#i'm gone until tomorrow evening

[janeway-lover]

gang I thought it was supposed to get easier

[sysig]

Without me, who am I (Patreon)

[fantabulisticity]

I was really pumped to go to a local concert that I thought was tomorrow, where a really good band is playing, and I found out AT THE TIME THE CONCERT STARTED that it's tonight and not tomorrow. I looked through concert tickets and shit and tried to find the length of the concert and band order for way too long and then finally decided to go and by the time I was ready, it was 45 minutes past start time and I would still have to drive across town and find parking. And not a single place online told me the band order. I HATE that shit. Idk where everyone finds that info bc i can fucking NEVER find it. So I didn't even know if I could still see them or not if I showed up late, and then it was so late that it's not even worth going. And the concert goes SUPER late and I work at 7 am and the tickets are $50 and I don't really have that right now. I am so sad and angry. I thought they were the headliner and I'd get to see them tomorrow. But I don't get to see them at all bc I've been so fucking busy and tired all the time that I didn't have the bandwidth to look for tickets until tonight. So now I'm going to bed without a shower even though I'm STICKY bc I spent the last HOUR trying to decide whether or not to try to go to this concert. I fucking HATE this shit. If I could have found this info earlier and more easily then I could have made it. But no. I don't get to go at all. And I don't know if this band will ever be in town again. I've seen them once and they were AMAZING, but that was years ago, and I was excited to see them as an adult. I had fucking PLANNED for this concert but my plans were wrong. And now I don't get to go at all. Bc this internationally recognized band is playing on a fucking THURSDAY NIGHT. Why the FUCK would I know they were put on a THURSDAY. And the websites are so impossible to navigate anyways, esp on Mobile. It is SO HARD to find the most basic info about this shit. And now I don't even get to go. Because it took me half an hour to find the info I needed in order to even make a decision, and that half hour started AT CONCERT START TIME. I'm so fucking sad and angry. I have had kind of a rough week, and I was really looking forward to this. The concert tomorrow doesn't have ANYONE I recognize bc I only know older musicians in this genre and I have NO IDEA who any of these people are. So I don't know if I even want to go to the one tomorrow. Because the one I wanted to go to was TONIGHT. A fucking THURSDAY. And I can't even just get my shit together and go anyways bc the concert will be halfway over and my bedtime is right fucking now. I'm so fucking sad. This event happens once per year and it changed dates a few years ago so I never fucking know when it is anymore, and now in the year when I DO know when it is and have a job where I can conceivably afford to go, and I fucking PUT IT IN MY CALENDAR AND TRIED TO BUY TICKETS, I actually can't go. The rug wasn't even pulled out from under me, I was trying to run over it and tripped on it and landed face-first on the ground. What the FUCK.

[that-was-anticlimactic]

just accidentally spilled an entire water bottle on my bed :)

took my sheets off and put a towel over it. then looked up what to do just in case and. like everything said "use a fan" and "mold could happen so be careful" and now i am Terrified of getting mold since so much spilled and since i don't have any fans. i am so tired oh my god i just want to go to bed

[fictionadventurer]

&

[cxpperhead]

💀

what icon? ask meme. (💀 for my deadliest looking icon of my muse)

Okay, being a bit greedy here because I'm torn between these two for different reasons. The first? Copperhead's quick enough to dodge bullets. Not all of them, he soon gets himself somewhere they can't shoot him so easily but the fact he dodges several in quick succession really goes to show how dangerous he is, and then there's the venom. Two toxic jets sprayed directly at you? That's going to hurt, even if it's not injected directly via biting.

[tardis--dreams]

Gonna go running tomorrow!!!! Gotta hype myself up because i know once my alarm goes off at 6am i will not be as excited anymore ((((: BUT I'LL GO RUNNING!!!!

[bebsibby]

.

[miodiodavinci]

ouhghgh , , , reached the point where my throat is in so much pain i can't sleep, even with cough drops , , , , i keep waking up every hour coughing so hard i start to throw up by the end , , , , it looks like my fever might finally be going down (original peak of 100.9, now down to 98.8) but god , , , , the agony , , , , , ,

[confines]

i hope i wake up in a better mood tomorrow. i've decided everything i planned for tomorrow is lame and probably won't be fun which is stupid because i planned it, for me, to have fun? like @ me why are you fucking with me like this.

[cathymee]

one thing about us is. #colonialism

[the-fever-pitch]

You told me you wanted me to tie you up. It took me a few seconds to be sure that you meant it, after all, we were just friends. Yes, we flirted a lot, recurring off-color jokes, but it'd never gone any further. It wasn't until we were finishing watching a series together in my apartment and you found the ropes I was practicing with last night that you confessed to me that you wanted to experience it.

“But don't do anything dirty with me, huh? I'm not into this freaky stuff. I just want to know what you do with this.”

So I said yes. We finished watching the last episodes while I slid the rope over your body. First I made a design on your chest over your shirt while you made jokes about how depraved I was, that I was being "too nice" and that I could tighten more. So I did it. Then I bent your legs, spread them wide, and held them that way by tying them against the couch. I held your wrists against your ankles and little by little, you became more and more immobilized and your laughter became less frequent. But your smile didn't disappear, the expression was different.

It was turning you on, you didn't expect it to have this effect on you but no matter how much you try to avoid it, I can see it in your body language, in how you tremble with the touch of my fingers.

“Does it feel good?” I asked you, even though I already knew the answer. My hands running over your chest, with your rapid breathing. “I thought you weren't into this kind of stuff"

You nodded your head, and my hand went straight to your crotch, resting it on the fabric of your jeans.

“Think of all the things I could do to you now that I have you helpless. No one is coming until tomorrow, I could keep you here aaall night… But you asked me not to do anything dirty to you.”

“No, touch me please.”

“Oh, I thought you had to be a freak to enjoy these things.”

"I'm sorry.--"

“Keep begging.”

[sacr1ficialang3l]

older!dean headcanons˚୨୧⋆｡

OLDER!DEAN WINCHESTER X YOUNGER!READER (read here)

WARNINGS: mentions of/implied smut (MDNI). age gap.

NOTES: He is back! My psych final is tomorrow and i am going insane, so this is shorter than usual. You have all been so sweet and supportive, and I just wanted to give you a little something as a thank you while I study. I love you all, thanks for the kind words. As always, English is not my first language. Enjoy<3

˚୨୧⋆｡ After months of resisting you and denying his feelings, he is the sweetest man ever when you two get together. He adores you, and he makes sure to show you. He spoils you rotten, lets you get away with almost anything, and he always needs to have a hand on you.

˚୨୧⋆｡ He is protective!!! Like, very protective. He always keeps an eye on you during hunts, and makes sure to kill any evil motherfucker before they can even think of putting their hands on you. And when you do get hurt, you think it pains him more than it does you. He patches you up with gentle touches he didn’t think his blood-stained hands were capable of. He looks at you with sad, deep eyes as he kisses over the wound, and then he doesn’t even let you get up from bed, even if the injury is as tiny as a paper cut. 

˚୨୧⋆｡ After every case, he loves, or more like needs to cradle you against his chest and hold you close. He wraps his huge arms around you and presses you to his side, or on top of him, and he just buries his face on your hair and breathes in. He tells you it is to calm you down after hunts, to make you feel safe. But you think it is more about him. Like he needs to remind himself that you’re okay. That you’re there next to him, and that you’re not going anywhere. 

˚୨୧⋆｡ You love to annoy him, it is your favorite hobby. Play with his hair while he and Sam research in the library, brushing it right in front of his eyes while he tries to read. You love to sit in a barstool in the garage while he works on Baby and talk his ear off when he has no way to escape (not that he would). You force him to watch rom-coms and chick-flicks that he pretends to hate, but you catch him smiling to himself a few times. You poke him, and bite him, and jump on him all the time, and he wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

˚୨୧⋆｡ You have a habit of sinking your teeth into his biceps any chance you get. There are always teeth marks on his flesh that he wears with pride. (There are always hickies on your thighs and collarbones to match, of course.)

˚୨୧⋆｡ He claims not to be the jealous type. “I'm too old for things like that, sweetheart.” But you knew he was. He didn’t mind when people stared at you when you walked into a bar or around a small town, always that his arm was around your shoulders or your hand was on his. He is proud that such a pretty girl chose him. But the moment some frat boy tries to approach you at a bar when you are alone, he feels his blood boil. He watches from far away for a few seconds, trying to keep his cool, but he loses it when the guy decides to brush your hair behind your ear. He quickly walks across the bar until he is right behind you, pulling you against his chest and glaring at the dude over the top of your head. The boy is gone in less than a second.

˚୨୧⋆｡ You try to show your love for him in every way you can. Dean was confident and strong, but it sometimes felt like he doubted your feelings for him, like his brain was trying to convince him that you deserved better and that you would get tired of being with some old guy eventually. So, you shower him in love. You learn how to bake pies just for him, making him a new one every week. You wash his hair in the shower, massaging his scalp to help him relax. You get him naked in bed and go on a journey of kissing every scar you can find. You press your lips over the small ones, run your tongue over the long and raised ones. And of course you make sure to tell him how much you love him. You murmur soft i love you’s against his lips. You remind him every day of how beautiful he is, how good he is. You whisper in his ear about how hot he is, how he makes you lose your mind and how no one could ever compare to him.

˚୨୧⋆｡ Dean liked being rough with you in bed. He loved manhandling you, leaving purple fingertips marks on your hips, pulling your hair. He was careful at first, too scared to hurt you. But you wanted him to, you begged him to make it hurt. 

˚୨୧⋆｡ Because you loved it when it hurt a little. When he sank his teeth into the flesh of your thighs, when your knees ended up bruised from kneeling on the floor for too long, when you could still feel him days after. You love the marks that he leaves, a living reminder of his touch on your body. It made you feel complete, it made you feel his.

˚୨୧⋆｡ Dean tried to go slow with you at first, thinking that you might be too inexperienced for everything he wanted to do to you. But he didn’t know that you were just as much or even freakier than him. 

˚୨୧⋆｡ Your favorite thing to do was, when Dean and you were alone in the Impala for a long drive, to rest your head in his lap. You lay across the front seat casually, looking up at him with innocent eyes when he sends you a warning look. You start by “accidentally” rubbing your cheek against his crotch, loving the way the scratchy fabric of his jeans felt against your skin. You would tease him until he was hard and his breath was ragged, and then you would take him in your mouth. You order him to keep driving as you suck him off slowly. You drag it out, edge him until he is desperate and gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. And when he finally comes, you swallow it all like a good girl, moaning in satisfaction, enjoying the way his cum coats your tongue. It makes him groan every time, nostrils flared with the need to fuck you. Sometimes you keep going, keep suckling on him until he is whining in oversensitivity and has to pull you away by your hair.

˚୨୧⋆｡ In return, Dean gives you pleasure every time he can. He can eat your pussy for hours on end, in the kitchen counter, or the Impala, or in a lonely classroom when you have to infiltrate a school for a case. He will fuck you on his bed, or the floor, or against the wall. He just loves to make his girl feel good, see you shaking with pleasure, begging him to stop and to keep going at the same time. He loves when you tell him that he’s the best you have ever had, and the best you will have. He loves when you scream his name and your thighs close around his head because of the overwhelming sensations. He loves to make you cry with pleasure. 

˚୨୧⋆｡ But after, he is the sweetest guy ever. He takes aftercare very seriously, murmuring reassuring words against your skin and softly kissing every bruise and bite mark. He reminds you of how much he loves you, of how much you matter to him. 

“I don’t know what I would do without you, baby. You keep me sane.”

“You’re such a good girl, my beautiful princess.”

“I will take care of you forever. Nothing will ever hurt you while I'm here.”

“I love you.”

NOTES: wish me luck on my final! I will be back after I'm finally free.

If you wanna be tagged in future works, let me know!!

[lokiswifeduh]

My Best Girl

Pairings- Bucky x Civilian!Fem!Reader

Summary- You push yourself to the limits with your job while Bucky is away, not realizing you are close to the edge until Bucky catches you from falling over it.

Warnings- Burnout, exhaustion, Bucky taking care of reader, hints at depression, physical burnout, I think that's it?

WC- 1.5k

Your whole body felt like it was being pulled down to the earth, like gravity had increased tenfold just from the walk up to your apartment.

Your feet burned with a horrible vengeance, and all your mind could think about was climbing into bed and pulling the covers over your head. You worked as a waitress in a diner down the street.

Bucky continued to offer for you to move into the tower so you could quit your job and hang out while he was on missions. But you declined, wanting to keep making your own money. Yet sometimes, you wished you had taken him up on it.

As you turned the key in the lock, you immediately dropped your bag to the floor, toeing off your shoes without bothering to put them on the shoe rack Bucky had bought last month.

"Doll?" Bucky walked from behind the wall of the hallway, in a pair of grey sweatpants and his red henley. You attempted a smile, pulling your jacket from your shoulders and throwing it on the countertop in the kitchen.

Bucky noticed the dullness in your eyes, concerned by the way you didn't seem to look at him for long before heading over to the couch and plopping down onto the soft cushions. Usually you greeted him by jumping into his arms and giving him kisses all over.

Granted, Bucky had been gone on a three week mission up until yesterday. He wondered, what the hell happened in three weeks?

He knew you were somewhat struggling when he came back. The kitchen had piles of dishes in the sink, laundry hadn't been done in what looked like over two weeks and your fridge was completely empty. But he knew when you got busy, sometimes you got distracted with things, everyone did.

"Honey? Are you okay?" Walking over to you, he grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, and draped it over your frame. He sat on the coffee table and rested a hand on your arm as you laid on your side, staring at nothing.

"Y/n?" Bucky said a little more urgently, making you finally look up at him. You hummed, not knowing he even asked you anything.

Your boyfriends brows furrowed in even more concern, moving his hand to your jaw, feeling the sweat that dripped from your hairline. "Doll, did something happen?"

You seemed to realize Bucky's worry, straining to sit upright with a couple winces. You had worked a double shift, almost 13 hours and your whole body was on fire. "No, I'm sorry, I'm just so tired Buck."

"I can see that, doll."

You leaned forward, resting your head on his chest as you didn't have much strength to stay sitting up. He could feel the tight muscles in your back as he rubbed his hand up and down it. The heat from your forehead was radiating against his chest.

He placed a kiss on your hair, "How about lets get you in the bath and get you to bed."

You hummed again, "That sounds nice, babe."

"You can even sleep in tomorrow, I'll make you your favor-" You shook your head, cutting him off, "I gotta work tomorrow, Buck."

Bucky leaned back, making you look up at him. "Doll, look at you, you're in pain, I'm pretty sure you have a fever, and you can't even hold yourself up right."

You felt the familiar lump in your throat, making you blink back the tears that threatened to fall. "I can't call in, my boss will kill me and-" "Doll, what happened while I was gone? I thought you were only working part time?"

You rubbed your eyes, shaking your head. "Someone quit so I think the last day off I had was.." Your brows furrow as you think. "When did you leave for the mission with Steve?"

"Three weeks and two days ago, honey."

You nodded, "I haven't had a day off since two days after you left." The silence in the apartment is deafening as Bucky goes through it in his mind. "Doll, you're telling me you haven't had a day off in..twenty one days?" You take a deep breath, leaning your head on your hands as you sway a little bit, Bucky moving his hand to your side when he notices. "That sounds about right."

Bucky feels his stomach drop. He had checked in with you every couple of days on the mission. He wasn't supposed to have any contact at all from it being so classified, however Steve let him sneak it in, knowing he couldn't go that long without talking to you.

He hadn't known you were working every single day, and he didn't notice it was taking this much out of you. He feels horrible for not being there for you, for not taking care of you when he needed you most.

"Y/n," He lifts your head with his hands, stroking your flushed cheeks with his thumbs. "Why didn't you tell me? Why haven't you quit? You know we can move to the tower, you won't have to worry about-" "Buck, you know I love working." You spoke softly, your voice starting to crack.

"Honey, this is too much, you look like you could collapse at any moment." You closed your eyes, feeling his touch and leaning into it. "It's apart of my job, Bucky. I've been there too long to leave."

He knew he wouldn't be able to convince you, letting you fall into his chest before he wrapped you in his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. You winced, feeling your muscles ache with every shift of your weight.

He sat you on the counter, "Lean back, honey, can't have you falling on me." You nodded, closing your eyes and leaning back into the mirror as Bucky started the bath water, putting in some epsom salt and muscle relief foaming bath bubbles.

You must've fallen half asleep because the next time you open your eyes, Bucky is taking off your socks. Then leaning you forward to rest against his chest, he lifts your shirt and pulls it from your frame. Unhooking your bra next.

"Can you stand, doll? I needa' get these jeans off of you."

You nod, letting him help you put your feet on the floor as he kneels down and lets you rest your hands on his shoulders as he pulls down your pants and then panties.

Picking you up, he walks over to the bath and places you down in the water. You immediately feel the warm water soothe your body, moaning as your muscles relax for the first time in weeks.

Bucky fills up a cup, pouring the water over your hair before shampooing and conditioning it. He massages your scalp, making you groan from the tension headache slowly fading away. Next, he squirts some of your favorite body wash onto a rag, dragging it all along your body, rubbing your feet a little extra.

Bucky's hands leave your body once he's done rinsing the suds off. You open your eyes, grabbing his hand. "Where are you going?"

He turns back, kissing your forehead, "Just to get you some pajamas, doll."

You lean over, grabbing a towel before pulling yourself up shakily and wrapping it around yourself. Stepping out of the tub was difficult, but with both of your aching feet on the ground, you walked toward the bedroom, leaving some wet footprints on the way.

Bucky looks up when you enter, "Doll, I could've helped you-" You softly shush him, wrapping your hands around his neck and leaning up, "I forgot this when I came home." Closing your lips against his, you felt even more stress wash away. His mouth moved against yours in a soft yet wanting kiss, before parting.

Bucky smiled down at you, his blue eyes gazing lovingly into yours. "I missed you so much baby. I'm sorry i wasn't here." You shook your head, "You're here now, Buck. That's all that matters my love."

After getting you into a pair of his boxers and an oversized shirt, you and Bucky crawled into bed. He turned on some oldies, both of you soaking in the 40s' music as you laid in each others arms.

"Bucky?"

He looked down, "Yes, doll?" "I think I wanna take you up on your offer. Could we move into the tower, and can I quit my job?" He didn't say anything which made you start rambling, "I promise I can work for Tony, I'll even clean the residential floors for everyone, and I-"

"Doll, shhh," Bucky leaned up on his elbow, looking down at you. "You don't have to worry about any of that. Just focus on feeling better and taking care of yourself. I'll even take off of missions so we can spend a little more time together while you get situated." You placed a hand on Bucky's jaw, "You take such good care of me, love." Bucky let out a small laugh, "I gotta," He leaned down to kiss you, parting softly, "You're my best girl."

____________________

masterlist

[lovebugism]

Kissing eddie just as you’re both about to get out of the car and now he’s got a problem cause he’s hard, and all your friends are waiting for you and you’re both a little late and Eddie we really gotta hurry up! what’s the issue? and the poor boy is bright red to his neck over how gone he is on you

ty for requesting :D ps: i'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure over this prompt –– when eddie's about to leave for a show, you make sure he knows exactly what he's missing out on (established relationship, st4 canon divergence, allusions to smut 18+ | 1k)

“How do I look?” Eddie wonders aloud as you trail down the creaking porch steps behind him. He plants his feet on the gravel driveway and spins on the heel of his sneaker to face you –– already bare-faced and clad in your pretty PJs for the night, a striking contrast to the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin standing before you.

You pause on the second-to-last step and reach for his face. Eddie leans instinctively into your warm touch as you swipe your thumbs under his eyes, gently smudging his dark liner a bit more. 

“Like a rockstar,” you answer with a proud smile.

Eddie scrunches his nose sheepishly in response, ‘cause he has nowhere to hide with you cradling his blushing face like this. He’s still not immune to the way you look at him, even after all this time. “You’re just sayin’ that,” he mumbles, kicking a lone rock with the toe of his show.

You hum in agreement as your hands fall from his face. “Yeah. ‘Cause it’s true.”

“To you, maybe,” Eddie scoffs, trying hard to ignore the pang of anxiety in his chest. “No one else seems to think so.”

He never used to be nervous performing before Vecna tried to kill him. It was the world that was scared of Eddie Munson, not the other way around –– until it nearly ended, anyway. Now, just leaving the house is enough to induce a panic attack. A part of him is always distantly fearful that a stranger’s face will turn out to be the dark wizard’s, back to life and hiding in plain sight again.

“Hey,” you scold, only partially playful. “I think the crowd of five drunks who watch you perform every Tuesday would agree with me.”

Despite the ice-cold apprehension making his limbs feel numb, Eddie manages a breathy chuckle. “You’re right. We could bomb, and they’d still act like we were playing Madison Square Garden or something.”

You soften then, as though sensing his worry. “You’re not gonna bomb, Eds. You guys are gonna do great. Just like always.”

“Sure you can’t come?” Eddie wonders quietly, blinking up at you with a pair of chocolate button eyes that are hard to say no to.

“You know I can’t… I have an early morning tomorrow,” you coo sympathetically, fighting back a smile when the boy’s rosy bottom lip juts in a pout. “But I’ll be right here when you get back, okay? And I’ll make sure to heat up dinner when you’re on your way. So you have something to soak up the alcohol and adrenaline with.”

You tilt your cheek to your shoulder, squinting suspiciously when Eddie’s frown curls into a cheeky grin. He reaches for you with a pair of ringed hangs and squeezes at your clothed hips. “Just like a good little housewife, huh?” he croons mischievously.

You roll your eyes at him ‘cause you’re not a housewife by any means. 

You live in a trailer with his uncle, for one. And you work five days a week, for another. Besides, you’re not even his wife, which you think is usually the first step. (You have no idea Eddie’s already picked a ring out for you. Or that he plans on keeping that a secret until he plays enough shows to afford a house). 

You decide to humor him, anyway. 

“Sure,” you monotone with a slow nod.

Eddie’s grin widens.

“C’mon on, Munson! We’re gonna be late!” Jeff lisps from the passenger side window of the van. The rusted tin can is parked a ways down the drive, packed to the brim with all their band equipment like a perfect game of Tetris.

You lean forward to press a chaste kiss to his mouth.

“Wear that dress I like when I get back?” Eddie murmurs lowly.

You hum with your lips pursed to the side of your mouth, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm… I was kinda thinkin’ about wearing nothing, actually,” you answer, shrugging innocently. “You know, for easy access and whatnot.”

Eddie warms all over. His wild head starts to swim at the visual –– one he’s seen a hundred times before that he’s not quiet sure he’ll ever get over. “Have mercy…” the boy mumbles under his breath.

“Just try not to think about it too much while you’re gone…” you lilt knowingly, smoothing both your hands up and over the lapels of his leather jacket. “All alone… Naked in our bed… Trying to get myself off while I wait for you…”

Eddie stares at you with heavy, lidded eyes. He can’t take the chocolates of them off your lips as they curl into a mischievous, tightlipped smile. “How ‘bout I just stay home?” he offers lowly.

A resounding honk blares from the van in a wordless answer. 

Gareth leans out the driver’s side window, face screwed and sandy curls wild. “C’mon, Eddie!” the boy yells like an impatient younger brother. “Put your dick in your pants already so we can go!” 

Eddie’s head swivels back to face you again, chest deflating with a grieving sigh. 

“You have to go,” you tell him, soft and sympathetic, as you press another kiss to his pout. “Have fun, honey,” you croon and step back from him –– knowing exactly what you’re doing as you trek back up the wobbly wooden porch steps.

Before you shut the front door behind you, you flash the boy a curt wave and a pretty smile. It takes a world of strength to keep from following behind you. 

In a perfect world, Eddie would already have the door bolted shut with you pressed against it by now. He’d have your oversized shirt balled up at your ribs and your shorts pulled down to your ankles and his mouth licking over your pretty cotton panties.

He shakes his head in a physical attempt to remove the sinful thoughts from his brain as he stalks back to the van. He keeps his head bowed as he goes, trying to hide his reddened cheeks behind his wild curls. Gareth watches from the window as Eddie tugs at the crotch of his jeans, trying to un-strangle his hard cock like a teenager.

The boy leans between the front seats as Eddie climbs into the driver’s side, slamming the screeching door shut behind him. “You’re pathetic,” Gareth teases through a fit of boyish laughter.

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles.

[dcxdpdabbles]

can you write the batfam going to amity due to *reasons* and alls well until Jason feels like he SHOULDNT go near since it’s Danny’s Haunt? Like how Crime Alley is ‘his’ Haunt? And batfam thinks he’s just being dramatic but uh, yeah he isn’t.

"I'm not going in there," Jason repeated, standing on the side of the highway, arms crossed over his chest and a stubborn scowl on his face.

"Jay, please get back in the van," Bruce sighed while the rest of the Waynes stared from their seats. They had originally all gotten off, but when the second eldest had started yelling, Bruce herded everyone back inside, including Dick.

No one knows why Jason was acting like this.

A few minutes earlier, he had napped comfortably in the far back of the large van Bruce had rented. The family had been on a cross-country road trip, where they all piled in together and let the GPA lead them to their final destination- Wayne Mountain Hotsprings. Alfred had the idea to practically kick everyone out of the manor to bond.

Members of their various teams would watch Gotham for the three weeks they would be gone. This week, Kon and Bart texted Tim updates. At first, the Waynes were not entirely up for the trip, but after a few hours of driving, they all enjoyed singing random songs and researching their vacation pick.

They each got to pick one random spot they wanted to stop at one the way- tourist trap or not- and Damian had been excited to go to "America's most haunted town." He had even been able to contact local ghost hunters who were excited to give them a tour. The Waynes would spend the night at the only hotel in the city and leave tomorrow morning.

That was the plan until Jason woke up screaming at the top of his lungs, "Pull over! Pull over! I can't go in there!"

It gave everyone a heart attack. Bruce had nearly driven into the other lane as Jason had been attempting to unbuckle himself and- were it not for Cass's quick reflection- fling himself from the moving vehicle. As soon as they found a safe spot to pull over, Jason leaped from the van and placed himself in front of the Welcome to Amity Park sign

A little up the road, they could see the city's outskirts. The Fentons, the acclaimed ghost hunters, were expecting them in twenty minutes. Damian was getting angsty.

"Can you explain why you can't go into Amity Park?" Bruce questions, stepping closer. "I won't make you go in there. I just need to know what's going on."

"Don't you feel that?" Jason asks, gesturing to the air around them. "It feels unsafe."

"What does?"

"The vibes," Jason said straightly, and Bruce's left eyebrow was spammed. "The vibes are choking."

Bruce takes another step closer, voice lowering into the familiar tone of comforting a scared civilian. "Jay what do you mean by that."

Jason opened his mouth only to snap his head upwards with a scream. "He's here!"

Everyone looked up—or at least those in the van by a window—only to see nothing. There was nothing there that could have freaked out Jason so much. The sun, maybe? Gotham wasn't known for its sunlight, and perhaps the fact that he grew up without it made it extra terrifying to the Gothamite.

Jason leaped behind Bruce, hiding like he did as a child. Now that Jay was taller than his father and buckler, it was a strange sight. "I'm sorry! I swear I wasn't going in!"

"Jaylad, what-"

"Ghost detected." The robotic voice of Damian's official ghost-hunting equipment made everyone freeze. The boy had opened the door of the van, escaping Duke's attempted grasp, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by the little machine in his hand.

It came from the Fentons' online store, and although it didn't work, Damian enjoyed walking around with it, searching for the paranormal. The rest of the family saw it as an age-appropriate make-believe, sighing in relief when he waved his little box around before deeming the area safe.

As it were, Damian waved the box again, letting the machine hum and bling as it landed on a particular spot in the sky. "Ghost detected. Ghost detected. Ghost located. Ghost is ten feet before you."

"Oh wow," An unknown voice said over the sound of rushing cars on the highway. Damian's eyes widen. "Haven't seen that design of the Fenton Finder in years. First edition, isn't it?"

Damian eyes are practilly sparkling as he puffs out his chest "It is! Are you a ghost?"

"Yeah." Suddently a glowing flouting transparent boy pops into thin air. No sound, no portal, not rush of air. Just one second he's there. He offers Damian a wide warm smile, that somehow makes his glowing green eyes menecing. "I'm Danny Phantom."

He turns his eyes back to Jason as Damian gapes at him. The boy had thought Phantom was a local urban legend. He has been decorating his room with "captured" images of Phantom for years. He turns to Tim, hissing for a pen and his photo binder.

"You." Phantom points at the cowering man. "Feel strange. You're overshadowed, but at the same time, there is no foreign soul in your body. What are you?"

"Um, I'm just here on vacation with my family-oh!" Jason words are cut off as Phantom flings himself at the pair. Before Bruce or Jason can react the ghost has his hands inside of Jason chest, ramaging around like it's a bag. Oddly enough, this makes Jason blush.

"Hmm. Yeah, there is no other ghost here. Are you haunting your own corpse?" Phantom floats upwards to stare into Jason's eyes. "Or are you a Halfa?"

"My own corpse," Jason gasps, but Bruce decides he's not about to let whoever this bothers his son, pushing Phantom back. Only somewhat surprised by the fact he made contact the hero's grunts

"Kindly keep your hands to yourself."

"Sorry," Phantom mutters, flouting back. He fidgets with his glowing white hair while shifting his feet. "I just wanted to be sure he was safe. You may enter."

And with another pop, he's gone.

Damian makes a sad whine in the back of his throat, holding a picture of a blurred image of Phantom and a pen. He flipped through the binder, attempting to find the clearest one while the ghost chatted with his father and brother. "I didn't get an autograph."

"There's always next time," Tim offered, patting the boy back as he led him towards his seat in the van again. You should keep that on your person so if you run into him again, we can get it signed for you quickly."

"Okay"

"Phew," Jason breathed, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. "That was terrifying. Anyway, we should get going, I don't want to be late for the Fentons."

He ignored Bruce's look, walking back as if he hadn't held them up for nearly forty minutes because the vibes were bad.

Bruce stared as Jason skipped back to the van, feeling very old and single. Maybe he should try calling the blind date Alfred had attempted to set up for him. He needs some support in raising his children. He has too many white hairs as it were.