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#prompt edits
ijustdontlikepeople · 2 years
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Prompt: the intimacy of just looking at someone and dissolving into laughter together + Cashton as requested by @lukemichaelcalumashton
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jortsbian · 4 months
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the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again
#yeehaw#1k#5k#10k#posts that got cursed. blasted. im making these tag updates after... 19 hours?#also i have been told it should say speech loss bc nonverbal specifically refers to the permanent state. did not know that!#unfortunately i fear it is so far past containment that even if i edited it now it would do very little. but noted for future reference#edit 2: nvm enough ppl have come to rb it from me directly that i changed the wording a bit. hopefully this makes sense#also. in case anyone is curious. though i doubt anyone who is commenting these things will check the original tags#1) my friend did not do this on purpose in any way. it was not intended to distract me or to hit on me. im a lesbian hes a gay man. cmon now#he felt very bad about it afterwards. i thought it was hilarious but it was very embarrassed and apologetic#2) “why didn't he use 🫵🏼?” didn't exist yet. “why didn't he use 🆗?” dunno! we'd been using a lot of hand emojis. 👌🏼 is an ok sign#like it makes sense. it was just a silly mixup. also No i did not invent 👉🏼👌🏼 as a gesture meaning sex. do you live under a rock#3) nonspeaking episodes are a recurring thing in my life and have been since i was born. this is not a quirky one-time thing#it is a pervasive issue that is very frustrating to both myself and the people i am trying to communicate with. in which trying to speak is#extremely distressing and causes very genuine anguish. this post is not me making light of it it's just a funny thing that happened once#it's no different than if i post about a funny thing that happened in conjunction w a physical disability. it's just me talking abt my life#i don't mind character tags tho. those can be entertaining. i don't know what any of you are talking about#Except the ppl who have said this is pego/ryu or wang/xian. those people i understand and respect#if you use it as a writing prompt that's fine but send it to me. i want to see it#aaaand i think that's it. everyday im tempted to turn off rbs on it. it hasn't even been a week
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druid-for-hire · 3 months
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[images ID: three images of a comic titled "one must imagine sisyphus happy" by druid-for-hire. it is a visual narrative beginning with someone with wrist pain (depicted by bright orange nerves) working at a drafting table. the reader is shown the same wrist as the person uses it for many everyday tasks such as carrying a grocery basket, pushing elevator buttons, typing, and doing dishes, until the pain dissolves all the panels into chaos. the person then performs several physical therapy exercises until the pain subsides. they sit back down at a desk with their laptop, sigh, and begin typing. a small spark of pain reappears. end id]
a fun little piece i made during the semester and submitted into our school comic anthology! (which you can buy at the Static Fish table at MoCCAFest in NYC ;] ). it's about artists and injury
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cityandking · 5 months
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oc asks: not-so-nice edition
alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?
betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?
bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?
break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?
desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?
failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?
fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?
future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?
ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?
guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?
hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?
heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?
hide: What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it?
hunt: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?
mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?
midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?
mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?
monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?
nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?
pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?
secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?
skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?
torture: Has your OC ever been tortured? Would your OC ever torture someone else?
wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?
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emptygoldstudio · 6 months
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[3] Losing team 🥈
Prompt source for October
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poirott · 3 months
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David Suchet watching Poirot clips on Instagram
- Poirot and More clip, December 8 2023 (also on David's Twitter)
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cryptar · 1 year
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au where ALL the batkids inherit bruces adopting problem, but it's for kids that remind them of themselves
When a hyper-intelligent juvenile figures out his identity and starts following him around on patrol the only thing Tim can think is that this is karma
Steph sees any spunky kid with a villain parent and a hunger for justice and goes 'mine.'
An angry, bitter kid shows up at the police station and Dick immediately starts teaching them how to juggle
Jason reiterates to himself that he's not anything like bruce while collecting crime alley kids like pokemon cards
The little redheaded techie from Barbaras workplace accidently calls her mom and she nearly cries
When a mute youth with a truly horrible father needs a place to call home, Cass doesn't hesitate when inviting them into hers.
it only makes sense for Duke to take the new meta-vigilante under his wing, right? right??
Damian doesn't realise he's mentally adopted the small, scruffy assassin sent after him until he's reading them a bedtime story.
none of them tell eachother until there's a family reunion and then it's just
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starryeyedjanai · 2 months
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Every Saturday night for the past few months has been Steve’s date night with a random assortment of girls.
And every Sunday morning, Eddie goes to Family Video to hear about how it went, trying so hard not to feel like a bad friend when he finds out that it hadn’t worked out.
The few times when Steve told him there would be a second date felt like a crushing blow, but then the next Sunday would come around and he’d listen to Steve lament about never finding “the one”.
So he’s surprised to come home on Saturday to find Steve sitting on the front stoop of his trailer.
“Hey,” he says, confusion in his voice. “What are you doing here? Thought you had a date.”
Steve stands up and lets Eddie unlock the door before following him inside.
“I canceled my date,” Steve says and when Eddie looks at him, there’s an expression on his face that Eddie's never seen before.
“You canceled? Did something happen?” he asks, running through a list of scenarios that would cause Steve to cancel a date and not liking any of them. Was someone hurt? Was it Upside Down related?
The sudden anxiety must show on his face because Steve steps forward and says, “Nothing bad. I just—I realized something.”
“You—?” Eddie cuts himself off with a quiet gasp when Steve steps even closer, the tips of their shoes touching.
“I realized I wasn't excited to be going on a date. That the part I was most excited about was seeing you in the morning to tell you about it.”
His hand comes up to cup Eddie's face and Eddie leans into it, his heart racing, thudding so loud he can hear it in his ears.
“I—I think I’d much rather be going on a date with you than anyone else,” Steve says, his voice hesitant.
“I’d much rather you go on a date with me than anyone else too,” Eddie says, finding his voice again.
Steve smiles and it lights up the entire fucking room like sunlight peeking in from the window, spreading warmth all over Eddie’s body. “Yeah?” he asks, like he can't believe that Eddie feels that way, like that’s the surprise here.
“Yeah,” he whispers, his eyes drawn down when Steve licks his lips.
“Can I kiss you?” Steve asks, and Eddie is helpless to say anything but yes.
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golden-cherry · 2 months
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deal - cl16 (23/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: There's nothing sweeter than unexpected visitors.
Warnings: 18+ (just be prepared for some words), fluff (like a lot), Pascale is the sweetest thing on this planet, teeny tiny bit of angst
Word Count: 3.2k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: hello everyone! I hope you all are doing okay after the Ferrari-Carlos-Lewis thing, because I'm still in denial. this is mostly fluff, because I couldn't manage you dealing with more bad stuff this week. love you! feedback is appreciated!
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Before you can say anything or even react, the blonde woman lets go of your hands and snatches one of the magazines lying on the coffee table in front of you. She rolls it up with her slender fingers before smacking Charles across the back of the head. 
"Maman!" he exclaims angrily, rubbing his head. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"
The woman holds the magazine under his chin so that the Monegasque has no choice but to look her in the eye and return her stare. "That's no way to talk to your mother." She puts the magazine back in its rightful place before turning to you again. "Try again, chéri."
Your friend has to hold back a grin before he spreads his arms out and hugs his mother. "Good morning, Maman. It's really good to see you."
"It's good to see you too, mon chéri," she replies lovingly, stroking his broad back once with her hand before releasing herself from the tight embrace. She puts her hands to his cheeks to study his face. "I didn't know you were back home."
Charles tilts his head, his mouth forming a thin line. "I'm sorry I didn't let you know," he replies meekly, taking her hands from his cheeks so that he can press a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "I've had a lot on my mind."
"I can see that." She pulls her hands from his and then turns to face you. When she looks at you, you stiffen. All of a sudden, you feel as if you're naked in Charles' clothes, she's looking at you so piercingly. "I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself properly yet. I'm not usually as rude as my son." Charles rolls his eyes as her smile is affectionate and gentle. Then she wraps you in a hug that is careful, but firm nonetheless. It's a good hug. "I am Pascale. It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise." After you've also introduced yourself, you return her smile. 
"Now that you two have met," Charles interrupts your conversation. "How do we come to be honored with your company, Maman?"
As if it was her own home, her own four walls, Pascale leaves the hallway and goes into the kitchen, where she grabs a cup and makes herself an espresso at the coffee machine. Like two lost puppies, the two of you follow the beautiful woman. "I was called in tears last night." When the loud buzzing of the machine stops, she takes a sip of her coffee before placing it on the countertop. "Can someone explain that to me?" With her eyes glued to her son like an annoying price sticker on a new plate, you're off the hook. 
"I didn't think she'd call you."
She?
"And I didn't think you'd just kick her out of the apartment without giving her some warning," Pascale replies sharply, raising an eyebrow to show her disapproval of Charles' behavior. "She called me in the middle of the night, upset with you and crying bitterly because you kicked her out of the apartment with a simple text message."
Something flashes in your mind. When you followed Charles back to the bedroom last night, he was typing away on his cell phone. And when you told him that he'd be crazy if you went with him to the apartment where his ex still lives, he assured you that she wouldn't be there. 
You didn't expect him to just throw Annika out of the apartment so that you would have a safe place where Raphael couldn't harm you.
"Maman." Charles raises his hands placatingly. "It wasn't like that."
"So you didn't send her a text message telling her to pack her things and leave within thirty minutes?" When Charles doesn't reply, but simply stares at his mother open-mouthed, she runs her fingers through her hair in bewilderment. "I didn't bring you up like that. Have you completely lost your mind?"
"Maman -"
"No 'Maman'." Judging by the look on her face, she would like to hit him over the head with the magazine again. "Do you know what the consequences could be?"
"Maman -"
"She could go public with it!"
"Maman -"
"And - and damage your reputation! She could -"
"Maman!" Charles almost shouts at his mother to break out of her mental spiral. She looks angrily at her son, who takes a small step towards her. He lowers his hands. "Annika cheated on me."
As if all the air had escaped her body, Pascale plops down on the chair where you were eating pancakes just a few minutes ago. She puts her face in her hands and takes a deep breath before looking at her son again. She tries to blink away the tears in her eyes. "Is there anything I can do for you, mon chéri?"
Without answering, Charles closes the distance to his mother and holds her tightly in his arms. He rests his cheek on the top of her head and closes his eyes. "It's all right, Maman. Please don't worry, okay?" He squeezes his mother a little tighter as her arms wrap around his middle. "It's all right. I'm all right. I'm in good hands here."
Pascale's gaze flickers to you and a small smile crosses her beautiful face. You recognize Charles in it. "You'll take good care of him, won't you?"
You feel the blood rush to your face. Suddenly it feels wrong to be witnessing this loving conversation between mother and son. "Of course." With everything I have.
"Very well, chéri," Pascale finally says, gently pushing her son away. "Your brother is coming to visit tomorrow. As you haven't seen each other for a while, I'd like you to come to dinner. He would definitely be happy to see you." She looks at you again. "You too, sweetheart."
Before you can respond, Charles looks at you and shakes his head, barely noticing, so you don't turn down her invitation. "All right, maman. We'll be there." He nudges her lightly with his elbow. "As long as there's pasta e pollo."
Pascale rolls her eyes. "You're incorrigible, Charles." She smiles at him anyway. "Your new girlfriend gets to decide. After all, she's the new addition to our family and I want to make a good impression."
"Maman, she's -" Charles tries to explain himself, but his mother merely raises her hand to silence him. When Charles and your eyes meet, you feel warm. And when he pushes his lower lip forward, he looks so cute that you can't help but agree with him. 
"Pasta e pollo sounds great."
Pascale gets up from her chair. "Very good. Then I'll get everything ready for tomorrow." She strides past you towards the front door and you follow her again. "I'll see you tomorrow evening. I'll let you know the exact time, mon chéri." She kisses Charles' right and then left cheek before repeating it with you. "Tomorrow we'll have enough time to talk about all this. And to get to know each other better."
"I can hardly wait," you answer her honestly.
"That's very nice. Then I'll see you tomorrow evening. Bonne journée," she wishes you before disappearing from the apartment just as quickly as she came in. As the door closes behind her, you both exhale deeply.
"I'm so sorry." Charles turns to face you.
You cross your arms in front of your chest. "Sorry for what exactly? Your mother suddenly showing up here?"
He runs his hand through his hair and leans back against the closed door. "That you're now forced to spend the evening with my family. And that I didn't make it clear that we're just friends."
You run your tongue along the inside of your teeth. "It's okay, there's plenty of time for that." Then you smile. "Your mom seems nice. I have no problem spending time with her."
He laughs briefly and then leans his head against the white wood. "It's not my mom that worries me. It's my brothers. They can be really - you know - brothers sometimes."
You walk towards him and lower your arms. "Why? Are they that bad?"
He grabs one of your hands and plays with your fingers. His eyes search yours. "I think it's better if you make up your own mind about them."
"So they're that bad?" you joke, allowing him to pull you closer so that you're standing between his legs. "If they're anything like you, I think I'll get on well with them."
His free hand rests on your hip. Despite the layers of fabric, you can feel the warmth of his skin. "Then you'll hate Arthur." His fingers press gently into your flesh before something behind you catches his attention and he releases you - too quickly for your liking. As you turn around, the piano catches your eye and the roses standing on it. 
"What's the plan for today?" you ask him, trying to draw his attention back to you. You release his hand from your hip, but only to pull him into the kitchen so he doesn't have to look at those stupid roses anymore. "Do you have to do anything? Gym? Or do you have any appointments?"
Charles sits down in his chair and fishes his cell phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants. "I don't think so," he answers and takes a look at his online calendar before placing his cell phone on the counter in front of him. "I don't have any appointments or commitments to meet until after Christmas. Until then, I'm all yours." His smile is sweet as sugar and your heart skips a beat.
You want to grab him by the collar of his shirt, pull him across the worktop and kiss him until you can't breathe. Touch him until the countertop is used for something other than cooking, but this morning you convinced yourself that this friendship is the right and, above all, the only way this can work. And that you wouldn't do anything to sabotage this friendship.
"How about we use this time wisely then, huh?" You reach for Pascale's coffee cup and rinse it. 
"Do you have an idea?" He raises an eyebrow and has to stifle a smile when he sees your grin. "Of course you have one. Otherwise you wouldn't have asked like that. Fire away."
"So," you start and put the cup back in its place in the cupboard. "We've finally spoken and we've agreed to stay in this apartment together."
"As friends," the Monegasque confirms the thought you just had, even if you don't understand why he has to say it out loud. 
Your eyes dart towards the hallway, knowing that the white piano with the red roses is just a few meters away. "What do you say we go out today and buy some new things for the apartment?" you suggest. "Then I could get things for my room and maybe something else to make it feel a bit more like home."
"You mean to make it feel like it's your apartment too?" Charles leans back in his chair a little and runs his hand through his hair. 
"Only if that's okay with you. After all, it's your apartment and I could understand if you wanted to leave everything as it is at the moment and -" you babble nervously without thinking about what you're saying. You look at him worriedly and try to read his face to see if you might have crossed a line. 
"That's actually a good idea," Charles finally replies, smiling at you. "But are you ready for it?"
"For what?" you ask, confused, leaning against the countertop, which - unfortunately - is only used for cooking.
Charles shrugs his shoulders. "For being seen outside. With me." He looks at you like a kicked puppy that's been abandoned on the street in the middle of the night.
"I told you I have no problem with that," you assure him and walk around the kitchen counter to sit next to him. You reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers. "We're friends, Charles. We know we're friends. And I don't care what anyone else thinks they know about us." You tilt your head a little to one side. "Our friendship is real - and that's why we're going right out there to buy some new stuff for the apartment."
His smile almost makes your heart stop. "For our apartment," he corrects you, his green eyes twinkling.
"Our apartment," you repeat softly. 
"Okay." He lowers his gaze to your hands, and the way his fingers wrap around yours makes it feel like they're perfect for each other. The two of you spending time together shouldn't make you this happy. "But we'll only go on one condition."
"What's that?" 
"We're not going alone. We're taking Pierre and Kika with us so that it doesn't look like we're shopping for furniture for our apartment as a couple in love." The fact that he doesn't want to go out alone with you feels like a punch in the gut. When he notices the hurt look on your face, he squeezes your fingers gently twice. "It's just to protect you, Y/N."
The fact that he doesn't trust you to do this hits you harder than it should. How many times do you have to tell him you're ready? That the opinions of others don't matter to you as long as you have Charles by your side? Does he really think you're that weak?
"I don't need to be protected," you reply sharply and take your hand away from him. 
"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he tries to reassure you, but the fact that he's talking down your feelings doesn't make things any better. 
"Maybe not," you say annoyed and get up from your chair. "But there will come a point when we're on our own. And then everyone's going to be talking shit about us, I get it. And I get that it's going to be bad." You don't care that you're acting like a defiant child. The fact that Charles doesn't want to be seen alone with you hurts more than you would ever admit. "So why not today?"
The young man in front of you looks away from you with a crestfallen expression before also rising from his chair. When he reaches for your hand again, you allow it. "I want you to be able to turn away from me if it gets too much for you. I want you to have the chance to live a normal life if you do decide against me." His other hand rests against your cheek and you snuggle up to him as if it were a reflex. "I don't want you to regret meeting me."
The fact that he thinks you could ever regret befriending him stabs straight through your heart. He wants to protect you from something you both have no control over, and although you'd like to stroll through Monaco holding hands with him, you can understand him.
He is trying to protect both you and himself. And you can understand that all too well. 
"All right," you give in and smile gently at him. "Then ask them if they're free and up for it today. It could be fun."
Charles lets go of you and the warmth that had been flowing through your body immediately disappears. While he talks to Pierre on the phone, you go back to your room to get changed and think about what would look good in your room. 
Different curtains wouldn't go amiss, and some candles and a small mirror would look good on the white chest of drawers opposite the bed. You might also find some new bedding that -
"Y/N?" Charles' voice echoes through the apartment. You find him in the doorway of the master bedroom, where he glances over his shoulder in your direction. "Pierre and Kika are about to head out, then we'll leave together." 
"Okay," you reply, glancing past him into the room. There are a few things lying around that are definitely not his, and the decor doesn't suit him very well either. "So this is your room?" 
"Uh-huh." He wrinkles his mouth a little. 
"What's wrong with it? Apart from the obvious, of course."
He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Everything. I don't see anything in it that I wouldn't change."
You'd be only too happy to set the whole room on fire if it would certainly help him. Just like the roses that have burned themselves into your memory. You nudge him with your elbow. "Then we've got a lot planned for today." You look at each other and when he reaches for your hand, you have to smile. "You don't have to go through this alone, Charles. We can do this as long as we're together."
His gaze flickers briefly from your eyes to your lips. "Together," he says softly in return, leaning down a little towards you so that you have to tilt your head back to look at him. His warm breath caresses your face as his free hand finds its place on his hip again to pull you against him. You feel his hard body against yours, his heartbeat under your fingertips as you place your hand on his chest. You feel his warmth as his nose bumps against yours, his hip against your stomach as he presses you against him. You feel his -
"Are you ready?" Pierre's voice comes out of nowhere as he and Kika walk through the front door. Thank God the bedroom is further back so they can't see you. 
Instead of letting you go, Charles presses you tighter against him so that you can feel him everywhere. "I think we need a new door lock," he breathes, leaning his forehead against yours. "Then no more uninvited guests can come in when we're together." 
When he finally breaks away from you, you have to take a deep breath. Although you've decided that you don't feel anything for him apart from friendship, he triggers something in you that no one before him has ever managed to do. 
You desire him. From the top of your head to the soles of your feet, you crave him, his touch, his skin on yours. And his words echo in your thoughts, making you dizzy. 
Together. Together. Together. 
You rub your face once and look after Charles, who briefly disappears in the direction of the living room, the opposite direction from your friends.
What you can't see, however, is him shoving his hand into his pants to control his raging boner, which is pressing almost painfully against the seams of his boxers. How is he supposed to put up with that when you live together?
Together. Together. Together.
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ghostbsuter · 5 months
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Water drips down in the corner, the steady dop drop drop— does wonders for the bat.
Batman has been taken, tied up, and undressed of his utility belt. It takes him a second to figure out who took him, by the large but empty and run down warehouse, the sound of the shore not far away.
The docks. He shuffles, bound and comm off.
Then, the steel enforced door slams open and Joker enters.
"Batsy!" He calls, overjoyed. The man walks to the bound vigilante and crouches to his height.
"It's been so long, hasn't it been?"
The vigilante grunts. "Joker."
"Today will be different." He goes on, "today, we have," the crime Prince drums his fingers on Batman's thigh. "A guest!"
He freezes at that, Joker has a civilian.
(Oracle sends out the message, her voice firm, and the coords are shared to the rest of the clan in seconds as she looks at her monitor. Batman's red dot at the harbour bright.)
"I'm a guest now?" The voice of a child asks, it brings slight confusion that the boy wasn't tied nor harmed in any way.
It's relief that he seems okay, but the danger of standing next to the Joker has Batman wiggling in his restrains.
"Is that a promotion or demotion for son?"
A brief look of annoyance enters Joker before being smoothed out, the boy is dealing with a delicate time bomb. Uncomfortably close to the madman.
(He hurries in the process of breaking free.)
"My son! My blood!" Sings the clown, throwing his hands around the boy's shoulders and prancing around.
Which brings another question.
Son?
Cool lighting hits the boy's head and the tuffs of pink, blue and green become more obvious, hidden beneath black hair previously.
Joker and Harley have a child. A son.
He will visit harley later. The boy comes first.
"Dante! Danyal! Daniel?" Joker croons, shaking the boy. "What was it again?" He stops, turning his son toward him with a grin.
(Robin drops down behind him, hiding, katana ready to be swung.)
"Danny, actually," the child— Danny– shrugs off the hands and steps back. Unflinching from the judging stare, simply waving off the hands creeping to his throat.
"Danny," the name is tested, and the Prince of Crime hums to himself. "We can always replace it as Joker Jr! It fits you better than Danny."
(Red Robin and Spoiler get on position above them, ready to pounce from the construction pillars.)
"Yeah, I don't know about that." He chuckles nervous, catching Batman's eyes and—
His eyes alone scream of fear, scared– scared—!!
"We will get you an acid flower, a new suit as well, the hoodie looks horrible on you." The man notes, humming.
"I prefer hammers." Danny replies with tense shoulders.
Joker clicks his tongue, "You always went after your mother." he hisses, outright glaring at his son now. His hand tightened around the crowbar he'd gathered not long ago.
"I mean," he hesitates, eye trailing off the Joker and over his shoulder. "I did come out of her."
The sound of a loaded gun shatters the silence, and Joker is pulling Danny, switching their positions and pushing him right in front of the gun in Red Hood's hand.
"Always a coward, hiding behind others, aren't you." Danny stops himself from squealing. That's the Red Hood!
(Escrima sticks light up with electricity as Red Hood speaks.)
Joker is ticked off, party ruined and surrounded now that he looks around.
Oh well, he can get his son on his villain path another day.
Cackling, he evades the escrimas, dodging the wonder boy and evading the twin attacks from above.
He pulls out a trigger and presses the bright red Button.
"Have fun bats and birds!"
The warehouse is completely flooded with fear gas, scarecrow wouldn't be mad he sacrificed one of his warehouses, will he?
It's all blurry. In one moment, his view is shrouded, and he's coughing. In another, he gets picked up and brought outside, the Joker gone.
An oxygen mask is placed on him by a paramedic, being handed off to an ambulance that had been called.
Peeking around, he sees Red Hood (!) still lingering around. Danny catches his eye and with a wave, the man is walking towards him.
He simply crosses his arms and tilts his head, waiting.
"Could I get a picture?" Danny blurts out, flushing after and coughing, holding the oxygen mask in his lap.
Red Hood makes a show of his shoulder sagging before crouching down and leaning toward him.
Later, Danny will look at the picture with a boyish grin, crooked and charming.
.・゜-: ✧ :-
A continuation
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ijustdontlikepeople · 2 years
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Prompt: The intimacy of feeling someone’s warmth through their clothes when you hug and Muke as requested by @pixiegrl
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starwrighter · 4 months
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Yet another chirp au let's go!
Let's say that ghost chirping doesn't exactly sound like birds. Like it doesn't come from their throat and instead comes from their cores. And while avian themed ghosts chirp like birds most have their own way of chirping.
The yetis make chuffing noises of various pitch as they use their breathing to amplify the sound.
Technes and other technological themed ghosts mad robotic noises. With Technes specifically making dial up noises.
Ember and any musical themed ghosts mimic their instruments.
The box ghost's chirps like cardboard being folded while the lunch lady sounds like a pan sizzling.
Skulker's chirps are like gunshots while Walker's are like the slam of a cell door.
Spectra's chirps sounds like people crying while youngblood's sound like giggling.
Now here's the fun part. Danny's a halfa, and as much as I love the idea of him having a space obsession I'm going with the protection obsession because I want to.
Danny's chirps are different because he's half human. He can't exactly hear them just as we can't hear our own heartbeats unless we have a tool our are having a panic attack. Other people can hear them just fine though.
Danny, decides to leave Amity Park because enough people hate him and try to kill him unprompted that it's interfering with his obsession. He decides against going to metropolis because lex Luther is just another Vlad that'd rally people to hate him too.
Danny decides to go to gotham because there's plenty of people to protect and there's no crazy billionaire only a ditsy one.
The only problem is Danny's chirps sound like dead people. Danny taking advantage of his powers so imagine it being late at night, you're a cop beating the crap out of a man stealing diapers for his son and you hear a distorted.
"Helllllo?"
And it's your dead mother's voice.
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filurig · 4 months
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instructional booklet for basal and listless ceteceans feeling like looking for porpoise
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unnerd · 2 years
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Places you should add to your little town/city in your fantasy world!!
Post offices. Wild, I know. But give me the unhinged kind. Pingeons and little postal dragons all over the place. You enter. The most disgusting smell fucking assaults your nostrils. You know what it is. Letter in hand, you go up to the counter. The postal worker is just a slightly bigger pigeon. You shed a tear.
PLAYGROUNDS!! Create the most dangerous kinds of playgrounds, the ones suburban moms would TRIP if they ever saw one. Monkey bars that are way too tall, swings that go full circle... The metal slide stays the same, it's already painful enough.
PARKS!! MAKE IT ALIVE!! Show people going on walks, reading beneath trees. C'mon most of them are already hundred years old (And are going to die after that CR 15 creature wrecks the town) anyways!! Show couples and picnics, show a family enjoying the sunday, give me someone picking flowers for their loved ones.
A bakery! Do you know how much these places are underrated? And do you know how much plot potential they have? Every good story starts with food poisoning or granny's recipe! Give me a place your players/readers are going to treat like home and, for once, it's not a tavern or a guild.
Government buildings! Give me a town hall that has a kilometric line in front of it. Give me a registry that is as old as this town. Give me police stations! Give me courtrooms! Make one of your players get arrested and now all of the party has to go through burocracy like a bunch of normal people!
(Who am I kidding? You don't need to make them get arrested. They are going to do that for you.)
Touristic attractions! Give me a full-on statue of the country's leader! Give me museums! Give me streets, ruins and whatnot that attract thousands of tourists everyday! Give me an annoying city guide that tries to get the party's attention everytime!
Magazine stands! Magazines don't exist? Newspaper stands! From the Queen's Journal to the most questionable new piece of Fox's Tailtracker, you have it all! Make your players doubt what's actually happening, sprinkle a little fake news... Or is it fake at all?
...Toy stores. OK HEAR ME OUT. Make magic toys; miniature skyships that actually fly, metal toy dragons that expel fire, little wands that make little light spells, wooden creatures that can move and make noises... Make children happy! And your players too because they will waste their money on these stuff.
Instrument store!! Make your bards happy with special instruments or just weird ones! Give me a battle in one of those that is just filled with funny noises and the worst battle soundtrack ever!!
Not exactly a place but... Cleaning carts!!! Show me people cleaning the streets, picking up the trash, cutting trees!! Make the town look clean!! Give me an old man that is really proud of his work!!!
(or ways to make your players feel even worse when the villain destroys the town later on :) )
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nrnyx · 6 months
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Prompt: Can’t go wrong with a body swap scenario 
Thank you @imtryingandtired for the prompt! I hope you enjoy!
“Scott, we have a problem!” 
Scott's eyebrows did a thing that would have made Derek proud. “What? A bigger problem than the fact your body swapped with Derek.”
“I gotta pee,” Stiles rushed to say as he hopped from foot to foot. 
Scott's puppy face scrunched up with a mix of confusion and concern. “Why is that a problem? Does Derek have like a… medical condition? Does it burn or -”
“What, no! No!” Stiles cut in with a furious wave of his surprisingly soft but equally masculine hands. He lowered Derek’s voice even more so those in the next room wouldn’t hear him. “I just - what do I do, man? I have to, like, take it out and…”
“You mean you haven’t yet?” Scott asked in genuine surprise. 
“Of course, I haven’t, dumbass! What do you take me for? I would never take advantage of anyone's so very hot, like insanely hot and tempting body - temporarily mine or not.”
Scott threw up his hands in surrender. “Sorry! I’m sorry, I just - you haven't even looked?”
“No!” Stiles exclaimed, stomping Derek’s foot. “Help me!”
Scott looked around as if an answer was hiding somewhere. “I - I don’t know man, maybe asked Derek?”
“Ask Derek what?” Came Stiles's voice even though it wasn’t Stiles speaking. “What have you been doing to my body, Stiles?” It was amazing how Derek managed to make Stiles's eyebrows move in ways Stiles had never managed himself. He didn’t know his face could scowl like that. He didn’t know he had the muscles for it. 
Stiles, who was in Derek’s amazing body right now, closed his gorgeous eyes in defeat. Derek seriously had the longest eyelashes. He was never going to hear the end of this. 
Scott began to chuckle uncomfortably as he rubbed the back of his neck helplessly and waved a hand at Stiles. “That’s the problem he won’t do anything to it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Derek asked, crossing Stiles’s arms over his chest. It was so weird seeing Derek’s expressions on Stiles's face, although the stance was missing its usual impact due to the severe lack of big, beefy muscles to back it up.
Stiles pinched the bridge of - Derek’s perfectly symmetrical nose and decided just to bite the bullet or risk worse embarrassment if he didn’t figure out his dilemma soon. “I have to pee.”
Derek’s - Stiles's eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline. “So go pee.” 
Stiles felt Derek’s all too tempting mouth fall open with his own shock. “I - I mean… it doesn’t bother you?” 
Stiles watched his own slender shoulders shrug, although Derek couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m more worried about the state of my bladder, to be honest. How long have you been holding it?” 
Stiles felt Derek’s cute ears go red in embarrassment, and wasn’t that a weird feeling? Now, not only did he know what Derek looked like when he blushed, but he knew how it felt as his adorable ears grew warm. “A while, I guess. I was trying to respect boundaries. I mean… I wasn’t sure - have you?” 
Stiles now knew what he looked like when he blushed. Was it always so obvious? 
“Oh,” Stiles said, feeling himself turn even redder, and he wondered if it was as visible on Derek’s darker skin as it was on his own pale skin. So Derek had touched his… Stiles couldn’t think about that right now, but it figured the first time another hand, even though it was technically his very familiar hand, had been on his dick, he wouldn’t be there to experience it. 
This was such a weird situation. 
It wasn’t like Stiles had anything to be embarrassed about. He was rather… endowed. It was sort of a thing he was known for, a rumor that followed him around school, even though he was still a virgin, so no one but the guys in the locker room could confirm it. 
Derek cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I didn’t realize it would be an issue. I’m sorry if I overstepped -“
“No! No!” Stiles protested before Derek could feel bad about it. If a guy had to pee, he had to pee. “I don’t have a problem with it. You’ve got full permission to do whatever you want with my body,” Stiles joked, trying to break the weird tension. He knew how much consent meant to Derek, which was why he’d been so hesitant in the first place. “I just thought that you might have an issue with me, uh… handling it.”
Derek just looked at him. “If you need permission, then this is me saying you can pee.” 
Stiles breathed a sigh as Derek’s big, broad, amazing shoulders sagged in relief. “Oh, thank god, do you maybe want to come help?”
“Are you asking me to hold it for you? With your hands?” Derek deadpanned, and did Stiles really look that bitchy when he was being sarcastic? He could see why people always felt the urge to hit him.
“I - I Just mean, do you?”
Derek looked at him with exasperation. “Stiles, go pee!” 
Stiles jumped into action. “Yeah, okay, do you like… want to come with -” 
“Stiles!” 
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