#bad humor ship

[demonic0angel]

one of the trying to be the voice of reason and talking down Danny or Dan to deescalate a situation

Bat's thoughts: just keep calm, you're in the position of authority while in costume

Danny or Dan just rips off shirt: Talk's over, let's throw down

Bat: Oh no he's hot!

(The only person I can imagine doing this is Dan lmao)

Nightwing didn't know whether or not to shamelessly ogle at the abs and pecs he saw or to get down on his knees and beg Wraith to put his shirt back on.

"Well? Didn't you say you wanted to spar?" Wraith snapped.

Nightwing nearly cried.

"Please put a shirt on," he whispered desperately.

"What?" Wraith put his hands on his hips, his eyes narrowed. The glow of his flaming hair made the shine of his skin even more noticeable.

His biceps flexed with his movements and Nightwing blurted out, "Actually, this is fine."

Wraith frowned. "Are we fighting or not?"

"Can I say no? Or let's switch locations... maybe somewhere more—" Nightwing choked on his own saliva, turning red.

Wraith stared at the coughing hero across from him and then slowly looked to the side, where Phantom was standing with his arms crossed and his face set in a dark scowl. He looked as though he was ready to start pummeling him.

"... is this a hero thing that I forgot from the future or is he just weird?" Wraith asked.

".... it's just him," Phantom said, almost a growl as he glared daggers at Nightwing.

Even if Wraith was his least favorite sibling/alternate self/person, like hell he would let some random hero make eyes at him!

[pinklotushere]

Perfect Disaster

Dick loved Jazz. He really did. She was incredible—strong, smart, funny, and probably the only person on Earth who could keep up with him in a spar without wanting to throttle him. She got his jokes, finished his sentences, and punched him in the arm whenever he got too smug.

They were supposed to be perfect for each other.

So why was he in love with Dan?

Why had his wedding day been filled with flashes of ice-blue eyes and a voice that always sounded just a little too unimpressed?

Why did his stomach drop every time he thought about Dan looking at him with something almost like affection, only to turn away like it had never been there?

It was driving him insane.

And Jazz—God, poor Jazz. She was so good, so devoted, so present, and Dick? Dick was the worst husband alive.

He’d caught himself zoning out during dinner last week, staring at his fork like it was the most interesting thing in the world, because Jazz had mentioned something in passing, and his brain had gone straight to how Dan would never say something like that. Dan doesn’t talk that much. Dan doesn’t talk at all unless he had to.

Jazz deserved better. She deserved someone who wasn’t actively fantasizing about her brother at the worst possible moments.

And worst of all?

She had no idea.

He was a such horrible person

Jazz was losing her mind.

She was in love with her husband. She knew she was. Dick was amazing—bright and loud and brilliant, always moving, always there. He made her laugh, he made her feel seen, he made life fun.

So why was Jason the one she thought about late at night?

Why was it his voice that echoed in her head when she had a bad day? Why did she find herself catching her breath when he smiled, when he laughed, when he looked at her like she was something worth knowing?

It was awful. It was disgusting. It was—

It was fine. She’d bury it. She’d ignore it.

Dick loved her. She loved Dick. Everything was fine.

Except…

Except Dick had been distracted lately. Not in the normal “up all night on patrol” way. No, this was different.

He was off.

He’d started spacing out in the middle of conversations, looking guilty when she caught him. He’d smile too wide, laugh too loud, cover up whatever he was thinking with that performance of his, but Jazz knew him too well.

Something was wrong.

She wanted to ask, but she didn’t. Because if she asked, maybe he’d ask back. Maybe he’d say why are you acting weird too? Why do you freeze when Jason calls? Why do you look at him like—

No. No, she wasn’t going to think about that.

Everything was fine.

Things got worse.

Dick started overcompensating.

Big romantic gestures, flowers, expensive dinners, soft kisses on her forehead, murmured I love yous like he was trying to convince himself they were real.

Jazz responded in kind.

Lingering touches, doting smiles, playing the role of the perfect wife because God help her, she was going to make this work.

And in their desperate attempts to fix a problem neither of them had named, they didn’t notice what was happening right in front of them.

Didn’t notice the way Dick’s eyes always strayed when Dan was in the room, how his voice softened just slightly when they spoke.

Didn’t notice the way Jazz’s breath hitched when Jason laughed, how she leaned in just a little too much when he talked to her.

Didn’t notice that they were both drowning, clinging to each other in a sinking ship, hoping that if they just held on tight enough, they wouldn’t go under.

And it was only a matter of time before the whole thing collapsed.

It all came crashing down over brunch.

Dick had been jittery all morning, bouncing his leg under the table, stirring his coffee five times before taking a sip. Jazz had been the same, shoveling food into her mouth like it might stop her from blurting out something catastrophic.

They were a mess. A mutual, collective disaster.

And then—

"Jazz, I—"

"Dick, I—"

They both stopped, blinking at each other. Jazz swallowed, setting her fork down.

"You first," she said, voice tight.

Dick inhaled sharply. This was it. This was the moment he ruined everything.

"I'm—" He scrubbed a hand through his hair, bracing himself for impact. "I'm in love with someone else."

Silence.

A long, heavy, horrifying silence.

And then—

"Oh thank God," Jazz blurted out, nearly knocking her coffee over.

Dick blinked. "What?"

"I'm in love with someone else too," she said, her shoulders sagging like someone had finally lifted a hundred-pound weight off her back. "Oh my God, Dick, I thought I was the worst person alive, I was so scared to tell you—"

"You were scared?" Dick let out a laugh, giddy with relief. "Jazz, I have been dying inside for months. I was ready to take this to my grave!"

"Me too! I literally almost repressed myself into a coma!"

"Jesus Christ," Dick groaned, pressing his forehead to the table. "I thought I was going to break your heart."

"I thought I was going to break yours!"

They both sat there, laughing, light-headed, free.

A moment passed before Jazz smirked, leaning forward. "So. Who is it?"

Dick hesitated. And then, because there was no point in lying anymore—

"Dan."

Jazz's smirk vanished. Her eyes widened. "Wait—my Dan?"

"Uh." Dick winced. "Yeah?"

She blinked. Then blinked again. Then—

"Oh my God."

"What?"

"Oh my God, how could we not see it before?" she muttered, rubbing her temples.

Dick frowned. "Wait. See what? What does that mean?"

Jazz took a deep breath, and then—

"I'm in love with Jason."

It took a second for that to register.

Then—

"MY Jason?!"

Jazz shrugged, unapologetic. "Apparently."

Dick gawked at her. "No way."

"Yes Way."

"Oh my God."

"Right?!"

For a long, long moment, they just stared at each other.

And then—

They started laughing.

Deep, gut-wrenching, gasping-for-air laughing. The kind that hurt. The kind that felt like they were unraveling years of tension in one go.

"How did we not notice?" Jazz wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes.

"I have no idea!" Dick gasped. "I was so busy feeling guilty, I didn’t even think to ask why you kept getting all weird around Jason!"

"And I was so caught up in my own disaster," Jazz snorted, "I didn’t even see you staring at Dan like he personally invented the concept of breathing!"

They both dissolved into laughter again, until finally, finally, the weight of the past few months lifted completely.

Jazz leaned back in her chair, still chuckling. "So. What do we do now?"

Dick hummed, stretching his arms behind his head. "Well. We could get a divorce."

"Obviously."

"And then we could—y'know. Maybe—try something else?"

Jazz smirked. "Are you asking me if we should ask each other's brothers out?"

Dick grinned. "I mean. I feel like we kinda have to at this point."

Jazz snorted. "God, we are such disasters."

"Yeah," Dick agreed, still grinning.

They clinked their coffee mugs together like it was a toast and for the first time in a while didnt feel the overwhelming weight of lying to your patner.

Somewhat Inspired by EDA's beautiful art, Thank you, @demonic0angel , for being so ridiculously creative and talented that I can’t even sit back and enjoy your work in peace.

No, instead, you had to go and make me feel creative too, and now I have the unbearable urge to post things. I hope you’re proud of yourself.

[windydrawallday]

"You have another copy of the keys, right?"

My excuse for POCKY DAY 💥 I've been waiting to post this since last year, time flies...

Tagging these peeps because if it wasn't for all your support on my shippy work over the years idk what it would have been of myself right now @emisatea @sug4r-melon @ivycorp @jarofloosescrews 🐦💚🦡 Thank you so much!

[amandamadeathing]

❌ Single

❌ Taken

✔️ In a very healthy relationship with five fictional men

[goatdon]

I fear I’ve got a case of crackshipitis. like i need… need more abbott and mohan….. i need the fics like i #needthat…. need more people to talk about them in general actually

like who’s taking one for the team and writing that 60k hurt/comfort one shot..

im aware we’ve got crumbs. not even crumbs because I don’t even think you can even classify a really bad joke that did not Land at all as genuine flirting but. this is where we can use our imaginations and project guys….the potential is there

also sidebar to all of that but i refuse to spell abbott without the extra t. it’s like non negotiable.

[learningfromlosing]

You know why I don't ship Melissa and Shauna?

Bc you're allowed to rescind consent when you don't enjoy it anymore. Period.

You know why I don't think any of the arguments about her still being in love with Shauna matter?

Bc shes allowed to not have something in her life if she knows it's bad for her even if she "wants" it.

You know why I don't think Melissa is lying about getting better and putting it behind her?

She healed in creative and different ways bc she was still holding up her end of keeping the secret. She knows what's important to the group, respected that, and she still found ways to help herself too. She found someone to talk through some of things she couldn't by herself with. She found other resources even if she couldn't get a real therapist. She reached out for help in the only ways she could.

You don't need to erase things to be able to live with them in a healthy way. You don't need to talk about everything with everyone else to be able to move past it.

She isn't a different person bc she didn't tell them her birth name. Do I really need to explain why not using your birth name doesn't make your life any less valid?

Not glorifying your trauma doesn't mean you're ignoring it. Not talking about your trauma with everyone doesn't mean you're not actively working though it.

She questions herself constantly. That's what it's like to heal. It's never gone, but you can side step the spiraling if you're mindful enough. "This isn't some kind of survivors guilt or pity marriage, or shit maybe it is."

And faking your death to get away from your violently abusive ex girlfriend doesn't mean you still love her. I would actually argue the opposite.

[sprite-and-the-bunnydragons]

If languages got together to chat

Spanish: I have many ways to express love, so my speakers can always tell each other exactly how they feel!

Japanese: Neat! I have a lot of words to describe colors and nature, so my speakers can appreciate the beauty around them.

English: i liek b o a t s

[gophergal]

the explosive ladies.... look at them......

(looks better on pf)

[thatguywhodoesstuff]

How I Envision HaloSnake:

[fine-nephrit]

🥏 TXF Fic Rec #39: "Jabberwocky" by the Sybarite Collective

“Bad Blood” remains one of the funniest, most brilliant hours of our series, and this post-ep couldn’t be more fitting: hilarious, original, perfectly in tune with the episode.

Here’s what you will find in it: a casefile with more vampire shenanigans, an original character who happens to be a feisty redhead, another sighting of our allegedly buck-toothed gentleman sheriff, Alice in Wonderland references, sleazy bars, our feds being jealous and bantering in a way that makes you grin, and a sweet ending that melts you in your chair. Now you simply must read it :)

---

🥏 on Gossamer

authors: the Sybarite Collective (bcfan, MaybeAmanda, Amy aka Spookey247, Tesla, msk, Lucy Marchmont, kmom) length: novella, 15,000+ words season: season 5, 5x12 Bad Blood pairing(s): M/S UST to RST tags: episode-related, casefile, humor, jealousy rating: mature/R

tagging @today-in-fic

[demonic0angel]

Prompt: Dan Phatom as an inmate of Arkham Asylum?

Part 2, part 3

Harley hummed. She eyed the newest inmate, a gorgeous hunk of meat with dark raven hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing the usual orange suit, but he wore it like a model, with the buttons opened and sleeves rolled up, highlighting his broad arms and tight muscles. He was as beautiful as a demon, and even though Ivy was way prettier, Harley still couldn’t help but be curious.

Harley nodded to herself, thinking for only a moment. Then she waved a hand, calling out, “Yoo hoo! You there! Hey, handsome! Why don’t you come here and spend some time with me and Ivy?”

Ivy rolled her eyes next to her. “Harley!” She hissed.

The man paused, tilted his head, and then smiled, flashing his sharp fangs before he crossed the prison yard to sit down with the two. People stared at them, but the man didn’t seem bothered.

“Hello,” he said politely, “what’s up?”

“You’re new here, ain’tcha?” Harley said rhetorically. “What’re you in for?”

The man chuckled. “I thought it was rude to ask?”

“Nahhh, in here? It doesn’t matter. Everyone already knows why we’re here, there’s no secrets around here. So? What’re you in here for?”

The man smiled. “I started teasing a little bird I found and then he started getting mad at me. I didn’t like how he made Batman go after me, so I made a building explode and I was tossed into here. I didn’t even kill anyone though!”

Seeing how large and old he was, Harley was a little worried and had to ask, “Which little bird?”

“The beautiful one with the black and blue suit and the pretty smile,” the man said dreamily, curling a lock of raven hair around his clawed fingers as he looked towards the sky in a daydream. “He was pretty funny too.”

Harley immediately cooed. Anyone who thought Nightwing was funny clearly hadn’t been hit over the head by his escrima sticks while he threw out obnoxious puns, but the way he described him was so sweet! He was clearly insane, so that was completely okay in her books!

“Awww, that’s so cute! Are you a meta or what? Those fangs o’ yours don’t look human!” Harley said, while Ivy shook her head exasperatedly.

The man shook his head with a small smile. “Not exactly. But I guess I do have meta powers.”

Ivy asked, “Then doesn’t that just make you a meta?”

The man shrugged and then asked, “What about you ladies?” Harley knew that he was just dodging the question, but she didn’t mind, so she began to prattle on about the recent museum break-in she and the girls did, but Selina got away while she and Ivy were caught. Selina was planning a break out for them soon, so they just had to sit tight and wait!

The man smiled, fangs appearing again. “Can I join you? I want to see that little bird again.”

Harley beamed, “Sure thing! What’s your name?” while Ivy groaned.

The man smiled and reached over to shake her hand. His hands were cold and large, like a chunk of ice. He smiled and his pupils sharpened into slits, but oddly enough, he still looked friendly, like a tiger in a way.

“Please. Call me Wraith.”

[pinklotushere]

Direct continuation of this

14th Century, The Wedding

The chapel was quiet, the flickering candlelight casting golden hues over the stone walls. Dick grinned as he clasped Dan’s hands, his voice soft but full of playful energy.

“Do you think the gods will bless us?” dick asked.

Dan raised a brow, his stoicism barely hiding a hint of a smile. “If they don’t, I’ll have a word with them myself.”

“For once, you’re not brooding,” dick laughed “I could get used to this.”

Dan smirked faintly. “You have a talent for unsettling me.”

As they exchanged vows, Dan felt something he rarely allowed himself to feel: hope.

It was short-lived.

When dick fell ill years later and succumbed to the plague, Dan begged the gods to take him too. Instead, they cursed him, forcing him to live with his grief.

---

Dan wandered through centuries, haunted by dick's absence. Time didn’t dull the ache; instead, it sharpened it, leaving him restless and yearning for the impossible.

16th-Century venise

The courtesan was beautiful, with dark hair and a sharp wit that reminded Dan of dick. He found himself drawn to her, lavishing her with gifts and stolen moments.

“You seem sad,” she said one night, tracing a finger along his jaw. “You’re always looking at me like you expect me to say something I haven’t.”

Dan forced a smile. “You remind me of someone I lost.”

She kissed him softly, but it felt hollow. No one could match the fire that dick had carried in his soul.

---

17th-Century England

The lively marketplace bustled with activity as Dan passed through, blending into the crowd. A merchant’s voice caught his attention, cutting through the noise with its cheeky charm.

“Careful, sir, you’ll scare the quills if you stare any harder.”

Dan’s gaze snapped to the stall, and his breath caught. The merchant’s auburn hair and bright smile were eerily familiar. He bought a quill just to linger, his heart aching with an unnamed longing.

“You remind me of someone,” Dan murmured.

“Lucky him,” the merchant teased.

Dan left, the stranger’s laughter echoing in his mind.

---

The Napoleonic Wars (19th Century)

The young soldier, Henri, had dick's cheeky grin and quick tongue. They met during a brutal campaign, bonding over shared hardships.

“You’re too quiet, Dan,” Henri said one night by the fire. “You’ve got stories, I can tell.”

Dan chuckled softly. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Henri laughed and leaned closer, his gaze lingering. Dan kissed him, hoping the heat would drown out the emptiness. It didn’t. Henri was kind, but he wasn’t him.

---

19th-Century Paris

The bookshop was warm and dimly lit, a haven from the cold Parisian streets. Dan browsed aimlessly, distracted by the shopkeeper’s lively chatter with another customer.

“You’ve got a serious look about you,” the shopkeeper said, noticing Dan. “Let me guess—love lost?”

Dan stiffened. The man’s blue eyes and teasing smile felt too familiar. He handed Dan a slim volume of poetry. “This one’s good for broken hearts. I’d know.”

Dan nodded curtly, paying without a word. As he left, the shopkeeper’s parting words lingered: “Come back if you need more stories.”

It was sweet, but Dan already knew he wouldn't be coming back

---

20th Century A Bar

In a smoky speakeasy in New York, Dan nursed a drink while watching the barmaid move through the crowd. She had dick's charm and confidence, her laughter cutting through the haze of jazz and cigarette smoke.

She leaned against the bar, grinning at him. “You’ve been staring all night. Care to explain?"

“You remind me of someone,” Dan admitted, his voice low.

“Lucky her,” she teased, pouring him another drink.

Dan smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He tried to convince himself that these fleeting connections were enough, but the truth gnawed at him: they weren’t.

---

20th-Century New York

The train station buzzed with energy as soldiers boarded. Dan leaned against a pillar, watching a young man in uniform charm a group of women nearby.

“Not boarding?” the soldier asked, his grin infectious.

“No,” Dan replied.

“Suit yourself.” The soldier extended a hand. “Rick.”

Dan hesitated before shaking it. “Dan.”

As the conductor called for final boarding, Rick tipped his hat. “See you around, Dan.”

Dan watched him go, the ache in his chest a reminder of something he couldn’t quite place.

Dick grayson’s life had always felt... incomplete. He couldn’t explain the strange dreams that plagued him—visions of a medieval chapel, a bustling market, a quiet bookshop. He dismissed them as nothing more than fantasies.

As Nightwing, Gotham demanded his focus. Yet, during a battle with a rogue magician, something changed.

A spell struck him mid-air, throwing him to the ground. Pain rippled through his body, but so did something else—a torrent of memories flooding his mind.

Dan, he mind whispered to him

Oh.

Oh.

Dick spent months tracking Dan down, piecing together clues from his fragmented memories and his skills as Nightwing.

He chased whispers of a man who never seemed to age, stories of someone who disappeared when connections grew too close.

In every lead, dick saw glimpses of Dan’s regret—an unfinished painting left behind in a French chateau, a carefully preserved diary in a London museum, a love letter hidden in the pages of an old book.

Each discovery hardened Dick's resolve. “You won’t run from me this time,” he muttered as he packed his gear.

Dan was sitting in his apartment, staring at the same photograph. The weight of centuries pressed down on him, his guilt and longing a constant ache.

The knock at his door startled him. He wasn’t expecting anyone. When he opened it, his breath caught.

Dick stood there, rain dripping from his hair, his eyes blazing with determination.

“How many lifetimes will it take before you see me for who I am?” dick demanded, stepping into the room without waiting for an invitation.

Dan took a step back, his mind racing. “dick?”

“Yes, Dan,” dick said, his voice firm. “It’s me. It’s always been me. And you—” his voice broke slightly, “you’ve been running from this for centuries.”

Dan sank into a chair, unable to meet dick's gaze. “I thought I was protecting you,” he whispered.

Dick crouched in front of him, gripping his hands. “You thought you were protecting yourself,” he said, his tone softer now. “But I’m here, Dan. I’ve always been here. And I remember everything,i remember you”

Dan’s eyes filled with tears. “I wanted to save you from this... from me.”

“You’re not saving me by leaving me behind,” dick said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re breaking us both.”

The room was quiet, and Dan hesitated before reaching out, his fingers brushing against dick's cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” Dan murmured, his voice cracking.

Dick leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. “Then stop running. Stop hiding. Be with me this time. For real.”

Dan nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve everything,” dick said fiercely. “But you have to let yourself believe it.”

---

Months later, Dan and dick walked along the Gotham waterfront, the city alive with its usual chaos. But for the first time in centuries, Dan didn’t feel haunted.

“You’re awfully quiet,” dick said, bumping Dan’s shoulder. “Regretting your decision already?”

Dan chuckled, a rare sound that made dick grin. “Hardly. I’m just... grateful.”

Dick smirked. “Good. Because I’m not letting you off the hook this time. You owe me centuries of explanations, love letters, and... well, everything.”

Dan stopped walking, turning to face him. “You have my eternity."

Dick's grin softened, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to Dan’s lips. For the first time, they were finally whole.

[homoquartz]

i think archie ofmd and zheng yi sao should kiss

[thecoffeelorian]

And now for something completely different...

...As the title may suggest, I crossed the 300 followers mark sometime during the holidays, so!

As fandom tradition dictates, I would like to create something in order to commemorate the occasion--however, I am also bogged down with a handful of current projects, so perhaps the usual Clone Trooper x Reader requests may be too much to add to my present workload.

Rather, I might do a one-shot attempt at humor involving Crosshair and Hunter from "The Bad Batch", as well as creating a Star Wars version of the "I'm At Soup" meme/video purely for kicks and giggles.

Therefore, if you would like to be a part of the tag list for this, please slap a like on this post, and I'll be sure to add you!

❤ Thank you, everyone!! ❤

[all-pacas]

cameron: [fights for her relationship and marriage at every turn, only giving up and leaving when chase refuses to play along, spends every episode focusing on her and chase's relationship doing everything she can to make him happy]

everyone on reddit / tumblr / whatever: cameron never cared about chase what a bitch/girlboss

[2lurslinger2000]

I love hearing venus laugh sm like ITS SO CUTE IT SOUNDS SO SILLY I wanna see like,, mars or sm tell a pun or sm and venus laughs at it <33

I just love the fact that venus and mars are at least friendly w each other <33

(hstrhayh sorry if me rambling is annoying lmao)

Accidentally included my og panel 4 venus questioning mars but it looked cool. Kinda like venus doing a double take !!