Tumgik
#they need a new home
glazenewt · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Up until November 26th, these four lovely punch needle pieces I made are on sale for 25% off on my Etsy! Snag them while they're available!!!!
26 notes · View notes
miroana · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Percy Jackson will do your quests
Tumblr media
6K notes · View notes
puppetmaster13u · 5 months
Text
Prompt 100
“What are you, a Kent?” 
It’s a saying in the world of the supernatural. A well-known one even. See, several, many generations back, no one quite knows when, the Kent family managed to run afoul of a particularly nasty creature who laid a curse upon them. The original wording, no one quite knows either, but the gist, everyone is aware of. For no firstborns will be born to them before they already have one. 
It was supposed to be airtight in a way, a curse that would end the entire bloodline really. For a child to exist before they could have a child? How could that be? 
Well. That curse had… backfired. It had backfired massively. Most, at least back when blood was everything, didn’t exactly ponder things like adoption to those outside of their own bloodline. The Kents however, lived in a very simple village, one that had disease spread through it often back then, leaving families childless and children parentless. 
What were they to do but take them in? And so they had a son, many sons and daughters even, before their firstborn. Now of course, most would simply dismiss it afterwards. After all, that was the end of the story, isn’t it? 
Well, no. See, the curse was a family-line curse, a just in case perhaps, that meant that each generation could not have any children until they had children. Perhaps it should have ended there, but well. It didn’t. 
Kents are a strange breed in the world of the supernatural, known for having a… bit of an adoption problem. If any child or babe were to be left near their land, one can be assured the family line would take them in as their own. 
Fae, demon, human, changeling, satyr, cyclops, half-breeds, werewolf- it didn’t matter. A Kent would gladly pick the child up and raise it as their own. And now, they could add aliens to that long, long list in the family line. 
And really, perhaps with this context, is it really surprising that when one Clark Kent, said alien, opens his door to a basket on his doorstep holding a trio of godlings, he takes them in with no questions asked? 
2K notes · View notes
dostoyevsky-official · 7 months
Note
mask off 💀
it turns out i'm a little soft hippy centrist shitlib after all: i don't like it when civilians get killed. i am beholden to the idea that life is sacred, holy, and inviolable, that civilians are innocent no matter how much you do not like them. i am against cruelty—i have always been against it— and i believe that informs my understanding of the past and present: i am against the apartheid state and the blockade, i am against the ongoing carpet bombing of gaza. i will not cheer with you when dead bodies get dragged and spat on in the street, i do not think it is a moment of liberation when children get kidnapped and beaten. because i am against cruelty i do not celebrate shooting up 250 stupid concert goers. because of the principles i hold i don't like it when israel murders children, as it has done so in the last 48 hours, with the world's support. i do not support a government that kills over 200 innocents with impunity in retaliation. i do not understand what massacres justify which other massacres. it is barbaric to deny clean water and basic medicine to children; it is barbaric to shoot them, it is not a revolution. i don't like the kahanists and their state that led to this and i don't like hamas. i will not support the state of israel—i never have—and the impending invasion of gaza, instigated by two groups of fascist religious fundamentalists. i think cheering any part of this tragedy atrocious. but now i've gone and pulled a both-sides!
i want you to look at what's happening as a real act and not a media event where you pick the side that's convenient for your team. set aside the outrage, look at the people dying, and think of each life, that holds so much and is a miracle in itself. try to understand the immense tragedy of what it means for that to be cut short. do you not value life? does your value of life inform your politics? do you not support palestinians because you value life?
i’ve consistently posted about how opposed i am to violence targeting bystanders, the terror and bloodshed it achieves and nothing else. the history of the twentieth century, still unfolding around us, tells me that much. if you are celebrating, you are either an idiot, consumed by online politics, or you have lost some sense of humanity; look around—look carefully—and try to preserve it instead
2K notes · View notes
emporium · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Pants are important (and on sale right now for $40)
Pants are important. They are the foundation of human civilization. They are the only thing that separates us from animals. Have you ever seen a Panda Bear wear pants? What about a fish? Didn't think so.
Pants not only keep us warm but out of trouble. Today, go to work or school or outside without pants and see how long it takes for someone to get upset and try to get you in trouble.
Our sweatpants were overpriced. We paid too much for them (cough, cought, custom woven tag) which pushed the retail price too high. That won't happen again.
I'm sure there are those among you saying I'd never buy those, they have the word "tumblr" on them. I'd say if people are staring at your pants that carefully, carefully enough to read that it says tumblr you need to get the heck out of there.
I've put the pants on sale for $40, which is basically our cost. I'd much rather see them out in the world keeping your phone safe and warm than on my shelf judging me for being such a terrible marketer and not being able to sell them.
Edit: Here is the sizing chart, sorry for not including it. HT to @cursedbekoi for finding a sizing chart was was actually useful instead of the one I originally posted.
6K notes · View notes
mechanicalinfection · 8 months
Text
He gets a little quirky at night.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
ruporas · 11 months
Photo
Tumblr media
cheers to the future of humanity (and the future of us)
[ID: Digital illustration in color of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun. The illustration takes place during the ship/home arc, specifically chapter 21. At the center, Vash is grabbing Wolfwood by the collar and pulls him into a kiss in the middle of a celebration. The pair is colored in vibrant warm hues while their surroundings are colored in cooler colors like green and teals. Luida, Brad, Meryl, and Milly are shown amongst the crowd, occupied in the celebrations as Vash and Wolfwood share a moment by themselves at the center. END ID]
#vashwood#trigun#trigun maximum#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#hospital yuri (explodeds) like any average vw enjoyer i will never get over that arc#specifically the scene where they heard the news of earth ships coming and did that little handshake they somehow conjured or#Had already. and then the entire ship had a party... meryl and milly started drinking immediately from joy and dragged vash and ww to get#wasted too and overall celebrate together. the chapter moves quickly just like how the hope was quickly withered out and died just hours#later when knives destroyed it. BUT IM JUST THINKING ABOUT IN THE MOMENT OF IT ALL bc in the same chapter#ww asks for a chance for tomorrow and then gets news of earth ships coming. in this same arc vash is thinking of all the things he needs to#resolve so his home doesn't get attacked so the people he love doesn't have to die and the humans he wants to protect gets to live.#i feel like deep down they both semi-recognize that it can't be this easy and regardless of earth ships coming- there's still a wait for#them to arrive and they have to hold out. and regardless ww still has a mission to follow through and vash knows knives would find out#but in that mood of celebration the entire ship brought in - they can at least let themselves relax for a moment and indulge#how they basically engaged with no violence for the few days they were on that ship coaxing them into domesticity... i feel like their#thoughts would wander to somewhere soft and all#allowing them to push aside the tiptoeing and tenseness and be sweet for a night#ruporas art
3K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
all this to say: i think it'd be cute if Barnaby literally howls with laughter
2K notes · View notes
deuynndoodles · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[ID: A colored, digital two page comic featuring Danny and Jazz from Danny Phantom. Danny wears a baggy hoodie over a shirt and jeans. Jazz wears a v-neck sweater and shorts.
Fentonworks, after curfew: Danny reaches for the doorknob to his bedroom, breathing out and gripping his shoulder.
"Where were you?" says Jazz, hands on her hips, making Danny jump. "Look, I know that Mom and Dad don't really care, but I do. You can trust me." She looks sad. "What's going on with you?"
"None of your business, Jazz." He looks irritated. He reaches for the doorknob again, muttering, "Just lemme sleep."
"Wait!" is written in all caps. Jazz reaches out, pulling at the hood of his jacket. Danny turns and raises his arm out of his hoodie, revealing an ectoplasmic injury. "Fuck off!" he yells.
Jazz pulls her hand away, startling backwards. Then, she looks sad as she says, "Oh, Danny…"
Fade out. They now stand in the Fentonworks bathroom, with Danny sitting on the toilet and Jazz hovering over him, cleaning a wound on his left shoulder. He's now in a binder and the original ectoplasmic wound has been treated. She scolds him and he grins nervously, curling in on himself. End ID.]
happy holidays @torscrawls !
614 notes · View notes
luxaofhesperides · 5 months
Text
We Are Robins meeting to Signal apprehending Danny ; requested by @zylev-blog!
“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?”
Danny gives Duke a tired smile, his head falling back against the wall. He’s sitting up today, which is good. It’s definitely an improvement from the many days Danny was unable to do much but lie down and grit his teeth through the pain as Duke checked on the gunshot wound. It’s a good thing Danny’s a meta with a healing factor, or nothing Duke could have done would have saved him.
As it is, the wound was severe enough to keep Danny vulnerable and unable to move on his own without making it worse. Though Duke has looked, he hasn’t had any luck in finding whoever did this to Danny. He hasn’t brought it up to the rest of the We Are Robin gang, but only because Danny only let him help if he kept it between the two of them.
What’s another secret? If it lets him stay close to Danny and make sure he’s healing well, then he’ll keep quiet and carry on the search by himself. He’s got plenty of practice in doing things on his own.
“Busy out there?” Danny asks as Duke sits down next to him, dropping his backpack onto the ground. 
“Yeah, it’s tough with the cops after us, but someone needs to help Gotham and with Batman gone…”
A pained expression crossed Danny’s face. Eyeing him carefully, Duke opened his backpack and pulled out a few protein bars and sports drinks for him. Once Danny takes them and began eating one, Duke takes out the first aid kit, always kept at the bottom of the backpack, and sets it in front of Danny.
The most he can do is offer supplies and company at this stage of Danny’s healing. He gets twitchy and tense when Duke tries to tend to his wound, and seems to have plenty of practice in patching himself up. 
He didn’t answer when Duke commented on it once, so Duke let the matter drop. 
Metas may have legal protection, but that doesn’t stop people from targeting them. Duke has no intention of pushing Danny into remembering unpleasant things while he’s already wounded, hiding out in the upper corner of an abandoned warehouse taken over by a group of homeless people. Most aren’t inside during the day, choosing instead to be out with the rest of the city, which leaves them alone. 
Duke keeps an eye on the ground floor of the warehouse, making sure no one comes in while Danny tends to his wound. When he peeks back, he can see that it’s much smaller than it was the night Duke found him, crawling down an alley with one hand clutching his side, tears slipping down his face. There had been so much blood that Duke was sure he had just stumbled upon someone dying and froze, horrified. 
And then a shout down the road prompted him to move, hauling Danny up and helping him into the warehouse to hide. 
For a normal person, if it didn’t kill them, the wound would still be raw and bleeding, larger than any gunshot wound he’s seen before. But Danny’s wound is closing up quickly, no longer bleeding, the edges a healing pink.
It doesn’t look like it’s going to scar, either. 
“Think it’ll be all healed up by the end of the week?”
Danny glances up, then continues covering it with new bandage, large enough to cover the entire wound. “Hopefully,” he says. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can figure out a way to get home.”
“Your folks gonna look out for you?”
“Probably. I’m not planning on telling them, though, since they’ll get way too overprotective. The only reason they’re not tearing Gotham apart looking for me is because I came here with my godfather and he told them we’d be gone for two weeks. Can’t believe he tried to kill me on day one…”
“Your godfather tried to kill you?”
“Yeah. Not personally, or anything, but he definitely hired the guy who shot me. Though he also yelled at him for shooting me? Not sure what that’s about, but I never trusted the guy and he didn’t try to help me afterwards when I ran away, so. You know.”
Duke wants to have a conversation with Danny’s godfather. Maybe bring the other Robins along to make sure the message sinks in: Don’t touch Danny.
But Danny, acting so casual about his godfather trying to kill him, would be unhappy about it, and Duke would really rather be able to take care of him than be shut out for trying to take control of the situation.
“Shit, man, that sucks,” he offers, instead of prying for details so he can hunt down his godfather. “You want a hug or something? I can’t really do much else, but if it can make you feel better about all this…”
Danny brightens and shoves the first aid kit away, his shirt (one of Duke’s old ones he offered up to replace the bloodstained one) falling to cover the bandage. “Please. I would love a hug, dude, I don’t remember the last time I felt so lonely.”
Carefully, Duke wraps his arms around Danny, leaning back so Danny could relax fully and not worry about holding himself up. Danny sighs into the hug, going fully limp as he drops his forehead onto Duke’s shoulder.
“Thanks for this. And everything,” Danny says some time later. He doesn’t move to pull away, so Duke stays as he is, watching the weak sunlight slowly move across the warehouse as it spills in from dirty windows. 
“You don’t need to thank me. I mean, I’m a Robin.” He brings up a hand to tap a finger against the R embroidered into his jacket. “It’s what we’re here for.”
.
.
.
It’s been years since he saw Danny. After he was fully healed, Duke helped him get to city limits, watching as he boarded a bus and disappeared down the road, leaving his life just as suddenly as he entered it.
After spending so much time together, quiet hours of stillness just looking out for each other, his life feels emptier without Danny in it. He knew it wouldn’t last, that Danny would go home eventually, but it didn’t make the parting any easier.
Even now, as Signal, taking a break from going on missions with the Outsiders to spend some time with the Bats, his thoughts drift towards Danny, wondering if he’s alright. In his darker moments, he wonders if Danny’s godfather has tried to kill him again, if he’s succeeded. In calmer, happier moments, he remembers Danny’s quiet stories about his family, his town, all his dreams and hopes for the future, remembers the easy company and how Danny didn’t look at him with pity when talked about his parents, just quiet and contemplative. 
Sometimes, he can’t resist the urge to look him up, but there are so many Danny’s out there that he doesn’t know where to start. He never got Danny’s last name or learned when he came from.
It’s not like he can just ask the Bats for help finding a guy he knew for two weeks before he ever joined them. They’re all busy with their own missions, and definitely don’t have time for Duke’s reminiscing. 
“Just caught sight of the truck entering city limits,” Oracle says in his ear. “It’s heading towards the Coventry.”
“On it. Any movement from the mobs?”
“None yet. I expect this to change soon. Red Hood and Black Bat are patrolling nearby if you need backup.”
“Got it. Signal out.”
His comline shuts with a little click, and then he’s grappling over the roof tops, keeping an eye on the roads in search of the truck. He doesn’t have time to think of Danny anymore, not when a shipment of new, experimental weapons is passing through Gotham. Spoiler had heard a few whispers of it and Red Robin helped find more solid details; the mobs are all looking to take the shipment for themselves in an attempt to get the upper hand in the nonstop fight for control of Gotham’s streets. 
It’s passing through during the day, visible and a good move to keep from being ambushed at night, but it’s not enough to stop mobs hoping to take out their competition with new weapons. Duke enters the Coventry just as his comline beeps once and Oracle begins giving him specific directions, along with a brief description of what the truck looks like. 
Apparently, the weapons are being moved in a U-Haul rental truck. That is… certainly a Choice™ to make for moving weapons around the country.
He follows it from the rooftops, but nothing happens. The truck passes through the Coventry without incident and takes a turn that keeps it away from Crime Alley and the Bowery. It gets to the middle of East End then pulls to a stop in the parking lot of a diner. 
Two people get out and stretch, then head in to get something to eat.
It would be the perfect time for someone to break in. Duke pulls the light over himself, manipulating it to make him disappear from sight as he looks down from the edge of the rooftop, tense and prepared for anything.
He almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s just a flicker, a flash of color, a shift in the shadows across the street. But he does see it, even if he can’t find it again, and drops down from the roof, creeping towards the truck.
Duke waits, holding his breath, off to the side of the parking lot. 
A minute passes. And then a figure materializes out of thin air, floating right behind the truck. All Duke can see is white hair and a black body suit; they’re either a meta or an alien, but either way, Duke is ready to take them down.
The figure lifts their hands and a bolt of neon green energy hits the truck, melting the back and leaving a large hole that gives them direct access to the weapons. And then they shoot again, destroying the weapons.
“Phantom!” someone shouts, and the truck driver comes tearing out of the restaurant, a white gun in his hand. His companion follows, her gun also out, and the begin shooting. 
Phantom dodges the blasts, then vanishes from sight. He reappears behind them a moment later, tackling back of them into the side of the truck. 
“No you don’t!” Duke say, rushing forward as he pulls at the shadows around him then sends them racing towards Phantom, restraining them. The driver and his companion collapse onto the ground, groaning weakly, and Duke grits his teeth. “O, send someone to look after the people moving the weapons. Apprehending an attacker now.”
He doesn’t wait to hear a response, tightening the shadow’s grip on Phantom, who struggles fiercely.
“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he says, pulling Phantom closer to him.
Phantom doesn’t answer. They just scream, the force of it making Duke fall back. His shadows dissipate, and Phantom flies up.
“Get back here!”
Duke gives chase, dropping in and out of shadows, throwing some at Phantom in the hopes of catching him again. But Phantom is fast and it takes all he has to keep up as they cross Gotham.
He thought Phantom was flying around blindly, but the way they move across the roofs and then through the streets are too confident, too focused to be anything other than someone with a destination in mind. But where? Where could they be going? If they’ve been in Gotham, then Duke would have heard of them.
A flying, powerful meta with a multitude of powers? Yeah, he would have known about them.
Phantom flies through a wall and Duke curses, going onto the roof and looking around, waiting to see them fly out. But they don’t and Duke finds a broken skylight to drop in from, landing on the support beams of the warehouse, well above the ground.
He knows the warehouse, he realizes suddenly. It’s the warehouse Danny hid in while he was healing. Duke hasn’t been back in years.
“Just listen to me, please,” a voice says behind him, and Duke tense, spinning around to face Phantom, floating just out of reaching distance. “Those weapons are dangerous. No one should have them, it’s why I had to destroy them. Please, you can’t let them get those weapons out.”
Duke stares. Something about Phantom is familiar. The shape of his face, maybe. His voice. Maybe it’s just because he’s in the warehouse again, with someone pleading for his help.
Maybe it’s all in his mind.
“Danny?”
Phantom flinches, floating back a few inches. “What— How—”
“What happened? Is it your godfather again?”
“My— Duke? Is that you?!”
He definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but Danny’s here. Danny’s here in front of him, needing help, and he doesn’t need the Signal. He needs Duke.
He pulls off his helmet and lifts his bare face to Danny.
“Oh,” Danny breathes. “Well. I guess I should have known you’d be a hero. Can you help me one last time?”
“Yeah, of course Danny. Tell me what you need.”
“Those weapons, they were first made to kill me and others like me. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time to explain. But they’ve been changed to affect humans, all types of people, as well. I can survive a few hits from those weapons, but for most people, it would kill them instantly. I need to destroy all of them and stop any further production before the rest of the world gets a hold of them.”
“That’s why you—”
“They have to be destroyed,” Danny says. “And the people making and selling them need to be stopped. I can’t do it on my own. I’ve tried, but…”
“I’ll help,” Duke says, “I’ll help. This is a big enough problem to bring the Outsiders into it. Or the Bats, but they like to stay in Gotham.”
Danny floats closer, looking painfully relieved. “Really? They’ll be able to put an end to this?”
Duke reaches for him. “Yeah. they can do it. I’ll make sure of it.”
Danny’s feet land on the support beam as his hand meets Duke’s. They balance above the rest of the warehouse, drinking in the sight of each other. Duke rubs his thumb over Danny’s knuckles in soothing circles and watches as the tension begins to fall away from Danny’s shoulders.
“Duke,” he whispers, “I’ve missed you—”
The door below is kicked open, and a gunshot rings out. 
Moving on instinct, Duke tackles Danny, wrapping him up in his arms as they fall off the support beam. They hit the ground hard, rolling a bit, and Duke tucks Danny into his chest, bodily protecting him.
“Narrows!” 
The Red Hood stands over him, menacing, a gun pointed at him. 
“Hood?” He loosens his grip on Danny. “What the hell was that for?” 
“Thought you needed back up. You chased after our guy and lost your helmet, I think I’m right to be a little worried about you. So, who’s this?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, and Duke realizes with a sinking heart that all anyone else sees is an aggressor, a meta who attacked a truck full of weapons, attacked two people, and had to be chased down by the Signal. Jason’s seeing a threat and acting accordingly, putting Duke’s safety first. 
And with his helmet off, identity clear, Danny’s even more dangerous now that he has this knowledge.
“I’m sorry,” Danny whispers to Duke. He doesn’t have time to ask for what? before Danny’s shooting another beam of green energy at Jason then taking off, flying through the roof and out of sight.
“Shit,” Jason mutters, straightening up from where he ducked to avoid being hit, then puts his gun away and kneels next to Duke. “You alright? Why’d you let him go? I thought you had him.”
“I’m fine. He’s not… He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just needed help.”
“Sure. And what are you not telling me?”
“I knew him. He’s a good person, but he’s been in danger for a long time. This was him trying to protect others from what he went through.”
Jason takes off the helmet and stares at him. Then he sighs and reaches a hand down to help Duke to his feet. “Alright,” he says, “Let’s head back to the truck. You have until then to convince me that they’re the problem, and if they are, then I’ll help you blow up more of their weapons.” He claps a hand on Duke’s shoulder, then pulls his helmet back on. “Grab your helmet. We’re wasting daylight, Narrows.”
There’s nothing else he can do, no way to search for Danny when there are other leads to chase, so Duke grapples up to the catwalk where his helmet landed and grabs it.
Just before he puts it on, he sees a flicker of white just outside the window he’s facing. He ducks his head to hide a smile. It’s almost like he’s stepped back in time; Danny’s here in Gotham, needing help and asking for it in the warehouse. 
And though so much has changed in those years, there’s still one thing that Duke will ensure never changes: he’s Danny’s hero. Above Robin, or Signal, or anything else, Duke is Danny’s hero.
This time, he has the power to actually help Danny. He’s going to make sure no one ever hurts Danny again.
“Let’s go,” he says, jumping back down to Jason, helmet on. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
519 notes · View notes
ilov3flors · 11 months
Text
Dead for a few weeks and came back with Frank and their clothes matching Eddie's color palette
Tumblr media
Guys is it just me or Frank is really hard to draw like I can't with them it's their head that bothers me I need to practice more 😭😭😭
Tumblr media
HAPPY PRIDE MONTH BTW 💜💖
1K notes · View notes
Text
Danny covered his nose with his hand. Where ever he landed smelled absolutely foul, like rotten fruit and burning tires mixed with chem lab.
"Remind me to bring a face mask the next time I explore the Infinite Realms." He muttered, before kicking a soda can down the alley he was in and being repulsed by the squelch sound it made when it came into contact with a very questionable looking puddle, "Better yet, a gas mask." He glanced at the puddle again, "Or I could go full Hazmat." Clockwork had told him this world was full of superheros and villians and to steer clear of it, but once he learned there were aliens in this world he couldn't help himself. Danny had always been weak to his curiosity, but he liked to believe he was cautious, and chose to stay in his Phantom for for added protection.
Turning on his heel he exited onto a deserted street lined on one side by a chain-link fence. The sky above him was filled with clouds so ominous and dark that Danny honestly couldn't tell you if it was night or day, all he knew was that it was going to rain soon and hopefully these awful smells would be drowned out by the downpour.
Danny got his wish only minutes later. Thankfully Phantom was unbothered by the cold and could just bask in the rain as it fell apon him. A lesser known fact about ghosts is that thier clothes are made from thier ectoplasm and are part of thier bodies, much like a second layer of skin, so one would be able to feel things on thier clothes as easily as they would with thier bare skin. The level of sensitivity varies with the type of clothing however. All this to say Danny loved the feeling of the rivulets of rainwater traveling down his ghostly hazmat suit.
He was so preoccupied with enjoying the sensation that he didn't notice anything was wrong until he was jolted forward from the weight of someone landing on his back. The person was quick and precise, taking no time at all to have his wrists pinned behind his back and- weirdly enough- thier teeth digging into the material around his neck.
His parents designed the Hazmat suit Danny was wearing not only to deal with dangerous chemicals, but to fight supernatural foes. The area around the neck was reinforced with the intention of protecting against fatal gunshots and decapitations so naturally someone's jaw wasn't going to be enough to break through to his neck.
Danny let out a laugh as the person kept chewing on his neck like a confused puppy. Oh, Danny thought, they've gone feral. It was odd for someone to go feral but it could occur when a person has gone through something traumatic recently or through extreme stress. It made sense since the person ridding piggy back on him was dressed like a superhero. Danny wondered if that was why the person didn't have a scent. Danny learns facepalmed when he remembered that scentblockers existed and not everyone's scent dramatically changed whenever they went out as a hero. The scent change was probably one of the few things that have kept him alive up to this point to be honest.
"So, I guess you're not going to tell me why you're chewing on my neck like the worlds most pathetic vampire, are you?" No one deserves that title more than the fruitloop to be honest. He made a mental note to use that one against Vlad the next time he saw him.
Chewy whined at this, seeming to slump a bit from the apparent failure to bite him. What was that about? Was this actually a vampire? How would a vampire even react to Dannys ecto-blood combo meal anyway? Would it be like food poisoning? Or would it taste amazing from one undead to another. "I'm not exactly human, are you sure you wanna bite me? I might not taste so good." Danny warned, but the moment he mentioned letting the person bite him they were eager again.
Danny chuckled and unzipped the material only a bit before it was loose enough to move out of the way. The vampires bite came with a sharp pain like he expected but there was no suction. No drinking of blood. Just some weirdo biting Danny on the neck. Huh.
Danny hoped he didn't get rabies from this.
He must have accidentally said that out loud as there was a small laugh from the rooftops above them. There stood another person in a superhero outfit with some really tall dude dressed as a giant bat, and that was when Danny decided to bail. It was one thing to let a maybe vampire bite you in a random street in the middle of the night but more of them? And ones a big scary furry? Hard pass.
Phantom did as Phantoms do and went invisible and intangible, escaping from Biteys jaws and startling the heros. He ignored the distressed whine Munchy let out after loosing their spookyest chew toy and quickly rubbed the scent gland near dannys jaw on the top of thier head as an act of comfort before bolting.
----
Danny poked at the bite mark on his neck. Screw rabies, he better not get turned into a werewolf. He didn't need that on top of his ghostly crap. Sam seemed fascinated by the mark, after all, it wasn't every day that Danny got a scar, especially one so obvious. Most injuries heal quickly and leave no trace of him ever being injured in the first place which helped a lot in keeping his secret identity.
Luckily Danny hadn't needed to lie to mom and dad. He truthfully told them about some wierdo jumping off of a nearby rooftop and plunging thier teeth into his neck and that two other people had tried to corner him during this. He assured his mom that he had gotten away quickly but was a little shaken by it and his dad praised him for being brave and managing to escape.
That was nice. But he still had to figure out what was up with this bite...and why he felt so compelled to go back to that city.
Back to that hero.
-----
Aka an A/B/O au where in Danny's universe all the Alphas are extinct and the betas followed soon after and the DC universe all the Omegas went extinct and betas followed after . Not like a "they finally went extinct in the 1700s after centuries of thier numbers dwindling" thing and became a myth/fairytale (tho I like that too) but a "this might be the missing link between cave men and modern humans" kinda thing.
Its up to you which bat bit Danny and exactly what that means. I love abo aus without smut cause there's so much potential for chaos and I am very much ace.
2K notes · View notes
puppetmaster13u · 4 months
Text
Prompt 149
Danny is not the ghost king. In fact, he’s never going to be the ghost king. 
However, that doesn’t stop him from getting summoned, which is stressful. First of all, he has school to deal with, second of all, he’s just a lil baby ghost so shouldn’t even be able to be summoned, and three, his new ghost-dad gets a… tiny bit upset. Not at him, but he can only talk him out of destroying a world thanks to some idiot-cults so many times before there’s the temptation to let him do so. 
932 notes · View notes
whoisspence · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
matthew gray gubler in 'newness'
278 notes · View notes
ch1zzie · 2 months
Text
Joolets (and others)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
No more (WHY IS ARTING NOT ARTING)
273 notes · View notes
bunnyreaper · 8 months
Text
john price helping you renovate the house you just bought--he insists on helping you, whenever the two of you aren't deployed. 
(hcs + drabble, f!reader, mild 18+)
he knows the whole thing would go faster if he just invited the lads, but he wants the alone time with you even if he won't admit it. if you offer to ask them along too, he just assures you  that you can handle it between the two of you.)
thrives when you ask for his input on decorating the place, and he loves when you ask him to tag along to stores with you. he makes sure the DIY store guys don't underestimate you, ensures all the bathroom fittings will actually fit, gives you the best opinions on the paints you pick. never corrects any of the store owners when they assume you're a couple.
puts on an extra show when destroying or ripping down things. when you ask him to help you take down one of the false walls, he goes out of his way to let out extra little grunts and groans of effort, and flexes because he knows you're watching (and he hopes you're enjoying the show.) 
takes off his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his neck and face, doesn't bother putting it back on, leaving his hairy chest bare and the room full of the scent of his musk. a part of you secretly wishes he'd forget and leave it behind one day.
he catches you staring and smirking when he tucks a pencil behind his ear and looks like dad, gives you a wink. (and you definitely don't think about what it would be like if he knocked you up, and you were doing this all over again to decorate your kids nursery.)
as things come together, your mind starts to drift to what it would be like to christen even room in the house with john--fucking on the kitchen island, in the garden, by the fireplace, in the bedrooms. 
tries to do everything he can so you don't have to spend over the odds on tradesmen, or deal with strange men in your house, but he decides to leave the electrics alone after he gives himself a mild shock and you almost cry with worry. 
the two of you spend many a late night together, sat on a blanket eating pizza and drinking, with only each other's conversation for company--making memories you both treasure. 
"Probably should've put my shirt back on, I'm absolutely covered." John laughs, taking a glance down at his paint-splattered, sweat-sheened chest. 
Your eyes follow his, feeling like this is an invitation to stare uninhibited for once. The two of you have been painting for a while already, the room is insufferably hot in the summer even with the windows open--hence why John is taunting you with his figure. 
"You look like you've been down the pit." You gesture at the black specks littering his skin, and the smears all over his hands, his jeans, everywhere. John is sheer finesse in everything he does, besides painting and decorating, apparently. "But I'm not complaining about the shirtlessness."
The tension between the two of you has been escalating, and you feel brave enough to flirt just a little. From the smirk on John's face, he clearly doesn't have an issue with it. 
"Is that right?" He raises a brow, pausing his painting to turn to you with a burning, heavy look. 
Under the intensity of his gaze, you try to play it off just a little, because holy shit, he looks like he's going to eat you alive right now. "Every woman's dream, drooling over a shirtless tradie." You shrug, showing a pretense of apathy.
John now sets down his roller, his hands slipping into the back pockets of his jeans as he seems to be proudly displaying himself--his broad shoulders, rounded pecs and sculpted stomach that is the perfect mix of muscle and fat. 
You have to try not to openly drool as your eyes move down his happy trail. "Is that why you asked me to help?" 
"Asked you!?" You gasp, completely taken aback. "John, you insisted!" 
"You shouldn't be doing all this on your own, love." His posture relaxes as his smile turns earnest. 
You can't help but shake your head, thinking about how you could've had Gaz, Soap, and Ghost helping here too. "We could've had an army, literally." 
"Getting by fine just the two of us, aren't we?" 
"I don't know." You take a step forward as you notice a glob of black paint on John's face. "Your beard is covered too, by the way." 
Your hand finds its way to John's face with ease, forgetting any hesitation you should have about getting tactile with the man you have a forbidden attraction to. Instinct causes you to try and swipe the paint away, but your hands are already covered too. 
"Fuck." The paint is smeared over more of him than before--a black handprint on his neck where you'd held him still while you fussed. 
"What?" His forehead wrinkles, and you can feel his eyes on you as you try to make it better, but fail. 
"Made it worse..." You admit.
John only chuckles, his own paint covered hands finding their way to your cheeks, smearing you with matching globs of tar black.
His heated gaze is closer, his eyes flickering to your lips for a brief moment before he leans in and presses his to yours. 
It's searing, but over in a flash, as John's grin turns wicked and you try to continue standing upright. You're not sure if he's more pleased at the kiss, or the fact that his beard has covered you in even more stains of paint.
"Sorry." He mutters, yet he doesn't seem sorry in the slightest. His hands don't leave your face, and he leans in for another peck as he mumbles against your lips. "Only fair, love."
648 notes · View notes