Latest Posts by aro-in-danyl - Page 9

Every writing advice thing ever: Don’t get bogged down in details on your first draft. Just write! ☺️

Me: How I begin this scene hinges on whether cheese sandwiches were served with mayo in the 50’s.

“Uh, Professor, er, sir,” Harry stumbled over the seldom-used honorifics in his bafflement. “Uh, on your mouth…?”

“Lipstick, Potter,” Snape sneered, the expression all the more pronounced with the cosmetic assistance.

“Oh, uh, it’s, um, it’s black?” Harry hadn’t known lipstick came in anything other than his aunt’s subdued pinks or the vivid shades of red that Petunia considered sinful and salacious (and intolerably reminiscent of Lily to ever be permitted back into the precariously normal life of Number Four, Privet Drive).

“Very good, Potter,” Snape said sarcastically. “Twelve years old and you’ve learned your colors.”

That was pure nastiness and entirely unfair.

“I’m fifteen!”  Harry protested, which earned him a merely sardonic eyebrow. “Almost fifteen,” he amended.  “I’ll be fifteen on Monday.”

Harry longed to surpass Snape in sheer churlishness and considered pointing out that muggle men generally didn’t wear skirts.  Certainly not in Little Whinging.  Definitely not when Dudley and his gang were roaming the streets.

He’d seen plenty of oblivious wizards sporting spiffy new dresses as their muggle disguises at the Quidditch World Cup the previous summer (a lifetime ago, before Cedric was murdered and he hadn’t been able to stop it from happening).  But there was something peculiarly well-tailored and suspiciously well-worn about the Potions Master’s garb that suggested less “disguise” and more “daily wear”. He found that his brain was oddly unwilling to acknowledge the existence of Snape’s psychedelic cardigan. His mind kept trying desperately to wallpaper something sensible over the bizarre image his eyes insisted on perceiving.

“…nice skirt,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” Snape drawled the false gratitude out with a smirk. “It has pockets.  Dipshit and Dumbass there were too excited to get on the road this morning and didn’t give me any time to do laundry.”

“Am I ‘Dipshit’ or am I ‘Dumbass’?” Sirius whispered loudly, grin gone well past manic.

“I believe Severus called me a ‘dipshit’ among other things for forgetting to take my Wolfsbane last year,” Remus replied thoughtfully, “So, Sirius, that probably makes you the dumbass.”

“I’m more of a hot piece of ass, but okay,” Sirius said with a wink. “Hi, Harry!”

“Hi, Sirius,” Harry said weakly, glad for the excuse to sidle past Snape.  “Uh, what are you doing here?” The Daily Prophet hadn’t said anything about Sirius being pardoned and news like that, while less of an urgent headline than Voldemort’s return, wouldn’t lurk about in the society pages or behind an advice column.

“Dumbledore told me to lie low at Lupin’s place,” Sirius beamed with an innocence so intense it could only be artificial.

“And, er, well, what with one thing and another, it really hadn’t seemed like a good time really to mention that I’d been, ah, evicted,” Lupin added, “…again.”

“Renting really seems like such a bother,” Sirius opined. “So I bought a house for Remus here.”

“Oh,” said Harry, who had witnessed Aunt Petunia compulsively twitching the curtains as she tried to discover how Mrs. Number Seven had eluded neighborly surveillance and, somehow, managed to sell her house to a person or persons unknown to the remaining residents of Privet Drive. “Isn’t that supposed to take a long time?”

“Building a home takes a lifetime,” Sirius said sagely. “Buying a house just takes money.”

Snape’s scornful snort brought Harry’s attention back to the least welcome visitor to Little Whinging.

“So, uh, why did you bring,” Harry gestured vaguely, unsure if the word ‘him’ could accurately encompass the snidest professor present, “Snape?” He’d rather noticed that Snape hadn’t lifted a finger to help Sirius and Lupin move any of the large boxes from the lorry into Number Seven.

“Severus knows how to drive,” Lupin explained gently. Sirius’ mouth opened, prepared to protest.

“Severus,” Lupin repeated, louder this time, “Has a valid muggle license to drive.” Sirius’ subsided.

“And I know how to hot-wire cars and lorries,” Severus added smoothly. “And,” Lupin echoed wearily, “ Severus knows how to ‘hot-wire’ muggle vehicles.”

“I’m learning to do that,” Sirius said helpfully, “I’m going to figure it out too.  I’ve nearly got it.”

“Talk is cheap, Black,” Snape scoffed starting to stroll in the last direction Harry wanted him to go, “I’ll believe you when I see some tangible results.”

“Wait!  Stop!” Harry wondered if he’d get in trouble for tackling a professor outside of Hogwarts.  It would be worth it, to try to alter Snape’s trajectory towards the front door of Number Four.  “Stop, stop, stop!”

For all Harry’s desperate scrambling, Snape maintained his lead.

“Please stop!” Harry begged as the professor hitched up his skirt slightly, “Use the bell!  You don’t have to kick the door in!” Aunt Petunia was probably at the door, surely she’d spied them across the street at Number Seven.

Snape kicked the door, already unlatched in Petunia’s nosy anticipation, open.

Aunt Petunia let out a shrill little scream.

“Hello, Piss-Tuna,” said Severus Snape, far more gleeful than he’d been even when Harry and Ron were facing the threat of expulsion after flying a car into the Whomping Willow. “You look as awful as ever.”

Piss-Tuna, Harry thought as his world tilted on its axis, Snape, Professor Snape, just called my aunt Piss-Tuna.  This can’t be happening.

“You—!” Her face was white, her eyes were wide, and Petunia Dursley, née Evans, practically growled in her outrage.

Harry found himself thinking that Brazil might be a very nice place to live. It was far away from Privet Drive, for a start.  He wondered what it would take to get there.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Tuney?” Snape’s foot had blocked the door from closing.  “I’m more than happy to have this confrontation on your front step if you’d prefer.”

“We, ah, brought some biscuits,” Lupin added. “Store bought. Assorted.  With chocolate.  Er, I’m, ah, we’re the new neighbors. So nice to meet you again.”

Petunia goggled at the lot of them.

She also stumbled back, which Snape seemed to take as an unspoken invitation.  Harry found himself dragged along in the professor’s wake, with only Sirius’ hand on his shoulder to steady him in the swift tide of strangeness.

“I can’t believe your taste in interior decoration deteriorated into this level of disgusting kitsch and doilies, Tuna,” said the man who decorated with floating dead things in jars. Severus surveyed the photos on the wall, on the mantle, on the little side table.  So many perfectly posed pictures of a happy family of three- mother, father, son- and a lock on the cupboard under the stairs. Narcissa had been absolutely right.

“Is that my jumper?” Harry jumped.  Petunia’s voice was high and thin and quite peculiar.

“You’ve really done a terrible job of raising Potter,” said Snape, and Harry bristled. Of course Snape wanted to criticize him, Harry had been expecting the criticism, but he loathed the thought of his two biggest critics were now sharing notes and combining forces.

“Not only is he, like the majority of students, a careless menace in the laboratory, but I have also wasted entirely too much of my already limited time deciphering his atrocious penmanship to correct insipid essay after insipid essay only to see the same flawed reasonings repeated week after week.” It was news to Harry that he was supposed to read the sea of spidery red notes Snape deposited on every essay.  It seemed rather unfair, given that Snape could fit five lines of text for every one line Harry wrote. The single “P”, or the occasional and welcome “A”, was more than sufficient in Harry’s view.

“That’s my jumper.” There was a touch of hysteria in Petunia’s tone now.

“He will be taking his O.W.L.s this year, his O-levels if you prefer,” Snape continued, demonstrating more confidence in Harry’s continued survival than Harry typically expected to hear from the Potions Master. “Unfortunately, his current record of scholastic mediocrity, his stubborn refusal to revise, and a peculiar incuriosity about magical theory does not bode well for his continued academic career.”

“You little bastard! That’s my goddamn jumper!” Petunia’s shriek derailed Snape’s momentum.  The unexpected profanity from his aunt made Harry’s brain stutter to a halt.

“Tuna,” Snape frowned, “We’re not here to discuss my sartorial decisions and I will never take wardrobe critique from you.  I only deigned to enter this suburban hellscape to discuss your horrendous failure to raise and parent Mr. Potter.”

“Biscuit, Harry?” Sirius offered, retrieving the tin from Remus.

“You stole my jumper!” Shockingly, Petunia’s epiphany failed to shatter glass.  Yet.

“Didn’t,” sniffed Snape.

“I thought it was Lily who stole my jumper!”

“She did. I just hid it for her.” 

“I bought that jumper myself!  I’d saved up!”

“Yes, I know.”

“It was for an interview!”

“We wanted to spare you the humiliation of being seen in public wearing such a hideous thing.  You even got that position, even if you didn’t keep it for very long.”

The biscuit was rather good, even without tea, and it was beginning to dawn on Harry that Snape and Aunt Petunia were more inclined to tear into one another than join forces against him. He felt oddly inclined to cheer for Professor Snape, despite the ranting about Harry’s scholastic shortcomings. Perhaps it was because Harry knew so little about his mother that every glimpse was a pearl he treasured.

“I want my jumper!” Did she learn that tone from her little Diddykins or had Dudley inherited that petulant demanding pitch from Petunia?

“And I want you to understand how your failure to nourish any academic inclinations Mr. Potter may have shown before the age of eleven may have rather dire consequences for futures beyond his own, but I fear we can’t all get what we want.” Remus handed Harry another biscuit before he could think to protest.

“Give me back my jumper!”

“Fine!” Snape finally snapped, fingers tearing at the buttons in wrathful haste.  “Fine, here!”

Petunia caught the cardigan with her face and a squeak.

Severus Snape looked like a stranger again, in the ratty, oversized band shirt, hair disheveled from the jumper’s passage.  Harry hadn’t seen the Dark Mark his professor had shoved under Minister Fudge’s nose in the Hospital Wing those few weeks ago, and he found himself oddly glad that the mark was concealed under a peculiar leather bracelet with metal studding.  A wand holster, perhaps.

“Are you prepared to face your shortcomings now, Tuney?” That dangerously silky tone was entirely familiar, and Harry took another biscuit before he was told to go serve detention during summer vacation.

“It smells like Cokeworth,” Petunia’s complaint was bitter, for she dreaded the day her neighbors discovered the lingering taint of the Cokeworth streets sullying their Surrey security.

“Hey,” said Sirius, who had gone oddly still.

“I wasn’t going to take it to Hogwarts, was I?” Snape said.  “It’s acrylic, you know that sort of stuff doesn’t hold up around magic.”

“Hey,” said Sirius.  “Hey.” His face was a rictus of delight, as pleased as Petunia had been put out. “Snape. Isn’t that, isn’t that my shirt you’ve got on?”

“Oh, oh,” snarled Severus.  “Not you too!”

Death Throes 2.2.23

DP x DC. Danny Phantom, Clockwork, Wonder Woman, John Constantine, Nightwing.

Clockwork goes to war with the Observants to protect Danny. It ends up spiraling into a fight that destroys the entire time stream, and with it the rest of their universe.

Clockwork manages to get them safely out to another universe, but with the time stream of their universe -the very object of his obsession- destroyed, his core is fractured, he has a few weeks left at most before his End. And with Danny's obsession being to protect, well... with Clockwork's impending death on top of the entire rest of their universe, the clock is ticking for him too.

No-one is the DC universe knows any of this when they first arrive. All they know is that another universe's version of Kronos arrnd his firstborn son Hades have entered this universe, which gets passed on hard and fast to the Justice League by anyone even remotely capable of sensing the problem, because That Is Not Good. A pair of critically injured ghosts were not what the Justice League was expecting to find.

Day (612/100) in my #∞daysofwriting @the-wip-project 2nd of Feb

How I Met Your Brother (DC x DP)

Dan joins the Justice League - not as part of his rehabilitation, but as a reward for doing so well.

Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning Dan in front of Jazz. And as an eldest sister myself I would not be happy about an alternate version of my sibling being left completely alone in the world, no support, no family to then be turned into a psychopath. And I would be furious for them to then be imprisoned - not for life but for all time?

However, unlike me, Jazz is the world's foremost authority on ghost psychology. She has Dan out of his Thermos and in a larger enclosure within the week.

Now, a lot of fics have Jazz as a magical therapist who can say a few sentences and make any bad guy cry. Sorry, not today though.

First, they resocialise Dan like a feral cat (solitary confinement does make people get loopy), sitting outside his enclosure and hanging out, doing homework etc. This sort of gets him to figure out emotionally that he's no longer in the timeline where everyone he ever cared about died.

Danny discusses with him how many nightmares he's had over just the idea of losing his entire support network the way Dan did and he can't imagine what he's been through. But no emotions are not, in fact superior to having negative emotions.

After a few months, he decides that he does in fact want to actively try and get better. He goes to a therapist (because family members can't do therapy!!!) who's just unhinged enough to get a kick out of counselling a ghost from an alternate timeline.

There's only one relapse. Clockwork fixed it and they don't talk about it.

A month or so later they let him out of the enclosure for good. They offer to symbolically destroy it but Dan thinks they should keep it just in case.

While Dan's humanity has returned, his actual human half is gone forever. But he's interested in doing something with himself. He can't get a GED, or a degree, or be an astronaut. Maybe something in entertainment?

Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning that the Justice League headquarters are in space. Dan isn't as powerful anymore now he's no longer a halfa, but he knows he's handy in a fight. He loves space and due to having them repeatedly and ineffectively implemented against himself - a deep knowledge of international war tactics.

NGL, this isn't where I thought this story was going. But Dan is now an international politics, war policy and foreign affairs expert, I guess.

He helps a fair bit on the team, but his key contributions are his encyclopaedic predictions of how different international communities will react to events. If an out of control meta in Paris takes down the Eiffel Tower, he predicts which countries will immediately 'crack down' on their superpowered citizens - that sort of thing. It's invaluable for their PR team and young meta safety.

He's a friendly guy, doesn't judge anyone for losing control of their powers or going 'too far' on a villain who hurt their friends and family. And he never shuts up about his kid brother who is apparently also his best friend. He briefly mentions a baby sister he's never met and that makes everyone pretty sad.

He doesn't consider this Jazz his sister. He's already had a sister named Jazz and isn't looking for a 1:1 replacement. This Jazz is more like a mum-friend. However, he never had a Danny or an Ellie in his last life.

"My little brother told me about the trick to this level in Doomed 17, want me to explain what you're missing?"

"Sorry, I really can't possess you, even for 'anti mind-control' training. That isn't how overshadowing works, you can't become immune without exposure to ectoplasm in dangerous doses. No, I can't get you some pure ecto, my baby brother would kick my ass to hell."

"Yeah, my baby bro and I both wanted to be astronauts, I died so it's not in the cards for me anymore, but he has a real shot still, we're all rooting for him!"

Most Justice League members think he's a dead eldest brother with living siblings he's still in close contact with.

It's all fun and games until he tries to take a bullet for Batman during an ambush and it's actually an amnesia ray designed to make Batman forget about a specific case until the bad guy can complete his plan.

"I killed you all before, and I will do it again."

Not in my usual format but oh well

Danny only knew three things about Gotham, the dark and aptly named city he had accidentally showed up in after some inter dimensional shenanigans in the infinite realms. One, Gotham was practically overflowing with bad vibes and crime. Two, Batman was Gothams usual vigilante, the one who kept the bad vibes and crime at a reasonable level. Three, for about a week and a half, Batman had been MIA.

Now Danny didn’t know much about this Batman fella, hadn’t even seen him before, but he figured it was a heroes job to step forward and help the other with his city so it didn’t go crazy.

So Danny bought a domino mask for cheap from a souvenir booth, got some heavy duty pants and a dark and thick hoodie from a local thrift shop, grabbed his Creep-Stick and decided it looked enough like a baseball bat, and went out into the night to help his fellow vigilante. The petty criminals were horrified of the new vigilante with glowing green eyes and a bat to match, and the batfam (most of whom were holed up in the mansion trying to keep Bruce from working himself to death directly after a near-death experience) were a bit interested and a bit wary.

Finally, one of the Batkids hunts him down, asking him “Who are you?”

“Oh ancients! Does no one see the bat? I’m Batman! Duh!”

~if you see us in the club we'll be acting real nice~

hmm I think one of the best things A Series of Unfortunate Events did was establish that being nice =\= being kind, that being polite =\= being helpful, and that a lot of adults with real agency let bad things happen because they are “trying to mind their own business,” (which looks especially damning when you contrast that with our protagonists–literal children with no agency, and no choice as to whether or not they can afford to “just mind their own business”) and that’s why: 1) you get such a real sense of despair at the end of it all 2) it’s an effective statement about how nothing gets better if people go on their whole lives thinking that they can just be nice and polite to others without ever really engaging in the world around them

Reasons I should have known I was aro, number 37573:

At 15, I realised I had an intense desire for a roommate. I imagined we'd be close friends, and hang out a lot, and have this morning routine and I would cook for them sometimes

But we'd also have different rooms, and there would be a distinct lack of codependency and absolutely none of that "weird romantic stuff".

I- a queer platonic relationship. I wanted a queer platonic relationship.

Short DPXDC Prompts #489

Johnny 13 and Dash as Roommates in Gotham. 

the words "he's indisposed, he just had a baby" is exactly the type of dialogue one can only expect from Doom Patrol and precisely the type of shit that doesn't faze us. your fav show could never

Larry: I figured he'd love it or hate it, y'know

Cliff: So he seems to kinda love it

Larry: He's been playing with it all day, and refuses to come back to me. Think that's good?

Cliff: What if he loves it cos plasma balls and shit are like crack to negative spirits. What if you're giving your baby hard drugs right now

Larry, falling over running to turn it off: SHITSHITSHITSH-

You, the queen of a fairy tale kingdom, got cursed to give birth to a princess who’s going to live her life isolated in a tower the first 20 years of her life. Narrate how you avoid your daughter’s fate.

Oh no there’s two of them

DP X DOOM PATROL (DC)

SLIGHT Doom Patrol SPOILERS

I've been watching Doom Patrol lately and wow is it a fever dream.

A fucked up found family bumbling around and trying to be heroes? It just makes for some interesting dynamics with Danny having the most hero experience. There are so many ways to bring Danny Phantom into the Doom Patrol.

You could have Danny, Dani, and Jazz being hunted by the Bureau of Normalcy, and miraculously saved by Niles Caulder.

Or if you wanna go a more wholesome route, Danny the Street finds them and they gain a new sister in the form of Dorothy.

And then there's the dead boy detectives.

I love the batman crossovers as much as anyone but DC has so many more characters to explore.

DP x DC

Okay, so I’ve read a lot of these (like, a lot) and I’ve seen a lot of “Danny’s friends and family die and the bats adopt him” but I haven’t really seen any where Sam, Tucker, and Jazz come back as ghosts, not even an off handed conversation explaining the possibility.

So what do I want? I want a fic that starts the same way all the others do, but when it gets to the “bats figure out the ghost stuff” I want Danny to confide in them about how confused he is because really:

Should he even be mourning if they come back as ghosts? Like in that case, it’s more like they went anyway for a while and eventually came back, a little changed, but essentially that’s what happens. But just because they have a higher chance at becoming ghosts doesn’t mean that they will.

And even if they do come back, time is wonky in the infinite realms, so they could end up in any time, and it takes a while to form a ghost, so that could be 20 years from when they died. Also, we don’t really know that much about where ghosts even form and the infinite realms are not named metaphorically, so that’s another problem.

What I’m saying is, we have so much lore in this fandom and it really makes me sad that people use dead as an end-all be-all when the whole thing is literally about the afterlife. Dive into the lore, explore how emotionally confusing that would be to a boy who lost everything. Explore how he would feel, wondering if he could even grieve, if he should grieve, if he didn’t and waited and they never came back, like there are so many angst and fluff possibilities.

What does it take to get an AU of Danny the Street adopting Tom Riddle before his nose is chopped off? 

Random Genderfluid Thing #500

Danny the Street is my Hogwarts.

rian johnson you've done it again

tbh one of my fav things in the knifes out series is that we have stereotypical 'genius' detective but that doesn't mean he has to be shut off and emotionally distant. he gets mad at injustice and tells ppl to shut the fuck up!!! sherlock bbc has poisoned the water supply for long enough nature is finally healing

i need the bbcu (benoit blanc cinematic universe) to be a franchise right up there with the mcu and star wars and the dceu. i want it to be an unspoken notion in hollywood that if you retire from acting having never been in a knives out mystery you have failed as an actor. again not a want but a need please and thanks

Art References Tumblr Accounts!

Some of these may be in the wrong category. Some may need to be in another category! Do tell me (either through my ask box or reply) if I need to change or add something! Have fun looking through these accounts!

HUMAN ANATOMY

http://anatomicalart.tumblr.com/

http://amazinglyartisticadvice.tumblr.com/

http://learninganatomy.tumblr.com/

http://artutorials.tumblr.com/

http://referencesforartists.tumblr.com/

http://the-art-post.tumblr.com/

http://ibelievepracticemakesperfect.tumblr.com/

FASHION/CLOTHING

http://lifestylefashion.tumblr.com/

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http://vogue.tumblr.com/

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http://fuckyeahwarriorwomen.tumblr.com/

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ANIMATION

http://wannabeanimator.tumblr.com/

http://drawingforsuckas.tumblr.com/

HISTORICAL

http://fuckyeahvintage.tumblr.com/

http://lostsplendor.tumblr.com/

http://doctormonocle.com/

http://tass-posters.tumblr.com/

http://centuriespast.tumblr.com/

http://www.cavetocanvas.com/

http://1920s.tumblr.com/

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http://1940s.tumblr.com/

http://1950s.tumblr.com/

ART TIPS/TUTORIAL

http://fyeaharttips.tumblr.com/

http://fuckyeaharttutorials.tumblr.com/

http://art-tutorials.tumblr.com/

http://thecandyjar.tumblr.com/

http://eyecager.tumblr.com/

http://underappreciatedart.tumblr.com/

http://artists-help.tumblr.com/

ART REFERENCES

http://pb-resources.tumblr.com/

http://artreferncesforyou.tumblr.com/

http://simonist.tumblr.com/

http://idlm.tumblr.com/

http://artreferences.tumblr.com/

http://theprophetandtheliar.tumblr.com/

http://art-help.tumblr.com/

http://artanecdotally.tumblr.com/

ART INSPIRATION

http://pythias.tumblr.com/

http://submit.curioos.com/

http://stoopidanchovy.tumblr.com/

http://artistdirectory.tumblr.com/

http://fuckyeahillustrativeart.tumblr.com/

http://deviantfinds.tumblr.com/

http://gunnerromantic.tumblr.com/

http://1000reasonsnottostartmakingart.tumblr.com/

http://nightgrain.tumblr.com/

http://kayspiration.tumblr.com/

http://referenceartgallery.tumblr.com/

http://artforadults.tumblr.com/

MISC.

http://attadesign.tumblr.com/

http://digitalgrfx.tumblr.com/

Whoever is threatening Harry is about to learn ‘an object in motion, stays in motion unless acted upon by another force’ via a sleep deprived, nicotine addicted professor, with homicidal tendencies.

Short DPXDC Prompts #537

Mr. Lancer is a retired Slade Wilson.

Amorpho Whomst? (DC x DP)

Everyone knows that King Phantom's appearance fluctuates based on his mood and the task ahead.

Dynamic battle, working in a team to achieve the impossible? King Phantom is a young boy of 14, quippy despite the inherent sadness of a child ghost.

Showboating, standing in front of a powerful enemy to tell them that "No, Earth is already occupied." or to a ghost: "You've taken it too far this time." And King Phantom is a huge man with red eyes and hair that flickered like candleflame.

And if the mission was sabotage and espionage, sneaking into fortresses previously impregnable? King Phantom is a girl, even more unsettlingly young than the first.

Danny has no idea why everyone has so much trouble keeping the three of them straight - constantly referencing events that happened while he was on sabbatical from JLA work. However, Danny does appreciate that because technically all three of them are technically the same person that the King workload can be spread out a bit - those realms are infinite after all.

Jason, in full Red Hood gear: Hey mom, can I borrow one of those new Thanagarian guns you guys got?

Diana: Sure, sweetie.

The rest of the League:

Bruce: *sighs*

The rest of the League:

The rest of the League:

Hal: wtf

Hot take: dc x dp, but with good parents Jack and Maddie fenton.

Yes, Danny is part of the batfam. Yes, Bruce has legally adopted Danny and would have adopted jazz (if she didn't insist she was too old to be adopted). Jack is still their loving father. Maddie is still their devoted mother. Both parents recognize that their children love the batkids and the batparents (Yes, this includes Alfred and Maybe Selena) as family, and as the family doesn't seem abnormal (by amity park standards) they let their kids develop healthy relationships with whoever they want.

Made fenton is Bruce Wayne's science nemesis. She doesn't buy "Brucie" for a second. Millionaire playboy who? Every time she picks up her kids from his house as per the shared custody agreement, she finds him tinkering with some strange device and casually points out "yknow, you have something, but it could be better if you....". She's so used to correcting her husband's math errors and design flaws that the first time she catches Bruce with an unsafe device, reflexes kick in.

Jack, on the other hand, pulls an uno reverse on Bruce. Bruce thought he was adopting a black haired and blue eyed teen with angst issues. Nope! Jack now has a new reclusive rich best friend! They're family, practically brothers! You want to run for gotham mayor and end city crime? Anything you say B-man!

Jack and Maddie start showing up to batkids's civilian events for moral support. Cassandra has a ballet recital? They're in the front seat; cheering her on! Tim has a big presentation in front of the company board of directors? Yet again, Jack and Maddie somehow got past building security; and holy heck, why do they have a "support Tim Wayne" t-shirt cannon?!!? After the 5th cookie care basket with sugar snaps that tried to eat his stapler at the bludhaven police station, Dick now has to politely ask them to stop sending food. He appreciates the effort, but the gingerbread men caused a queen of fables scare and tried to eat a convict.

Jack and Maddie know Danny is phantom. The "threats" to shoot him? He's their son! They'd never! But they can't let him know that they know, so they keep up the act half heartedly. They realize their invention killed him. They realize everything they thought they knew about ghosts was wrong. But how do you say sorry to your kid if he isn't ready to forgive you? Especially if you've wronged him infathomably. You don't. You love him unconditionally; and you live each day with him as the gift it is. And you keep his secret, even from him. You fight infathomable and terrifying monsters each night, over and over, praying that once they're gone he can sleep safely. If he ever wants to forgive you, he'll tell you; when he's ready. And if he can't? You live with what you've done, regret and greif forever seered into your soul. You know he is loved and cared for. He is protected. To you, that's all that matters.

DP x DC Prompt #2 - Fenton Cafe

Inspired by that one underground bar post @stealingyourbones

The Fentons move to Gotham to support Jazz at her new college and open up a small cafe on the first floor of their blimp house to earn money. 

Now the Fentons moved to a sketchy part of Gotham cause that’s the only place they could land safely. It doesn’t take long for rogues to slither in looking for easy cash. 

And promptly get blasted by the Fenton anti-ghost Defense System. They wake up to Maddie and Jack tending to their wounds and shoving a tin of fudge into their hands, respectively. The goon/rogue gets booted by Danny after being forced to listen to his parent’s ghost rant for several hours. 

Weirdly, it doesn’t take long before the cafe becomes a safe haven for rogues and goons alike to relax. But then the bats arrive to get a handle on the new ‘villain hideout.’

The Fenton’s don’t discriminate. The bats get the same treatment as the rogues all the way down to the complimentary fudge. No one comes into their house with that kind of attitude. 

It’s a Violence-free unless you’re a Fenton zone. 

But It’s a real party when Danny’s rogues start showing up. 

I hate everything I draw right now, so, y’know, the name of the game is memes!!! and shitposts!!! and a couple of ‘screenshot redraws’ but they’re just sketches!!!

(u can pry fantasy-times happy-family vlad/jack/maddie out of my cold dead hands btw)

me: haha oh god this is so bad im making so many unsupported claims and pulling all this analysis out of my ass

my prof in the margins: excellent analysis!

me: 

Imagine dannys rouges fighting him thinking he is like one of the older ghosts because they can't detect his ghost core at all and thats a old ghost thing

But it's because dannys core isn't fully funded until one day he gets caught by his parents and they go vivisection on him

He flees and one of the rogues find him and are like "oh god he's just a baby, a hurt baby, oh my god I have been throwing down with a baby.... I have beaten by a baby"

And they all fly around him anxiously and teaching him stuff because suddenly he's so weak! What happened!

Then the parents get him again but worse and he flees the universe

It only takes them around two weeks to find them and he is in the middle of being held up by the joker as hostage when "BOOM" the joker gets body slammed by the skulker

Now we got skrunkly Danny with his league of caretakers against the world

When I was a kid, my mom was a judge and my dad was starting his solo practice, and they both worked full time. There were four of us kids between the ages of one and seven (the Just Us League) and no decent daycares nearby, so they hired a nanny.  She had three almost-adult children, and on days when she couldn’t work, one of her kids would substitute. The oldest kid was named Bob, age 18, and he had just finished army basic training when this all went down. Bob did not have the good sense god gave a rock. 

I have an older brother, Jake, who was seven; then me, Hellen, age five, then Seth, age three, and my little sister Gin would have been one. It was late August, and we were at our nanny’s house, though she was gone for the day. Bob was in charge.

Bob should probably not have been in charge.

Bob tried keeping us entertained with board games and tag and movies. Gin took a nap. Eventually he decided to get creative, and sat us down in the living room with a game and vanished into the garage. There was a smashing sound. And then some saw noises. And then some hammering. And then we saw him going around the house to the back yard through the windows, though we were too short to see what he was doing. And finally, he yelled to us to come out into the driveway. 

Jake and Seth and I trooped out. Bob had both hands behind his back. He stepped up to Jake and revealed what he had in his right hand. 

It was a wooden sword. It was clearly made from what appeared to be parts of a chair’s legs, cut down and nailed together. He presented this, and announced, “You are Sir Jake, the strongest knight!” 

He stepped up to Seth and presented what was in his left hand. It was another wooden sword, smaller than the first, also crudely made out of chair legs. He announced, “You are Sir Seth, the bravest knight!”

At this point, I was practically vibrating in place, waiting eagerly for my sword so I could use it to whale on my brothers, as god intended me to do. I was therefore understandably disappointed to be presented with the business end of a garden hose and told, “You are Miss Hellen, the Water Fairy!”

“No,” I said. “I want a sword.”

Bob was confused. “But you get water magic! Magic’s great!”

“No.” I repeated, holding the hose. It had a spray nozzle set to jet. “I want a sword.”

“Magic’s great. Magic’s better than a sword.” Bob insisted. “You’ll see. Wait here a moment.”

And then Bob ran around the side of house and vanished. 

We stood in the driveway. Jake and Seth poked each other with their swords. I spritzed them idly with the hose, trying to decide which of them would be easier to steal a sword from. 

And then we heard a quiet wooshing noise, and smelled smoke. 

We turned. As we watched, a line of fire rushed around the corner of the house, consuming a path of gasoline poured into the dry August grass. 

We paused and considered this for a few moments. I raised the hose and sprayed a jet of water at the fire. It went out. We glanced at each other. Then we took off running, following the trail of fire, spraying as we went. 

The fire led in a path around the house to the back yard. As we turned the corner, we saw Bob, clad in a bathrobe and holding a curtain rod, standing in the center of a large ring of burning grass. He cackled manically. “I am the FIRE WIZARD! Your puny swords are useless! Nothing but water magic can defeat me!”

I promptly blasted him with the hose. He spluttered. The fire did not go out. 

I turned the hose on the fire itself, spraying a section close to us so that it would extinguish. As soon as there was enough room, Jake charged forward, brandishing his chair leg sword with a battle cry. Seth, always happy to be included, followed. They ran into the circle and began beating Bob around the kneecaps with their swords. I kept spraying. 

Eventually, Bob the Fire Wizard was brought down and all the fire was extinguished. Seth and Jake continued to work on bruising Bob’s shins, and I quickly discarded the hose to lend my fists and extremely pointy elbows to the cause. Bob lay in the smoldering grass, probably regretting using such sturdy chair legs. 

Once we’d all tired ourselves out and lay panting in a heap, Bob decided it was time for the moral of the story. “You see, a sword is nothing compared to the power of a little girl with **magic**.” 

We thought about this for a few moments. Bob nodded wisely. Jake and Seth nodded back. 

“I still want a sword.” I said.