#all the things that sam has never been and can never have

[lady-phasma]

I felt compelled to cite my sources for Armand and Lestat being an item off and on over the years. I’ve been in this fandom too long to get involved in ship wars or to really have an OTP for these crazy-ass vampires. I happen to love Armand and Lestat from the books and think that Assad and Sam make it work so well on screen. I hope we get loads more of them for season 3.

Anne wrote all of her characters as deeply flawed, we can all agree on that, but the nearly fanfiction level of “let’s see what happens when two of my most flawed characters get together” writing she did in TVA is brilliant. Book spoilers below.

Here's a link to a post I made about Lestat's perspective of Armand from TVL. (I have included one quote from TVL below because it's too precious to exclude.)

Lestat spends almost a full page describing how he sees Armand at a ball at the Palais Royal:

Yet never had Nicolas, mortal or immortal, been so alluring. Never had Gabrielle held me so in thrall. Dear God, this is love. This is desire. And all my past amours have been but the shadow of this. - The Vampire Lestat, p. 275

They literally feel the same about each other: instant attraction, love, desire, and so on. And it is powerful.

So powerful that hundreds of years later (in one of my favorite passages from any of her books) Armand is the only person allowed to approach an unconscious Lestat. Not only approach him, but allowed to lay down next to him and cuddle, caress, and console Lestat, to cry onto him.

I looked down on Lestat, who was unchanged, his hair fallen as before, a little over his left eye. His right arm was out, and his fingers curling upwards, and there came from him not the slightest movement, not even a breath from his lungs or a sigh from his pores. I knelt down beside him again. I reached out, and without flinching or hesitating, I brushed his hair back from his face. I could feel the shock in the room. I heard the sighs, the gasps from the others. But Lestat himself didn't stir. Slowly, I brushed his hair more tenderly, and I saw to my own mute shock one of my tears fall right onto his face. It was red yet watery and transparent and it appeared to vanish as it moved down the curve of his cheekbone and into the natural hollow below. I slipped down closer, turning on my side, facing him, my hand still on his hair. I stretched my legs out behind me, and alongside of him, and I lay there, letting my face rest right on his outstretched arm. Again there came the shocked gasps and sighs, and I tried to keep my heart absolutely pure of pride and pure of anything but love. It was not differentiated or defined, this love, but only love, the love I could feel perhaps for one I killed or one I succored, or one whom I passed in the street, or for one whom I knew and valued as much as him. - The Vampire Armand, pp. 368-369 (emphasis is mine)

But the contrasting absolute annoyance Armand has for Lestat is hilarious! He loves him but can barely stand him sometimes (that isn't unusual for Lestat's admirers).

Lestat, not a bad friend to have, and one for whom I would lay down my immortal life, one for whose love and companionship I have ofttimes begged, one whom I find maddening and fascinating and intolerably annoying, one without whom I cannot exist. The Vampire Armand, p. 276

But it's the way he describes things that happen to him that maddens me, the way that he connects one incident to another as though all these random and grisly occurrences were in fact links in some significant chain. They are not. They are capers. And he knows it. But he must make a gutter theatrical out of stubbing his toe. The James Bond of the Vampires, the Sam Spade of his own pages. - The Vampire Armand, p. 288 (emphasis mine)

Though Armand's head on Lestat's arm might be the most beautiful image of the two of them from any of the books, this line gives me chills every time:

"Lestat, my Lestat - for he was never theirs, was he? - my Lestat was crazed and railing as the result of his awful saga […]" - The Vampire Armand, p. 320 (emphasis mine)

Yes, your Lestat.

[shrenvents]

hii can you do some dean smut, maybe he and reader meet in a dive bar or sum?? <3

a/n: sure thing, i hope u like 😉😘

Mind Games

Warnings: Minors dni; Smut, v!penetration (protection used), language, fingering, some fluff, some jealousy

Pairing: Dean Winchester x you

Summary: You and Sam go way back. You and Dean as well, though he has no recollection of it, and for that, you make him pay.

Word Count: 4.1 k

...

The night had been long already when Sam texted you—“Hey, I'm in town. Drinks at Murphy's?”—but you didn’t hesitate to answer yes. It had been quite some time since you’d last seen him, and life had a funny way of pulling people apart after high school, though you and Sam tried to stay in touch here and there.

It hurt when he unexpectedly dropped out of school without explaining why, but thankfully he reconnected down the line, and the rest was history. He was just an easy friend, a good one you could pick up things with even after years of silence.

A dive bar wasn’t exactly your first choice. You preferred places with brighter lighting and cleaner, less sticky floors, without an old jukebox playing songs that were a hit, long before any patrons could remember. But Sam seemed to have a soft spot for them. It suited him, really—the unpretentious atmosphere, the cheap drinks. 

As you stepped past the creaky door, the scent of stale beer and cigarettes hit you like a wave of nostalgia. It reminded you of late nights sneaking into bars with Sam when you were underage, laughing too loud, worrying too little. The memory still made you smile.

You quickly spotted Sam, his broad frame hunched over a small booth in the corner, beer in hand. He looked up, eyes twinkling when he saw you, enthusiastically calling your name. Mid-wave, you froze and your heart skipped a beat after noticing who was sitting across from him —Dean. Sam’s older brother. 

Dean leaned back in his chair, lazily nursing a beer and his signature, cocky smirk as his eyes coasted his surroundings. He looked exactly the same, though his face was a little more rugged, and perhaps a little worn from life.

You’d had a ridiculous crush on Dean back in school. Your best friend's older brother. The guy who could make anyone laugh, who strode around like the world was his oyster. But he never noticed you. Not back then. Dean was too busy sleeping around, charming his way through the female student body, and leaving an abundance of broken hearts in his wake. The few times you were around him, he rarely glanced in your direction. And that was fine. Especially now, since you’ve grown up and moved on…

'Of course he's here,' you thought with an internal roll of your eyes, trying to steel yourself for the sudden rush of old, pitiful memories of unrequited love. You should've guessed he'd be here since Sam told you they'd hit the road together.

With a deep breath, you straightened out your shoulders and paced over, mustering all your strength to fix a calm smile onto your face as you greeted Sam, and his brother, who most likely wouldn’t really know you. "Long time no see," Sam remarked, standing to give you a bear hug, which you immediately returned. “Missed you."

"Missed you too," you replied with a pleased sigh. Your eyes then flickered to Dean for the briefest moment. He hadn’t moved, still reclined in his seat, watching you both with that curious tilt of his head. His silence stretched on long enough that it was clear—he didn’t recognize you.

'Typical,' you thought, and your smile tightened into a thin line as you slid into the booth. Ignoring the way Dean’s gaze dwindled, you decided two could play this game. It might be fun, even.

"Dean, you remember her now, don't you?" Sam asked, oblivious to the tension looming in the air as he gestured to you, hoping the in-person image would jog his memory.

Dean’s brows furrowed, and for a second, you swore you saw something flash behind his forest-coloured eyes. Then, as if he’d decided it wasn’t worth pretending, he shook his head, offering you a half-smile. You dismissed the swarming butterflies in your stomach, realizing this might just be the first time he's truly looked at you. And you’ve seen that look countless times from afar —it was the one he showed to the next girl he'd pick up.

"Sorry," Dean huffed dramatically, feigning disappointment having not remembered you. His voice was a low rumble that made your pulse quicken against your will. "Can’t say I do."

And there it was. Just as you expected. You’d spent countless afternoons back in high school, hanging out with Sam, romanticizing his older brother from the sidelines, praying he’d eventually give you the time of day. But Dean Winchester has always been… Well, Dean Winchester. And he always will be.

You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms with a smirk of your own, mimicking his relaxed demeanour. "Don’t worry about it. It’s been a while." Dean’s eyes narrowed momentarily, like he knew he’d missed something important, but had no clue what. Sam, ever the peacemaker, cut in with a laugh.

“Well, now that that's settled, drinks are on us. Let’s catch up.” Sam pushed a beer towards you and you downed nearly half, already determined to show that tonight, you weren't gonna be that quiet, shy, unnoticeable girl you were in school. If Dean noticed you now, he was in for one hell of a ride…

You and Sam probably spoke for less than an hour, because, unfortunately for Sam, he could barely get a word in with all of Dean's shameless flirting, which you somewhat entertained. Undoubtedly, neglecting him only egged him on more.

Throughout the night, after Sam gave up and wandered elsewhere, drunk and confused, Dean would make bold throwaway comments, steal lingering glances, and release that low chuckle every time you defiantly teased him. At first, it was satisfying—this was the guy you used to dream about noticing you, and now he couldn’t take his eyes off you. But as the hours ticked by, you recalled all too well who Dean really was: a player. A guy who’d probably seen countless women come and go without a second thought. However, now, with him slowly inching towards you, it was becoming increasingly difficult to disregard the urge to go home with him to spare your dignity.

The second the ragged surface of his jeans started grazing your thigh, you excused yourself to get another drink. Strutting over to the bar, you felt his eyes bore into your backside and a shiver racked down your spine. Rather dizzyly, you ordered another drink but were surprised when a tall stranger offered to pay for it. Despite the unwanted attention, with Dean eyeing you both, you selected to make this stranger an outlet for a potential mistake.

So just for show, you leaned in a little too close, laughing at jokes that weren’t funny, ambling with your drink as if you were reluctant to return to Dean. His gaze was burning holes into the man's head the entire time, and you knew this was doing wonders to Dean's inflated ego. 

Then you heard a loud thud behind you, and just as you turned around, Dean was already there, standing close by, staring daggers into the stranger you ironically couldn't remember the name of. Dean then glanced down at you, wordlessly demanding eye contact, and you're rooted to the floor when his hand brazenly brushes across your lower back, to rest comfortably on your hip. "Hey," he smiled as his gaze softened, marking the smooth return of his playboy facade.

"How about we get outta here?" Dean whispered into your ear while his nose skimmed your hair. Subtly taking a deep breath, you seductively beam up at him and note how his grip tightened on your side as if he had to brace himself. "Exactly what I was thinking," you whispered back and Dean's eyes fluttered, and you're so close he likely thinks you're about to kiss, but you have other plans.

"Wanna go?" You asked the man you nearly forgot about, who seems almost as stunned as you sense Dean is. He takes a sharp intake of breath at his rejection, virtually staggering back from you, and the moment his hand lifts from your hot flesh, you slip away and grab the stranger's forearm, swiftly hauling him outside with you, without looking back. As you left, you waved goodbye to Sam. "I'll call you tomorrow," you said with an energetic wink, unable to conceal how giddy you were.

After your dramatic exit, you made it clear to the poor stranger that you had no intention of taking things any further than a walk to your car. But Dean didn’t know that. 

…

The very next day, you made more plans with Sam to make up for yesterday's turn of events, but Dean was relentless. For that whole week in fact. He obviously forced Sam to give him your number, and since then, there have been numerous texts, calls, and unexpected visits. Each time he found you, his approach became more serious, more focused, and still, you’d reject him every time, in a rather absentminded way, which drove him mad. You grew to love the way it made him squirm.

Today was one of those days, at a quiet little bar far from the one you met at, the conversation quickly turned south from the usual banter.

He’d barely sat down before that trademark smirk was back. His green eyes glinted as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table between you, his fingers grazing yours. The touch was subtle, but deliberate—like he was testing the waters. You pulled your hand back just a fraction, enough for him to notice but not enough to discourage him. You were growing unsure of who you were punishing at this point.

"Missed me?" Dean's voice was deep, smooth, and far too confident for someone who’d been chasing you all week and failing miserably. You rolled your eyes playfully and took a sip of your drink. "Don’t flatter yourself. I just wanted to get a quiet drink," you quipped. Dean chuckled, undeterred, shaking his head. "Right, right. That’s why you agreed to meet me here. For a ‘quiet' drink." His voice dripped with mischievous sarcasm, and an undertone of sexual frustration.

You couldn’t help but grin. "Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better." You crossed your legs and kicked out one, lightly touching Dean's, and he tensed. He then closed in, his fingers gently touching the back of your hand, this time pausing just long enough to send a quake up your arm. "You like to keep me guessing, don’t you?" He wet his lips, eyes darting to yours, which were shrivelling up with anticipation.

"Maybe," you admitted with a sheepish grin. "Or maybe I just like taking you down a few pegs." Dean laughed, a deep, throaty sound that sounded a bit like a scoff and sent a rush of heat through you. He didn’t pull away, and the teasing glow in his eyes eased for just a moment as he studied you.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" His voice dropped a notch, and his regard danced across your skin. "Ever since that night at Murphy's… I haven’t stopped thinking about you."

Though your pulse was racing, you shifted away, pretending to be unimpressed. "I'm sure you say that to all the ladies," you taunted with a roll of your eyes. Dean shook his head, his smile fading a little. "This isn't like that."

You raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief. "Oh Please. Not even a little?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I know I didn’t remember you from school. But Sam and I've moved around so much; I never bothered to remember anyone." He winced, as if admitting it aloud stung a little. "Though I have no idea how I don't remember you. I wish I did," he expressed, and he sounded so sincere that you nearly swooned.

"But things are different now. This is different," he proclaimed, eyes wild with a fiery determination. You arched an eyebrow, scooting forward. "So, what’s this been about then?" Though you question Dean, you give him no time to respond, pressing on. "You're just upset that I didn’t fall into your lap like all the others?"

Dean’s eyes were ablaze, and he didn't retract into his seat. If anything, he dipped in closer. "Sorry I hurt your ego," you added, half-sarcastic, half-challenging. He shook his head and his jaw clenched. "Maybe it started out that way," he acknowledged, but his tone held not a trace of his usual humour. "But really, it isn’t like that anymore."

You tilted your head, intrigued by the sincerity in his voice, but confused by his articulation. You’d expected him to laugh it off, throw out a line, but this? This felt… as he said, different. Not to mention the way he was looking at you—like he was seeing you, really seeing you—made your heart skip a beat.

"Oooohhh, okay then," you mocked slowly, drawing out the words. "Tell me, what’s it like Dean?" If you weren't paying such close attention to him, you might have missed how his breath hitched and how his eyes darkened while he inched closer to you. The impish atmosphere between you two had suddenly altered, the circulating tension becoming thick and electric. His hand moved to your thigh under the table, his touch scalding, steady, while his other hand weaved through your fingers.

"It’s like…" He trailed off, his voice a whisper now, his lips brushing your ear. "Every time I see you, I have to resist the urge to…" He paused, cutting himself short as he moved back slightly. His breath was warm on your skin and he peered down at your lips once again, however this time, he appeared vulnerable.

"To what?" You whispered, barely able to get the words out as your heart pounded against your ribs. Dean’s eyes flicked back up to meet yours, his hand tautening on your leg, his thumb slowly rubbing your inner thigh. "To kiss you."

Before you could respond he closed the gap, his lips crashing into yours with a sudden, heated intensity that took your breath away. You melted into the kiss. All the teasing, the banter, the back-and-forth disappeared as you instinctively tangled your fingers into his hair, drawing him in.

Dean groaned softly against your lips, pleased by your instant reaction. His hand moved from yours to cup your cheek, his thumb gently gliding over your flushed skin as the kiss deepened. It was slow at first, then building, and heat swarmed your core when the hand gripping your thigh slid upwards. You felt the pent-up tension you'd been feeling all week, and since the moment you saw him, spill into your actions. He pressed flush against you, leaving no space, and you laid your legs overtop of his lap. His tongue licked your lips surface, grazing your teeth and you gasped, pulling away as much as he allowed.

Breathless and panting, Dean rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "That’s what it’s like," he rasped airily, his voice hoarse. And for the first time, you believed him. Things may really be different.

As you got lost in your thoughts, he began to chant your name with that same smile widening. Both his hands then seized your upper arms, shaking you tenderly as he repeated your name. "Tell me what you're thinking," he more or less pleaded.

"I'm thinking that, if I find out you're lying to get in my pants, I'll kill you," you smirked devilishly, peering up at him through hooded eyes. His eyes morphed into a darker shade of black, turned on by your threat. You giggled, lightly shaking your head. "I can't fake this baby," Dean sweet talks, and you note how his manner seems looser now that he's gotten how he feels off his chest.

He pecks your cheek. "You know, I was pretty hurt when you left with that guy the other night," he huffed like the memory still haunted him. You stifled your laugh. "Uh-huh?" His eyes narrowed at your teasing response, though his smile hardly wavered. "You think that's funny?"

"Yeah," you replied immediately with a shrug. "Especially since I was deliberately messing with you." Dean's brows shot into his forehead, creasing it in utter disbelief and bafflement. "I didn't sleep with him Dean," your tone lowers wantonly, "like I said, I wanted to take you down a few pegs."

His wide eyes crinkled as he erupted with laughter, stammering "touché" in between chuckles. You laughed along, admiring how carefree he was at that moment. When his stream of laughter died out, you gulped at the strange look he suddenly showed. "It's a shame," he stated cryptically. Your face twisted with puzzlement, which made Dean's dreamlike expression grow, apparently in deep contemplation. "What?" You snapped jokingly.

"Oh nothing," he sighed while his palms skated down to your torso, cupping your ribcage as he looked to the distance sadly. You smacked his side which made a snort escape him. "Oh, just... If only you left with me that night," he remarked dolefully, unable to hide that glint of lust-fueled wit. "If only," you reiterated with a strained sound, also unable to hide your looping thoughts, which were clouded by desire. "How about we make that happen?" He kissed your other cheek. His lips lingered there and his breath fanned your skin. "How about it?" You responded airily and Dean laughed at your consistent repetition, clearly trying to push his buttons in a way he's grown to love.

Without another word, he slides out of the booth and gently ushers you out, onto your feet, holding your hand firmly in his. With his spare hand, he drops some cash on the table and pulls you to his hip. He walked you both outside, leading you towards his car and you shuddered at the sight. It reminded you of the countless times he'd pick up Sam from school and you'd watch him from afar. The number of fantasies you had of him and that car made your body surge with a fierce, intoxicating need.

He opened his passenger seat and propped you inside, and you obediently admired his every move until he sat behind the wheel. One glimpse of his profile darting from you to the windscreen pushed you off the edge.

"Fuck," you quickly murmured, catching Dean off guard when you abruptly pounced on him, straddling his thighs. You cupped his dome, tugging on his short locks while his hands shot to your waist, dragging you downwards so he could grind into you. You both moaned into the messy kiss, so close to satisfaction, yet so far. He groaned your name when your lips moved to his neck, desperate to leave a mark. He reluctantly tried to halt your attack, but your need overpowered all logic. "I can't wait," he grunted when he wretched your face from his neck. Dean's head thumped against the seat's leather headrest and his eyes were glossy with a sort of determination.

"Get in the back," is all he ordered before he hastily assisted you onto the backseat. He climbed on top of you after grabbing a condom from the glove compartment, following your mouth eagerly, and pecking it a few times as he laid you down. "God you're sexy," he groaned. He then yanked off his jacket and shirt in two swift motions before that familiar smug expression consumed his features. "You're unbelievable," you scoffed and his smirk grew.

"I get that a lot," he commented jokingly and you smacked his side harder than before, displaying your exasperation. He laughed and you threaded your fingers into his hair again to shut him up. His mouth collided with yours, and his hands frantically removed both of your clothes. He sweared loudly when you bucked your hips up and rub his bulge —now covered by his boxers alone. His deep voice let out a surprising whimper when you did it again, this time using your hands to drag him down, clutching his defined hips.

You then had a sudden craving to admit to him how much you longed for this moment, but you opted for: "fuck me." Dean growled into your ear before kissing you rather harshly as he took himself out of his briefs. He cupped your bare breast, which is still partially hidden by your bra since he was too transfixed elsewhere to remove it completely.

When his cock hit your abdomen and he slid on the condom, you hummed a moan, biting your bottom lip in anticipation. "Jesus," he mumbled under his breath when his tip breached your slit. He smoothly glided inside, as if you were two puzzle pieces melding together. Your heart panged and you gasped, while Dean muttered nonsensically. He reared back to look into your eyes once he bottomed out. When he pulled away, his very breath abandoned his lungs as if his soul was now connected to your lips, and you'd be keeping it with you now and forever. For once, he actually felt like putty in someone's hands, and he didn't hate it. Not when you felt like Heaven, after years of experiencing Hellfire.

Underneath him, you remarked on how it felt to finally be touched by Dean... Addictive. Unhurriedly, he guided both your arms above your head, stretching out your spine, and holding your wrists in place with a single hand. The air stilled and you listened to his rapid heartbeats. The tension was palpable as his mouth descended onto yours —quickly going from slow and passionate, to needy and frenzied. Dean suddenly thrust and you yelped, which made him cease his movements immediately. He attempted to pull away from your mouth but you raised your head to pull him back down, unable to do anything else, not with your arms still hoisted above you. You rolled your hips into him and he released a lengthy grunt of approval, clearly understanding that you wanted him to resume his pounding.

He sped up his thrusting and you could barely hold back your cries, loving his strength and weight caging you in, and taking you roughly. Even though his lower half was aggressive, it was still Dean writhing into you, looking down at you with such tenderness, and kissing you in ways that made you hopelessly expect more. At this point, you'd take whatever he'd give you and thank him for it.

"Don't stop," you nearly shouted when your legs begun to shake. He released an animalistic sound, his strokes becoming increasingly choppy. Dean heaves your name, muttering, "You're some kind of fantasy, you know that?" Before you could respond he captured your lips, moaning into your mouth while his fingers slipped between you two. Suddenly his digits rubbed circles onto your clit and you gasped loudly, whining into his all-consuming kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist and felt Dean smirk, but you couldn’t bring yourself to reprimand him when he makes you reach your climax, which rushes over you like a tidal wave, crashing into shore with a loud sob.

"Fuck," Dean's hips stuttered into you, and his eyes squeezed shut as he came, letting go of your wrists to prop himself up in a plank. He breathed in and out slowly, eyelids eventually fluttering open to witness you already surveying him, entranced by his face when it's full of ecstasy. "That was... Fucking amazing," he panted as he monitored your reddened complexion. You nodded, though you shied away from his gaze, feeling all too vulnerable, afraid that history was repeating itself, and you were already head-over-heels for Dean Winchester.

As your mind wandered into a dark place, Dean's calloused finger pads grabbed your attention when they caressed your jaw, swiping your cheek. "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did," he chuckled airily to himself before continuing, "and give me a chance to do that again—many, many times."

Now it's his turn to seem sheepish and you laugh, partially in shock. "No strings attached?" You arched a brow as you questioned what you were, despite having not gone on an actual date yet. He displayed a genuine smile as he shook his head no. "I'm already tangled up in them," he confessed with a shrug.

Your heart flipped and you fought to remain stoic. You then lifted your index finger above your nose, right in his eye line. "I'm givin' you one chance... To do that, over and over again," you whispered sensually, biting back your shit-eating grin. A giddy, boyish look took over Dean's face and your laughter burst through, making your core clench around him and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"How about we start that 'one chance' right now?" You purred, smirking at the way his eyes playfully narrowed. "Gladly."

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

Ok. So Dani and Damian are around 23-26. You can decide. Fair warning this one’s pretty long

So while Dani was traveling the world, she meet Talia Al Ghul.

They became friends(?) and regularly meet up for coffee and tea and such (Dani is not part of the LOA) (Talia wanted to adopt her but she said no) (Dani knows of the LOA but not of Damian. In my mind a demon heir would be confidential information)

Damian leads the Wayne foundations (as well as the Martha and Thomas Wayne foundations) which involves lot of international travel. With his vigilantism and his job, Bruce forces him to put out applications for a secretary. He’s been moonlighting as the Vulture for a couple of years.

Dani, with her years of traveling in now fluent in multiple languages (one of her obsessions) and decided to attend collage in Star City, moving to Gotham after a degree in international business relations.

She applies at Wayne Enterprises for a job, and gets invited for coffee with Talia via coffee message.

Barbara Gordon intercepted the message and sends Damian and Tim to watch her meeting with a mystery person.

They are slightly confused as to Talia is meeting with a seemingly normal civilian. And thinks this that she must be working with the Leauge (no matter how pretty her laugh was)

Talia, who realizes that if Dani won’t allow her to become her daughter, then daughter-in-law is the next best thing.

He realizes how royally he fucked up when Bruce introduces him to his new secretary, Danielle Jane Masters-Fenton.

So now he’s working with a (presumed) LOA assassin, one who’s (probably) infiltrating the company to get to his family. And Talia is try to set them up for some reason.

However, no one believes him when he tells them of his theory. Not even Bruce, who did the actual interview. (He also thought that she would make a good match for Damian, and bonus points if the rest of the family thinks so as well)

Part of Dani’s jobs description is to accompany her boss on international trips, which can take anywhere from 3 days to a week. And it’s pretty difficult when your boss hates you for some reason but can’t fire you because of his dad. Even harder when you’re forced to become a antihero (Vapor) to clean gothams curses and ghost cults and have an odd relationship with the Vulture

There are so many shenanigans that can happen

- Dani and Damian going on a routine business trip and having it run late, plus with the time zones, they are exhausted and forget to book the hotel room. The take the last available room, which happens to have only one bed. Neither one cares.

- mass Arkham breakout, and Dani retunes to work with a fractured left wrist. She says she got injured in the breakout and when Damian goes to her because he’s concerned suspicious he asks her more about it. Dani panics and tells him it was alright because Vapor was there and saved her (she actually got into a brawl with sulker)

~Vulture immediately seeks out Vapor to find out which rouge Dani her and Dani figures out his identity because Damian was the only one she mentioned anything about Vapor to she panicked okay??

- another trip but Damian doesn’t speak the local language (Dani knows more) and the company’s daughter insults Damian to their face because she assumed neither of them spoke the Language. Dani ripped her a new one, and because of her outright hostility (which has never happen before) Damian doesn’t renew the contracts with the company and instead spends the rest of the trip trying to cheer up Dani’s mood.

- Danny. Sam and Tucker all visit her in Gotham and the everlasting trio all go to an animal rights protest that ends up with them in a brawl. Damian also ends up brawling on their side and the four of them get thrown in the same jail cell while they wait for someone to bail them out. Tim arrives for Damian at the same time Dani arrives for the trio. To spite them, Dani and Tim have a long conversation in front of their cell instead of letting them out. (The group approves of Damian)

- a ghost attacks Dani and Damian on their way to the airport, Dani whips out her ghost busting moves. Damian finally decides to admit to himself that he’s in love after watching her tackle a ghost to the ground and make him beg for mercy (technus should’ve known better that to pick a fighter against her. in Gotham. With her crush boss watching)

- Dani kills the Joker, and a member of Black Masks crew saw her, so Vulture was assigned to be her bodyguard of sorts

- Dani is planning an international gala for the Waynes and is very stressed out. So stressed out, that a week before the gala she realized she didn’t think to accommodate for any rouge attacks and spends the next 3 days in her office. Damian eventually drops her sleep deprived butt home.

- Dan visits Dani in her office

- wingman Jon

- International business meeting hosted at WE. Rouge attakd the meeting and Dani gets injured. Damian sees red

- Waynes go to a masked gala in Wisconsin, hosted by Vlad Masters. Dani and Damian share a dance (while wearing masks) and a ghost ruins the party

- M A K I N G O U T W H I L E D R U N K

- Damian figures out Dani’s identity simply because he realizes they laugh and smile the same

- “Danielle.”

“Yeah?”

“Your birthday is coming up, correct?”

“It is, what about it?”

“What would you like?”

“Damian, you don’t have to get me anything.”

“Tt. Ridiculous. What would you like?”

“Get me a (super rare sword from medieval times)” (she was joking)

“Consider it done.” (He was not)

Eventually Ra’s finds out about Dani and her connection to his grandsons and daughter and decides to kidnap her as blackmail.

[shes4twnksinatrnchct]

Hell of a Show

Jake Kiszka x fem oc

Fifteen years after resigning from Greta Van Fleet, for reasons undisclosed to the public, Coley Payne is asked by her former band members to tell her side of the story.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit language, angst, fluff, first love, drug and alcohol abuse, mental health struggles, character death, familial grief, reference to sexual situations, *explicit sexual situations (smut warnings will be mentioned pertaining to each chapter it occurs in).

Please keep in mind this is a work of fiction and enjoy!

***LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED***

Prologue

2039

His shaky fingers curl around the key in the ignition, freeing it and shutting the car off as the sun glares down on him through the windshield. 

The blonde brick of the quaint house fills him with an anxious dread because of who resides within its walls—and perhaps it wouldn’t be weighing so heavy on his heart if the last time he saw her hadn’t ended the way it did. 

The blacked-out shades of his sunglasses pair perfectly with his blank expression, a heavy breath leaving him as he gets out and shuts the door. 

A familiar brunette is walking back to the front porch from the mailbox, already thumbing through a stack of envelopes and picking one out. 

“She’s not gonna read it.” Collins informs her aunt’s ex-boyfriend, handing the unread letter to him. 

Glancing down at it, he sees it’s from Sam. 

Their last ditch effort to coax Coley back into the limelight has been on the cusp of communicating via carrier pigeon being that she threatened to start blocking phone numbers if anyone else mentioned a word to her about it. 

Josh, Sam, and Danny have all extended invitations and Olive Branches—though the latter has been unnecessary because her leaving wasn’t messy or disrespectful. 

Contrary to popular belief amongst fans, there was no big catastrophe that got Coley kicked out. 

In fact, it would have been easier on Jake if there had been. 

And, now, his only saving grace for showing up unannounced at her house is that he’s the only one who hasn’t tried to contact her. 

“Is she home?” He asks the young woman, Collins stepping onto the front porch. 

“She is.” She flatly tells him. 

“Can you let her know I’m here?”

Collins turns to look at him, briefly. 

The last time Coley and Jake spoke in person was the weekend of Elton John’s 90th birthday celebration she and Collins attended—along with the guys. 

That was two years ago, and though Collins never knew the details of their reunion, she could put two and two together when her aunt  stormed into their hotel room the next morning in nothing but the shirt Jake had worn the night before, ferociously packed her things, and told her niece,“We’re leaving. Now.”

“I don’t know. Are you gonna piss her off again?” Collins quips, furrowing her brows. 

Though she’s only about twenty years older than she was back then, she’s still that smart-mouthed kid that would kick him out of his own bed in the middle of the night to curl up next to her aunt—her and her younger brother, both. 

“That’s the only reason I’ve been placed on this Earth.” He tells her somewhat impatiently. 

She rolls her eyes and steps inside the house, calling out, “Aunt Coley!”

“Yeah?!” He hears her say back.

A box fan is the only sound in the house aside from the low speaking of the TV from the living room while the heat from summer infiltrates the home in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. 

She sweeps her dirty blonde hair off of her neck, pulling it into a clip while following the sound of her niece’s voice and breezing by the narrow table in the hallway that’s stacked with recent months-worth of letters she’s been ignoring from former close friends—along with the phone calls and texts she’d magically forget to return. 

“There’s a man here to see you.” Collins informs her with a lack of enthusiasm. 

“HVAC?” Coley inquires with relief, having been battling the fight of no air conditioning for days, now. 

He feels as if he’s going to faint the closer her steps grow to the front door, his breath growing all the more complicated to keep steady as her voice permeates through the house. 

“Unless your ex-boyfriend started a new career—no.” She replies. 

A smile takes his features hostage at the sound of Coley’s laugh, a sound he’s missed more than he’d been able to put into words for the last fifteen years—instead scrambling to hear it in the joy of other women and hoping that it’d make him as happy, to no avail. 

Coley laughs because she assumes Collins is just bullshitting her, and the stir in Jake’s gut worsens when she abruptly stops upon realize it’s not a joke. 

“What?” 

“He’s outside. He told me to tell you he’s here.” The younger woman shrugs, watching her aunt’s face display a multitude of emotions—settling on one of ornery frustration. 

The door swings open, only leaving a screen door between the two of them. 

Blue eyes go wide, the wind being beat out of her the moment she sees him. 

Immediately, she’s snapping around to make sure Collins hasn’t followed her to be nosy. 

Before Jake can properly explain the reason for his visit, her nostrils are flaring, and she’s hissing out a sharp, “Seriously? They sent you?” while she opens the door and steps onto the porch with her arms crossed.

Irritation leaks from her pores as she stares up at Jake and waits for him to say anything back. 

He’s too focused on the fact that she seemingly appears to look even better than she did the last time they saw one another, aging like fine wine. 

The explanation he planned to present has evaporated from his mind, and the longer he looks at her, the more dumb he feels himself become. 

“Hi,” Is all he can muster, just like the last time he’d been face to face with her despite the fact it was the first time in thirteen years they’d crossed paths. 

Only the lack of conversation last time was easier to blame on the amount of people present, that is until they both got a couple drinks in themselves and slipped from the crowd. 

Now, it’s only the two of them, bright eyed and sober, and Jake can’t manage more than one syllable. 

Coley’s just as disoriented, only she’s better at hiding it, disguising it in anger when she asks, “What the hell are you doing here?”

It’s now that Jake has to regain his balls and composure, clearing his throat. 

“I was in town and thought I’d swing by.” He rubs his nose, not even trying to hide his nervousness with being confronted by her so directly.

“You were in town?” She inquires, raising her brows.

The tone of her voice and bitchy expression on her face melts him out of his passive shyness, his eyes narrowing at her. 

“Yeah.” Jake states, leaving no room for doubt, but Coley finds one reason not to buy his bullshit…

“You were casually in town four hours away from your home?” She flatly asks, next. 

“You’re not gonna invite me inside?” He avoids her question blatantly, a smirk coming to his lips that further stokes at her vexed demeanor. 

“I don’t let strangers in my house.” She’s quick to rebuttal. “Especially when they’re here to harass me on their brother’s behalf because he can’t accept a simple, ‘no’.” 

“You were expecting Josh to accept, ‘no’?” Jake scoffs, a dark brow darting upward over his sunglasses. 

“Being that we’re all at the grown age of forty-three? Yeah, Jake. I did expect him to.” 

Ignoring her strike, he states, “You look good,” while shamelessly eyeing her. “Are you getting shorter?”

“You look tired.” Coley fires back. “You should probably lay off the booze. And the pot. And the road.” 

Her last line has a bite to it that he can admit is somewhat warranted with their past. 

“That was my plan until I had to come down here and make sure you were alive.” Scoffing it out, he glances around the yard—never having seen her house for himself. 

Coley watches him do so, using his distracted disposition to take a moment to appreciate his own good looks. 

He’s still keeping his hair long, and his facial hair thicker, and his skin is still disgustingly wrinkle-free despite the sun he’s soaked in through the years. 

“Well, I’m alive.” She says, her tone rushing him to finish up and leave, but he continues taking his time. “And well.” 

He’s looking down at her again with the last addition to her reassurance. 

“Are you?” 

“Yes.” Coley nods. 

“Hmm.” 

“‘Hmm’? Why are you ‘hmm’ing? What’s there to ‘hmm’?” She demands, next, her eyes narrowing at him as the words topple out of her and her head shakes. 

“I mean, adamantly avoiding your friends is not the actions of someone who’s well.” 

“I’m not avoiding anybody. I’m just avoiding whatever it is Josh and Constance are working on.” Coley informs him, her mouth spitting out the name of their former manager while simultaneously handling his brother’s with care. 

“It’s not just Josh and Connie. All of us are involved—” He informs her, throwing his hand out to gently grasp her arm when she lets out a sarcastic laugh and turns to go back inside as he adds, “—And we don’t feel comfortable speaking for you.” It’s finished out genuinely, Coley glaring at the black screens over his eyes, fighting to see the brown of his irises through them while he forces himself to drop her arm. 

“Then don’t. It’s not anybody’s business what happened. That’s why I’ve gone out of my way not to talk about it publicly.” She reminds him. 

Without explicitly mentioning their last conversation, she once again takes a dig at him. 

It’s the source of such hostility, between years wasted on him and tears cried over him. 

But he can easily blame her for the same sins that she blames him for—which all boil down to simply wanting different things. 

He clenches his jaw briefly as he swallows his pride and starts, “Coley, I was an ass the last time we spoke—” He stops when she pulls his sunglasses from his eyes to make him look her in the eyes upon the realization he’s about to apologize, and he watches as she tosses the shades to the chair sitting close to the door, biting his tongue when she crosses her arms again and peers up at him. “—I can admit that, and I can say, ‘I’m sorry,’ but you’re not completely blameless in all of this either.” 

“And this is why I’m not speaking about this shit.” She argues. “Because you still have it in your head that me leaving the band for  my family was some unforgivable trespass.”

“You leaving the band wasn’t something that needed forgiveness—but it wasn’t just the band you left, was it?” He asks calmly, knowing that he has her pinned, and has always had her pinned with the question that she still refuses to acknowledge fifteen years later. 

“Get back in your car, drive off to Nashville, or whatever interstate you won’t stay off of, and leave me alone.” She says, turning again to open the door but he kicks his boot out to shut it once more. 

“Coley.” He mumbles and she shakes her head and won’t look at him, teary eyes keeping on the door inches from her face. “Look, nobody  sent me here, okay? I just…” He trails off as he tries to put into words what he’s trying to say. “…Kayce called me after Connie reached out to him trying to get in contact with you about it and I got worried.” 

Of course her oldest nephew had turned to Jake after Coley explicitly stated she didn’t want to talk about it. 

Kayce and his little brother Rhett had spent more time trying to convince their aunt to participate in whatever documentary Josh had been cooking up about the band ever since the singer had mentioned it two years prior. 

“He thinks it’s important that you talk about it, because the more you don’t, the more people take it as an opportunity to believe whatever made-up bullshit they’ve created to explain it for themselves. And I agree with him completely. We all do. What’s out there is so far from the truth, and it's not fair to you.”

She doesn’t reply immediately, knowing the point he's making is a good one, having her own various frustrations with the lies being spun around her departure from the group.

They'd all been reading lies for years surrounding why she left the band: imaginary tales of her drug addiction issues, how difficult she had been to work with, and her lack of talent which resulted in dead weight the three instrumentalists had to carry--all of which were completely alleged, only being speculated by people who either had nothing better to do, or begrudged individuals who Coley perhaps wasn't the nicest to for good reason.

She had always kept her mouth shut and just let everyone talk, requesting that her niece and nephews, family, friends, and former bandmates do the same...

And here's her opportunity to speak up for herself, in her own words, with the support and backing of her former bandmates--making her words, their words.

Jake isn't going to grovel with her, not having the energy to at the moment, and relents.

Removing his foot from the door to free her, he steps to grab his sunglasses so he can leave. 

Coley turns to face him while he walks away, and as he's stepping down the stairs of her front porch, he comes to a halt when she finally asks, “How long is all of this going to take?”

1 YEAR LATER

In 2012, rock band Greta Van Fleet was born from the outskirts of Frankenmuth, Michigan.

The original line-would exchange and expand to consist of founder Jacob Kiszka (Lead Guitarist), his brothers: Samuel Kiszka (Bassist), and Joshua Kiszka (Lead Vocalist), as well as Daniel Wagner (Drum Kit), and Coley “C.J.” Payne (Rhythm Guitarist, Backing Vocalist).

In 2024, the established group of five would shift, as Payne would announce her departure from the band.

Neither Greta Van Fleet, nor C.J. Payne made a comment on the matter, initially.

The silence was only broken when C.J. gave her only on-record citing of her split the year to follow.

When asked why she took her final bow with the band, Payne stated: “Our differences were more irreconcilable than artistic.”

Fifteen years later, Greta Van Fleet is disclosing for the first time publicly why her run with them came to an end…

Six scenes are laid out separately, taking place in six separate locations–one at a lakehouse in Michigan, two occurring in Tennessee—East Nashville, and Pigeon Forge—the fourth is a house in California, the fifth an office in Detroit, and, finally, a golf resort in Florida…

CONSTANCE LOBATTI (former manager): I worked closely with the band as they toured from 2017 to 2024. They were great fun to work with and had a very chaotic way about them, but they also tried to be respectful of management so they were easy to get along with. Well…the boys were pretty easy to get along with.

JOSH KISZKA (Vocals, Greta Van Fleet): Where’s my fucking camera? Oh, oh, yes I see now. I need to take these glasses off, anyway—I don’t want to come across too prestigious…is someone bringing me a beverage?

SAMUEL KISZKA (Bass, Greta Van Fleet): …So…we can say anything about each other, and nobody’s gonna sue for defamation? Can we confirm that?

DANIEL WAGNER (Drums, Greta Van Fleet): None of this screams “PR nightmare” at all.

JAKE KISZKA (Lead Guitar, Greta Van Fleet): This is kind of a loaded conversation to be having at 6:12 in the evening, isn’t it?

COLEY PAYNE (Rhythm Guitar, Greta Van Fleet): Whose idea was this, again?

[chiisana-sukima]

Happy Wincest Wednesday!

What's one headcanon (cute, sexy, or otherwise) you have about the brothers and the Impala? Time spent in or on it, or things they've done in it, Sam indulging Dean somehow with it, or (etc)?

Happy Wincest Wednesday-Thursday, Phyn! Thank you so much for the ask. <3

I have so many headcanons about Sam, Dean and the Impala. The main one is that they're both very weirdcesty about it. They don't have a sexual relationship with--or even sexual thoughts about--each other. Obviously! That would be sick and bad, and especially in Dean's case, outright wrong. It would be the polar opposite of protecting and looking out for Sam, so clearly he would *never*.

...But it's hardly Dean's fault, or Sam's, that they've both banged chicks in Baby's back seat. That's just a natural outcome of the Impala being, for all those years, their only real home. And it's hardly his fault he's proud that Sam can pull such gorgeous babes, and that maybe when Sam was in high school and first started dating, Dean helped him out a bit by handing over the keys and telling him the best make out spots and giving him advice on what songs got which kinds of girls in the mood, and maybe even making sure he knew there were always extra condoms in the glove compartment (and although Dean *certainly* never looked in the glove box the next morning to see if Sam had gotten lucky, it's not his fault he has to replenish the supply so he does kinda keep track.) If he sometimes fantasizes just a little about some of Sam's chicks later himself when he's banging one out in the shower--about what they were like for Sam, maybe sweet and faux demure, laying on the worn back seat with their clothes still on but the door open to give Sam room to get his head up under their skirt, or maybe shameless and wild, going down on Sam at the drive in, with Sam still in the driver's seat and the soundtrack to whatever movie of the week was drowning out his cut off moans--well, if he thinks about those things on occasion, that's just because he's a red-blooded American man, and Sam has excellent taste in women.

Usually.

Sam usually has excellent taste in women.

There was the Ruby thing, of course. He knows--knows for certain, though he could never prove it--that when Sam would pocket Baby's keys and sneak out to get his fix while Dean seethed and pretended to sleep, that sometimes he and that demon bitch would bang right there in the Impala's back seat. Baby would stink of sulfur the next day, and Dean would hardly be able to contain his rage. But what was he supposed to say? "Alastair warned me you weren't the pure little Sammy I imagined and you'd get with any demon whore who'd give you what you wanted, so why didn't I come down off the rack and it could be me instead"? Obviously he couldn't say that. He only even thought it sometimes because Hell had fucked him up so bad.

And there was Rachel Nave. That one Dean had assumed was on him--so much so he'd still felt guilty years later and a djinn had made it the reason dream-him and dream-Sam were estranged. But okay, while he shouldn't have stolen Sam's prom date and definitely shouldn't have given in when she insisted she blow him parked behind the school only three days after said prom, it had all worked out fine. Yeah, Sam had been angry one of Rachel's friends saw the whole damn thing, but far from pulling him and Dean apart like maybe it should have, Sam had demanded Dean drive him to school the next day and pull Baby right up front; had paraded Dean around on his arm like--well. Like *Dean* was the prize in the exchange and there was no denying Sam won.

Anyway, that's all in the past now. These days, things between him and Sam are easy. Now when he gets an eyeful of a gorgeous naked babe like that Piper chick in Baby's back seat with Sam, it's just par for the course. She's hot, Sam's, you know, objectively hot too (what're you gonna do, Dean certainly can't help that). So whatever it's all about, maybe it's not exactly normal, and maybe Sam and him are both a little fucked up, but the world has bigger problems. It's only worth dwelling on in a good way.

[angelsdean]

ruthlessly deleting old 2021/2022 posts (not by me) from my dean studies tag like *click* un-incorporating that from my beliefs system! also the way SO many posts have me like ok uh-huh good aaand then say one completely wrong thing that loses me. it's so many posts.

[kyuala]

SOOOOOO hard to go through everyday life trying to ignore the never-ending feeling that im just irreparably fucked up and therefore should just give up on everything

[autumnrory]

this season of ted lasso saying sam should forgive racists who vandalized the restaurant and  then you know, dropping anything to do with that storyline immediately afterwards

and the saying jamie should forgive his abusive father bc hating him apparently isn’t good for him or whatever

doesn’t feel great tbh

[creature-once-removed]

.

[fadran]

Guys I just realized something

I’m reading Return of the King, and have just reached the chapter called “The Tower of Cirith Ungol,” in which Sam makes to rescue his master.

Something notable about this is that Sam has put on the Ring not once, but twice so far - and both times, his experience has been markedly different than Frodo’s.

Firstly, his vision is impaired. Everything he sees is somewhat obscured by a dark fog. It’s unclear whether this is an effect of the Ring entering Mordor, or if that’s just what it does to him specifically; after all, the Ring acts differently for each Wearer.

It’s the second effect that’s really interesting. You see, for some reason, the Ring improves his hearing. In both instances, he can hear orc-chatter from afar, as well as tumbling rocks and the foaming of Shelob. But what’s really wild about this is that the same never happens to Frodo.

Because the Ring reflects the Will and Strengths of the User, I can only assume this means one thing.

The One Ring empowers Samwise Gamgee’s eavesdropping.

[jnece-maharlika]

Amity parkers are feral and insane

-Gothamites.

Somehow, someway, Casper high finds their selves in Gotham.

It could be a field trip or a ghost shoved them in a portal, doesn't matter, they're in Gotham.

As they arrive in Gotham, the Casper teachers decide to turn this into something educational and hire a tour guide from Gotham Academy (or was it Gotham university? I forgot) GA agrees and also Sends some of their students to partner up with the amity parkers as a sort "buddy" and to hopefully teacher em the ways of surviving in Gotham.

To the gothamites, the amity parkers look like children who have never been exposed to crime in their life, never been mugged, never been been kidnapped.

But the truth is, compared to the BS amity is used to, Gothams issues are like kindergarten.

First thing the tour guide hears when she greets Casper high Mr lancer telling them to, "Please don't walk into danger, please don't try and provoke the joker, I know he's a bitch but still. If you find yourself in a tricky situation, do not hesitate to punch yourself to freedom, but ABSOLUTELY NO CRITICAL HITs these are NORMAL people they're not like us or the ghosts, they will not survive. Please do not give phantom problems, He's already failing in class he doesn't need more problems"

Its important to keep in mind that:

amity parkers and ghosts are buddies now.

The Ambient ectoplasm gave them a form of super strength, also making it so that they are able to touch ghost.

They join the ghost brawls everyone in a while and has some wins.

Most, if not all are liminal in a way.

Everyone knows that Danny is phantom but have signed an NDA that says they aren't allowed to tell anyone who isn't a native amity parker who he is.

Things is, The gothamites don't know about this and take it as if Mr lancer and the students are underestimating Gotham. So as a from of pettiness, all the Gotham students decided to bring their amity partner to the most dangerous places they can think of.

Niky has lead sam into a park that poison ivy frequents. Of course, poison ivy is there but instead of running away in fear like niky expected, Sam runs up to ivy, complements her and joins the path of eco terrorism.

Tucker and his partner Vic finds himself in the middle of a riddler attack, locked in a room with no way out, a countdown timer with 20 secs remaining and a riddle in a computer.

Vic is panicking as he tries to figure it out, he looked to tucker for help. Tucker just shrugged and hacked the computer, not even bothering to solve the riddle. It worked and Vic is baffled and the riddler is frustrated.

Danny find himself in the hands of the joker, (his partner ran the moment joker was seen) hanging upside down on top of a large pool of acid, because, it's classic for joker. He is also being live streamed.

The teachers in GA are panicking, the bats are panicking.

Casper high teacher took one look at the stream and shrugged. "Eh, he'll be fine." They also called the number that joker has displayed on the screen, just to say, "Daniel Fenton, make sure your back before in GA 6 pm or else were leaving you to find the hotel on your own."

The time is 5:30 pm.

It takes 25 minutes to walk from Joker to GA.

Danny sighs, might as well start walking.

He uses intangibility to free himself and fall into the vat of acid.

The Gothamites are shocked and screaming, the bats are shocked. Amity parkes went "oh" and continued placing bets on how fast Danny will get back.

Danny then proceeds to swim out of the acid pool, punch the joker in the face, knocking him out in a single hit and then proceeds to casually squeeze out the acid from his Casper high "I am a proud amitian" shirt as if it's regular water.

All of this was done in 5 minutes.

All of this was caught on stream.

The Gothamites are passed out, the bats are questioning everything. Batman is searching up everything he can about acid side effects and about Danny but ends up with nothing.

The amity parkers just raised their bets even further.

Danny somehow makes it back 10 minutes late and Wes wins the bet.

[lunamugetsu]

Danny is a house husband.

That's it, that's all it is.

As the years went on. Danny retired from being a superhero. There was no need for Phantom when the GIW were dealt with and all the ghosts were under control.

Now what's left for him to do but to just sit back, relax, and finally be able to live his life.

Sam and Tucker on the other hand....

Well, they had plenty of pent up rage, wits, and chaos inside their mind to become villains.

But they had one rule.

Never bring work home and to never involve Danny in any of their supervillain business.

Okay that's technically two rules, but they're kind of synonymous especially since Danny has been taking care of their house while also entertaining himself with trying new hobbies.

Tucker and Sam both make sure that they never bring any of their villainy home to Danny, because all they want is for Danny to enjoy his happy hero retirement.

And Danny in turn, doesn't bat an eye when watching the news and seeing that there were magical plants that were attacking sites that oil companies were digging or that somehow Lex Luthor had lost five hundred million dollars and had somehow leaked records showing he was building weapons of mass destruction.

He also doesn't bat an eye when he sees that Tucker had brought home a telescope that definitely looks like it came from some fancy lab because hey, Tucker was making him an observatory so he can look at the stars and planets. While also how they were able to make a great gaming pc with computer parts that are definitely not sold in stores, because hey at least the newest update of Doomed wasn't lagging.

Or that Sam comes home with various plants and animals that are definitely not from planet earth, but hey the three headed wolf-lizard-eagle- hybrid thing (that Danny has affectionately named Fluffy) is pretty great at keeping the pests away from his vegetable garden and likes to eat any of Danny's new food creations and is a great playmate for Cujo.

So you can imagine how the Justice League thinks when dealing with the pair of new villains: Upload (Tucker) and Sam (I could not think of a villain name that would suit her, so it's up to you what you think her villain name would be)

And how they were currently wreaking havoc in the city either by cyber warfare with robots or by magic plant monster or a Frankenstein of both approaches. The heroes had all evacuated the civilians from the battle zone and are currently fighting a losing battle. When they've been effectively captured and restrained by the two. Right before the villains could go into a monologue, they hear a person clearing their throat.

Everybody looks to see a 25 year old man wearing a sweater vest (he made it himself, thank you very much) currently holding onto the leash of a giant glowing green dog and some kind of giant animal hybrid. The man's arms were crossed and was currently not sporting a very happy look on his face.

Tucker and Sam (looking at Danny with hesitant smiles): Hi honey.

Danny (frowning): you missed our anniversary dinner.

Tucker and Sam both pale as they quickly realized what the date and time was.

The league all watch as Sam and Tucker immediately start apologizing to the man that just walked into a battle zone.

Danny (still frowning): Hmph! I guess since you two didn't want dinner you can go back to your little fight. Don't expect me to make you any lunches for the next month, and since you two are having so much fun here, you'll be sleeping by yourselves for the next couple weeks.

The league all watch as they were let go as Sam and Tucker yell as they run after Danny yelling apologies as he was walking away from them.

This is not the last they see of Danny.

When Danny is displeased with either of his partners, he'll invite a hero over to have lunch of afternoon tea.

[evilminji]

Been Watching Weird Fruit Explorer(?)... and I just...

W-Who let Bored Danny have BooTube?

Sorry, YOU-Tube. He has TWO Apps now. BooTube is bigger. Way more random, yet... somehow more niche? Meh. It's what happens when you get billions of billions of people who all have their own Obsessions to rant over, on a site.

Ember's channel is pretty lit, tho, ngl.

He stopped using YOU-Tube almost overnight. Too many ads, weird algorithmic pushiness. No thanks. It was too small and too "trying to take my money". You know?

Buuuuut? See.... TUCKER is the Tech guy.

Coding and that sort of stuff. HE does hands on work. You want a toaster? He can MAKE you a toaster! With LAZERS! Runs off The Goo! But a program? Eeeeeeeh? Hit it with hammer maybe? Monkey make fire? Hit with stick? Blergh.

Yeah, he can SORTA push through.

But he suuuucks.

And like... he had a headache, okay? His project had just, quiet literally, exploded in his face. So when he looked at his phone? All the apps were blobs. He clicked the one that LOOKED kinda right. Shoved his arm in his phone and brute forced a channel set up.

He figured he could ramble about Space!

It's not like he cared is anyone LISTENS or not! It's a "for him" thing, you know? Like a diary. But more... putting on a ☆~show~☆?

So he rambles from the floor of his Lair's Lab, crashs and wails in the distance, green sky occasionally visible as he lazily floats by windows. Dropping... juuuust past human knowledge understanding of Space. Talking like he's STUDYING somewhere. Referencing PAPERS no human will ever be able to find.

But a few they WILL.

Some of which, are currently? Only half written.

But then? Oh YEAH... he should eat! You know... Sam keeps bringing him fruits and veggies and stuff from her internship at that Botanical Lair. Stuff never seen before of Earth. Or hasn't been seen in centuries.

Again, like, a FEW that? Randomly? Have???

He picks up something sharply purple, bright orange insides. Crisp crunch. He makes a face. And starts to ramble about it, distracted from Space. "Weirdly mushroom-y" he notes. "Kinda bubblegum sweet? But like... CHEAP bubblegum. Like it hits you all at once and is kinda chemically. But it disappears real fast? Huh. Spicy too..."

It's the first video on the Playlist. One of hundreds. Two of the green Lanterns RECONIZE that fruit ad HIGHLY toxic to humans, can't recognize what planet they're seeing. Or how this alien teen got himself on YouTube.

He seems... unaware of how incredibly famous he's become.

But his strange techno Pharoah friend has not. HE is both perfectly aware and apparently amused. Has taken to feeding him rare and hazardous flora and fauna, to see if it tastes good.

....there have been an alarming number of plants from dead planets.

And the comments the kid makes? Alarming as hell.

Sam's just pleased everybody's getting their greens. Danny's glad him n tuck get to hang and do "try weird foods and fuck around, bro time". They've made lazers! Talked about stuff! Debated why Martian Manhunter is THE superior Justice League member.

Danny understands. Wonder Woman is a BAMF. But he's biased, Tucker. He doesn't CARE if she has a sword and flowy, impressive locks! Shape-shifting telepath! From MARS!!! *imaginary mic drop*

And Tucker? Is conquering the YouTube scene with this charming, weird, relatable young alien. Who rambles about Space, debates nerd stuff, eats weird plants and describes them, and makes sci-fi technology! Theme? WHAT THEME? Phantom is a weird channel, man. You never know what you'll find!

And no one can get rid of it.

Believe them, governments have TRIED. Censorship? Not possible. Not without removing the whole SITE.

[buckyalpine]

I need a feral and unhinged, touch starved Bucky to ruin me.

He’s selfish in giving and taking.

He's gone years without touching his cock, no orgasm, no relief, nothing. Any experience he has had has been long forgotten. The man loves getting his cock sucked. There’s something so filthy about the way he goes feral for it, torn between throwing his head back in pleasure and watching his cock disappear into your mouth.

He used to be such a gentleman but he can’t anymore.

He's a fucking menace because he loves how dirty it is, having his dick in your mouth of all places, letting you slobber and drool all over his length, getting his balls wet in the process.

He doesn't give a fuck who hears either, letting anyone and everyone know his cock is in your mouth, that he's getting the best head of his life.

"Fuck, suck me princess, just-yeah just like that, sucking my cock so good babydoll, makin' me so hard"

You let out a muffled whine in response, still on your knees, tears streaking down your face while he holds your face, his thumbs swiping your wet cheeks. He bites his lip while thrusting his hips forward, pushing his length down your throat. You claw at his thighs, gagging and he lets out a delicious moan seeing your arousal starting to drip with how turned on you are.

"You're makin' me feel so good sugar, you know that? Y'have any idea how good my dick feels right now, how much cum there is in my balls?" He takes a a hand off his thigh and makes you cup his heavy sack, guiding you to squeeze him while you suck, the combined feeling making his eyes roll back.

"C'mon princess, suck my balls next, never had them sucked before-oh fuck-yeah-just like that baby shit-oh fuck feels so good-" His abs tense as he moans loudly again, jerking himself while you move to lap and suck at his sack, precum dribbling down, making a mess everywhere.

He might as well be addicted to the feeling. On more than one occasion, he's missed morning training because you decided to wake him up with head and he loses himself to you, not giving a shit who is waiting for him at the door.

He hears the knocks, hears them calling for him and he'll let them know what's keeping him so busy.

"Buck, you coming-?"

"Oh Fuck yes! Suck my cock, yes, yes, yes, gonna cum, drink it up baby, c'mon, swallow, fuck yes, m'gonna cum again-don't stop princess"

"Well...technically he's coming" Sam snorted, hearing every filthy word the super soldier spewed out while Steve bit back a smirk, "I think your best friend is busy"

Steve couldn't help the proud smile that made it's way onto his face, shaking his head, quickly walking away before round two started.

Tony occasionally goes as far as cheering outside of Bucky's bedroom, especially when the steady thump of the headboard banging against the wall can be heard from downstairs.

No point hiding anything from Tony, especially when he's the one who had to install the xl mirror in the bedroom Bucky requested and god knows he didn't ask for it because he's into fashion.

He's gonna put you in positions that are unholy as it gets. He wants to watch every detail. He's gonna throw your legs all the way back till your knees hit the bed. He wants to watch his cock stretch you open. He's gonna experimentally flick that little button between your legs, using it as his own personal play toy, rubbing and pinching it to his delight just to hear you squeal.

“That’s-that’s your spot, huh princess-take my fat cock baby, doin' so good, moaning for me" He growls, watching he way you take his cock. His favorite thing to do is lock eyes with you in the mirror while your on your hands and knees watching you watch him while he fucks your brains out. Your breasts bounce with each thrust and he doesn't know what he loves to watch more. God forbid your eyes roll back, he spanks you till you focus again.

"Look at me when you take my cock baby, look at how pretty you are when you're all stretched open"

"Sargent-I-fuck-can't-

"Yeah, can't even speak huh, that how good your pussy feels baby? You wanna cum? Want me to make you cum?"

"Please!" You wail and he grabs your hair and pulls you till your back is flush against his chest. He forces your thighs apart as wide as they'll go before grabbing his phone and positioning it under, getting a perfect video of his cock pumping you full of cum while his fingers reach around to rub your swollen button.

"Go on and cum baby, cum with me, together, make your Sargent proud princess, make me dick feel good, fuck, gonna fill you till it spills out, mother fucker-FUCKK" He moans loudly with you, letting your convulsing pussy milk him dry, his veins throbbing as he shoots ropes of cum into you. The end of the video is blurry after all his cum drips onto the screen but it makes it so much filthier.

He's going to record all of this along with taking pictures, always getting you to spread your legs for him, laying on his bed after he's poured load after load into you. I want him to be the dirtiest fuck, looking at all the pictures and videos he's taken, jerking himself off afterwards when you're away for a mission. He can't have you but he's gonna take what he can get. He loves how you moan and scream, how cock drunk you get. A part of him almost feels like a pervert, tugging at his dick like a horny teenager but he can't keep his hands off when he thinks of you.

He's fucking feral even when he jerks off. Legs spread wide apart, no clothes on, back arched off the bed, fucking his hips up into his fist. He doesn't care if you walk in anymore. He was shy at first but now he just smirks while continuing to lazily touch himself, using his own spend to palm himself, the other arm propped behind his head. He knows you love the sight, planting his feet onto the bed to give you a better view while you take your clothes off-

Anyway, my bad, this was sitting in the drafts for long enough, you can go about your day now.

[eternity-death]

Penacony Reactions to you spanking them

No TW’s I think. Just sillies being silly. Established relationship with Reader in all these hc’s.

—————

Hanabi

Head snaps 180° at you and you scream.

She’s traumatized you and now you will never do it again.

This doesn’t stop her from getting you back, though. And she’ll do it in public to make it worse. It’s not a one-and-done deal either, it becomes a regular thing.

You’ve just sentenced yourself to a life of sore-booty and humiliation. Was it really worth it?

Black Swan

Stares at you.

Her expression is a little hard to read and the longer she looks at you the more you feel implored to apologize.

She’s not mad though, she’s actually rather amused. And she’s getting even more entertainment by watching you squirm.

Eventually she gives and just chuckles. If you’ll allow her, then she’ll give you a nice tap on the butt too.

Sampo

He does that one goofy (Mickey mouse) scream.

Very animated reaction. Jumps 10 feet off the ground and covers his behind. He looks back at you like a kicked puppy but you know it’s all fake.

Sniffles and says smthn like, “How could you do this to your best bud, Sampo?”

Gets you back when you least expect it. Like you actually scream bloody murder because your guard is down and you can’t hear him sneak up on you bc he’s light on his feet. It doesn’t matter if you’re in public either. Be very afraid.

Aventurine

“Woah! Getting a little frisky, eh?”

If you’ve got something separating you two like a chair or a counter, he will chase you around it to reach you. Spanks you back, harder, with zero hesitation.

He starts tapping your butt as a regular thing afterwards. Almost like a greeting.

“Hey babe.” Then a light slap. When he feels extra mischievous he’ll grab it.

Acheron

You are unable to slap her booty because she catches your hand before it makes contact.

Just kind of looks at you and goes, “What are you doing.”

You explain to her that spanking is a sort of gesture between close companions. She doesn’t quite get it but decides to just go with it.

Later on, when she greets you, she strikes her hand down on your behind so hard that your teeth clatter. She asks if she did it right with such a hopeful tone, that you can’t find it in yourself to tell her that shattering someone’s pelvis is not part of the gesture. (When she does find out that she’s hurt you she apologizes deeply and coddles you)

Dr. Ratio

Lets out a high pitched yelp.

Gives you the most scandalized look and defensively rubs his tush.

“Did you really just do what I think you did?”

Strategizes a way to get you back. He has a blackboard with physics equations for the perfect angle and fall of his hand, pinned papers and calendars with your schedule and his, etc. He’s terrible at hiding his intentions too. When the time comes for his revenge you already anticipate it. What you didn’t anticipate was how strong he was. You guess those biceps aren’t just for show.

Firefly

Why would you ever? What kind of monster are you?

She yelps and just stares at you; hands covering her behind, face flushed, and her mouth agape.

Apologize.

Sam

You have a death wish.

Another one who catches your hand before you can spank. He just puts your hand back in your lap and goes, “No.”

He actually just doesn’t want you to hurt yourself. His… butt… isn’t very soft, you see.

If you want him to, he’ll lightly tap yours back.

March 7nth

Gasps and launches herself at you with full intention of getting you back.

It turns into a chase, where you run in circles around the gazebo until she gets too tired and gives up.

You laugh about it but later forget. Little do you know, March has been scheming ever since.

“AHA!” You feel a harsh slap against your behind and yelp. The vendor you were talking to looks at you and your girlfriend as if you’ve both grown an extra head. She laughs victoriously, “See? I told you payback was coming!”

Robin

“Oh!!!” Gasps and covers herself. She’s a little freaked out at first but once she see’s it’s you she giggles.

You don’t really expect her to spank you back but she does. With the same amount of force that you used.

It kinda escalates into a competition where you two see who can land the most spanks in one day. Just don’t do it in front of her brother.

You’re losing btw.

Sunday

Do NOT spank him in public. He will be very crossed with you. Not funny did not laugh.

You may proceed with the spank if you are in private though.

He actually squeaks when you do. Then once the initial shock wears off he laughs, incredibly amused by you. Doesn’t say it but he plans on returning the favor.

When he does get you back you don’t expect it. You’re probably cooking or marking off the calendar when he passes you and goes, “Good morning, my love.” And then he slaps your butt. Moderate strength, enough to make you yelp but not enough to sting.

[spicysourchimken]

Interesting reunions

Tim and Danny are twins, Danny was given up for adoption by the Drakes when he was a baby and Tim was never told he has a brother.

After a reveal gone bad, Danny, Jazz, Sam and Tucker became thieves after closing the portal. They mainly target supernatural or cursed items. Their target, a necklace, is being held in a museum with their in being a private event to show off the piece before it's sent back to its owner.

The heist would've gone well if Tim hadn't also been in attendance.

------

'Lmao and here I thought you didn't want to be here'

It was a text from Dick.

Not exactly the strangest thing to happen when Tim was forced to attend an event.

He'd been benched after a mission resulted in a minor concussion. He'd personally been planning on going over his paperwork for Wayne Enterprises, but apparently that wasn't 'rest', instead he was sent off to be bored out of his mind at some art function. He didn't have time to prepare notes or even do any real research. But he still had Dick who had apparently been dragged along as his babysitter (And was fortunately interested in the items on display)

They'd been texting throughout the night. Dick fed him enough information to be mildly interested in topics of conversation, and when that failed the strange history of the main display. An old necklace that supposedly was connected to a string of deaths and all around misfortune.

So no, the text wasn't strange, but what was, was the photo attached. It was a picture of a man, grinning and chatting amicably with a woman whom he could barely make out as the collection's curator. His hair was longer than Tim's, tied neatly back to be clear of his glasses and to give clear view of the man's face.

Tim's face.

There was a clone at the event.

'can u get me another pic?'

Tim was now significantly more interested. Tim could identify the room they were in, housing the main display and it was about two rooms over from where he was currently hiding out. He could get there easily enough.

Dick sent him a thumbs up before replying with another, distinctly more uncomfortable photo of the man. He smiled awkwardly and Tim could finally get a better look at his face. Tim's brows scrunched together. A lichtenburg scar stretched up from beneath his collar and trailed along his jaw and in the light the man's eyes almost looked green.

He ran the photo through his facial recognition software, getting at least a few pings on himself before finally landing on Jonas Spencer, private security currently assigned to shadow one Morgan Deveraux. His history was solid, highschool records, even a spotty criminal history (points where he'd almost been arrested for bar fights) before he'd joined up with his firm.

So. not a clone. Probably.

Tim would still need to check it out. He pushed past a dark haired woman and entered the main show room. Dick, luckily had kept him in conversation but Jonas looked flighty, his eyes always drifting back to his charge.

Then he caught sight of Tim.

He froze. Staring at Tim for a moment before he tapped his ear- and what Tim assumed to be a comm. He made a move for Morgan, leaving Dick in the dust.

The lights flickered. Jonas reached for Megan, his hand wrapping around hers. Tim could've sworn his eyes darted upwards. Then there was a complete blackout. There was a clatter as a vent grate fell to the floor, shouts arose from the attendees.

Then the lights flickered back to life.

Jonas and Morgan had vanished, and so did the necklace as well as three other paintings.

Good news, its not a clone. Bad news, he might have a twin brother who is in a gang of thieves.

--

Daniel Fenton, or as his ID currently stated 'Jonas Spencer', wouldn't exactly call himself a thief- personally he was more of a collector. Or a curator, whatever the hell you might call a guy who grabs haunted and or cursed objects and dumps them in an alternate dimension.

And it wasn't exactly like he was normally the one stealing things either! That was mostly Sam, he'd done for a bit when they'd first started up (pushing his hands through the glass and taking a necklace with him, or making a painting completely invisible as he whisked it away) but then Sam started calling it 'cheating' and claimed 'his technique was lacking' and promptly took over his position.

(He didn't exactly mind, using his powers too often made his skin crawl. He may not have the GIW constantly hunting him, but he'd had enough run ins to make him sweat. He also didn't want to think about his parents.)

So maybe their entire deal wasn't completely altruistic. When you've been on the run since seventeen and had decided that you, your best friends and your older sister are going to become international thieves, sometimes you have to steal things so that you can have an income. And sometimes stealing is fun.

Unluckily their current job wasn't recreational. They'd heard word of a haunted necklace, there was a string of bad luck connected to it. Mirrors shattering, injuries popping up only days after interacting with the piece, lights falling out from the ceiling. There'd also been a case of near death.

Very clearly the latest display piece was cursed meaning they needed to grab it before it was shipped back into it private collection in France. That meant a time crunch, meaning they wouldn't be fully prepared. It was fine- they'd stolen the dagger of Amon Ra when they had half a day to plan, so three should've been fine.

He and Jazz manned the floor, Jazz kept to grifting while Danny worked as support if things went sideways on any front. Jazz, currently wealthy socialite 'Morgan Devereaux', draped an arm around a politician as he guided her through the collection. Jazz shot him a glance telling him to stay back, keep monitoring the main floor with the necklace.

That was fine. He could do that. He approached the curator and complimented the piece, letting her tell him about the struggles she had getting it overseas let alone her conversations with the owner. Ok, so definitely cursed.

Danny felt eyes on his back, and from the corner of his eye he saw someone take a photo. Tall, dark hair and a bright smile.

Sam pointed out that it was a Wayne.

At that point Danny made an attempt to leave, if he was going to get into a fight we wasn't going to do it there. He'd be too close to the necklace for Sam to get in and grab it without attention being drawn to her too. But Grayson cornered him impressively fast. He asked Danny for a photo, claiming that he looked just like his brother. Danny relented.

Then Tucker chimed in that someone had ran his face. Fuck. Dick kept him in conversation but Danny was eyeing their escape roots. Sam warned that another was coming through the left entrance and that she'd already lifted his phone. Danny turned, preparing himself for confrontation.

Then Danny saw him, his doppelganger.

Grayson hadn't been lying. That thought was terrifying.

Danny sent two taps into his earpiece and made his way towards Jazz. They couldn't risk staying any longer. Danny didn't know if they'd been made or not but he wasn't taking chances. He nodded to Sam who went for the jewels as Tucker cut the lights. Jazz and Danny took a painting each.

Sam went for the vents and Danny and Jazz disappeared through the front door.