually uses his biggest advantage powers that the League doubt he actually has them. He, like any naive child, trusts them and reported fully on his power set. Instead of just asking him to demonstrate his powers they instead start watching him and try to find evidence of his powers.
At least they know duplication was true since they watched him make a copy of himself to go to the bathroom and not miss any of his fav tv show.
#danny phantom#dp x dc#dpxdc#im 100% here for danny using his powers for stupid shit and not the important battle stuff#this post wasn’t meant to be like this so I guess heres for you guys who read my stupid tags#I was gonna have the batfam adopt danny after a reveal and just not know all the crazy stuff he can do#they think they got him figured out then at the manner he does something like seep into the floor to get his forgotten school bag#or he turns invisible cause he got caught parnking and bruce is talking to him and steph but he just dips#no wait I can do better. he gets yelled at by bruce (aka new father figure) for eating a corn chip off the floor and just vanishes from…#… from getting surprised. meanwhile bruce is like!?!?!?!!?#just imagine them going crazy because they have no idea his powerset and they thought they did#his new siblings make a game of it#they get on missions and keep asking danny to do more and more impossible stuff just to see if he will reveal a new power#hey danny go scope out the area but make sure you arent seen ok#and hes like sure thing fam and goes invisible and intangible#doesn’t think to just take out the baddies and returns to them with a full floor plan and locatikn of all the baddies and drugs#like wtf#hey danny think you can do anything about that generator? and hes like sure thing fam and then freezes it#danny bro this guy is out of control! little help? and danny just walks up to the guy and overshadows him and handcuffs himself#brother daniel I dint think we can get in but theres a small hole here in the wall#would you be able to do anything about that? and instead of just walking thru the wall danny shifts his body and goes thru the hole#as if he had no bones and became liquid#the game gets intense and breaks bruce so he gives in first (yes he was playkng too) and just asks danny to show them his powers#he will say some shit like ‘ah hey chum think you can show us all your abilities? that was we can coordinate better in the field.’#dannys just like ‘yea daddio sure thing’ then proceeded to show off his entire move set minus wail until bruce showed him a chamber…#… that could ‘with stand’ his power (spoiler he destroyed that fucking toom lmao)#ok my spaghetti rings and meatballs have been done for a while and juliet is trying to eat them out the microwave so hopefully these tags#fed yall goobers#man I should have just made a second post lmao#stood in the kitchen too long typing and they got cold
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timdrakesbussy · 3 months
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Haley: *Pointing at Sebastian* We can't manipulate, Haley: *Pointing at Alex* mansplain, Haley: *Pointing at Sam* or malewife our way out of here. Abigail: *Wielding a sword* MANSLAUGHTER IT IS THEN
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irishmammonagenda · 3 months
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"Wow...Guess he really is asleep..." You whisper, the kazoo you had been playing in an attempt to wake the Avatar of Sloth up now safely in your pocket, lest Lucifer confiscate it again.
You poke Belphie's forehead with your pointer finger, then continue poking it, because it was fun. Still Asleep Belphie seems to hate this more than you attempting to play Vivaldi's Winter on the kazoo and failing miserably, seeing as his cowlike tail swings out, wraps around your leg and pulls you to the ground.
"ARGH! What?!" You barely have time to process before you're dragged up by the tail that's latched around your ankles and quite meanly (may you add), dropped on the bed. Belphie entraps you in a hug, and thankfully this time, doesn't crush your internal organs. How sweet! <3
"Go to sleep MC...." The demon mutters half awake for a moment before drifting back off again.
You try to reach for your kazoo, for the second time, Belphie's tail whips out gently at you. "Don't even think about it." He pouts, before his expression and breathing even out once more.
You might as well get comfortable, seeing as you were now trapped for what looks to be hours.
You can't even play your kazoo.
Why do your plans always backfire? :(
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puppyeared · 26 days
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just realized i forgot to make a page for sleight on my artfight, so i decided to update his ref while im at it
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starry-bi-sky · 2 months
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my body's aching like a knock-down drag-out
and my poor heart is an open wound A Childhood Friends Au snippet that very briefly delves into Danny's life post-accident. CW: Mild Mentions of Blood, Violence, VERY mild gore ig. Danny briefly recalls getting impaled during a fight.
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What they don't tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it can hurt. That it can hurt more than when you were alive. That when you die, the emotions you die with stick with you like a leech that just won't let go. That emotions are ugly little thorns that stick their barbs into you and grow beneath your skin; or, at least, whatever’s left of it. 
Danny is familiar with anger. It kept him warm in Gotham, when his parents weren't home from work and he and Jason were crowding Crime Alley with their presence. It kept him warm in Amity, when the fresh sting of moving was still needling into his heart and he wanted nothing more than to rip and tear into the closest person next to him.
He's familiar with violence. With fights. With death. He's seen people die in Crime Alley probably every day. From overdose, from gunshots, from stab wounds; anything that can kill, rest assured he's seen it. He's familiar with getting his own knuckles rough and bloody when other kids turn and bare their teeth at him and Jason; they're all just starving dogs stuck in a fighting pit, primed and ready to rip out each other's throats. 
Black eyes, stomped hands, bloody noses. You name it; he’s had it. Gotham is paved with the blood of her children, and Danny likes to imagine that when he was born, the doctors handed his mother a file and told her; “Take it. He’s going to need it for his teeth.” 
Danny’s mom (and dad, for that matter) was too busy trying to keep him and Jazz fed, so Danny stole the file from her drawer with Jazz’s help, and did it himself.  
He’s familiar with anger, he thought he was getting better at it these days. It doesn’t come to him as easily as it did before. Of course, that was before Jason died. 
Danny is less familiar with grief. Caring kills and Gotham kills the caring, so Danny cares very little about other people. Or he tries to. But grief hurts. His grief hurts. It hurts too much. It hurts like a bug trying to crawl out of his chest; like a rat chewing a hole through his heart. Some days he wants to dig his hands into his hair and split himself down the middle. Some days he just wants to scream. 
He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. 
He wants the whole city to hear him wailing, some days. It sticks itself in the back of his throat like bile, and Danny is one wrong retch away from letting it loose. It sticks in his lungs like all the tar he’s smoked in since he was nine. It pushes and aches at his temples, in his head, like his brain is trying to swell out of his skull. His thoughts becoming so loud they threaten to commandeer his tongue.  
He has no mouth, but he must scream. 
Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it hurts more than when you were alive. Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it’s violent. That it’s bloody. Or as bloody as it can be when everyone has no blood. 
Another thing they don’t tell you about being dead, is that it’s a lot like Gotham that way.
With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies forget death itself. Blood comes easy, like water, and teeth are encouraged. Bring your own fangs to the fight. Dying is something you can just walk off. 
Danny’s been dead for three months. He can’t say he’s been walking it off easy. He’s perfected the art of turning his nails into claws since his heart was still beating, but he can’t say he’s perfected fighting other ghosts. 
Scrappy is just not enough. 
He feels like he’s back in Gotham again. Back in her death-shroud alleyways, fighting someone bigger than him. But there’s no Jason to watch his back, and Danny has to get himself out of there alone. Or he might just not get up at all. 
Black eyes, busted lips. It’s familiar to him like an old scent, Danny isn’t quite sure that he’s missed it. It’s more familiar than his fights with Dash. 
But there’s no one else who can do it but him. Not Sam, not Tucker. He can’t lose them too. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. His heart can’t take another break, he already feels like he’s going insane. 
With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies fight like death themself. He learns why when Technus puts a street sign through his stomach one day. It pins him to the asphalt like a moth pinned by its wings. 
Danny claws at the metal like how an animal caught in a trap chews off its leg, and every move is blinding pain. He thinks he was howling, but it’s hard to tell. He couldn’t recognize the sound of his voice. 
He bleeds green. It mixes in black with the pitch blackhole in his heart, which throbs and twists and cries in time with his reckless panic. The finger-choking terror of dying again strangles out the air he doesn’t need. His blood evaporates, only to reabsorb into him. It just bleeds out again, cycling like a snake eating its own tail. 
Danny breaks his nails clawing at the metal, and eventually gets it in his mind to pull it out. So he does, and the end drips ectoplasm green as he gets to his feet. In red-vision, Danny sends the sign back with snarling, vicious fervor. The pain is irrelevant in his rage.
Only after the fight does the hole the pole left start to close. Danny doesn’t shift human until it’s gone. Unlike other injuries, a scar stays behind. Ugly; mottled, it aches for a week with every twist and stretch his body makes. He hates it. 
Being dead is agony. 
Every part of him is in pain. Every step, every word he speaks, everything he does, it is prerequisite with pain. The body is temporary, but the soul is forever, and death has carved into it with its freezing green hands and left him with never-ending heartache. It has torn from him and stolen what of him it could, and in return it’s left him with sorrow. 
His pain is his grief, and he’s sobbed in the safety of his room more times than he can count. It’s still as fresh as the day he heard the news of Jason’s death. He knows, instinctively, that it will stay fresh forever. 
In his room, Danny shoves his hands over his mouth and shrieks in whatever, muffled way he can into his pillow. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needs to be louder. He needs to be heard. He refuses to be. 
Being dead hurts. 
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adoresol · 1 month
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urgh I love all your posts abt anton honestly the way you headcannon for him is amazing😩 lemme just say the other day I went into this perfume shop that so happened to carry antons perfume (le labo lavande 31) and honestly the smell is so him and so sexy in a soft yet musky way?? Honestly if any man wore this perfume near me I’d jump his bones😔😔 now all I wanna do is bury my head in antons neck to smell him and cuddle and fuck
ahh tysm, i really appreciate it <3 the next time i visit a perfume shop, i am soooo going to look for his cologne. but anton even looks like he smells good, like i just know he smells amazing and you confirming it is just 🙏
riding anton whenever you both are in a sensual mood, i just know he be moaning all up in your ear while your head hangs against his shoulder <3 and the grip he'd have on your waist, his hips meeting yours to fuck up into you even harder. loves how deep in your cunt he is, murmuring on how good you feel wrapped around him. anton also loves to stay inside of you even after the two of you cum, just sensually making out with each other with so much tongue. his hands roaming all over your body with soft touches. he simply can't get enough of you
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grimesgirll · 3 months
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you'd been begging daryl to take you hunting.
"why don't you take her?" rick implored. "she's not a bad shot."
"we'd be bowhunting, not rifle hunting." daryl distinguishes with a grunt.
"i can learn," you assure him, holding your compound bow in your hands. "technically, i've been shooting since i was seven."
"once a summer for fifteen minutes while peddling cookies," he states.
"c'mon, she learned a lot at camp." rick rebuts, grinning at you. "right, doll, didn't you learn how to build a fire and purify water?" you nod. "none of us have frozen to death or gotten diphtheria yet, so i'd say you should at least give her archery skills a chance."
"please?" you borderline beg, breath hitching as you see your morning not going how you planned. "i really wanna learn to track."
daryl doesn't say anything, just looks from you to the bow in your hand. rick interrupts whatever thoughts he has with a sigh. "daryl, why don't ya just take her? she clearly wants to go with you." he gestures to you. "how can you say no to her when she's asking so nicely? unless you think it's too hairy for her out there and we should just spend the day tucked inside here."
you whine at the idea. you want to be outside.
that spurs daryl into saying a rushed, "grab your heavy coat and your arrows."
you grin at rick who despite assisting in your victory, looks disappointed that you'll be gone for the day. while daryl is busy grabbing his crossbow, you slink over to rick, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“thanks,” you seal your gratitude with a kiss.
he wraps a firm arm around you. "you're welcome, sweetheart," your leader punctuates with a hand dug in your hair while he brings your face to his. you almost don't notice daryl until he's huffing by the doorway and you're kissing rick goodbye one last time and scrambling to grab your bow before dashing out the door after your boyfriend.
gone from alexandria, you and daryl take off on foot towards what he’d described as the best hunting grounds in the nearest fifty miles.
"be sure to quiet down," daryl tells you, abstaining from cringing as your boots crunch every leaf on the forest floor beneath them.
"sorry," you giggle. you try to quell your footsteps but it's hard when you're so captivated by the beauty of the woods.
before everything happened with the dead walking, you loved being outside. growing up in scouts and regularly camping had turned you into someone who was all too reckless outside for their knowledge of the woods. yes, you knew that predators and walkers lurked around every corner out here but you just want to crane your neck and stare at the sky through the trees, or let your eyes wander over the meandering streams.
that's why daryl is watching you like a hawk.
years of tracking has made him hip to everything going on around him. truth be told, if anyone or anything were on your trail, you were a dead giveaway. stomping about the way you are, you're bound to scare off any small game but he's trying to be patient with you. it's not like you had to keep it down at your hippie dippie kumbaya girl scout camp or on sunlit afternoon hikes. daryl, on the other hand, moved about undetected like it was second nature. had to be quiet if you wanted to actually to leave the forest with a meal.
he's watching you and the woods just to be safe. it's hard not getting distracted by you the way you're getting all caught up in the trees and the vivid greenery surrounding you.
the sight of you; pink lips parted just slightly with your head tipped all the way back to look for bird nests have his jeans getting cramped. you're just so excited to be outside.
it's not like you don't go on walks every day in alexandria with judith or join them on occasional outings beyond the walls. there's just not as much room for you to leave with how dangerous even just scavenging is turning out to be, so it's harder to get you out for a remote nature walk.
"what're we tracking for?" you ask.
daryl pushes a branch out of the way, holding it back as you pass under before catching up. "whatever you don't scare away with all that noise."
you snort. "so no deer?"
the redneck laughs. "not with the way you're tramping through here."
"what about pheasants?" you question, tiptoeing over a particularly rocky section of daryl's trail. "or do we need dogs to find them?"
"you don't need no damn dog to hunt pheasants."
"a decoy?"
"you just gotta' be patient." he clicks his tongue. "but it's not like you'd know anything about that." you let out a small whine and his breath hitches.
"just askin'."
"i know, girl."
"so what're you shooting for?"
daryl shrugs. "think' we can probably find something further up the ridge. rabbit, squirrel, something 'for you to aim at."
you nod and knock an arrow. following your boyfriend as he takes you past one of his favorite creeks outside of alexandria, leading the way as you pad along on the forest floor behind him.
your shotgun is slung on your back in its strap, understudying the compound bow you’d dug out of the armory. there were many fewer bow users in the apocalypse than there should’ve been. for every bow hunter, there were fifteen idiots blowing off the head of whatever or whoever they encountered with some barely functional, scavenged handgun. maintaining the skill and the arrows for a bow wasn't necessarily for the lazy.
you really didn't have much experience with archery or hunting for that matter. rick joked that you were a duck hunter but that had been dumb luck. while scavenging for gas along a riverside park, you'd seen some geese and fired your shotgun. rick couldn't be upset about the noise when your impulsive assault on the waterfowl was what filled your stomachs that night. and as a reward, rick filled you up just the way you liked it that night.
you'd go out firing on random flocks of geese more if it meant rick would fuck you the way he did that night. you were losing your mind - putty in his hands - from all the praise. his good girl who shot their dinner. marking every thrust with more praise.
the naughty bundle of nerves between your legs awakens at the thought of receiving the same treatment from daryl. he didn't love spanking your ass red or doling out punishments like rick, but you wanted to see his face after you caught something. after you shoot a deer with your bow. he would be so proud of you, giving you a celebratory kiss before helping you field dress your harvest.
whatever route daryl is following takes on an impressive incline, giving way to a fragmented vista of the tiny green valley. you wish you had binoculars. once your eyes stop scanning the sky for hawks, an auburn mess of hair catches your eye. even through his black windbreaker, you can see the outline of his muscles along his back. his form and thoughts of him taking you up against a tree cloud your brain until you hear your name.
"yeah," you answer, looking up at daryl who's stopped to pause below a short, dense pine. he motions for you to squat with him and you do, settling into a perched position with your loaded bow sat on your knees.
“right here is the perfect pass along the ridge to come up and over the mountain,” daryl explains, blue eyes catching a bit of sunlight. “a bunch of game will be scampering around as the day goes on. won’t see any deer right before noon though. not that they’d wanna walk up here with your loud ass.”
you snicker before sending him an apologetic look. “sorry, dare’. i’m not used to being quiet like that.”
i know, baby, he wants to say but just points to your knocked arrow. “wanna have that ready. never know when a squirrel’ll come skippin’ by.”
“yes, sir,” you croon, smirking at the way his eyes darken and he playfully ruffles your hair.
settling into a cozy state of surveillance, your eyes start to droop. rick had kept you up after daryl went to bed. this was before you woke up with the urge to accompany daryl on his hunt, so you probably only got four or five hours of sleep. typical rick keeping you up with sweet temptations like his hands on your breasts, his warm mouth on your torso, licking down to your clit and reigniting that fire that’s consumed your core earlier in the night.
you start to feel it stirring when your mind wanders to the man sitting beside you. you smile sweetly at him when he catches your gaze and ask an innocent question about pheasant hunting again that breaks the silence.
then you’re relaying the story about the time your cousin fell out of his tree stand after one too many beers.
daryl guffaws. “that’s some’ shit merle would do.”
"yeah, it was pretty stupid of him."
the quiet returns. you sigh. the silence meant to lull the local game into a false sense of security is boring you. you came out here for some one on one time with daryl and to learn to track, not to sit in silence in the cold for god knows how long.
you close the distance between you and daryl. tucking yourself into his side, you earn a look from him. "i'm cold," you commiserate.
the archer has to look away from your doe eyes to keep his zipper from popping. he mentally debates pulling you closer until he gives in and tugs you to his chest, ruining your position holding your bow.
both of you know you’re eventually going to do what you do best in the cold; get distracted by warming each other up. it’s evident from how you sink back further against daryl. nonchalant even when you feel his hardness against your ass.
“feeling warmer,” you update him.
“good,” he murmurs when you press your head back to his chest. you feel warmer; despite your layers, daryl has gotten your core going enough for you to feel it from head to toe.
you imagine a wave of pleasure, not just flickering body heat as you turn around and face his groin on your knees.
“not out here,” he mutters with a gasp of your name. his belt falls and your hands start on his zipper, progressing the metal zip all the way down until a sturdy hand grabs yours. “don’t you wanna catch something?” he reminds you of the reason you even trekked up here.
you shake your head yes.
“then what’s this all about?”
you roll your eyes. “dare’, I’m bored!”
“i told you that half’a hunting is waitin’!” daryl chides, pushing your hands down.
tears well in your eyes. the older man exhales; he’s fucked.
“dare’-,”
“don’t you start.” he tells you, grasping your chin in his hand and leaning down to kiss you. you tilt upwards eagerly into the kiss from the pine needle littered ground. “you’re gonna scare anything left up here.”
daryl disconnects from you when your bow is lowered to the ground. his thumb slips into your mouth and without hesitation, you treat his thumb to the same treatment he’d gotten last night.
it’s not long before he’s finally saying, “fuck it!” declaring out loud what you’ve been yearning for the entire morning.
with another smirk, you strip him of his pants until he’s popping out of his boxers. your mouth is on him an instant - it’s cold after all. first thing, you envelope him in your mouth, pulsing downstairs again when his hands find warmth in your hair. you don’t need him to guide your head down to the base of your cock for you to take him into your throat.
the black shotgun you’d proudly toted - even after it’d been confiscated at terminus - is deposited hap-hazardously on the ground while your bow is on the other side of your legs. daryl’s ditched his crossbow at this point, opting to explore the far reaches of your throat with his cock while the bow stands against the other side of the tree.
your boyfriend’s breath hitches again. you overfill as much of his cock as you can into your mouth until you slide yourself up and off, taking a break to catch your breath.
fucked out and face flush in spite of the cold, daryl is pleasantly surprised when you dive down to pay his balls some serious attention. you loll each one into your mouth, leisurely progressing up his length with gentle licks until you’re gingerly kissing the head, locking eyes with him.
disregarding the chill beneath your knees, you dip your mouth down on him again, licking a new trail up his rock hard cock. thinking about how painful it must be in this cold, you give into him when he thrusts into your mouth.
hands in your hair, daryl is in heaven. getting head under the trees? sign him the fuck up. you two have fooled around outside before of course but that wasn't usually by choice. without having to worry about a horde of walkers hot on your trail or horrors like cannibals hunting you, he could lean back and just enjoy the sight of you between his legs, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock.
for a moment, he worries that the sounds you make as you swallow his length will attract walkers but he's too hard to care. you bob up and down, trying to take more of him each time. his hands guide you until he's bucking in your mouth and feel him spill down your throat.
daryl's gonna have to take you hunting more often.
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bjurnberg · 8 months
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@stealingyourbones I have the perfect dog for you. Look at this good boy.
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cerubean · 2 months
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random snapshots from the mancuso save
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